Tag: truth

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Ordinary Courage

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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Choosing your focus

Positive EnergyAt work, we describe busy times as “seasons,” except they’re less seasons and more all the time.  And while you adapt to the pace, every now and then there’s a tipping point. Yeah, that happened this week. I found myself standing in front of my friend/boss with tears in my eyes, overwhelmed. Only for a minute, but I tipped.

We were minutes away from beginning a training which I was leading and while I knew I’d make it through, the business caught up to me. Once we started the session, the material we walked our team through reminded me of the lesson I needed in that moment. Isn’t that how life is when you’re paying attention?

Bear with me on the HR speak for a minute as I explain the tool we were using. We use a 360 tool through the Leadership Circle to look at leaders through multiple lenses. Their leader, their team and peers. The results show the degree to which you operate in 4 spheres: Creative/Reactive and Relationships/Results. You receive a score of where others see you are in each area as well as where you rate yourself, showing any disconnects.

The idea is that when you’re operating in the Reactive space, you’re not as focused on the Creative side, which is where innovation, strategy and growth happen. The same is true with Results, if that’s where your primary focus is, you have less energy to invest and grow relationships, to work through and with people.

As we walked through these concepts, literally – we have a 12’x12’ version of the circle laid out on the floor – concepts from the coaching program I went through also came to mind. The Creative and Reactive sides equate to positive and negative pulls. When you operate in the negative space, that’s the energy you draw to you and the lens through which you see your circumstance. The negative/reactive side is a stronger force than the positive/creative. Once you can see it, you can make a choice.

That’s right, a choice. In my moment/meltdown, the focus was on the enormity rather than the opportunity.

When we choose to approach a situation from the positive/creative space, we see options, ways to look at the circumstance differently. Its no different when you’re working with people. If you approach a situation ‘armoring up,’ prepared for the worst, that’s what we’re going to look for, and likely, what you’re going to get. I’ve seen this play out in conversations over and over. The approach has a significant impact on the result.

The degree to which we can stay in the creative/positive space will influence the interactions in our lives. We can look for the positive, bringing it out in ourselves and in others. It’s a choice and sometimes armoring up seems safer, but it won’t produce the relationships we desire. The ask for you today is simply to notice. Pay attention to your interactions and be mindful of the way you interact. You’re likely to find that the energy you put forth is what will be returned to you.

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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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Feeling and Release

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

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

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

I did.

And felt like an idiot.

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

She was right.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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It’s a big deal

you matterIt’s not infrequent for me to meet someone and months later, they realize I have a prosthetic leg. Maybe it’s winter, or they never see me in a skirt, and I certainly don’t start my elevator speech with “Hi, I’m Lisa and I have a prosthetic leg.” In fact, it’s something I rarely mention, so often goes unnoticed. Until it is.

And when it is, the uncomfortable conversation ensues. They ask, I have my synopsis, birth defect, amputation, and without fail, I end that explanation by saying, “it’s not a big deal.” Partially, I say it so that if the conversation started awkwardly, I let them off the hook. But I also say it to minimize it and move on.

But it is a big deal.

It’s a big deal that I overcame. With help, but I overcame it. When I was a little girl, it was amputated and I spent a few months in the hospital normalizing it, i.e. playing, swimming, learning to walk with a prosthetic, getting me back up to four year old speed so I could launch back into the world. My parents were fantastic and treated me as though nothing was different, my friends honestly never knew me without my prosthetic, and life continued.

But it is a big deal.

I find it fascinating to watch people who’ve experienced a hardship in their life. Perhaps medical, maybe relational, financial, job loss. You can see the discomfort they feel when someone comes alongside them. To sit with them in the middle of the “stuff.” You’ll hear that familiar phrase, “it’s no big deal.” The brush off. Nothing here to see.

We minimize and, in that moment, lose an opportunity to connect on a deeper level. To allow ourselves to be close up in life with another person, to allow them to share our story. We want to be soldiers, like the one I was as a little girl. Or like a stubborn child who says “I can do it myself.” People, we’re not wired like that. We try, I try, oh do I try. But we’re not fundamentally wired that way. Others want to come alongside us not out of pity, but because they care about us.

