A Mother's Day

Nobody tells you how hard it is going to be. That a mother’s day requires everything you have to give, and a lot of what you don’t. That the needs of others can drown out your own, and that in watching out for your children, you can easily lose sight of yourself

Don’t do that.

One of the most important gifts we can give to our children, no matter what stage in life, is a mom who loves and cares for herself. A tall order no matter how you cut it. At the beginning, learning to care for ourselves feels like a radical act, kind of like staging our own revolution. But no meaningful change throughout history has happened without a lot of rabble-rousers tiring of the status quo. To change the course of our own histories is no different. We have to become rebels for our own cause, knowing that it will ruffle a lot of feathers, including our own. Meeting our own needs often collides with those of others, and it is uncomfortable for everyone as we begin to care for ourselves in new ways.

Sometimes all we can eke out is a dropper full of self-care. Ten quiet minutes alone, a walk around the block, a hot shower, or heating up leftovers, again. Managing a whole pitcher of care can be hard to come by, but to live with our glass half full means refilling it whenever and however we can. Being able to step back and catch our breath will mean that someone else will have to step up. Let them.

Self-care means discovering what we need in order to show up for what life requires. It is about equipping ourselves well so that we are well equipped for the life we have, including loving and caring for our children.

It’s not about being self-centered.

It’s about living from a centered self.

The Garage Day 2

When it comes to cleaning, clearing, and organizing a garage, like many things in life, it’s different strokes for different folks. I’m a tosser, he’s a saver, and with those two facts in play, as you can imagine, this project could stir up a little emotional stuff for the two of us. However, if we’ve learned anything in our 25 years together, it is that while we couldn’t be much more different, our commitment to one another is the same. So this morning, before setting one foot in the garage, we sat down with our coffee, and along with my sister and her husband who are here to help, had a conversation about what we wanted to be true at the end of this daunting project. Yes, by the end of the week we want to have made major progress. Yes, by the end of the week we want to have hauled away as many truck loads as possible. Yes, by the end of the week we want to have created a much more organized and clean space in which to start using the garage for the purpose it was originally built. And, yes, and most importantly, by the end of the week the four of us want to have all laughed together, had fun together, and be even more grateful for one another.

When it comes to cleaning, clearing, and organizing a garage, like many things in life, the project isn’t the real project. What matters in the end is how we conducted ourselves in the midst of the project. What matters in the end is how we related to one another in the midst of the project. What matters in the end is whether or not we are better people, both individually and collectively, because of the project. That can only happen when we realize that the project isn’t the real project. It is just a vehicle to become even more of the authentic and wholehearted people we are called to be.

Stay tuned.

Family

Sometimes there’s just nothing like family.

I’m spending a few days with one of our daughters and her family. Which turned out to mean that I have the chance to play with the grandboys, fold laundry, drink coffee, talk about life, and get ready for a birthday party on Saturday, complete with a homemade smash cake for the one year old to, well, smash his face into. Earlier this week, my brother drove a couple of hours to spend the day with us up at our cabin. Which turned out to mean that we had the chance to sit on the porch, drink coffee, talk about life, and of the cross country trip he and his wife will be making next month for their move into their new home. Which turned out to mean that we had the chance to talk about how sweet it is that they are moving closer to their son and his wife, and the bitterness of that sweet in moving away from lifelong friends and family. He had a little surgery yesterday to clean up a knee, and while his knee did fine, his heart acted up a bit and he had to stay overnight in the hospital. Which turned out to mean his son decided to change his travel plans at the last minute and fly into town for a couple of days. Which turned out to mean that my wonderful nephew showed up at my daughter’s house this afternoon. Which turned out to mean that over dinner those two cousins had the chance to reminisce about the weekly dinners they used to have together when they were both single and living in the same city. She would plan the menu, he’d show up with the groceries, and she would cook. Which turned out to mean that they learned their way around the kitchen together. Which turned out to mean that tonight, while she and her husband put little boys to bed, he  cleaned up the kitchen before heading out. Which turned out to mean that at the end of the day, sometimes there’s just nothing like family.

A Collective Prayer

The unexamined life is not worth living.

Socrates

Yesterday in church during a time when anyone in the congregation can share a prayer of concern or gratitude, I found my hand going up in the air almost without my consent. I hadn’t planned on sharing anything, but it seemed that something wanted to be shared and I was the one to share it. Taking the microphone that was passed down the pew to me, here was what wanted to be shared...

