Tag: women’s coaching

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Why choose creativity over comparison?

My children’s grandmother is an artist. I mean, an actual artist, as in, makes a living selling her paintings. Naturally when my children were young, I imagined they would be protégés or born with her innate talent to create. As early as it seemed appropriate, we had crayons and colored, I engineered art projects for nearly every birthday party, I wanted to spark the bug within them to create.

Hanging in my guest bathroom for many years was a painting by my older son, Carson. It was precious and, although it no longer graces my walls, I have it, as I always will, because I am a mother. He recently painted an “installation” for his apartment that I love, and it delights me that the creative bug lives on. Is my younger son creative? Yes? It’s demonstrated through his passion for plants, their growth, structure and patterns. I will go with that as his creative streak.

But if I compared them to their grandmother…are they artists?

What is creative?

One of the challenges internally with creativity is its subjective nature. Not black and white, subject to the eye of the beholder. What makes it ‘good’ or ‘bad’ is up for debate. While the kids’ grandmother is an artist, is it possible that’s a construct? She paints (beautifully), it appeals to an audience, it’s recognizable, and people want to pay money for it, therefore, we call her an artist.

But what about me? Earlier today, I decided to create a picture for a blank wall in my powder bath and with inspiration from Henri Matisse, a flower-esque canvas was born. Does that make me an artist? I write this blog every week in addition to innumerable other posts and documents, does that make me a writer?

Why comparison enters the picture

Because we desire to add definition to our activities, we compare to others. I may look at artists and evaluate my creation compared to theirs. Is it as good? Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. Am I an artist? The same comparison exists for writing, or any other creative endeavor.

And the unfortunate result is that we subconsciously stifle ourselves. Because we determine that whatever it is that we’re doing is ‘less than’ what someone else has created. Why do we have this insatiable desire to put a label on it at all? When we do, we’re missing the point. Creativity is subjective. It’s not up to you to determine if I am an artist, or a writer, that’s up to me. Determining if you’re an artist is up to you and you alone.

Which is easier said than done.

Wholehearted living lets go of comparison

Truthfully, I’d like to say I don’t compare myself to anyone. That I believe I’m an artist and a writer. That would be a lie. In real life, I hesitate to use those labels. I compare my ‘art,’ my ideas, my vision (because creativity is far more than visual arts) to others to determine the good/bad factor. The Wholehearted Living Guidepost capturing my attention this month is choosing creativity over comparison.

Comparison needs to stop. Do you know one of the reasons I’ve continued to exercise my creativity? Because it brings me joy. I love writing. I love painting, or creating, or dreaming up creative solutions, or schemes or ideas. When we compare, we look at another person’s exterior, at their finished product, and think we’re seeing the entire picture.

We only have the full picture of ourselves

We’re not seeing the whole picture. Each person projects the part of themselves they want others to see. Including us. We show the world around us what we want them to see. Maybe it’s only the best pieces of art, or pictures, or selfies, or writing, or we filter our ideas, our suggestions, our creativity. We run it through our internal comparison meter first to determine if it’s good enough for others to see.

That’s what they’re doing to. Wholehearted living requires us to stop comparison. Let the creativity flow. Encourage it in yourself and others. Know that we may be on this journey together, and our paths may be crossing, but our footsteps are not the same. We need every single one. Together, we complete the picture. You’re creative, you’re an artist, you’re brave, my friend. Sending you love. Lisa

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Why it may be time change your mind

Or more appropriately, the time has come to change your mind.

While not a fan of the word “should,” I’m putting it out there, because within the United States there is no other option for many of us but to change our minds. I posted last week about being raised in an environment which, from my perspective, appeared to be absent of discrimination. And by and large, I stand by that. But I’m wondering if maybe that wasn’t enough.

Because not talking about it, while ok, doesn’t equip you to stand for anything. We should change that. We MUST change that. I don’t say that disparagingly about where I grew up and the environment there, or in my home. But beyond the events of the last week, the last few years have opened my eyes to a broader scope of reality. Which is this: the number of people who are marginalized and fighting for recognition and respect should make you weep. Until you see those realities up close, you may not even realize they exist.