It’s a big deal. What’s a big deal is that some of us do it in hard times, AND we do it when we’re rockin’ it. When we have crushed our goals, or a project, or an accomplishment. We say it’s not a big deal, we deflect, we play small. Why do we do that? Honestly, I know you’re out there, person like me who falls into this camp. Why?

What would it look like to stop deflecting? To stop making light or small of our life? What if I could say, “My foot was amputated when I was four due to a birth defect,” and stop right there? What if when congratulated for an accomplishment, we said thank you, and stopped right there? If I’m telling the truth, I feel a bit squirmy thinking about it. But the opposite of making ourselves smaller isn’t boasting, or being grandiose, it’s simply being. Acknowledging. Accepting. Being grateful for our journey.

Standing in our own space, it’s a big deal. It feels bold. It’s who we’re called to be. Thanks for being on the journey with me.

 

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Hurt and Anger

hurt and angerI am not an angry person. I know people who say they’re angry, often, but that’s not something that comes to my mind. Until…I took my deep dive into the Enneagram. What I learned was that my type, the 9, the peacemaker, is “asleep” to their anger. It’s not that the anger isn’t there, it’s that they don’t even recognize it, they don’t associate with it. Um…ok…that got my attention.

I once met with a friend I hadn’t seen in quite a while. At the time, I’d gone through my coaching class and was increasingly self-aware. She made a comment that I used to seem “angry all the time.” This was pre-Enneagram and I remember being surprised and thinking that I didn’t recall being angry. When I learned the Enneagram, her comment came back to me, clicked into place and made more sense than I was comfortable with.

Describing myself as angry is something I wouldn’t do, it’s an uncomfortable emotion for me. Maybe you’ve felt the same way. Anger feels almost dangerous to me, an emotion that there must be a way to get around. Except there’s not. Post-Enneagram, I’ve noticed that uncomfortable emotion, and made an effort to recognize it when it comes up.

At the same time, I think about hurt. Stay with me. Hurt and anger are two sides of the same coin. No, really. Anger often comes from hurt, it’s a response that allows us to do something with the hurt we feel. Because if we don’t do something with all that hurt, it simply simmers inside of us. Eats at us. We want to make it go away but that’s a hard ask without action.

I’ve noticed there are different ways that people can take their anger, their hurt and act. A few month’s ago, I went to a women’s empowerment conference. On the second day of the conference, I was walking to lunch thinking about an uncomfortable feeling I was having. There was an intangible I couldn’t put my finger on about the conference. Then it dawned on me, there were a lot of angry women there. Anger manifesting itself in action, but negative anger. Railing out against “the man,” which in this case actually was man, the laws, the behaviors, that prevented women from equality. I did not share the anger, which explained my discomfort.

That said, there are circumstances which I am not in agreement with, and I am pro-equal rights for women, but how I choose to respond is different than anger. I don’t want to leave you with the impression that the conference was purely a fight against male oppression. Far from it. Dynamic female speakers shared thought provoking insights into a wide variety of topics and I was thankful for attending. I simply noticed the simmering anger.

I’m finding that I also have a spirit to do something about circumstances that I don’t agree with, but it comes from a different place. A broken heart. My heart breaks for people who are made to feel “less than.” I fundamentally see the equality and sameness in people. When I see people being treated as though they’re doing something wrong simply for being who they were born to be, it hurts my heart. That’s when I feel anger. The broken heart “anger” makes me want to come alongside people, to show them God’s love, love that God has for each and every one of us.

So, while I may not like the emotion of anger, I can see where it serves a purpose. It gives my hurting heart a way to action. Honestly, understanding anger through the lens of the Enneagram allowed me to name it, and move through it, rather than allowing it to simmer. I’m still not comfortable with it, and it feels bold to even say I have it, but that’s my plan this year, being bold. I’d ask you to think about hurt and anger in your own life. How does it come up and what are you doing about it? Recognize it so that you can heal and move forward, whether it be into action, forgiveness, acceptance, whatever your heart needs to have peace. That’s your brave path friends. I’m on it with you.

