Category: Strong Women

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He so loved the world…

love yourself 2The last few days I’ve been thinking about the concept of love. More specifically, loving myself and others loving themselves. I think it’s pressing on me this week given that today is Easter. The verse from the Bible, “For God so loved the world…” John 3:16, seems particularly significant at this time of the year. What I was thinking about the other day is the idea that God so loved me. God so loved you. And it made me stop for a minute.

Granted, I’ve heard that my whole life and believe it, but I wonder if I ever believed it, believed it in my heart? And why is that? The answer goes a lot deeper. To believe someone, I suppose even God, would love me, I would have to believe that I’m lovable. That doesn’t mean I don’t think people love me, I believe that. But do you ever really think about loving yourself? Knowing others love me is one thing, accepting it is another. Really how can I accept it when I question if I truly love myself.

I wonder if I’m atypical in my thinking? Sometimes we’re told that if we love ourselves we’re prideful, or self-absorbed. Instead, we spend our lives looking for ways to make ourselves better. We work on creating versions of ourselves that we believe meet the expectations of everyone around us. We fight against our true selves. I’ll love myself when…I’m accomplished, I’m the right weight, I’ve really made a difference, fill in the blank. We put it off, holding off unconditional love until we are just right. But will we ever be “just right?”

Probably not. At least not from our perspective. And if we don’t love ourselves unconditionally, how are we going to accept that kind of love from anyone else? From God, from our spouse? Whether or not they put parameters around it, we will. And in doing so we hold ourselves back from experiencing the love that could be ours. I’d even say that it’s a cycle that can undermine our relationships. Shortchanging ourselves of the abundant love that’s there for us, that God intended for us. We dismiss the love others freely give to us because we can’t believe it’s true.

This week during my quiet time, when my mind was supposed to be still, it wasn’t (honestly, it never is), and in wandering, it stumbled over the strongest feeling that I need to lay down what is holding me back from loving myself, just as I am. Honestly, that’s a little scary, the “just as I am,” part. Again though, if I can’t love my authentic self, how can I accept the love others have for me? And so I will. I’ll love myself, just as I am. I invite you the search your heart and honestly love yourself. Bravely examine your heart to determine if you accept love from others, from God. On this Easter day, I believe that we should all look for more love in the world, starting with ourselves and from there, sharing that love with others, just as God intended. I hope I can count you in for taking the journey with me.

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Pilot Lights

Finds what sparks youOver the last few years, I’ve had a saga with my air conditioning. I’ve called my home warranty to fix it every year. A couple years ago, someone came out and whatever was going on led them into the attic. After hours up there and even more time at the unit outside, like magic, I had cool air again. I didn’t think twice about it until the cooler weather rolled around. Something didn’t seem quite right. It was the time of year that was dark outside and cold inside, without the air on, and my heater was not performing up to par. My son and I couldn’t figure it out and I spent a good amount of time on the phone with support trying to make sure my thermostat worked. Finally, they agreed to send someone out. First place the guy went? Attic. When he emerged a short time later, I found out I’d just paid $60 to have him relight my pilot light. Apparently, the guy over the summer put it out during the air fiasco and it doesn’t magically relight itself. Once on, the heat fired up and life was good.

It’s amazing to me that a small spark lights the pilot and it leads to heat throughout the house.

Some of you have followed my coaching journey which has basically been…go through coaching class…get fired up…pass my exam and become a certified coach…watch the fire dwindle. I use it at work at times and don’t get me wrong, it’s enormously helpful. But other than that, my passion to launch into that arena has fizzled somewhat. I think to some degree it’s been self-preservation. Continuing to yearn for something I couldn’t seem to wrap my brain around, launching a coaching practice, just made me feel like I was a failure. In my head I thought I had to be in business for myself to be legit. Again, coaching at work fills my passion to some degree, but not entirely.

While I don’t have a coaching practice, I do coach people here and there and after a year had accumulated the hours necessary to apply for the next level coaching certification. I did, but before I could be awarded the certification, I had to take an exam. Boo! Not a fan of tests but Friday, I sucked it up and took it. After more than two hours and losing internet connection twice (leading me to relocate to Starbucks for their reliable internet – and iced green tea, I’m addicted), I got the screen “are you sure you want to submit and be scored?” No, not really. But I did, and I passed.  ACC – check.

