Tag: Coaching

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How to listen when intuition nudges

I can be a little over the top when it comes to cleaning. Last week was no exception. Staring mindlessly at the carpet, vacuuming, and I notice the filter looks gunky when I emptied it. EW! Easy remedy, I’ll rinse it off in my tub. I take the first step with the filter in hand, and next thing I know, my forehead is hitting the door, breaking my fall. As I lay there, dazed, my immediate attention went to my recently operated on foot. Miraculously, as the ground quickly approached, I managed to instinctively protect it. Small miracles. But my head…I paid for that for a couple days with a headache, and a clean vacuum filter.

You’d think I’d be treading lightly after that, and I thought I was. Sunday night, I was doing at home physical therapy. Using an exercise band around my foot, flexing against it. La-de-da, two, three, four, SNAP! Band off my foot and before I even knew it, smacked it in the face. What lesson was I missing that twice I’d narrowly escaped death?? (ok, maybe not death, but come ON!)

A few days later, facilitating a class at work, resting my leg on a chair while folks got organized for an activity. I go to take a step forward. Yep, say it with me. My toe caught on the chair and down I went, face first, knee then foot, stretching it farther than I had since surgery. I jumped up, shaking it off like a soldier but inside feeling rattled for hours. Again, what the heck??

Life gives us lessons

Isn’t that the way life goes sometimes? In my case, I was earnestly trying to be ultra-careful and baby my foot while it recovered. Yet my stumbles were not little. I was reminded of something my great grandmother used to say. I was fortunate to have her until my late teens and she’d visit a couple times a year. She was well known for remarking, “If you don’t listen, you’re going to have to feel.” Reminiscent of the times she grew up in. The last week had given me my fair share of “feel.”

But what was the “listening” I was missing?

Setting aside my week of painful reminders that I’m still in recovery and need to slow down, what do we do when those repeated nudges keep coming up in our lives? Think about it, you’re in a season of asking God, the Divine, what exactly the discontent that rumbles around in you means. You’ve put it out there, asking for guidance. Maybe you find an interesting opportunity reading a magazine you’ve never picked up before. Or you meet someone who happens to be going down the same path you want to walk. You have lunch with a friend you haven’t seen in ages, and the conversation opens new doors.

Why listen to our nudges?

What do we do with those nudges? All too often, we give a cursory, “oh, that’s interesting,” and mosey on with our life. Um, hello God, the Divine, why aren’t you giving me the down low on what to do? Chances are, it already happened, but you were too busy and missed the sign.

So now you get to feel. Growing discontent. Stress. Your body telling you to wake up and pay attention. Ok, fine. I’m sitting down. Done feeling.

Every single one of us can choose to listen. Open up to the nudges we’re looking for coming from the most unexpected places. We have a choice. When a thought pops into your head and you think, “I’m not smart enough to have dreamed that up,” yeah, that’s a nudge. Trust it. The Divine ‘speaks’ to you in unconventional ways, so long as you’re paying attention. Your authentic self knows the way, because that wisdom, the nudges, they’ve been inside you percolating for years. Trust you. It’s our journey, friends, and I’m on it with you. Be brave.

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Following your inclinations

pro·cliv·i·ty /prōˈklivədē,prəˈklivədē/ a tendency to choose or do something regularly; an inclination or predisposition toward a particular thing.

Within the English language there are regular words and ten-dollar words. For reasons unbeknownst to me, my mind gravitates to ten-dollar words because, in that moment, they make the most sense. More than likely, it’s at work. Other times, they fit a scenario perfectly, as was the case early this week. In what seems to have become a daily phone call with my friend, I said, I think I have a proclivity to entropy. Her response? What are you talking about – or close to that – a bit saltier.

Reluctant to abandon not one but two ten-dollar words, I explained, I’m inclined to inaction. A surprise, I’m confident, to people who know me. It’s not that I am unable to get it done, whatever it, is. Instead, my initial response to a new direction, or change in my routine is to slowly grind to a halt. I procrastinate. I’ll talk all day long about the new thing, how great it will be, the depth of my desire to pursue it. All the while, using the time I should be working on the “thing” sitting around drinking green tea and watching Netflix. Once I kick it into gear, I’m going, but reaching that point? Procrastinate, delay, clean a cabinet, reorder my CD’s and DVD’s – wondering when I’ll actually cut the cord and get rid of them. There are endless options to distract you, without lifting a finger to look for them.

