midlife Archives - Page 7 of 8

November 17, 2019

Help me help you

please and thank you “I can do it myself!” If you’re a parent or have spent any time around small children, it’s a frequently uttered phrase. It must be around age 3 or 4 they start to push on their independence. It’s part of every childhood and, honestly, necessary as they learn how to operate in the world apart from their parents.

As children grow up, they occasionally revert back, and start relying on mom again. My hypothesis is that they have so many other things occupying their minds, they don’t forget, but they don’t want to be bothered. My boys finally confessed to me in their late teens that it was easier to ask me than to figure it out themselves. Basically, they busted themselves. Now, I’m on to them.

I’ve never lost that independent piece of myself, my desire to do things myself. Each time I figure out how to do something around my house, the sense of satisfaction is worth it. I mean, I fixed a toilet leak recently, where’s the Girl Scout badge for that? Yet…I’ve been to told being self-sufficient is a sin. And although I couldn’t wrap my brain around that idea, it still bothered me. Here’s what I have to say about that. If you’re in my camp and are self-sufficient, I’m fairly certain Moses didn’t inscribe that one on the tablets. If anyone tries to tell you that, my answer is ‘nope.’ Moving on…

What is it about asking for, or accepting help that proves challenging? I’ve wrestled with the idea for a few years now, never quite putting my finger on it. For a while, I wondered if it had something to do with not wanting to make the ask, not wanting to rely on others. Maybe. It can be risky, a lot of unknowns. The funny thing is that I love helping people. I’m more than happy to jump in and lending a helping hand or find a solution. I often say that I could be a concierge. Putting together the pieces for people so they can have the best experience possible.

But yesterday, I had an ‘a-ha’ moment. I’d decided to replace the light fixture over my kitchen table. I know a couple of guys, one of whom is an actual electrician, who told me they come over and help. Nah…I can figure it out. I got the old one down, no problem. As I stood on the ladder staring at the wires, not gonna lie, I was a little perplexed how I was going to fit it all together. Obvi, white to white, black to black, but there was the grounding wire, the bracket…so many pieces. I contemplated YouTube solutions, or puzzling it out.

Instead, I asked for help. My friend came over, literally took him 15 minutes. Done. Light hung. Ta-da!

In my ‘a-ha’ moment I realized, it wasn’t that I had to do it myself, it’s that I don’t want to inconvenience others. I don’t want to be a bother. For me to ask for help feels tremendously vulnerable. It’s not the act of asking for help that causes hesitation, it’s the mental tape of ‘am I enough.’ Each time I was told I was overly self-sufficient; all it did was drive home the not good enough message. When I was teased for the independence? Same thing made me feel like I was doing something wrong, not enough.

Taking steps to be vulnerable, to ask for help, may not seem like no big thang, but, if you get this at all, it is. And I know there are many women out there who share my wiring. How do we overcome it? By doing the next thing. Yesterday, the next thing was asking for help with my light. Next week? Ask. That’s all that needs to happen. Whatever it is, make the ask.

The truth is, my friends, you are worthy, you are enough. All the messaging that gets in the way of that, it’s noise. I get that it’s hard, I’m right there with you, but you can be vulnerable. You are brave and courageous and I believe in you.

October 27, 2019

Permission to feel

feel the feelings While waiting for a flight recently, I struck up conversation with the guy next to me. Turns out, we were on the same journey, a quick weekend in Boston and now headed home. But our reasons couldn’t have been more different. Both were with family, but while mine was fun and adventure, his visited his gravely ill grandmother. He told me he didn’t think he was going to be able to go, but his cousin helped at the last moment. When I asked how she was doing, the answer was not well. It appeared she was going to pass away soon. Without a second breath, I found myself saying how fortunate it was he got to see her. “At least you got to be there.”

And then immediately caught myself. I’d rushed to sympathy instead of sitting with him in the emotion. Instead of empathy. Quickly, I changed course. Leaning in and talking about how hard it must be. Staying with whatever emotion this 20ish guy might be feeling about losing his grandmother.

