Share ThisCategory Archives: My Life
Dead Plants and Other Missed Opportunities
Sometimes life’s greatest lessons come to us in simple, yet profound ways. This week’s video is about an insight that hit me during a rather lame attempt I made with gardening. I hope you enjoy it!
Here’s what I said in the video:
See this? I bought it two weeks ago. I was so excited when I saw it. It was beautiful! These flowers were pink and vibrant with the just the perfect graceful little curve. And I couldn’t wait to get it home and put it in my garden.
So I bought it, I took it home and I didn’t have time to plant it right away. I left it on my patio and then I went and did all the things I thought I needed to do.
The next day I thought “Oh! My plants!” But I didn’t have time to plant them that day either. So I turned the hose on them and watered them and made sure they still looked beautiful and vibrant.
And the next day came and went.
And the day after that — “Aagh – oh no! My plants, my beautiful flowers!” I ran out to the patio and they looked like this.
And I realized something. When you get an idea — something that’s bursting in your head and blooming and beckoning, you’ve got to take action on it — when it’s in the prime of its life. Because if you don’t, those ideas, they fly right out of your head and they go somewhere else.
So, if you have something that’s blossoming, plant it now.
Plant while you’re blooming.
Arrogance vs. Humility: Embracing Your Brilliance
The lights are dimming and the crowd begins to hush. Music blares from all corners of the dark, expansive room. A spotlight illuminates the stage and cuts a circle in the red velvet curtain that falls from the ceiling above. In front of that curtain are proud parents and antsy siblings squirming in their seats, eager to be entertained. And behind it are nervous school children with hearts pumping and nerves tingling.
Last week my daughter was in a variety show along with a myriad of other students at Hopi Elementary School. They practiced for months. And I was one of a myriad of parents that toted children back and forth from rehearsal to rehearsal where the kids gradually perfected their acts and readied themselves for the spotlight. Finally their time had come.
As with every talent show, there were those who burst onto the stage with contagious energy and bright smiles, soaking up every ounce of the experience. And there were others who walked onto the platform and suddenly shrunk inside themselves, painfully aware that an entire auditorium of people were staring at them, watching and waiting expectantly.
I couldn’t help but think how every one of us has likely been in both categories at one time or another. Maybe not in a talent show, or on any kind of stage at all. But in our own everyday lives. In the theatre of our work, in the arena of our interaction with others — colleagues, customers, bosses, friends and acquaintances. Sometimes we rise to the occasion and we are present, effusive, bright and shining with enthusiasm and warmth. And other times we wither and withdraw — intimidated, nervous, awkward and doubtful.
In the latter scenario, there is no judge more critical than the one that lives in our own heads. Allowing it to hijack our attention, we quietly exit the scene while our bodies remain, vacant and taking up space. We nod our heads and smile, hear what others say and even comment sometimes. But we are far more engaged in an internal dialogue that has us believing we are not good enough, that we must be a little more of this or less of that. It has us planning and evaluating what we will say in response to a person who hasn’t even finished speaking, their words eclipsed by the roar of preoccupation going on between our own ears.
This is a dismal state to be in. In the midst of all the cruel self-judging, that part of us that is brilliant and loving, warm and engaging in whatever way is uniquely ours is dismissed. Or perhaps disallowed. How could we let it come forth while we banter about in our heads that we need to be anyone other than who we really are?
At the variety show, I really don’t believe the audience would judge a poor kid standing speechless or stuttering at the edge of the stage — but rather would cheer him on, showering him with beams of encouragement and love, silently wishing for him to loosen up, forget about the audience and have a little fun just being himself. And perhaps it is that way in our arenas as well.
When we withhold ourselves, we cheat others of experiencing the brilliance of who we really are. But before we cheat them of it, we cheat ourselves. Many of us are taught and conditioned to be humble and avoid the appearance of arrogance. But we confuse arrogance with self love, which is actually a prerequisite to humility. True arrogance is the product of someone who has no self love, and tries desperately to convince others he is superior and worthy of the very thing he denies himself of.
True humility occurs when we embrace our own greatness and love ourselves in a way that we don’t have to worry about how we are coming across or what others think of us, because we already know we have value. In embracing our own value and allowing our brilliance to shine, we light the way for others to do the same. It is this brilliance that will transform our world, that brings with it the creativity and ingenuity to rise up to our challenges and allow us to do things we never thought we could. Far from being self absorbed, sharing our brilliance in this way is the most generous and loving thing we could do for others. But before we can do it for them, we must do it for ourselves.
