Tag: life coaching

Posted on

Unpacking life, box by box by box

Weeks before moving across the country, thoughts of packing my life into boxes engulfed every portion of my mind. I’d wake in the middle of the night playing Tetris, packing version, in my mind. Thinking about which small piece would fill this mostly full box. And one day, after toiling away at it for untold hours, it was done. Everything packed, at least everything I wanted to transport to the next phase. After saying goodbye to the moving truck and meandering my way across the country, here I am. Unpacking life I tenderly packed up and brought with me.

Life that’s in a box

Whose life can honestly be placed in a box? That’s the reality. We pack things in a box. Silverware, dishes, books, books and more books, clothes, décor, my grandma’s Kitchen Aid mixer and china, pictures…the deeper you go, the closer to your heart the contents become. I have boxes of pictures because, well, back in the day…when you actually clicked a picture and didn’t know how it would turn out until developed…I captured my children’s youth.

And still, these are things. Things with memories attached. Or maybe better, they’re things that spark memories. Making the event return to life. Triggering the emotions and feelings that surrounded the origin. What’s within the boxes is the evidence of the string of events that comprise our lives.

Unpacking life, over and over

Therapy. That was the first place I unpacked life. Upon entering the middle phase of life, I found myself swirling with emotion.  It may have been all the hormones shifting in my body, or my ovaries deciding it was time to rid themselves of all the eggs, but the culmination was tears and emotions I was ill-equipped to navigate. I found myself sitting on the proverbial couch for months.

Making sense of the fragments of my life, the ones that resisted moving forward smoothly, that caused jagged edges. Unpacking our lives can be a fragile process and one which is best navigated with the assistance of a professional. Or as I like to call my past therapists, a paid friend.

Close to one hundred boxes of life to sort through solo? A daunting task. Yet what do you do except dive in? There is no other way but forward. With boxes and with your life.

Different but the same

Despite the fact that moving involves boxes and packages and things, unpacking evokes similar emotions to therapy. A fact that goes unacknowledged in moving guides you find online, or in the numerous blogs providing ‘Best tips for a smooth move.’ Not even a week into it, emotions flooded me the other day. Overwhelmed by the sheer number of decisions, Tetris in reverse.

Unpacking life requires decision after decision to determine where all those things belong. Where they fit. Revisiting the decisions to carry forward items in your new life, navigated without the help of your paid friend. While packing is an emotional journey in and of itself, unpacking may be the harder task.

You get to choose what carries forward. Only you. The things are simply that, things. The overwhelm? Part of the process I’ve decided. Your life is laid out in front of you ready to re-launch. It’s your move.

Truly, it’s your move

Metaphorically and IRL. In real life, the move is physical. You experience it physically. New surroundings, rooms and hiding places. Metaphorically, you’ve provided distance. In my last moments standing in my empty home of nine years in California, I pondered the life I’d lived there. If those walls could talk…I said a silent goodbye to that phase.

What carries forward is entirely up to you, to me. The memories, the decisions, who I am, I am the only one deciding what resurfaces. As I think about it, all of life is like one big move. Whether physical or not, you’re in charge of what comes forward. You can recreate your life over and over. You can. It’s your move.

As for me? Well, you’ll have to stay tuned. I’m still unpacking.

Posted on

No really – I want to be in the moment

Me: Siting down to write, my monitor and any available real estate on my desk is littered with post-it notes. Specific, random, undecipherable…all pointing me to activities beckoning me that I’m inclined to forget. Also me: Focusing on being ‘in the moment,’ while swimming this morning, mindful. But in real life, playing through the entirety of the next month in my head (which was not entirely unproductive, I realized I forgot my wallet at home…hassle). But what I really want is to be in the moment

Goal 1- Mindfulness

For the loving life of me, for all the books, all the classes, all the meditations…mindfulness – truly staying in the moment – is akin to balancing on a tightrope. Wobbling every which way but ultimately, back on the ground again. Defined, mindfulness is a state of active, open attention to the present. It’s where you observe your own thoughts and feelings without defining them as good or bad. And truthfully, being mindful should be less work than the endless tasks in my head, but…I struggle.

Because life. And because I am a woman. I do not say this from a victim, or feminist perspective, but it is a fact that women carry a greater mental load than men. Why? Let’s consider an ordinary day. Women get up, in my case – work out, return home, empty the dishwasher, make coffee, get ready for work – endeavor at our 8-5 throughout the day, come home aka, walk into the other room, make dinner, clean up, straighten, mentally place items on a grocery list, unconsciously scan the room looking for what needs to be picked up, pick up, consider what’s coming on the horizon to prepare for, make a note, maybe read a little, watch some TV, get ready and go to bed so that I can work in my sleep.