I am up close.

Within my family are two of the most beautiful boys who are gay. Do I worry about them? Yes. Because I’m a mother. But also because there are people within this country continuing to believe that being created perfectly as a child of God exactly as you, anywhere on the LGBTQIA spectrum, is somehow wrong. As if you can change it. You can’t. God loves them, I love them, they are perfectly made. Period.

And once this mother wrapped her heart and mind around that fact, my heart was cracked open. Not only for the LGBTQIA community but for all marginalized people.

That’s how it works.

You begin to see the fractures within the social justice system once you’re up close. The events of the past week in the U.S. highlighted racism that continues to marginalize significant groups of people. And as I’ve felt drawn to reach out to my black and brown brothers and sisters, I realize that I have lived with the benefit of unearned privilege that wasn’t even on my radar. Not seeing the disparity between what I think is ‘normal’ and the experience among BIPOC (Black, Indigenous, and People of Color).

My mind has changed.

Each one of us should be examining our hearts and mind and asking questions. Which means talking about it. We need to be learning about the experience of other people whose childhoods were not like our own. Who are not living today with the same liberties we may take for granted.  That person might be our neighbor. There was a time when a Hispanic friend and I spent a great many hours together -living life. Not once during those months did I learn (or ask) of the racist comments made to him during his childhood, in the same neighborhoods where we lived that day. The names he was called. I learned those facts last week, because I shared a desire to learned from my BIPOC friends and he reached out. I am grateful for friends who are willing to engage in necessary conversations.

Do the best you can until you know better.

Then when you know better, do better.

Maya Angelou

Once I was told “You’ve changed,” as an accusation. As though it was a betrayal. It was not. What is a betrayal is to see the truth, what’s true for you, and continue to live outside your integrity. Brené Brown defines integrity as “Choosing courage over comfort; choosing what’s right over what’s fun, fast and easy; and choosing to practice our values over simply professing them.” Integrity is one of my core values, and I choose courage.

Do I have all of this figured out? Not even a little bit. But what I do know is I have a lot to learn. I suspect many of us do. Learn about the experience that is different than our own, by listening, by asking questions. Have brave conversations. Lift up the voices of those who are different providing a platform to speak their truth.

And those words, I hope they change your heart. They’re changing mine.

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Why we need to question the truth

As infants, we are nothing if not great observers. Helpless, we soak up the words, emotions, actions of our caregivers. Our decision-making defaults to what we’ve been handed through our genes, through Epigenetics, and childhood experiences. Since our parents are ‘without fault’ we trust and rarely question the ‘truth.’ But what if that truth is tainted?

Because it is.

Irrespective of who your parents are, or the parent you are to your children, the ‘truth’ we are taught and pass down is tainted. It’s inherited, and perhaps refined through the generations, but it’s based on a history of beliefs and how we’ve experienced life. We’re taught, and teach, what we’ve been programmed to believe, which can be positive or maybe not. Think for a minute about the first time you chose a political party. Republic, Democrat, Libertarian…lots of options these days. And for a barely legal adult of 18, whose brain is not yet fully formed, let’s be honest, the simplest option was to go with what Mom and Dad chose.

Which works, maybe forever, or maybe not. The point is not your political party, it’s the immense influence how we were raised has on our decision making, our evaluation of good and bad.

Where our ‘truth’ come from

I was primarily raised in Yosemite National Park. This is not a headline to anyone who has read my blog. Visitation was seasonal, with the majority of people flooding into the park in the spring, summer and early fall. Winter was crickets. Thus, the workforce fluctuated similarly, with around 800 additional employees, at that time mainly college students, arriving for the summer. As children, those of us living in the park saw those people, visitors and employees, and didn’t think much about them other than ‘will they buy lemonade from the stand I set up in my yard?’

