Category: Strong Women

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Life is not a dress rehearsal

Life that's waitingMy Dad has a saying he’s adopted as I’ve gotten older, “Life is not a dress rehearsal.” He encourages us to live full, engaged lives…to do our best. I remind myself of this reality on a regular basis. But it’s so easy to get tripped up along the way…sometimes I wonder if that’s what I’ve mastered…the misstep.

At an early age we begin asking children what they want to be when they grow up. As parents, we have our own dreams for our children which are most likely merely continuations of our own dreams. To have a son-in-law, daughter-in-law, grandchildren…our dreams, not necessarily our theirs.

The reality is that life rarely works out like we think it will. Ok, never. I’ll be bold and say never.

Life is messy. The so called “path” we travel down looks more like a game of Chutes and Ladders. You move forward, go back, slide down, unexpectedly move up…throw in a few more twists and turns…now you have a picture of what life is truly like.

So, if it’s not a dress rehearsal, what is the “play” we’re in? What if we complicate our outlook by holding on so tightly to the picture of what we thought life would look like that we can’t see the one that’s right in front of us? Or we continue to show up for a version of our life that is no longer working?

So…many…conflicting…thoughts.

We likely know when our lives are off track. If we don’t consciously know it, our bodies will begin to tell us. Stress compounds, aches, pains…for me, it’s my gut that talks to me. I can literally feel the stress “in the pit of my stomach.” You might have headaches, lose sleep, the disconnect makes itself known to our bodies faster than to our conscious minds. Pay attention.

Midlife has been the time when I’ve begun to see the disconnects. Realized that I’ve been stuck in dress rehearsal for too long. Which, on the one hand, keeps me safe…but I’m not fully engaged either. What makes me sad is knowing there are many others who are on the same trajectory.

Showing up for real life instead of a dress rehearsal requires us to let go of the disconnect. The dream that is not the reality of our life. The vision of how we thought life would be. There’s a grieving that comes along with that. Letting go. Grieving whatever the loss is for you, because it’s different for each of us.

When you shift your perspective, see where you’re holding on to a dream that no longer serves you, or that’s changed, you can show up for the life you’re creating today. What you’re letting go wasn’t wasted, it shaped you into who you are today, but you’ve outgrown it. When you show up for your life today, show up fully. Embrace the opportunities, the realities open to you once you let go and begin gazing upon what’s unfolding before your eyes. It’s our journey friends, you’re not alone.

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Midlife Awareness

img_0198 (1)I am the oldest child and have all the type A characteristics that come with it. Oddly though, my birthday is late in the year, which made me the youngest among many of my friends growing up. I was four when I started kindergarten and only 17 when I stepped foot on my college campus. It presented a dichotomy, oldest at home but youngest in day to day life. I’ve thought about the contrast lately as I’m mentally turning a corner. Still the oldest child, no longer the youngest of my peers, and in the middle of my life.

People talk about midlife with a negative slant. But I’d disagree. For me, it’s a time of change. Paraphrasing Brené Brown… Midlife, it’s when the Universe shakes us and says ‘stop messing around, use the gifts I gave you. If you’ve read Brené you know she would have said that saltier than I do, for good reason, emphasizing that many of us have walked along beside our life to this point. We’ve let it happen to us, and in our early 50’s (plus or minus) it’s as though we wake up.

I know I have. It wasn’t at 50, more like the late 40’s. My question was ‘how do I want to play this out?’ I entered a career by default out of college and stayed it in. Changed employers a few times, but never changed my field. But I started to feel there was so much more. Gifts that I had which were lying on a shelf, dusty. A slant towards connection, creativity, writing…passions that I’d pushed aside for responsibility. Safe, secure, staying the course that others had laid out for me…until I started to question it.

I can see why it’s called a midlife ‘crisis.’ When you take your life and throw it up in the air to see what sticks, yeah, that can look like a crisis. Your body starts to act out…aches, arthritis (it’s no joke), hot flashes, fatigue. What…the…heck?? You talk about the quality of your sleep instead of the latest mountain you’ve conquered, realize that you can’t eat fries like a teenager anymore. Maybe you buy a sports car…I’ve heard that’s a thing… or embark on ways to ‘discover’ yourself.

