Honor the peace in your heart

lordbyron1I am an Enneagram Nine. If you’re not familiar with the Enneagram, a rudimentary explanation would be that it is a personality typing system that “types” people based on one of nine roles they usually play. It’s far more complex and layered than that, but that’s the “in a nutshell” version.

The Nine is a Peacemaker, they seek reconciliation. That is me. I have played out much of my life with an aversion to conflict. I physically feel conflict in my body, it is not my desired state. I think back to my poor children. If there was any looming conflict between us, I’d want to talk it through, so we could be done with it an move on. 15-year-old boys don’t want to talk it through with their mom. I was relentless.

Tell me what’s wrong… Tell me what’s wrong…Tell me what’s wrong…

Eventually they’d say, we’d talk it through, done. Moving on.

But I recognize that averting conflict or addressing and moving on isn’t always possible. Truthfully, it’s not always appropriate. Conflict doesn’t have to be difficult, but as a Nine, it doesn’t come easy for me.

The Peacemaker in me explains my historical tendency to “go along to get along.” I know there have been times when I have chosen not to engage because the desire to keep the peace was stronger.

I also recognize that there is an inner voice telling me not to make waves. The voice that also tells me if I speak up I might be disliked or cast aside. I might not belong if I make waves. That’s my inner gremlin – trying to keep me “safe,” but in reality, it only keeps me small.

We all have that voice. What it tells us may be different, but it picks away at your confidence, your strength. You are not enough, not smart enough, not good enough, not brave enough, no one cares what you have to say. It tears you down and keeps you small.

Not fully stepping into the life God gave each of us to live. Because of what? Because we’re afraid that we won’t be loved if we live as our true self?

What I know is that staying small isn’t the plan. It’s not my purpose. And it’s not any of our plans. Because each of us has something important to say. We are not meant to stay small.

We can hear that voice and instead of going along, we can choose to say thank you. Thank you for trying to keep me safe, but I am stronger, I am enough, and what you’re saying isn’t true.

Not staying small unnerves Peacemaker self. Not playing small means using my voice, not just in words on a page, but verbally, to say what’s on my mind, what I believe. It means stepping out of get along rut I can fall into and instead, take a different path. It could mean conflict. But there comes a point where staying small, going along to get along, is corrosive to our soul.

Walking out the full story that God planned for me means speaking up. It doesn’t mean picking a fight, that thought makes me want to go running. It means not staying silent. I know there are many people who feel that way today. They have something to say. We’re all on our own journey, but I believe playing small, keeping the peace for the sake of it is not part of any of our plans. Authenticity is my theme this year. And authenticity isn’t a re-creation of yourself, it’s acting in line with what’s in our hearts. You have it in you. Walk out life with courage, moving forward despite the fear. You are brave.

 

 

 

Creativity, Clarity and Being Brave

Fearless CreativityHave you ever attended a workshop, a conference, a seminar where you left feeling shift within you? That’s what I experienced last week. I went to gorgeous 1440 Multiversity in Scotts Valley, California for the Brave Magic workshop. I’m not sure ‘workshop’ accurately describes the soul searching emotional smack down that the 600 people who attended went through. There was that, and, oh yeah, there was writing.

The writing part is what I anticipated, what I thought I’d signed up for. Cheryl Strayed and Elizabeth Gilbert were the leaders and wove us through a series of letter writing exercises to, from my perspective, allow us to dive deeply into our own hearts so that we could gain clarity and focus moving forward in our own creative process. Because, as Cheryl has said, “anyone can write a letter.”

Mission accomplished.

I’m still not quite sure the emotional hangover has ended, and I’m ok with that because I continue to think about the work I did. Using the creative process to speak truth to myself tapped into my passions. The part of me that feels light, and clear, and joyful.

I want to talk more about gaining clarity. A happy outcome of last week. It can be so hard in our culture because life screams at us from all sides. We’re “supposed to” be doing XYZ or believing XYZ. Other people dictate what is important in our lives and if we’re not careful we can go along like ants in a line, marching to satisfy someone else’s mission. When we break away from the line, our people often try and pull us back. They remind us that life they way they’ve designed it works perfectly and it’s safe. And it may…for them.