Inclined to… Since I gave you a definition, let’s try one more. Incline: feel willing or favorably disposed toward (an action, belief, or attitude). You’ll find several more in the dictionary, including an uphill, but let’s stay with number one for the moment.

Think back to a time when you felt willing or favorably disposed toward an action, belief or attitude. What did you do with the inclination? Did it float by like a cloud? Maybe you examined it from all sides, getting a close look. It may have been the subject of your Saturday morning coffee date. But what did you do with it? That’s a good question.

And the answer for a vast majority of us is, nothing. Entropy. Inaction. We’re inclined to move in a direction, pursue a dream, follow a calling, but that’s where it stops. The inclination might come up against a light breeze of resistance, that slight hill, and we decide it’s too much. Too risky. Too much work. Scandalous.

Instead of following the inclination, remaining curious, we behave as though we’re looking at the sheer granite face of El Capitan in Yosemite. We can’t possibly continue because it would cause disruption in our lives. Perhaps positive disruption, but disruption nonetheless. So, we stop. Leaving what might have been the next New York Times Bestseller rolling around in our mind. Or staying in a job because it’s paying our bills and provides benefits even though the alternative brought our soul alive. But it was unknown. We stay in the status quo.

The status quo is not where we’re meant to be. While not terrible, it can be a plateau. A place in our life that is “fine.” And fine is ok for a short term, but if we live there, what are we leaving on the table? What if, instead of staying in the status quo, we follow our inclination? We put aside the warnings of our friends or the naysayers (which likely speak to their fears, not ours) and we follow the breadcrumbs. Where would our inclinations lead us?

I’m willing to find out. My ‘proclivity towards entropy’ needs to step aside while I stay curious and follow what unfolds. How about you? Where in your life do you need to follow your inclination? Dream, and where your heart is leading you…give it a chance. You’ll be inclined love the journey.

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Life is not a dress rehearsal

Life that's waitingMy Dad has a saying he’s adopted as I’ve gotten older, “Life is not a dress rehearsal.” He encourages us to live full, engaged lives…to do our best. I remind myself of this reality on a regular basis. But it’s so easy to get tripped up along the way…sometimes I wonder if that’s what I’ve mastered…the misstep.

At an early age we begin asking children what they want to be when they grow up. As parents, we have our own dreams for our children which are most likely merely continuations of our own dreams. To have a son-in-law, daughter-in-law, grandchildren…our dreams, not necessarily our theirs.

The reality is that life rarely works out like we think it will. Ok, never. I’ll be bold and say never.

Life is messy. The so called “path” we travel down looks more like a game of Chutes and Ladders. You move forward, go back, slide down, unexpectedly move up…throw in a few more twists and turns…now you have a picture of what life is truly like.

So, if it’s not a dress rehearsal, what is the “play” we’re in? What if we complicate our outlook by holding on so tightly to the picture of what we thought life would look like that we can’t see the one that’s right in front of us? Or we continue to show up for a version of our life that is no longer working?

So…many…conflicting…thoughts.

We likely know when our lives are off track. If we don’t consciously know it, our bodies will begin to tell us. Stress compounds, aches, pains…for me, it’s my gut that talks to me. I can literally feel the stress “in the pit of my stomach.” You might have headaches, lose sleep, the disconnect makes itself known to our bodies faster than to our conscious minds. Pay attention.

Midlife has been the time when I’ve begun to see the disconnects. Realized that I’ve been stuck in dress rehearsal for too long. Which, on the one hand, keeps me safe…but I’m not fully engaged either. What makes me sad is knowing there are many others who are on the same trajectory.

Showing up for real life instead of a dress rehearsal requires us to let go of the disconnect. The dream that is not the reality of our life. The vision of how we thought life would be. There’s a grieving that comes along with that. Letting go. Grieving whatever the loss is for you, because it’s different for each of us.