What do men do? There are parallels, but the list generally ends at come home.

I do not exaggerate. Do you see why staying in the moment eludes me?

Goal 2- Reduce my mental load

In their riveting book Burnout – Unlocking the Stress Cycle, Emily and Amelia Nagoski talk about the different pressures on women. Unwritten rules add to our load disproportionately. We, by nature or through learning, manage the mental load of keeping up a home. While we may share functions with a partner, chances are we are the ones carrying the mental load. I know it’s part of my wiring. Flat out.

Moms have eyes in the back of their heads. Not a children’s story. And on both sides of our heads because we’re always scanning. Noticing. I’ve received more than one comment that I’m nitpicking by noticing the fuzz scattered around the floor, remnants of guts from inside our pup’s toys. Which, apparently, are purely for the purpose of being torn apart.

The post-it notes are an attempt to get the things out of my head.

Goal 3- F’real, Mindfulness

Ok but really, I genuinely desire to increase time spent in the moment and reduce the mental load. Being in the moment is more than physicality. Its not mentally wandering off, 10 steps ahead in our minds. Its slowing down and knowing that the moment will not repeat itself, breathing into the space. Noticing what surrounds us. Resisting creation of yet another post-it.

Remaining in that space creates clarity and focus. It’s not a ‘waste of time.’

Which means I can’t narrate life as I go either. Literally, I consider what I’d write about each situation. How to work it into a story, or on to these pages. A practice to reimagine and not allow to overshadow the moment surrounding me.

End of goals

I would be remiss not to return to my post-it notes, my helpers, my friends. Though they remain a visual reminder of tasks to be accomplished. They’re also a means by which I remove the thoughts from my mental space. Creating room to be in the moment. Absurd as it may sound, it works. Clearly not as well as I’d hoped, but baby steps…baby steps.

My question for you is: Are you living in the moment? If you are, I have two follow up questions. What is your secret? And…Are you lying? Because who does that consistently?!? If you find yourself like me, well, let’s say we’re in good company because I believe it’s a safe guess that 75% or more of us are striving towards being in the moment. Embracing our present over sculpting our future.

Today, for one day, one hour, one minute, what would be different if you remained in the moment? Mindful of yourself and your surroundings? Are you willing to give it a go? I think we both should. Our brave, authentic, wholehearted, daring life is before us, if only we stop long enough to notice it. It’s our journey friends. I’m on the path with you. Lisa

Posted on

Why change is hard

change

Did you ever see the movie We bought a zoo? Yeah, me neither. Yet, it was the first thing that came to mind after I did a thing this week. I bought a house…in another state…sight unseen (I had a proxy)…on the other side of the country. Am I excited? Yes. Am I terrified? Yes. I am all the things. Lest you think I’ve lost my marbles; the purchase wasn’t entirely out of the blue. I’d been contemplating making a move because the bulk of my family is across the country, but the timing was ‘out there.’ And, the move won’t only be in my residence. All changes I desired. So, why did it feel like I’d swallowed wrong and was choking? Because change is hard.

Why change is hard

It is. Change rarely rises to the top of anyone’s bucket list, and with good reason. When we go through change, whether it be in our personal lives, as an organization, or our thinking around a long held believe, we’re leaving something behind. We allow a process, a relationship, a practice, a belief to die. Although our destination is positive, it doesn’t diminish the fact that we’re leaving something, and that thing may be one we treasured.

When I make a significant change, my inner voice begs me to return to the old way. Because many of us, myself included, are creatures of habit. We might park in the same place, eat at the same restaurants, order the same food, drive the same way to work according to our habit. Introduce a new variable and it throws us off our game. Our internal memory craves to return to the old way. I use the word discombobulated to describe the feeling inside when parts of my world in a flux, in the midst of change. I desire to restore order. But that may not be what is best.

Change is well studied

Google wouldn’t pull up 5,370,000,000 results (literally) when I type in change if it were a well-oiled machine. People are continuously working to process improve it and producing models for how to do it well.  As defined by Meriam Webster, change is a verb with a variety of applications:

1a: to make different in some particular; b: to make radically different; c: to give a different position, course, or direction

2a: to replace with another; b: to make a shift from one to another; c: to exchange for an equivalent sum of money; d: to undergo a modification; e: to put fresh clothes or covering on

Nearly every single definition applies to my situation. Not even kidding. Words like ‘radically’ land with me because that’s what change can feel like.