At some point it’s healthy to sort through how we want to engage with life. To review the landscape in front of us and go through a process of determining which parts we align with, and for those where we are different, what exactly is does that mean? If you determine you are led down a different path than the one you always thought you’d be on – mainly because you hadn’t thought much about it – you may find that life feels uncertain for a period.

And that’s where spending time gaining clarity comes into play. Your clarity is that inner voice, the one you can trust that says “this is what I want.” It’s not the voice of your “inner terrible someone,” ITS as Cheryl Strayed described it. The ITS wants to keep you safe instead of paying attention to clarity. I know that following and trusting clarity is where the magic is. Clarity shuts down the inner chatter related to your growth, because the ITS is speaking from fear.

Instead of staying in a space of fear, when you have clarity, choose to engage. To fully engage in what you know to be true, that’s the point where you will feel alive. I believe that as you gain clarity and realize you are not engaging in life according to who you now know yourself to be, you can feel like you’re selling yourself short. Betraying your true self. I know I do. Continuing to interact with life instead of engaging my clarity causes a plethora of frustrations and results in operating from a place of doubt and weakness instead of strength.

I walked away from last weekend with more than words could describe, and you may find slivers of it as I write over the next few weeks. Besides the warm embrace and comfort that comes from being surrounded by close to 600 women (honestly, were there a dozen men there? To say that is a stretch), I gained raw, unfiltered clarity. I know that I know the direction I’m headed. The bold life that God wants me to lead. He’s set me up for it. I choose to walk on that path. And I think it will look different, but I will choose embrace what’s to come even if it makes me uncomfortable.

Clarity isn’t a departure from who I am, it’s finding my true authentic self and letting that girl out to play. Brave Magic may not have been what I anticipated, but it was exactly what I need.

What squeaks can tell you

Squeaky meMy foot squeaks. I noticed it, not for the first time, yesterday in a Tai Chi class. Lest you think I’m a regular on the Tai Chi front, let me preface. I’m currently at a workshop at 1140 Multiversity, which is, to put it mildly, transforming! As part of the weekend, there is also a vast assortment meditation, yoga, tai chi, sound healing, dance…I could go on… available. Why would I want to miss any of that? I’m up for trying new things and Tai Chi has been something I’d been curious about.

The studios at 1440 are beautifully designed with clean wood floors and an inviting atmosphere. They are also quiet. Extremely quiet. The campus is in the middle of the woods outside of Santa Cruz. After lunch I headed to the class with a stranger – no longer a stranger – who I’d become friends with in one of the morning sessions. As we started class, I heard it. The rubber of my prosthetic foot squeaking against the floor.

Awesome.

If I’m honest, I don’t know that anyone else heard it. But I did. Louder than ever. It’s one of the hazards of having a foot that is constructed of fiberglass and rubber. It squeaks every time I walk right now because the foot shell rubs against the main part of the leg.

When it started squeaking in class yesterday, I felt a familiar rise of heat in my chest. Embarrassment. I could blame it on being a hot flash, but I’m pretty sure it was that feeling of being an oddity, of standing out, of unwanted attention being drawn to me.

If you were to ask me about my leg today, my first response would likely be that “it’s no big deal.” Well, that’s partially true. It is a big deal in that I work diligently for it to not be. I don’t want to draw attention to it. Squeaking goes against that.  For a few years in school, with kids I’d known my whole life, I tried embracing the “uniqueness” it created in me. I would use it as a prop. Apparently, my strategy was to use laughter to deflect from how I was feeling. Let’s remember, it was high school. Is there anyone who didn’t feel awkward during that time?

We had an hour bus ride and a driver who loved to tell us to keep our feet out of the aisle. One day, we took my foot off and put it in the aisle. It stands by itself, and there it was, standing in the aisle. We saw him look in the mirror and then look away, he had nothing to say. Well, probably in his mind he mumbled something like, “Damn kids…” As an adult I can say, yep, that sounds about right. We got a great laugh out of that one. I let a friend I’d gone to high school with and then college take one of the old ones and keep it in his dorm window – maybe that was in the leg lamp era. High school is so difficult, I could offer all kinds of hypothesis on why we used the leg for our amusement.