Afterwards, I reflected on the feelings I experienced during the exam. It challenged me and excited me at the same time. As I worked through the different situations, it reminded me of the passion I have for coaching. Working with people and helping them find their answers so they can more forward in life. Oddly enough, the exam was like that pilot light in my attic. It sparked the passion I’d put on the back burner.

So now here I am, more letters behind my name – for whatever that’s worth – and a renewed passion for the field I found later in life, but that I think life prepared me for. How I keep the passion engaged is a bit unknown to me right now, but I don’t want to lose the spark, the pilot light, that fires up the whole thing. I’ll keep using it the way I am now, but I’m looking for more. If I’m being authentic, I have to be honest and say I’ve likely been a bit fearful and that’s held me back. Fearful of failing. But I’ve also learned that failing is ok because I’ll learn from it.

Even though I don’t know what’s next, what I do know is that I’ll be brave. I’ve held myself back on many things in life and I’m about done with that. Are you holding back? Stopping yourself from living out your gifts and talents, your passion out of fear? Come along with me then. If we fail, we fail, but we can say we step out and lived bravely.

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Who do you compare to?

comparisonI’ve been doing a women’s devotional called the Comparison Trap by Sandra Stanley. It stems from a series of sermons her husband, Andy Stanley, gave where he talks about that battle with Er. Have you heard of it? The battle to be prettier, wealthier, thinner, happier, craftier… pick our own Er battle, but the truth is we all have them. Pinterest, love it, daily user, not gonna lie, gives you opportunities every day to feel less-er, comparing to the glorious homes, birthday parties, glam that others have going for them. Beyond the Joanna Gaines inspired homes I recently perused, there are many other ways we compare each day – Facebook, Instagram, you name it – people putting on their best game for us to view, and it’s easy to fall into the trap of feeling less than.

In the devotional yesterday, I was challenged to look at what I’m jealous of, envious, where I’m dissatisfied. Here’s the straight up truth. Yes, I desire the beautifully decorated homes, but if I think of others, I’m not jealous of them. Other people who have more? I’m genuinely happy for them. And as I did the exercise, I thought I must be missing it if I didn’t have jealously, but I don’t. Then it hit me. The a-ha moment.

It’s not others I’m comparing to, it’s myself.

My own standards for excellence.

Ouch – that smack in the face hurts.

The comparison battle I wage is with myself. I fight a battle to reach a standard of excellence I’ve created in my mind. I have this ideal that has evolved over the years that I compare myself to every day. It starts each morning when I get dressed. Pants a little snug? Falling short there. Miss something at work? Yep, another shortcoming. Haven’t cleaned my house this week? Cooked a 5-star meal for my husband? All areas where I think I should be performing. Not in comparison to anyone else, but against the vision of myself I’ve created over the years. And I suppose that was based on the barrage of messages I’ve received from many, many sources, over the years. The challenge today is that it’s become engrained in my mind as who I should be.

As I sat and thought about that reality yesterday, I was not a fan. Not one little bit. My battle is an internal one, my mind playing out a storyline that’s not true. So how to stop it?

The same way I stopped the comparison to other people. Over the years, I’ve shifted my thinking to appreciate other people instead of being jealous or envious of them. I appreciate beauty in others. Would rather share their success than envy it. Celebrate their creativity and gain insight from them. Genuinely admire their individuality and know that their journey is theirs alone, not one I must mirror.

It’s the same thinking that leads to surrender in my own battle, and in yours. For me, shifting to appreciating myself, my circumstance, as unique unto me, for my own purpose, is the same as the shift that can happen in you.

It’s a challenge for me, it’s raw, but it’s also part of the authenticity journey I’ve chosen for this year. I know that many of you face comparison battles of your own. I get it. Today, could each of us choose to appreciate instead of compare? Be brave enough to turn the mirror to look at and appreciate ourselves for the unique people we are? And then celebrate each other? It’s a choice to love…ourselves and others. I hope you’ll make it with me.

