Tag: brene brown

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Who can you trust?

Life, as life does, has presented me with significant decision points this week. My personal decision-making process is best summed up as, I’m a waffler. Driven by a desire to maintain an inner peace, I don’t always trust that I’ll make the right call. But if you can’t trust yourself, who can you trust?

How we learn to trust

We come into the world helpless. Completely dependent upon our parents to keep us alive, to care for us. Without cognitively knowing why, or even that we’re doing it, we place our utmost trust in the two people who brought us into the world. Two people, who (speaking as a parent myself) know no more about keeping a baby alive than they did 24 hours before we were born. My own parents were young when I entered the world and instinct, informed by the model of their own parents, guided their caregiving. I’m still alive, so whatever they did worked.

As we gain our own personalities and sense of self, we continue to trust our parents, our elders. In fact, we’re taught to trust those in authority without question. I swallowed that pill effortlessly. Subconsciously, it may have been easier to defer decision making than to make the wrong one. You can keep the peace (yep…back to the Enneagram 9) when you’re compliant.

Gender Norms

I’ve lately been paying attention to the ways society conditions women to defer to men in decision making. To trust men without question. Particularly when it comes to financial decision making. In traditional marriages, women are taught to ‘let their husband lead.’ I confess that I was on that bandwagon, but how does it play out in real life? Differently, depending on the relationship. Suffice it to say, I jumped off on a sharp turn and dumped out my Kool-Aid.

What I’ve noticed is that women, myself included, don’t trust themselves to the same degree as men. Women gain consensus, men, speaking generally, believe in the validity of their experience as truth. Without conscious effort, these actions are a self-fulfilling prophecy for women because the more we defer, the less we trust our own decision making.

Breaking the mold

Without question, I know I continue to defer decision making. Arriving at my own conclusion, but first crowd surfing it to ensure I’m not alone in my thought process. Decisions by consensus. Oddly, it’s not a pattern I follow at work where I’m consulted in decision making daily and regularly make the call. My personal life does not fare as well. Getting to the bottom of that has been a quest.

Why is it that children, and for the sake of this post, girls, are not taught to trust themselves? To have confidence in their decisions and see them through, whether positive or not. Society continues, and to be fair, rightly so in certain circumstances, to have children defer decision making. We don’t talk them through learning to trust their own instinct and the confidence than ensues. And we’re not teaching our children that failing is not the end of the world and doing so doesn’t mean they can’t trust themselves.

As someone who has lived more than half my life with fear in the passenger seat, I’m an advocate for teaching children, especially girls, to trust themselves. To speak up and let their voices be heard. I’ve allowed the fear of making a mistake, of disappointing others inhabit my head and color my decisions. I’ve taking the safe path, which has been no path at all on occasion. Perhaps you’ve felt the same. Brené Brown sums up the feeling I’ve arrived at about this time in life:

Midlife is not a crisis. … Midlife is when the universe gently places her hands upon your shoulders, pulls you close, and whispers in your ear: I’m not screwing around.

Brené speaks about midlife, but in the context of my subject today, trusting yourself, if I don’t start believing in myself now, when will I? When will you? For me, I’ve asked the question often enough that the still, small voice inside me has whispered “You can trust yourself.”

Trusting yourself

Trusting yourself doesn’t mean you have all the answers, it means you trust that you make decisions that are in your best interest. That you seek guidance when appropriate, that you have your own back. It’s a muscle we must build through practice and reprogramming our minds. It’s daring to believe in yourself. You’ll make mistakes, we all will, that’s normal. But when faced with the question of who you can trust, the answer is you. I believe in you, and I believe in me. Be brave friends. Lisa

 

 

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Why live your life with a daring spirit?

Remarkable as it may seem, we’ve arrived in January. As I scrolled through my social media feed, the range of ‘resolutions,’ was endless. Lose weight, exercise, learn to speak Russian…maybe I made that one up, but a wide array of actions designed to improve upon the current state. I was not among those making resolutions as I’ve chosen instead to pick a word for the year the last few years. My word serves as a guidepost for behavior throughout the year. You may have seen the preview last month of 2021’s pick, daring. Why? My internal voice was telling me, “live your life with a daring spirit.”

Why choose daring?

There are literally thousands of words I could have chosen, millions even. But in November, daring knocked at the door of my mind. I often think about one of my Dad’s go to sayings, “Life is not a dress rehearsal.” Yet, I’ve lived much of mine as though it were. With a mindset that once I’d done the thing, whatever that thing was, I’d be happy, content, filled with joy. Often that thing revolved around my weight, but also to do with my career, or a relationship – or lack thereof. Right around the corner, life was going to be all I hoped it would be. But the truth is, that’s not how it works.

Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?

Mary Oliver – The Summer Day

Live for today

Nope, it’s not how it works at all. New Year’s Resolutions date back to 4000 B.C. and the ancient Babylonians. They began as offerings to pagan gods and continued to the modern era with the overriding theme being to ‘do better’ in an area of life. As many as 45% of Americans make resolutions with only 8% maintaining them. That’s a dismal statistic.

Because, there’s nothing magical about January 1st. Julius Caesar may have thought so in making sacrifices to the god Janus, but it’s merely a day. I stopped making resolutions for reasons I honestly can’t recall. The idea of a word was appealing, and I stuck with it. But why choose to live my life with a daring spirit?

Because every day is a January 1st. We start over every single day. Brené Brown writes about the concept of postponing joy. Postponing joy is a form of living like you’re in dress rehearsal. Which we’re not. I’ve spent years of my life waiting for ‘the things’ to line up so that I can be truly happy. But as much as we want that magical day to come, it never does.

Living a daring life

And all that is good and well, but it still doesn’t explain daring. After reading Brené for several years now, I can see that I’ve lived in a safety bubble. Armored up and protected from risk and danger. Except you know what? That’s where joy is. In The Gifts of Imperfection, Brown writes, “We cannot selectively numb emotions, if we numb the painful emotions, we also numb the positive ones.” I’ve numbed my share of painful emotions and I can assure you, that doesn’t make you happy all the time, it makes you numb.

Life with a daring spirit means you’re going to get your heart crushed. Damn. But life with a daring spirit also means that while you’re going to be vulnerable, and the pain will still be there, so will the joy. You cannot get to joy without going through suffering. If you did, you wouldn’t know joy when you experienced it. There would be nothing to compare it to.

Living life with a daring spirit leads to risk, to vulnerability, to courage. And it may look like an ordinary day from the outside, but below the surface, those baby steps to live the one wild and precious life are one after the other. Daring is using your voice, speaking your truth, even when it might risk losing belonging. But, my friends, if we do not live life with a daring spirit, what do we have? Day after day of resolutions. Thumbs down to continuing that tradition. You, we, are perfectly made and as we’re supposed to be, as we are today. Let’s choose to live like we believe it. Be brave my loves. Lisa

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What is anger telling you?

I wasn’t sure what it was at first, the fire inside me that at first, I thought was anxiety. But, as much as I wanted to dismiss it, I didn’t. I’ve noticed it for a few months, a shorter temper, annoyance, at times feeling overwhelmed. Still, I couldn’t name the emotion I was having. After listening to a Brené Brown’s interview with Emily and Amelia Nagoski on her podcast, Unlocking Us, and subsequently buying the Nagoski’s book, I have a name for it. I am fired up, angry, pissed really. And for once, I’m not ignoring the anger. I’m listening to what anger is telling me.

Emily Nagoski, PhD and Amelia Nagoski, DMA collaborated to write the brilliant book, Burnout – The Secret to Unlocking the Stress Cycle. What jumped out and caused me to take stock of my own anger was a deep recognition of my own experiences within the pages. Likely because it was targeted for women. My anger was telling me to pay attention.

Anger doesn’t come naturally

As a tried and true Enneagram 9, I am usually not aware of my own anger. Though smack in the middle of the anger Triad, it stays deep inside me and as odd as that may seem to someone who finds it easily, quickly. I get…frustrated…snippy…but I wouldn’t normally call it anger. A friend once encouraged me to try yelling or screaming at full volume alone in my car. I did. I did not like it, not one little bit. Reading through the pages of Burnout, it was as though the factors that have played a role in shaping me were narrated so that I wouldn’t miss the message.

After finishing the book, I a) wanted to crush the patriarchy and creates an imbalanced system for women, and b) knew that I was angry. Still, what was the anger telling me?

What we’re experiencing

The truth is, women face different expectations than men. In fairness, men could say the same about their own gender. But while men have historically marched off to the office each day, women were expected to keep the kids, house and outside life in order. But for my generation, well, we’re the children of the 60’s whose mothers’ fought for our right to break the norm and work outside the house. Not all, but most women my age did take the career track.

Except, keeping the kids, house and outside life in order was still our job. It’s no wonder we’re burnout! And, if we’re honest, we’d say we’re resentful.

