About unexpected change and then some

I didn’t expect to move from Washington to North Carolina 2 months ago. The prospect didn’t even enter my conscious consideration until early December, when I flew to my sister’s as birthday present to myself. Yes, months earlier she’d mentioned that I should inhabit her 3rd floor, but I didn’t take her seriously. Who means that? Who offers that? Who really wants someone else living in their home? But once I got there, sitting in her living room, drinking coffee, and actually entertaining the possibility, it became shockingly clear to me that she wanted this. I could actually choose to say “yes” to a change that was bursting into my life — unexpected, surprising, shocking even.

How often we do we miss opportunity for change and transition? We either a) assume it’s not really ours to pursue or embrace; not really available; or b) immediately disregard it, given what it would require, cost (on multiple levels), and ultimately mean.

Though I have made this leap, believe me, there have been plenty of times in which I’ve not. Options were presented to me, but I disregarded them. I dreamed of something I really wanted, but didn’t believe it could actually happen. I knew that I could make a bold choice, but it felt too hard, too “out there,” too disruptive.

In denying myself the possibility inherent in change, I wonder: What did I miss out on because it felt like too much to accept, to walk toward / through, to be too good to be true?

Even more importantly: What change might yet be on the horizon were I to open myself to change, look for it, even assume that it’s right around the corner?

For me, at least this time, to not accept what’s been so graciously offered, feels like turning my back on something mysterious, even miraculous, that is clearly functioning on my behalf. I don’t want to ignore what doesn’t make senseNot anymore. I’ve done plenty of that over 5+ decades of my life. Instead, I’m leaping into the unknown with Change and Transition in the front seat and me along for the ride . . .

So, at least a cursory exploration of unexpected changeNow, what does it mean to intentionally choose such?

When my sister made her generous and heartfelt offer to move into her home and incorporate myself into her family, I had a decision to make. Well, lots of them, actually.

  • I had to intentionally choose to give up my independence, “solo” living, and autonomous lifestyle.
  • I had to intentionally choose to accept others’ care, connection, and love.
  • I had to intentionally choose to let go of “home” as I’ve created it for myself and instead, let that idea be more loose and fluid.
  • I had to intentionally choose to leave behind a city I’ve lived in for 30 years, in which I’ve raised both my daughters, that is still their home — even if not in chosen location.
  • I had to intentionally choose to say (incredibly hard) goodbyes to friends and family with whom I’ve been proximity-connected for most of my life.
  • I had to intentionally choose to trust that even if this doesn’t work out, that there is something yet ahead that I can and will step into and embrace.
  • And not insignificant, I had to intentionally choose to live without a kitchen of my own and a bathroom on the 2nd floor. 🙂

Some of these, admittedly, are small and inconsequential; others are huge and still in-the-works in my own mind and heart. Still, to spend the past few weeks sitting with the option and availability of choice — and then making such — has been empowering and humbling.

Here’s what I’ve come to: We almost always have choice; it’s the making and taking of such that trips us up. Whether it’s the unknowns or the tradeoffs or the sacrifices or even the benefits, we are far more comfortable with the status quo (even while we complain about it).

I say none of this to somehow affirm my own maturity or wisdom. Just the opposite! I have shunned choices left and right over my lifetime. I’ve not seen myself (or others) as able to handle them. I’ve found them inconvenient and hard. I’ve chosen the devil I know for the one I don’t.

What I’m inviting (for me and you both) is the possibility of just the opposite — of opening ourselves to the ample invitation of change and then intentionally choosing it. In my experience, both right now and in my past, it’s then that grace rushes in.

Finally, how “accepted” disruption serves. This, of my three points today, is the one that’s been on my mind a lot the past few weeks. Not because my own life-circumstances (or personal versions of disruption); more because I can’t not see just how frantically our culture works (often successfully) to keep us from accepting and allowing the harder parts of life . . . to our detriment.

We cannot avoid disruption — despite our endless attempts to do so. “Highlights” of recent and unavoidable disruption include:

  • The 2016 election
  • The necessary and long-silenced truth brought to light in the Me Too and Black Lives Matter movements; the miles-and-miles-and-miles we have yet to go related to sexism, racism, ableism, ageism, and so much more
  • Global warming
  • An international pandemic
  • The drama of the 2020 election
  • New strains of the virus
  • The list goes on . . .