While there wasn’t tremendous diversity in the ranks of those living in the park year-round, nonetheless, I don’t know that I could even detail it for you. Because, in my recollection, it was never a topic. Similarly, when my left foot was amputated at 4 while living in the park, it was not a topic. I started school that fall with the same friends I’d played with since moving to Yosemite and have zero recollection of it ever being an issue. Irrespective of race, disability, or sexual identity, honestly, my memory of that place and those days did not include conversations, about race, disability or sexual identity in a) my home from my parents, or b) in the community.

Was I naïve to it? Maybe. But that sense of inclusion carried forward into adulthood.

So, when I see people in any of those or other marginalized communities being treated differently because of a factor they can not change, I don’t understand. Or, I used to not understand. But as I’ve studied and come to understand that not all, in fact many people do not share my lens, my gratitude for a childhood experience that did not include discrimination swells. Was it there? Again, maybe, but not from my lens.

As I learn more from people different than me about their life experience – which is essential – my heart breaks a little more each time. I see the privilege automatically bestowed on me as a straight, white, woman. Factors that would never enter my mind as prevalent for many. I am also fortunate that the ‘programming’ I received from my parents was not exclusionary.

We must question the ‘truth’

But I have found, as you may have, myself in groups that are exclusionary. Subtly at first until I noticed it, and then it smacked me in the face, and I couldn’t unsee it. When you know that people you love would not be allowed to fully participate, the place you’ve chosen is no longer your place. This is when you must take a stand and question what has been said to be ‘true’, which is not easy. Because within the group you have belonging. And though you may only appear to have adopted their belief system, your belonging is dependent on it. So, when you begin to question, to wonder out loud if beliefs could be different, you risk your belonging.

Which none of us want to do.

But we must. If we find ourselves within a group or system that does not love, accept and celebrate all people, our belonging is not worth it. And I will tell you friends, that sucks. I won’t pretend it doesn’t. But our integrity is worth it. Belonging based on standing outside ourselves is nothing but hustling for our worth. And I don’t know about you, but I’d rather standalone than hustle. If this is your journey, hang in there. It’s not easy, I know it’s not easy, but we must. We are brave. We have each other. Sending you love.

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What’s the worst that could happen?

Try it, you’ll like it.  The well-known catch phrase from the 70’s, not, as I learned while researching, from a Life Cereal ad, but instead, Alka Seltzer. Which makes it more apropos, because I’ve been pondering venturing into unknown territory. Leaving certainty. In the ad, the encouragement to try it is made with assurance because if heartburn arose, Alka Seltzer would surely resolve it.

What’s the worst that could happen?

I work with a coach of my own who frequently asks me, “what if you did it anyways?” I assure you this is one of dozens of ways she’s figured out work to challenge me to think counter to my certainty-based thinking pattern when it comes to branching out. As we labored through my resistance, she flipped a switch for me. Beginner’s fear, she called it, which is another form of Imposter Syndrome. Defined as,

 “The persistent inability to believe that one’s success is deserved or has been legitimately achieved as a result of one’s own efforts or skills”

According to Buck Stewart on Medium, we may experience it when starting something new, a job, a skill, putting our gifts into the world for the first time.

In 2018 I attended Brave Magic with Elizabeth Gilbert and Cheryl Strayed at the 1440 Multiversity. Nestled in the Santa Cruz Mountains, the picturesque grounds and chill vibe give the illusion you’ll float through your experience. I did not. I believed it was a writing workshop, and it was. All about my inner shadows. Surrounded by 600 others, many published authors, I had the joy of sharing my writing with a perfect stranger, but only after digging deep into my soul. I felt over my head and intimidated the entire time. It was not chill. It was therapy. I downloaded the experience in this blog sharing the imposter’s syndrome that stayed with me through much of the weekend.

Several days have passed since idea of beginner’s fear was again posed to me, leaving time for multiple dots to connect. Namely that with anything new, including activities that tap into areas of strength, trepidation is not uncommon. You’re moving from certainty to relying on your experience and intuition. And the stakes are increased if the new thing includes uncertainty, risk and emotional exposure, aka, vulnerability.