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Return to simple love

let friends be themselvesHave you ever watched a baby playing? Around nine months old when they’re curious and amused by the smallest of actions. They’re mobile enough to be getting into things, but still at the age where it takes little to create joy on their faces. I was delighted the other day to have a co-worker bring her son to work for a few hours. One, I have an affinity to this kid because he shares the name of my son, Bodie. Second, babies at work bring a lightness to what, at times, can be a serious atmosphere.

Bodie sat on the floor next to the door and swung it one way, crawled over to where it landed, and swung it the other. In all honesty, I sat watching him as though he was baby Einstein solving advanced calculus problems. Back and forth…over and over. I thought in that moment how simple life is when we’re babies. Our reality is made up of that which is directly in front of us…our mom…and our dad. Our challenges are putting Cheerios into our mouth with accuracy and working on walking.

Somewhere along the way though, a narrative begins forming in our minds. We start to make sense of what’s happening around us, the relationships we have. We fill in blanks for ourselves when the story doesn’t quite make sense. There’s a learning about what helps us succeed in our life, even at a young age. Behaving, learning, achieving, it becomes evident what makes our parents give us praise. Human nature loves that praise…as young children we figure out the system.

At least, we figure out the system that works for us, in our family. But not all families are the same. As a young child, I had to go to bed EARLY, I mean….my friends were still outside playing, right outside my window in the meadow in front of our home. It seemed unfair, why did they get to stay up? Granted, it was still light as day…stays light past my 7 p.m. bedtime in the summer. But still. And, the injustice of other kids being able to eat sweets whenever they wanted! I got a quarter, once a week, to walk to the store and get a piece of candy. In hindsight, that one wasn’t a bad strategy. I was in my 30’s before I had my first cavity.

The comparisons we form lead to judgement. As we grow into adulthood, our experiences, the realities of childhood, become ingrained in us. We start using our reality to measure others. To judge them. How your family loaded the dishwasher or put on the toilet paper roll becomes a yardstick for measuring right and wrong. Of course, that’s the tip of the iceberg, if we’re not careful, our judgement can run deep into core beliefs and measuring others against our standards.

That’s the point where the rubber meets the road in relationships. We weren’t raised by the same two people and how I made sense of the world may not be how you made sense of the world. What do you do then? In simple terms, you seek to understand. Understand their perspective. That doesn’t mean you have to adopt it but understanding where they’re coming from is a starting point for conversation. It’s easy to slip into wanting to judge another’s belief as right or wrong, but that’s not our job. Our job is understanding and giving space for people to be themselves. Our job is to love, not to clobber. To remember that we have a lifetime of input behind our beliefs, but so does the other person. We were born uniquely us and continue to be that way. If we could learn to love people where they are, I believe we’d have solved one of life’s biggest challenges.  Star with today, and then tomorrow, love other people, just as God loves us.

 

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Why have an anthem?

Vulnerability 2For as long as I can remember, I’ve gravitated to music that is big. Ballads, big female voices, dramatic crescendos, swells…think Celine Dion, Whitney Houston, lately a little bit of Lady Gaga. BIG. Songs that fill a room and might leave you crying in a puddle on the floor at the same time. Throughout the years, I’ve found myself drifting away, but always returning to a song, or finding new ones, to put on repeat. When my kids were young, I’d blast it in the car, we’d all be singing along and then…I’d turn it off…catching them mid-song each time…and then we’d laugh and laugh. But even today, they know the words to all the songs. You’re welcome.

The songs I’ve put on repeat over the years have changed, again, Celine Dion is always a leader, but there’s always been one. Lately, This is me, by Kesha has been on the playlist. It’s from The Greatest Showman movie, which, I literally only saw last night. I’ve caught the song, here and there, mainly at women’s events, not surprisingly. It has all my required elements, big swells, compelling lyrics, a dramatic finish. I can’t get enough of it. For the first time, I’ve decided to call a song my anthem.