When you shift your perspective, see where you’re holding on to a dream that no longer serves you, or that’s changed, you can show up for the life you’re creating today. What you’re letting go wasn’t wasted, it shaped you into who you are today, but you’ve outgrown it. When you show up for your life today, show up fully. Embrace the opportunities, the realities open to you once you let go and begin gazing upon what’s unfolding before your eyes. It’s our journey friends, you’re not alone.

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Making hard choices

Arizona SandalsI have a love/hate relationship with shoes. On the one hand, love…so much. My go to these days are fashion sneakers and sandals, flats of any nature are my jam. But the Arizona Birkenstock sandal and I, there’s something special there. That shoe, I swear, it courted me. Wooed me. Five years ago I would have said it was the shoe of the hippie, today, not only are they fashionable, but there is more than an outside chance the hippie in the room is me, thank you very much.

Shoes have never been a slam dunk for me. There is a qualifying process I go through because of my prosthetic foot. Heels are out. Granted, I have an alternative foot that looks like a Barbie foot, but I rarely wear it, comfort prevails these days. And because I have no ankle flexion, nor grip in my toes, shoes practically have to be attached to my foot to stay on. Last year though, I entered new territory when I got a foot with a split toe. Yes, just as you imagine, the big toe is separated from the rest. So what you might ask?

Flip flops. No joke. I can now wear flip flops because I have the split toe. A whole new category of shoes available to me which I took full advantage of. I purchased my first Birkenstock’s last year, the split toe sandals, loved them so much I bought two colors! So, this year, when the Arizona started speaking to me, I thought our time had come. I had surprising success with the others, maybe they would work.

They did not.

Within twenty minutes I walked out of them, the toe grip was critical, I learned. And if I’m honest, I saw it coming. I’ve never had luck with the pure “slide” sandals.

But I really wanted them. I bargained with myself that maybe they’d work. I could tighten the straps, walk carefully, take my time. When I finally resigned myself to return them, I was sad, I had to acknowledge that, in fact, the same conditions that had always been there with my foot remained.

As I thought about my short affair with the Arizona sandal, a broader picture opened before me.

I thought about relationships, at work, personally, where I have invested, committed, desiring them to work out while knowing deep in my heart they would not. Yet, I persisted. It happens with a wide variety of choices in our lives. We go down a path believing it’s where we’re supposed to be only to discover something else. But we’re committed.

And we want it to work, to affirm for ourselves that we’ve made the right choice, chosen the right path. We bargain, we change ourselves to fit, we ignore the pain points telling us it’s time to step away and somewhere in that process, we begin to lose ourselves. Become someone different to make the situation work.

It’s incredibly hard to instead realize we’re on the wrong path, in a relationship, or job, or pursuit that isn’t working, and isn’t going to work. It’s not as easy as returning a pair of shoes (which wasn’t easy – I loved those shoes!). It’s an act of courage to be clear about the situation, who you are and what isn’t working. To come to terms with the fact that what may have been right before isn’t anymore.

And, to be clear, the majority of situations, relationships, aren’t going to magically resolve themselves. When it’s time to make a change, you can try bargaining your way out of it, and short term it might work, but not in the long run. When the shoe isn’t fitting right, you need to take action.

If you’re thinking about your own “pair of shoes” that doesn’t fit, what are you going to do about it? What courageous step do you need to take? It can be hard, honestly, it can suck, but if you want to live an authentic, bold life, you can take the step. Have a conversation, realize a path you’re on isn’t working. Find someone you trust and talk it through. At the end of the day, only you know what fits and what doesn’t. And that makes you the person who can make the shift that can change the direction of your life.

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Being Brave Sooner

Be Brave SoonerThe call you never expect, news you can’t believe but which sinks in slowly over time. A couple of weeks ago, I received one of those calls at work. A co-worker and friend had passed away unexpectedly, at what I consider a young age, 62. The pain that rippled through my workplace in the following days was palpable as we shared in fond memories and sadness.

Yesterday we concluded that chapter with a Celebration of Life. As people shared fond memories of a man who lived a full life, I thought about my own. Which, I think, is not an atypical thought process. As we remember others, we ponder how we would be remembered. Who would show up to celebrate our life? It’s not reflection for the sake of a popularity contest, for me, it’s wondering about the positive impact I’ve been able to have on other’s lives.

