Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Friday, July 22, 2011
Appreciation or Judgment?
I’m a little nervous about moving from Central Denver to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. My neighborhood in Central Denver, Park Hill, is one of the oldest intentionally integrated neighborhoods in the country. My neighbors are diverse and interesting. People in Park Hill have a sense of community.
We’re moving to Myrtle Beach not to retire but to be close to my mom. We want to enjoy time with her now, while she’s well, and be there when she needs more help. After living in a dry climate without a lot of bugs, I’m not looking forward to living with both of these things in South Carolina. Time with mom, however, trumps humidity and bugs.
What makes me nervous about moving to South Carolina is more about culture than weather. Last year, when we visited for Thanksgiving, I read about a heated debate going on between people who thought the Confederate flag should be flown over the statehouse and those who didn’t.
My mom lives in a nice, middle class neighborhood and we want to live either in that neighborhood or close by. I’ve noticed several Confederate flags flying in that neighborhood. I don’t know what the Confederate flag means to those who fly it, but I know what it means to me, and it’s not a good association.
Although I have real concerns about our South Carolina move, I must remember the principle that we get more of what we focus our energy and attention on. I could choose to focus on all the things that make me nervous about living in South Carolina. Or I can focus on what I appreciate.
While there in June, I noticed a driver stop on a busy street, with a long line of cars behind him, to let a car pull out that had been waiting for an opening in traffic to turn onto that main street. Whenever I walk in mom’s neighborhood, people always wave as they drive.
The ocean has always been a place where I feel peaceful and inspired and we would live less than a mile from the water. And of course the main reason we’re moving, time with mom. I love the thought that I can call her anytime and say “Mom, we’re putting something on the grill, come over for dinner.” She’s healthy but has lost a lot of weight. She doesn’t enjoy cooking just for herself and eating alone. I don’t blame her.
I have a choice—focus on what I appreciate about living in Myrtle Beach or focus on what gives me agita. To the degree I focus on the benefits of living there, I cannot at the same time focus on what I don’t like.
My choice is to focus on what I appreciate. We may not stay there forever, but while we’re there, I’ll appreciate our new home.
What have you noticed about the power of focusing your attention on what you appreciate?
We’re moving to Myrtle Beach not to retire but to be close to my mom. We want to enjoy time with her now, while she’s well, and be there when she needs more help. After living in a dry climate without a lot of bugs, I’m not looking forward to living with both of these things in South Carolina. Time with mom, however, trumps humidity and bugs.
What makes me nervous about moving to South Carolina is more about culture than weather. Last year, when we visited for Thanksgiving, I read about a heated debate going on between people who thought the Confederate flag should be flown over the statehouse and those who didn’t.
My mom lives in a nice, middle class neighborhood and we want to live either in that neighborhood or close by. I’ve noticed several Confederate flags flying in that neighborhood. I don’t know what the Confederate flag means to those who fly it, but I know what it means to me, and it’s not a good association.
Although I have real concerns about our South Carolina move, I must remember the principle that we get more of what we focus our energy and attention on. I could choose to focus on all the things that make me nervous about living in South Carolina. Or I can focus on what I appreciate.
While there in June, I noticed a driver stop on a busy street, with a long line of cars behind him, to let a car pull out that had been waiting for an opening in traffic to turn onto that main street. Whenever I walk in mom’s neighborhood, people always wave as they drive.
The ocean has always been a place where I feel peaceful and inspired and we would live less than a mile from the water. And of course the main reason we’re moving, time with mom. I love the thought that I can call her anytime and say “Mom, we’re putting something on the grill, come over for dinner.” She’s healthy but has lost a lot of weight. She doesn’t enjoy cooking just for herself and eating alone. I don’t blame her.
I have a choice—focus on what I appreciate about living in Myrtle Beach or focus on what gives me agita. To the degree I focus on the benefits of living there, I cannot at the same time focus on what I don’t like.
My choice is to focus on what I appreciate. We may not stay there forever, but while we’re there, I’ll appreciate our new home.
What have you noticed about the power of focusing your attention on what you appreciate?
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Expectations and Outcomes
We get what we expect. I believe this to be true but wasn’t aware of the subtle ways it operated in my life. A recent experience reminded me about the consequences of certain expectations.
I’d just finished teaching a 4 day class with 2 colleagues in Wisconsin. The group we taught shall remain nameless but it was a tough crowd and we were all glad to be heading home Thursday evening.
Although on different airlines, my colleague Beth and I shared a cab to the airport. The taxi driver reported many flight delays because of bad weather on the east coast. He checked our flight times on his phone. Beth’s flight was delayed a couple hours, he told us. It appeared that my flight was on time.
Because I’d printed out my boarding pass at the hotel, I went straight through security. As soon as I got through security, I saw a sign at a gate that said Denver. I sat down and made some phone calls. I overheard a guy on the phone next to me saying the Denver plane was delayed an hour.
I didn’t check the monitor after I overheard the guy on the phone. I just sat at the gate, catching up on calls.
An hour after my flight’s scheduled departure, I did check a monitor for my flight’s departure time. My flight wasn’t listed. At the gate where I’d been sitting, a Minnesota flight was now shown.
When I called United, they said my flight had left on time.
How could that have happened? I never heard the flight called. Clearly I’d been at the wrong gate and misinterpreted what I overheard the guy on the phone say.
I went back to the ticket counter. The only flight to Denver that evening was the Frontier flight my colleague Beth was on. I walked over to the United counter where a lone agent seemed to be closing up for the day and told him my saga. I can’t imagine how this happened, I kept saying.
He took my boarding pass, looked me up on the computer and then handed me a piece of paper. “I got you on the Frontier flight,” he said. “I’m sorry but you’ll have to wait in the Frontier line because I can’t print your boarding pass.” No change fee, no additional fare, and I would get home that night.
It’s still amazing to me that this happened. Yet my expectation that there would be a delay had me looking for evidence of that. Instead of my usual diligence when I travel, I made a stupid mistake.
Where else in my life, I wondered, do I allow expectations to limit me? What would happen if I raised my expectations in all areas of my life? Those are the questions I’m contemplating these days.
How do you see your expectations impacting the results you’re getting in your life?
I’d just finished teaching a 4 day class with 2 colleagues in Wisconsin. The group we taught shall remain nameless but it was a tough crowd and we were all glad to be heading home Thursday evening.
Although on different airlines, my colleague Beth and I shared a cab to the airport. The taxi driver reported many flight delays because of bad weather on the east coast. He checked our flight times on his phone. Beth’s flight was delayed a couple hours, he told us. It appeared that my flight was on time.
Because I’d printed out my boarding pass at the hotel, I went straight through security. As soon as I got through security, I saw a sign at a gate that said Denver. I sat down and made some phone calls. I overheard a guy on the phone next to me saying the Denver plane was delayed an hour.
I didn’t check the monitor after I overheard the guy on the phone. I just sat at the gate, catching up on calls.
An hour after my flight’s scheduled departure, I did check a monitor for my flight’s departure time. My flight wasn’t listed. At the gate where I’d been sitting, a Minnesota flight was now shown.
When I called United, they said my flight had left on time.
How could that have happened? I never heard the flight called. Clearly I’d been at the wrong gate and misinterpreted what I overheard the guy on the phone say.
I went back to the ticket counter. The only flight to Denver that evening was the Frontier flight my colleague Beth was on. I walked over to the United counter where a lone agent seemed to be closing up for the day and told him my saga. I can’t imagine how this happened, I kept saying.
He took my boarding pass, looked me up on the computer and then handed me a piece of paper. “I got you on the Frontier flight,” he said. “I’m sorry but you’ll have to wait in the Frontier line because I can’t print your boarding pass.” No change fee, no additional fare, and I would get home that night.
It’s still amazing to me that this happened. Yet my expectation that there would be a delay had me looking for evidence of that. Instead of my usual diligence when I travel, I made a stupid mistake.
Where else in my life, I wondered, do I allow expectations to limit me? What would happen if I raised my expectations in all areas of my life? Those are the questions I’m contemplating these days.
How do you see your expectations impacting the results you’re getting in your life?
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Fixed or Growth Mindset?
A coaching client recommended a wonderful book to me called Mindset: The New Psychology of Success by Carol Dweck.
