Tag: women’s coaching

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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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Using creativity for self-compassion

When I committed to spend this month focusing on self-compassion, I may have bitten off more than I anticipated. The flip side to self-compassion is letting go of perfectionism and it’s possible that’s posing the larger challenge. Possible? More like, probable. I listened to a Tim Ferris interview with Brené Brown on his podcast this morning and perfectionism was, not surprisingly, one of their topics. One comment has left me thinking.

How do you let go of perfectionism and not become complacent?

You’ll have to listen to the podcast to hear their answer, which was honestly a non-answer. More so it was consideration, the lens that you’re gazing through. Looking at how we talk to ourselves about our behavior and activities in different situations. Focusing on being kind and curious instead of critical. It’s not saying, “I’m only doing a mediocre job in life but I’m not going to do anything differently.” That’s complacency.

Perfectionism is armor, it gets in the way of being wholehearted. I talked about it in last week’s blog. It’s less about doing well than avoiding blame and shame. Self-compassion is the antidote.

Ok, so conceptually, I can make the leap. But I have a confession, I’ve been focusing on this for more than a month. More like a couple years. The deep dive this month is with the laser focus of a little kid with a microscope pointed at a bug, but I’ve been noticing. Noticing the pattern of my self-talk. My internal narrative. Once riddled with “you’re an idiot,” shame when I made a mistake, calling myself “clumsy,” or “stupid,” it’s mellowed a bit.

Sheer determination is one reason for it, but I’ve also practiced. Crazy as it might sound, one of the ways I practiced was by taking up watercolor painting. I’ve mastered being inspired by something on Pinterest and then trying to freehand paint it myself. Around the same time I started dabbling with painting, my mom took a watercolor class, learning higher levels of technique. I have zero interest in that.

Here’s why. For one, I am not, nor do I intend to become, a professional painter. I have people in my extended family who are and admire their work. My painting is a creative outlet and allows me to make my own greeting cards. Secondly, a component of watercolor that I enjoy is not knowing how it’s going to turn out. Sure, you know what you’ve painted, but you don’t have the full picture of what it will look like until the paint dries. Painting has forced me to stay in a space of creativity and curiosity. I know and accept it’s not a space where precision is my goal.

Simply speaking kindly to yourself, letting go of the internal narrative of “not good enough” or “you did a crappy job on that,” is a step in the direction of self-compassion. The way I look at it, self-compassion takes an ABUNDANT amount of practice. I mean, a LOT. Taking up a hobby you know you’re ok at but not a master, and being OK with that, it’s practice. Staying in the space of “huh, that’s a bummer,” when you drop a glass tile from your bathroom remodel instead of beating yourself up about it, that’ self-compassion. (Incident purely fabricated…ok…not really, I dropped the tile…still finding glass chards in the garage this morning)

In and of itself, self-compassion isn’t perfection. It’s the opposite. So, the fact that we must practice it, that we don’t always do it well, that part of the deal. But we need to let go of perfection give ourselves a break. Usually we’re the toughest on ourselves, but at the end of the day, that’s a choice. As we continue working on shifting our midlife journey, we can choose otherwise… let’s choose self-compassion.

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How to listen when intuition nudges

I can be a little over the top when it comes to cleaning. Last week was no exception. Staring mindlessly at the carpet, vacuuming, and I notice the filter looks gunky when I emptied it. EW! Easy remedy, I’ll rinse it off in my tub. I take the first step with the filter in hand, and next thing I know, my forehead is hitting the door, breaking my fall. As I lay there, dazed, my immediate attention went to my recently operated on foot. Miraculously, as the ground quickly approached, I managed to instinctively protect it. Small miracles. But my head…I paid for that for a couple days with a headache, and a clean vacuum filter.

You’d think I’d be treading lightly after that, and I thought I was. Sunday night, I was doing at home physical therapy. Using an exercise band around my foot, flexing against it. La-de-da, two, three, four, SNAP! Band off my foot and before I even knew it, smacked it in the face. What lesson was I missing that twice I’d narrowly escaped death?? (ok, maybe not death, but come ON!)