But by and large, we’re not honest about our resentment because, when we do, we’re accused of being unhinged. We must do all the things and do them with a smile on our face and remain happy and cheerful, supporting the rest of our family. As those pages opened before me, what got unlocked in me was anger. And it was telling me to pay attention.

Anger is a guide

The coaching program got my certification from uses what’s called an Energy Leadership Index. Comprised of seven levels of energy, the index ranges from catabolic energy such as apathy and anger to anabolic energy, connection with others and self-actualization, for example Since catabolic energy is destructive, it’s not healthy to remain at those levels for long periods of time. But, while anger is catabolic, it also speaks to us and is a catalyst for action.

Anger tells you what you’re passionate about. Makes sense since, it’s said, there’s a fine line between love and hate. So those areas where you find yourself angry (or frustrated for my Enneagram 9 comrades) pay attention. What is the anger telling you? What emotion is underneath it.

In my case, once I stopped ignoring my anger and started paying attention. When I did, it wasn’t surprising what I cared about, but the level to which I’d fight for it was unexpected.

I’m passionate about integrity. And while that’s not knew, for me it’s more than doing what I say I’ll do. It’s that, and it’s acting on it. If I say I believe in something, that means more than a bumper sticker. Which is scary because it can upset the apple cart, which this peacemaker is not a fan of. I’m passionate about family, my children, and my nuclear family. Passionate about supporting the LGBTQ+ community. About supporting the BIPOC community. Passionate about examining my faith and asking questions…knowing God isn’t going to disappear because have a different perspective than I once was.

What is your anger telling you?

Reading Burnout confirmed my passion to come alongside other women. The anger I feel is at the inequities we’ve faced and the false narrative we’ve listened to so that we keep the peace (I am not alone in that camp). We were told we’re the one causing a problem if we merely spoke up for ourselves, or, wanted to have a seat at the table…at our own dinner table at times. I have a passion to build up those women. My anger is telling me that it’s past time. Just as it’s past time for the BIPOC community or LGBTQ+ community to want a seat at the table.

When I finally acknowledged I had any anger at all? I word I’ll borrow from one of my favorite seasonal movies, The Holiday, I found gumption. Just as it’s explained in Energy leadership, anger is a catalyst for action. And finally…FINALLY…I’m listening.

As you finish reading, I want you to be still with yourself for a moment, breathing slowly, emptying your find. Ask yourself, what is your anger telling you? What passion is it pointing to? Now’s your opportunity to find your own gumption and follow the path. We’re in this together. Be Brave. Lisa (and, P.S. go buy the book!)

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Why is change so difficult?

In preparation for an upcoming series of articles my company plans to publish, I headed to the great encyclopedia of Google earlier this week. My business partner had shared the phrase, “Nothing is certain but change.” Our conversation centered around that idea and the question we continued returning to was, if nothing is certain but change, why is change so difficult for the vast majority of humans?

Change has been with us since the beginning

I wanted to get my hands on the origin of the concept of the certainty of change. I had to look way back to 500 BCE philosopher Heraclitus of Ephesus. Thank goodness someone had boiled down his philosophies so that I could understand them because it seems he has known as the dark philosopher… his writings were that difficult to understand. My eyes would have glazed, I’m quite confident of it, if I’d reviewed his original manuscripts. Beyond the fact that they were probably in Greek. Greek to me. (I couldn’t resist that one…low hanging fruit.) Heraclitus’ claims are summed up as:

Panta Rhei (“life is flux”) recognizing the essential, underlying essence of life as change. Nothing in life is permanent, nor can it be, because the very nature of existence is change. Change is not just a part of life in Heraclitus’ view, it is life itself.

We see Panta Rhei played out in the world around us. As I write, it’s late fall and my yard is covered with leaves. If I wait long enough, say, around March, the trees will again be covered with leaves and flowers. It happens around us every single day, this process. Yet, so often we’re resistant to change. Not surprisingly, there are underlying reasons why change is so difficult.

The devil you know

Consider a situation you continue returning to despite the fact it’s uncomfortable, or even painful. A job that you show up begrudgingly, day after day, because while you are miserable, it’s a familiar misery. Or the relationship you fight to maintain despite the fatal flaws you know are not going to heal. A habit you maintain because, without it, you feel unanchored and lost. That’s the root of it. We stay in a situation that’s unhealthy, or unproductive, or miserable for us because we know it. In junior high, we even wrote in yearbooks, “Don’t go changing.”