Dweck has some interesting illustrations about the difference between a growth mindset and a fixed mindset. Her terms aptly describe each mindset.
People with a growth mindset are always interested in growth and learning. They look for the lessons in failures or setbacks and examine how they can do better next time.
She uses Michael Jordan as an example of someone with a growth mindset. She talks about how he increased the intensity of his practice after being cut from his high school basketball team. She also relates the story of Jordan relying on his past success when he returned to basketball after a stint playing baseball. After a dismal season, he resumed his formerly diligent practice and the Bulls won the NBA title for the next three years.
Michael Jordan’s growth mindset is contrasted to former tennis great John McEnroe’s fixed mindset. McEnroe rarely took responsibility for his losses. He always blamed his loss on an external reason—the weather, the tabloids, his health.
Dweck talks about the dangers of putting too much stock in talent and that anyone can improve with practice. If we rely too much on what we believe to be natural talent, we may want to protect our image rather than develop our talent.
This theory made a lot of sense to me. I like to think of myself as always having a growth mindset, yet I can identify times when that’s not so. As I cleaned out my office recently, I came across evidence of a place I got stuck in a fixed mindset.
I had signed up for a writing workshop, which is different than a class. At a workshop, you bring work to be critiqued. When I signed up, I didn’t understand the distinction between class and workshop.
There were 8 excellent writers in the workshop—and me. You’d think I’d be thrilled to be with such good writers. That wasn’t the case. I felt intimidated and kept telling myself how much more talent they had than me. I ended up dropping the workshop
What I found when cleaning my office was a file with work that I had submitted for critique. I never read the comments.
What Dweck talked about rang true to me. Stuck in the belief that writing is a talent, I didn’t work harder when amongst accomplished writers. Instead I shrunk back and used the belief that writing is a talent as an excuse.
It was much easier reading about fixed mindset people in Dweck’s book than facing the places in my own life where I get stuck in a fixed mindset. I’ve committed to spend time with the class’s comments on my work and look for ways to improve my writing. And keep myself open to a growth mindset in all areas.
What makes sense to you about the idea of growth versus fixed mindsets?
Dweck has some interesting illustrations about the difference between a growth mindset and a fixed mindset. Her terms aptly describe each mindset.
People with a growth mindset are always interested in growth and learning. They look for the lessons in failures or setbacks and examine how they can do better next time.
She uses Michael Jordan as an example of someone with a growth mindset. She talks about how he increased the intensity of his practice after being cut from his high school basketball team. She also relates the story of Jordan relying on his past success when he returned to basketball after a stint playing baseball. After a dismal season, he resumed his formerly diligent practice and the Bulls won the NBA title for the next three years.
Michael Jordan’s growth mindset is contrasted to former tennis great John McEnroe’s fixed mindset. McEnroe rarely took responsibility for his losses. He always blamed his loss on an external reason—the weather, the tabloids, his health.
Dweck talks about the dangers of putting too much stock in talent and that anyone can improve with practice. If we rely too much on what we believe to be natural talent, we may want to protect our image rather than develop our talent.
This theory made a lot of sense to me. I like to think of myself as always having a growth mindset, yet I can identify times when that’s not so. As I cleaned out my office recently, I came across evidence of a place I got stuck in a fixed mindset.
I had signed up for a writing workshop, which is different than a class. At a workshop, you bring work to be critiqued. When I signed up, I didn’t understand the distinction between class and workshop.
There were 8 excellent writers in the workshop—and me. You’d think I’d be thrilled to be with such good writers. That wasn’t the case. I felt intimidated and kept telling myself how much more talent they had than me. I ended up dropping the workshop
What I found when cleaning my office was a file with work that I had submitted for critique. I never read the comments.
What Dweck talked about rang true to me. Stuck in the belief that writing is a talent, I didn’t work harder when amongst accomplished writers. Instead I shrunk back and used the belief that writing is a talent as an excuse.
It was much easier reading about fixed mindset people in Dweck’s book than facing the places in my own life where I get stuck in a fixed mindset. I’ve committed to spend time with the class’s comments on my work and look for ways to improve my writing. And keep myself open to a growth mindset in all areas.
What makes sense to you about the idea of growth versus fixed mindsets?
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Trusting Ourselves
Tom and I took our house off the market today. It’s been on the market for six and a half months yet after 70 showings, we didn’t have one offer. Our realtor said he wasn’t getting much feedback, that it was a price issue and we had to lower the price yet again.
My gut told me it wasn’t a price issue and that lowering the price wouldn’t bring a buyer. My gut also told me that our realtor wasn’t doing a good job for us but I didn't want to listen to that.
I like our realtor. Seven years ago he sold us this home and also sold our other home. He made the deals work for all parties. I trusted his integrity. Yet this time, I felt his only strategy to sell the house was to lower the price.
We’d done everything we knew to do to support the sale. A very artistic, creative friend went through the house and told us changes to make, we visualized the sold sign in front of the house, I even had a shaman come and clear the energy. Still no buyer.
It was only after talking to a friend who used to run a real estate office that I accepted that our realtor wasn’t doing a good job for us. Tom and I decided to interview 2 other realtors and maybe switch when the listing expired on July 30.
One of the realtors we interviewed came into the house with a list of things she felt interfered with us getting a buyer. She generously shared her ideas without even knowing if we were going to give her the listing. She liked our house and felt she could sell it. Tom and I agreed.
We have to wait for our current listing contract to expire to list with her so we chose to take the house off the market, make the changes she suggested, and put it back on the market July 31. We both feel good about the decision.
It’s interesting, however, that my gut knew that our realtor was not doing a good job for us but my head over rode that feeling. “But he did a great job for us last time, but the market really is bad, but, but, but…
Finally my head and my gut aligned. I feel sure we’re headed for a better outcome with this new agent. It was a good lesson for me in trusting my gut, paying attention to that uncomfortable feeling and asking questions about its message rather than trying to shut it down with logic.
I’m grateful for that valuable lesson and will use it to be more closely attuned and trusting of my inner knowing.
What helps you trust yourself?
My gut told me it wasn’t a price issue and that lowering the price wouldn’t bring a buyer. My gut also told me that our realtor wasn’t doing a good job for us but I didn't want to listen to that.
I like our realtor. Seven years ago he sold us this home and also sold our other home. He made the deals work for all parties. I trusted his integrity. Yet this time, I felt his only strategy to sell the house was to lower the price.
We’d done everything we knew to do to support the sale. A very artistic, creative friend went through the house and told us changes to make, we visualized the sold sign in front of the house, I even had a shaman come and clear the energy. Still no buyer.
It was only after talking to a friend who used to run a real estate office that I accepted that our realtor wasn’t doing a good job for us. Tom and I decided to interview 2 other realtors and maybe switch when the listing expired on July 30.
One of the realtors we interviewed came into the house with a list of things she felt interfered with us getting a buyer. She generously shared her ideas without even knowing if we were going to give her the listing. She liked our house and felt she could sell it. Tom and I agreed.
We have to wait for our current listing contract to expire to list with her so we chose to take the house off the market, make the changes she suggested, and put it back on the market July 31. We both feel good about the decision.
It’s interesting, however, that my gut knew that our realtor was not doing a good job for us but my head over rode that feeling. “But he did a great job for us last time, but the market really is bad, but, but, but…
Finally my head and my gut aligned. I feel sure we’re headed for a better outcome with this new agent. It was a good lesson for me in trusting my gut, paying attention to that uncomfortable feeling and asking questions about its message rather than trying to shut it down with logic.
I’m grateful for that valuable lesson and will use it to be more closely attuned and trusting of my inner knowing.
What helps you trust yourself?
Monday, July 4, 2011
The Promise of American
It’s easy for me to give myself agita over the challenges that our country currently faces. Recently on the radio I heard a commentator speculate that the Republican strategy right now is to be uncooperative because the worse the economy is, the better their chances of success in 2012.
It frustrates me that that the question most politicians seem to ask is “How can I/we win?” rather than “What will best serve the American people?” If the economy worsens, how many people will suffer, how many will lose their jobs and their homes?
And don’t even get me started on questionable wars, healthcare and education!