A few days later, facilitating a class at work, resting my leg on a chair while folks got organized for an activity. I go to take a step forward. Yep, say it with me. My toe caught on the chair and down I went, face first, knee then foot, stretching it farther than I had since surgery. I jumped up, shaking it off like a soldier but inside feeling rattled for hours. Again, what the heck??

Life gives us lessons

Isn’t that the way life goes sometimes? In my case, I was earnestly trying to be ultra-careful and baby my foot while it recovered. Yet my stumbles were not little. I was reminded of something my great grandmother used to say. I was fortunate to have her until my late teens and she’d visit a couple times a year. She was well known for remarking, “If you don’t listen, you’re going to have to feel.” Reminiscent of the times she grew up in. The last week had given me my fair share of “feel.”

But what was the “listening” I was missing?

Setting aside my week of painful reminders that I’m still in recovery and need to slow down, what do we do when those repeated nudges keep coming up in our lives? Think about it, you’re in a season of asking God, the Divine, what exactly the discontent that rumbles around in you means. You’ve put it out there, asking for guidance. Maybe you find an interesting opportunity reading a magazine you’ve never picked up before. Or you meet someone who happens to be going down the same path you want to walk. You have lunch with a friend you haven’t seen in ages, and the conversation opens new doors.

Why listen to our nudges?

What do we do with those nudges? All too often, we give a cursory, “oh, that’s interesting,” and mosey on with our life. Um, hello God, the Divine, why aren’t you giving me the down low on what to do? Chances are, it already happened, but you were too busy and missed the sign.

So now you get to feel. Growing discontent. Stress. Your body telling you to wake up and pay attention. Ok, fine. I’m sitting down. Done feeling.

Every single one of us can choose to listen. Open up to the nudges we’re looking for coming from the most unexpected places. We have a choice. When a thought pops into your head and you think, “I’m not smart enough to have dreamed that up,” yeah, that’s a nudge. Trust it. The Divine ‘speaks’ to you in unconventional ways, so long as you’re paying attention. Your authentic self knows the way, because that wisdom, the nudges, they’ve been inside you percolating for years. Trust you. It’s our journey, friends, and I’m on it with you. Be brave.

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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.

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Owning YOUR Story

Owning your storyEvery 4 ½ minutes, a baby is born with a birth defect in the United States. That’s nearly 120,000 babies born with birth defects each year. In my estimation, the prevalence of birth defects in the late 1960’s when I was born was perhaps more, because maternal care was not as sophisticated as today. Though I don’t have the stats on it, the advancement of medical care through the years has also likely resulted in a decrease in the long-term effects of some birth defects.

When I was born, the doctors knew I had a birth defect in my foot that would likely result in amputation. Too much blood in my foot, that’s how I always described it. By the time I was 4 ½ I was in the hospital undergoing the predicted amputation. After 3 months at Shriner in San Francisco, I returned home to Yosemite to adjust and carry on with the business of being a little girl.

Around the time I was 8, my folks divorced and I moved with my mother a few hours away to start the 3rd grade. We moved a year later and life at home was somewhat chaotic the next six years. In high school, I returned to Yosemite to live with my Dad until college.

Purposefully I tell that portion of my story at a high level. The early years, the time I was in the hospital was extremely impactful, it created my lifelong love of medicine and the comfort I experience when I visit the doctor, have medical procedures, spend time in the hospital. I look back on that time with warm fuzzies.

What I’ve noticed about the middle part is that I have little to say about it and at the same time, volumes. But telling your story to another person is an act of vulnerability. It’s opening up, exposing yourself. Your version might be whimsical, magical, mundane, average, or it might be raw.

Here’s the thing, your story is no one else’s. But what happens sometimes is that people will layer their own judgement, or experience over yours and try to mirror back what they presume you must have felt, when in fact, it’s not accurate.

And when you’re first exploring your feelings around childhood or significant life events, you might listen. You could be tempted to add a layer of experience that wasn’t there. “It must have been so hard for you. You must have missed… You must have felt…” If you’re sharing your story, in that raw space of vulnerability, still figuring it out, you might question your recollection.