Because change is hard, you can find 8 models for change in a 2 second internet search. One I’m partial to is by Kurt Lewin which has 3 phases: Unfreeze, Change, Refreeze. Unfreeze challenges the way things are done; in Change we look for new ways to do things; and, our change takes hold in Refreeze. A similar process is Form, Storm, Norm, Perform. You create, brainstorm ideas, create new standards and processes and finally, perform.  We transform through the change process over and over in our personal and professional lives.

Why some change feels harder

Despite, or maybe, in spite, of our regular journey through change, some are markedly harder than others. When we change, in the words of the Brady’s…you’ve got to rearrange. Buying a zoo, er…house across the country, isn’t the only change I’m making. For the past four years, I’ve wrestled with the direction of my career. After 30 years in the same field, I’ve been itching to transition into a new capacity. Specifically, coaching. I became a certified coach and operate a side business. But without full attention, the side business hasn’t gained traction.

I’d ruminate about leaving my job and branching out on my own. I’ve worked since I was 13 years old but always for someone else, which brings stability. On my own? That’s a white knuckled drive on a snowy mountain road. But, early in 2020, after rolling it around in my head for 3 years, I was ready. Ready to make a plan that is.

And, as fate would have it (as fate does), a friend from my coaching program asked if I wanted to start a business with her. Since that phone call in the Spring of 2020, we’ve formed a company, Wayfinders Talent, and are in the form/storm phase. We’ll be coaching leaders to bring out the best performance in themselves and others. It’s the culmination of several years of unfreezing.

Once you decide to change, then what?

Which means I’m transitioning out of my day job. Slowly at first, but eventually it will be time. I’m not exactly sure when, but it will be time. Akin to buying a home across the country, I’m excited and terrified at the same time about the transition. I’ll leave stellar people behind and that part of change is never easy. But I’ll be building a new business that will change lives.

Given that I am in the ‘creature of habit’ camp, I want to know what’s next. Biologically, our brains want to know how the story ends and change doesn’t always afford that. Again, change is hard. Does that produce stress in me? Yes. It would for anyone who’s similarly situated. I have to remind myself of what Glennon Doyle write in Untamed, “we can do hard things.” The only way we can get through change is…to change. I hope you’ll stick around for the white knuckled journey and consider what changes you’re making, or need to be made, in your own life. It may be hard, but it may be time. You’ll know if it is in your gut. I did. Be brave my friends. Lisa

Posted on

Why live your life with a daring spirit?

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

Why choose daring?

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

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

Mary Oliver – The Summer Day

Live for today

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

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

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

Living a daring life

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

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

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

Posted on

Why is change so difficult?

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

Change has been with us since the beginning

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

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

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

The devil you know

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

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

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

We must choose to take the first step

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

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

It’s not easy, but worth it

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

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

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

Posted on

Why empathy is essential to daring

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

The idea kept rolling around in my head

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

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

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

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

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

Empathy as a way of life

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

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

Lead with empathy

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

Posted on

Do you want to be well?

I’ve had a migraine for 3 days…and I’ll probably have it another 10. The migraines I experience are food triggered and although I do my absolute best to avoid the deadly culprits, I had a salad this week. Without fully thinking it through I ate the delicious take-out creation and upon finishing it realized the dressing likely had red wine vinegar. Dastardly. You see, alcohol in any and all forms, triggers the migraine.

It was said to me (and has been said before) “you should be more careful.” To which, I want to scream. This zero-conflict Enneagram 9 wants to lash out. Because in absolutely zero way do I want the migraines. They are level 10 awful. I AM careful. Yet mistakes still happen.

Is it “mine” or simply “the” [fill in the blank]

Earlier in the week as the headache was curling up with a good book and tea in my head, settling in for the long haul, calling a few buddies over, I thought about the notion of referring to it as ‘my migraine.’ I remember reading in a holistic health guide (or read on the internet…who knows anymore), that one should avoid personalizing a health challenge. The concept, which I think is valid, is that personalization embeds the symptoms, the diagnosis, into our bodies.

I’ve thought about this idea in combination with a sermon I heard years ago entitled, “Do you want to be well?” The degree to which we personalize our medical problems, as a for example, they become our identity. In our minds and narrative, we are the person with…migraines, fibromyalgia, cancer, arthritis, extra weight, thinning hair…not all of those are mine, I borrowed, but fill in your own. But a few of them are and when we identify with a hinderance, are we not further hindering ourselves? Could we just as easily be the person who is filled with joy, gratitude, beautiful hair, a positive body image at any size and whatever positive characteristic people ascribe to us that we ignore?

Why we hold on to what we’re fighting

Yes, we could. Yet… There’s something we get from being the person with the affliction when we’re including it in our narrative. We allow it to hold us back, or use it to explain X, Y or Z.