Certainly we have our challenges. Yet recently I spoke to a cab driver who drove me from my hotel to the Atlanta airport. He was from Eritrea in Africa. He’d been here 3
and a half years and couldn’t say enough good things about America.
“If you do things right,” he said, “this is a great country for opportunity.” He drove a cab full time and also went to school fulltime, as the textbook on the seat next to him confirmed. “It’s hard on my family for me to be gone so much but we know it is worth it,” he asserted.
Of Eritrea, Wikipedia says: “The human rights record of Eritrea is considered poor. Eritrea is a one-party state in which national legislative elections have been repeatedly postponed.” Coming from Eritrea, America surely must look good to that hard-working cab driver.
Then I reflect on the fact that my father came to this country from Sicily at the age of 6. My maternal grandfather emigrated from a town near Naples at the age of 15. Although I’m very proud of my Italian heritage, what would my life have been like if I’d been born in Italy? Would I have an education? Would I have travelled, been able to make the choices I’ve made, experienced the personal and professional growth that have enriched my life?
I suspect my life would have been very different had I been born and reared in Italy. This 4th of July finds me grateful to be an American, to have the quality of life that I’ve enjoyed. I feel hopeful that we can continue to make this country better and more aligned with the principles of our founders. And I’m motivated and inspired, within my sphere of influence, to do my part.
What’s your experience of being an American?
It frustrates me that that the question most politicians seem to ask is “How can I/we win?” rather than “What will best serve the American people?” If the economy worsens, how many people will suffer, how many will lose their jobs and their homes?
And don’t even get me started on questionable wars, healthcare and education!
Certainly we have our challenges. Yet recently I spoke to a cab driver who drove me from my hotel to the Atlanta airport. He was from Eritrea in Africa. He’d been here 3
and a half years and couldn’t say enough good things about America.
“If you do things right,” he said, “this is a great country for opportunity.” He drove a cab full time and also went to school fulltime, as the textbook on the seat next to him confirmed. “It’s hard on my family for me to be gone so much but we know it is worth it,” he asserted.
Of Eritrea, Wikipedia says: “The human rights record of Eritrea is considered poor. Eritrea is a one-party state in which national legislative elections have been repeatedly postponed.” Coming from Eritrea, America surely must look good to that hard-working cab driver.
Then I reflect on the fact that my father came to this country from Sicily at the age of 6. My maternal grandfather emigrated from a town near Naples at the age of 15. Although I’m very proud of my Italian heritage, what would my life have been like if I’d been born in Italy? Would I have an education? Would I have travelled, been able to make the choices I’ve made, experienced the personal and professional growth that have enriched my life?
I suspect my life would have been very different had I been born and reared in Italy. This 4th of July finds me grateful to be an American, to have the quality of life that I’ve enjoyed. I feel hopeful that we can continue to make this country better and more aligned with the principles of our founders. And I’m motivated and inspired, within my sphere of influence, to do my part.
What’s your experience of being an American?
Thursday, June 16, 2011
No ‘Have Nots’
Lynne Twist wrote a book called the Soul of Money. When I read the book, it shifted my perspective on giving. Lynne has worked all over the world with indigenous people and with moneyed people. She brings these two groups together for mutual benefit.
Everyone brings something to the table, says Lynn. People who are looking for financial resources to start a micro business or dig a well in their village or any other enterprise, bring their spirit and creative ideas to the table. Donors bring money and receive the satisfaction that they’ve made a difference.
When Lynne recently spoke in Denver, I participated in an afternoon workshop with her. Even though I remembered the concept from her book that there are no ‘have nots’, that everyone is a ‘have’, everyone brings something to the table, it struck a deeper cord in me as she spoke.
In a consumer culture, it’s easy to see ‘haves’ as only those with great financial resources. By seeing people through only one lens, the size of their bank account, it dishonors them. To think that financial resources are more valuable than anything else dishonors everyone who has something unique to offer and may not have a large bank account.
Perhaps a tattoo—‘we’re all haves’ would help me to remember that. I can make someone a ‘have not’ when I judge them for well, not thinking more like me! I want to stay in the ‘we’re all haves’ mindset so that I can pay attention to what everyone brings to the table.
Another aspect of ‘we’re all haves’ struck me as soon as I turned my phone on after Lynne’s Sunday afternoon workshop. A colleague needed me to pinch hit for her on Monday and teach the first day of a two day communication skills class to a group of rocket scientists.
For a moment, I was completely intimidated by the level of intelligence that could actually figure out how to launch something into space! Then I reminded myself that I’m a ‘have’ even if my ‘have’ looks different than that of the rocket scientists.
I showed up with the group knowing I had something to offer. I brought my humor as well as my course content expertise to the class. We had a fun and productive day. My colleague, who taught the second day of class, said day two went well and the class gave us both excellent evaluations. If I had allowed myself to be intimidated by the collective IQ in the room, and see myself as a ‘have not’ instead of a ‘have’ I suspect there might have been a different outcome.
What does the concept of everyone bringing something to the table inspire in you?
Everyone brings something to the table, says Lynn. People who are looking for financial resources to start a micro business or dig a well in their village or any other enterprise, bring their spirit and creative ideas to the table. Donors bring money and receive the satisfaction that they’ve made a difference.
When Lynne recently spoke in Denver, I participated in an afternoon workshop with her. Even though I remembered the concept from her book that there are no ‘have nots’, that everyone is a ‘have’, everyone brings something to the table, it struck a deeper cord in me as she spoke.
In a consumer culture, it’s easy to see ‘haves’ as only those with great financial resources. By seeing people through only one lens, the size of their bank account, it dishonors them. To think that financial resources are more valuable than anything else dishonors everyone who has something unique to offer and may not have a large bank account.
Perhaps a tattoo—‘we’re all haves’ would help me to remember that. I can make someone a ‘have not’ when I judge them for well, not thinking more like me! I want to stay in the ‘we’re all haves’ mindset so that I can pay attention to what everyone brings to the table.
Another aspect of ‘we’re all haves’ struck me as soon as I turned my phone on after Lynne’s Sunday afternoon workshop. A colleague needed me to pinch hit for her on Monday and teach the first day of a two day communication skills class to a group of rocket scientists.
For a moment, I was completely intimidated by the level of intelligence that could actually figure out how to launch something into space! Then I reminded myself that I’m a ‘have’ even if my ‘have’ looks different than that of the rocket scientists.
I showed up with the group knowing I had something to offer. I brought my humor as well as my course content expertise to the class. We had a fun and productive day. My colleague, who taught the second day of class, said day two went well and the class gave us both excellent evaluations. If I had allowed myself to be intimidated by the collective IQ in the room, and see myself as a ‘have not’ instead of a ‘have’ I suspect there might have been a different outcome.
What does the concept of everyone bringing something to the table inspire in you?
Sunday, May 22, 2011
The Power of Resilience
My neighbor Reola’s garden got trampled last fall. A huge basement remodel resulted in workers walking through her 20’x3’garden as they did their work. I watched the process through my home office window which faces the side of her house.
Not being a great gardener myself, I loved the fullness and variety of her garden, with lilies and ground cover and colorful plants whose names aren’t in my vocabulary.
It surprised me when this spring, I witnessed Reola watering the trampled garden that still held the carnage of her lilies. I asked her about her watering, as the garden looked dead to me. “They walked through the garden after the flowers lost their blooms,” Reola said . I’m hoping if I deep water the area, they will come back.”
Low and behold, about 80% of her garden returned. I’m happy because I get to enjoy it from my office window!
Watching her garden made me think about resiliency. Her plants contained a resiliency that I didn’t think was possible. I’ve known people like that as well. One man I know lost his job of 13 years because he couldn’t disprove an unjust allegation. Within a month he started his own business without speaking a negative word about the people who caused his dismissal.
An older woman I know lost her beloved spouse of 55 years, her sister and one of her closest friends within 6 months. She maintains a positive attitude and finds ways to continue to enjoy aspects of her life.
A dear friend experienced a layoff and immediately pursued creative projects that she’d put off because of her hectic work schedule. She gave herself a much needed break before pursuing her job search.
What makes some people more resilient than others? Can we learn to be resilient? These are the questions that Reola’s garden and my inspiring friends make me think about. I don’t know the answers.