I can’t help but wonder if the ‘crisis’ comes from not knowing how to navigate our true self. Stay with me. By the time we hit this time of life, our roles start to change. The self that we presented to the world starts to fall away. Our kids are in various stages of adulting, some of us may have parents who are starting to have health challenges (personally thankful I don’t have this one yet), we may find ourselves questioning our careers – how we want our work life to look. We might also start to discover creative passions. I know I have. Looking at our life free of the parts that defined us, shaped us for years, wondering what’s next, the questions can feel overwhelming, like a crisis.

Or, we can look at this phase of life as an awakening. We’re old enough to honestly look at our lives, discerning enough to weed through the parts that aren’t working and put those aside. At the same time, we are wise and have the freedom to explore our gifts, the talents we shelved when we were in the weeds earlier in our lives. AND (this is one of my favorites), we care far less about doing what everyone else thinks we should. Now that is freeing in and of itself.

Midlife awakening, boldly stepping into the next phase. Claiming it, embracing it. Ready to live out our authentic lives, knowing they may or may not look different than they have. Loving ourselves through it, embracing our gifts, and sharing those with the world. It’s your bold life, my friend, live it fully.

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A time for self-compassion

img_0106I got stuck. Honestly, the mid-winter cold firmly grabbed hold of me and wrestled me to the ground. More than once. Just when I thought I was getting better, I got cocky, went swimming and got smacked back down by the cold. I’d like to think I’m paying my debt to illness and will not be plagued for the rest of the year, but for now, I am not amused. What I did not expect is that it would propel me into limbo land.

That’s where being stuck comes in. Let me lay it out for you. I went into the Christmas holiday, marveling that I was taking 12, yes 12, days off work while only having to use 4 days of vacation. Between holidays and weekends it was like hitting the Powerball. I had plans, baby, lots of plans. I was going to map out my book writing strategy for 2019, spend time actually writing, plan out some blogs, pictures, go on an adventure, so…many…ideas.

None of that happened. In fact, my brain felt like it was on permanent vacation. Not one creative idea came to mind. I make cards for my husband and when I went to paint one during the illness, I drew lines folks. Lines on a page. In a circle, but lines nonetheless. No color. No paint. Just lines. I’ll call it art because I saw something similar on Pinterest. That makes it real, I assure you.

I started to get a little panicky. Had the words left my brain? Would they every come back? Was I destined to abandon the work I’d done. There was a lot of drama going on in my mind.

But a small voice inside of my head started speaking up. Uh…Lisa, you’ve been here before. You are not an invincible force. Although you think your superpower is being able to push through illness as though it never happened, that’s a lie. Every time you get sick, you pull out your cape, but to what end? You are a human, you get sick, sickness takes recovery time and it’s perfectly normal to not have the wherewithal to take a shower, much less write your book.

Why do I need that reminder? Oh, right, the recovering perfectionist in me. The façade part of me that tell me I need to soldier through every situation without as much as a visible sniffle. That’s living for someone else’s expectation, the idea that if I’m actually sick and down for a couple days I’m “less than,” weak, that I should be able to power through. But that’s not true, that’s perfectionist thinking.

Bold living tells me to have the courage to be honest with people, including myself. To remind myself that I’m human and need rest, that I get sick sometimes, and that although I feel puny and think all words have left my mind, they will return. It’s self-compassion. Giving myself the same grace I would give someone else in the same situation.

What causes you to spiral? To go down the wormhole and start beating yourself up? What I want you to know, to believe, is that you’re a human like the rest of us, and giving yourself self-compassion in those moments, the ones where you’d rather curl up in a ball and binge watch TV, is not only appropriate, it’s strong. It’s a time of rest and renewal.  Its being brave, and bold. That’s the path we’re on friends…arm in arm.

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Everyday Courage

Courage - Mark TwainWhen I think about courage, I’m reminded of the cowardly lion in the Wizard of Oz.  In the years after the movie debuted, there was discussion that the Lion, the Scarecrow and the Tin Man were each a sliver of Dorothy that she needed to discover. The lion was “granted courage” but he had it inside of him the entire time.