Not the first time I’ve gone down this path. Reaching midlife also prompts reflection on the impact we’ve had. It’s not as much about my own experiences as those I’ve shared. The people I’ve engaged with throughout my life. How I’ve shown up.

Coming on the heels of being at Dare to Lead™ facilitator training this week, a theme continues to bubble up for me.

Be Brave Sooner

I have a heightened awareness that I’ve lived a safe life. One that minimizes risk of failure. One where there is a built-in back-up plan. I prepare for disappointment which keeps me safe but keeps me small. A couple years ago, I made my word for the year Brave. And I was. I took chances, spoke up, leaned in. But somewhere along the way, I dialed it back. I started playing it safe again.

Normal, I think, to ebb and flow in life, but when being brave started slipping from my grasp, I could see the ripples in the way I showed up in life. The decisions, the way I engaged. Safe. When we’re brave, we have honest conversations, we speak up, we’re vulnerable and courageous.

Perfectly summed up in one of the slides from training.

“You can’t get to courage without rumbling with vulnerability – Embrace the suck”

100% get that. Vulnerability can be hard. It’s part of being brave, but it does suck at times. It’s hard. You can’t phone in being brave, being courageous. It’s a step by step process of being vulnerable. That doesn’t mean doing the verbal vomit with every single person you know. It’s being vulnerable with those you do life with, the people that matter. Stepping into uncertainty and being real instead of the polished façade.

Making brave, courageous choices in the way we engage is what leads to a celebration of life. Playing it safe may feel great in the moment but leaves a small footprint. Wouldn’t you choose to look back on life and know that you were brave, courageous, lived fully and engaged with others? It’s a choice. It takes practice. You can do it. Be Brave Sooner.

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Pay attention – it’s your life

ER - InferiorIt kept coming up in my Instagram feed, Abby Wambach’s book Wolfpack, so I put it on my reading list and powered through this week. It’s an easy quick read, targeted to women, reminding us of what we know but forget. And then I ran across the quote from Eleanor Roosevelt a couple days later, “No one can make you feel inferior without your permission.” The combined wisdom triggered something inside me and has stuck around.

Abby’s book – cause yeah, I decided I’m on first name terms with her now – laid out 8 rules for women to follow. Only 8! Easy. What I noticed as I read through them is they challenge the traditional model of women relegated to the sidelines. The model that’s been propagated for centuries at this point. What I wonder is why we have a model to challenge at all? People, men and women are created differently, with different strengths, some of which are overlapping, some of which are complementary. What that doesn’t mean is that women are ‘less than.’ We’re not. In the Bible, women like Esther, Rahab, Hagar, Mary Magdeline. Brave, courageous roles. They navigated their circumstances with grace, in their unique way. Just like strong women throughout history. The created their own path – number one on Abby’s list. It’s easy to sit back and wait for someone else to tell us our path, to give us permission. But it’s our job to paint our own path.

I’ve noticed, though, that sometimes we don’t know what we want to do – or at least that’s what we think. We’ve spent so many years deferring that when it comes to making our own decisions, making up our own mind, it feels counter intuitive. We need to believe in ourselves (thanks for #6 – Abby). We are created uniquely and with God given talents. Imagine what it would be like for you to try and tell someone who desires to be a racecar driver what their life should be like, their path? How could you even? You don’t (or maybe you do) have that passion, those desires and needs. You’d send them down a side path, most likely. It’s not different when we relegate our lives decisions to another person. They’re not sitting in our shoes, don’t have our experiences or desires. They can consult with us, give advice or input, but ultimately, we need to believe in ourselves and get in the game. Take the ball, as Abby wrote, and run with it.

‘Failure means you’re finally IN the game,’ number 4. Boy howdy do I get this one. I’ve read before about the idea of failing forward. Learning from failure and using it to propel you forward. It’s virtually impossible to design a life with no failure. Believe me, I’ve tried. And I’ve failed, over and over again. Instead of being curious about failure, it has the tendency to break us down, to make us question ourselves. But we can use it. Abby talks about the shift from seeing failure as our destruction and instead start using it as fuel. Failure doesn’t mean we’re out of the game, it’s means try again, try something different. It’s inevitable that we’ll fail in life, what we do faced with those circumstances is what defines us.