It’s human nature to rush past emotion. To skip past empathy to get to the place where everything is better. “Look on the bright side,” “Something good will come from this,” “You’re better off.” The list could honestly go on forever, the variations having morphed over time to fit the situation.

Yet, we need to feel emotion, and, when the situation presents itself, to be side by side with others as they feel, if for nothing else to give them time to feel. Feel the highs and the lows.

Another tactic we use, a personal favorite, is to stay busy, productive. Nobody can fault me for that. I’m getting crap done. Except what I most need to do at times, which is to wrestle through the feelings. I know I’m not alone in this tactic, Brené Brown wrote about it;

“Crazy-busy is a great armor, it’s a great way for numbing. What a lot of us do is that we stay so busy, and so out in front of our life, that the truth of how we’re feeling and what we really need can’t catch up with us.”

Ouch.

Armor is nothing more than the defensive tactics we use to protect ourselves. From emotion, from what we need to feel, from up close life with people, including ourselves. You may be getting a tremendous amount done, hiding behind the socially acceptable guise of productivity, but it’s protection.

When we avoid the feelings, they don’t go away, the burrow down inside of us and wait for the most inopportune time to emerge. It’s because we haven’t looked at them face to face and wrestled through what they’re telling us.

Depending on the circumstance, they can run the gamut. Everything conceivable and even some we don’t want to own up to. I had an interesting conversation with a professional in these matters the other day who told me that societally, women are given permission to feel everything but anger, yet anger is the only emotion men can safely feel.

I found that fascinating but have seen it play out time and time again. I, for one, am quite anger adverse. It feels unsafe to me. Not a rational thought, but it’s the story I tell myself. In fact, I’m quite unaware to any anger I feel. And when faced with anger in another person, it feels more abrasive than it likely is. I feel it in my body, as though my center is being thrown off kilter. But anger is only an emotion. One that each of us can and do feel. The sooner we acknowledge that the better.

So, what of all this? What do we do with the emotions, the feelings?

Get down in the mud and wrestle with them. When we avoid, we defer. The feelings, emotions, will not go away. They lie dormant and until we process through, we might feel stuck.

And to the degree we can support another through the same journey, all the better. Feel the feelings and put down the armor that you think is keeping you safe, but in reality is doing nothing except allowing you to be numb and stuck, and distant from true self and others.

Our journey to authenticity is bumpy, and messy, and emotional. Be brave my dears, we’re on the path together.

October 20, 2019

Slow down, rest is calling

Front Door When I was avidly cycling, my friends and I used to participate in double centuries. 200 miles in one stretch, filled with laughter, camaraderie, lots of food, some pain, and endurance. By the time I was riding the doubles, I’d built up strength and speed. Not Lance Armstrong speed by any stretch, but enough to hold my own. Around mile 150 of the Davis Double, on a hot – I mean, cook an egg on the pavement hot – day, we came upon a fellow cyclist. The community of cyclists participating in these rides is not immense, so it was someone we’d ridden with many times.

By my recollection, he was just over 80 years old and truckin’ along, but starting to fade. My friend decided to ride in with him and our group agreed to hang back with her. But it meant slowing way down. And it was hard! I wouldn’t have thought slowing down would have been harder than keeping up a quick pace, but to my amazement, it was. In the end, we all rode in together. I’d realized a fact that has proven true in many areas of life.

Slowing down can be trickier than keeping up the mad pace we set for ourselves. I come from a family that never slows down. Constant activity fills the day. I’m not around them all the time anymore and have slipped into a slower pace of life, but my default is to action. And while action mode gets stuff done, it lacks time for restoration.

Going into this weekend, I had grand plans to relax, to treat myself…birthday present to me. I thought about going on an adventure, wandering in and out of unique shops somewhere I hadn’t been before. Literally up until Saturday morning, that was the plan. What did I do instead? Painted my front door… and I threw repainting a cabinet for good measure… and my nails, I mean, I’m not a savage. But I was busy all.day.long. While it resulted in a sense of satisfaction (presuming my door didn’t stick to the frame overnight…pray for me) I was tired. And maybe a little light-headed from breathing paint fumes all day long.

I’d replaced rest with action when what I really needed was the restoration my front door was treated to.

