Tag: Coaching

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It’s time to let go of ‘supposed to’ and self-doubt

It's time to let go of 'supposed to' and self doubt

Quick, think back to your intention for the year, or your New Year’s resolution. Pause. Reflect on it.

How’s that working out for you? Probably, just about like it’s going for me. What in the actual hell.

Inspired by Brené Brown’s work, because, she’s my patron saint these days, I embarked on 2020 with an intention rather than a resolution. To spend 2020 working on living a wholehearted life. No biggie. Wholehearted life. A full, rich, lived experience. How to do that while sheltering in place and social distancing is a bit of a quandary, but it’s provided me inordinate amounts of time to think. It’s month nine and I’ve landed in the second to last mantra, or guidepost as Brené refers to them: Cultivating meaningful work: Letting go of self-doubt and “supposed to.”

Prepare yourselves, I have plenty to say and only four short weeks to let go of ‘supposed to’ and self-doubt.

Starting with…’supposed to’

I’m nearly 53 and I’ve spent around 99.9992% of my life listening to what I was supposed to do. Perhaps girls born and raised today have a different experience, I certainly hope so for my nieces’ sake and will do all in my Auntie power to support it, BUT, I’m of a generation of women, akin to many before me, who think about what we’re ‘supposed to do,’ as a default. While my purpose today is focused on ‘supposed to’ as it relates to meaningful work, easily, I could fill reams with the messages women receive. Be thin, smile, stay positive, serve a man, stay home with your kids, get to work, have children, don’t question authority…on and on and on.

Sticking with supposed to as it relates to meaningful work, I wonder how many of us entered a career job directly out of high school or college because we were ‘supposed to’? Gap year? Um, what even would that have been. Loafing, that’s what it would have been. Now? Perfectly reasonable alternative to straight through college. Entering a career that was meaningful? Yeah, meaningful because it gave me a paycheck. The model laid out before me was to start in a career and follow through. Not a bad model, but perhaps not the one for me. Nonetheless, entered a field and progressed, just as I was supposed to. After all, I’m a ‘good girl’.

Self-doubt = Midlife

I stopped covering my gray hair around age 48 and adapted the attitude, ‘gray hair…don’t care.’ That is the essence of midlife. I.don’t.care. Meaning, I don’t care what you think. I don’t care what I’m supposed to be doing. In reality, there are topics I care about inordinately more than the color of my hair or what people think I’m ‘supposed to’ do.

And if it were only that simple, I would not have a blog. A great big nothingness would fill my pages.

In midlife, a stronger sense of self-doubt enters the picture. Centered around doubting what we’re doing with our life. Are we actually engaged in work, activities, relationships that are more than ‘supposed to’? That career we entered because it’s ‘what you do,’ is it what you want to do? Quite possibly, we’ve been consumed with somebody else’s vision of how we should be living our lives.

Midlife is where we wake up to that. I can only speak for myself, but, and it’s a strong but, I have shared with many women around this phase, and the commonality is a sense of ‘what am I doing with my life’ and, ‘is this really how I want to ride it out’? It’s a time to question, to wonder, to consider, to dream – or our best approximation of dreaming. I occasionally wonder if I’ve forgotten how…it’s been eon’s since I’ve let my mind wander. I’ve been busy adulting, doing what I’m supposed to. When I allow myself, I see that self-doubt permeates because I’ve been on a chosen path so long. Not one I selected either, I defaulted to it. Similar to dozens of hundreds of other women, it’s the one that was laid out before me and I didn’t ask questions.

And I have questions now

If this Wholehearted Living guidepost is about cultivating meaningful work, I’ll start with that question. Is my work meaningful? To whom? The work I do may be meaningful to those I serve throughout the day, but is it meaningful to me? Yes, I said it. To me. It’s not selfish – and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise – to desire your work to be meaningful to you. Does your work help or benefit someone else? Maybe. I suppose in some ways our work exists because a service is needed, people naturally benefit from that.

But is it meaningful to you? Does the work you’re engaged in bring you joy? Are you passionate about it? Or, are you going through the motions, continuing in a field that you’ve done forever and as a result have become ‘good’ at it, so you don’t rock the boat. What would meaningful work consist of? That’s the question, isn’t it? Freeing ourselves from ‘supposed to,’ and pushing through our self-doubt to arrive at a place of wonder and curiosity. Ask yourself, what does meaningful work look like for me? Not your kids, parents, friends, spouse, co-workers, the guy next door…what does it look like for you?