As I reflected on the reminders in Wolfpack, the idea that took shape in my mind was that we’re not supposed to wait for someone else to tell us what we should be doing or who we are, we need to figure that out ourselves. But we don’t have to do it alone. We have our people. Our pack. End of the day though, there are decisions to make, paths to map out and that’s our job. If we fail, we fail…there’s virtually nothing that you can’t recover from. It might suck for a while, but you will recover. What you won’t recover from is giving away your passions and dreams hoping someone else will tell you what to do with them. It’s not going to happen. Don’t be afraid to try, to ‘get in the game.’

You’re supposed to be here, this moment, remember that truth. Your impact in your own life and on those around you is meaningful. You’re doing what you’re supposed to be doing and life like you believe it.

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Lean in to glory

Who we areI was born with a known problem in the way blood flowed to my left foot. Basically, I had too much blood in my foot (fancy medical term… arterial venous fistula) and by the time I was three months old, the doctors had told my parents that I would have to have it amputated, which happened when I was four. I don’t spend a lot of time talking to my parents about it, but there have been moments. One aspect that has stuck with me is that my mother has told me that there were people in her life who told her that my birth defect was a result of some sin she must have committed.

At the time of the conversation, I remember thinking that was a bunch of baloney, and I haven’t spent time thinking about it. Until the other day when I read this passage in the book of John.

John 9: 1-3: As he went along, he saw a man blind from birth. His disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” Neither this man nor his parents sinned,” said Jesus, “but this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him.”

As I read it, I found myself connected to the words in a new way. I’m not of the mindset that people are sinning, doing wrong, constantly. I don’t believe my mother, or anyone, committed a sin and that God thought, “yeah, I’ll show them for that one.” I just don’t. I believe people want to do their best. Are we a hot mess on any given day, yes. Do we struggle with issues defined as sin, yes. But I simply believe the vast majority of people wake up each day, and strive to do good, not sin. So I connected to the shift. Did you catch it?

Instead of focusing on a sin, Jesus looked at the man and healed his blindness. He focused on the glory in the healing.

Here’s how the rabbit trail connected to me as I read those words. I was born with a condition which put me in a unique position to God’s unique works in me. Because, after my foot was amputation, it was essentially back to business as usual. Meaning, I grew up doing normal kid things. I learned how to ride a bike, ski, hike, ride a horse, dance (albeit poorly) … with my prosthetic leg. But as I got older, particularly when I was cycling avidly, I noticed that people would make comments to me. Encouragement. When I was racing triathlons, people would tell me I encouraged them being out there. It seemed so weird to me. Truly. I was just doing my thing. But I thought about it. And I began to see that maybe God was working through me, encouraging other people to try, because that’s what I was doing, trying.

Because I was simply born this way. It wasn’t the result of anything but the way I was formed in my mother’s womb. The same way my own children were formed in my womb. They were each born uniquely. Born the way they are, the way God made them, perfectly. And I believe there is glory being worked in and through each one of them.

Just as there is glory being worked through you. If we put limits on it, thinking there is some sin, or some barrier to the glory, we’re not living our full life. Lean in to the glory working in you, through you. Every single one of you, and know it’s all part of the plan.

 

 

 

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Be Still

Be StillI recall a time when I could not be in my house without having noise. Usually, I’d come home from work and turn the television on. Not to watch it, but to have the background noise. To have silence felt deafening and uncomfortable. Uncomfortable with my own thoughts, which could simultaneously be headed in a hundred different directions and reminding me of the ways I needed to do better, do more. I can recall visiting my mom’s house and there was no television, no music, nothing. Silence. It felt oppressive.

Over time, the balance has shifted and now, my preference is quiet. In a way, it’s a chance for my mind to stop being over stimulated. Which, let’s be honest, happens to each of us every single day. If we’re not listening to something, we’re viewing. Our phones provide non-stop entertainment and options. Literally, every second we’re awake we can be occupied somewhere other than within our own mind.