Anthem’s are nothing new. They arise to provide people with an anchor, something to hold tight, to rally around in unity or in protest at times. But an anthem defined is “an uplifting song identified with a particular group…or cause.” This is me rallies for the underdog, the marginalized, those who are cast aside. While that’s not my story, my heart hurts for people who are overlooked, or marginalized for being who they are.

Maybe it’s because of my own beginnings. As a child with a prosthetic leg, you stand out. Before you think I’m going down a traumatic tale, I’m not. But, you stand out. People look at you, other kids, adults. And they ask questions. Today, I roll with all of it, but as a child, or a young teen, all you want to do is fit in, and you don’t.

I wish I could understand the component of human psyche that explains why some people struggle to be in proximity with different. We are all different, to varying degrees, some of our differences are simply visible. But whether internal or external, different is only different. It’s nothing else. It’s not less.

That’s what I notice, the tendency to hone in on less, to pinpoint the difference and label it as bad, or wrong, or weird. This can be viewed as a form of deflecting, we judge in others what we are uncomfortable or unhappy with in ourselves.

My heart breaks for people who find themselves in the margins. I could say “because I’ve been there,” but only from the standpoint that I know the feeling of having people stare. I’ve been fortunate to have people remind me I’m loved, but that’s not always the case. That is where my heart hurts. Maybe that’s why I love an anthem. It’s a rallying point. This is me was a rallying point in the movie for the sideshow, people who were in the circus solely for their difference. Even then, despite the draw, they were kept in the shadows, until they weren’t.

The song, my anthem, embraces the individual, just as they are. Just as God created them, created you, created me. Will you be bold enough today to do the same?

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Keeping the peace

Everything's gonna be alrightI often let a thought spin around in my head, almost like a ball on a roulette wheel. The idea will spin and spin and when I least expect it, click into place. I wrote about taking a class on the Enneagram last week. Some of the information was new, but not all. I’d been researching the tool for a while. The idea that rolled around in my head related to what is referred to as the “childhood wound,” of the type.

For the Enneagram 9, which is what I typed as, it’s “if everything around me is ok, I am ok.” It can lead to being a peacemaker, mediator and generally keeping life around you calm. I can completely relate. Figuring out where the “wound” comes from isn’t necessarily important, it’s the story we create for ourselves to make sense of the world around us. What’s important to address is the lasting impact.

What clicked for me the other day was that I have, not infrequently, put myself into situations where I knew on the frontside the person I was talking to had opposing views to mine, and in my mind I always though, “It’s going to be alright, we’ll figure it out.” What I realized is that, those situations always worked out because I stepped aside. Meaning, the belief or thought that I had took a backseat. I either abandon it or set it aside for the sake of keeping the peace.

Oddly, it’s a different story at work where I navigate opposing views regularly. The difference, I think, is that I’m operating as a healthy version of the 9 at work. In my personal life, the difference is too close, the risk of upsetting the harmony I crave to great. So I play small. I don’t speak up. I’m silent when I need to use my voice. I turn inside myself and risk withdrawing.

I share this because I doubt that I’m alone. Women, in particular, acquiesce. We keep the peace, in our homes, with our family, with our children, our spouses. It’s a wiring. Which isn’t a bad thing. But if we’re keeping the peace at the expense of ourselves, our own ideas, beliefs and opinions, it’s not healthy. I was told once by a therapist, when discussing my people pleasing tendencies, that if you are always focused on pleasing others, you’re slowly giving yourself away. That results in resentment and a slow erosion of your essential self. That’s not God’s plan.

There are times when we might compromise, that’s part of normal living with other people. But I’ve come to realize that if you are compromising on your core beliefs, the essence of who you are and what you believe in, that’s a different story. Compromising on where to go to dinner is another ballgame.

So now what? Has any of this struck a cord with you? If it has, you may need to look at how you construct your life and how “everything will be alright.” Maybe, you could try on, “this part might be difficult,” or stay in the tension when you want to back down and silence your heart. What I hope you’ll do, is to stay true to who you are. Your beliefs and opinions are equally important to anyone else’s. I pray that you will not forget that and that you will stay strong as the person God made you to be.

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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.