Do we want to be well?

These thoughts flooded my mind this week as the U.S. watched the presidential election play out. I’m thrilled we can now exhale from this week. But all week, the negative narrative associated with the entire race continued. The fight. And I thought for a moment, “Do we want to be well?” Is our country so engrained in the fight that we’d rather stay in that space than move towards a peaceful existence? What are we gaining from ‘the fight’?

And believe me, I’m not naively espousing the idea that there is nothing to fight for. There are groups of people who continue to this day to be treated as if they were less than. Our BIPOC brothers and sisters, our LGBTQ+ brothers and sisters, the marginalized groups who we deserve protection and equality because of the sheer fact that they are human beings. To correct the injustices that many have faced, we have that responsibility.

What would it look like to be well?

But do we want to be well? It seems that many identify with the fight more than what is being fought for. A broad statement? Maybe. But what would it look like to associate less with the fight and more with the desired outcome? Being for equality instead of fighting against injustice. That’s a much different mindset. How would our collective lives change if we shifted the narrative to being well instead of fighting the illness? And I do think the racial and LGBTQ+ inequity in the nation is an illness. But how would it be different?

I, for one, don’t have an answer. But I’m thinking about it. As we emerge from the election battle, could we shift to a unified country who is for equality? Who acts from that mindset? The choice is truly individual, do you want to be well or are you the illness? Brave choices ahead for us my loves. I hope that we will be well. Lisa

Posted on

A better way to experience the let-down

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

The calm after the storm

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

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

How else could we look at it?

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

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

We’re shifting

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

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

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

Posted on

We need to find our own play

Well established at this point is the fact that play is not a part of my regular jam. But October…it makes me want to play all month. Because it’s my birthday. This blog is being published…on my birthday. And if there is no other time than that once a year, it calls for time in play. There are good reasons we need play every day, but it looks differently through the years. We need to find our own play.

It starts young

As a mother myself, I remember the birthday parties I’d plan for my boys. Maybe it was my own penchant for crafts, but usually there was some form of creation as part of the event. We made the cups you color on and bake in the oven to set – a throwback to the plates we used to color and bake. My younger son is a December baby, so one year it was Christmas stockings. There was always cake, the universal sign that it’s your birthday, presents, balloons, and their friends.

I don’t remember my own early soirees, but the days of slumber parties, who could forget that?!? In hindsight, they were little more than a tween’s nightmare. Started off innocently enough, but soon you realized the girls who were farther along in puberty, e.g. generally cooler, and those who were not and hence, not as popular, aka, me. That’s not a sob story, I had plenty of good times, but was the B tier. You know what I mean, the ones who weren’t the most popular, but was friendly with those people. Not the class president, the class secretary…or treasurer.

But those parties were also a source of play. We had games, absurd and not. There were movies and lengthy discussions of boys. Most of all though, despite the early social ranking, there was play – playing/ dreaming of the day we’d be grown up or have a romance. The play allowed us to dream, create, plan.

Play goes sideways

When you’re in college, boy howdy, there’s some freedom there. So, your parties, your birthdays, become an excuse to have excess. Because now you are a grown up and this must be the plan. Can I just say what a dumb plan it was?? Why any college town needs a game night or enticement for kids – ahem, grown-ups – to drink alcohol is beyond me. But they make it easy, particularly on your birthday. Combinations that should be labeled as hazardous do not need to enter the bodies of 21-year-olds. I suppose we thought that was how to play. It is certainly doubtful that we needed that type of play, though it gave us lessons. Samantha’s birthday in Sixteen Candles would have been a better option.

And when you’re turning as old as dirt, you know, 30, you have a blowout. For mine, I wanted to be surrounded by friends and family – both of which came true. We caroused our way around Universal Studios and had a decadent, indulgent, time – earning me the name ‘Princess” for many years amongst those friends. I have several tiaras which attest to that fact.

All grown up

But after a while, the adventure and play of your birthday isn’t such a big deal. We get older and celebrating less appealing. I, for one, have done little to mark my annual ride around the sun for several years. That’s not to say there wasn’t one year I was showered with attention. But not attention I wanted, that was more about the one who did the showering than the one being showered.

And that made me think about a lot of things, which are subjects for other blogs. But relevant to birthday play…

Is it possible that we celebrate others the way we want to be celebrated? Because that same person commented that I’d done ‘nothing’ for a milestone birthday of theirs. In my mind, I’d planned an executed a whole day, but not the same type of day planned for me. The realization was eye opening.

What we think is celebration, what we see as play, is different for all of us. I’m seeking more play, but you or anyone else can’t tell me what that will be. And visa versa. It is as unique as each of us. What a relief that is because I’ve spent some time feeling like I was missing a gene when, what other people may think was fun seemed a tad absurd to me.

