Tag: brene brown

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What makes a leader?

LeadershipIt can be a bit nebulous, leadership. People often assume the title based on a role they hold. A position they’ve aspired to. The pinnacle of a career – leader of people and their charting their own course. Yet, a title alone, a position, is nothing more than that. Being named a leader doesn’t automatically bestow upon you some magical fairy dust where people fall in line behind you. A leader is infinitely more than that.

I’m fairly certain that those who study birth order characteristics find leadership qualities in firstborns. Often, they naturally rise and take charge of situations within the sibling ranks. They create the rules, the systems, the natural order of life among their family and peers. Once in school, they might rise and do the same, taking on leadership roles within the student ranks. Once we leave the cocoon of our nuclear families and school, it’s a whole other ballgame.

While firstborns might naturally be drawn to leader roles, they don’t hold the exclusive rights to it. Traditionally, as anyone grows in their career they grow in terms of power which likely translates to having direct reports. You can watch any old TV show and see examples of a “boss.” I think of Lou on the Mary Tyler Moore show, Captain Steubing on the Love Boat, or how about recent example, Miranda Bailey, the Chief on Grey’s Anatomy. All were in a position of authority and operated as a “boss” to one degree or another.

What the traditional or television versions of a “boss” don’t convey is what it truly takes to lead people.  A “boss” likely has more the mindset of managing rather than leading. I’m a student of Brené Brown and tirelessly read her books, diving deep into the personal reflection that surrounds her work. Leadership isn’t having people do what you tell them to do. It’s not espousing your system of belief and expecting a team to fall in line without question, like lemmings into the sea. It doesn’t happen automatically. That’s being a dictator. Leadership is full of nuance.

Leadership requires vulnerability. The willingness to be open and honest about how what you’re experiencing, even when it sucks. It requires transparency. Having personal values that guide the way you go about your life, at work or at home. Leadership requires courage, which, Brené says in her work, you can’t get to without vulnerability.

Anyone can be a leader, whether you’re leading yourself or leading others. People are seen as leaders out of respect for the way they go about their lives, whether in or outside of work. Leaders are willing to wrestle with the hard decisions, to face their fears and do it anyways. They create boundaries about what’s ok and not ok.  They demonstrate integrity, having the hard conversations, bringing other people with you instead of expecting compliance. If you require compliance, you’re most likely going to see resentment instead.

This notion that you’re not letting someone lead? Or another person demanding that you let them be the leader? That’s not on you, that’s on them. In and of itself that sentiment falls flat. Nobody has to give you permission to lead. By the characteristics you demonstrate in the way you go about your life and treat others you show that you’re a leader. In the same vein, you can lead yourself every day of your life. You don’t need followers in order to be a leader. That’s true whether you’re at work or at home.

The notion that the leader at home or work has to be a man? Well, maybe it is a man. But just as easily, it could be a woman. Or it could be both partners. Being a leader is the way you carry yourself, not based on sex or position. We’re getting better about that, but there amongst more conservative /traditional workplaces and homes, the notion of the male leader is still espoused. It’s something that needs to change. Leadership, done well, can be a bit of a dance, where two people complement each other, both owning their part.

Which is all any of us can truly do in life, own our part. Bring our best game every day. Show up, do the work, be willing to be vulnerable. Lead ourselves first and if given the opportunity, lead others with integrity and courage. And keep showing up and doing the same. It’s our journey, and I’m on it with you.

 

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Owning YOUR Story

Owning your storyEvery 4 ½ minutes, a baby is born with a birth defect in the United States. That’s nearly 120,000 babies born with birth defects each year. In my estimation, the prevalence of birth defects in the late 1960’s when I was born was perhaps more, because maternal care was not as sophisticated as today. Though I don’t have the stats on it, the advancement of medical care through the years has also likely resulted in a decrease in the long-term effects of some birth defects.

When I was born, the doctors knew I had a birth defect in my foot that would likely result in amputation. Too much blood in my foot, that’s how I always described it. By the time I was 4 ½ I was in the hospital undergoing the predicted amputation. After 3 months at Shriner in San Francisco, I returned home to Yosemite to adjust and carry on with the business of being a little girl.

Around the time I was 8, my folks divorced and I moved with my mother a few hours away to start the 3rd grade. We moved a year later and life at home was somewhat chaotic the next six years. In high school, I returned to Yosemite to live with my Dad until college.

Purposefully I tell that portion of my story at a high level. The early years, the time I was in the hospital was extremely impactful, it created my lifelong love of medicine and the comfort I experience when I visit the doctor, have medical procedures, spend time in the hospital. I look back on that time with warm fuzzies.

