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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
Navigating Sudden Change
Ever notice that just when you get comfortable, life has a way of shaking things up? Some people seem to enjoy change more than others. Most of us prefer to be the ones doing the changing – it brings newness along with a sense of control – we are at the helms, steadfastly steering our ships. But imagine if you will, that a massive wave summoned by a hurricane has ripped the captain’s wheel right off the ship and you are left clinging to something that no longer has any power. The tighter you grip it, the less energy you have to deal with your circumstances in a way that will truly serve you (and everyone around you as well).
At times like these, we often pray for the storm to pass – for things to revert back to the way they were – or for a specific course of events that we believe would be life’s perfect solution. These solutions are based on what we think we know – which is largely a product of what we have already seen and experienced. And relying upon the patterns and strategies that worked for us in the past is often inadequate for our present and emerging challenges.
The world is changing and so are we.
We tend to strive for comfort and familiarity, even when what’s comfortable isn’t necessarily effective or even satisfying anymore. We wish and pray that the chaos be removed and order be restored. But often life’s little disturbances are exactly what we need to reach our true potential and escape complacency. Perhaps as Eckhardt Tolle wrote in The Power of Now, “…what’s appears to be in the way IS the way.”
Stormy seas (and life’s sudden surprises) have a way of testing our resolve and our resiliency. Pressure brings out our extremes – for better or worse. And fear does funny things to people. At its worst, it produces panic – a physical state that literally disables the brain’s ability to think clearly. At one extreme a person is frozen by fear and at the other he will thrash about like a drowning victim who pulls his rescuers under the water with him. The key to surviving a seeming assault of this kind is learning to relax and stay calmly aware of our surroundings so that we can identify and creatively utilize the resources at our disposal.
One of the most critical resources in our control when all else seems beyond it is our perspective. The way in which we view things determines the story we tell ourselves about what’s happening, which directly influences the responses we will have. If we believe we are helpless victims at the mercy of something that seeks to destroy us, we will become bitter, resentful and apathetic. In this state our true power remains dormant. We collude with our view of reality to create a condition that validates our doomsday stories and sink even deeper into the abyss. Those who try to rescue us from our self imposed paralysis risk being dragged beneath the current created by our own negativity.
If, however, we view our predicaments as adventures and see them as opportunities to give things all we’ve got, we reach deeply within ourselves and tap reserves of courage, wisdom and ingenuity we never realized we had. In the proverbial belly of the whale we find our inner grit and creatively rise up to life’s challenges in ways that transform us and everyone around us as well. We become the heroes of our own stories.
Regardless of who you are and what you do, there will come a time when the plateau you have been walking upon takes a steep turn in one direction or the other and you will be required to do something that stretches you beyond your usual way of doing things.
Perhaps it will be in your career. The work that fulfilled you at one point in your life may no longer be enough. You might find yourself doing something very well but suddenly devoid of the gusto you once did it with. It could be the company you keep – people who at one time shared your interests and passions but who you suddenly find yourself no longer wanting to spend a lot of time with. Maybe it will be your lifestyle. The objects and material possessions you that once gave you joy could one day feel more like clutter or distractions. These things become like shells that the hermit crab has outgrown. The crab must release its previous home and step bravely and vulnerably into the unknown in order to find something more spacious.
The quest for a new shell and even the new shell itself may feel daunting, clumsy and overwhelming. But the act of letting go of the old to make room for the new allows us to evolve and realize our true potential. Anything less will ultimately become imprisoning. When we allow ourselves room to grow, life’s little and big disturbances are not so daunting. We know there is more to us than meets the eye and finally step into our own greatness. And as we do this for ourselves, we model the way for others to do the same.
The above article contains excerpts from my new book, The Pinocchio Principle: Becoming the Leader You Were Born to Be, available on Amazon.com and BarnesandNoble.com.
For more on Navigating Sudden Change:
Ship photo by 1971yes from Bigstock.com.
Hermit crab photo by porbital from FreeDigitalPhotos.net.
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.
Surviving and Thriving in Change and Chaos
What if the only thing standing in your way of perfect peace, true productivity and the satisfaction of living a life of purpose – was your thinking?
Many of us are experiencing a great deal of pressure, anxiety and sudden change. Jobs are tenuous, organizations are restructuring, and it might feel as though life itself is turning upside down. Frustration and turmoil is a common response to this kind of uncertainty and disorientation. It can lead to exhaustion and hopelessness. But consider this as you think about the things in your life and career that may feel as though they are spinning out of control…
What if everything is perfect just the way it is?