I do know that as I observe resilient people, it helps me look at myself differently. In areas where I feel frustration or that something isn’t possible, I wonder what the situation would look like if I were more resilient.
It seems that resilience enables someone to take potentially crushing life circumstances and come out stronger. I often see this type of resilience in the women I volunteer with at the Denver Women’s Correctional Facility through the Making Choices program.
There is some truth to the Nietzsche quote “What does not kill me, makes me stronger,” although ultimately it’s a choice to be either made stronger or to feel victimized and disempowered by circumstances.
What do you think makes someone resilient?
Not being a great gardener myself, I loved the fullness and variety of her garden, with lilies and ground cover and colorful plants whose names aren’t in my vocabulary.
It surprised me when this spring, I witnessed Reola watering the trampled garden that still held the carnage of her lilies. I asked her about her watering, as the garden looked dead to me. “They walked through the garden after the flowers lost their blooms,” Reola said . I’m hoping if I deep water the area, they will come back.”
Low and behold, about 80% of her garden returned. I’m happy because I get to enjoy it from my office window!
Watching her garden made me think about resiliency. Her plants contained a resiliency that I didn’t think was possible. I’ve known people like that as well. One man I know lost his job of 13 years because he couldn’t disprove an unjust allegation. Within a month he started his own business without speaking a negative word about the people who caused his dismissal.
An older woman I know lost her beloved spouse of 55 years, her sister and one of her closest friends within 6 months. She maintains a positive attitude and finds ways to continue to enjoy aspects of her life.
A dear friend experienced a layoff and immediately pursued creative projects that she’d put off because of her hectic work schedule. She gave herself a much needed break before pursuing her job search.
What makes some people more resilient than others? Can we learn to be resilient? These are the questions that Reola’s garden and my inspiring friends make me think about. I don’t know the answers.
I do know that as I observe resilient people, it helps me look at myself differently. In areas where I feel frustration or that something isn’t possible, I wonder what the situation would look like if I were more resilient.
It seems that resilience enables someone to take potentially crushing life circumstances and come out stronger. I often see this type of resilience in the women I volunteer with at the Denver Women’s Correctional Facility through the Making Choices program.
There is some truth to the Nietzsche quote “What does not kill me, makes me stronger,” although ultimately it’s a choice to be either made stronger or to feel victimized and disempowered by circumstances.
What do you think makes someone resilient?
Friday, March 25, 2011
Saying No Can Preserve a Friendship
While connecting with people to say goodbye before we leave Denver, I reflected on a friendship that I completed some years ago. The friendship ended not because we’d grown in different directions or no longer shared mutual interests but because I couldn’t bring myself to say ‘no.’
After my friend’s breast cancer diagnosis, I was very supportive. I took her to her biopsy appointment, was with her the day of her surgery to remove the tumor and did a Reiki (a hands-on energy modality) session for her the night before her first chemo treatment. She feared her splitting headache would prevent her from going to her first treatment but the Reiki session relieved the pain and allowed her to keep her appointment.
At the time I worked in a high stress job and wasn’t handling the stress well. Yet any time my friend called and asked me to do anything, I said yes. I said yes because there was a little voice in me that said that ‘no’ was not an option.
Soon I got burned out from saying ‘yes’ and distanced myself from my friend, which destroyed our relationship. The loss of that precious friendship saddened me. We had a long history together, learned and grew together and laughed a lot.
A couple years after our friendship ended, I did a Voice Dialogue session. Drs. Hal and Sidra Stone developed Voice Dialogue as a way to access the many voices inside us. In the session, I told the facilitator about the loss of the friendship and how I still mourned it.
She facilitated my access to the voice that couldn’t say no, which she called the Pleaser. Then she had me physically move and talk to the opposite of the Pleaser. This voice said that all I needed to do was say ‘I can’t do that, but how can I help you? Can I make some calls for you?
It seemed so simple. Why hadn’t I figured that out? To figure it out meant giving myself permission to say ‘no’ and open to different ways of being supportive. The inability to say no cost me a precious friendship.
I saved an email she sent me after an unsuccessful reconciliation attempt. She wrote “I was reminded of why I always valued our friendship so much…you are absolutely the most creative, rigorous, stimulating, funny gal on the planet, and I always felt you helped me to be a better person.” When I occasionally reread the email, it makes me both smile and feel remorse for the loss.
When our paths sporadically cross, I’m glad to see that she’s happy and healthy. Sometimes I wonder why I didn’t learn about the Pleaser in time to preserve the friendship. Maybe my mistake will serve as a cautionary tale and give someone else permission to avoid unnecessary heartache by the simple use of the word ‘no.’
What have you learned about the power of saying ‘no’?
After my friend’s breast cancer diagnosis, I was very supportive. I took her to her biopsy appointment, was with her the day of her surgery to remove the tumor and did a Reiki (a hands-on energy modality) session for her the night before her first chemo treatment. She feared her splitting headache would prevent her from going to her first treatment but the Reiki session relieved the pain and allowed her to keep her appointment.
At the time I worked in a high stress job and wasn’t handling the stress well. Yet any time my friend called and asked me to do anything, I said yes. I said yes because there was a little voice in me that said that ‘no’ was not an option.
Soon I got burned out from saying ‘yes’ and distanced myself from my friend, which destroyed our relationship. The loss of that precious friendship saddened me. We had a long history together, learned and grew together and laughed a lot.
A couple years after our friendship ended, I did a Voice Dialogue session. Drs. Hal and Sidra Stone developed Voice Dialogue as a way to access the many voices inside us. In the session, I told the facilitator about the loss of the friendship and how I still mourned it.
She facilitated my access to the voice that couldn’t say no, which she called the Pleaser. Then she had me physically move and talk to the opposite of the Pleaser. This voice said that all I needed to do was say ‘I can’t do that, but how can I help you? Can I make some calls for you?
It seemed so simple. Why hadn’t I figured that out? To figure it out meant giving myself permission to say ‘no’ and open to different ways of being supportive. The inability to say no cost me a precious friendship.
I saved an email she sent me after an unsuccessful reconciliation attempt. She wrote “I was reminded of why I always valued our friendship so much…you are absolutely the most creative, rigorous, stimulating, funny gal on the planet, and I always felt you helped me to be a better person.” When I occasionally reread the email, it makes me both smile and feel remorse for the loss.
When our paths sporadically cross, I’m glad to see that she’s happy and healthy. Sometimes I wonder why I didn’t learn about the Pleaser in time to preserve the friendship. Maybe my mistake will serve as a cautionary tale and give someone else permission to avoid unnecessary heartache by the simple use of the word ‘no.’
What have you learned about the power of saying ‘no’?
Friday, March 18, 2011
How to support a friend
Since my departure date from Denver is a big unknown because it’s based on when our house sells, I’ve started scheduling ‘time to say goodbye’ meetings. There are people who aren’t a regular part of my life but who have been important to me and I want to make sure that I connect with them before I go.
One of these people is my friend May, who I had breakfast with last week. I met May in the early 80’s when I volunteered for the non-profit that she ran. Because of how she developed me as a volunteer, I later applied for and got the job as a community organizer with the non-profit.
May mentored and trained me for work that I’ve been doing for the last twenty-five plus years. She helped me overcome my terror about speaking in public. Her deep spirituality modeled for me that you can be spiritual without being religious. Since I was ‘religionless’ at the time, that was an important distinction.
One of the best things May taught me, however, was the meaning of support. I remember rambling on to her about some injustice that I had suffered (in those days, I suffered a lot from perceived injustices!). She patiently listened, and then she asked “how can I support you?”
I remember a jarring feeling because it wasn’t what I expected. What I expected was some version of “You poor thing, how could that bad and wrong person have done that to you.” With no warning, however, she offered “how can I support you?”
Her question hung there for what felt like a long time. Then I came up with something that she could do to support me. The ‘something’ I came up with shifted the conversation from me as whiny victim to me as someone ready to take action and move past what had happened.
It seems like such a simple thing—when someone has a challenge, ask how you can support them, rather than playing ‘ain’t it awful’ with them. The more we focus and help those we love focus on what we want rather than what we don’t want, the more apt we are to move in the direction of what we want rather than getting more of what we don’t want.