Then there are the more personal forms of disruption:

  • Job loss
  • Career changes
  • Financial strain
  • Relationship loss
  • Avoided conversations and the ramifications of such
  • Heartbreak
  • Death
  • Aging
  • Illness
  • Empty nests
  • Existential questions and crises

(Almost every one of these is on my personal list in the past few two years!)

In the midst of all these realities, we live in a world that demands we maintain a positive outlook, that we “choose happy.” And if that’s not possible, it seduces us to dissociate through consumerism — buying things, programs, and possibilities — that promise us relief from the pain of life.

It is pain that makes beauty evident and felt! It is disruption that invites an acceptance of our own complexity, and just how complicated and glorious our life truly is.

Anything less than this, from where I sit, is not only disingenuous, but tragic.

I want you to welcome the disruption, the pain, the crises, the ache. They are, after all, unavoidable; even more, they’re part-and-parcel with life, with your wild and precious lifeTo allow in what you attempt to resist, even embrace such, is the best option (if not the only one) that allows for a life that is full, rich, real, and true.

And at the end of all things, that is all I want for you, for me, for all of us: a life that is full, rich, real, and true — inclusive of welcomed change and transition, intentional choices, and accepted disruption. May it be so!

****

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5 Ways to Have the Life you Desire

Here’s the quick version of this post:

  1. Hold fast to what you most desire.

And here’s the longer one:

1. Hold fast to what you most desire.

Without a clear sense of your truest, deepest desires you feel uncertain, unclear, and often unmotivated to plant a stake in the ground — fearful that you won’t get what you want anyway, even if you know what that is.

Desire is not about its fulfillment. At least not completely. It is about risk and faith and trust and belief. And without these? Well, you wander, or worse, you feel like your feet — and life — are encased in cement. But when you DO know what you desire, everything is possible! Desire is what creates and enables possibility in and of itself. (And it is the stuff of the very best stories ever!)

A Practical To-Do: Let yourself dream! What do you most want? What would you envision for yourself if you could? No editing. No censoring. No doubts. No fears. Everything and anything allowed. Do NOT get waylaid by the endlessly long list of reasons why you can’t have any of this. Let yourself be hungry for all of it. Let yourself want! Desire. Desire. Desire!

2. Name what you want.

There is no end to the thoughts and emotions that swirl within me. But unchecked, unarticulated, and unnamed they can, at times, become so overwhelming that I can’t see my way through to anything practical, to next steps, to any form of clarity. I feel overwhelmed and stuck.

Thankfully, these moments, even seasons, are increasingly rare. I have learned to move the words out of me. I intentionally make them tangible, seen, and heard. I write everything down and read it back to myself. I talk to others (in discerning, appropriate, and safe contexts). I literally see and hear my desire, my longed-for story, instead of *just* being aware of it within. And it’s the same that I’m encouraging for you.

Choose to let your words, thoughts, and emotions be named, heard, and seen by both self and others.

A Practical To-Do: Using #1, above, as prompt, ask yourself: what do I really-and-truly desire? Then close your eyes (yes, really) and type. No spellcheck. No worries. Just go! Some aspect of the inner critic gets silenced; when you open your eyes back up and read what you’ve written, you will see and hear with more acuity than before. Truth is spoken. Themes are revealed. And clarity emerges. Not all at once. Not forever and ever, amen. But in ways that are new, revelatory, and important. You’ll discover insights that can’t help but compel your needed next steps and the story you long to live!

Another Practical To-Do: Talk! To a therapist, coach, spiritual director, and/or trusted friend. It’s invaluable to hear yourself out loud. (An interim option is to record yourself on a voice memo. I’ve done this many times over the years and am always astounded by the words and unnamed truths I hear myself speak.)

3. Acknowledge what’s bound to get in the way.

When I start thinking about what I desire, I VERY quickly move to inventorying all the reasons why this isn’t going to work, why it’s going to be too hard, how I’m going to hurt others, how I’ll be misunderstood, and/or all the tension I’ll create . . . It is ONLY when I take the time and effort to articulate and name (yes, again) every bit of this that I can ever hope to move forward.

The story and life you desire and deserve automatically comes with risks, costs, and consequences. That’s the evidence that it’s real, that it’s powerful, that it’s worth pursuing!