I’m a lot of years past that now. And it’s no longer a prop. The unwanted attention from having something that is “less than” causes a sense of shame. That’s where that heat rises from. And although it comes up frequently, I have chosen, and will continue to choose, to keep plowing ahead. That’s the thing about any challenge in our life, we may feel shame or less than, but we can change our narrative.

I’ve chosen to bring the challenge along for the ride. To hear the squeak in the silence and do it anyways. I wrestle with the feelings, but I also know that every single one of us has a thing. A quality or aspect of themselves that they wish was different. It’s a collective struggle. Remember that. I know that to the degree I’ve struggled, the person sitting next to me has too. I believe that makes us relatable. And when we admit and embrace the challenges together, we’re stronger.

The class I’m in at 1440 is Brave Magic with Elizabeth Gilbert and Cheryl Strayed. There have been a million moments of wisdom during this weekend, but one that speaks to me in this moment is about fear. Whether we like it or not, fear is always with us, but we don’t have to let it drive. We can choose to fight it or choose to be curious about it and understand that it’s part of us but keep going anyways. That’s been my choice. My foot is “no big deal,” but it is a big deal, it’s that I choose to keep going. To manage that fear of being different.  I’m not letting the fear drive.

It would be inauthentic to say fear isn’t part of my equation or yours, I suspect. How can you look at it differently today? Get curious about what it’s trying to tell you. Everyone of us can be brave and do it, whatever it is, anyways. What do you need to thank fear for showing you? After you thank fear…keep going. You are brave.

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.

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.

 

 

Lean into what brings you joy

What brings you joyI make cards for my husband. I started writing the cards when we were courting – moving towards reconciling our marriage. I write a little bit of what’s on my heart each day and then when the card is full, I leave them lying on our shared desk for him. The first few times, I bought cards. But then I thought I’d try something new and started painting them. Let’s be clear though, I am an accidental artist.

You see, Pinterest is my muse. I see something I want to try, usually I’m not even sure I can do it. But I know I can give it a college try. Now I make cards for him, for birthdays, for the office, and the pure act of creating brings me joy, especially when it’s for someone else.

I started to figure out along the way that joy was possible this way. I’d start a creative project and completely lose track of time. It was a little like meditation. My mind would focus on what was in front of me, nothing else. I can remember other creative projects I’ve tried in the past – short lived – thankfully there are no photos, but I was all in.

That’s how it is with writing. The other day I was wrapping up an online class I too, Daring Leader, through Brene Brown. Great class (don’t go looking for it though – she’s taken it down and created new content to coincide with her new book coming out in October – Dare to Lead) and as part of the final assessment I had to provide essay answers to a few questions demonstrating that I’d actually learned something and not just phoned it in. Because the course content is within my sweet spot, inner work for outer results, I became immersed and lost track of time.  It brought me joy.

While I’m loving exploring my creative side, it’s not without a little angst. The voice in my head still tells me I should be doing something. Painting, writing, those passions are mentally active, but not out and about active. Until the last couple of years, physically active was imbedded in my definition of doing something.

When I was about 40, I had started cycling and was training for my first century ride. I met a group of amazing cyclists and quickly got pulled into their orbit. The next few years I spent every free moment cycling. It was my social life, my exercise, and it got me outside, which I loved. We travelled by bike, rode to places in California I’d never seen even though I lived here my entire life. We competed in ridiculously long rides and along the way I met even more kind, generous hearted people. I looked forward to those events because of the accomplishment at hand as well as the camaraderie. They were my people.

Now?  My bike is hanging in my garage. I haven’t been on it in over a year. And I beat myself up about it for the first six months. It had been a big part of my life and when I’d go out for a ride, I was doing something.

What I’ve wrestled with is letting go of my own definition of doing. I believe the feeling that I need to be actively, i.e. physically, doing something at every minute of the day was someone else’s definition. It’s normal to adopt the definitions about life from those we spend time with. Letting go has been hard. I’ve had to push back on my internal, not so friendly dialogue. It’s a healthy process for anyone to go through, particularly at this phase of life. I’ve had reasons I stopped cycling, but it wasn’t easy. And I still long for that camaraderie. But challenging my thoughts about why I should do it was a healthy process.