I guarantee you we’re going to continue looking at meaningful work. This is our one and only wholehearted life, and we’re on the journey together. Be brave. Lisa

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Why pursuing your dreams brings calm and stillness

Reminding me of the events of my life 4 years ago, Facebook shared my memories the other day of a solo trip I took to Boulder. In advance of a work meeting in Denver the following week, I made my way to the picturesque town for the weekend. Hiked like crazy, joined free yoga at a local studio, and wrote and wrote and wrote. About my life, and dreams and desires. When I returned home, I set in motion a portion of those dreams, which, in the end, were more a playing out of unfinished business. But what I desired, what I knew was calling me, I neatly packed away in the back of my mind.

Why we sideline our dreams

Because it didn’t feel safe. That particular dream would have caused me to upend my stability and venture into something new. And while my passion for it, the yearning, was strong, inertia and safety was stronger. But the dream didn’t die. Instead, it has continued to roll around inside of me, poking at me, causing anxiety and angst…for four years. Quite contrary to the calm and stillness I desired and more importantly, desire today.

So often, we trade our dreams and desire for safety. For living the stable life our parents want for us, or our spouse wants for us, that we’re told is the life we should want. At the end of the day though, who is living your life? Of course, if you have a partner, life is co-conceived, but that shared vision shouldn’t exclude the pursuit of your own dreams in addition to joint dreams. You’re allowed to have shared and separate lives. As an Enneagram 9, I ignored that for too long.

There is no time to wait

For those not familiar with the Enneagram, check it out now. How my type 9 shows up is a desire to keep the peace, to the point of putting myself aside to maintain relational peace (at least peace on the surface). What I notice is that desired peace also shows up in my relationship with myself, and taking steps towards a new path are scary, unknown, and potentially ‘unsafe’, whatever that is. While that desire for peace remains strong, I’m noticing it’s had an unexpected side effect…internal anxiety.

Knowing the path I’m longing for is within my reach and not pursuing it produces anxiety. An internal push/pull. Truly though, there is no time to wait. None of us know what will happen tomorrow, and if I wake up ten years from now without having pursued my heart’s calling, dammit I’ll be mad at myself. Seriously.

After the first step, it gets easier

Think about a new skill you learned recently. When you started, the thought of it may have been daunting. However, the longer you kept at it, the easier it became to the point where you wondered why you were intimidated in the first place. When I used to ride Double Centuries (yes in fact that is 200 miles on a bike, in one day), people would say they could never do it. Of course they could, if they wanted to. I certainly didn’t jump on my bike and go from riding zero miles to 200 in a week. It took time and practice. Only then did it become doable.

Which is exactly how we make our dreams reality. We take one step at a time. The anxiety I may (ok, do) feel rolling around inside of me this exact minute, it will dissipate. So will yours. I promise. Your dreams and desires are there for a reason. They’re pointing you in the direction you’re called to go. They are not in your mind by accident, stop treating them like they are. And yes, I’m listening too. You’ll know you’re on the right path because the farther you go the more calm and stillness you’ll have.

One step. Maybe that’s all you take today. But one will lead to another, forward motion will continue. What seems daunting and insurmountable will arrive sooner than you even expect it. But it will not if you don’t start moving. And as we realize the fruition of those dreams? Our anxiety will slip away and be replaced with the calm and stillness our wholehearted lives crave. Take a step…I’m with you my friends. Be brave. Lisa

 

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Why we need to BE not DO

Frenetic energy. I hadn’t heard the term in quite some time, but it landed in the midst of a training I led this week. Defined, frenetic is an adjective describing an activity marked by fast and energetic, disordered, or anxiety-driven activity. The woman used the term to describe a person’s energy, and I’m not sure why’s it continues to poke around in my mind, perhaps because it struck a nerve. You see, I’m Lisa, and I struggle to be not do.

Overcoming the drive to “DO”

‘Whatcha doing?’ Rolls of our tongues before we even realize it. Habit. Because, well, everyone is doing something, right? It’s wired into us to do, constantly, what did you do this weekend? What are you doing on vacation? What are you doing at work today? We do constantly, and when the need to do goes into overdrive, the risk of becoming frenetic easily creeps into the picture.

Take a deep breath and think about your yesterday. What was it filled with? Mine? Up early, went for a walk with a friend, cleaned my house, did 4+ loads of laundry, picked up lunch, drove to a friend’s, came home, more laundry, cooked dinner and collapsed. How about you? Be honest. Was it filled with activity similar to mine or??? That’s the question. If I wasn’t frenetically consumed with a clean house and using my precious time off to check more tasks off a list instead of connection with others or more importantly, myself…what on earth would I…wait for it…do.

