Tag: Women

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Gaining perspective and daring

Earlier in my career, I had the sweet luck to travel to beautiful National Parks. One year, I travelled to Death Valley National Park in a bearable month, October. Never having been there, the landscape struck me with a sense of wonder. In the desert, gaining perspective can be challenging because of the lack of comparison. You gaze across endless seas of sand and your perspective is limited by what you can see, which is nothing but rolling sand in several directions. You realize how vast the landscape is and how minute you are in comparison. In subsequent years, I travelled through Death Valley during a bike race and found the terrain much different. Apparently, the desert landscape is not flat. I could see my prior vision had been narrow. Perspective follows that pattern. In the moment, you see narrowly what’s in front of you, but in hindsight, you see the entire landscape. The process of aging affords you perspective, and, I believe, the daring to act on the results.

Perspective in hindsight

As a girl growing up in the 70’s, the idea of feminism was radical to me. In my mind, feminism equaled: ‘bring home the bacon, fry it up in a pan’ the hallmark of Enjoli perfume ads; hairy arm pits (no thank you for me); working women; and Ditto jeans…because you were sexier in Ditto’s. Feminism also meant Gloria Steinem who, as I heard her spoken of, was radical and hated men. Apart from my one pair of Ditto jeans, which I coveted, I was not about the feminist way of thinking. I stayed cloistered in my Holly Hobby world and tuned into Little House on the Prairie each Monday night. A skewed view of the world indeed.

But college…oh college, the first of many eye openers. People who saw the world differently, who broadened my perspective. A far cry from the quaint, conservative, church teachings in my hometown. I recall being in a church service while home for a holiday and the pastor spoke of women being submissive. I did a double take and wondered how I missed that in all the years I’d been attending. That idea rolled around in my head as I grappled with forming my own perspective about my role as a woman.

Undue influence

Whether we want to acknowledge it or not, ‘the church,’ is responsible for defining what ‘womanhood’ is for many women in the United States and around the world. Faith traditions usually include the role of women , and it has been further refined by a multitude of denominations. With rare exception, the refinements did not provide more agency and freedom to women. Instead, they neatly tucked women into a box of rules that defined when we spoke, what we said, how we served, and the degree to which (and how) we could express ourselves. From where I sit today, the faith perspective was also skewed.

But influential.

Because the powers that be within faith communities speak with authority, with certainty, about an array of topics, but most definitely about women. What’s been braided together over the years is a perspective that, to be a good (insert your faith here), you must also be XY and Z. And I guarantee you XY and Z do not have Gloria Steinem as a poster child. No, XY and Z has a quiet, supportive, submissive woman who does not make waves. Who does not speak her mind, who carries a load not understood by the opposite sex who defines how we are ‘supposed to’ act.

Shifting to a daring perspective

You know who should define women’s behavior? Women. Specifically, each individual woman. Because no playbook captures the myriad of our experiences. Does that make me a feminist? Ok. Maybe it’s because I’m in the second half of life and feeling daring, not caring as much about what others think, but we have permission for our behaviors to range to the same degree as anyone else. If we’re angry, we should get angry. Overwhelmed, we can show it. Sad, happy, excited, frustrated, perplexed? Yes, yes, and yes. When we don’t express our feelings and shove them inside, keeping ourselves buttoned up on the outside so that we don’t draw attention, those feelings, that energy, it goes somewhere. Where we see it manifest is in illness. Chronic illness from the long-term effects of stress.

A friend sent me this video yesterday sharing the perfect perspective. If you’re angry, be angry, truly experience your life. We’ve been conditioned to ‘not make a fuss,’ but if you want to make a fuss, make a fuss. Another person’s discomfort if we break a gender norm in our behavior is none of our business. It’s not. I don’t write that to be confrontational. It’s the truth. If we’re behaving respectfully, albeit forcefully, again…we’re allowed.

It’s a rip off that true perspective occurs in hindsight. Be that as it may, I have perspective now, 53 years in. Will it be different 10 years from now? I hope so. For today though, I’m fed up with the norms we’ve been given and ready to embrace a daring perspective. What that means, I’m not sure, but I’m confident I’ll gain perspective along the path. This is your journey, friends, what do you want it to be? Be brave. Lisa

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Making your way on a bumpy path

Resiliency – my focus for the month. It’s top of mind and I’m noticing what adds to and what detracts from building joyful moments to bounce off when life becomes life. The aspects of day to day living that are, honestly, a drag. Because we all have the tough parts, even if we don’t want to acknowledge it.