There are days where that’s honestly the preferred alternative. Our thoughts meander in a million directions and being alone with ourselves can be intimidating.

But…

The advantages to being still are immense. Consider a few: increased immune function; lowered blood pressure; lowered heart rate; increased awareness; increased attention and focus; increased clarity in thinking and perception; lowered anxiety levels, the list goes on. If we know the benefits are there, why are so many of us resistant? Seriously, I desire to be still, to be mindful, but I have to consciously focus to simply eat breakfast without simultaneously checking my email. Mind you, not if someone is sitting across from me, but if I’m alone, multi-task is the name of the game.

Except that multitasking is a scam. Held out as a skill, it’s virtually impossible to effectively multi-task. Our attention is not fully with either task, not our best work. So why do so many of us continue to juggle so many balls in the air? Wouldn’t it be better if we narrowed in on one thing at a time?

Be still. Several times within the Bible we’re told to Be Still. It’s as though we’re being told to ‘take a breath,’ ‘slow down,’ a command to remind us that God’s got us. If we don’t take time to be still, we miss that. Our own thoughts, activities, drown out the inner stillness that comes from being alone with God. Alone with ourselves. With our dreams, with our desires. We miss connecting with that part of ourselves because we’re busy. Miss the still small voice of God because we’re busy all…the…time.

Over the last few years, I’ve consciously begun practicing stillness. And you know what? I love it. Love being alone with myself. Not because I don’t want to be with other people, but because I like being alone. Later today, I’m headed to a one-day women’s retreat held a few hours from my home. I chose to come over a day early so that I could have alone time. Could take a breath and be still. I’ve gone away for an alone weekend each year for the last few and have found it restorative. It’s becoming easier each year to not overpack the time. And as much as I’d like to relax at home, and I do, it’s not the same. When I’m away, it’s out of my environment. There are no floors to mop, dishes to clean. The regular distractions are removed.

Later today I’ll connect with other women, but last night and at the moment, I’m in the presence of no one I know. Other than ordering coffee, because…honestly…coffee is necessary…I haven’t talked to anyone today. It’s a chance to take a breath. Slow down and be alone with me, with God. I find clarity in the stillness because the cobwebs in my head are brushed away.

If you haven’t incorporated a practice in your life to be still, to silence your mind for moments during the day, try it. It can be as simple as focusing on a word, saying it silently to yourself as you breath slowly and close your eyes. Or it can be focusing on a symbol an object you love and letting your eyes rest on it, breathing in the beauty. Being still. Each of us could afford a few moments in the day to be still and connect with ourselves. You’ll find when you do, the inner connection will carry with you through the day. Take a breath friends, listen to the still small voice and know, you’ve got this.

 

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Learning to say No

no is completeLast month, I was part of an event with the Willow Creek Association. During the one-day event, 7 segments were recorded, different facets addressing abuse and harassment within the church. On Thursday, I received the recording of my portion, in which I gave practical advice for preventing harassment within the workplace.

I was specifically asked to review it and give feedback on any changes prior to the release to over 800 churches and non-profits this week. I felt my stomach knot up, major cringing. Let’s get real here. I was confident about the content, but it meant I had to watch myself, for thirty minutes! In normal circumstances, that’s a hard pass, but I had no choice.

So, I watched it. And I didn’t die. In reality, I was surprised, encouraged even. Speaking in front of people isn’t a challenge for me, it was having to watch myself that was a nightmare.

My favorite part was during the Q&A at the end where our host, Liz, asked me questions from the audience. In response to one of her questions, I simply said “No.” Of course, after a beat I added more, but the simple answer was no. Honestly, I burst out laughing watching it, I don’t know why it tickled me so much, but it did.

And I was thinking about that answer this morning, reminded that, in fact, “No.” is a complete sentence. We share an inherent tendency to add more, as though explaining our No, is a requirement. It’s not. And it’s that word that we need as we discern our way through our own lives.

