Tag: Women

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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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The mother within us

MotheringToday is Mother’s Day and I’m thankful to have both of my children with me. Whenever my boys visit, they shower me with love and endless mocking. Yes, you read that right, mocking. We were alone during their adolescent years and developed a way of interacting all our own. A little poking here and there, but all in love, all in fun. That’s continued as they got older, and I actually enjoy watching them collaborate and laugh about the typically mom things I do.

I’ve noticed, as they’ve gotten older, gone from being children to grown adults, that the relationship changes. Awkwardly. Any mom’s out there feeling that? They’re biologically wired to start pushing away from their mom in the later teen’s, and by then we might be ready to be done anyways, at least some of the time. They want to be an adult, they’re not ready to be an adult. It’s a push pull that can be hard to navigate. But we do. Because we’re mom’s.

Parenting an adult child can be challenging because, as mom’s, I believe we’re always slightly tethered to them. The feeling fluctuates, but, let’s be real, we grew them in our bodies. There’s a bond there like no other. But as adults, we have to let them live their own lives. There are lessons we can’t learn for them, that they have to experience on their own. It’s from those pains, the successes, that they grow, and become resilient, responsible individuals. Separate and apart from us. It’s their path.

It’s the same thing our own mothers went through, God bless them. I don’t know about any of you, but me, in the teenage years… I would have wanted to be done with me. Cranky, hormonal, snippy, not kind to my mother for several years. But she stuck in there. When I became a mother, I gained a new appreciation for my own. I also had a bonus mom, my stepmother, who was like a mother to me in an infinite number of ways. For both her and my own mother, I am beyond grateful. They put up with me, know me so well they call me on my crap, and love me, unconditionally. That’s what mom’s do.

At the same time, I am mindful today that not everyone has that experience. Mother’s are people, and they have their own “junk,” (yes, me too), that can interfere with healthy parenting. In this phase of life, midlife, each of us has a choice, to hold on to that baggage from childhood, or to forgive. Let go of the ongoing impact. I believe that people, mothers included, do not show up each day wanting to suck. They want to do their best. But sometimes they don’t know how, or they’re managing pressures we have no clue about, that we can’t even imagine. Forgive.

My heart also breaks today for those who have lost their mother. The natural progress of life leads us to that point as we age, but others lose their mothers far too early. In cruel and unexpected twists, mothers are taken, forever impacting the lives of their children. I think of Rachel Held Evans who lost her life last week after what started as a simple infection. She leaves two small children and her husband. Forever impacted. Because of her presence in the progressive Christian “space” (for lack of a better name), people are coming alongside her family, supporting them, loving them. But the impact will be long lasting. Our job, those of us who are fortunate to continue on, is to come alongside families like hers, and those who no longer have their mother. Because we have abundant love to share.

I’m reminded of the idea “it takes a village.” We celebrate our own mothers today or because we’re mothers, but it took a village to get us here. And it will continue to take a village. Women supporting other women, because that’s what we do. The circumstances may be different, but we come alongside, and we support. In a way, Mother’s Day is for all of us. I’m thankful for my village, for each of you, and wish you a happy mother’s day.

 

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Slow the internal narrative

Conversations in my headIt’s a party! Seriously. Every day. In my head. The left, right, frontal, amygdala, all getting in the mix, spinning in so many different directions I get dizzy. I could label the voices, there are those that are what I suppose other people would be saying, a couple that swirl in ‘what if’ land, a few more that believe they’re in acting school – walking out a variety of conversations and situations at any given time… and then there are those that are quieter. The little girl inside me, the still, small voice of God. Those voices get drowned out most of the time by the others that are arm wrestling for front and center, but they’re there.

I began to hone in on the voices, the tornado of thoughts, a few years ago, realizing that all the noise (because that’s what it is, loud, obnoxious noise) is nothing more than that. It’s not actually what’s happening. It’s easy to convince yourself that the way you play things out in your mind will happen, but still, it’s not truth, not fact. Yet, the voices are so distracting. They can divert us from life right in front of us. In our minds, we can make situations so much worse.

When I started to become aware of the runaway train in my mind was around the same time I began learning about mindfulness. The practice of being present. Of eliminating the distractions so that I can be present with myself or with others in the moment. It made sense to me. But in practice, was not quite a simple as it presented itself to be.

For one, the voices in my mind still would not shut up. Determined to create more stillness, I turned to  meditation. Years ago, I would meditate daily, truly helpful I believe. But it fell away as my time became tighter. To quiet my mind, I tried a meditation app, one that had guided meditation. If someone else was talking, there was a much higher likelihood that my mind wouldn’t. By and large that worked, not entirely, but slowly it got better. I found that 15 minutes a day can be carved out and the stillness has a trickling effect throughout the day.