Rewiring our minds for uncertainty

The path to wholehearted living requires we move from certainty into trusting intuition and faith. Predictability replaced with trust in yourself, having faith. But it’s not a matter of flipping a switch. Certainty is safe and unknown. Neurologically, our brains will search for what is familiar. We see different as a threat. Dr. Kristin Beasley, PhD, a trusted friend of mine, shared a compelling talk on just this topic, diving into the neuroscience behind how our brains see difference, particularly in regard to diversity, in her Quarantine with Dr. B series on Facebook. You can watch the episode on YouTube.

Our brains have the powerful ability to keep us safe, but we’re not being chased by a T-Rex on our way home from the grocery store. The more we expose ourselves to new experiences, challenges, people, the stronger the neurological pathways connecting different to safe instead of danger.

Embrace your intuition

Growth lies on the other side of certainty. And if we’re not growing, then what? For me, particularly now that I’ve hit the “middle of life,” becoming stale is not an option. Consciously aware that I’m walking out the second half of my life, the importance of growth and trusting my intuition is increasingly important. Midlife isn’t a dead end, it’s a spotlight. Showing us the areas in our life where we’ve been ‘phoning it in.’ It’s time to follow our inner calling and continue in spite of beginner’s fear because…

What’s the worst that could happen?

I, for one, am willing to walk it out. Are you with me? What’s the still, small voice within you saying? Perhaps it’s no longer quiet, but instead a loud roar. Friends, you are not alone. And I assure you, we are not imposters in our own lives. We are walking out our inner calling together. Trusting our intuition and rewiring our brains to embrace different. No one else will live it out for us. It’s our journey, let’s Be Brave.

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Giving yourself permission to dream

Dream big! The lesson of childhood. Embrace the unknown, explore, wander, daydream. My neighbor, Sarah, and I regularly gathered underneath the apple tree growing in the meadow in front of our houses. I have vivid memories of detailed planning for an apartment we were going to construct. First, in an underground bunker we’d dig in the bare dirt patch at the base of the tree. Second, in the branches of the tree, which we regularly climbed. We envisioned the separate living spaces and ‘fancy’ layout of our magical dream pad. Barbie’s dreamhouse paled in comparison. We couldn’t have been more than 4 or 5 years old.

Though we valiantly dug in that dirt, and gazed skyward, our outdoor living spaces never came to be.

Why our dreams fade

But we had the dream, and we stuck with it. In the end, someone likely told us the infeasibility of our plan and it faded out of our minds. Children dream big. They can see what adults view as impossible because they haven’t been conditioned to believe otherwise. With the intent of protecting our kids from the heartache of disappointment, we gently squash their plans and keep them safe.

Slowly, year by year, we’re guided to reduce risk. Gently nudged towards a mindset of certainty. I’ll raise my hand and acknowledge that’s where I landed, in the sea of certainty. Trained to consider risk and minimize it in my decision making. Though I’ve rebelled against that thought pattern in some respects, my athletic pursuits for example, I’m staunchly in the camp when it comes to decisions that involve my own entrepreneurial spirit and stepping to the side of a traditional career.

Whose voice is squashing your dreams?

During a meditation and mindfulness workshop this morning, it dawned on me that the frustration I felt about my glacial paced activity to grow different aspects of my career wasn’t frustration at all. At the root of it was the judgement I imputed upon myself. The voice in my head wasn’t my own, it was the voice of authority telling me how foolish it would be to branch out. To step into a space of trusting my intuition and having faith in the process. Judgement for stepping outside of certainty.

And it made me think about how often we kill our own dreams before they have a chance to fully develop. Before they are ready to fly. When we have uncertainty about the outcome the tendency is to revert to planning. To engineer the risk out of the dream, making it benign enough that the risks are minimal. We wait for unspoken permission to pursue our own dreams. We shift from big sky dreaming to vanilla…and not even Madagascar vanilla…boring, plain vanilla.

What’s the fun of that?