Choose how you will play

Our challenge is to determine what play is for us, at each stage of our lives. I’ve been in the second half of life for a hot second now and play looks much different than it used to. Honestly, physical activity was play for me. I recall an event where I rode a bike and ran through the mud and concluded feeling enthusiastic as a child. The mere act of muddying up my body and bike was rebellious, titillating even.

But today? That same event would exhaust me. Reading a book, writing…that feels like play. Entertainment for my brain. Chasing the dog around the house and having her engage is play. Spending time with friends, being outside in nature, all elements of play. When we’re on the journey of Wholehearted Living, part of the path includes accepting change. Who we are today will not be who we are tomorrow or whoever that girl thought she was at 21. Grown-up was not an accurate description by any stretch.

We’re allowed to change how we play the key is…keep doing it. Bringing play into the picture. Our hearts need lifting and our spirits require boosting. Play does that for us.  So, for me today…go out and play…and once you have, my brave friends, drop a note in the comments. Share how you play, and we’ll feel joyous right alongside you.

 

 

Posted on

Why October is my favorite

While I do not suppose to speak for all Enneagram 9’s, this Nine has few favorites. I noticed it a few years ago as lists floated around Facebook, encouraging you and your followers to list favorite candy, or color, car or cartoon. I avoided those lists because I felt slightly inept at not being able to answer all the questions. No, I have no favorite food, I like Mexican food, but stop short of calling it a favorite. Because, subconsciously, I think I knew that if you pick a favorite, it could cause controversy. No thank you says my Nine self. BUT, I love October, and yes, it is my favorite.

Why so serious?

It’s possible it landed in my top spot because it’s the month of my birth, true. And I’ve also noticed in the three days that have passed since the 1st that I feel a little bit spunky, maybe even a little bit Alexis (knowingly shaking my shoulders to my fellow Schitt’s Creek fans). Fitting because the Wholehearted Living Guidepost I’m focusing on this month is:

Cultivating Laughter, Song, and Dance.

And Letting Go of Cool and Always in Control

If there was something more opposite than me, this guidepost would be it. Ten thousand percent not joking.  I’ve been told I’m too serious, but I come by it honestly. Responsibility at a young age will do that to you. By the age of four I knew my way around the inside of a hospital and was asking to take over the care of babies. True story. I was in the hospital for months but not in a contagious way so I could play with and hold babies. By fifth grade, I tried to take over cleaning my brother’s room because it was full of filth and pestilence. He didn’t even try to stop me. Who was smarter? On second thought…

It’s ok to play

But that feeling of spunky and feisty has started poking at me. Chipping away at the edges of the responsible outer shell. In the middle of work the other day, not 100% out of place, but out of character, I broke into a Benedictine Monk hymn singing voice to accentuate a point…on a call with about ten other people. Momentarily taken over by silly and not sure where it even came from. And I lived.

In Brené Brown’s Unlocking Us Podcast, she spoke about play being unstructured time spent with no purpose and described what is play for her family. That’s incredibly difficult as I feel like play doesn’t come naturally. But, it did make me think about what is play for me. The ‘time spent with no purpose’ kept tripping me up. And maybe that’s mindset. When I think about writing, for example, I love to sit down and put the wandering of my mind onto the paper…but I’ve made it include a purpose, which is to put out this blog. Or when I ride my bike, it’s not only for fitness, but also for the joy of being outside, which brings me energy and closer to God. So that ‘purpose’ continues to get attached. Is it possible I think too much?

Back to October

Perhaps this, my favorite month, even in what has been a nutsville year, is an invitation to explore a different side of Wholehearted Living. Release the white knuckled grip on responsibility aka control and spend time with no purpose. October is the tipping point month between the sweltering heat of summer and the chill in the air. It’s the transition of leaves turning and falling, making room for new growth after a long hibernation. A time when you can wear sweaters, but don’t always have to…and can almost enjoy a hot cup of tea without it triggering a hot flash. Almost being the operative word.

October is a reminder that I was a little girl once, and that little girl remains inside of me. She would celebrate all month with streamers and cupcakes and play, not worrying about responsibility, but instead instigating laughter. And so, the noise that is the world around us can fade this month (I know I’m not alone in desiring that dream to be a reality). Even if this is not the month of your birth, how can you give yourself permission to spend time without purpose? It’s not as lofty of a goal as it sounds. I come back to the idea that it’s mindset…it’s one thing at a time…it’s intentionality…and it’s possible for you and possible for me. Go play, my friends. Be Brave. Lisa