Think about it. At that job. You know what’s expected of you, how to perform successfully. Without the job, you’d be unanchored. Turns out, humans hate uncertainty, and change creates uncertainty. When we’re unanchored, or in a state of uncertainty, our brains trigger a threat response in our limbic system. Instead, when we find the answer, complete the equation, our brains are rewarded with hits of dopamine, that familiar, feel good, hormone. Brené Brown equates it to story, in that, our brains are wired for story. We look for the beginning, middle and end…certainty. When we don’t have one of the elements, we move to story…complete the cycle, get the hit. Usually, that story is the one we’re making up.

We want to know what’s going to happen next. And since life doesn’t always give us a roadmap, hence, change is so difficult.

We must choose to take the first step

Back to the job, the relationship, the habit… we know when something needs to be different. We do. If we’re listening to our guts, they speak to us plainly. But that first step is terrifying. We meet our friend uncertainty on that first step. Damn, not that guy again. Temptation to retreat to our safe existence is strong. So strong, if fact, often we do. Often, what you’re taking is the 470,256th first step. But, when you’re uncomfortable enough, you’ll keep trying.

And although change is difficult, once you take a step, you might find you keep moving forward. You can start to see the light in your situation. I’ve heard from dozens of people who’ve shared that they spent years in a job, or at a company they didn’t like. Too afraid to change, to lose what sense of certainty they had in that situation, because even negative certainty is certainty. But once they left, the feeling of “Why did I wait so long???” washed over their entire body.

It’s not easy, but worth it

I’ve shared snippets of a former relationship before wherein I was told, “You’ve changed,” and it wasn’t a “Yay you, awesome, you’ve changed.” Instead, it was an accusation. In fact, I had changed, because, we’re allowed. And the woman that was emerging as the change took hold was different. More assured, confident and willing to be in a space of uncertainty.

Liz Gilbert described a sensation that happens when we make a change that causes us to leave our former beliefs (amongst other things). The group, whether family, friends, colleagues, church, that you’ve been part of will fight against your change. They’ll use any means to draw you back into to the ‘safe’ place with them. You might hear comments such as, “you’re making some dangerous decisions,” or, “you’ll miss us,” or, “you are straying from the path.” You might even be told that you won’t survive outside the group. Liz calls that “tribal shaming,” and unfortunately, most of us have experienced it.

When do you feel that resistance, maybe from a person or group, in the form of tribal shaming, or other strategies, or the resistance within yourself the most? When you’re on the right path. Truly. So, when you feel that pull, keep going. Even when you’re afraid, keep going. Why is change so difficult? Because science. Because other people. But when you feel the pull to return to the old ways, in the immortal words of Dori, in Finding Nemo, “Just keep swimming.” You’re brave my friends. Keep swimming. Lisa

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What happens when you open your eyes

Unraveled, that’s what I thought as I glanced down at the hem of my shirt. For an unknown reason, my new shirt’s hem had decided to let go, unraveling and leaving string hanging for me to see as evidence. And I thought about how that fray may have been present when I bought the shirt, but I hadn’t noticed. What happened when I opened my eyes was that not only was it frayed, any attempt to break the string without scissors resulted in rapid unraveling. Leaving a raw hem for me to contemplate…determining if I liked the shirt enough to fix it. Because that’s how I roll.

Unraveling in life

The journey from A to Z is rarely, if ever, straight and with certainty I’m sure I’ve taken the most complex path. But over the last four or so years, the pace at which life clicks into place has been rapid, like the unraveling of a hem. In the moment, it doesn’t seem that fast because of the labor pains it takes to get there, but there’s no other way to describe it. When I opened my eyes to what was happening around me, I couldn’t help but see.

Once you see though, you can’t unsee. And it unravels faster than you imagined. The realization that I’d made choice, gone down a path personally that I believed I needed to walk (and honestly, I may have needed those steps) led me to a stalemate was unexpected. And at the same time, the awareness I’d gained about my experience was the result of having my eyes opened. Resulting from clarity around the fuzziness I’d had for years. But as we’re becoming clear, there’s no guarantee those on the journey with us are doing the same. Or better yet, no guarantee that their clarity is the same as yours.

Making daring choices

It seems to me that when your eyes are opened – to whatever the circumstance is in your life that you’d turned a blind eye to – you can’t unwind it. In those moments, you might find that what you believed to be true was only in your mind. And that’s heartbreaking. But if you remain engaged in what you’re noticing, you might find heartbreak is a catalyst.