Making space for dreaming

Embracing Brené Brown’s Wholehearted Living Guidepost of letting go of certainty and embracing intuition and faith, touches more than one area of our lives. It permeates throughout. We are not meant to be kept on a shelf, wrapped up neat and tidy. Think about a dream of your own, one that you set aside because you had to be “responsible.” Or that was risky. What did you gain by postponing or dropping it? What would you have gained by pursuing it? And…if you pursued it and it didn’t work out, what’s the worst that would have happened?

Imagine you allowed yourself to play through a dream or desire that churns inside you. What would be different in your life a year from now? Don’t get stuck in how to get there, dream. Allow your mind to go to the natural conclusion. Once you have that dream fully formed? Do it. Seriously. Stay focused on the end goal and move forward, one step at a time. The truth is you might only know the first couple steps. That’s ok. Start there and the rest will unfold at the time it’s supposed to. Be open, be curious, trusting your intuition.

I believe in you. The voices that tell you otherwise can take a hike, they are not living your life. You can keep waking up each day with unlived dreams or you can embrace them. Give yourself permission to pursue your dreams! We’re on the journey together friends. Be brave.

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Beginning to unravel certainty

Within our lives exist deeply personal journeys that can only be taken one step at a time. There are no shortcuts, no ‘Collect $200 and advance to GO.’ Slowly, painfully at times, I’ve worn holes in my shoes pacing and scuffing the floor as a distraction, a hesitation. At the same time, this particular one has brought me to a place of peace within myself. Wrestling with how I walk out my faith.

And while I’m not entirely ‘there’ yet, considerable ground has been traversed. And the not knowing yet is a component of the peace. Focusing each month on one of Brené Brown’s Guideposts for Wholehearted Living has resulted in a journey of its own thus far. But this month’s is timely, “Letting go of the need for certainty and Embracing intuition and trusting faith.” Buckle up.

Raise your hand if you were raised “in church.” Me too. Each Sunday we’d make our way to the little chapel in Yosemite Valley – picturesque really – to sit for an hour on hard, wooden benches and listen to our conservative pastor share the Word. I was even baptized in the Merced River that meandered through the meadow across the street.

Looking back, church was the event. Being a Christian was simply who we were in my family. Like many, once I was out of the house, regular church attendance became a sporadic event. That was, until my kids were on the scene and a nagging moral obligation to return to the chapel poked at me long enough that I listened.

Certainty enters the picture

Fast forward to early midlife when I was ‘all in’ at church again. Attending a hip, cool one that met in a movie theater, I drank it in, meeting supportive, loving people. Over the years, I recall hearing about something called Apologetics, which sounded boring to my non-analytical brain. Here’s how the internet defines it: reasoned arguments or writings in justification of something, typically a theory or religious doctrine. In my words, it’s a way to ‘prove’ your beliefs about God, Jesus and the Bible. Apologetics is rooted in certainty.

Which is why I never grabbed on to it. My faith was never about certainty. It was about trusting the knowing in my heart, still is. Never did I feel compelled to argue for it. Some would say that’s part of my Christian “job.” Ok. That doesn’t change anything for me. Still not going for it. When you let go of certainty, you open space to wonder. A space to ask questions, to listen to what the whisper of your heart is telling you.

Letting go of certainty

And I have a LOT of questions and wonder. Maybe you do to. Or not…and if that’s the case…cool for you. Throughout the month, thoughts which brew in my mind I’ll be throwing out for consideration, but not all at once. Letting go of certainty may be a journey you’re also on. Perhaps it’s about your faith, or maybe about an aspect of your life you held as true but now you wrestle with it. In case no one else has told you, you’re allowed. You can have questions, you can challenge popularly held beliefs, you can wonder. The world will not end.

Trusting your intuition

Because whatever you believe, about faith or something else, it’s honestly no one else’s business. What is your intuition telling you? The rumblings of your heart? Those nudges that push you towards asking questions, that’s your intuition, it’s the still small voice. And if you’re scared? It could be a sign that you’re on to something big. Something within you than needs to be explored. Go there. Know though that your exploration may not be popular. And still, it’s ok. As we explore this subject and we’ll also talk about the cost. But not today. Today, simply wonder and trust your intuition. I’m on the journey with you. Be Brave.