I get in my own way

Much of my time is spent in my head, which is good and bad. On the plus side, it allows time for introspection. Thinking about ways in which I can continue to grow in life. Stretching, reaching. The downside? It allows time for introspection. Quickly moving past the good to look at the bad and the ugly. It takes little to get the downward spiral going. Before I know it, I’m in the phase of, “My body is gross, I’m ugly and nobody loves me.” A friend I used to spend hours and hours cycling with and I coined that phrase. It 1000% describes the woe is me state that knocks on my door at least once a week.

And look at what she’s doing!

Here’s the deal. Moseying along, living my authentic life, but that pesky comparison creeps up on me. I’ll start to notice the amazing work someone else is doing, in the SAME space I want to be doing it. The nerve. Well, actually, the amazing nerve because they are nailing it. And if they’re nailing it, why aren’t I? No really, why aren’t I?

In this moment, there is no joy, no bounce, no resiliency. Pure and simple, there is woe is me. Lasting anywhere from 2 minutes to a day, I ponder why I haven’t gotten off my butt and gotten my groove going. Instead here’s what happens. The workday ends and I head home thinking I’m going to work on the project, whatever that is. It might be a class I’m facilitating, painting I want to do, reading a great book that’s gathering dust beside me as we speak, the list goes on.

But instead of working on the project I make dinner, sit in my chair, feet up, and turn on Netflix. Learning about Mary Queen of Scots via Reign is a real thing people. Rather than making an impact on my world, even if only in a small way, I watch Mary, Francis, and Catherine…wondering what possible potion she’ll come up with next. Seriously people, this is my life.

I try and remember self-compassion. Maybe it’s what I need in the moment. Yes, it must be because it happens 5 nights a week.

Unexpected Resiliency Boost

My desire to create a space for women to step into their authentic self has percolated inside me for over 4 years. I take baby steps, but don’t see it to fruition. Staying in my space, my known, seems so much more peaceful. But the desire doesn’t go away. Which is why seeing other people nail it creates angst. I want to be doing it to. The other day, I was talking to a coach friend who shared this quote with me…

If you can see the path laid out in front of you, step by step, you know it’s not your path. Your own path you make with every step you take. That’s why it’s your path. Joseph Campbell

The joy it brought me to frame what I’ve been doing as part of my own path, one I truly don’t see clearly, which is why I double back so often. My path might have needed Netflix, or not. But it has its own timing. Reframing brought me resiliency.

Stay on YOUR path

Resiliency brings you back. For me, it helps me remember I’m my own authentic person with my own path. I’m not walking down someone else’s. And mine will not only look different than someone else’s, it’ll be in my timing, not there’s. Instead of comparing, I can stay in the space of being inspired by what’s being created by others and not care about the when. Joy and appreciation for my own journey can win. That’s the wholehearted space.

What about you?

Are you walking down your own path, or chasing your ball down someone else’s road? Take a minute and think about it. If the path isn’t familiar, it’s probably yours. Stay on it. Don’t let the shiny things on someone else’s distract you, because you have your own journey to walk out. We’re in this together, friends, choosing a wholehearted existence. Be brave.

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Wholehearted living – Guidepost #3 – Resiliency

We’ve arrived at month three of my year of wholehearted living. The third guidepost is letting go a numbing and powerlessness and cultivating a resilient spirit.

Defined, resiliency is “the ability to recover quickly from difficulties; toughness.” Reading this I thought, well, shoot, I’ve been resilient throughout my life! Thinking back, I recall the medical challenges with my foot amputation, moving homes several times as a child, family drama – like anyone else, broken teenage hearts, and I don’t even want to examine adulthood. But was I resilient in those moments or was it something else?

Think about your own life and the challenges you’ve faced. Capture them in your mind for a moment. What was your approach? At a glance, I would say that I was resilient. But this isn’t a glance, it’s a stare down. The honest truth is I numbed myself. Continuing to look forward, pushing aside pain or sadness. I’m certain I felt, or told myself, I was powerless to make any impact, so the easier choice was to numb, to tune out. Yes, I moved forward. Yes. I bounced back. But at the cost of not processing or sitting with the emotions I was having. Which is why, at 52 years old, I’m still working to identify my emotions and what I want my voice to be in the world. Does any of that sound familiar?