I’ve talked to friends about the internal battle, rest vs. staying in motion, and we share the struggle. Although there’s a trend toward self-care, the inclination is to measure ourselves against the results we achieve. Every single one of us needs rest. And taking that time doesn’t mean we’re lazy. Our internal monologue might tell us we’re being sloths but that’s not the truth.

The challenge is grant ourselves permission to rest. To avoid filling our day with activity. If you think back to ancient times, there’s a good reason crops were given a year of rest every seven, and people were instructed to have a day of rest each week. They knew what we’ve forgotten. We need time to slow down and feel the feelings, soak in the silence, and restore our bodies and minds.

Could you, just for today, choose rest over activity? If we stop, the world will go on, and we’ll be better off for it. Tomorrow will come and chances are, we’ll jump back in. But today, rest. You need it my friends. It’s part of the journey we’re taking together. Be brave.

September 15, 2019

When selfish is self-care

I was called selfish the other day. It’s one of the worst insults to me, honestly. It doesn’t paint a pretty picture. I’m certain each of us has the insult that cut us to the core, and that’s the one for me. It’s rolled around in my head a couple days, and I should have known from the beginning it would make it to the page.

If you’ve ever been called selfish, you’ve likely spent an equal amount of time wondering if, in fact, it’s true. It’s one of those insults that might as well be followed with “shame on you.” Sometimes used as an Evangelical slam, it’s often said in a way meant to say you’re not following the Golden Rule, not loving others as I love myself. Interesting, because if you follow that paradigm, you have to love yourself. Hence, if you’re not doing that, taking care of yourself, you can’t love others.

There’s great debate around the idea of self-care. The idea that you’re spending time and energy to restore yourself. Maybe that’s taking a long bath, expressing yourself creatively, taking a walk, connecting with a friend. Self-care can be time spent alone, or with other people. If you don’t have a practice around self-care, you’d be wise to develop one. Whatever it is for you that restores your heart, mind, body and soul. It is not selfish to practice self-care.

It’s also not selfish to have your own thoughts, ideas and opinions. We are made by the Creator as unique individuals. We’re here to express who we are in the world. And our ideas might not align with those around us, friends, family, loved ones. They don’t have to. There’s a myth that those in close proximity to us are going to align with what we believe. Maybe. But not necessarily. Having our own thoughts and expressing them doesn’t make us selfish.

Leaning into our integrity. Also, not selfish. If we are clear about what we believe, it is incumbent upon us to walk it out. There are times for the sake of relationship when we compromise and walk alongside someone else following their own beliefs. There’s nothing wrong with that. In the beginning, no sweat. You walk along, stretched, but still clear on your own convictions. After a while, one of two things is going to happen. You might be influenced to change your perspective, to realign your beliefs. Or, you might start to feel the seeds of discontent within you. Something you can ignore for a time, but then not. Your integrity won’t allow you to continue to compromise yourself.

That’s where it gets tricky. Being vulnerable and having a tough conversation about the misalignment. Stand in your values and express what you need to stay within your integrity. Maybe not popular, but not selfish.

Making decisions that are ultimately going to be the best for you, even if painful for a time? Not selfish. Yes, there are times for sacrifice. We can not have what we want all the time. That’s called being a human person living with other human persons. We ebb and flow. But when that’s not happening, it’s not selfish to make hard choices.

Talking about being selfish and what it is and isn’t is uncomfortable at best. To some degree, it’s subjective. What’s selfish for you may not be for me. Neither wrong. It’s not a black and white issue. What I know for sure is that anything said to create feelings of shame is destructive. Shame has no place in a healthy conversation. Chances are, if you’re wondering if you’re being selfish, you’re probably not. You’re considering other people, which is the entire point. We’re here to do our lives together. We can’t do that if we’re not taking care of ourselves, physically and most importantly emotionally, taking care of our soul.

Don’t let anyone make you feel less than, make you feel small or shameful for taking care of yourself. It’s you job. And doing it well isn’t selfish. It’s healthy. It’s self-preservation.