And so do I. So do you. The trouble is that we forget. Or, we tell ourselves that we don’t have courage. We see it as rarely attainable. We compare ourselves to other people, and whenever we start comparing, it’s a downward spiral. If you look up courage, here’s what you’ll find: courage is mental or moral strength to venture, persevere, and withstand danger, fear, or difficulty. When was the last time you persevered? Faced fear? That’s courage.

Reflection on the times we’ve had courage isn’t something we routinely do, at least not something I do. For me, reflection is a walk down the trail of tears. The ways that I’ve failed, disappointed, fallen short. My ability to go down that path is remarkable, and my tendency is to hold myself responsible for all the ills in my life.

What I do not do is look back and acknowledge the ways that I’ve been courageous. That I’ve persevered.  Acknowledging what’s been accomplished in spite of challenges. In fact, I feel slightly paralyzed whenever I’m asked about those times. I tend to minimize them in my mind. I brush past other people’s comments about them.

Courage doesn’t have to be an action that is heroic. We get confused about that sometimes. The “use it in a sentence,” part of our brain thinks that courage is not attained by the ordinary person. But I’d disagree. Courage is an individual act, but while it does impact us individual, impact our hearts, it also impacts other people.

Courage is having a hard conversation with someone you love.

Courage is admitting when you were wrong.

Courage is continuing to show up every day when you have chronic pain.

Courage is reaching out to a friend who has hurt you…or whom you’ve hurt.

Courage is continuing to try and have a baby after suffering loss.

Courage is coming along side a friend in need and simply sitting, listening, loving.

I believe courage is within each of us. Appreciating yourself in and of itself could be an act of courage. You might be conditioned, like I’ve done to myself, to brush past it. But you work your butt off every single day to show up well. To do a good job, to engage well in your relationships, to accomplish your goals. You’ve persevered through tough times, that’s courage. You’ve had hard conversations, that’s courage. You show up, day after day, and keep going even when you’d rather curl up in bed, that’s courage.

What can you do today to remember that you’re not the Cowardly Lion? That you have courage within you, even if you’ve forgotten about it, it’s there. It’s been with you throughout life. Today, think about those times and use it as a source of strength. You are strong, you are courageous, you are brave.

 

 

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Give Yourself Permission

PermissionIn the last month, I’ve attended two separate conferences that spoke to the idea of permission slips. I think I’d better pay attention. Admittedly, I was the kid who followed the rules growing up. If my parents didn’t give the nod, I was a no go. Likely bitter in a little kid way, but compliant. I was not the kid who forged notes at school. Although, and this is a true story, my mom taught me how to forge her name, just in case I needed it. I mastered it quickly, particularly since she writes textbook cursive. I have no recollection of ever taking advantage of that skill though, since I would likely be bending a rule to do so.

If you’re not already getting the picture, let me paint it clearly. I am responsible. To this day, responsibility – even perceived responsibility – comes first. Over the last few years, I’ve worked on breaking that trend, but it’s a tricky one. The voices in my head have a party every time I try. They taunt me, mock me, tell me things that aren’t true. Mainly around performance driven worth.

Did that make you squirm in your seat? Performance driven worth is a myth. We perform, perform, perform, but that doesn’t make us any worthier. Particularly as a Christian, I get my worth from God. It’s plain and simple. Your worth doesn’t come from what you do, it comes from who you are.

The drive to be responsible and forego fun, relaxation, self-care? It’s ridiculous.

That’s why the idea of permission slips is incredibly appealing to me. Think about it. A permission slip is like a get out of jail free card. It’s me telling me that whatever it is I’m giving myself permission to do, or want, or believe, is ok. Now, I know it sounds a little “Woo Woo”, maybe even silly, but stay with me. Imagine that thing you wanted to do with all your heart when you were young. Maybe a trip you wanted to take on winter break from school. But there were other pressures, work, family, all talking louder in your head. True story, I took this trip, but got permission from my Dad, and folks, I was an adult – a college age adult – but an adult nonetheless.

As an adult, particularly at this stage in life, shouldn’t it be me who is giving myself permission. Don’t get me wrong, I haven’t asked my Dad in years. But I’ll be honest, the voices I hear in my head as I contemplate taking one action or another, are they mine or someone else’s? Sometimes it’s a repeating tape that I’m sure my parents didn’t record, and would probably laugh at, but I internalized as true.