How else can we define our time?

My Brené Brown Wholehearted Living Guidepost this month is Letting go of anxiety as a lifestyle / Embrace calm and stillness. Honestly, I’ve seen this one on the horizon and wondered how I’d overcome the lifestyle carefully curated to do rather than be.

 Be. Let it be. What if you answered the query “what are you doing this weekend,” with “Letting it be?” I wonder the response you’d get, or I’d get. Perhaps like I was a three headed hippie? Frankly, the pace of society is frenetic and although we complain about it, we must find some comfort in it, because in this moment, with the country in stages of shutdown, we wistfully long to get out and do something. We may be feeling as though we’re wasting month after month, at home, socially distanced, not doing.

Except we are still doing. I continue to read of frenetic energy redirected to their homestead. Re-decorating projects, new landscaping, closets cleaned out, sourdough bread made…because, the horror if we actually rested as we shelter in place.

You might find yourself forced to be

Last November, surgery on my foot rendered me immobile, literally, for 6 weeks. Prior to the surgery, I believed I’d be able to go to work in a week. Staying at home seemed wasteful. So much to do. Imagine my surprise when, instead of bounding back to work, at the end of 6 weeks, I asked my doctor for another. Not quite ready to jump back into anything. After about 2 weeks, I felt stress slipping away. Stress I didn’t realize I was carrying. And once I released it, the last thing I wanted to do was jump back on that train. I coveted the calm, the stillness, arising from being confined to a comfy chair in yoga pants. I had zero desire to interrupt that. My body told me to let it be.

Yet slowly, or maybe not so slowly, I resumed my activity level. Bringing all the activities, the frenetic sense of it, into my life. But why??? Honestly. No one, and I mean, no one, puts that expectation on me, or on you, beside you – and me. We all do it we ease back into what we called our normal life. As though it’s a suit of armor we slip on and once equipped, we’re more comfortable.

Give it a try – Let it Be

Maybe that’s part of it. We don’t know how to let it be. Ok, that’s fair. But how are we going to learn besides practice? That’s why I meditate each morning. Why I park it in my chair and chill in the evenings. Why I’m going to close my computer in a hot second and relax with a friend. I’m not claiming to be role model for it, but baby steps.

What baby steps can you, will you, take this week to let it be. The song’s lyrics tell us Whisper words of wisdom, let it be. Because there is wisdom in those 7 words. Collectively, let’s take a breath and be. Release any frenetic energy, it does not serve you today. And when someone asks you what you did this weekend, you can tell them I let it be. Be brave friends. Lisa

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Why exhaustion is NOT a status symbol

Looking forward to adulthood, I was chomping at the bit to recreate a nightly cocktail hour. As a child, I watched my parents partake and it appeared so debonair, so sheikh. A symbolic way to shake off the exhaustion of the workday. Proud of ourselves for another day and looking for a reward. For a time, I found my groove with a glass of wine after work. Admittedly, I enjoyed a great glass of wine with friends of family, particularly sitting near water or outside.

 

I’d say it was 7ish years ago – and by this time, no more frequent than during the weekend – when I noticed that after a glass of wine or two, a headache quickly emerged. As in, before I was done with my wine. Shortly thereafter, a naturopathic doctor advised me to try eliminating alcohol from my diet, along with sugar, dairy and a host of other foods. I recall driving home from that appointment feeling as though basically I’d been told to stop eating food.

 

When I tried a sip of wine a few months later, the result was disastrous. And since that time, my ability to consume alcohol in any form (and by any form, I mean any form, in food or otherwise), I immediately feel the headache and nausea arise. They will be my companion for at least a week. No exaggeration.

 

I finally got smart…a month ago… and went to a neurologist after having a headache from half a gluten free cookie. The culprit was vanilla extract (cue the doomsday music now). Turns out, the doctor told me, the headaches are migraines. For seven years I’ve sucked it up and suffered through the week-long, decently severe, headaches each time I inadvertently ate something with alcohol.

 

I’m smart now. Neurologist. Big deal, he gave me the 411, some meds, and I thought I was set. I was not.

Exhaustion becomes our pattern

 

Yesterday, when I woke up with pressure behind my eyes and throbbing in my temples, I was confused. I hadn’t eaten anything out of the ordinary. I experienced despair because I was following the rules. But what I hadn’t factored in was when my doctor switched me to a different medication, there was a transition period. Cue migraine.