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How to take off your masks

When I was a little girl, I wanted to be a doctor. Specifically, a baby doctor. Babysitter extraordinaire for my neighborhood, I could not get enough of the babies. At 14, the nuance that obstetrician also meant gynecologist, and that the only involvement with babies this girl would have was coming out, was lost on me. If my poor results in science classes hadn’t have dissuaded me from pursuing that passion, our current requirement to wear masks would have.

How doctors and nurses are wearing them all day long escapes me. I wear mine to the store and am half convinced I’m going to hyperventilate before I exit the produce aisle. If told I had to wear it continuously, I’d have to find a new profession. Which is why I will remain working at home as long as necessary to avoid donning my mask on a consistent basis.

You might be nodding along with me, high fiving me, yeah! Wearing a mask, while currently necessary in public, is not my dream come true.

So, why do we do it?

Why do we put forward a version of ourselves that guarantees belonging but is less than our true and authentic self? That is a mask. It’s not an act of deception, it’s an act of desperation. One we believe necessary. Because deep in our hearts, we’re afraid that if people saw who we really were, at our core, the messy, confused, questioning, silly, goofy self we are, they wouldn’t like us. If they saw that we aren’t convinced that what we’ve been told to believe our entire lives made sense, at least not 100% of it, we’d be out of the club.

And we desperately want to be part of the club.

We want to belong

As women, many of us are “faking it to protect our belonging,” according to Jen Hatmaker, and I agree. We don’t set out of wear a mask. It’s not one of the lessons we learn as a child. It’s not our heart to deceive anyone. But as we mature, we notice how people respond to us. We see what gains positive attention and what gains negative attention. We learn to fit in…to go along…to not make waves. And as we do, we’re slowly giving away parts of ourselves. Because the club…we think it’s everything.

The club wants to keep us as a member. They’ll double down if they see us start to ask questions. Or if we start to behave in a manner that isn’t ‘acceptable.’ “You’ve changed!” they cry, shaming us into circling back to our thoughts, our beliefs, our behaviors that fit in. And we do it. For a while. We continue wearing our mask, conforming, fitting in. Not voicing what the still small voice is telling us.

Healthcare workers on the front line have taken pictures showing the result of wearing their masks constantly. Marks, rashes, evidence of covering their face. Not dissimilar to what happens to our hearts, our inner self, our own souls, when we keep the mask on, covering who we are, it leaves a mark. Unlike healthcare workers, we have a choice, we can take off our mask.

What happens when the mask comes off

And it may very well have consequences. We need to re-navigate our relationships, some of which may not survive. When we step into our true selves, depending on the size of the step, we may lose relationships. Lose our club membership. But we maintain our integrity. If we continue to fake it, we will slowly be eaten up inside. I know, I’ve been there. I had simmering anger inside me that I couldn’t even name. Until I did. I had no other choice but to take off the mask. And it came with a high cost.

So, for you, what is the mask you’re wearing? Or better yet, what is your still small voice telling you? Has the time come that you listen? If it has, know that it is worth it. More than anything, it is worth it. To be at peace with yourself, with your integrity, it’s worth it. Know that you’re not alone on the journey, I’m right there with you. Be Brave.

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What do you need to discover within silence?

Unexpected circumstances led to my son returning to live with me two weeks ago, accompanied by his puppy. Koa is a year and a half, we believe a full blood Australian Shepherd, and attached to Bodie’s hip. Seriously. She follows him everywhere and only now, two weeks in, do I see her entertaining the idea that I may not be a threat. Yesterday, she remained on the ottoman with my feet long after Bodie made his way upstairs. Win.

What lies in the silence?

I’m no canine expert, in fact only within the past few years have I completely overcome my intense fear of dogs. The multiple dog bites of my youth cemented that. But what strikes me about Koa is her silence. Rarely does she bark, I can’t recall hearing her whine – even when patiently sitting next to me while I prepare dinner using her mind melting skills…drop.the.carrot. She’s sweet as can be, but she’s also timid and shy. Less so as she warms up to me, but she hasn’t let down her guard yet.