If our daughters were here today they would tell you that I was (still am) fond of saying that we all have our “stuff” (only I usually use a better and more descriptive word when not in church). It’s the stuff that we need to work out, usually with the help of a therapist, so that we can become our most authentic, healed, and wholehearted selves. When we don’t take our stuff on, we take it out on other people. The wounds and hurts that go untended go on to wound and hurt other people. Especially those we care the most about.

May we all have the courage to do our work.

There was a collective resonance in the sanctuary, the nodding of heads, and quiet murmurs of acknowledgement and understanding. I seem to be thinking, talking, and writing about this a lot right now, and if you are tired of reading about it here, I understand, but somehow it feels that if we don’t get this right, we don’t get anything right. Inner work is hard and uncomfortable. It requires courage and vulnerability. But it is the only way to an authentic, healed, and wholehearted life, which is why we arrived on the planet in the first place.

May we all have the courage to do our work.

Amen.

Speak Up

The power of our voice is immense. With it we come out of closets or lock ourselves in someone else’s skin, take leaps of faith or cling to the guardrail, tie a knot in the end of our rope or dig our pits a little deeper, ask for a well deserved raise or settle for what we are offered, create a loving relationship or stay in toxic ones, accuse the rapist in spite of our fear or suffer in shame because of it, ask for help or flounder and fall, ask for forgiveness or defend our transgressions. Our voice resonates through every thought, word, choice and action. And since actions speak louder than words, sometimes we speak the loudest without uttering a word. Rosa Parks didn’t stand up and give a speech. She sat down and changed the world. [ 1 ]

Several years ago during a certification process that would enable me and the others in our cohort to facilitate a high level leadership program for a global organization, we each had the opportunity to lead the rest of the group through a short portion of the material. At the end of each of our times in the front of the room, the rest of us offered feedback to help strengthen our delivery. That was the first time I officially remember hearing the impact that “upspeak”, a rising tone at the end of a sentence, can have on the delivery of a message.

One of our cohort, a whip-smart, thoughtful, and articulate woman delivered her material with confidence, connection, clarity, and, a healthy smattering of upspeak, undermining the strength of her message, and causing me to question the competence that I knew her to have. Along with the many things she had done well, I carefully offered my perspective on her use of uptalk, and as I remember it, it was news to her. She didn’t even hear herself doing it.

Upspeak is a common occurrence, having almost become a culturally accepted norm, and I hear it everywhere. It doesn’t just drive me nuts, it makes me sad. It turns any sentence into a question, softens a message whether it needs softening or not, comes across as an appeal for reassurance, and undermines whatever strengths are being called upon to speak up.

But here’s the thing.

Our voice is the instrument with which we communicate who we are to the world, and for many of us, it has taken us far too long to discover it, much less learn how to unapologetically use it. The world needs our voice now more than ever, and we each need to do the hard work of figuring out who we are, what we stand for, and then with heads held high, to speak up.

[ 1 ] Molly Davis - BLUSH: Women & Wine

Let's Do It

Last evening I met with a fellow coach for a glass of wine. We don’t know one another well, and while she is at the beginning of her coaching work and I am further down the trail, we share a commitment to helping and supporting others find their way forward. Wanting to know more about my experience, she asked me to describe the work I love to do. Here’s what I told her…

I love to help others step more fully into their own lives and find their way to a life that is authentic, wholehearted, and utilizes their gifts and strengths in service to others. Whether working with a coaching client, leading a retreat, or speaking to an audience, I share some form of the same message—we are all called to help, heal, and love the world that is within our reach in ways that are uniquely ours. Whether that is as a dog trainer, artist, school custodian, greeter at Costco, football coach, volunteer firefighter, campground host, restaurant manager, pastor, yoga teacher, musician, stay-at-home parent, gas station attendant, retiree, logger, brain surgeon, production line worker, or politician, when we truly connect who we meant to be at our core with how we live out in the world, we touch the world in ways that no one else can.

Her question gets to the heart of the matter. What is the work you love to do? Even if you aren’t currently doing it, or maybe never have, what is the contribution you want to make while still on the planet?

If you don’t do it, it won’t get done.

If I don’t do it, it won’t get done.

If we don’t do it, it won’t get done.

Let’s do it!

The Story vs The Real Scoop

A couple of days ago my husband Tom and I sat down with our calendars to make sure we were on the same page, knew who was doing what when, and make any needed adjustments. Noticing that he was going to be gone for a couple of days, I made a request. Rather than leaving late in the morning as he was planning to do, would be willing to leave several hours earlier, giving me a little more of some much needed time to myself. Could that work for him?