A Practical To-Do: List out all the risks, costs, and consequences of your hoped-for future. What are you most afraid will happen? If those things do take place, then what might happen? And what are the risks, costs, and consequences if you DON’T pursue what matters most to you? This is not about doom and gloom; it is an honest acknowledgement of just how hard it is to move forward, how exhausting it is to lean into the wind, how challenging (and critical) it is to live what you desire and deserve. Now, of what you’ve named, what are you fully capable of handling when you already know it’s coming? What difference does it make when you’re not surprised by others’ reactions? How might paying even more attention to the costs of not living into what you most want, be the motivation you need to rise up and persevere?

4. Take actual steps over and through the obstacles.

I went through a long season in which there was a HUGE gap between what I felt on the inside and expressed on the outside. I made a deal with myself: “Just once today, you must tell the truth.” Sometimes, shockingly, nothing I’d feared actually happened. Other times I could see the hairline cracks extend under the facade I’d painstakingly sustained. Over time I got stronger, bolder, clearer. And eventually, bit by bit, the gap closed. I then made new decisions, took more steps, and watched myself begin to live in ways that felt aligned and sovereign. It was hardly dramatic and at times, almost imperceptible. But it was no less real.

Too much of the time we look at the chasm between where we are and where we want to be, then instantly feel certain that we do not have the capacity to make those kinds of leaps and dramatic changes. Understandably! Which is why you’re far better served by making tiny changes, experimenting, slightly tweaking your way of handling particular situations. That’s enough. It’s significant! And over time, those single, simple, small steps WILL add up to forward movement and even more momentum. I promise!

A Practical To-Do: Determine the very smallest step you could possibly take and take it! A “no” instead of a resentful “yes.” A beginning boundary enforced. Speaking (just once/day) instead of staying silent. Then take the next step and the next one after that. You’ve totally got this! I can hardly wait to see where those one-foot-in-front-of-the-other actions carry you in the the year ahead!

5. Don’t do any of this alone.

These steps, this effort, this life’s work? It’s a lot.

Perhaps easier said than done, but my strongest encouragement (and hope) on your behalf is that you choose to NOT be alone in any of it! I know how hard it is to navigate day-in, day-out life, let alone your stories — past, present, and future — without the consistency, kindness, safety, and wisdom, and presence of another. You don’t have to do it alone. Truly.

When we are not separated from self or each other, when we gather, when we vulnerably-and-bravely tell our truths, when we demand-and-live the story we desire and deserve, the earth shifts on its axis and everything changes.

If I were to create yet another list of next steps, it would look like this:

  • Find, ask for, and accept the support you need.

There’s absolutely nothing I want more for you, for me, for all of us — together.

May it be so.

*****

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The Voices in Your Head

  • Someday my prince/ess will come: my life will be complete when I’m rescued, when I’m finally seen, when I’m removed from this impossible situation. And “magic” is definitely required to make anything happen — it’s not really up to me.
  • I will eventually awake from this sleep (less-than stellar relationship, unfulfilling job, etc.) to find all my dreams fulfilled: my reality is only temporary. If I just keep waiting (and sleeping), everything will work out as I hope. And yes, again, “magic” is required, or at least the perfect kiss, to finally live the life I long for.
  • It’s my own fault I’m living East of Eden: if only I hadn’t pursued my desire, trusted my own wisdom, listened to my intuition. I should have known better. I’ve no one to blame but myself for the hell I’m now in.

Given the power inherent in the way stories of women have been told FOR ILL (whether Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, Eve, or countless others), the opposite is just as true: stories of women, when reimagined, retold, and redeemed, have even more power FOR GOOD!

Wisdom from Dr. Sharon

I came across a Facebook post by Brene Brown a few weeks back. She was talking about her recent conversation with Sarah Niles who plays Dr. Sharon Fieldstone on Ted Lasso. (If you’re not a Ted Lasso devotee, I promise, all of this will still make sense.)

These were the words in the meme that accompanied the post:

All I try to do is just root my feet and feel like I have a right to be here. I deserve to be loved. I deserve to be seen. I am seen. I am loved. ~ Sarah Niles

Honestly. I could just stop here, yes?

And, I have more I want to say…

Root your feet and feel like you have a right to be here.
We live in a world that often (and still) tells us we do not have that right. The evidence is legion. Still, still, women are not allowed to make choices for themselves (in some states more than others). Still, still, our voices are not heard. Still, still, our compensation does not equal that of our male counterparts. Still, still, domestic violence persists — and sexual trafficking — and sexual violence. And what is the antidote to this? SO much, of course; but the MOST healing, MOST transformative, MOST world-changing thing possible is YOU believing that you have a right to be here. Right here. Right now. So, root your feet. Stand still. Stand tall. Stand firm. And stay.