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What is your gift?

share your giftsI am creative. There, I said it. And now? Breaking out in a cold sweat mitigated only by my tasty Starbucks coffee. Let’s up the stakes a little. I am creative and I am going to write a book. Really. Now that I’ve said it I feel a little queasy. It feels a bit like pride, but it’s not pride to accept and state a gift that God has given you. Why is it that it’s so hard to embrace our own talents and gifts?

This weekend I’m volunteering at a training session for the coaching program I went through. As I sit in the back of the class I’m reminded of the emotions I went through when I participated in the program. There was one exercise where you had to identify qualities you appreciate about yourself, your gifts. As if that wasn’t hard enough, you had to “phone a friend,” and do the same. Nope. Not doing that. I remember it clearly. Saying in my head, “not doing that.” Instead I texted. What I got back was so touching. Now this isn’t a regular process you’re going to go through, think of it, “Hey, what do you like about me?” Every day? No. But in this context, there was value.

So often I believe we play small. We listen to that voice inside us that is quick to remind of failure or tell us that we don’t deserve to be happy, be content, be ________ – it’s different for all of us.

But it’s also the same. One of the awesome parts of the volunteering weekend is that a friend of mine from the coaching program is here with me. We’ve had great conversations and something I notice is that we have many of the same challenges. Truth is, we all go through similar challenges – alone. No one wants to talk about the struggles. We cruise along like we have it all together, even when we don’t. Somewhere along the way we’ve adopted the idea that we must have it all together, or at least make others believe it. We compare ourselves to other people, which is, in my opinion, one of the worst things we can do for ourselves. If we’re comparing, it’s only to the stuff we can see, what they choose to show us. That doesn’t account for all the struggle they’ve been through, the hard stuff.

What if, when you started to compare yourself to another person, you paused and thought about the whole person? They may have the perfect, fit, body, but what if you also knew that their parents divorced when they were young, and that they struggled with anorexia, and had crippling anxiety? You don’t see that on the outside. What if instead you looked at them from a place of appreciation, or admiration and love. Just loving them for the person they are instead of comparing. Learn to truly know those around you rather than making judgements, which is – to a degree – what comparison is.

I’d include our own selves in that too. What if we learned to appreciate ourselves, our gifts? What if we gave ourselves grace for the hard times we’ve been through – and we’ve all been through them – they might look different but are there nonetheless.

This leads me back to the book. I’m going to get out of my own way and do it. I was trying to make it complicated, map out a plan, set up time frames, blah, blah, blah. I was comparing to the Pinterest way of writing a book – there’s plenty out there on it, seemed right to follow one of those plans. My coaching friend, Karla, asked me how I write this blog, what I love about writing. Honestly, it’s being creative and pouring what’s in my head onto paper. There’s no plan. If you’re here often, you can probably see that. It’s what I’m thinking about today. She asked me why a book needs to be different? Truth is, it doesn’t. Wisdom in that.

What are you trying to complicate that in, reality, is simple? What gifts do you have that you keep on a shelf or keep small? God didn’t give you those gifts to stay hidden. It feels a little weird if I’m being honest, grab hold of those gifts and use them! It’s part of the authenticity journey. It’s being brave. I’d love to hear your gifts, your talents. Let’s encourage each other instead of comparing, we’re in this together, every step of the way.

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Love ALL the Parts

no one claps forI keep thinking about the massage I had in Sonoma a couple weeks ago during my Treat Yo’ Self weekend. It capped off what was a relaxing weekend of trying to just be with myself. One of the biggest a-ha moments came for me during that massage. For the first time, probably ever, someone paid attention to my stump, the part of my foot that remained after having it amputated when I was 4. Let me say that again, for the first time ever…ever, someone paid attention to it – outside of when it’s been looked at as part of a medical exam, or if something is wrong, or that leg is in pain, or when my nieces beg to look at it. You get the picture.

And it struck me so strongly, because I’d never really thought about it. I believe that having an amputation when you’re young makes it immensely easier. I grew up with it and learned how to do anything I wanted to with it. There was hilarity around it in high school, we used it for pranks, but because my leg is inside a prosthesis, I never paid attention to the part that is actually my body. To a large degree, that’s an ok thing. (Side note, I don’t want to leave anyone with the idea that my leg was a disability, or a hindrance to me. It really wasn’t, that’s not my point here.)