When you open your eyes, you might not find what you thought would be there. In those moments, you make decisions. Choose to be daring or choose to retreat. I chose daring. And while we’d like to think that we’ll emerge from daring choices with newfound energy and zeal, that’s not always true. You might emerge with your heart in tatters, or your system of beliefs on shaky ground.

Daring to be in the wilderness

And you know what? That’s ok. It is. When you make daring decisions in your life and the result is time in the wilderness, that’s ok. You know who else spent time in the wilderness? Jesus. It could be that the wilderness is where you needed to go to find yourself. To find your own power. To ask yourself what is true…for you. I know that when I’m in the wilderness, I’m never alone. Because I’m there with myself, and I know Jesus is alongside me.

Those daring choices bring you back from the wilderness too. The wrestling you did while you were out there, that only strengthens you. It sparks your inner fire to continue exploring what is true for you. Your eyes are opened in the wilderness.   You find your true self, free from expectations others layer on you. You find freedom.

And you find that you can breathe. Fully in and fully out, without wondering when the other shoe will drop. It already has. I know it had for me. And now, my eyes are opened, and the unravelling, what I thought would end, it hasn’t. There’s so much more I see which I accepted as true and now I find myself wondering why. So it goes when you’re being daring. You lose parts of yourself but find the ones you were always supposed to have.

Where are you finding your eyes opening? Is it leading you to the wilderness? Hey, that’s ok, necessary maybe. But this is a journey we’re taking together. I’m brave, you’re brave – stronger together. Lisa

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Living a daring life

Four days a week you can find me happily cruising back and forth in a pool lane at my gym. It’s a little trickier now because you must reserve lanes given the social distancing restrictions. 100% worth it because water is my happy place. But the other day. Boy oh boy…it was a hotbed of drama. I’d spent time before I headed over journaling and pondering my word for 2021. It landed in my lap really. I’ll be focused on living a daring life.

Everyday opportunities to be daring

With that fresh in my mind, I was presented with the opportunity to be daring that morning. To be clear, as I unfold what it means to me to be daring, the dimensions will expand. I’m rooted in Daring Greatly by Brené Brown, but not that day. My swim pals and I had reserved our lanes days before and were 30 minutes into our swim. When I paused at the wall, a guy informed me that I was in his lane and I needed to get out. I explained I’d signed up for it and he said he’d already checked with the front and I was wrong. Confused, I looked at my friends and we adjusted, shifting so we could share two lanes. He was in the pool maybe 15 minutes and then got out.

When we finished our hour-long swim, we fumed over the situation and I reiterated that I’d reserved the lane. They agreed, after all, we’d done it together. In those moments, I realized that I hadn’t been daring at all! I didn’t stick up for myself, presuming I was in the wrong and, classic Enneagram 9, didn’t want a fuss, and acquiesced. As I left the gym, I asked the attendant up front, and the guy did not have the lane and hadn’t even checked. He lied to me. Honestly, it was gaslighting, making me question my own memory. And still, I was not daring.

Wake up to your life

As plain as day this situation showed me that I had missed an opportunity to be daring. But isn’t that always the way? We have clarity in hindsight. Being daring would have been saying he was wrong, and swimming away. Oh wait, excuse me for a minute while I untie the knot in my stomach. Not even kidding. Does anyone else have that response to personal confrontation? Anyone?

My limbic system, my body, genuinely feels the emotion resulting from the thought of being confrontational. And for those of you who identify, how are we to live daring lives when we can’t hold our ground? Being daring requires that we’re awake to our lives. That we listen to our bodies and hearts and are vulnerable in pursuing our desires. It could look like telling someone close to you that their behavior makes you uncomfortable. Or telling someone that you love them first. Saying no to a family member’s request, without giving a reason. One way that we’re living a daring life is speaking up for ourselves, and that takes vulnerability.

It always comes back to vulnerability

And here we are back with our friend vulnerability (said no one ever). Vulnerability, according to Brené Brown, is uncertainty, risk, and emotional exposure. All of which the situation with Mr. Pool Liar presented to me. Even with someone I didn’t know, I wasn’t vulnerable. But you know what? That blatant reminder slapped me across the face. Really. It reminded me to be daring. Reminded me that it’s ok if someone else is upset with me – which is a mountain sized risk to an Enneagram 9. But it’s ok.