What permission slip would you want to write yourself? I think mine would go something like this…

Dear Lisa, this is your permission slip to live a bold life. You can have your own thoughts, your own beliefs. You have permission to make mistakes, the world will not end. You have permission to dream, what have you been waiting for anyways? While you’re at it, you not only have permission, but I am telling you – replace those crappy floors in your house, and the bathroom. You’re waiting for circumstances to be perfect, but they never will be. And take a nap! The world won’t pass you by. You spend a lot of time thinking and I give you permission to simply BE. Be, and love, and experience all that is your life. Your authentic self is chomping at the bit to move forward. Take her lead, take risks, you have my permission.

What would your permission slip look like? Would it be to live boldly, to finally forgive a loved one who hurt you, to take a well-deserved break in your life? You don’t need permission for any of it because you know yourself better than anyone. You know what it would look like to live your best life. Yet, the permission slip helps. Even when it’s from yourself. Try it. Be brave. Then get ready for what will show up in your life!

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Lessons from Mr. Rogers

Mr. RogersI’m late to the game. I know the Mr. Roger Neighborhood documentary/movie came out months ago, but it came to my home screen the other night. I can remember watching Mr. Rogers when I was little as it was one of 2 shows my mom approved me to watch. I will admit to sneaking in a little Wonderful World of Disney and their weekly movie on my little 13 inch black and white TV in my room. But on a more regular basis, Sesame Street, followed by Mr. Rogers.

Here’s the truth. I can remember watching Mr. Rogers and thinking, “move…it…along.” Seriously. Was I 5? 6? Not sure, but not much older and I can remember it seeming slow to me. Get to Make Believe Land already! These were the early years of Mr. Rogers, it aired the first time when I was a year old. But I don’t think it ever lost that pace.

Looking back, I wonder if my little self was either missing, or didn’t want to hear the message he was sharing. I’ve read, and now watched in the movie, about the messages he shared with children. It seems to me that his greatest desire was to listen to children and to normalize what was going on in the world around them. He tackled racism, death, divorce, fear, not being like other people…topics that as grown adults we shy away from, not to mention the multitude of others that he talked to kids about day after day, week after week.

And I wonder why that is? Why is it so difficult to have conversations about certain topics? Particularly with children. Imagine as a child feeling like you’re not like other kids, or that kids don’t like you, or make fun of you. I think that’s every child’s experience to some degree or another. I actually think it’s many adult’s experience as well. But instead of talking about it, we try and make it go away. We try and fix it. We dismiss it. With adults, we tell them to get over it, or to not worry about what others think.

But that doesn’t make the feelings go away. In my mind, what assuages feelings is acknowledging them. Normalizing them. Conversations that help people see that they are not alone. That someone else has felt the way they do.

I have coffee every Saturday morning with a girlfriend. We’re both early risers and are at our local Starbucks by about 6 a.m. We’re the same age and met a couple years ago when I was intent on meeting other women and making friends. It all started over a shared love of Athleta workout pants. She had a brightly colored pair and I commented. The rest is history. And yes, there was coffee that day.

One of the aspects I love the most about those mornings is that we share experiences and it’s confirmation that we’re not alone. We’ve had similar experiences and if one is wrestling with something, the other has probably been there and normalizes it. Having people in your life who can relate to what you’re going through is critically important. I believe for both men and women, though I can only talk about my experience as a woman.

It’s a lie that we have to go through life on our own. And, honestly, there are some areas where we need to talk to other women (or men as the case may be). I think my husband is thankful I have my coffee talks, I work through a lot of the craziness in my head over a Venti. Plain coffee for me, you didn’t ask, but I’m offering…nothing fancy.

Back to Mr. Rogers, that’s who he was for children. Every day. He’d tackle topics that adults are often hesitant to talk about with kids in a gentle way. He made them normal. He used Daniel Striped Tiger, King Friday XIII, Lady Elaine, and others on the show to talk through real issues children were facing. And he did it all while acknowledging kids for who they were and loving on them. That’s what we all want, to be known and loved.

If you haven’t watched this movie, it’s worth it. And the brave step I’d encourage you to take today? Love each other. Just as Mr. Rogers did, just as God calls us to do. It doesn’t have to be complicated, or over intellectualized. Just…love…each…other.