My life wouldn’t have been the same if I hadn’t met and learned from this wonderful woman. Of all the things I learned from her, how to offer positive support is the one that impacts my life almost daily.
How did you learn about giving and receiving positive support?
One of these people is my friend May, who I had breakfast with last week. I met May in the early 80’s when I volunteered for the non-profit that she ran. Because of how she developed me as a volunteer, I later applied for and got the job as a community organizer with the non-profit.
May mentored and trained me for work that I’ve been doing for the last twenty-five plus years. She helped me overcome my terror about speaking in public. Her deep spirituality modeled for me that you can be spiritual without being religious. Since I was ‘religionless’ at the time, that was an important distinction.
One of the best things May taught me, however, was the meaning of support. I remember rambling on to her about some injustice that I had suffered (in those days, I suffered a lot from perceived injustices!). She patiently listened, and then she asked “how can I support you?”
I remember a jarring feeling because it wasn’t what I expected. What I expected was some version of “You poor thing, how could that bad and wrong person have done that to you.” With no warning, however, she offered “how can I support you?”
Her question hung there for what felt like a long time. Then I came up with something that she could do to support me. The ‘something’ I came up with shifted the conversation from me as whiny victim to me as someone ready to take action and move past what had happened.
It seems like such a simple thing—when someone has a challenge, ask how you can support them, rather than playing ‘ain’t it awful’ with them. The more we focus and help those we love focus on what we want rather than what we don’t want, the more apt we are to move in the direction of what we want rather than getting more of what we don’t want.
My life wouldn’t have been the same if I hadn’t met and learned from this wonderful woman. Of all the things I learned from her, how to offer positive support is the one that impacts my life almost daily.
How did you learn about giving and receiving positive support?
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Fasting from doubt
When I was a kid, the beginning of Lent meant the end of sweets until Easter. We were supposed to ‘give something up for Lent’ and for most kids in my Catholic school, that 'giving up’ meant sweets. I don’t remember if we were coached to do that or if we were told we needed to give up something important to us and sweets were pretty important to most of us.
For years, when I observed Lent, I gave up sweets. Then I left the Church, and the whole idea of Lent just fell by the wayside. I only knew it was Ash Wednesday when I saw someone walking around with a dirty forehead. I realized they’d been to church, had the priest make the sign of the cross on their forehead with ashes and say “remember man that you are dust and unto dust you shall return.”
Many years after leaving the Catholic Church, I happened upon a book called Keep a True Lent, by Unity Church co-founder Charles Fillmore. Fillmore talked about the benefit of fasting and preparation for the time of renewal which was Easter. The book’s introduction cast fasting in a new light— “When we withdraw our attention, interest, and support from the false and the unworthy, this is true fasting.”
Since finding and using Fillmore’s book each year, Lent and Easter have taken on more meaning for me. I think in terms of what doesn’t serve me that I’d like to fast from. This year I decided to fast from self-doubt. Second guessing myself, not trusting my inner wisdom, has been a pattern that I can easily fall into. This year I’ll fast from self-doubt and open the way for greater confidence and connection to my inner guidance.
I once heard someone say that anything we do consistently will change our lives. So at least for the period of Lent, I will consistently guard my thoughts against self-doubt. Who knows, maybe I’ll be a different person by Easter!
If you were to choose to fast from something that didn’t serve you, what would that be?
For years, when I observed Lent, I gave up sweets. Then I left the Church, and the whole idea of Lent just fell by the wayside. I only knew it was Ash Wednesday when I saw someone walking around with a dirty forehead. I realized they’d been to church, had the priest make the sign of the cross on their forehead with ashes and say “remember man that you are dust and unto dust you shall return.”
Many years after leaving the Catholic Church, I happened upon a book called Keep a True Lent, by Unity Church co-founder Charles Fillmore. Fillmore talked about the benefit of fasting and preparation for the time of renewal which was Easter. The book’s introduction cast fasting in a new light— “When we withdraw our attention, interest, and support from the false and the unworthy, this is true fasting.”
Since finding and using Fillmore’s book each year, Lent and Easter have taken on more meaning for me. I think in terms of what doesn’t serve me that I’d like to fast from. This year I decided to fast from self-doubt. Second guessing myself, not trusting my inner wisdom, has been a pattern that I can easily fall into. This year I’ll fast from self-doubt and open the way for greater confidence and connection to my inner guidance.
I once heard someone say that anything we do consistently will change our lives. So at least for the period of Lent, I will consistently guard my thoughts against self-doubt. Who knows, maybe I’ll be a different person by Easter!
If you were to choose to fast from something that didn’t serve you, what would that be?
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Remaking or creating
I loved the movie True Grit when it first came out. Truth be told, I had a school girl crush on Glen Campbell. I was surprised to see the movie being remade. If it’s been done once, why repeat?
Movie remakes, TV shows brought to the US that were successful elsewhere, all raise the question for me—In this world of infinite possibility and infinite creativity, why are we remaking rather than trying new things?
I heard a commentary about this on the radio recently. They talked about importing TV shows that were successful in other countries because it increased the chances of success here. I guess you can point to The Office as an example. Yes, it translated and is successful, but so what?
That pull to copy something that’s worked and increase the odds of success is understandable. As the daughter of an immigrant, security and certainty were something to strive for. Dad worked for Mack Truck, in the engines, carrier and transmissions plant for 30 years.
He earned a decent wage because the shop was unionized. He had comprehensive benefits. He retired at 62 and enjoyed his retirement years until his health failed a year and a half before his transition.
Perhaps remakes and TV imports annoy me so much because I have a tug of war inside of me. ‘Think security’ my dad voices whispers. ‘Think living large and creatively’ my soul voice whispers.
It amazes me that of the billions of people who have lived on the planet, every one of them has been unique. Guess God (or whatever you believe in) wasn’t trying to hedge its bets and increase Its odds of success by cloning high achievers. No, I imagine that creative life saying ‘hmm, wonder what would happen if… and voila, a unique human is born.
Is it possible to have security and live creativity? I think it is if we realize that true security is an inside job. Helen Keller said it well, “Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature, nor do the children of men as a whole experience it. Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than outright exposure. Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing. To keep our faces toward change and behave like free spirits in the presence of fate is strength undefeatable.”
On my good days, I live the truth of Keller’s statement. On my wimpier days, I believe Keller’s sentiment but don’t live it. Ahh, to have more of those good, rich, creative, take risks, don’t-have-to-do-it perfectly days!
What’s possible if we focus on creativity rather than external security?
Movie remakes, TV shows brought to the US that were successful elsewhere, all raise the question for me—In this world of infinite possibility and infinite creativity, why are we remaking rather than trying new things?
I heard a commentary about this on the radio recently. They talked about importing TV shows that were successful in other countries because it increased the chances of success here. I guess you can point to The Office as an example. Yes, it translated and is successful, but so what?
That pull to copy something that’s worked and increase the odds of success is understandable. As the daughter of an immigrant, security and certainty were something to strive for. Dad worked for Mack Truck, in the engines, carrier and transmissions plant for 30 years.
He earned a decent wage because the shop was unionized. He had comprehensive benefits. He retired at 62 and enjoyed his retirement years until his health failed a year and a half before his transition.
Perhaps remakes and TV imports annoy me so much because I have a tug of war inside of me. ‘Think security’ my dad voices whispers. ‘Think living large and creatively’ my soul voice whispers.
It amazes me that of the billions of people who have lived on the planet, every one of them has been unique. Guess God (or whatever you believe in) wasn’t trying to hedge its bets and increase Its odds of success by cloning high achievers. No, I imagine that creative life saying ‘hmm, wonder what would happen if… and voila, a unique human is born.
Is it possible to have security and live creativity? I think it is if we realize that true security is an inside job. Helen Keller said it well, “Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature, nor do the children of men as a whole experience it. Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than outright exposure. Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing. To keep our faces toward change and behave like free spirits in the presence of fate is strength undefeatable.”
On my good days, I live the truth of Keller’s statement. On my wimpier days, I believe Keller’s sentiment but don’t live it. Ahh, to have more of those good, rich, creative, take risks, don’t-have-to-do-it perfectly days!
What’s possible if we focus on creativity rather than external security?