To be clear, scheme of things, the pool scenario was no big deal. But at the same time, it was. It reminded me I can stand up for myself. Even though I didn’t do it in the moment. And I’d ask you, where are you missing opportunities to be vulnerable? To be daring with your life? What would be different if you chose to be daring, more often, to the point where you are living a daring life? It’s becoming my journey and I hope you’ll come along with me. Be Brave friends, it’s our one and only life. Lisa

 

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Why empathy is essential to daring

Being a Brené Brown groupie, I read, listen and peruse all the things she releases to the world. On her new Spotify podcast, Dare to Lead, the conversations with business leaders are rich and full of nuggets. This week’s conversation with Guy Raz was no exception. Guy hosts the popular show, How I Built This, on NPR,  amongst other accomplishments. Much of the conversation centered around the qualities of an accomplished leader, a central tenant of which was empathy. Given that Brené herself preaches at length about the power of empathy, my ears perked up to hear what was coming. In a nutshell, empathy is essential to daring leadership.

The idea kept rolling around in my head

As is typically the case, once an idea grabs me, I roll it around like playdough in my head and, just like playdough, as it travels, it picks up bits and pieces of interactions I’ve had throughout the week. One of which was with one of my best friends. We have an ongoing, what I’d call argument and she would probably say a mild conversation, around diversity.

In truth, at the core of it, we agree, but our approach varies. She desires to treat each person as an individual, without race or sex, for example, being the central issue. If people would engage from that standpoint, they’d learn about the person, their experiences, or hardships. In premise, I don’t disagree, in fact as I write this, I wonder why we have arguments. But after a conversation the other day, I sent a text, because I think better in writing.

I think what I was getting to in my long narrative is that we each have unique experiences and I want to make sure that I recognize the unique experience someone else may have because of their color, or because what they believe, or their sexual orientation…I want to understand their experience and understand that mine may be different and not make assumptions that they would have gone down the same path as me because they are different. Not that they couldn’t have gone down that path, but to not assume they’ve experienced life as I have.

(Miraculously, Siri translated that text accurately. Soooo, the run on sentences are on her.)

When I listened to Brené and Guy, my brain clicked, I want to engage with empathy.

Empathy as a way of life

Honestly, my friend has oodles of empathy, I experience it with her all the time. What I’ve learned about myself though is that I’m an Empath. I can’t turn it off. I feel emotions in my body, like physical blows. Those of myself and others. It’s one of the reasons conflict is difficult for me. But this year, I’ve felt a heightened sense of connection to others, even amid a global pandemic. Connected to their emotions, which I also feel. So, when it comes to social justice issue, its empathy compelling me to stand in the gap, to stand alongside people, because I desire to understand their experience and sit in the feelings with them. And they may be hard feelings, but important.

And as the playdough of my mind continued to roll around, I extrapolated the comments about empathy in leadership to empathy as a way of living with other humans. What if we were curious about each other’s experience and strove to come alongside instead of peer over the edge at someone’s suffering? Brené’s The Power of Empathy short demonstrates empathy vs. sympathy. I’d encourage you to check it out. I wonder, what if empathy is essential to a daring life?

Lead with empathy

No better way exists to determine if empathy is essential to a daring life than to live it. And I intend to. But… like you, I’m a human person and experience other feelings that occasionally cloud my view, making empathy take a back seat. If it does, we can come back to it. You see how I did that?? I’m suggesting that we endeavor to exercise empathy throughout our daring lives. I’m convinced it’ll lead to richer, deeper and more engaged relationships, which we all crave. I know we can do it my friends. We’re brave. Sending love. Lisa

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A better way to experience the let-down

The fall season often brings back memories of a bike race I’ve done a couple of times, which is now defunct. The Furnace Creek 508 started in Santa Clarita, California and ended in Twentynine Palms, in the eastern Sierra desert. As the name denotes, you travel through Furnace Creek in Death Valley, California, on your way to the finish. It’s what is called a ‘total time’ race meaning all the time spent cycling, eating, resting, visiting nature, was included. The first time around I was on a tandem team of 4 bikes, 8 riders. The second? A two-woman team. Needless to say, the preparation for a 508-mile race, whether you have to ride the entire distance or not, is extensive. And so when it was over, around 28 ½ hours later both times, a gaping hole existed in my schedule. In hindsight, I can see what I experienced was the let-down. And it makes me think. There must be a better way to experience the let-down.

The calm after the storm

We’ve all felt it, the stillness that follows a long-awaited event is a chasm.  To be clear, I’m not talking about the let-down of disappointment. An empty space we’re not quite sure how to fill. You may have felt it after finishing college. I can still remember walking out of my final exam on the U.C. Davis campus in March 1989. Done. But then what? It’s exactly those moments that cause us doubt, or questioning…wondering if something is wrong.