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Why don’t my shoes fit? Looking for true answers…

Wrong FeetI was pretty sure my foot had grown, deformed, or something else had happened overnight the other day to explain why my shoes were SO uncomfortable. All day, I was wiggling my foot around, side to side, trying to adjust it. Convinced my foot had decided to make a bigger footprint, literally, I had decided to throw the shoes away when I got home. It’s not you, shoes, it’s me, but we’re breaking up.

Cut to a video meeting I had the afternoon of that same day. A demo, actually. I was feeling fairly snoozy and looking for ways to stay awake. I looked down at the shoes that had betrayed me and realized they were on…the…wrong…feet. I was so startled that I, in all professionalism, stopped the meeting to call myself out on it. I mean, I’m a 50-year-old woman, what the heck?

I’d spent all day in discomfort, thinking something else was wrong, that it wasn’t the shoes, that maybe my shoes were in Honey, I Shrunk the Kids, and forgot me. But no, it was a situation I put myself in.

My shoes made me think about those times in life when we’re in uncomfortable situations. When it feels like our life is out of sync. So often, we put ourselves there in the first place. And in the same vein, the change to be more comfortable is one that we must initiate. No one can do it for us.  But how quickly do we turn to wanting to ditch that which causes discomfort? And what does that do?

Nothing. Sure, in my case my foot would have been more comfortable…but I would have been out a good pair of shoes. But, let’s say the problem really was that my foot had spread out like peanut butter on a hot day. Throwing the shoes away would have done nothing to solve that challenge. We’re so quick to jump to the solution that causes us the least struggle, that puts the onus on someone or something else. But unless we look at the piece of the struggle we’ve caused, we’re no further along.

Shoe-gate also made me key into my intuition. It was a simple situation, but I knew something was off and I couldn’t quite get to the answer. I had the feeling it was something else besides the idea that my foot had grown, but instead of trusting myself and my intuition, I kept looking outward. I believe my intuition is strong, but my past pattern has been to rely on what I can see and touch rather than what I know.

Trusting our intuition is part of looking inward. Trusting ourselves instead of external forces. We know what is true for us, what we need. We’re programmed to not trust that, but instead to look externally for answers. I’ve been challenging myself to trust my intuition, to tap into it. It requires tuning out the noise of the world and tuning into that still small voice inside of me.

Somedays it feels like life throws us constant curveballs, but I’d suggest it doesn’t have to feel like that. What if what we face is not really a curveball at all, but a chance to turn internally and make a choice to let it slide by? To ask ourselves if it we need to respond at all? And to trust what comes up. It may be that the curveball is an opportunity to grow part of us, or an opportunity to let go of a belief or action that no longer serves us. Reacting to the external curveball won’t produce growth, looking internally will.

Listening to ourselves, to the inner voice, making a choice to respond, or not…it’s all part of shaping our authentic self. Of sorting out life and determining which pieces we want as part of our story. It’s being brave. It’s looking past the obvious, the shoes, to see what else could be happening. And knowing in some cases it actually is the shoes and to save our energy for other true changes.

Today, can you choose to let those so-called challenges sit in front of you and simply observe them? Don’t react. Observe. And trust that you have the answer inside you. Trust your intuition. You’ll find peace in staying within your true self. And you may even keep that pair of shoes.

 

 

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What is your intention?

IMG_5942The rumbling on this topic started a few days ago at a Soul Gathering I attended at LOLO Mind Body and Soul. The leader, Lauren, is my nutritional psychology coach and I’ve made a lot of progress working with her on the topic of body acceptance among a myriad of other topics. The Soul Gathering was something different. It was a collection of women who gathered to heal together. We meditated as a group and Lauren gave a powerful talk on intention. The power of setting intention in your life and the resulting impact.

I’ve read about intention, probably talked with Lauren about it, so I was cruising along. Yeah…I got this. Was feeling a little cocky about it. She spun it with a different twist though that really caught me in the gut…cause that’s where I feel everything.

Let’s pause for a minute here while I talk about intent. Particularly in the space of self-development, I’ve read and thought about the power of setting an intention. Knowing where you want to go, to grow, to be is one thing. But really seeing that in your mind’s eye. Visualizing yourself in that space, taking those steps, arriving at the destination, that’s the work.