So the next time you find yourself engaging in a vicious dialogue that has you believing you are anything less than who you are and keeps you from bursting onto the scene, recognize that for what it is — an old pattern that isn’t doing you or anyone else any favors. The less you feed that dialogue, the less “self absorbed” you are and the more generous you can be with your brilliance. The audience begs you: come onto the stage, forget that you are being watched, have a little fun being who you really are — and show us all how to truly shine.
Simple Solutions for Getting Out of A Funk
Have you ever found yourself stuck in a lousy place, just not sure how to pull yourself back up? When we get that way, often times we tend to focus on things that will just bring us further down – evidence that supports why we have good reason to feel lousy. But every once in awhile, we open our eyes to find simple gifts that have the power to snap us out of it and bring us back to a better place. This week’s video is about my experience with a dear friend, who did just that for me many years ago – in a way that I will never forget.
Here’s what I said in the video…
There was a time in college I remember coming home just so down – in a really bad place. I had just taken an exam and I was sure I just totally blew it. And I think I was behind on several papers… and the guy I had a crush on didn’t even know I was alive… and I just felt terrible!
I came back and my roommate was there and I thought “oh this is great – I have somebody to unload on”. So I just pounced.
“Oh listen to what happened to me today, and then I did this, etc., etc., etc.” And I was just in my thing.
My roommate turned around – and I wasn’t sure what she was doing, so I just kept talking at her. And she turned around [with a hanger wrapped around her head and a perfectly serious face] and just said “oh yeah, I’m sure that was really hard, yeah…”.
To this day, when I get all hung up in my stuff, I think back to my little hanger head roommate and I realize that when we think everything is falling apart and nothing’s going to get better, there’s always something somewhere that will make us smile – and sometimes it’s just right in front of us.
Make the most of what is right in front of you.
Wealth, Success and Love
The other day in karate class, our sensei (instructor) began by explaining that 2012 is the Year of the Dragon. A year of wealth and financial prosperity. “So none of us need to worry,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. He then proceeded to tell us a Zen story – one that I enjoyed so much that I want to share it with you.
There was a family of three that lived happily in the country in a small house. One day, as the woman who lived there was out and about, she noticed three very old men with long white beards sitting on the side of the road. Sensing they needed care, she invited them back to her home.
When they arrived, her husband was curious about what was going on. “Who are these men?” he asked her. “What are their names?”
When the woman inquired, they shared that their names were “Wealth”, “Success” and “Love”.
Her husband agreed that they should welcome the old men into their home and tend to them. The men explained that only one of the three would be allowed to enter, and that the family had to decide which one to invite.
At that point, our sensei paused the story and asked the class to discuss which one of the three we would have invited into our homes. As the group began to wonder which of the men looked like they needed the most care, he reminded us that Zen stories were about ancient principles and more metaphorical than literal. From that point, the discussion was lively.
Several indicated that they would not hesitate in asking Love in above all else. One person said, “Hey, the Beatles told us that’s really all you need.”
Another pointed out that any of the three would really be OK. “After all, wealth could be a wealth of health, money, love, whatever. And success is really about how you define it. So that could include love and money too.”
Still others felt that the family was happy before the men appeared and asked why they really needed to invite anyone in the house.
Someone else referenced that our sensei opened his discussion by indicating that this was the year of the Dragon – a point that must have some relevance to the answer he was looking for.
The discussion continued and the group finally arrived at the consensus that they would choose love. We gave our answer to our sensei and he told us the rest of the story.
The husband and wife talked it over. He felt they should invite Wealth, while she was leaning more toward inviting Success. From beyond the room, they heard the voice of their young daughter. Oh Mother and Father, invite Love!
The husband and wife looked at each other and decided to trust in the wisdom of their daughter. They turned to Love and said, we have decided that you should come into our house.
Upon hearing his answer, all three men began to applaud and cheer. The family was confused.
Love explained, “If you would have chosen Wealth or Success, only the one you invited would have been allowed to enter. But since you chose Love, all three of us can come in.”
Love. Inviting love into your home may not sound like such a stretch. How about into your workplace? How about into your job? What would it be like to live every part of your life with love being the first thing you invite in?