But…what’s lingered in my mind was the sense that I hadn’t just ignored it, that perhaps what I’d done is neglect it. Think about a part of yourself, a part that is different maybe, and imagine that you never did anything but routine care for it. Imagine if you did that with someone you love, your child, your spouse. They would wither. Fade. Shrink. They might even get angry, or sad.

Stay with me.

Imagine that part of you that is different, or that you don’t like. And you ignore it, you ignore you. It doesn’t go away. It’s part of you. To not like, not love, a part of you…it’s likely not just that part of you that starts to fade, to wither, it’s all of you. Sit with it for a minute. We read about loving ourselves, and I firmly believe in that. And I also know that’s something I’m still working on. Shoot, I about choke if I try to say that I love myself out loud…alone in my room. But it’s the goal.

How am I, or really, how are any of us, supposed to truly love ourselves if there are parts of us, in my case, an actual limb, that are ignored? That I sort of pretend isn’t there. I don’t hide it or deny it, I just roll on without caring for it as I would another part of myself. And what do you do with that?

I think what you do is something different. In my case, if I really do want to love myself, I need to love all of myself, good, different, bumpy, wrinkly…the whole enchilada. Even thinking about it makes me a little queasy, no joke. And maybe I’m thinking about it too much. I just need to do it. Right now it’s just thoughts in my head. Those are nothing if I don’t act.

Now I’m turning the mirror on you. What part of you do you hide, or ignore, or dislike? Whatever it is, it’s part of you. You can wish to change it, and maybe you can, but loving all the parts of you at the end of the day is so important. My heart was so sad to realize what I’d been doing, or rather, not doing. That part of me, my stump, my leg, it’s me. It’s Lisa. What I went through with it…that’s part of my story…part of what made me brave…it’s part of the authentic me. And you? You’re uniquely made with all the parts of you. Love them. Love you. And take that love and share it with others.

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Treat Yo’Self

Treat Yo SelfTreat Yo’Self was a repeating bit on Parks and Recreation, an awesome, hilarious show that I binged with my husband last year. Tom and Donna would go all out and have a day dedicated to indulging in shopping, good food and things that made them feel ‘treated’. I latched on to the idea and have waited for an opportunity to treat my self.  And I made it happen last week.

The plan was…go to Sonoma, alone, stay at an indulgent hotel, relax poolside, go to the spa, the mineral pools, get a massage, do some yoga…and spend time in personal reflection. I did all those things! Not kidding. What was interesting was the narrative going on in my mind the entire time. Let me break it down.

My mind is rarely still. As much as I wanted it to be a weekend where I was at peace, resting my mind and body, my mind was cheated. In fact, it seemed like it may have been on overdrive. Massage…should be a quiet time in my brain, right? No dice. As much as I tried, the thoughts kept floating back. It got to the point where I even talked to the massage therapist about it. Karli told me that it was not uncommon for people to struggle with keeping their mind still. Great…but didn’t get me closer to my objective. When I finally decided to stop resisting and just listen to myself, here’s what I noticed.

I think a lot about responsibility. About home, work, marriage, friends, what to make for dinner, how will the house get clean since I’m laying on a massage table…all kinds of responsibility that come with those areas of life. And it’s a matter of juggling in my head. Keeping all the balls in the air. In reality, I’ve realized that a lot of those balls aren’t supposed to be mine in the first place. I am the only one who has an expectation that I keep them up.

Deep breath…there’s also a worthiness element to it. In my mind I question whether I’mForgiveness in the fire worthy enough to take the time to treat myself. Sadly, I know I’m not alone in this. Just that thought makes me sad. But not enough that I don’t have the thoughts. I have a shame loop that plays in my head. One which I’m working on letting go of, but which is set on shuffle. Which past situation will play in my head today and push me back down, keep me small? I want those thoughts to subside and I work diligently to release them. I’ve been writing a letter to myself, forgiving myself for the things I’ve done that caused me to feel that way, that developed the shame playlist. I added to that letter last week and then I burned it – at the fancy hotel – in their decorative fire pit. Thankfully, no one was around to witness it. I mean, I think I may have gotten a little flack for burning the letter in the gas fire pit, maybe? That would have defeated the release for sure. Do I feel better after burning it? A little. And that’s ok. If I can feel a little better at a time, it will add up, I’m sure of it!