What I’ve noticed about the middle part is that I have little to say about it and at the same time, volumes. But telling your story to another person is an act of vulnerability. It’s opening up, exposing yourself. Your version might be whimsical, magical, mundane, average, or it might be raw.

Here’s the thing, your story is no one else’s. But what happens sometimes is that people will layer their own judgement, or experience over yours and try to mirror back what they presume you must have felt, when in fact, it’s not accurate.

And when you’re first exploring your feelings around childhood or significant life events, you might listen. You could be tempted to add a layer of experience that wasn’t there. “It must have been so hard for you. You must have missed… You must have felt…” If you’re sharing your story, in that raw space of vulnerability, still figuring it out, you might question your recollection.

I could easily look back on being in the hospital and think about the lack, my parents weren’t there the majority of the time. There was no Ronald McDonald house, it was the norm for parents to visit only on the weekend. But that would overshadow the overwhelmingly positive impact that experience had on my life. My messy middle? I could call that the crazy, and there may be days where I do. But I’ve gone back and explored my feelings about that time, and still, I would describe it as generally fine.

Your story is yours alone. Other people’s insertions, interpretations, the overwhelming inclination of some people to analyze your “family of origin,” has its place. But it’s a small space. Continuing to rehash over and over? Exhausting. I’ve learned that when you’re first exploring your story you might be like a sponge and listen to what others insert. But as you rumble with your story, you will determine what it truly is for you. Other’s opinions can fall by the wayside, they can, frankly, back off.

Brené Brown writes that owning your story is the bravest thing you’ll ever do. I wholeheartedly agree. Whatever it is for you, let it be your own. No one can take that away from you. You are brave, strong and worthy of your own experience. Be authentically you. I’m on the journey with you.

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Standing in the Wilderness

Stand in the WildernessBold. The word I chose for 2019 which I’m trying to live out. But… in a lot of instances I feel pretty squishy. I am open to a wide variety of perspectives, options. I steer clear of most issues many in the general population get fired up about. Rant about on their social media. It’s just not who I am.

For one, it rubs up against my peacemaking nature. My default is go along to get along. Granted, as I get older I have more opinions about a broader range of topics but given a choice I’ll keep it to myself. Squishy. I can see things both ways.

But…there are a few things. Chocolate, yes. Candy that sticks in your teeth, no. Tacos, yes. Liver, hell no! Ok, that’s easy stuff, but lest I offend you, I’ll hold my tongue on others (in and ode to my true Enneagram 9 self).

The other day I was thinking about the nature behind taking a stand and what has caused me to do so on a few key issues. Key in my life at least. I surprisingly discovered when I’m challenged on my view, I become stronger in my own conviction. I don’t waffle, I don’t change my mind. I get stronger.

The revelation surprised me, and I realized it only in hindsight. Through a recent difficult stretch in life, I was definitely challenged. Or maybe less challenged, more judged, for my perspectives. Which only caused me to feel stronger about my beliefs.

Why does that happen? We can go one of two ways when challenged. Either crumble, acquiesce, or we can take a stand. Stand for what we believe for that belief that it at the essence of who we are. What I experienced in real life was what Brené Brown describes in her book Braving the Wilderness. She writes about what people are most worried about, and in her research found:

“the idea of belonging that was most important, with many yearning to “be part of something–to experience real connection with others–but not at the cost of their authenticity, freedom or power.”

We all desire to belong and human nature often twists that into that tendency to get along for the sake of it. Which only leads to our own dissatisfaction. Brené goes on to say:

“Belonging is the innate human desire to be part of something larger than us. Because this yearning is so primal, we often try to acquire it by fitting in and by seeking approval, which are not only hollow substitutes for belonging, but often barriers to it. Because true belonging only happens when we present our authentic, imperfect selves to the world, our sense of belonging can never be greater than our level of self-acceptance.”

For one of the first times, and perhaps the most important time, I’ve taken a stand. More than that, I’ve shifted how I show up in life, and what is ok for me and what’s not.

And I found myself in the wilderness.

In the relationship where I was bravely authentic, where I took a stand, the wilderness became my solace. There’s peace in the wilderness when you know that you have stood up for what you believe. Have quietly, but firmly, remained authentic in the face of opposition. Only in that place can you truly understand what it requires to have belonging that comes from your own self-acceptance. Belonging not dependent upon other’s approval.