Love doesn’t pay the bills, you might think. Love doesn’t allow you to come out on top, you may have been conditioned to believe. What’s love got to do with it?
How about EVERYTHING? Look around. I don’t know about you, but I’ve begun to notice that there is a distinct difference between people who have made love a priority in their lives, and those who have chosen differently. It seems that people who have put wealth and success before love are often some of the most fearful, angry, defensive people around. And those who have put love first are the most generous, courageous, and fulfilled – regardless of what’s in their bank accounts.
And if the Zen story is true, perhaps with love, we can reach the highest and purest levels of wealth and success. The kind that is not fleeting. The kind that does not exclude. The kind that does not become depleted as it is shared, but rather multiplies and grows in strength, abundance and true power.
Wealth, Success and Love. Invite Love in, and the others will follow. Sounds good to me.
What do you think?
My family and I practice karate at the Center for Humane Living, a nonprofit organization whose vision is to inspire all people to live peaceful and compassionate lives while implementing a fully humanitarian agenda.
Photo credit: Graksi
The Real Meaning of Victory
Well, I made it through my karate belt test on Saturday. I actually really enjoyed my belt test. Yes, it’s true.
In last week’s blog post, Overcoming the Illusion of Fear, I wrote about the anxiety I experienced after my last karate belt test that led me to fear and dread the next one. And I also wrote about what helped me get into a mindset that would allow me to finally feel ready to stand in the fear and do the thing I was afraid of. If you would have asked me a year or two ago what victory would have been, I would have told you it was making it through the test without getting hit in the face. And I didn’t get hit in the face, but that’s not what I feel most victorious about.
You would have thought from reading last week’s article that the whole test was sparring and grappling. In fact, I’m told it only lasted a total of four minutes (though it feels like an eternity when you’re in it). The actual belt test in its entirety was five and a half hours long. Yes, that’s right – 95% of my anxiety and fear was about a four minute portion of a five and a half hour test, a fact that was pointed out to me and other karate students in class two days before the test. It was a startling realization. As I reflected on it, I became aware that it’s not the first time I’ve gotten so worked up over something that I poured more of my energy into worry and anxiety than anything else.
“I’ll feel so much better when that presentation is behind me.”
“I just want to get that project done so I can relax.”
“I won’t be able to enjoy myself until I have that dreaded conversation.”
Do you ever say things like that to yourself? Check the box, and then feel grateful for having checked another box. The trouble with that mentality is that it leads us to withdraw ourselves from the very things that we need to be most present for. We get so attached to the outcomes that we cheat ourselves of the experiences and the real gifts they offer. Sure they’re uncomfortable. Of course we look forward to having them over with. But the real victory is not in winning the trophy, it’s in having played our best game. And to do that, we must be fully present – while the game is being played.
We can prepare all we want. We can rehearse. We can plan and practice. And all of that is good. But really, the outcome of any of these things that spin us into a frenzy is directly linked to what we do during the experience itself. We have to detach ourselves from our plans and carefully rehearsed versions of whatever is about to unfold. Because the reality is that we can never fully anticipate what is about to happen. We need to be in the moment, tuning into the people we are with, the things that are being said and done and what we are being moved to do in response that may not have anything to do with what we rehearsed. We need to trust in that part of ourselves that will direct us in just the way we need to go in the moment.
The key benefit of practice and preparation is that we get our minds around the fact that we have everything we need to rise up to any challenge we will be confronted with. In short, we must believe in ourselves and our ability to respond to whatever is taking place even if we’ve never experienced it before.
Merriam Webster defines “victory” as 1: the overcoming of an enemy or antagonist, and 2: the achievement of mastery or success in a struggle or endeavor against odds or difficulties. The true enemy/antagonist in my battle was the part of me that didn’t believe I could handle the karate test, or any test for that matter – the one that just wanted to get it behind me so that I could go onto easier, more enjoyable things. This is the enemy that created the greatest odds and the most horrendous difficulties.
The biggest thing standing in the way of our ability to achieve whatever we endeavor to do is the part of us that keeps us believing we cannot pull it off. True mastery and success will occur for each one of us as we endeavor to rise up in the midst of this opposition and do what is ours to do. And as we do, we will create something we can be truly grateful for – the experience of discovering and unearthing that part of ourselves that can remain calm in the face of any opposition and access the best possible solution in the moment – any moment. This victory is the only kind that is lasting. And each victory of this kind builds on the one that came before.