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Hero Waiting to Shine
The advertisement on the RTD bus had a picture of a young child in a super hero outfit with the caption “There’s a hero in all of us just waiting to shine.” The ad was to encourage people to ride the bus. I found myself thinking about the concept of heroism.
We tend to think of heroism in a narrow way—running into a burning building to save a child, throwing oneself on a grenade to save comrades.
Yet heroic is a word that often comes to mind when I observe aging people, especially in a culture like ours that worships youth and doesn’t seem to put much stock in the wisdom of its elders.
My friend Loris is a hero to me. Loris is 96 years old and sharp as the proverbial tack. She never married and her only surviving sibling lives in California. After living in her 2 bedroom home for 55 years, she made the decision to move into an independent living facility. She gave away most of her belongings and downsized to a studio apartment. She started a new life in a new home at the age of 93.
I was worried about her when she first moved but she seemed to make the transition well. Her response to my question about how she made such a big transition with seeming ease, she said it was because it was her idea. “Some people in here,” she said, “were told they were coming here by their kids. At least I made the decision for myself.”
She has no problem speaking her mind. When I told her we were painting the house, she said “Did you get rid of that awful purple in the dining room?” I assured her that we did!
She also was ahead of her time. She moved from Pueblo Colorado to Denver for her job. Her siblings tried to pressure her to move her parents to Denver to live with her. Her father was an alcoholic. “I’m not transplanting the problem,” she said when she refused her siblings’ request.
When her father died, she moved her mother up to Denver. “Those years my mother lived here with me were the best of her life. I enjoyed having her,” Loris shared.
To me Loris is a hero because somehow, despite the many losses she’s experienced in her long life, she finds a reason to get up every day. And not just to get up, but to have a good attitude and be pleasant to be around.
I wonder if I would have her attitude if I lived on my own surrounded by strangers, having outlived my friends and family. Somehow she finds meaning in her life. I consider her not only a hero, but a model for aging gracefully while remaining feisty!
How do you define heroism?
We tend to think of heroism in a narrow way—running into a burning building to save a child, throwing oneself on a grenade to save comrades.
Yet heroic is a word that often comes to mind when I observe aging people, especially in a culture like ours that worships youth and doesn’t seem to put much stock in the wisdom of its elders.
My friend Loris is a hero to me. Loris is 96 years old and sharp as the proverbial tack. She never married and her only surviving sibling lives in California. After living in her 2 bedroom home for 55 years, she made the decision to move into an independent living facility. She gave away most of her belongings and downsized to a studio apartment. She started a new life in a new home at the age of 93.
I was worried about her when she first moved but she seemed to make the transition well. Her response to my question about how she made such a big transition with seeming ease, she said it was because it was her idea. “Some people in here,” she said, “were told they were coming here by their kids. At least I made the decision for myself.”
She has no problem speaking her mind. When I told her we were painting the house, she said “Did you get rid of that awful purple in the dining room?” I assured her that we did!
She also was ahead of her time. She moved from Pueblo Colorado to Denver for her job. Her siblings tried to pressure her to move her parents to Denver to live with her. Her father was an alcoholic. “I’m not transplanting the problem,” she said when she refused her siblings’ request.
When her father died, she moved her mother up to Denver. “Those years my mother lived here with me were the best of her life. I enjoyed having her,” Loris shared.
To me Loris is a hero because somehow, despite the many losses she’s experienced in her long life, she finds a reason to get up every day. And not just to get up, but to have a good attitude and be pleasant to be around.
I wonder if I would have her attitude if I lived on my own surrounded by strangers, having outlived my friends and family. Somehow she finds meaning in her life. I consider her not only a hero, but a model for aging gracefully while remaining feisty!
How do you define heroism?
Friday, February 4, 2011
The Real Cost of 'Stuff'
My husband, Tom, and I are preparing to move from Denver to Raleigh. The only cross country move I’ve ever made was when I moved from Hagerstown, Maryland to Denver in 1980.
My friend Mare and I only expected to be in Denver for the summer. We put our possessions, aka stuff, in the back of her little station wagon named Butterscotch and headed west. When the summer turned into fall, we decided that we weren’t returning to Maryland.
This cross country move is different because we have a house full of stuff. Given the expense of moving this stuff to Raleigh, we’re wondering about the value of some of the things we own.
We visited my mom in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina for Thanksgiving and with the expense of moving in mind, I did some power shopping on Black Friday.
I was one of those crazy people in the stores at 5:00 a.m. the day after Thanksgiving so I could get the best deals on new stuff. I bought what I’d need for my kitchen and mom graciously stored it.
Tom and I started looking at the replacement costs of what we have and asked ourselves—how much of this do we really need? Is it worth moving furniture across the country to the furniture capital of the US?
It’s easy to accumulate. We receive gifts. Someone moves and gives us some things that we might need. We see a deal we can’t resist at a yard sale. We save something we haven’t used in 2 years just in case at some time in the future we might need it.
Tom and I are seriously considering ditching most of what we own that won’t fit into Tom’s truck and can’t be mailed to mom’s house.
At first the thought of getting rid of everything produced anxiety but the more I thought about it, the freer I felt. That feeling of freedom led to a commitment to be more discerning about the stuff I accumulate in our new home.
I already have a ‘one in, one out’ policy about books and clothing. I love books and have to be tough with myself about accumulating yet another book. Although I’m no clothes horse, I realized how easy it was to buy something simply because it was on sale and developed the habit of giving something away when I bought something new.
I’m committed to using my ‘one in, one out’ policy on everything in our new home. I’m also committed to looking at the real cost of anything I bring into the house. How much of my life energy will it take to maintain, dust, move around or otherwise engage with this new item? Will I own it and enjoy it or will it own my precious time?
Time will tell if I turn over a new leaf about stuff but I’m excited about the prospect of giving it a whirl.
What do you think about the real cost of stuff?
My friend Mare and I only expected to be in Denver for the summer. We put our possessions, aka stuff, in the back of her little station wagon named Butterscotch and headed west. When the summer turned into fall, we decided that we weren’t returning to Maryland.
This cross country move is different because we have a house full of stuff. Given the expense of moving this stuff to Raleigh, we’re wondering about the value of some of the things we own.
We visited my mom in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina for Thanksgiving and with the expense of moving in mind, I did some power shopping on Black Friday.
I was one of those crazy people in the stores at 5:00 a.m. the day after Thanksgiving so I could get the best deals on new stuff. I bought what I’d need for my kitchen and mom graciously stored it.
Tom and I started looking at the replacement costs of what we have and asked ourselves—how much of this do we really need? Is it worth moving furniture across the country to the furniture capital of the US?
It’s easy to accumulate. We receive gifts. Someone moves and gives us some things that we might need. We see a deal we can’t resist at a yard sale. We save something we haven’t used in 2 years just in case at some time in the future we might need it.
Tom and I are seriously considering ditching most of what we own that won’t fit into Tom’s truck and can’t be mailed to mom’s house.
At first the thought of getting rid of everything produced anxiety but the more I thought about it, the freer I felt. That feeling of freedom led to a commitment to be more discerning about the stuff I accumulate in our new home.
I already have a ‘one in, one out’ policy about books and clothing. I love books and have to be tough with myself about accumulating yet another book. Although I’m no clothes horse, I realized how easy it was to buy something simply because it was on sale and developed the habit of giving something away when I bought something new.
I’m committed to using my ‘one in, one out’ policy on everything in our new home. I’m also committed to looking at the real cost of anything I bring into the house. How much of my life energy will it take to maintain, dust, move around or otherwise engage with this new item? Will I own it and enjoy it or will it own my precious time?
Time will tell if I turn over a new leaf about stuff but I’m excited about the prospect of giving it a whirl.
What do you think about the real cost of stuff?
Friday, January 28, 2011
What Ben Franklin and George Clooney Have in Common
After the release of the movie Syriana, Barbara Walters interviewed George Clooney. She asked why he chose to do a role like that when he could make more money as a leading man. “I have enough money,” said Clooney. “It’s about the quality of the work.”
Walter Isaacson, in his biography about Benjamin Franklin, said that Franklin didn’t patent his Franklin stove. He structured his finances so that his retirement was comfortable and he felt like his invention belonged to everyone. What I read into that was that Franklin knew that he had enough.