Taking a stand for what you believe honors your authentic self. It’s tangible evidence to yourself that your opinion, your belief matters. Hold on to that. Risk braving the wilderness. You’re worth it.

 

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Ordinary Courage

Ordinary CourageThe energy contained in tiny humans never ceases to amaze me. We recently spent 3 days playing at Universal Studios Hollywood with my husband’s son and his family. The 2 grand kids are 6 and 4 and the energy contained within those combined 10 years is beyond description. We played in the park all day and they swam like fish at the hotel pool in the evening. No naps. I wanted a nap just watching them!

They’d never experienced roller coasters before and we weren’t sure what they’d be up for, but they are daredevils. The older one rode everything – even the Mummy – which races you at 45 mph, in the dark, with skeletons. That’s where he found his limit. After riding, he admitted it was scary and it wasn’t on our repeat list. He tried even though he was nervous about it. That’s courage.

Last week at work, I managed through a challenging moment with one of our leaders. Partway through, when it hadn’t played out as anticipated, she told me she was disappointed I hadn’t addressed the situation differently in the moment. We talked about it, I could see her perspective and we reworked our direction together. I appreciated her perspective and that she shared with me so that we could find a solution together. She expressed her true feeling in the moment, allowed us the opportunity to get on the same page, leading to a needed outcome. That’s courage.

It’s easy to roll past the ordinary moments in life where we show courage. Whenever you are vulnerable, share your heart, ride a roller coaster, those are moments of courage. When you have a tough conversation, that’s courage. It’s easy to equate courage only with moments of heroism. Where you fight a lion, battle an adversary, jump off a cliff – actions that are clearly courageous.

The ordinary moments though, those are the real deal. Brene Brown shares that the original definition of courage is to tell the story of who you are with your whole heart. In and of itself, that feels hard. Putting your heart out there, not knowing or being able to control the outcome, is terrifying. But once you’ve done it, even if it doesn’t turn out like you’d hoped, there’s a sense of peace because you’ve shared your heart. Being courageous doesn’t isolate you from hard feelings. But it leads to an authentic you. If you’re constantly being and doing what you think others expect, it’ll never lead to your authentic self. That only comes from courage.

If you pay attention, you’ll notice the ordinary moments where you are courageous. And once you do, build on them. Even if sharing your heart sucks and is hard (which it can be). Do it anyways. The discomfort you feel in the moment is preferable to not living authentically. You have it in you. We all do. Be brave, be bold and be yourself. You are courageous.

 

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Feeling and Release

Know what you feelI often watch, with curiosity, scenes on TV or in the movies where the person is upset and lets it out by screaming in the car. Pounding on the steering wheel. Emitting a string of profanity that would curl paint at the top of their lungs and, at the end, peacefully returning to the day’s agenda. Even writing those words makes my stomach turn, just a little bit.

Don’t mistake me, I have no judgement about it, honestly. But the thought of engaging in that type of release (because I get that’s what it is), feels like a forbidden fruit. I’m intrigued by it. I can see the value but imagining myself doing it is uncomfortable.

I had this conversation with a friend of mine the other day. She and I are wired differently, and she didn’t even blink an eye before saying that she has used this technique before. Cathartically. She challenged me to try next time I was in my car.

I did.

And felt like an idiot.

The first words that came into my mind after my half-hearted yell were “hell no, that’s not happening again.” So far out of my comfort zone I nearly had to adjust to a new time zone. I relayed the experience back to my friend who laughed, and she said I’d probably write about it.

She was right.

Because the experience continued to roll around in my head as I thought about why I was so uncomfortable. First of all, yikes, that sure felt like a loss of control. It wasn’t, but that’s what I experienced. While I continue to work on loosening up, at the core, I’m wound tight. Yelling, screaming at the top of my lungs was, to me, anything but in control.

Second, I’m conflict adverse, I tend to ignore my own anger (a whole other story) and yelling felt like conflict. Yes, even alone in my car. I’ll be honest, I’ve tried it at home before and that didn’t work out so well either. I waited until I was alone in the house and then I tried, came out more like a whimper if I’m being honest.

Despite my own aversion to yelling it out, alone, I accepted that it’s simply not me. I think we often try to force ourselves into a strategy that works for others, but not for us. “Everybody’s doing it,” it not a reason to do something that doesn’t work for you. Culture can press up on us, working to convince us we should give it a try, but none of that matters if it doesn’t work for you.

That said, with respect to the release of negative feelings within yourself, within me, find a strategy.