A toast, to victory! And to every experience, for better or worse, that gives us the opportunity to truly experience it.
I would like to personally thank the Center for Humane Living and every person who is a part of it for enriching my life, and that of others in so many profound ways.
For more on achieving Victory:
The Pinocchio Principle: Becoming the Leader You Were Born to Be 
Checklist image by Rawich.
Jumping silhouette by Biansho.
Overcoming the Illusion of Fear
Almost exactly two years ago, I had a karate belt test that pushed me beyond my limits. I wrote an article called Tapping Your Reserves that captured what took place as well as the lessons I learned as a result. But reflecting back on that experience now, I realize that in the months that passed, I ended up learning more than I initially realized.
Here’s an excerpt of that article, depicting that experience:
Waiting outside the dojo adjusting my mouthpiece like a horse trying to acclimate to its first bit, I quietly prepared myself, breathing slowly and deeply. After my name was called, I was ushered into a circle of black belts standing around a plastic red padded floor until I stood face to face with my opponent – one of the toughest, most intense sensei’s I have encountered as a martial arts student. Our heads were swallowed up by the protective foam of our sparring gear, exposing only eyes, cheeks, noses and lips.
After bowing to each other, we began to spar. I threw a few of the punches I’d practiced every week in karate class and managed to get some kicks in. But for every strike I made, it seemed my sensei threw at least three more. I continued to circle, launching a few more tentative jabs here and there. The black belts surrounding us were shouting encouragement, their voices merging into chords of indistinguishable tones. And then I felt a sharp blow to my face. I instinctively curled toward my stomach and felt a burst of fluid that was not yet visible. When the blood appeared, the sparring session was stopped and a hand appeared with a wad of Kleenex in it.
As I cautiously dabbed at my nose and wiped my eyes, someone asked me if I wanted to continue. I heard myself say yes. Squinting through the sweat that was dripping from my forehead and feeling my heart beating in my face, I raised my gloved fists higher and took a few more shots. Before I knew it, I was taken to the ground. I was vaguely aware that there was at least one, maybe two other black belts in the sparring match now. As I grappled on the ground, fatigue set in. I struggled to escape the choke hold, forgetting everything I had learned and feeling like a spider’s prey wriggling and writhing to escape while the grip became tighter. And then, thankfully, that part of the test was over.
I wrote the Tapping Your Reserves article to process that experience and make the most of it. Ironically, despite the insights I gained, in the months that followed I found myself feeling far more fear about what happened than I did on the day that I got punched in the nose. The experience became exaggerated in my mind, a horribly warped version much like the image reflected by a fun house mirror. The sense of accomplishment I enjoyed after having completed the test was replaced by a fixation on what it felt like to be trapped with no recollection of how to escape. I felt the blow to my face over and over again as I replayed the events in my mind. And it was far more painful in my memory than it was in reality.
What is amusing to me is that often fear like this comes before an event – as I see in my mind’s eye all manner of things that could go wrong and then magnify it until it becomes a mental picture so horrid that I would do anything to avoid it. But this time, I was using a somewhat fictional account of an actual event to work myself into a frenzy that led me to avoid the future based on a past that was more imaginary than real. After all, when given the choice on the day of the test, I decided to jump back in and keep going after getting hit. My hesitance about the whole thing didn’t really set in until after it was over.
As my kids’ team practices and dance rehearsals began to conflict with karate classes, I was secretly a little grateful that shuttling them from school to field to court to studio prevented me from attending with the regularity I once did. God forbid I would be asked to test again – to spar again. No, not an experience I was eager to repeat. Every time anyone referenced sparring in karate class, I felt a shudder go down my spine. The idea of even putting protective gear on made me nauseous. I became overly concerned with playing safe – doing whatever I could to avoid getting hit again. But I knew at some point I would need to get over it and get back in the game.
Gradually I got tired of being scared, of holding myself back, of playing in the shadows. I was still afraid, but found myself growing more and more eager to face those fears and step into them. I began to pay careful attention in the strategy sessions that were being offered. I started to envision a different scenario than the one I was previously playing out in my head. And I even attended a special open sparring class just so that I could put myself in the experience of facing an opponent and replacing my fear with the tiniest shred of confidence I could muster.
A few weeks ago, I received an invitation to test again. I accepted. The test is this Saturday.