There were plenty of other aha moments that I’ll spare you of but the last, really, really big one happened during my massage. I did this whole chocolate cinnamon body scrub followed by an hour massage. Could I eat the scrub? Yes, but I refrained. I think I’ve mentioned before that I don’t have a foot so I wear a prosthetic leg. Because it was a scrub, I took my leg off – something I don’t normally do for a massage. And my gal Karli scrubbed that leg and foot too. Dramatic pause… Because here’s the thing, that leg, that part of me, and the experience of going through it at a young age, it’s something that’s always there but not something I pay a lot of attention to. So to have attention paid to the physical limb, it rocked me a little bit. It was a punch in the gut if I’m honest. What am I going to do about it? Well, I’m rolling that around in my head and honestly, I’m fairly certain I’ll be writing about it again soon.

But I’ll leave you today with these thoughts. Treat Yo Self? It’s awesome and everyone should do it. What happens in your mind, what happened in mine? That’s part of the journey. My treat yo’self weekend likely looks different than yours. Awesome! Whatever it is that makes you feel special – do that! There are many in the world who would say it’s indulgent – I don’t care. It’s part of my authentic journey. Take time now and then to give yourself the care you are giving others.  Be brave my sweet friends, you owe it to yourselves.

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The battle inside

Authenticity-Quote-2I’ve been thinking lately about the changes we go through in life, namely, menopause. Well, maybe not menopause itself, but this process my female body is going through as I transition in life to something else, something unknown. For me, it started years ago, the hot flashes, the moods, all that jazz. Now I’m in a new phase – the done phase – but there are other things that come with that, some of which I’m none to pleased about. I keep looking for the answer, the fix. The solution that will make what I’m experiencing stop.

But here’s the thing I’m realizing. It’s not going to stop. There is no magic pill but nonetheless I’ve spent an awful lot of time and energy looking for the solution. What I’m starting to realize is, all that stuff I’m experiencing? It’s part of the deal. The female body is meant to be in this phase. As I’ve said before, I grew two humans with my body, my body has done amazing things, but now it’s done with that and on to supporting me in different experiences in life. The a-ha I had the other day was that I’ve been fighting, resisting this process that is natural. I’m not fighting because I’m afraid of it, at least I don’t think so. But because my view of the ideal, the way I think I should look and feel, is not what I’m experiencing. So there’s this internal battle constantly waging within me. It’s the battle I’m fighting.

In all honesty, it’s part of self-acceptance. Of accepting my body the way it’s supposed to be in this phase of life. Of loving it instead of wanting parts of it to ‘get with the program.’ The longer I stay in opposition with myself, is that much less I can actually enjoy what ahead for me in this stage.

So as my mind does, it spun the idea that I may be fighting with myself into other areas of life. Think about it. Maybe it’s that feeling that you are just short of fulfilling your purpose. But for whatever reason, it’s just at the end of your fingertips. There is always something that holds you back. Truth is, I’m starting to wonder if that something is you, or in my case, me. I have ambitions that I’ll stop short of because I fight myself on it. I find the excuses. Excuses that are really just a mask for fear.

It’s that way in relationships at times. The desire to go deeper is there. It’s so real that you can almost touch it. Almost. But you don’t. You keep creating circumstances that stop you just short of going deep, or true connection. Why are you doing that???

The fight, I think, is somewhat to maintain the status quo. The reality that I’ve created for myself. The changes in life, the progression of my body, stepping into my purpose, my calling, they rock the boat. I fight to keep things as they are, not because I necessarily like the status quo, but I know it. The harder I fight, the more I hold on to the very thing that I’m supposed to be moving through, moving past. Experiences I’m naturally designed and destined to move through – or move into. There is no magic that’s going to get me there.  It’s only by allowing myself to stop fighting and to embrace, to relax into it, to love the journey.