Finding your midpoint

Resiliency, bouncing back, does not involve numbing, or powerlessness. Imagine a line in your mind. The midpoint is how you show up in life from day to day. Your normal, everyday, self. When life knocks the crap out of you, in varying degrees, you fall off that midpoint. If you choose to numb, via whatever your tool of choice is, alcohol, television, shopping; or if you tell yourself you’re powerless, you stay down. We can’t live in the low lows or the high highs 100% of the time. Instead, we need hover around the midpoint.

Resiliency gets us there

The healthy way to return to our midpoint is via resiliency. Through practicing joy, collecting it, over time. Cultivating a jar of happy experiences that serve to right our ship when we’re out of sync. When I think back to those early years, that wasn’t my practice. Hence, the numbing. As we grow in life, we learn to choose joy. Think back to the line for a minute. When you fall away from your midpoint due to the inevitable pain that comes with life, the joy we’ve cultivated is like a trampoline. We bounce back faster because we know that even though we’re in pain, we can face it. There will be joy in our lives again. That doesn’t mean we avoid it, but we recognize our emotions and bounce back.

And it takes practice

To truly cultivate joy and build resiliency, we must practice. When difficult times come, and they will, practice identifying your emotions. Recognize them. Validate them. Acknowledge how you’re feeling and practice self-compassion, self-kindness. Remember that joy will return and take a breath. Hard times happen, but we can safely acknowledge and work through them. We can choose not to numb ourselves, to believe we’re powerless. Every single one of you has the power within you to be resilient. To choose the wholehearted way. It’s our journey, friends, and I’m on it with you.

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The path to a wholehearted life

IMG_2268For the past few years, I’ve chosen a word to guide the year. Not so much a new year’s resolution as a guiding light. My guidepost for the coming year. There’s been brave, authentic and last year was bold. December was winding down and I hadn’t spent much time thinking about the word I’d chose for 2020.

How do you get to that place, the one where you know that you know, you have clarity on what you need to do next? 2019 was one hell of a year, to put it mildly. Let’s just say that I had many opportunities to consider who I am and what I stand for. The clarity in that arena led to long thought out, tough decisions. Ones that left me with a picture that was different than the way I started the year.

Admittedly, I spent a solid portion of the year feeling a bit numb. And while that didn’t feel bold, the word I’d chosen, maybe it was. I made tough, bold choices, and now, days away from 2020, I find myself considering how the coming year could play out.

There was a time when I’d jump on the resolution bandwagon, knowing that if I didn’t have one mapped out, I’d be left behind. I’d reach the end of the year and have nothing to show for it. First of all, who even started the resolution business anyways? A likely culprit is Hallmark. Love ‘em, but there is a holiday for nearly every possible thing you can think of. All promoting the purchase of another card. Maybe a pitch guy thought resolution cards sounded like a winner of a plan. While the card may not have taken off, geez, the resolution idea did.

You can find posts and pictures, and everyone under the sun committing to their resolution at this time of the year. Bravo! I’m honestly not anti the resolution game. I do think, however, that there’s no reason to wait, start the plan when you think of it. But if marking it with the beginning of the year helps, more power to you.

In this season of midlife, the time of ditching what I thought was important, what the outside world may have told me, and instead looking within, I’ve found that focusing on a word for the year was more valuable. That’s what led me to brave a few years ago, memorialized by my first ever tattoo on my wrist. Be brave – it reminds me each time I look at it. The past few years, especially this one, have been filled with introspection. Considering where I am and how I want to live out these years of my life.

Within moments of contemplating my 2020 word, I had it. Influenced, I’m sure, by my trajectory in 2019 and what I’d brought into my life. Without blinking, I knew, WHOLEHEARTED. Yes, a nod to my girl crush Brené Brown, and a word that encapsulates who I want to be. Brené defines the concept:

Wholehearted living is about engaging in our lives from a place of worthiness. It means cultivating the courage, compassion and connection to wake up in the morning and think, No matter what gets done and how much is left undone, I am enough. It’s going to bed at night thinking, Yes, I am imperfect and vulnerable and sometimes afraid, but that doesn’t change the truth that I am also brave and worthy of love and belonging.