I’m nervous. I’d like to be a little more prepared, and I realize that no matter how much I practice, the fear will still be there. But I don’t need to give into it. I just need to stand in its presence without letting it grip and control me. And I think no matter what happens in this test – even if I get knocked out cold or do something incredibly embarrassing, I will be victorious. Because the real battle I am fighting is with myself. And it’s not just a sparring match. It is a metaphor for overcoming resistance (and the illusion it creates) that keeps me from doing what I really want to do in all areas of my life.
In the end, the pain of holding out and playing small became far greater than the physical pain I can recall from the event that provoked the fear in the first place – perhaps far greater than any fear my little mind can conjure up. Enough already. I’m ready to play.
Bring it on, baby.
“Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgment that something else is more important.” ~ Ambrose Redmoon
For more on Overcoming the Illusion of Fear:
The Pinocchio Principle: Becoming the Leader You Were Born to Be
Skiing Into (and Through) Fear
Surviving and Thriving in Change and Chaos
A Strategy for Overcoming Fear
Karate image by Kriss Szkurlatowski.
Fire head image by Salvatore Vuono.
My Personal Career Comeback
Have you ever had a career disappointment that shook you to your core? I did, and it was early in my career. When it first happened, I was bitter, frustrated and scared. But what I ended up learning from the experience was pivotal to my future. And to this day, I am still grateful.
I know many people out there are enduring all kinds of career shakeups and also know that I am always heartened to hear stories of people who were able to take fairly lousy situations and find a way to benefit from them. It is in this spirit that I share my story with you – (1) The Situation, (2) The Strategy, and (3) Lessons Learned. Please feel free to share your own experiences, advice or questions by clicking on “Add a Comment” above.
THE SITUATION:
My first job after college was at an advertising agency. Having yet to arrive at the realization of what I wanted to do with my life, I took the job because it had elements of what I studied in college: English, business and communication – and because it sounded fun and interesting. I started as an administrative assistant with the promise that it wouldn’t be long before I would be promoted into something a bit more substantive.
Turns out advertising just wasn’t my thing. The work itself didn’t pique much interest in me, but I was intrigued with the organization and the people in it. Turnover was high, morale was low, and the customer was an afterthought. I knew that all that could be changed – that something could be done to allow people to feel more alive in their jobs, to ensure that the customer was happy, that the company was growing and profitable. So I got to work talking to people. I interviewed smart, ambitious entry level personnel, who felt discouraged and overlooked when the jobs they were working toward were filled by people from outside of the company.
I talked to new creative staff and account executives who came in and hit the ground running, knowing little about the agency or its customer. I spoke with seasoned executives who lamented that no one seemed to care about what was most important anymore. I integrated all their insights, ideas and suggestions with my own observations and created a proposal to implement a program that would allow seasoned people to train and mentor newer folks, better integrate with the customer, and grow the business from within.
Knowing little about corporate politics, I went straight to the VP of Operations with my proposal to create the program and allow me to run it. He listened intently, asked several questions, and arranged subsequent meetings with others in the company. It wasn’t long before a position was created. My boss at the time, who wasn’t impressed with my lack of passion for being an administrative assistant or the fact that I went over her head with my proposal (which I never even told her I was working on) was outraged.
She called upon her networks to put a stop to things. A few days later I was told that while the company was going to create the position and launch the program I proposed, because of all the controversy, they could not allow me to head it up. I was crushed. I remember walking across the agency’s glossy floors and out the tall glass double doors of the building, burning with animosity, rage, and frustration at the seeming injustice of it all.
THE STRATEGY:
In the weeks that followed my indignant resignation, the anger and bitterness gradually released me from its grip and I began to feel a sense of calm clarity. I was onto something here. Maybe there was a way that I could work with corporations, organizations and people themselves to bring out their latent talent and harness it in a way that could contribute to a common goal. I went to the local bookstore and bought a copy of What Color is Your Parachute and dedicated myself to doing the soul searching exercises there and taking action to learn about work and potential opportunities that were more aligned with my core talents, interests and passions.