September 8, 2019

What do you want to say?

the road that led here If you’ve had children, you likely recall the phrase, “use your words.” During that stage when they’ve begun talking, but are not yet English fluent, a child will revert to the behaviors that got them what they want. They’ll use the primal techniques that they instinctively knew as infants to communicate their needs, crying being at the top of the list. They’ll point, cry…anything but speak…in an effort to get what they want. In the moment, they cannot find the words to communicate what they want or what they’re feeling.

I can relate. There are times when I find it difficult to express what I’m feeling, what I’m thinking. I’ve researched the brain/body connection enough to know that in stress, our bodies are flooded with Cortisol and our Amygdala, the reptilian brain, takes over. Our Prefrontal Cortex, the rational part of our brain, doesn’t stand a chance. Our Amygdala causes the fight or flight response. It’s what saved us from the tigers. When I’m in a stress situation, I can observe losing my words, I can’t articulate what I’m thinking and if pressed, it only becomes worse.

I’ve started thinking about transformational periods of my life, certain ages where the events shifted how I saw the world, how I saw myself. The one that comes to mind easily is when I was in the hospital for my foot amputation. Overall, I recall that as a benign experience. My adult self recalls wheelchair races and playing with the babies in the ward next to mine. But part of my mind also thinks about the solitude. Being in the hospital with no family around. I don’t remember talking to anyone except the nurses, an occasional doctor and, of course, my parents when they visited. Feelings that arose within me during that time had nowhere to go. You have to be a good girl, behave, follow the rules. Yet, four is an age where your mind is still developing who you are, laying down the track of your foundational memories, thoughts about the world and behaviors.

As an adult, I want to ask that little girl what she would tell me today. The insights she would share, given the time to articulate in words what she was feeling. Through research and wisdom from a teacher, I’m learning that we can go back and ask. The memories are stored within our mind. Neuroscience studies have show that when presented with a narrative of a stressful time, our minds react as if the event were happening in the moment. It stands to reason that our minds can also recall formational memories. The value of understanding what shapes us is using it to create a new narrative. If there were times that told us we had to behave, believe, respond certain ways, there was a reason, but that reason doesn’t necessarily exist today.

Our experiences shape who we are and prepare us for the life we’re living. But we’re not passive participants. We can look back, listen to our inner wisdom, the voice of ourselves at those critical moments in life, and understand that what was true then may not be true now. We’re not required to stay on a fixed road, we can shift.

With the understanding of what our younger self learned, what it has to tell us, we can make different choices. We can calm our reptilian brain and remind it that we’re not escaping from a tiger. We’re no longer in that moment, trapped by flooding emotions. It’s a matter of understanding that experience is in the past and not the truth today. We can articulate what we have to say about the trajectory of our life. And we must. It’s our journey to live, and we’re in it together. Live it boldly, aware of who you are and how you got here. I’m on the path with you.

September 1, 2019

Embracing our changing purpose

Graceful Aging When I decided to move to the area where I live, I spent several weekends travelling to the area to look at homes. One weekend, I’d nearly given up and was taking a drive through one last neighborhood. Tired, a little defeated, frustrated the “right” house hadn’t jumped out yet. Driving through that area, I noticed a semi-truck with a livestock trailer. Suddenly, out from the trailer came sheep after sheep, I think nearly 200! Honestly, it was so delightful I simply sat at watched them, curious about their presence.

What I’ve since learned, now that I live in that same neighborhood, is that my town uses sheep to clear weeds from the open green belt spaces. Each year, the sheep are brought in and within a day or two, the grass and weeds are gone. I take time to watch them and when they were recently in our area, I was thinking about the herd. These are not the young, sexy sheep. Quite the opposite. They’re older, their coats are in various states of falling off, some are white, but others black, brown or spotted. Most definitely, they are past the prime of their life, but have found a second calling. They serve a purpose.

Each year I watch the sheep, I think about the purpose they’re serving. At the same time, I ponder the purpose each of us serves as we grow older. I read a quote that we start living at 40 and up to that point we’re still doing research. I can attest to that, and would stretch it closer to 50, now that I’m there and can see the lessons continuing to unfold.