So, I ask you, what are you fighting? What battle can you lay down? What can you do today to embrace you and all the joy God has for you? Today, not tomorrow. We’ve waited long enough. Be authentic, be brave.

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What’s holding you back?

Its-Not-Who-You-Are-That-Holds-You-BackI watch This is Us. If you don’t, your missing up on some good drama. A tug at your heart every week, sometimes for unexpected reasons. There are elements of the show, in each of the characters, I relate to. This week I was left thinking about one of the scenes that really spoke to me. So this is your spoiler alert, I’m going to talk about it.

Kate, one of the main characters, is morbidly obese and one of the storylines is around her struggle and wanting to lose weight. The story is told is current day and in flashbacks. This week they showed Kate in a flashback at about 16/17 years old. She was shopping for a prom dress and had the number 7 written on her wrist. As she recalled this story, you saw her grab a variety sizes and when she tried the 7 on, it fit perfectly. But she had struggled with weight her whole life. And having a piece of clothing she really wanted fit was an experience she didn’t know how to have. Instead, she tried on a size 3 dress that was far to small, and the sensation of it not fitting, of having to struggle, was one she could relate to. She left that dressing room presumably disgusted with herself, no dress in hand.

It made me wonder how often that happens, whether it be about weight, or about some other piece of ourselves that we work diligently to change, but when it does, we don’t feel equipped, or prepared, to give up our old reality, old definitions of ourselves, and step into our new way of being. I know I’ve struggled with weight and body image a long time and for me to be in a space where I’m friends with myself, with my body, seems to be fleeting. I may not like it, but I’m a lot more comfortable in the space of not liking myself, of how I look.

And I don’t like that I do that, that I stay in that negative image space. I’ve been working long and hard to make progress on it, and I think I’m making strides. From not being fixated about a number on the scale (which I no longer own,) to ignoring the number on my pants.

How do we stay there? How do we embrace the new space we want to be in when our old space…old worn out space…is so comfy, so cozy, so inviting. The new space might feel intimidating. You don’t have all of your ways of operating figured out in this new space. It’s not as comfortable. Here’s what I’d tell you. That’s not a bad thing.  It takes risk. It take realizing that you may have been created “for such a time as this,” (Esther 4:14).  What aspect of your life, what calling, what purpose, are you holding back from out of fear, out of leaving the shore…leaving the cozy. If you want to make strides toward being authentic, to being the best you, it takes being brave. I, for one, think we can do it. I’m in your corner and can’t wait to see where it leads us.

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The show must go on

The words on the front of the memorabilia shirt I got from the Celine Dion concert we went to a couple weeks ago. In a way, those words are a good catch phrase for my life. Not the end all be all phrase, but a good one. You see, I persevere. I’m a soldier, tough cookie. I can be a daisy, but when push comes to shove, I march forward. Think about it, when you see an obstacle, does it stop you, or do you go MacGyver on it and figure out not only a way around but re-engineer it so it’s now an advantage to you? Yeah, I’m usually MacGyver. I take pride in making opportunities out of challenges. It’s the soldier thing.

I remember a time when I was probably 15 and my mom and stepdad took us kids on a backpacking trip. Being a teenager filled with angst, I was having none of it. I bitterly marched on, stone faced, determined not to have fun. After reaching the campsite and dropping our gear, we decided to go up to Summit Lake. A lake, in hindsight, that was beautiful. It sits at the border of the Hoover Wilderness and Yosemite. Along the way we had to cross what I think was a beaver dam across a river. As I went across, my left leg, prosthetic and all, went through the dam, up to my thigh in ice cold water.

Oh really beaver? Game on…

I pulled my leg out and with complete resolve went the rest of the way to Summit Lake. Beaver be dammed (pun not so much intended, but oh so convenient). I wanted no help, nada. The show must go on. I can actually still remember the route to that lake in my head. I think I’d enjoy it a lot more now since nature is my jam, but then? I was a soldier.