Both of these men knew what was important to them and when they had enough. It struck me because I’ve fallen into the trap of ‘not enough’ at times in my life. I wasted precious present moments concerned about what I didn’t have. I sometimes looked at others who had more with longing tinged with envy.
British Happiness expert Anthony Seldon said this in a BBC interview: ”One needs to have a certain level of income so that one can have one’s own material needs looked after and if not, than one is unhappy, but beyond a certain point, the increase in happiness doesn’t continue increasing along with an increase in income. What also is a potent source of unhappiness is comparison with other people. If we’re constantly looking over our shoulder and thinking this person has a bigger house or a better car or a higher standard of living than I do, than that’s going to make you unhappy.”
Knowing what ‘enough’ is avoids that trap of thinking more is better and contributes to our ability to be happy right now. The old tried and true habit of appreciation helps us focus on what we have rather than what we don’t have.
When I’m feeling in a place of ‘not enough’ and that life would be better if I just had ‘x’, I express gratitude for what I have. This gratitude list is long, from a loving husband, to my stepson coming back into our lives, to good health, to a safe and comfortable home in a wonderful neighborhood, to wonderful friends, to enough to eat, to indoor plumbing.
Indoor plumbing is one of my favorites. When I think about how many people in the world don’t have clean drinking water and I can just turn on the tap and have clean water whenever I want, not to mention the joys of a hot shower, I feel grateful.
There’s nothing wrong with wanting expansion in our lives. We live in an abundant universe and life is meant to be enjoyed. Yet if we’re always straining for more, we’re not enjoying the now.
Substituting ‘and’ for ‘but’ helps me keep focus what's working right now. Rather than "I’d be happier if I had ‘x’," I say "I’m grateful for what I have and I’m open to receiving more.”
How do you stay connected to knowing what enough is in your life?
Walter Isaacson, in his biography about Benjamin Franklin, said that Franklin didn’t patent his Franklin stove. He structured his finances so that his retirement was comfortable and he felt like his invention belonged to everyone. What I read into that was that Franklin knew that he had enough.
Both of these men knew what was important to them and when they had enough. It struck me because I’ve fallen into the trap of ‘not enough’ at times in my life. I wasted precious present moments concerned about what I didn’t have. I sometimes looked at others who had more with longing tinged with envy.
British Happiness expert Anthony Seldon said this in a BBC interview: ”One needs to have a certain level of income so that one can have one’s own material needs looked after and if not, than one is unhappy, but beyond a certain point, the increase in happiness doesn’t continue increasing along with an increase in income. What also is a potent source of unhappiness is comparison with other people. If we’re constantly looking over our shoulder and thinking this person has a bigger house or a better car or a higher standard of living than I do, than that’s going to make you unhappy.”
Knowing what ‘enough’ is avoids that trap of thinking more is better and contributes to our ability to be happy right now. The old tried and true habit of appreciation helps us focus on what we have rather than what we don’t have.
When I’m feeling in a place of ‘not enough’ and that life would be better if I just had ‘x’, I express gratitude for what I have. This gratitude list is long, from a loving husband, to my stepson coming back into our lives, to good health, to a safe and comfortable home in a wonderful neighborhood, to wonderful friends, to enough to eat, to indoor plumbing.
Indoor plumbing is one of my favorites. When I think about how many people in the world don’t have clean drinking water and I can just turn on the tap and have clean water whenever I want, not to mention the joys of a hot shower, I feel grateful.
There’s nothing wrong with wanting expansion in our lives. We live in an abundant universe and life is meant to be enjoyed. Yet if we’re always straining for more, we’re not enjoying the now.
Substituting ‘and’ for ‘but’ helps me keep focus what's working right now. Rather than "I’d be happier if I had ‘x’," I say "I’m grateful for what I have and I’m open to receiving more.”
How do you stay connected to knowing what enough is in your life?
Sunday, January 23, 2011
The Journey of Grief
Yesterday marked the two year anniversary of my dad’s transition from this life into another. Last year I spent the anniversary day lying on the couch feeling nauseous. This year I functioned normally.
I lit my ‘dad candle,’ a candle that I light on holidays, special occasions or just when I’m missing him. It reminds me that dad is now playing in the light and my grief is separate from his death.
It wasn’t like his death was a surprise or untimely. He had a great quality of life for 86 years before beginning to fail. During his decline, I visited 8 times. A couple of those trips weren’t planned but were in response to emergencies.
Clearly, my dad’s death wasn’t unexpected. The grief, however, was a surprise. My intellect said I’d experienced anticipatory grief so when dad died, I’d be fine. That’s not what happened.
When I returned to Denver after the funeral, I was sick in bed for a week.
I decided to design a service to celebrate dad’s life with my friends, since the funeral Mass in South Carolina didn’t hold meaning for me. The service I created provided comfort, as did a grief class I took.
It still seemed, however, that an unconscious grief agenda superseded what I thought would be my response to my dad’s death. I could fight that unknown agenda or I could surrender. I surrendered.
All surrender means is that I live in ‘I don’t know’ regarding grief’s agenda and deal with the sadness as it arises. When the perkiness of the holidays grated on me, I attended a wonderful service of remembrance at a local church. The service provided a quiet, safe place for a needed sobfest.
The grief journey led me to decide to leave my home in Denver after 30 years to move east to be closer to mom. I never thought I’d leave Denver. Fortunately my understanding husband is supportive and onboard with this decision.
Another remnant of grief is the 25 pounds I gained after dad died. As I put on those pounds, I felt disconnected from the reason for the weight gain. One day, after the horror of stepping on the scale, I asked “What is this about?” “Dad” was the immediate response.
An intuitive friend sensed the weight reflected protection for the kid in me who felt unsafe in the world without her father. No amount of awareness or dieting seemed to banish the stubborn pounds.
Today, I’ve committed to finding the inner strength to feel safe and connect with the father energy beyond the physical. Today my grief journey enters another phase. That’s what I’m telling myself. We’ll see if my conscious and unconscious grief agendas are aligned. The loss of the protective weight will be an indicator.
What have you learned about the journey of grief?
I lit my ‘dad candle,’ a candle that I light on holidays, special occasions or just when I’m missing him. It reminds me that dad is now playing in the light and my grief is separate from his death.
It wasn’t like his death was a surprise or untimely. He had a great quality of life for 86 years before beginning to fail. During his decline, I visited 8 times. A couple of those trips weren’t planned but were in response to emergencies.
Clearly, my dad’s death wasn’t unexpected. The grief, however, was a surprise. My intellect said I’d experienced anticipatory grief so when dad died, I’d be fine. That’s not what happened.
When I returned to Denver after the funeral, I was sick in bed for a week.
I decided to design a service to celebrate dad’s life with my friends, since the funeral Mass in South Carolina didn’t hold meaning for me. The service I created provided comfort, as did a grief class I took.
It still seemed, however, that an unconscious grief agenda superseded what I thought would be my response to my dad’s death. I could fight that unknown agenda or I could surrender. I surrendered.
All surrender means is that I live in ‘I don’t know’ regarding grief’s agenda and deal with the sadness as it arises. When the perkiness of the holidays grated on me, I attended a wonderful service of remembrance at a local church. The service provided a quiet, safe place for a needed sobfest.
The grief journey led me to decide to leave my home in Denver after 30 years to move east to be closer to mom. I never thought I’d leave Denver. Fortunately my understanding husband is supportive and onboard with this decision.
Another remnant of grief is the 25 pounds I gained after dad died. As I put on those pounds, I felt disconnected from the reason for the weight gain. One day, after the horror of stepping on the scale, I asked “What is this about?” “Dad” was the immediate response.
An intuitive friend sensed the weight reflected protection for the kid in me who felt unsafe in the world without her father. No amount of awareness or dieting seemed to banish the stubborn pounds.
Today, I’ve committed to finding the inner strength to feel safe and connect with the father energy beyond the physical. Today my grief journey enters another phase. That’s what I’m telling myself. We’ll see if my conscious and unconscious grief agendas are aligned. The loss of the protective weight will be an indicator.
What have you learned about the journey of grief?
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Under New Management
“Under New Management” read the sign at the Conoco station on the corner of 14th and Leyden. I often see that sign on restaurants and other businesses.