Another idea I was encouraged to try was eating without distraction. No book, no phone, no TV – even when I was alone. Ummm, seriously? When I was with another person, no problem. But alone? What would I do with my mind? That was the point. Nothing. Focus on the food, the texture, the flavor, the experience.  I started experimenting with it. I can not promise you I’m a poster child for it, but I’m working on it.

Mindfulness would have you stop multi-tasking, which is a sham anyways. You can’t effectively focus on two things at a time. You’ll end up half focusing, or less, on both. I find I have an advantage here because my mind has less capacity to multi-task than it used to. The desire is there, but less so because my brain straight up doesn’t want to work like that. So, one thing at a time.

Ok, so a few mindfulness tactics worked in, and they help. But the internal narrative is still there. The difference is I can see it happening. I began using a strategy last year of naming the voices. Is it the voice of fear, or perseverance, maybe joy? And I would ask myself, what is it trying to tell me? I also started asking the voices questions. What was the little girl in me trying to tell me, to remind me of? Truly listen to what I was hearing.

If we’re honest, most of us have the voices. The question is how can you be the one calling the shots instead of them? What mindful practices can you put in place to quiet them? What are they trying to tell you? Just for a moment, take a breath in, hold it, gently sigh out. Do you feel the stillness? I encourage you to engage that practice, or another mindfulness practice several times during the day and still your mind. And when you’re ready, listen carefully, your wisdom will be ready to talk to 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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Be Still

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

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

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

But…

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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What sparks your joy?

Tidying UpI finally did it. I’ve watched episodes of The Art of Tidying up with Marie Kondo. I’ve talked about it. I’ve encouraged others to do it. I fully embraced the idea on behalf of other people. In fact, I embraced it within my own home…everywhere but my closet. I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Let me take that back, I did, but not the full, throw your clothes in the middle of the room and start from scratch version.

Until yesterday. I was having breakfast with a girlfriend who has done significant cleaning out of her closet. She spoke of how freeing it was. How happy she was to enter her closet in the morning and not spend hours debating what to wear. I recall reading during the Obama presidency that Barrack had a standard look, nearly always wearing the same style and material — a two-button, single-breasted suit jacket and single pleated pant with inch-and-a-quarter cuffs. It was called “The Obama Suit.” He’d mix it up by switching his tie, blue or red. That’s it. With the number of critical decisions, he had to make each day, he said he wanted to eliminate what to wear from the equation. If the leader of the free world could simplify his wardrobe, there was hope for me.

I was finally convinced, or maybe better said, resigned, to ‘Sparking Joy’ in my closet. (If you’re unfamiliar, Marie says to hold each item and ask yourself if it sparks joy.) Admittedly, I have an attachment to my clothes. I converted a spare bedroom into a Diva Den/ closet…it’s my happy space. I have enjoyed procuring my wardrobe. The sales, the deals, the beautiful items. But over the years, even though I have cleaned it out here and there, I haven’t really combed through and given away the items that don’t serve me.

As I piled the clothes into the middle, I felt growing stress in my gut. I twinge that I was betraying them. They’d waited patiently to be worn, some longer than others. In Kondo’s method, you pick up each piece and decide if it sparks joy. If not, you thank it and put it in the giveaway pile. I put on my jammin’ girl anthem songs and got going. The fact that my anxiety level was mitigated only by dancing around my room told me I needed to do this. I discerned if I was feeling joy or was it just reflux with each item.

The giveaway pile grew and eventually I made it through everything on the floor and moved on to drawers. In the end, I amassed what I’d call a good-sized pile to give away. When I was done, I thought about the feelings I’d had during the process. The goal for me was to create happiness in my closet instead of feeling overwhelmed by decisions each time I went in to get dressed. Reduce decision fatigue and the body shaming that came from picking out an item only to have it not fit or fit poorly  -#midlifechallenges.

Goal accomplished. At least I think so. I think I still have a hangover from the stress of the process. I know it was supposed to spark joy, and I’m looking for it. Here’s what I know. The desire to reserve my energy for the positive aspects of life is compelling. I’m also weary of the feelings and negative self-talk when I get dressed in the morning. Did I spark joy? I’m going to say yes. Joy because I weeded through the feelings that had held me back from this process. Joy in taking bold steps towards what I want to have in my life.

What will bring you joy? It might not be your closet, but could you make a choice to surround yourself only with people and items that bring you joy? There are so many factors in life that we cannot control, but we can choose to bring joy into our surroundings. Look around you and ask yourself if you see joy. If not – get moving. Spark joy within yourself and then spread it to the people around you.

 

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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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Becoming who you are

Let go of youI find personality tools to be fascinating. Ways to learn more about myself and other people from different perspectives. I recently took a workshop on the Enneagram. If you want to get straight to the heart of how you’re wired, dip your toe into this tool. I sat in a cramped room, snacking my way through a fire hose of information for four hours. Literally, an immense amount of information. Enough to scare away someone who hadn’t read about it ahead of time. Thankfully, I had.