The calm after the storm is the let-down. It’s the exhale that comes at the end of finishing the race, college or a hard-fought goal. Racing to finish a project, killing it, and then having too much time on your hands. The let-down, the emptiness that defines it, can easily feel like depression. I can’t help but wonder if we’re all barreling towards a collective let-down once we start to ease back into our everyday life. We’ve been holding our breath, existing in a sea of anxiety, for nearly all of 2020.

How else could we look at it?

But I think it doesn’t have to be a let-down. What if, instead, we find that we’ve evolved through our experience? You, mom or dad who has a day job, started home schooling your children. You learned Zoom, more importantly, you learned how to mute on Zoom. Your house has never been more organized and you did not know that you had the capacity to bake so.much.bread. You began to enjoy a slower pace, time with your children. Your pets most certainly have enjoyed having you at home. You may have gotten to know yourself that much better because you had the time. And time is a scarce commodity.

I chose Wholehearted as my 2020 word for the year and have spent the past ten months going through Brené Brown’s Guideposts for Wholehearted Living. But there are ten versus the twelve months this year. So now what? I wondered if I’d teeter towards a let-down, but instead, I considered what else could be happening.

We’re shifting

While I’d like to say we’re in a state of perpetual motion, that’s not quite true. Perpetual motion is the motion of bodies that continues forever. Apparently, that violates a couple laws of thermodynamics, who knew? But what is true are Newton’s laws of motion. While the first states that something in motion will continue in a straight line unless it is compelled to change that state by forces impressed on it.

Could it be that many of us were all in a straight line and the forces of 2020 have changed us?  Or that 2020 was a force that further changed us (because many of us were already shifting)? Let’s suppose that’s true. When life as we know it gets closer to life as we knew it pre-2020, we might feel the let-down, the loosing of the death grip we have on life. But even if we do, we can shift the way we think about it. Consider how much progress you’ve made this year, in unexpected areas. The relationships that have changed. The talents you’ve developed and want to hold on to. We often don’t see those changes because we’re in the middle of it. But I’d suggest if you write down where you were at the end of the year and now, there would be a vast difference in what’s important to you.

And so, being different that I was at the beginning of the year despite or because of the turn of events, I am more at home in myself. I’m on the Wholehearted journey, and yours’ is entirely different because it’s yours alone. But if you become tempted to give in to that feeling of let-down, reflect on what’s in motion and how far you’ve travelled. Be brave my friends.  Lisa

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We CAN let go of cool and always in control

Brené Brown’s Wholehearted Living Guideposts lay out markers along a path leading to the cultivation of being your authentic, wholehearted self. But what does wholehearted signify? I believe it’s different for each of us and throughout the year, focusing on a different guidepost each month, I’ve arrived at my own definition. Wholehearted living is coming back to who you are at your core, independent of other people’s opinions, judgements, or expectations. And wholehearted is most decidedly not cool and always in control.

What other people think is in our way

Why do we care about what other people think? Where to start? Belonging comes to mind, acceptance, feeling that we ‘fit in.’ We have an innate desire to be seen and known by others. Unfortunately, that can lead to twisting ourselves up like a pretzel in an effort to be one of ‘the club.’ We remain in control of ourselves partly to ensure our acceptance in this elusive club, because, we surmise, if people knew who we ‘actually’ were at our core, they would kick us to the curb, alone.

And nobody wants to feel they’re alone.

But, as Brené Brown writes in Braving the Wilderness, do we truly belong when we’re shape shifting to remain there (paraphrased)? If the space where we desire to belong requires that we stay buttoned up to meet other people’s expectations, or to stay in their good graces, are they really our people? If we’re spending our time working to ‘fit in,’ chances are, they’re not. In which case, our own growth as a wholehearted person is being stunted.

We desire security

One of the reasons we strive to be in control is other people and staying in ‘the club’. But within that space, we often find those crazy, unstructured people who enjoy accusing us of being ‘control freaks.’ If they understood our ‘why’ they may show a bit more compassion. And I say this as one who has been accused on more than one occasion of being a bit controlling. Truth is, I don’t care about controlling other people. Really.

What I care about is controlling what’s happening around me. Being in the club provides security, but so does being able to predict what’s going on around me. So, do I like an organized, structured life? I do. Unequivocally. Security is one of the basic needs Maslow describes and when life around me becomes chaotic, my own sense of security declines. It might seem as though those of us who desire security in our surroundings are control freaks and if that’s the case, I am not sorry.