Somewhere in my search I discovered that in many corporations there was a department called organization development that employed people to do the kind of things I tried to do at the advertising agency, and more of the kind of work that truly excited and inspired me. I began to ask around and find people who actually did these jobs. Some of them were people that friends of mine knew. I began to interview them, asking about how they got started, what they loved and didn’t love so much about their jobs, and what advice they would have for someone like me who wanted to break into the field. At the end of every interview, I asked for the names and numbers of three more people they would recommend I speak with. I ended up building a pretty great network and it wasn’t long before one of the people I spoke with called me with an opportunity to do an internship at a local hospital in their organization development department.
I was thrilled and ended up learning the ropes from incredibly talented mentors who allowed me to take part in projects that were intriguing, challenging and incredibly rewarding. I was an intern for less than a year before I was offered a permanent position doing satisfying and empowering work I didn’t even realize was out there when I was scratching my head back in college trying to answer the question of what I wanted to do with my life. And each subsequent opportunity I have had has helped me further refine and hone what I love to do into a career that lights me up allows me to continue to grow and evolve.
LESSONS LEARNED:
Among the many things I learned from that experience are the following:
- That defining moment led me on a search that would allow me to find ways to do more of the work that beckoned to me. It launched a chain of events that has led me to learn more about myself and make the most of experiences that would further prepare me for the work that I do now. And I am grateful – so completely and utterly grateful – that it happened, though at the time I thought it was the worst possible thing.
- Sometimes the biggest disappointments are actually precursors to the most amazing opportunities. I learned not to allow my frustration, anger and sadness (even if it is justified) to blind me to what is knocking on my door. I learned to let myself be angry for a short period if I need to and then challenge myself to figure out what positive action to take to get closer to where I really want to be. I try to focus my energy and attention into moving toward something I want rather than away from something I don’t want.
- It’s okay if I don’t know exactly what I want to do with my life. This experience taught me that anything I do will prepare me for whatever I’ll do next. I may not know exactly the kind of work that is my best fit until I see what is out there and notice what excites me and what doesn’t. If I can find a way to love the job I’m in, I will benefit by learning more about myself and developing skills that I will be able to use anywhere I go.
- I realized that I don’t necessarily have to leave my job or the company I work for to do something that I love. If I pay attention to what intrigues me and take action to align my natural curiosities and talents with the unmet needs I see wherever I am, it’s possible that the solutions I propose could land me a whole new role – one that is custom designed for me, even when there are no jobs posted on the company’s internal job board.
- I learned the importance of being willing to take a risk and let go of needing my career to turn out exactly the way I think it should. Even though I initially thought the risk I took ended in failure when I didn’t get the position I helped create, it ended up opening my eyes to opportunities I didn’t even know existed. It prepared me for a career in an organization that was far more aligned with my interests and values.
Future photo by graur razvan ionut from FreeDigitalPhotos.net.
Light bulb photo by Pixomar from FreeDigitalPhotos.net.
Open mind photo by Idea go from FreeDigitalPhotos.net.
For more on Career Comebacks:
The Pinocchio Principle: Becoming the Leader You Were Born to Be
Skiing Into (and Through) Fear
Have you ever found yourself in a situation where you suddenly realized you were in way over your head? Maybe you weren’t sure you were ever going to get through it and had no idea what to do. This week’s video post is about an experience I had like that – on the ski slopes. It’s something I remember whenever I find myself in a jam, or consumed by fear or worry. I hope you enjoy it!
Here’s what I said in the video:
A few years ago I had the opportunity to go snow skiing, which I love to do and hadn’t done in years. I couldn’t wait to hit the slopes, and I knew I needed to start slowly because it had been a really long time. So I started off with easy runs and it wasn’t long before I said, “The heck with this, I’m going straight for the black run.”
I picked a run and got to the top of the hill. After pushing myself off and getting about a third of the way down I realized, “Oh my God, this is SO over my head!” There were moguls everywhere. I’m talking about three foot in diameter and about three foot high little hills — all next to each other.
To make things worse the slope of the hill was almost vertical. It was awful. I got about a third of the way down the hill and realized this was a mistake. I looked up and knew I couldn’t climb back to the top. And just at that moment this fog rolled in — fog so thick I felt like I could grab it and hold it in my hand. I couldn’t see more than three feet in front of me.
I panicked. All I wanted to do was get down the mountain. So I thought, “OK. I’m just going to go for it.” I pushed off and plop, came smacking down to the ground, skis flying in different directions. And then it took me 20 minutes to find them because I couldn’t see anything. I finally got my skis back on and tried it again and thwhap — same thing.