As I’ve been observing her, coupled with Bodie’s belief that she was abused based on her behavior (he’s had her 2 months), I wonder about the life she lived with her prior owner. A life which resulted in her shying away, approaching you with her head down, responding in a non-correlative way to correction…far more reactive than the rebuke she’s given.

Unlocking your inner-self

My heart wishes that she could tell me what her soul feels. What is locked inside from her life experiences so that we could help heal her with our love.

It’s the same thing I want for myself. The same thing I want for you.

Literally zero people escaped their childhood without scars which impact how we interact with our selves, other people and the world around us. Zero. Do not try to tell me you’re the one because I’d be happy to dig into it with you. It doesn’t have to be catastrophic to be impactful. In fact, most of the time, it’s the day to day way you adapted to your circumstances that leave lasting imprints.

Armed with our unique lens, we land in the middle of life. Often ill equipped to maneuver our way through relationships with ourselves or others, we may remain silent. We may not have been taught the tools to talk about how we feel, what we’re experiencing, what we desire. Those were certainly not part of the parent manual I received. What to Expect when you’re Expecting told me what would happen to my body, how large the baby was, basically how to keep them alive once they were born. I do not remember one word about developing emotional literacy or talking about hard things.

We all need practice

Lacking the tools, we don’t express our hearts, what we’re feeling, what is happening within us. And within our inner silence, we know there’s more. We can sense it, feel it, taste it. But it’s just outside our grasp. We may be afraid of what’s happening in that inner space and falsely believe no one would love us if they really knew. Knew the thoughts we had, or our true desires. We’d be too much, we wouldn’t be meeting their expectations, we’d disappoint them.

Maybe.

Step into your full self

But at the end of the day, I’m starting to believe it doesn’t matter. We must cultivate our own story, put words to our experiences, discover what lies within our silence and allow ourselves to be seen and heard. Without our cover story. Simply as we are. Because we’re allowed to act differently, think differently, express ourselves differently. And when we don’t? We may as well be Koa, trapped within herself, silent…not able to express that she’s afraid, scared, nervous, or whatever it is she might be feeling based on her life thus far.

We have a choice. To step out of our own silence and into the light where we let people see who we are. Unafraid. Heads held high. I see you and am with you my friend. Be brave.

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How are you getting what you need?

Quick. On one hand count how often you got together in April 2019 with 15 of your girlfriends at 9 a.m. on a Saturday morning to practice meditation and Koia? The answer? Zero. Perhaps even less than zero because you may very well have been asleep. In the era of shelter in place, my answer for April 2020 is 3 out of 3 thanks to my social and mileage-wise distanced friend Michelle. In what I’d describe divinely inspired, she created the Self-Love Project through her coaching company, My Village Well. Bringing together her village of women, which I’ve stumbled into, she hosts workshops throughout the year.

Creating Connection

Addressing our shelter in place requirement thanks to COVID, she created the project to provide space for women to feel and simply be for an hour. In the midst of all the noise which we’re faced with surrounding the pandemic, taking time to breathe feels precious and soul nurturing. Today, her guest speaker Nicole led the group through a short, mindful, Koia practice, which basically involves movement, dance and connection to your body. We danced to the Rolling Stones singing You Can’t Always Get What You Want, after which she encouraged us to journal following the prompt…I might not be getting what I want, but where am I getting what I need? As she spoke the words, I had an aha moment.

Letting go of scarcity

Throughout April, I’ve been focusing on the Wholehearted Living Guidepost of ‘letting go of scarcity and fear of the dark’. If you think God doesn’t have a sense of humor, think again, because having pre-chosen that, not knowing we’d be sheltering in place seems serendipitous. Focus on letting go when it feels as though we’re gazing into the eye of scarcity every single moment.