I could easily look back on being in the hospital and think about the lack, my parents weren’t there the majority of the time. There was no Ronald McDonald house, it was the norm for parents to visit only on the weekend. But that would overshadow the overwhelmingly positive impact that experience had on my life. My messy middle? I could call that the crazy, and there may be days where I do. But I’ve gone back and explored my feelings about that time, and still, I would describe it as generally fine.

Your story is yours alone. Other people’s insertions, interpretations, the overwhelming inclination of some people to analyze your “family of origin,” has its place. But it’s a small space. Continuing to rehash over and over? Exhausting. I’ve learned that when you’re first exploring your story you might be like a sponge and listen to what others insert. But as you rumble with your story, you will determine what it truly is for you. Other’s opinions can fall by the wayside, they can, frankly, back off.

Brené Brown writes that owning your story is the bravest thing you’ll ever do. I wholeheartedly agree. Whatever it is for you, let it be your own. No one can take that away from you. You are brave, strong and worthy of your own experience. Be authentically you. I’m on the journey with you.

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Being present with today

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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How to say Yes to the right things

Can't do it allCalifornia recently emerged from a drought that lasted 376 weeks. From December 2011 to March 2017, the state endured one of the most intense droughts in California history. The cause was attributed to a ridge of high pressure in the Pacific Ocean, named the “Ridiculously Resilient Ridge” which often barred winter storms from reaching the state. Researchers can see evidence of past droughts by analyzing tree rings, smaller during periods of drought.

For those of you living in the state, you will recall the winter storm blasts beginning in 2017. Snow for days. The cumulative effect resulted in the state being declared drought free by mid-March 2019. I live not far from Truckee, California – near Lake Tahoe – and the stories of the snow piling up around the town were intense. There was literally nowhere to put the snow it fell in such abundant quantities.

At the same time the California drought was in a period of recovery, my creative life was in a season of drought. The internal stirring to create was strong, but nothing was happening. Creativity for me is more than creative arts, yes, it’s that, painting, writing, but it’s also putting together groups, pouring into others. That area? Nothing, nada. And I felt it rolling around inside me in the form of frustration. I kept dreaming and the “I want to,” phrase was one I told myself frequently as I worked through ideas, but they never came to fruition.

Until they did.

Within the last month, it’s as though the floodgates have opened. The drought ended, and rain began pouring from the sky. When that happens after a period of environmental drought? There’s a risk of a flash flood. The ground can only absorb the moisture so fast and the additional water must go somewhere, anywhere.

What was one, two opportunities became five and six and as I reflected on the abundance, on how I would juggle, a mixture of excitement and overwhelmed was cooking inside me. Overwhelmed won, for a moment.

But I realized that I had a choice. I could do anything I wanted, but I couldn’t do it all. Tough to come to grips with for someone who prides herself just that. Who doesn’t want to let anyone down by saying no. At this phase in life though, wisdom prevailed. We might think we have to do it all, but we don’t. What we need to do is realize where our strengths and talents lie and lean in. The other stuff, the stuff that’s fun and we have interest in?  That’s all well and good, but if it spreads us too thin, if it pulls away from our area of strength, should we pursue it? For me, the answer was no.

Because, although the period of drought is fresh in my mind, thinking that there will never be other opportunities like this is a scarcity mindset. There will be more. For any of us, if we choose an abundance mindset, there will be more. When we have the abundance mindset, it’s easier to stay within our boundaries. Saying yes to the right things and being comfortable saying no to the not quite right things.

What are you saying yes to right now that you should be saying no? The choice is yours but if you’re saying a soft yes, a wavering yes, an “I guess so,” yes…the answer is probably no. You can say no. There will be more. And when you can say a strong yes? You’ll know it’s right and as you lean in to your areas of strength, you’ll find abundance will continue to flow into all the right places in your life.

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Create your own adventure

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

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

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

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

Except this time, I caught them.

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

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

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

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

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