There’s a tipping point that I’ve noticed happens somewhere around the late 40’s early 50’s where you take stock. It’s the realization that the “building” that we focus on when we’re younger…build the career, home, family…is maybe not done, but no longer requires the attention we previously gave it. And many of us ask, what now? What’s next? My big question is “how do I want to ride out my life?”

I now understand the reinvention that happens in middle age. It’s more of a redefinition, one which is still in the works for me, but has involved reading and reading and reading some more to figure out how I got here. It’s not a searching, it’s an examination, looking at what works and what doesn’t to decide what to carry forward.

That examination has also shifted to looking at what I bring to the party, what do I know. It’s a question each of us can ask. After a lot of living and experience, we have homed in on our talents. We know what we like and don’t and can drop the parts that don’t work for us. There’s a quiet confidence that emerges in middle age. Not blustery or ego driven. A confidence that allows us to ask harder questions about the systems and beliefs that were handed to us. We might find that some of what we’d been taught doesn’t make sense anymore or requires additional thought. The careers we pursued because they made sense, but do they anymore? Maybe. Or maybe with some tweaks.

Each of us continues to have a purpose, but the values which drive it may have changed. And that’s ok. If we don’t continue to grow, we’re dying. I was accused of changing a few months ago, to which I simply replied, yes, I have. It’s part of life.

What about you? Is the focus and purpose you established earlier in life still on point? If you’re following the same one because you feel you must, you don’t. Especially if it’s the path someone else laid out for you. It’s our journey, friends. One that leads us to unexpected places, discovering ourselves as we go, and living out our best lives. We have the wisdom, are brave and courageous and are moving down a new path together.

August 18, 2019

Being present with today

Patience of Nature Does anyone else enjoy an afternoon hanging out in a sub-zero movie theater when it’s 105 degrees outside in the shade? Literal fry an egg on the pavement weather. I’ll quickly jump on that train as an escape and, hopefully, to be entertained. Which I was last weekend, enjoying The Farewell.

I’ll openly admit subtitles are not my normal jam, but this film transitioned in and out of Chinese, so I had no choice. Easily overlooked given the sweetness and care given to the subject. The film was based in part on the life experiences of the director, Lulu Wang, and depicts a family who, upon learning their beloved grandmother has only months to live, decide not to tell her and instead plan a family gathering before she dies.

Though underlying tensions about the decision not to tell the grandmother existed throughout, the secret was kept. Family members made sacrifices to keep the news secret. Enjoying a celebration filled with laughter, family and friends, you watch what you presume are the grandmother’s final days. Only to learn in the credits of the film (and in full disclosure, spoiler alert), the grandmother had not passed six years later when the film was made.

Leaving the theater, melancholic feelings washed over me. A warm sweetness largely brought about by the portrayal of the care and concern the family had to protect their grandmother. The film lingered with me for other reasons as well, wondering if there was something to the innocent ignorance on behalf of the grandmother and her prolonged health.

I’ve realized I’m at a tipping point in life where health issues are perhaps less “issues” and more a byproduct of entering middle age. My curiosity for all things medical though is so strong that when I sense something is wrong, I want to figure it out. Good or bad, that’s led to more than I bargained for. And while my medical curiosity is fed, I wonder about the benefits of not knowing.

Through much research and study, I understand the influence our minds have on our overall health. If we experience stress, that impacts our bodies, more than I’d like to acknowledge in my case. But our minds…they call a lot of the shots.

I’ve begun to realize that in some instances, perhaps we’re better off to not know what’s going on inside of us (ok…I wonder that but at the same time hope they invent the human version of the diagnostic tool used to figure out why the check engine light is on in your car…so.many.possibilities). What would we do differently if we weren’t waiting for the other shoe to drop? Knowing we have X Y or Z condition that could manifest at any time. Like the grandmother in The Farewell who continued thriving because she wasn’t worried, looking for the manifestation of her illness.

What if instead our minds weren’t distracted with problems and we focused on living? Often, we rush to nail down what’s next. In health, what will be the next symptom or sign we’re watching for (which is not a statement against medical treatment – don’t mistake me – it’s over analyzing each ache and pain that perhaps in a natural byproduct of having lived 50, 60 or more years). In life, a posture of waiting for conditions to be exactly right for happiness, the right weight, a perfect relationship, job success. We put off being in the moment and patiently waiting for what’s next in an urgency to get conditions exactly right.