Yes. Wholehearted. For me, there is no choice. If you follow me and keep reading throughout the year, you’ll see the journey. I suspect it will be like the Russian nesting dolls. Going deeper and deeper into what my wholehearted life looks like.

And while wholehearted perfectly captures my journey, what about you? Have you considered how you want this one, fabulous, life to look? What you’d focus on if you stopped listening to the outside world and listened to what your heart is whispering when you slow down enough to hear it? The answer is within you, it always has been. I hope you’ll join me on this journey. The wholehearted journey. Happy New Year my friends.

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Lessons in Mindfulness

IMG_2165Everybody’s dream come true is a trip to the Social Security Office. Am I right? Seriously, what could be more fun that whiling away a morning waiting with your fellow citizens to tend to whatever it is that brought you there. This was my exact thought process, with a few detours, as I made my way to our local branch to tend to some business the other day.

I made my way in, got my number, and quickly saw there were at least a dozen people before me, well, if my determination of how the numbers were called was accurate. Settling in for the long haul, I read a magazine – I’ll admit, it was the AARP magazine, honestly there are good articles! – and the time ticked by. After what seemed like a short time, more like over an hour, my number was called. Proceeding to the window, I knew the adventure was nearing an end. But it wasn’t. I didn’t have the correct version of the document needed to do my business. Sigh.

Julia, my helpful clerk, told me what to do and off I went. A trip to another government office. Another hour plus wait, document secured. Back to Social Security, where Julia allowed me to skip the line. Fifteen minutes later, done.

The whole adventure took close to 4 hours with waiting and driving.

Normally, I would be highly agitated at what I’d consider to be a waste of time. But I wasn’t. Not even a little bit.

Surprised, I thought about why this time was different. One glaring fact presented itself. I was off work, still in the recovery period from foot surgery. If I wasn’t there, I would have been sitting in a chair at home, reading a magazine. Same plan, different environment.

I was in the moment without a pressing expectation that I should be somewhere else. ‘Enjoying’ it for what it was. Knowing the staff was moving us through as quickly as they could. And isn’t that what mindfulness is? Staying in the moment, experiencing what is, rather than projected expectations of where you want to be, or what you want to be doing? Anything other than what you’re doing in that moment?

Staying present made the experience just that, an experience. Nothing more, nothing less.

Why, then, is mindfulness so difficult to live out day by day? I get antsy. I think I can multi-task, although I’m learning that’s a scam. When I multi-task, I’m not paying 100% attention to either activity, and both show the result. I’ve read about, been taught about mindfulness over the last couple of years and not until my Social Security experience did it hit home so squarely.

Seeing how mindfulness changed my mindset was a game changer. Yes, I know mindfulness has been all the rage. Believe me, I’ve been on board conceptually. But really experiencing it? That made all the difference. My body and mind were in sync.

Raise your hand with me if you also need to experience before you jump on board. Anyone? Everyone? Yep, while I know there are the unicorns who can hear, understand and adopt, I’m not one of those people. The unexpected lesson in mindfulness may have been there prior to last week, but I didn’t see it. Wasn’t paying attention, which I suppose is part of the lesson.

While we move through the end of the year, with enormous amounts of competing priorities, what if we simply paid attention? The lessons are there. The mindfulness that leads to deeper engagement in our lives. It’s there. You likely don’t have the hinderence of your foot in a boot, which, by its nature slows you down, but you can make a choice. Slow down. BE in your experience, feel it, and fully enjoy it and, more importantly, those around you. You can do it friends, I’m right there with you, it’s our mindful journey.

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Looking at change differently

Flame to ChangeI LOVE CHANGE! Said no one, ever. Admittedly, my friend said it to me the other day, but she’s an anomaly. A lovely anomaly. Truth is, change can be difficult. In order to get to the new state, whatever it may be, you must end another. Oftentimes we approach change as though it’s a train. Everybody on board, into your new seats and away we pull from the station. Leaving behind the old way. No time for long, emotional goodbyes on the platform. It’s on to the new we go, looking back is for suckers.

Except.

Inherently change results in the ‘death’ of what was, and that comes with emotions that, if ignored, may have a damaging effect.