 

You’re probably imagining I laid on the couch all day, in the quiet, not using my brain – since that only makes it hurt worse. You would be wrong. In fact, I worked all day. Not ‘phoned it in,’ worked. Instead, I had a fairly intense day, migraine be damned. As I write this, still have the migraine. And near the end of the day yesterday, I found myself wondering what compulsion kept me working even at this subpar level. I mean, come on, a migraine is a legit reason to stop working. But I didn’t.

Exhaustion as a status symbol – a false belief

 

Many of us adopt the false belief somewhere in our early working years that continuing to work when you’re sick or suffering was a status symbol. Never let them see you sweat, we were told. Not consciously, of course, the trickier ways we harm our selves are smarter than that, they’re covert. But subconscious whispers, keep going, you’re not that bad off, you don’t have COVID…you’re not dying. Get back to work.

 

If you share that subconscious thought pattern, let me tell you, it’s just plain stupid. And I say that to myself as much as any other person. If you’re like me and missed the lesson on resting, pausing when you feel like ‘crap on a cracker’ (which is, by the way, my new favorite line, not even going to pretend it’s not), it’s not too late.

 

Play and rest are critical, but too often dismissed in favor of proving something, to yourself or someone else. How tough you are, how you keep going, how you overcome. Dumb, dumb, dumb…I can say that because that’s my inner voice and I know it’s dumb even though I keep doing it.

Wholehearted living instead of exhaustion

 

Wholehearted living has shown me that working towards the Guideposts Brené Brown gives us is not a one and done. They take effort, daily, choices to give up our false narratives including ‘Exhaustion is a status symbol,’ and go a different way.

 

We will slip up. There will be days we arrive at 5 p.m. wondering why we didn’t stop hours ago when our head started throbbing. The hope is that the next time, we’ll choose differently. That instead we might rest or play or engage in whatever activity it is that brings your heart joy. If we make those choices, perhaps together we can shift the paradigm and rest will no longer be something people choose – it will be a natural part of living. For today, what will you do to prevent reaching exhaustion and know that taking care of yourself is the long run status symbol? I know you can do it, we’re navigating this journey together, friends. Be Brave – Lisa

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Do you need to dance like nobody’s watching?

Are there moments within your ordinary life that are mundane, but which bring you joy? In COVID-life, I’ve been paying closer attention what feels like play. Particularly so this month as I focus on the Wholehearted Living Guidepost “Cultivating Play and Rest: Letting go of exhaustion as a status symbol and productivity as self-worth” I had one such experience this morning. And thank the good Lord in heaven no one was watching.

Dance like nobody is watching

Here’s the buildup. I’d been fussing around my house since 7 a.m. Precariously climbing a ladder to trim a tree with my newly acquired tree lopper (oddly satisfying – I have to admit it) and cleaning, and cleaning, and cleaning. No one was home, ideal situation for cleaning. Headphones in, my jamming tunes going, singing at the top of my lungs, frightening the dog. Seriously, she was confused. And then, my power ballad came on. Whitney Houston belting out One Moment in Time. There was singing, there was dancing, there were arm movements. It was a thing. Probably looked more like one of these things, the bad ones, than Whitney. But it wouldn’t have happened if anyone had been home.

Why don’t we dance like nobody is watching…when someone is?

As I was gloriously enjoying Whitney, and one, maybe two repeat performances, I wondered if there were people who, in their moments of play, of relaxation into their true selves, could honestly let go enough to dance and sing like I was if other people were around. I’d thought about that before, when I was married and it wasn’t going well, wishing he would walk in and see that part of me with hopes that would show a different side of me.

Instead of showing that soft underbelly of ourselves – oh, I am the only one who feels like that? Unlikely. Letting someone see that playful, silly, secret, inner Whitney side of myself doesn’t happen, nope, because it feels risky. In the context of the Guidepost focus for this month, it undermines the front we might be striving to create, one of productivity to the point of exhaustion if we allow someone to see us while at play.

Dance party for one is a start…but…

For those of us who lean towards the serious side like the Leaning Tower of Pisa, yours truly included, incorporating a dance party for one is a place to start. But what would it take to open yourself up to involving others in your play? What would that look like for you? Believe me, I get that it’s not easy, any why is that? Let’s cut to the chase, vulnerability. When you play, you might look silly. Or better yet, when you play, 9 times out of 10, you will look silly. So what? Vulnerability defined by Brené Brown is uncertainty, risk and emotional exposure. Do those components exist when you invite someone into your private dance parties, your private play?