It’s beyond easy to say yes, constantly, and find ourselves entrenched with more on our plate than is reasonable. I listen to the “For the Love” podcast with Jen Hatmaker and on this week’s episode, she interviewed Emily Ley, an author and creator of The Simplified Planner! At one point, Emily was talking about the process of simplifying her closet and how hard it is to let go of what no longer serves you. My ears perked up because since I started watching The Art of Tidying Up with Marie Kondo on Netflix, I’ve been one step away from using her method. But the mere thought of piling all my clothes on the floor and holding each one to determine if it brings me joy…brings me no joy. Anxiety is what it brings me.

Emily shared that she has someone in her life, a helper, who is her “No mentor.”

Ok, wait, she’s on to something. A “No mentor?” Think about it. You have someone who you trust, but who has no attachment to your stuff. Whether it be your clothes, your interests, your pursuits… someone who is objective. She explained that she calls her No Mentor when she’s, for example, weighing two career opportunities. Her mentor can remind her of the path she’s on, and of what aligns with that. And as a bonus, can help in the closet.

I 100% love this idea. Not only for my closet, but to sort through the wide variety of topics that pull at my attention. Life truly is a balance of holding on and letting go. If we hold on to everything, it becomes unmanageable to pursue the important areas well, the areas that bring us the most joy and allow us to maximize sharing our gifts with others.

While I don’t have a No Mentor (but am going to think more about that idea), I think being able to prioritize for our self is an important skill. Like any skill, you must practice, but it can be improved. Maybe my amusement watching myself give a simple No was simply because I had actually let No being the answer for once.

Is there somewhere, something you need to let go of to focus on the right thing? Where  can you say no – without any further explanation – to an ask, a path or choice or relationship that no longer serves you? It’s an act of self-love to prioritize and preserve yourself, your time, your energy. It’s bold – and I’m all about being bold this year. So, without fear or remorse, where do you need to say No today? Do it, and remember, you’re loving yourself in the process.

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Preparing for Christmas

Christmas PrepOver Thanksgiving, I was visiting family in Florida and over the weekend, we started the process of decorating the house. More like, it was our job to bring the decorations and tree up from downstairs in preparation for my stepmother’s decorating extravaganza. By the time she’s done, the house will be photo shoot ready – Christmas coming out of every nook and cranny in an explosion of holiday cheer. H Her decorations are elaborate and worthy of many Pinterest holiday inspiration posts.

And then there’s my house. For the past few years, if I get a tree up at all, it’s a miracle. I want to, but then I don’t, and I procrastinate. But this year, I am patting myself on the back that my Christmas tree is up and decorated earlier than ever. The house is getting close to done, yet…not Christmas home tour worthy, the tree is up, lights are on the outside of the house (thanks to my hubby), and there’s only a small explosion of decorations lying in my living room. I already have Christmas cards in the mail and most of my shopping done. I’m honestly not quite sure how I made so much progress so early. I must be missing something…

We often get so caught up in decorating, and parties, and the cookies, oh…the cookies, that we lose sight that Christmas is a time to come together as families. One of the challenges that comes with adulting is splitting up time so that you can spend the maximum time with the maximum number of people. This is not a new challenge for me. My parents split up when I was young and hence I began the balancing act at holidays.

All in all, we balanced the holidays well, but it always involved a back and forth. Now that I’m a grown adult, with full grown adult children, the balance becomes like a Jenga game. I will say that their father and I have navigated sharing the kids on the holidays well, but what would they say? One of my boys is not a fan of the juggle. I get it. In an ideal world, it would be easier if everyone were in one spot, at least one city. But even when they are, there’s still a mad dash. Breakfast here, dinner there…if we’re not careful we start to lose the point.

Which is connection. Maybe a different way to look at where you spend your holiday time is, who do you want to connect with? Do you want Christmas to be a logistical nightmare, or do you want to connect to your people. For some of us, that’ll be family, for others, it’ll be close friends. Whoever it is, the connection is what matters. Not having a perfectly decorated house or making an amazing meal – although food is always a plus – it’s about the time spent together.

Who will you connect with this Christmas? How can you make a choice to dial down the crazy in exchange for peace and heart connections? Will you create your own traditions that create peaceful celebrations and a time to reflect on why we celebrate Christmas in the first place, Jesus. Because if you could ask Him, I’m certain He would want us to have connection and love for each other this Christmas. If we focus on that, the rest of the details will fall into place.