Through a guided meditation, Lauren had each of us set an intention. See it, feel it, touch it. Well, that’s no sweat. I want to write a book, it’s rolling around in my head and so, no brainer, that was my intention. This time instead of just saying it, I could see it, turn the pages, see others reading it.

Lauren continued, talking about the blocks we put up that get in the way of reaching your intention. My ears perked up a little bit. Things were getting real. As she spoke, and I meditated on her words, I could see it.

I’d been holding on to a VW sized rock that was getting in the way of moving forward.

Other…people’s…expectations.

The book that is in my heart is a journey. It’s my journey to find who I am. Truly discover myself as a woman and what I believe, what I desire, where I want to go. I believe that is a journey many women desire to take but are held back by fear, by other people’s expectations, by the unknown. Real life stuff.

My book is about all of that. About taking all of that and wrestling it to the ground and then rumbling with it, as Brene Brown described it in Rising Strong. It’s one thing to see it, but quite another altogether to wrestle with it, to own the emotions, to see the why behind your reactions. It’s messy, it’s emotional, but it’s good. And I mean really good work to do. Of course, when your feeling like a wrung-out rag after, go fill yourself up…preferably with coffee, or shoes.

I’m not writing a book that will make everyone feel happy. I’m writing a book to make people think – about their own journey. And through sharing parts of mine, I know there will be people who don’t share my views. And the rumble for me is to be ok with that. The learning for those people will be different than others.

Now that I can see that block in reaching my intention, I need to do my own work. Authenticity isn’t a pageant category. Can you imagine, swimsuit competition, a show of who the person really is – their authentic self, and, wrap that up with talent? Quite a different contest altogether. And truly, authenticity is not a popularity content. It’s being true to yourself, which is independent of other people’s expectations.

What is your intention today? What blocks are you consciously or subconsciously putting in the way of reaching it. This week do that work. I guarantee I’ll be on that train with you. Reframing how I look at writing my book in terms of the story in me vs. what will please others. Scary, I get it. But you are brave my friend, braver than you know.

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Assuming the best

Best I canWhen my kids were young, they had a teacher that I clashed with, constantly. I didn’t get her. Granted, I was far (said with the most emphasis you can imagine) more conservative, stuffy, prideful…oh just keep going…than I believe I am today. There was a way my kids should be taught. The experience in school and extracurricular activities should be handled in a certain way. I had many opinions. I was even president of the PTA for awhile and it’s fair to say the school staff probably laughed about me as “that parent” over wine.

Deep breath. So thankful to not be that person anymore. Granted, my kids are adulting and turned out awesome, if I do say so, in spite of the control freak ways I went about their early childhood.

Back to that teacher. Here’s the interesting thing. Through the magic of social media, I have learned that she and I, we’re not as different as I thought. In fact, some of her parenting situations are no different than mine. And, thinking back on it from the space I’m in today, I can understand the approaches she had with her students and have much greater appreciation for it.

Once I came to this realization, I rolled it around in my head for a couple weeks. And, not coincidentally I believe, I had other experiences, other learnings, in that time, that made me take a step back and look at myself.

One that was impactful for me was a lesson in the Brene Brown Daring Leader class I’m enrolled in. The general message was that people are doing the best they can. Think about that for a minute. Let it sink in.

I’ve heard this before and appreciated the way Brene talked about it, saying that she was skeptical of this concept. Honestly, I can be, at times, too. But the thing about it that I can identify with is that given their circumstance (which is not your circumstance) and the skills they have, the vast majority of people don’t want to suck. I believe people want to do well. They desire to do the best they can. You may not think that because you compare them to you and how you would handle situations.

News flash…other people are not you.

The person sitting next to you in a meeting? They may be facing a difficult situation at home – or may not have had the education you have. Conversely, they may be brilliant and you feel like you have the intelligence of a two year old next to them. Either way, in that moment, you’re doing the best you can, and so are they. Take it further. Let’s say the person next to you shows behavior you’re not a fan of. Are they doing the best they can? Might be hard to stay in that space, right? But if we extend the grace we hope others are extending us, I’d say yes. Again, people don’t want to show up and suck. Really. I haven’t done the research, but I feel pretty good about that “fact.”