I believe each of us would benefit from taking time to reflect on life and look at what truly brings you joy. What are you doing that makes you lose track of time? What are you involved in that you continue because it’s what you’re programmed to do? Programmed by someone else.

I am creative, it brings me joy and is an area I plan to expand, using it to connect with and help others. I think the two will go hand in hand. That’s the intention I’ve set, living out my authentic self. I’d encourage you to take a minute today and think about the patterns of your life. What are you doing that brings you joy? What are you doing that fits someone else’s definition of what it means to play, or work, or rest? Wrestle with how your authentic self would look at those areas. What would it take to be truer to the call of your heart. Today, be brave and take a step towards your true self.

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.

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!

Check in with your values

Values light the wayFor a couple of years, I’ve been on a quest of sorts – what do I want to do with the second half of my life. It’s a feeling that rolls around inside me and it led to becoming a certified professional coach over a year ago. At that point, I felt a tremendous pressure to launch into full time coaching.

But I didn’t. And by not taking that step, I was sure I was a failure.

The expectations to launch a coaching career had been projected on me through training were ones I owned and I was sure I was a failure as a person for not following through. Enter shame, which I’ve talked about before.

Tailspin, questioning, contemplating…all led to a season in my day job where I decided I wasn’t happy and was searching. For what I wasn’t sure. Not for another job. Never mind that I’ve been in my field creeping up on 30 years. Or, maybe that was why I was searching. But then, I leveled out. A shift at work, different responsibilities, the intent that it would pivot in a direction where I could use coaching more. In human resources, there’s a fairly high likelihood of that.

We’re now about a year out from that point. And it’s creeping up on me again. That desire to coach more. Yes, I’ve used the skills in the course of my job, honestly, I’ve used it in my personal life too. But there’s still something missing. Thus far, I’ve spent time thinking about how I could launch out on my own, coach full time. Write, be creative, help women create peace in their lives.

The more I thought about it the more unclear I became. I was looking for that bright light idea. It hit me as I was brainstorming ways I could switch up my work life. What I realized is that I may not want to coach full time, and I find joy in some of the elements of the job I have. My job is stressful. News alert…So is any job. But there are many fulfilling aspects of what I do.

What I want is…time.

The more I thought about it, what I realized is that my values are out of alignment from the way I’m currently living my life. That happens sometimes, and it can sneak up on you. Over the last year or so I’ve focused on living authentically. Moving past others’ expectations to living for who I am, for how I’m wired. Values that are important to me include: Connecting to others; Creativity; Flexibility; Family; Integrity – Authenticity. When I make decisions based on my values, I find peace.

Here’s an example of living out one of my values, family. I live across the country from a many people in my immediate family. They are important to me and we truly enjoy spending time together. Last weekend, my cousin had a baby shower in Orlando…a short 3,000 miles from me. There have been many times when I would have missed it…too far. But I decided I’d done that too many times and I’m going to start being there for family occasions. So, I did. I took a couple days off work and traversed the country to Orlando, where, I have to say, it was as hot as the middle of a rain forest. Seriously. Humidity is no joke. But worth every sweat drop.

When I looked at my values in relation to my work, I realized I was out of alignment with my value of flexibility and connecting to others. I do connect to people at work, but not at the level I desire. That deep interpersonal level where the magic happens. And as much as I’d like to think otherwise, it’s not overly flexible. The challenge with that has been the integrity value. I’m not going to be flakey about work so that I can pursue flexibility. It doesn’t work like that.

What has come of this realization, that I’m out of alignment, is a search for how I can create flexibility. And for that, there are options. The answer hasn’t quite presented itself yet, but I have clarity about where I’m headed.

I’ve told you all this because I know I’m not alone. How often have you felt disconnect with an aspect of your life but are not sure why? Looking at your values will shine a light into what’s really happening. Even if you’re not out of alignment, take a minute to check in with your values, top 5. On a 1-10 scale, how would you say you’re doing? Pick one and decide, today, to take a step that leads you closer to it. It’s back to being brave, living authentically. Shining your light on others from a place of strength.

You got this.

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.