Why is it important to know that the business is under new management? Was the old management awful and the sign invites customers to give it another shot? Was the old management great and the sign offers a warning that the new management might not be up to par?
My friend Steve wanted to make some changes in his life and decided that he was ‘under new management.’ He created ‘new Steve.’ When he faced a situation that brought up old uncomfortable feelings, he’d put ‘new Steve’ in charge and ask himself “What would ‘new Steve’ do in this situation?”
Using ‘new Steve’ allowed him to observe rather than react to what was happening and also gave him a different perspective. He talks about great changes that he’s made with the help of ‘new Steve.’
Joe Dispenza, author of Evolve Your Brain: The Science of Changing Your Mind, talks about the equivalent of putting our brains under new management. He says that “nerve cells that fire together, wire together.” I used to believe that I could go on mental rants about something— an inner political tirade, a harsh judgment about someone’s behavior or a self-flagellation session—without consequence. I mistakenly believed that as long as I didn’t say it out loud, it didn’t do any harm.
But Dispenza clearly shows through brain research that those rants have a price. Those thoughts keep us trapped in ways of being and behaving that don’t serve us.
I no longer give myself permission to take those mental road trips and instead use a simple technique that Dispenza teaches. He says first we must become aware of those mental patterns. When we recognize the patterns, we then simply say ‘stop.’
Saying ‘stop’ interrupts the brain circuit that’s reinforced by repetitively thinking those particular thoughts. When those patterns are interrupted, we can take the time to create new patterns that are more loving and in alignment with what we want.
This seems simple but many of those negative thought patterns are so practiced they run through our minds without conscious awareness. I realized this many years ago after I finally started to meditate daily.
As I drove to an appointment shortly after starting my practice, I became aware of a parade of worries, fears and regrets running through my mind. My first thought was that meditation made me think negatively! I quickly realized those thoughts had been running for a long time.
Meditation allowed me to be aware of the thoughts and decide whether they were indeed the ones I wanted taking up space in my brain. By ‘stopping’ those thoughts, I can
replace them with ones that serve me better— I can place myself Under New Management.
What does being “under new management” mean to you?
Why is it important to know that the business is under new management? Was the old management awful and the sign invites customers to give it another shot? Was the old management great and the sign offers a warning that the new management might not be up to par?
My friend Steve wanted to make some changes in his life and decided that he was ‘under new management.’ He created ‘new Steve.’ When he faced a situation that brought up old uncomfortable feelings, he’d put ‘new Steve’ in charge and ask himself “What would ‘new Steve’ do in this situation?”
Using ‘new Steve’ allowed him to observe rather than react to what was happening and also gave him a different perspective. He talks about great changes that he’s made with the help of ‘new Steve.’
Joe Dispenza, author of Evolve Your Brain: The Science of Changing Your Mind, talks about the equivalent of putting our brains under new management. He says that “nerve cells that fire together, wire together.” I used to believe that I could go on mental rants about something— an inner political tirade, a harsh judgment about someone’s behavior or a self-flagellation session—without consequence. I mistakenly believed that as long as I didn’t say it out loud, it didn’t do any harm.
But Dispenza clearly shows through brain research that those rants have a price. Those thoughts keep us trapped in ways of being and behaving that don’t serve us.
I no longer give myself permission to take those mental road trips and instead use a simple technique that Dispenza teaches. He says first we must become aware of those mental patterns. When we recognize the patterns, we then simply say ‘stop.’
Saying ‘stop’ interrupts the brain circuit that’s reinforced by repetitively thinking those particular thoughts. When those patterns are interrupted, we can take the time to create new patterns that are more loving and in alignment with what we want.
This seems simple but many of those negative thought patterns are so practiced they run through our minds without conscious awareness. I realized this many years ago after I finally started to meditate daily.
As I drove to an appointment shortly after starting my practice, I became aware of a parade of worries, fears and regrets running through my mind. My first thought was that meditation made me think negatively! I quickly realized those thoughts had been running for a long time.
Meditation allowed me to be aware of the thoughts and decide whether they were indeed the ones I wanted taking up space in my brain. By ‘stopping’ those thoughts, I can
replace them with ones that serve me better— I can place myself Under New Management.
What does being “under new management” mean to you?
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Trusting the ‘river of life’
A colleague, Justin, told me that he decided to leave his job and strike out on his own. “How did you reach that decision?” I asked. It appeared risky, as he has a young son. He replied, “As I’ve meditated on questions about my work, I’ve been connecting deeply with the river of life and I remembered that it’s for us. I was open to the creative ideas that arose from those meditations. Opportunities started to appear and I gave my notice.”
Speaking with Justin reminded me of an experience I had 12 years ago when I moved to Chicago from Denver to work on my book Gifts From our Grandmothers. My close friend, Karyn, lived there and was also working on a book. We planned to support each other in the completion of our books.
One Sunday, while attending a natural healing festival with a new friend, Saretta, she said,” You should have a session with Martin.” Saretta loved working with Martin. I’d encountered Martin at events like this before but never worked with him because, frankly, he looked a little odd. He always wore black, a white priest-like collar and a large wooden cross around his neck. He wasn’t an ordained minister. I guess he just liked the look.
For some reason when Saretta made that suggestion that day, I went up to Martin and requested a session.
Martin explained his hands-on energy work and said to tell him if I saw any images or colors. Oh, no,the performance anxiety— What if I don’t see anything? What if nothing extraordinary happens in the session? Did that mean that I failed?
No images or colors appeared until Martin commented that we were almost done. When he said that, my performance anxiety vanished, and I did ‘see’ something. A large wooden hand appeared in my mind’s eye. I felt a rush of emotion as I instinctively reached my hand out and placed it in that hand. I felt safe and deeply loved without knowing that I’d previously felt unsafe or unloved.
That feeling stayed with me when I found out later that night that I needed to move to a new place within a week. The transition to the new living situation went smoothly.
Karyn and I did finish our books that year and I headed back to Denver.
When I get anxious, in over-think and over-control mode, I forget about that river that runs through my life that I can trust. Sometimes I connect with it in my daily meditation but seldom with the depth that I experienced with Martin.
The affirmation I’m working with is—All that remains is trust; the knowledge that all events in life arise from the endless love of the universe and offer the opportunity for learning and recognition.
I’m grateful to Justin for that wonderful reminder about trust and connection to the wisdom within.
How do you stay connected to that place of trusting the ‘river of life?’
Speaking with Justin reminded me of an experience I had 12 years ago when I moved to Chicago from Denver to work on my book Gifts From our Grandmothers. My close friend, Karyn, lived there and was also working on a book. We planned to support each other in the completion of our books.
One Sunday, while attending a natural healing festival with a new friend, Saretta, she said,” You should have a session with Martin.” Saretta loved working with Martin. I’d encountered Martin at events like this before but never worked with him because, frankly, he looked a little odd. He always wore black, a white priest-like collar and a large wooden cross around his neck. He wasn’t an ordained minister. I guess he just liked the look.
For some reason when Saretta made that suggestion that day, I went up to Martin and requested a session.
Martin explained his hands-on energy work and said to tell him if I saw any images or colors. Oh, no,the performance anxiety— What if I don’t see anything? What if nothing extraordinary happens in the session? Did that mean that I failed?
No images or colors appeared until Martin commented that we were almost done. When he said that, my performance anxiety vanished, and I did ‘see’ something. A large wooden hand appeared in my mind’s eye. I felt a rush of emotion as I instinctively reached my hand out and placed it in that hand. I felt safe and deeply loved without knowing that I’d previously felt unsafe or unloved.
That feeling stayed with me when I found out later that night that I needed to move to a new place within a week. The transition to the new living situation went smoothly.
Karyn and I did finish our books that year and I headed back to Denver.
When I get anxious, in over-think and over-control mode, I forget about that river that runs through my life that I can trust. Sometimes I connect with it in my daily meditation but seldom with the depth that I experienced with Martin.
The affirmation I’m working with is—All that remains is trust; the knowledge that all events in life arise from the endless love of the universe and offer the opportunity for learning and recognition.
I’m grateful to Justin for that wonderful reminder about trust and connection to the wisdom within.
How do you stay connected to that place of trusting the ‘river of life?’
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