So this week, I’ve had an illness trying to get hold of me. True to form, I marched forward. No, I’m not sick…kept going to work…sure I could beat it. Not going to get me down, until I had no choice. I took a death spiral Friday afternoon and all-day Saturday to the point where I started to get a little worried. Fever, coughing, not able to breathe…and worst of all, no appetite. I’m one of those people who never loses their appetite so I knew something must be wrong. It got to the point where when my husband suggested taking me to urgent care late in the day, I agreed. And sure enough, bronchitis. Good thing is I got on drugs and should be getting to the other side soon.

But this really isn’t about my illness, it’s about that mindset. At some point, I’ve realized that perseverance is good. Hard headedness is not. Self-compassion? It’s a strength. Truth is, I need to ask myself, what are you trying to prove? And more importantly, to who? What is it in me that has a hard time admitting frailty, with being seen as anything other than strong and one tough cookie?

The challenge is, I’ve been seen as this person for so long, it’s how people know me. So there’s a small voice in me that questions if they’d still like me if I actually showed the weakness when it arises. When the mask comes off. It’s not that the soldier isn’t part of who I am, but it’s part of authenticity. The authentic me gets sick sometimes. Isn’t always strong. Needs to be carried rather than doing the carrying at times.  Authenticity leans on being brave to be self-compassionate, and lets others see all the parts. It’s part of the journey my friends and if it resonates with you, I encourage you to think about what mask you could put down today. I’m walking right along with you.

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Why not be whimsical?

IMG_4441This week was the rescheduled trip to Vegas my husband and I planned for October – my 50th birthday trip! Birthday aside, the main reason we went to Vegas, because, honestly, I couldn’t care less about Vegas, was to see my diva singer favorite Celine Dion. I’ve always liked her because of her ballad belting voice. I mean, seriously, who does not want to sing along with her?? (and if you are one of those people – how are we friends? – kidding – but seriously, don’t tell me, our friendship will be tainted).

The big night was Tuesday and I was ready, finally letting the excitement build. When we got inside to our awesome seats – my husband rocked the seat selection – I quickly ascertained that we were surrounded by “my people.” 50ish women and their husbands, some of whom I suspect were there willingly, and others along for the ride. I loved the automatic connection I felt with these die-hard fans, and I’m sure that’s what they were because Celine a) is not a cheap ticket, b) is not someone you’d generally see on a whim.

She was everything I’d hoped and more! I felt like our grandkids watching Moana – mouthing every single lyric – that was me with Celine. As we wound down to the end, I noticed people heading towards the front, taking pictures, selfies…what the heck??? This had not been the case earlier in the show, we were seat stay-ers…not venturing out. I told my husband that I thought I wanted to go down there too and he told me to go for it. The only way I can describe myself when I got there was like a giddy teenage girl. Not kidding. Trying to get a selfie with her – not quite getting the angle right to get her and me in the same picture. Violating rules and taking video. Singing out loud at this point. And when she came over, yes, my hand was stretched out and she touched it…I call it a “shook my hand” but really it would be better described as a brushing of our fingers.

The point is, I was silly, and loose, and going outside of my normal comfort zone. I was letting whimsy take me away, and I loved it. Why is that so hard for me on a regular basis? Me on a regular day is fairly straight laced. Start singing a song out loud in public? I think not. Reaching out to touch the star? heavens no – I’m much more reserved. Ok, I’ll say it…reserved to the point of dull, at times.

I was thinking about this as the week wore on and wondering how I could mix things up for myself on a regular basis. How could all of us who are similarly afflicted with the serious gene mix things up? Because as life is now, we go through it making sure to color within the lines, and while that’s responsible, it’s not where most of the fun is, where the joy and excitement in life is.

So today I took a baby step. I was cleaning the house and I put on headphones, dialed in the Celine station of Spotify, and rocked it. Two hours of singing along as I cleaned. It was relaxing, it brought a little joy to an otherwise boring task, and I didn’t worry about how I sounded. My husband later told me he loved hearing me singing as I cleaned. Made him love me more. Surprise there for me. My voice is not particularly melodic so I figured he must really love me for that to be true.

What would it take to live with whimsy more often? To follow our instincts? To show up authentically in situations instead of how we “should” show up? I for one am willing to try. What’s the worst that could happen, I look silly? So what. I don’t really care about looking silly. I’m hoping that my reserved sisters will join in, let’s be whimsical, we can do it, we’re brave!