Could we choose to slow down? To live in a space of not knowing, and being content with that? Not rushing to the conclusion, the answer…and instead sit with the knowledge that you’re doing, being, feeling, exactly what you’re supposed to in this moment. Take a breath and sit with who you are today. Enjoy the sweet simpleness that arises when you’re present with yourself and those around you? I believe it’s worth the effort. Worth putting down the worries that occupy our minds and simply be.

What about you? What do you need to put down and be patient about so that you can be in the moment, enjoying life and those around you? Once you let the burden go, you might miss it for a while, but the abundance that can fill that space is worth the shift. Give it a try, I’m on the journey with you.

August 4, 2019

Create your own adventure

Big Adventure Adventurous. Isn’t that an adjective we hope people use when describing us? Up for anything. Ready for any anything. Traveler, experience seeker…all of it. I’d like to call myself an adventurer. I love exploring places I’ve never been, love finding somewhere new. Love the idea of travel. Picking up at a moment’s notice and taking off, no plans…open to whatever comes my way.

But what do I look like in real life? Dreaming of those adventures but spending Saturday night watch the latest Netflix original movie, Otherhood. Would I recommend it? No. A tale of moms of late 20-something boys who find themselves on the outside of their son’s lives. Can I relate? I’m going to say no and leave it at that. I love my mama’s boys…but I digress…

I found myself ruminating about the dichotomy of what my dreams are and what I actually do. As always, there’s more than one factor at play. It’s likely that way with any area of disconnect in our lives. The causes are not black and white. There are shades of grey, or, ombre if I’m being hip and cool #lifegoals.

What started my rambling thoughts was an idea that popped into my head as I was waking up the other day. I love Santa Cruz and I started dreaming about how fun it would be to drive over for an adventurous weekend. Not more than a minute later the naysayer voice started. It’s a long way…it’s only you…what will you do…are you worth spending the money to get a hotel… Flooding into my mind, as though the thoughts were waiting to pounce, waiting to squash the dream.

Except this time, I caught them.

Startled into full alertness, I realized the path I went down. Killing my own dreams because I didn’t feel “worth it.” What…the…hell??? A trip to Santa Cruz? Come on now. It’s not that complicated. Hotel, cheap eats, some Starbucks…easy-peasy. But I’d stopped it. I could tell the thought process was going down the path of, stay safe and content in your own house…minimize risks…save your money. Valid, but not overriding reasons to skip an adventure.

Scouring my memories, I recalled that I have had numerous adventures over the years. How did those happen if I barely wanted to leave my cozy chair today? Friends, that’s how. I had Rockstar adventurous girlfriends who led me down the path to bike trips. To places in California I’d never seen before, beautiful, stunning even, stretches of the coast that everyone should see. From the seat of my bike, I explored California with gusto, because I had buddies. A trip to Ireland years ago happened because a friend wanted to go and I tagged along for the ride. Guinness does taste better in Dublin.

Maybe the answer to adventure is two-fold, it could be for any of us. Believing you are worth it, because you are, and having the motivation. In the past my friends motivated me, and maybe that’ll be the case again, but travelling for the pure joy of it is motivation enough for me. Honestly, solo travel has appeal.

An adventurous life may not be the dream you sidestep. It may be going back to school, or learning piano, guitar, another language, or maybe starting a new business, or insert your dream here. Whatever it is, tell yourself deep down that you are worth it. Period. End of story. Every single one of us could come up with endless reasons not to pursue a dream, instead, say yes. Don’t wait another minute. And to make sure it happens? Accountability. Friends to do it with you, or who will ask you about it. People who you trust and who will follow up for your better good, not to hassle you. Your tribe are your allies, engage them to push you towards your dreams.

It’s a journey for every one of us, let’s keep taking it together. Be brave, Be authentic, Be bold my friends.

July 28, 2019

Standing in the Wilderness

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And I found myself in the wilderness.

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

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

July 21, 2019

Life is not a dress rehearsal

Life that's waiting My 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.