100%.for. sure.

Vulnerability gets you to courage

I had someone comment the other day that you have a choice to be vulnerable and surrender or retreat…and that courage is the bridge. You can choose to surrender to the moment and let someone into to your inner world, invite them to share you play time, or you can retreat and keep yourself apart. I’m not going to tell you one is better than the other. But what I am going to tell you is that I believe there is a time for both, and if you listen to your heart, you will know when that time is.

My friends, I know you are courageous. If you’ve been with me for any length of time, you know we’re on a vulnerable, courageous journey to a wholehearted life. It is one step at a time and at moments feels like a slog-fest, which is normal, I’m sure of it. But Wholehearted Living, bringing our whole self, including play and rest, letting go of exhaustion, know that self-worth is within us every moment, not externally derived, is our path. We’re on that brave path together my friends. Sending you all the love. Lisa

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When play doesn’t come naturally

As a young girl, under 8, I’d cultivated an organized, serious side. My collection of books, those passed down to me from aunts, uncles, my parents, and accumulated as gift and through Scholastic Book Fairs at school set me up well. So well, in fact, I’d determined that my books could not be touched by my little brother. Nope. In order to put his little hands on my precious books, he would need to check them out.

I created a library system.

By taking envelopes, cutting them in half, gluing them inside the book cover and putting an index card within the slot, a simple book became a library treasure. He played along, for a while, and then I’m sure he got bored with the entire system and resumed whatever it is little brothers did, probably playing. I had no time for that. I had to organize. He went on to terrorize me as we got older, so I’d say we’re even.

Where did all the playing go?

Much later, I had two additional little brothers and was more akin to an aunt with them because I was already out of the house and never lived at home with them. They’re now adults and as I think about my Wholehearted Guidepost this month of Cultivating Play and Rest, Letting Go of Exhaustion as a Status Symbol and Productivity as Self-Worth, I have an uphill battle on the play side.

I think my brothers got all the genes for playing.

No really, I’m not joking.

Do I want to play? Who am I, Professor Snape? I am not. So, sure I want to play. But it doesn’t come naturally. My brothers, especially the younger ones, they make me laugh all the time. They’re silly, and light-hearted, they’re jokesters and generally like to have a good time. But all three of them are funny in their own ways. I am the serious one. So, while its easy to say “lighten up,” it’s not flipping a switch.

Of course we want to let go of exhaustion!

But letting go of exhaustion as a status symbol? Sign me up. Earlier in my career, I worked on a takeover project. Endless hours and one night, driving home at 11 p.m., I counted the hours thus far in the week to keep from falling asleep. I got to 80, it was Thursday. I learned that within that company, hours accompanied promotions and traded time at home for advancement. It’s a trap of your early career that many of us fell into in the 90’s and people still fall into today. My advice? Do not do it!

Fast forward to later stages in the game and with wisdom I can say, ummm, nope. The benefit of all those hours was more hours and time away from my family. Time that is unrecoverable. As I talk with peers in this stage of life, it’s a common thread. Most of the women I talk with worked, we jumped on the corporate ladder without a second thought. And lost time at home, time to pursue our interests and now? Now we’re figuring out who we are and what we want. And we have many thoughts about it.

Make a choice to play

Those thoughts are coming fast and furious now. Because we’re tired. Bossy older sister wants at least a chance to play without having to work all the time. Wholehearted living requires us to look at our entire life, not one slice, to truly become our whole selves. And letting go of anything that is exterior to ourselves as a status symbol, or to provide us with self-worth, is necessary to fully function as our whole self.

Play and rest…if you are like me (dear God, I hope you got the play gene!), you’ve spent most of your life being serious and you might need to experiment a bit to find what’s fun for you. Yoga…that’s always relaxing for the body and mind, being with my silly brothers and my kids – who equally make me laugh, ridiculous movies, and even old TV show (and I’m talking childhood) clips like this one. At the same time, I know I will always have a serious side, it’s part of who I am.

Each of our Wholehearted Journeys looks different, but whatever yours is, be brave. I’m right here with you. Sending love and light. Lisa

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Why creativity within faith can be challenging

As certainly as the sun will rise in the east, it is known that fall leads to winter, followed by spring and finally summer. These things we know. We may compare the seasons to one another, but we know that each has its gifts. And with each, we also experience change. We are currently transitioning from spring into summer. The Summer Solstice.