Change is often associated with business. The notion that ‘without change, we will perish.’ While there is truth to that, we encounter change in a wide array of places in our life, but don’t tie those to the word, hence we treat them differently. But they’re still change.

Your first, and then last child leaves for college.

You face a change in job.

After living in one place for many years, you move somewhere that’s altogether different.

You enter the middle of your life.

A relationship shifts…and then ends.

On the surface, we may not look at those instances as change, but they are. And with all certainty I can say they produce emotions that are far reaching. Until recently, one emotion hid in a corner. There, but I couldn’t quite identify it until someone else named it for me.

Grief.

Change results in grief. The closer the change is to us, the more significant the grief yet, we rarely take the time to acknowledge it, sit with it, process it.

I’m amid a change that, on the scale of 1-10 is an 11. It hurts, is raw and painful. In the several months I’ve been going through it I’ve often wondered if it should feel differently. In some respects, it felt like the wind got knocked out of me and I can’t quite catch my breath, and in others I feel relief. The conflicting emotions were confusing, and I wasn’t sure what to do with another one, numbness. Feeling nothing. New to me and arose as a defense mechanism, most certainly.

After the continuous swirl confusing emotions had continued beyond the point where I thought I could soldier through them any longer, I sought professional help. And exhaled. Within a short time, a new word surfaced that made sense to me and which I hadn’t considered. It was the one hiding in the corner, grief.

As though a light bulb had illuminated a previously dark space, I could see it. Of course, it was grief, yes! But now what? Oh, you mean I have to actually do something with it? Indeed. I was handed a tool that walked me through emotions I experienced, some named, others unnamed, all valid. And isn’t that the case for any of us in times of change? Sometimes we can’t put a name to the emotions we’re feeling, but once we either figure it out, after long suffering, or another person names it for us, it’s as though the final puzzle piece clicks into place.

Grief is normally associated with death, yet, when we think about death expansively, isn’t that what happens in change? One state ceases? Unless we acknowledge the ending, the new is tainted. Stained with the unresolved emotion we carry forward. We must grieve the loss and that phase may be brief, or it may span a longer time. But we must give it the time and space it warrants, or we’ll experience the aftermath.

Over a couple months, I worked through the grief exercise which culminated in reading it aloud. Yep, instead of simply having the thoughts in my head or on paper, I spoke them. As much as I wasn’t looking forward to that step, there was something cathartic about it. The exhale, feelings returning to my core. But once it was complete, I knew that holding on to those papers, what essentially was a letter, would only result in my returning to them. And there is no value in that. In any change, continuing to return to the emotions we feel during transition result in being stuck there. Which is counterintuitive to the process of moving through the grief cycle, feeling the feelings, in the first place. You don’t need to keep picking that scab.

So, I burned them. Ceremoniously, yet without fanfare, I placed them in the fireplace and lit a match. What I’d spent a couple months processing was ashes within minutes. When we go through change, whether personally or in business, we need to give grief the time it’s due. If we don’t, it’ll hide in the corner and come out in unhealthy ways. Destructive to you and the people around you. While not an easy process, one that is entirely worth the effort.

What change do you need to process? Give more time to? Realize the grief that is hiding, waiting for you to finally see it’s face? Friends, that’s the journey. Believe me, we’re in it together and my heart is for you. Sending you all the love. Be brave.

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Accepting help brings us closer

Miracle of helpingDeep breaths. Last words I heard the anesthesiologist say to me shortly before I drifted off to la-la land for surgery. Anesthesia is the closest thing to time travel we have these days. One minute you’re in an operating room and the next? You hear your name through a fog, slowly clearer and clearer, until you’re wide awake and looking at the aftermath. I’ve had a few surgeries throughout my life and remember the fading off and waking up from each. Something cemented in my mind.

You listen to your discharge instructions, yeah, yeah, got it. The implication of “non-weight bearing,” only sunk in after I got home and realized the full scope. Particularly in light of the fact I can’t balance on my other leg. I had the uncomfortable feeling of being helpless. Not completely, but most definitely dependent on others. There’s only so much you can do when you’re told to not have your foot unelevated for more than five minutes at a time. Five minutes? Two of those today were spent brushing my teeth! Three more isn’t enough to do much of anything.