The first strategy is to recognize the anger is there in the first place. Sitting with it, wresting and determining the source. I’ve learned that it’s often not what I think at a surface level. And then figure out what works for you. Negative feelings are akin to a cancer within our bodies. They take a serious toll on our health. This is not an alternative idea, it is fact. It is critical we find a way to process and release those feelings. Whether you scream in the car, or alone in your house, talk through it, burn sage, go to Taekwondo, or whatever it is that works for you, let it out.

I’ve had the Brene Brown The Call to Courage on Netflix on repeat. And while I am not a stranger to her work, I’m a devotee, I love listening to her talk about vulnerability. Vulnerability is courage. For me, at least, the release of anger is vulnerable. Vulnerable because it’s not an emotion I like or want to admit that I have. It feels “bad,” it’s not, but that’s been the story I tell myself. My life’s desire has been to keep ad promote the peace, so you can image my discomfort with anger.  But for mental, spiritual and physical health, when it’s there, I need to talk about it, let it out.

While I still don’t see myself leading a vocal yoga class, or taking up yelling in my car, I do see myself being vulnerable. And although anger isn’t at the top of most people’s minds, or maybe it is, it’s a valid emotion that each of us have to one degree or another. An emotion that needs a release valve, preferably not in the form of incinerating another person in the process. I challenge you to think about where the anger may be coming from and then find a way to let it go. A way that is authentic and boldly you.

 

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Courage: Round Two

IMG_6657I wrote about courage a couple weeks ago, but the thoughts are continuing to roll around in my head. I blame that on Brene Brown.

It’s no secret that I thoroughly enjoy Brene Brown’s teachings, there’s something about her that I get, it clicks. It’s as though they are written to describe my exact challenge, or circumstance. One of the themes she weaves throughout her teachings is the idea of courage , and does it in a way that I love.

She talks about courage not in the traditional sense, but with an eye on owning the responsibility for your life. Asking for what you need, speaking your truth, owning your story, setting boundaries, and reaching out for support. Well…that’ll be no problem…said no one, ever. Seriously, perhaps some of the hardest challenges we face are those that force us to be vulnerable. Of course, Brene is all about vulnerability, so it’s no surprise.

Let’s get our courage mindset going and think about this for a minute. First, speaking your truth. I am honest as the day is long, but at the same time to speak my truth is challenge. It’s being willing to speak to what is truer than true for you. And whatever that is, might not be the most popular, or it might be counter-culture to your group of friends, or your family. They may not agree, or like it. May try to dissuade you. But courage is standing in your truth no matter what anyone else thinks. It’s your truth.

You’re courageous when you own your story. This is the story that resides in your head, that you’re constantly telling yourself to make sense of the world around you. It’s you, filling in the blanks when you don’t have information and what you fill in may or may not be accurate. We have to own that, say it out loud, question it for ourselves to find the actual truth. Owning our story is knowing that we have the ability to control our narrative and at times we have to question what we’re saying.

Ahhh boundaries. Boundaries are healthy, they encourage open honest conversation, and provide you navigation within your relationships and an anchor. Here’s an easy one. I am not a fan of violence and conflict, which is an understatement. I have an internal reaction to it, in my gut, both when it’s happening around me, or on screen. I try to not be avoidant of but to stay within my boundaries would be declining to see a movie that is violence based. It’s taking a break in a conflict situation so that I can return later and have a constructive conversation. Boundaries are knowing what situations and behaviors I will navigate and which are deal breakers, and they’re a tool to talk about it.  When I don’t maintain healthy boundaries, I also feel it in my body. An uncomfortable sensation where I know I’m out of balance with myself. Think about how you feel, what comes up for you, when your boundaries are encroached upon.

Finally, Brene talks about asking for help. My first response is…do I have to? It’s a hard one for me. It’s not because I don’t think people can help me, it’s because I don’t want to be a burden. I worry about inconveniencing others. I want to fly under the radar. But, I do need help. Often. And when I ask, people are more than happy to help me, but it’s having the courage to ask in the first place. When we can have the courage, be brave enough to ask for help, it allows us to stay balanced and not overextend ourselves when it’s not necessary. We’re designed for connection with others and allowing them to help us is part of that dynamic.

Courage is an element of relationship, both with us and with others. As you’ve read through Brene Brown’s elements of courage, was there one that hit you a little harder? That caused you to think twice, pause to reflect? Pay attention to those feelings. We can practice being courageous every day, it might look a little different for you and me, but it’s courage nonetheless. We can support each other through encouragement when we see someone else being courageous, because that’s part of the journey. Being authentic and courageous, and applauding it in others.