Also happening in June

June has also become known as Pride month. The annual celebration of the 1969 Stonewall Riots in New York City.  It’s a time to commemorate the impact the LGBT+ community has had on the world. Just this week, the Supreme Court of the United States ruled that the 1964 Civil Rights Act protects LGBT+ individuals from discrimination ‘based on sex’ in the workplace. A significant victory and step forward for our country and for people who have been unfairly discriminated against for how they were born and who they love.

I could easily continue about the countless other serious, unjust, issues within the United States at this time, but those will be the subject of another blog, another day. I still have much interior work to be done on those matters. On the issue of LGBT+ and change, I have done significant work on many levels. Which circles back to the challenges of creativity within faith.

Getting to the point

Raised a Christian, I’ve attended church my entire life. Sitting in the pews, listening, not questioning. Ok, maybe not entirely listening, and yes, women submit to your husbands I may have questioned when I was a high-minded college student. But generally, I honestly didn’t think to much about it one way or another. Church, what was preached, it was. I didn’t think about the believing part, it was. There was no question of any other options.

For many people, that’s the way it is. You don’t think about. The teaching is that the Word is without error, so you do not question it. As you grow, you’re taught to read, to understand, to bring it into your heart, and I did. But you guys, there was stuff that began to not make sense to me. When you start to wonder if it could be different, if there’s another way to look at it, those questions can be scary.

Questions more than comparison

Asking questions within Bible study, at least the ones I was part of, for example…whoa, whoa, slow down. It was as though I was comparing what the Bible said to a three headed dog rather than asking what I thought were interesting questions. Or, told I was being disrespectful. So, I stopped asking.

That scariness feels like you’re on the outside. It feels as though if you’re not with us, you’re against us. Scary because it feels like judgement. And that? That feels like shame.

And not asking, accepting, that’s ok for the vast majority of people. It is. But it wasn’t for me. I had people within my life, my own flesh and blood, who are gay. Nowhere within my heart could I believe that, as written, God did not love flesh of my flesh. I could not. Yes, it was my gut. And yes, there were those who told me the Bible was clear. But that’s not what my heart told me. I could not understand that when those words were written 2000+ years ago, there was even a remote consideration of future circumstances and ongoing human evolution.

How to be creative within faith

Being creative within faith feels like you’re out on a bit of a limb. I cannot lie about that. Am I making stuff up? Absolutely not. I have consulted with pastors. I have read books, articles, listened to podcasts, followed websites. Talked to more pastors. Honestly, I continue to go to church, albeit one that is affirming of LGBT+ people because and would not, cannot do otherwise. But it took creativity, and not allowing the comparison from others, which is really a form of judgment, to stop me, to overshadow the work I was doing. Creativity in the examination of what I believe. It was an internal inspection, undertaken because it was too important not to.

And you may or may not agree with what I believe. That’s ok too. Our relationship with Jesus, with His love, which is intended for every single person is personal. We feel it, we take it in, we share it with others. How we do it? It’s up to us. No longer do I search the drawer for the cookie cutter. And tomorrow, it’s Sunday, and though I will watch the church I love celebrate ALL online, I will also go outside, in nature, where I believe Jesus will be with me, celebrating the change of seasons and the Summer Solstice.

Be Brave friends. Lisa

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Why we need to question the truth

As infants, we are nothing if not great observers. Helpless, we soak up the words, emotions, actions of our caregivers. Our decision-making defaults to what we’ve been handed through our genes, through Epigenetics, and childhood experiences. Since our parents are ‘without fault’ we trust and rarely question the ‘truth.’ But what if that truth is tainted?

Because it is.

Irrespective of who your parents are, or the parent you are to your children, the ‘truth’ we are taught and pass down is tainted. It’s inherited, and perhaps refined through the generations, but it’s based on a history of beliefs and how we’ve experienced life. We’re taught, and teach, what we’ve been programmed to believe, which can be positive or maybe not. Think for a minute about the first time you chose a political party. Republic, Democrat, Libertarian…lots of options these days. And for a barely legal adult of 18, whose brain is not yet fully formed, let’s be honest, the simplest option was to go with what Mom and Dad chose.

Which works, maybe forever, or maybe not. The point is not your political party, it’s the immense influence how we were raised has on our decision making, our evaluation of good and bad.

Where our ‘truth’ come from

I was primarily raised in Yosemite National Park. This is not a headline to anyone who has read my blog. Visitation was seasonal, with the majority of people flooding into the park in the spring, summer and early fall. Winter was crickets. Thus, the workforce fluctuated similarly, with around 800 additional employees, at that time mainly college students, arriving for the summer. As children, those of us living in the park saw those people, visitors and employees, and didn’t think much about them other than ‘will they buy lemonade from the stand I set up in my yard?’