So, I have to ask for help. There’s something that happens when we ask for and receive help, for us and the other person. It’s disarming, neutralizing. Especially when the help is needed for physical assistance. Whatever baggage might exist between you and the other rapidly fades as you work together towards a common goal. If you had a conflict, it fades in favor of peaceful co-existence.

But why? If we can erase, or at least diminish, conflict with another person when they are helping us or visa-versa, why won’t it come sooner?

I don’t suppose to have the magical answer, but there’s a common interest, a shared humanity, when you’re in the situation to help someone. Particularly if you both lean in. Being in a position of needing help is a vulnerable place, one where the mere act of asking itself is courage. And when you’re meeting another person’s need for help when they’re in that vulnerable place, you see them differently.

You’ve moved in.

That’s when we see people. In the moments of vulnerability. No masks, no pretense. Raw. Open. Unguarded.

Which may not be what we normally see. We’ve been programmed to be tough, to handle our own challenges. So, when we can’t, it might be a different side of us than people are used to. It’s your authentic self showing up. But those can be the best moments. With someone you trust, sharing an experience.

What if we could recreate the feelings that arise when we’re helping or being helped in everyday life? If we could see people as their true self? Unmasked and leaning in. We’d find ourselves in deeper relationships and healing hurts that keep us apart. That’s where we’d find a miracle. One worth seeking in this journey of life we’re navigating through. Day by day. Moving in to closer relationship. You may not need the help I do right now, but please, let your authentic self be seen. It’s worth the risk. You can do it, your brave my friend, and we’re doing it together.

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Better Boundaries

BoundariesIn the midst of an argument a few years ago, the phrase “drawing a line in the sand” was used towards me. Smack.in.the.face. The phrase conjures division, separation, black/white, a dualistic mindset. It feels like “you’re either with me or against me.” Not a phrase that builds relationships.

So, when I’ve thought about boundaries, line in the sand came to mind. But Brené Brown writes about boundaries and during Dare to Lead™ training, she spoke about them being one of the elements of Daring Leadership. Ok, fine…I’m paying attention. Turns out, boundaries are not only necessary, they’re part of authenticity and courage.

Yet, being an Enneagram 9 a people pleaser in recovery, boundaries feel difficult. How will I keep people happy, keep the peace, if I have boundaries? Don’t boundaries create distance between me and another person?

Turns out, yes and no. Boundaries are essential to our own authenticity. They tell people what is ok and not ok. When Brené talked about it in training, she made it sound like a piece of cake. “It’s ok for you to be frustrated about XX,” “it’s not ok for you to yell at me about it.” Huh. Sounds straightforward to me.

Except.

When I think about setting boundaries, it’s less a “piece of cake” and more a melted mud pie. So messy. But the flip side of not creating boundaries is resentment. If we don’t have a boundary around what’s ok and not ok, we give a “dirty yes,” the yes you regret, and resentment ensues. Not a recipe for successful relationships.

Boundaries are not a “line in the sand,” let’s be clear about that. They aren’t intended to keep people away, rather, they’re rules of engagement. For me, for you, to remain authentic, what is ok behavior and not ok behavior.

In order to create healthy boundaries, we first need to get clear on our values. What’s important to us, what guides the way. And from there, determine what behaviors allow us to stay within those values. I’ve learned from experience (and therapy!) that people pleasing only sets you up to lose track of your values, to operate outside of them so that you can keep someone else happy (which doesn’t really happen anyways.)

Once you’re clear on your values, operationalize them. Decide what they look like in practice and what will keep you authentic around values and what won’t. You could create a mantra to remind yourself. For example, integrity is one of my values. A mantra could look like, “integrity takes courage.” In the case of boundaries, courage because someone might be disappointed with me. And that’s ok. It rubs up against my peacemaking self, but peacemaking shouldn’t come at the cost of accepting behavior that pushes against my integrity and authenticity.

I often write about what I also need to learn and this is no exception. So, along with you, developing boundaries is a work in progress. But in order to stay within our own values, they’re necessary, and courageous. What they’re not is a “line in the sand,” challenging us to either be with or against someone. Instead, they encourage healthy relationships without resentment where we are our authentic selves. If you feel they’re hard, just keep practicing. You are courageous and bold, and beautifully authentic.

 

 

 

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When selfish is self-care

IMG_1523I 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.

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Embracing our changing purpose

Graceful AgingWhen 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.