Authentic-self time. I encourage you to do this with me. Am I doing my best? Am I living authentically? Having conversations I need to have? Living and speaking as my true self? I don’t always feel that way. But, the still small voice in my head would say yes. Each moment, I’m showing up the best I can. Doesn’t mean there aren’t different ways I want to show up, but in that moment? Yes, I’m doing the best I can. That’s not a copout, it’s reality, one which each of us faces every day. If there’s more I want, different ways I want to live and show up in the moment, that’s on me. That’s where being brave – combined with self-compassion and grace – takes over.

I feel like staying on track with the authentic self is a day by day adventure. I’m going to continue the conversation in my social media this week. You know by now my head is always working on something, so get ready! I’m going to be brave and I hope that you will be in looking at yourself and your relationships too!

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Being brave…making our own choice

Owl in the tree - ShameI’ve been thinking about what I want to do with my life. Sounds grandiose but it’s not really. It’s more about how I want to play out my work life. The impact I want to have on people. Not a new path for my mind to take and one that has produced tremendous amounts of angst.

Make lists, pros and cons, mind map…yeah, done that. Different ways to search for the ideal solution. In the midst of the tornado swirl in my mind, a simple thought came to me the other day. As I wrestled to determine what I really feel, behind the scenes, I was wading past what I believed were other people’s expectations. Truths that weren’t mine, but that I’d made my own, or which I thought had to be my own.

As I thought more about it, I began to notice that there was another feeling coming up. It would flit in and out, not long enough to really grab hold of.

And it started to creep into other areas of my life. My voice, more specifically using my voice. Feeling I could speak my own thoughts, opinions, freely without retribution. That when I spoke, what I had to say would be respected, even if not agreed with. I realized that I sometimes refrain from using my voice when I believe it’s contrary to the opinion of those around me. I chose silence over my truth.

I had a chance to spend a long time meditating today, just letting thoughts float by. That’s when it hit me.

Shame.

Underneath my career angst/ inability to chart a path forward and choosing silence about my true thoughts was shame. And here’s how I knew. It wasn’t so much that I was afraid of feeling guilty, of thinking that by saying or doing something I do the wrong thing. It’s that by what I did or said it would show I was a bad person. Not worthy, not enough, small.

And that’s not the truth.

Say, for example, I choose tomorrow to start a second phase in my work life. One where I coach full time and spend a great deal of time writing. Sounds glorious. However, I like my current role, and am quite connected to the people I work with. It’s a supporting environment where I have developed fulfilling relationships with the team. But if I chose to leave and recreate my work life, it would be just that. A decision. The work choices I may are not that black and white but whatever I do or don’t do, it’s a decision. And with a decision would come consequences. But the decision in and of itself doesn’t have the power to create shame.

I create shame, we create shame. Letting what I think other people believe about a decision, an opinion, a truth of mine hold me in a tight net of fear. Fear prompted by a desire to avoid shame. Brene Brown calls perfectionism a desire to avoid shame, blame or judgement. Fear of speaking or living your truth because of what others might think, of the judgement, the blame, the shame you might feel, it’s not healthy. It’s a form of perfectionism – not the good kind.

Thinking about the analysis paralysis some of us feel at times as a mechanism to avoid shame proved incredibly insightful for me. Fear of vulnerability? Maybe it’s avoidance of shame – that story in your head that you are a bad person.  Indecision, not moving life forward? Same. I believe I’ve unconsciously held myself on a steady, safe path to avoid the potential shame I might feel if I lived authentically. If I’d made decisions that might take me on a path I wanted but then questioned my choice. Or a path that others might disapprove of. But if they did, or if my path wasn’t what I thought, so what? Honestly, so what?

That’s where grace comes in. Grace instead of shame. Authenticity and self-compassion.

I believe with all my heart that I am not the only one who experiences these feelings. The fear of feeling shame and the resulting reluctance to live an authentic life. What I know is that if we can get to the root and realize where the feelings come from, we can call them out, whether they are shame or something else. Lay them down and know that taking risks is brave. We can all use to be brave more often. That’s my truth – and I plan to speak and live it boldly.