While there wasn’t tremendous diversity in the ranks of those living in the park year-round, nonetheless, I don’t know that I could even detail it for you. Because, in my recollection, it was never a topic. Similarly, when my left foot was amputated at 4 while living in the park, it was not a topic. I started school that fall with the same friends I’d played with since moving to Yosemite and have zero recollection of it ever being an issue. Irrespective of race, disability, or sexual identity, honestly, my memory of that place and those days did not include conversations, about race, disability or sexual identity in a) my home from my parents, or b) in the community.

Was I naïve to it? Maybe. But that sense of inclusion carried forward into adulthood.

So, when I see people in any of those or other marginalized communities being treated differently because of a factor they can not change, I don’t understand. Or, I used to not understand. But as I’ve studied and come to understand that not all, in fact many people do not share my lens, my gratitude for a childhood experience that did not include discrimination swells. Was it there? Again, maybe, but not from my lens.

As I learn more from people different than me about their life experience – which is essential – my heart breaks a little more each time. I see the privilege automatically bestowed on me as a straight, white, woman. Factors that would never enter my mind as prevalent for many. I am also fortunate that the ‘programming’ I received from my parents was not exclusionary.

We must question the ‘truth’

But I have found, as you may have, myself in groups that are exclusionary. Subtly at first until I noticed it, and then it smacked me in the face, and I couldn’t unsee it. When you know that people you love would not be allowed to fully participate, the place you’ve chosen is no longer your place. This is when you must take a stand and question what has been said to be ‘true’, which is not easy. Because within the group you have belonging. And though you may only appear to have adopted their belief system, your belonging is dependent on it. So, when you begin to question, to wonder out loud if beliefs could be different, you risk your belonging.

Which none of us want to do.

But we must. If we find ourselves within a group or system that does not love, accept and celebrate all people, our belonging is not worth it. And I will tell you friends, that sucks. I won’t pretend it doesn’t. But our integrity is worth it. Belonging based on standing outside ourselves is nothing but hustling for our worth. And I don’t know about you, but I’d rather standalone than hustle. If this is your journey, hang in there. It’s not easy, I know it’s not easy, but we must. We are brave. We have each other. Sending you love.

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Giving yourself permission to dream

Dream big! The lesson of childhood. Embrace the unknown, explore, wander, daydream. My neighbor, Sarah, and I regularly gathered underneath the apple tree growing in the meadow in front of our houses. I have vivid memories of detailed planning for an apartment we were going to construct. First, in an underground bunker we’d dig in the bare dirt patch at the base of the tree. Second, in the branches of the tree, which we regularly climbed. We envisioned the separate living spaces and ‘fancy’ layout of our magical dream pad. Barbie’s dreamhouse paled in comparison. We couldn’t have been more than 4 or 5 years old.

Though we valiantly dug in that dirt, and gazed skyward, our outdoor living spaces never came to be.

Why our dreams fade

But we had the dream, and we stuck with it. In the end, someone likely told us the infeasibility of our plan and it faded out of our minds. Children dream big. They can see what adults view as impossible because they haven’t been conditioned to believe otherwise. With the intent of protecting our kids from the heartache of disappointment, we gently squash their plans and keep them safe.

Slowly, year by year, we’re guided to reduce risk. Gently nudged towards a mindset of certainty. I’ll raise my hand and acknowledge that’s where I landed, in the sea of certainty. Trained to consider risk and minimize it in my decision making. Though I’ve rebelled against that thought pattern in some respects, my athletic pursuits for example, I’m staunchly in the camp when it comes to decisions that involve my own entrepreneurial spirit and stepping to the side of a traditional career.

Whose voice is squashing your dreams?

During a meditation and mindfulness workshop this morning, it dawned on me that the frustration I felt about my glacial paced activity to grow different aspects of my career wasn’t frustration at all. At the root of it was the judgement I imputed upon myself. The voice in my head wasn’t my own, it was the voice of authority telling me how foolish it would be to branch out. To step into a space of trusting my intuition and having faith in the process. Judgement for stepping outside of certainty.

And it made me think about how often we kill our own dreams before they have a chance to fully develop. Before they are ready to fly. When we have uncertainty about the outcome the tendency is to revert to planning. To engineer the risk out of the dream, making it benign enough that the risks are minimal. We wait for unspoken permission to pursue our own dreams. We shift from big sky dreaming to vanilla…and not even Madagascar vanilla…boring, plain vanilla.