In a nutshell, the Enneagram is a framework to give us tools to shed the masks we wear by discerning what is true and original from the false ways we’ve adapted so that our original essence can emerge. Strip off the masks and get back to the true self God made you to be.

What’s hard for some is seeing the ways they’ve adapted to survive the world around them. You must be willing to see that, even in an idyllic childhood, each of us had to cope with something. You may not have had a tragic childhood, or maybe you did, but you had unmet mental and emotional needs that resulted in the development of coping mechanisms. The coping mechanisms are what evolve into our adult personalities.

Over the last few years, I’ve spent endless hours reading, learning, to understand myself and my wiring. It’s not purely for the sport of it though. Nor is it to look back at childhood or earlier life experiences and criticize them or use them as an excuse. It’s simply to understand so that I can make informed, different decisions in my life. The Enneagram is one of the tools to do that. Where people make a mistake is believing it, or any other tool, is the end all be all. We are not one dimensional. God didn’t make us that way. He is not one dimensional and we’re made in his image. There’s more to each of us than meets the eye.

That said, the Enneagram explained what I already knew about myself. I desire harmony, to live in peace. Doesn’t everyone? It comes from a false belief that I’m only ok if everyone around me is ok. Consciously, I know that’s not true, but I also know I’ve constructed much of my life around that idea. My chosen career in human resources allows me to resolve conflict at work, keep the peace. I became a coach to help others resolve inner conflicts. I’ve done it in my life, I mediated my kid’s arguments because it was too stressful to have the tension. But I’ve also avoided conversations for the sake of keeping the peace.

There’s a quote I’ll butcher…”once you’ve seen, you cannot un-see…” that I believe reflects my thoughts about the Enneagram and other tools to understand people, me included. It put words to what I already knew about myself, consciously or unconsciously. I think this mid-life journey is about doing something with the wisdom and discernment I’ve gained with those tools. To ignore that knowledge and be asleep to my life isn’t who God made me to be.

And that life might be uncomfortable. It’s requires letting go of the coping mechanisms I’ve used in order to have true peace, harmony and love. To assert my own beliefs, needs and desires even when they might cause tension. Trusting that the peace I desire comes from God and there’s room for me to be myself in His vision of my life. It’s getting back to my authentic self, not someone different, simply the me that’s been in there the whole time. Is it a bold move? Maybe. But that’s the journey I’m on.

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Layers of our heart

layersWith a bit of reluctance, I’ve begun seeing a chiropractor. I’ve been in the past to others, with degrees of success, but I sought this person out at the suggestion of a co-worker because of their methods. The doctor looks at my spinal and nerve structure from a few different perspectives, including the bone alignment, nerve impingement and muscle structure. Turns out, I’m a bit of a hot mess on the inside, and we’re on a correction plan which should lead to better overall health.

Here’s the thing about going through this type of treatment, areas where I’d experienced pain in the past are resurfacing. I thought I’d healed the pain in my hip, for example, and then, wham! it’s back. The doctor explained our body finds ways to compensate misalignment and cover it up. Those areas come back as we do the work to heal. I think about the earth’s surface. Archeologists could explain what we’d find as we dig down through the layers dirt and rock. We’d resurface all types of history as well as damage.

In a way, our emotional lives are a parallel to my body healing, and the earth’s surface. Throughout our lives, we experience joy and heartache to varying degrees. While we work to move past and through those situations, the degree to which they are healed is a different ballgame. And, not unlike the earth’s surface, when you dig in, you might accidentally come upon a landmine.

I’ve found that in my own life. Over time, I’ve experienced those joys, and heartaches, and those were generally not in isolation. Other people were often involved. And each of us heals or moves past emotional situations at our own pace, in our own way. Where we step on the landmine is to make assumptions that other people are having the same experience that we are, healing and moving past at the same rate.

I make those mistakes. For as much as I strive to keep my expectations on lock down, I develop ideas about how situations will flow. That’s when the landmines come up. Usually it’s because I’ve been operating in isolation and might believe I’m taking someone else’s feelings into consideration, or have expectations about how they’ll respond, but I’m not asking questions. I’m only looking from my perspective. Writing my own story.

Those lessons can be painful. Which, I am not a fan of. Not in the slightest. The interesting thing is that the pain reveals the area where more work is needed. But wouldn’t we all want to find another way? I’ve been pondering that this week and I believe there is.

Wait for it…

Vulnerable communication. Honestly, I think it’s that simple. Get to know and understand the layers of the people you’re closest to. The ones who share the ripples of joy and heartache with you. Ask about their experience, listen, show empathy. Be in the space with them and ask that they do they same for you. In all honestly, I’m talking maybe 1-2 people. The ones who’ve witnessed the intimacies of life with you.

Each one of us has a desire to be seen, and if we really want to be seen, we must be bold enough to show our layers. At least to those who have earned the right to be there. Start where you’re comfortable but start. Been seen for all the beautiful layers that you’re made of.