Wholehearted is not control

If we could architect our way to wholehearted living, it wouldn’t be a journey. But it is. And despite the lingering relapses into control I, for one, have chosen the journey. Which requires letting go of always being in control. Dammit.

I was recently reminded of what it feels like to not be cool and in control while visiting my 16-week-old niece. Do you know who is in control in her house? She is. Structure around her schedule and what she needs. I willingly submit. And what I noticed is that when I was with her, I had zero desire to be in control, or to be cool. She does not care if I’m cool. So funny faces, giggling with her, letting her kick and splash in the tub while I get wet…I’m in, 100%. With a surprising side effect…laughter, song, and dance. A feeling of being free. Understandably, if you’re the parent, it’s different, but as the Aunt? Fantastic.

So perhaps feeling wholehearted is reminding myself of that feeling. Replicating it once I’m back to my day to day. If each of us determined that we are no longer going to remain calm and in control, instead opting for wholehearted, it’s possible the nature of the club would change. And if not, maybe they’re not our club. The people with whom we don’t feel we need to remain calm and in control, now that’s our club, and it does feel like the wilderness at times. Are you up for braving the wilderness to have more laughter, song and dance in your life? I am. Be brave, friends. We’re in the same club. Lisa

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Why it’s hard to let go of calm, cool and in control

Have you ever been ‘spaz’ shamed? Let me break it down for you. You…normally calm, cool and in control happens to let loose and get downright silly. An occurrence that happens rarely, and I mean rarely. And as you’re just about to get to your finest groove, your spouse (or child, or parent, or friend) says, “Geez, calm down already.” Talk about shutting.it.down. It might as well be a pin to a balloon. And then they wonder why you are most always calm, cool and in control.

I am that person. The calm one. In control all the time. Because if you’re not in control, absolute mayhem could break out at any moment. Literally, it could happen. So, when someone wired like me lets loose and dances in the kitchen, or breaks out laughing hysterically and is told to calm down? It stings like a jellyfish. And if you’ve never been stung by a jellyfish, yay you. It is MOST unpleasant. Needless to say, once stung, it’ll be a good long time before I muster up the nerve to let loose again.

Laughter is the best medicine

As the serious one in the room, days can pass without any laughter escaping my lips. And while I’d like to change that, it’s the straight up truth. It’s an actual medical fact that laughter is good medicine. The Mayo Clinic and 66,200,000 Google results will tell you so. Laughing stimulates your organs, your lungs, it activates positive hormones in your body and reduces stress.

I know this, and in fact believe myself to be a doctor some days. Yet, I persist in my serious outer demeanor. Calm, cool and in control. But lying below the surface is a silly girl who genuinely wants to play.

Danger Will Robinson

I do, I want to play. But once you’ve been serious for so long, it’s not a matter of flipping a switch. I lived through a period in my life that was incredibly hard. So much so that I became hypervigilant to the possibility that a negative downturn could happen at any moment. In this situation, my fight or flight hormones were continuously activated. Which served as a protective mechanism at the time. But now? I don’t need to be on alert anymore, but my brain hasn’t gotten the message yet. This is the case with a person who undergoes long term stress, or trauma.

The good news, according to neuroscience and this article, is that our brains are ‘plastic,’ meaning that they’re adaptable. They can be altered to respond differently. 2020 hasn’t exactly helped any of us who are vigilant. Carefully guarding ourselves in our homes, our limbic systems are in overdrive because of a potentially deadly virus. But we can make choices to change our thinking. I can make choices to rewire my thinking.

Wholehearted Living Guidepost #10

Cultivating Laughter, Song and Dance

Letting go of cool and always in control

Letting go of always in control

And while I’m serious with good reason, I know that I can let go of the reigns – if only a tad. This year of Wholehearted Living calls for it. My experiences reinforced a proclivity to being serious and any of us who are wired similarly can make a choice to rewire our main circuit board. Letting go of cool, calm and in control? It’s one thousand percent worth it. Being the grown up all the time is exhausting. So, when your normally serious friend, aka, me, starts laughing over nothing in particular? Don’t shame her. Or when you walk into the kitchen and find your reserved mother dancing? Don’t shame her. Ever.

Don’t shame her for being serious, and certainly don’t shame her for letting loose. Because only you have lived in your body. Lived your life. Been at the other end of whatever it is that you’ve experienced. Only you. And sister…if you want to cut a rug in the middle of the CVS…I say, ‘go for it.’ If I see you, I’ll stand 6 feet away with my mask on and join in. It feels brave to let ourselves go because it is. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. I’m with you my loves. Be Brave. Lisa