What’s the fun of that?

Making space for dreaming

Embracing Brené Brown’s Wholehearted Living Guidepost of letting go of certainty and embracing intuition and faith, touches more than one area of our lives. It permeates throughout. We are not meant to be kept on a shelf, wrapped up neat and tidy. Think about a dream of your own, one that you set aside because you had to be “responsible.” Or that was risky. What did you gain by postponing or dropping it? What would you have gained by pursuing it? And…if you pursued it and it didn’t work out, what’s the worst that would have happened?

Imagine you allowed yourself to play through a dream or desire that churns inside you. What would be different in your life a year from now? Don’t get stuck in how to get there, dream. Allow your mind to go to the natural conclusion. Once you have that dream fully formed? Do it. Seriously. Stay focused on the end goal and move forward, one step at a time. The truth is you might only know the first couple steps. That’s ok. Start there and the rest will unfold at the time it’s supposed to. Be open, be curious, trusting your intuition.

I believe in you. The voices that tell you otherwise can take a hike, they are not living your life. You can keep waking up each day with unlived dreams or you can embrace them. Give yourself permission to pursue your dreams! We’re on the journey together friends. Be brave.

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How to take off your masks

When I was a little girl, I wanted to be a doctor. Specifically, a baby doctor. Babysitter extraordinaire for my neighborhood, I could not get enough of the babies. At 14, the nuance that obstetrician also meant gynecologist, and that the only involvement with babies this girl would have was coming out, was lost on me. If my poor results in science classes hadn’t have dissuaded me from pursuing that passion, our current requirement to wear masks would have.

How doctors and nurses are wearing them all day long escapes me. I wear mine to the store and am half convinced I’m going to hyperventilate before I exit the produce aisle. If told I had to wear it continuously, I’d have to find a new profession. Which is why I will remain working at home as long as necessary to avoid donning my mask on a consistent basis.

You might be nodding along with me, high fiving me, yeah! Wearing a mask, while currently necessary in public, is not my dream come true.

So, why do we do it?

Why do we put forward a version of ourselves that guarantees belonging but is less than our true and authentic self? That is a mask. It’s not an act of deception, it’s an act of desperation. One we believe necessary. Because deep in our hearts, we’re afraid that if people saw who we really were, at our core, the messy, confused, questioning, silly, goofy self we are, they wouldn’t like us. If they saw that we aren’t convinced that what we’ve been told to believe our entire lives made sense, at least not 100% of it, we’d be out of the club.

And we desperately want to be part of the club.

We want to belong

As women, many of us are “faking it to protect our belonging,” according to Jen Hatmaker, and I agree. We don’t set out of wear a mask. It’s not one of the lessons we learn as a child. It’s not our heart to deceive anyone. But as we mature, we notice how people respond to us. We see what gains positive attention and what gains negative attention. We learn to fit in…to go along…to not make waves. And as we do, we’re slowly giving away parts of ourselves. Because the club…we think it’s everything.

The club wants to keep us as a member. They’ll double down if they see us start to ask questions. Or if we start to behave in a manner that isn’t ‘acceptable.’ “You’ve changed!” they cry, shaming us into circling back to our thoughts, our beliefs, our behaviors that fit in. And we do it. For a while. We continue wearing our mask, conforming, fitting in. Not voicing what the still small voice is telling us.

Healthcare workers on the front line have taken pictures showing the result of wearing their masks constantly. Marks, rashes, evidence of covering their face. Not dissimilar to what happens to our hearts, our inner self, our own souls, when we keep the mask on, covering who we are, it leaves a mark. Unlike healthcare workers, we have a choice, we can take off our mask.

What happens when the mask comes off

And it may very well have consequences. We need to re-navigate our relationships, some of which may not survive. When we step into our true selves, depending on the size of the step, we may lose relationships. Lose our club membership. But we maintain our integrity. If we continue to fake it, we will slowly be eaten up inside. I know, I’ve been there. I had simmering anger inside me that I couldn’t even name. Until I did. I had no other choice but to take off the mask. And it came with a high cost.

So, for you, what is the mask you’re wearing? Or better yet, what is your still small voice telling you? Has the time come that you listen? If it has, know that it is worth it. More than anything, it is worth it. To be at peace with yourself, with your integrity, it’s worth it. Know that you’re not alone on the journey, I’m right there with you. Be Brave.