I thought, “I just have to figure this out from where I’m at.” I realized just about all I could see was the mogul in front of me and if I could just ski around the edge of the mogul and bend my legs in such a way that they absorbed the shock, I was able to get around that mogul and stop. Then I could look at the next mogul, ski around the edge of that and stop. I was making some progress. And then I looked down toward the end of the mountain and guess what? Totally wiped out again.
I realized, “If I’m ever going to make it down this mountain I’m going to have to forget about reaching the bottom and take one mogul at a time and trust that I’m going to know exactly what I need to know how to make it — one mogul at a time.”
What I learned from that is to get out of fear you can’t go back into the past, and you can’t get preoccupied with what needs to happen in the future. You have to stay right in the moment and take it one moment at a time. And when you do, you will have everything you need to get through it.
You have everything you need in this moment.
You’ll have everything you need in the next moment too.
BE where you are.
Mountain photo by Sarah Nicholl from Dreamstime.com.
Can You Take a Compliment?
Do you remember the last time someone gave you praise? Did you let their compliment land? Or did you feel the need to deflect it? This week’s video post was motivated by an observation I had about my own behavior and a surprising insight that came when I stopped to really think about it.
If you like it, pass it on. Tweet
Here’s what I said in the video:
I don’t deserve that. What’s this? This is SO not true. Oh, this isn’t for me – this is for her. What are you giving me this for? I don’t want that! I don’t deserve that.
You think I’m good? I’ll give you ten reasons why I’m not.
Do you have trouble taking a compliment? A lot of us do. You know, we were brought up to thinking that it’s not good to toot your own horn and that you shouldn’t draw attention to yourself. But the thing we don’t realize is that when we don’t take people’s compliments, we’re basically telling them that their opinions don’t matter. Telling them that what they think has little, if any, impact on us and that we really don’t care what they think. Most of us would hate to tell anybody that.
So, the next time someone gives you a compliment, realize, it’s a gift.
Good things are always coming your way. Are you willing to receive them?
Thumb photo by Craig Hill from Dreamstime.com.
On the Brink of Change
Are you at your wits end in your job, career, relationship, life in general? Experiencing delays, frustration, confusion, and even a little fear? Well, you might be closer to achieving something amazing than you think.
My last post, On the Verge of Transformation, featured an interview with a caterpillar. The above video continues the play by play in the life of a caterpillar, only this time from the inside of the cocoon (or chrysalis, if you want to be technically correct). I hope you enjoy it!
Here’s what I said in the video:
My daughter has this butterfly pavilion that we’ve been raising butterflies in. It’s been days since all the other chrysalises hatched. In fact, we let nine butterflies go out in the garden the other day. But there’s one that’s still in there, in its cocoon. We look at it every day hoping that we’ll catch it as its just emerging and it’s still in there.
I know it’s not dead because when I push on the side of the habitat, the chrysalis shakes gently, which is something that I learned they do to ward off predators. And, I can’t help but think how often we feel this way: we’re in this cocoon, there’s all kinds of change that’s happening, we’re not really sure which direction is up, and we’re the last one. For some of us, it takes longer than others.
If you’re feeling like you’re stuck in the cocoon, I think it’s probably very uncommon. And uncomfortable.
I read a story about a man who actually saw a butterfly trying to get out of the cocoon and used scissors to try to gently help the butterfly out. The butterfly fell out of the cocoon and it’s body was small and shriveled. It just kind of stumbled around on the ground and was finally just still.
What this man learned later was that to get out of the cocoon, the butterfly has to encounter the resistance. In the act of bumping up and busting out of the cocoon, the butterfly’s body fills up with fluid that it needs in order to spread its wings and be free and to turn into the beautiful creature that it is.
It’s such a great reminder to us that just when we feel things are at their darkest, and everything’s closing in and you just can’t take another minute of it — maybe that’s when we’re the closest to actually being ready to bust out. And maybe instead of thinking of all the resistance as overwhelming and exhausting, we can think of it as that final push we need to give in order to just break through into something wonderful that’s just been waiting for us.
For more on change and transformation:
The Pinocchio Principle: Becoming the Leader You Were Born to Be (book)
Busting Out of the Box (workshop)
On the Verge of Transformation
Taking Your Leap, Part I & Part II
Bridging the Gap Between No More and Not Yet
Crazy businessman picture by Stephane Durocher from Dreamstime.