So, I pondered where the aha was taking me, and thought about the abundance rising out of COVID. I rarely know what I want, it’s my internal struggle. An Enneagram 9, I avoid disrupting the peace and as a result have been known to go along to get along. And I’ve made it my mission to push myself into defining what I want, what I need. It’s not easy. Although I’m working at home through shelter in place, I also have an abundance of time to breathe and ponder what I want and need. I have plenty, not lack.

It appears that what I need is time. Space. A slower pace. I’ve found myself releasing the internal drive (I may be an Enneagram 9, but my 1 wing is strong) to be in motion. The 1 that often overshadows my easygoing 9 self and tells her to get out of the chair and DO. What I need is connection at a heart level, which Michelle’s Self Love Project Saturdays provide.

What do you need?

My question for you is the same, if you aren’t getting what you want, where are you getting what you need? Take 15 minutes out of your day and spend 5 dancing to the song that allows you to shake it out and then another 10 minutes journalling your thoughts about the question. What you find may surprise you. Because when we’re paying attention, we can see abundance and there is joy in the midst of whatever this is we’ve experiencing. We simply need to slow down and see it. Be brave my friends, I’m on the journey with you.

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Looking for stillness within scarcity

Rarely do we see scarcity on the wide scale basis we are today. Beyond day to day niceties, eating out, shopping in a physical store, getting my nails done (that struggle is real), the sense of ‘lack’ is a shared reality.

We lack human interaction, spending time with friends or family, we lack connection…shared experiences. We lack physical touch from another human person. Social distancing put an end, at least for the moment, to human to human life. For our own, and others, safety, we stay at home. I live alone at the moment and other than talking to people at the grocery store or drive through at Starbucks from six feet away, I have no in person connection. But lack is not limited to me because I’m single. It’s pervasive. Across socio-economic boundaries, regions, personal circumstances. We’re spending abundant amounts of time alone, or with one or two other people.

Scarcity becoming stillness

When I was 35, I was newly divorced and living in a new city – alone. My children were with their father and I unexpectedly found myself grappling with an empty house. I can recall being profoundly miserable. Lonely. Sad. Unable to sit in that house alone and simply be. I created background noise 100% of the time. The television became my roommate. I didn’t know what to do with myself, how to be with myself. The lack I felt was guttural. Deep waves of melancholy would wash over me on any given day. Scarcity in terms of connection was palpable.

35 was a long time ago. I’ve lived half that much life since then and look back on the time as transformative. Because within the lack, within that space of darkness, I instead found stillness. I was forced to get to know myself. To become comfortable with me and learn more about my own thoughts and desires. It wasn’t the path I dreamed of as a little girl, but it was the path I was on. And I survived. I found different ways to have connection, mainly within the stillness of my mind. It was a time of discovery. Of letting go of what was and deciding who I wanted to be. Somewhere in the middle of the alone time, I got comfortable with me. With being alone and making friends with myself.

It’s something I’ve done cyclically since that time. Peeling off outer layers to see what’s underneath. What I wanted to shed, and what I wanted to explore.

Stillness leads to transformation

Periods of stillness provide space for transformation. I’m writing this on Easter and my mind goes to Jesus, in the tomb, and His transformation. The love and hope He promised to the world.  Our stillness can be our time of transformation. It’s our choice. Isolation doesn’t have to be lonely. While we lack connection with others, we can find inner clarity and connection. Use this time to examine our hearts and explore what brings us joy, what we’re grateful for, where we have love and hope. Those elements that cannot be taken from us. We can look within ourselves and ask if there’s an area that feels like a splinter. Festering, needing to be removed, leaving us relieved that it’s gone. Maybe you need to consider what you thought was essential but that you are finding stillness without and see the joy in that new space opened inside you.

Yes, we’re experiencing scarcity, but that mere fact can bring us joy and gratitude because we have room to breathe. Slowly, intentionally. Time to ponder, to consider, to dream. We’ve slowed down, not by choice, but here we are. What we choose to do with the abundance of time, yes, abundance, not lack, is personal. But it’s a choice we’re all making. Make a brave one. I’m on the journey with you.