In the past I’ve not always asked in what you might call a gracious manner, which as you might suspect, made him feel a little less than welcome in his own home. Thankfully, I’m finally learning to make my requests in a more loving and respectful way. After thinking about it, he said that he could, and in fact, doing so would give him time to make a much needed run to the dump with the garbage and recycling. It sounded to me like we were on the same page, and that we had a plan that met both of our needs. I walked away from our calendaring session feeling great about our interchange, and looking forward to a couple of days with the house to myself. As much as I love the people I love, including Tom, when I don’t have time away from them, including Tom, I’m not much good to anyone, including Tom, or myself for that matter. As far as I was concerned, things were, as they say, all good.

Until this morning when it was time for him to leave town.

Coming back from a morning walk with Gracie-the-chocolate-labradoodle, already feeling my inner space opening up, Tom was just finishing loading the back of the red pickup with the recycling, and he didn’t appear to be the happiest of campers. Checking in with him, he wasn’t. He didn’t like the feeling of being asked to leave as soon as possible. That was news to me. The story as I saw it, was that we were both good with our plan, but now that we were in the midst of it, the real scoop was that he wasn’t good with it.

At that point things could have gone from bad to worse, but rather than get defensive, my usual go-to-strategy, I worked to listen without judgement and let him say more. We both stayed in the conversation, and by the time he drove out of the driveway we both felt heard. Because we both felt heard, we also felt connected. Because we felt connected, we now have good fodder for further conversation and better communication going forward.

The moral of the story?

The story isn’t always the real scoop.

Bearing Witness

“the ultimate touchstone is witness, the privilege of having been seen by someone and the equal privilege of being granted the sight of the essence of another…”

David Whyte - Consolations: The Solace, Nourishment and the Underlying Meaning of Everyday Words

Once a month I have the privilege of sharing time with two dear friends. We live in different cities and so use a video conferencing platform, which is usually as close as we can come to sitting on a porch somewhere together. We began as colleagues, ended up as friends, and the only real agenda of our monthly shared space is to show up together in whatever state we find ourselves. Today, as I shared some of my story as it looks right now, they listened deeply as they always do, and when I was done speaking, there was a lingering shared silence that communicated more than words could ever say. More words weren’t needed.

In bearing witness they had provided what mattered most.

To be seen.

Take It To The Bank

In an interest bearing account, interest is accrued over time. The sooner one begins putting money in, the more they put in, and the longer they leave it there, the more interest will accumulate, thus increasing the value of that account.

It isn’t a stretch to say that the same is true when it comes to investing in our own emotional health and wellbeing. The sooner we get to it, the more we put into it, and the longer we keep at it, the more we stand to gain, and we aren’t the only ones who will benefit from our efforts. All those with whom we are in relationship stand to reap the rewards as well. The sooner we get started, the less others will have to pay for our mistakes. The sooner we take ourselves on, the less likely we are to take our stuff out on others. Especially on those who matter the most.

Just as there are a variety of financial investment tools and strategies from which to choose, there are different options and strategies available to help us grow and thrive emotionally. It all starts with a commitment to do the work. To invest. To fund. To understand. To keep at it. To educate ourselves. To seek professional help. To sacrifice now for long term gain.

It all boils down to this…

When it comes to financial health, either we choose to invest or not.

When it comes to emotional health, either we choose to invest or not.

When we do, it’s always pays off.

You can take that to the bank.

Spoiler Alert

In the age of fake news, it is essential that we are diligent to discern fact from fiction, and information from opinion. It is incumbent upon each of us to search for journalists who fiercely ferret out the truth, and tease the facts out of the rat’s nest of fabrication. When it comes to the news and our ability to make informed decisions, the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth matters. Good journalism is the art of reporting the story in such a way that it shines a light on the truth.

In our personal lives, when it comes to telling a good story, there’s an art to that too. We are story tellers at heart, and we see ourselves in one another’s stories. A story is our own account of events and experiences, not someone else’s recollection. We tell our stories to entertain and inspire, connect and reveal, and a story that isn’t absolutely accurate can still be absolutely true. But have you ever been in the midst of telling a story, and suddenly someone feels the need to correct your telling of it? Nothing kills a good story like a self-appointed fact checker.

I’ll take an authentic story over an accurate one any day, and the next time someone steps in to correct my story, I’m going to try and respond the same way a good friend of mine does.

Now don’t go spoiling a good story with the truth.