You deserve to be loved. You deserve to be seen.
No kidding. Despite your own stories — a lifetime of them — in which you’ve not been loved as you deserved, not been seen, not been heard, not been honored, this wisdom calls you to a deeper truth; one that surpasses, overcomes, and heals the lies.

You are seen. You are loved.
The thing I love about these two statements is that they eliminate all argument, all self-doubt, all question marks, all ambivalence, all wondering. They just are. They are true. And when you believe them, really believe them, then you live in ways that reflect their truth. Do that, yes?

A few ways you might experiment in the days to come:

  • Every morning this week, open up a blank document on your computer or page in your journal and write these words across the top of the page: Because I have the right to be here, that means…
  • In every conversation or interaction or meeting this week, tuck an index card or sticky note into your pocket — even the palm of your hand — that says, I deserve to be loved. I deserve to be seen. Then pay attention to, even track, how that shifts the way in which you show up, how you speak out, what you say “no” to, where you say “yes,” even the tilt of your chin and the squaring of your shoulders.
  • Each night this week, just before you fall asleep, repeat these words: I am seen. I am loved. What dreams may come? What gratitude might pour forth? What reflection might you see in your minds eye of just how amazing and wise and deserving you truly are?
  • Oh, and listen to the podcast: Brene Brown’s conversation with Sarah Niles herself.
  • Finally, again and again and again — repeat these words to yourself (maybe even to those you love):

All I try to do is just root my feet and feel like I have a right to be here. I deserve to be loved. I deserve to be seen. I am seen. I am loved.

Vast thanks, Dr. Sharon.

3 Ways to be Determined & Wise

There’s an ancient, sacred story told of a woman who had the capacity to influence a man of power, who was adamant about her desires, who demanded the miraculous, and who, offers us a pretty amazing template for how to be determined, independent, and wise ourselves!

I love her story: her determination, her opinionated-ness, her unwillingness to accept “no” for an answer, her strength, her courage, her decisiveness, her agency…

And chances are high you’ve not heard of her. Or if you did, it was a LONG time ago and definitely without the 3 points I’m about to make!

She’s called the Shunammite. The prophet she interacts with is Elisha. And the miracle she demands is her son’s resurrection. Which she gets, by the way! (Though this may sound WAY outside the context of your own story, stay with me. I promise…it will connect and relate.)

She offers us three takeaways worth pondering, pursuing, and living:

 

1) This woman constructed her own rules related to wealth, roles, and voice.

She was not constrained by the common customs of the day (dependent, deferring, and silent). She was profoundly countercultural, made decisions completely independent of a man, and was intact — in and of herself — in every way.

Consider the predominant messages of our world today: the assumed standards of what is “appropriate” or “acceptable” behavior. What are the unspoken rules you know like the back of your hand? I get it: few of them are blatant; no declaration hangs on the wall. It’s highly possible that the only time you are actually aware of any “rules” at all is when you consider breaking one of them. And then? Well, resistance floods. The list of cons far outweighs the pros. You can already anticipate exactly what the fallout will be if you do/be/say ________.

The Shunammite offers you something far different. She says,“ Do just the opposite! Construct your own rules. No permission required!”

 

2) This woman did not place stock in religious authority or positions of power.

Instead, she relied on her own understanding, beliefs, and faith. She ostensibly said, “I will choose my own response to this circumstance. I will not be silenced into submission. I will determine where I place my hope and in whom.”

Think about your own story with religion — whether you went to church every single Sunday like me or just the opposite. What did you learn about who held the power, who determined what was allowed and not, right and wrong, good and bad? Chances are high there was little choice: you either believed or you didn’t; you acceded to the system and the beliefs, or you did not. And that either/or, black/white binary profoundly (and painfully) limits your spirituality, your experience of the sacred. It breaks my heart.

This woman, the Shunammite offers you something far different. Decide for yourself what you will believe, what you will hope in, what is worth fighting for. You get to choose, experience, and know the sacred on your own terms.

 

3) This woman refused to take “no” for an answer

— especially from those who wielded far more power and authority. She didn’t ask for her husband’s permission. She wouldn’t let Elisha’s servant serve as proxy. In fact, she conjured the power-source himself into her midst by adamantly refusing anything less.

Consider the places in your life — past and present — in which the tendency or temptation to comply or compromise has been not only present, but overwhelming. Because…well…let’s be honest: to stand up for yourself, to state your opinion, to exert your own power often feels more exhausting than it’s worth. To be just a little smaller, accept just a little less, take on just a bit more, and silently endure isn’t your first choice, but sometimes, quite frankly, it feels like the most sane one. Saying “yes,” even though it’s not wholehearted becomes far easier than having to stand fast, resist, and remain firm. I understand, believe me.

This woman, the Shunammite offers you something far different. “No” can be your default response — to any form of compromise, to any requirement that you give up hope, to any person of power who wants you to settle down or settle, period.

********

Pretty good stuff, huh? And all from a dusty, old, and relatively unknown story that (still) offers us powerful and relevant ways of being that are relevant, practical, and applicable right now, today, in this moment. (I love that this is the case!!)

So, by way of review:
1) Do just the opposite of the rules and expectations in place.
2) Define and experience the sacred on your own terms; create your own spirituality.
3) Say “no” to any form of power who prefers less of you instead of all of you.

*******

This story, the Shunammite’s is one of 52 that I reimagine and retell so that you can be accompanied, advocated for, and supported by the wisdom you deserve for the year ahead.

One of these stories, these women, is choosing you. I’m certain of it!

Learn more, then order your 2022 SacredReading today. 50% off through 12/20/21!

Why I Left My Corporate Job

My thoughts on fear, courage, and being an entrepreneur.

In January of 2018 I left my 10-year-old online business for a job as a trainer/facilitator with a Leadership Development company. Though it was a complicated decision — walking away from my website, blogging, subscribers, my online presence — I knew it was the right one.

I was right. I loved the work. I loved the content I got to teach. And I loved the people I worked with. Just a year later, I was promoted. Then, just over a year later, Covid descended. Then, months after that, there was an unexpected senior leadership change. Then, everything changed.

In the midst of such, and regrettably, I watched myself move into my highly-honed default behaviors of compromise and compliance. I kept my head down. I didn’t speak up. I pulled back. I did what was required — but with less heart, less presence, less “me.” Until…

I pulled back far enough to notice. I had to honestly acknowledge that I was behaving in ways that were completely antithetical to who I knew myself to be. And though I couldn’t have known where it would lead, I said to myself, “No more.”

And then, things got even harder (as is almost always the case when we choose our own integrity, authenticity, and alignment over compromise and compliance). And harder still. Eventually, through a “mutual separation agreement,” I left. September 17, 2020.

It is hard to make choices on our own behalf when they are costly, when there is so much at stake, when fear of the unknown looms.

I believe this is almost always the nature of it — at least as I look back on the most significant decisions and transitions in my life. I also believe that bearing those costs and facing those fears exponentially increased the reward, my sense of strength and capacity, my awareness of my own value and worth.

If you are sitting at a crossroads, where the laundry list of costs feels nearly overwhelming, where what’s at stake is pretty much everything, where the fear of the unknown feels dark and scary, here’s what I want you to know:

  • Consider that the complexity and cost is the very evidence you need to confirm just how important this choice is, just how capable and worthy you are to make it, just how much you and your desires matter.
  • If it were simple or benign, you would have already made the move, had the conversation, left the job, risked it all, started your own business, enforced the boundary.It’s NOT simple or benign. Which is WHY it is asking so much of you.
  • Know that your costs and fears are real. You get to acknowledge them instead of push them under the surface. Not once, but over and over again. Though this feels daunting, it is like Olympic training: building strength you didn’t know you had in order to face and surmount challenges you didn’t know you could.
  • Trust me when I tell you that you are no less worthy if you wait, if you hold off, if you can’t bear those costs right now. I understand. You are still more than enough.

*****

Now just over a year out from my seemingly-stable corporate position that offered me a steady paycheck and benefits and frequent flyer miles and an expense account — I feel the to-be-expected angst of being on my own.

Day-in, day-out I see the costs, what’s at stake, and all my fears lined up like toy soldiers in front of my computer monitor waiting to be addressed or ignored, tackled or given into.

Day in, day-out I remind myself of what I’m doing and why it matters.

And day in, day-out I recognize that in spite of it all, I am choosing me — over and over again. Most days, that is more than enough benefit to stay the course, trust myself, and persist. Easy? Not at all. Worthwhile? That IS the risk, the gamble, and the focus of my endless hope.

May it be so.