No, I haven’t gone off the deep end. Bear with me here… One of the key attributes embodied by extraordinary leaders in all walks of life is encapsulated in the word “responsibility” – not just in a moral or ethical sense of being accountable for our actions, but also – and perhaps just as essential in times of change and chaos – remembering that there is wisdom in recognizing that we have the ability to choose our response – and that the response we choose will have a resounding impact on ourselves and everyone around us.
The greatest of change agents start by recognizing what they have to work with before they can create change that will be sustained. They assess their environment to determine what the best entry point for that change is before they make their move. They don’t waste their time worrying about things that are truly out of their control, like changing the weather. Instead, they focus their attention and energy on those things that they do have the ability to influence and start there. The greatest of leaders know that the most powerful and sustainable change must start from within themselves.
The thing that fascinates me about a seemingly chaotic state of affairs is not so much what is happening, but the stories we are telling ourselves about what it means and the impact those stories are having on the way we are responding to it. When we react to things with fear, we end up amplifying that which we are afraid of and adding to the anxiety. Our fears drive us to act in ways that keep us from acting on our intuition and finding the answers that will truly serve us. Sometimes, we end up behaving in ways that make our fictional stories become real.
As an example, when you tell yourself a story about what is happening that leaves you feeling threatened, you may find yourself closing up and treating others with suspicion and mistrust. The way you are behaving toward people may well provoke a response in them that appears to validate your fearful story. However, in this scenario, it is very likely that their behavior is more of a reaction to the actions your story led you to take than anything else.
Our fearful stories are like the viruses we protect our computers from. These nasty viruses are often embedded in emails that pique our curiosity or rouse our fear. When we unwittingly activate them, they spread often uncontrollably and we risk passing them to the computer of our friends, associates and countless others. The viruses corrupt our systems until they no longer function effectively. Like computer viruses, our stories have a way of spinning us out of control and interfering with our ability to rise up to our challenges to find the opportunity that is always there waiting for us to discover and leverage it.
Our rational minds want answers and security. They need to figure everything out and almost automatically occupy themselves with trying to sort through data to arrive at conclusions. The problem is that our minds are plugging imaginary variables into the equation that end up further exacerbating the anxiety we are already experiencing. When they are done with one variable, they plug in another and the churning continues, leaving us with an uneasiness that keeps us on edge.
In the grip of this madness, sometimes the best thing you can do is indulge your mind with a variable that will allow it to do its thing. Go ahead and plug in the worst case scenario. If the worst possible thing happened, what would you do? Alloy yourself to sit with that question for awhile. Let the fear move through you and keep asking the question, what would I do that would allow everything to be OK? If you sit long enough with your question, you will arrive at some workable alternatives and reconnect with that part of yourself that is strong, resourceful and resilient.
Armed with the knowledge that you will be OK even if the worst possible thing happens, you can come back into the present and recognize your fearful thoughts for what they are – fearful thoughts. One of the best pieces of advice I ever got, which I pass along frequently is don’t believe everything you think.
In the present moment, devoid of your stories about variables that are truly unknown, you are OK. And when new events begin to unfold, if you stay in the moment and access your inner wisdom, you will know exactly what you need to do – or not to do – to be OK then too. And as you go about your daily life in this way, your calm resolve will permeate your interactions with others and through your example, you will help others to rise up to their challenges in ways that unearth the greatness in themselves as well.
The above article contains excerpts from my new book, The Pinocchio Principle: Becoming the Leader You Were Born to Be, available on Amazon.com and BarnesandNoble.com.
For more on Surviving and Thriving in Change and Chaos:
The Pinocchio Principle: Becoming the Leader You Were Born to Be
Finding Your Answer In the Midst of Chaos
Photo #1 by Kirill Zdorov from Dreamstime.com. Photo #2 by Valeriy Khromov from Dreamstime.com.
A New Way to Look at Fear
I went up to Prescott, AZ over Labor Day weekend with my mother and my young daughter. There was an art festival in the town square, so the place was dotted with people and their dogs, meandering from booth to booth, admiring the wares and taking it all in. White tents and tall, willowy trees sheltered artisans and their customers from the bright sun and intense heat.
There was a lot of jewelry, handmade signs with clever quotes, t-shirts for people and their dogs, hand crafted furniture, blankets, tablecloths, framed photography, bird houses. If you could think of something that could be artfully designed and hand crafted, there was probably a booth for it in the Prescott square last weekend.
Some of my favorite booths were the ones with food in them. Freshly dipped caramel apples rolled in peanuts or toffee, kettle corn popped in large copper drums, homemade tamales, chocolate dipped cheesecake. And, oh, the best freshly squeezed lemonade ever, made with generous portions of sugar and large juicy lemons whose rinds floated in the clear plastic dispensers.
I was standing in a rather long line for one of those lemonades when I became acutely aware of the presence of swarms of bees flying around me and everyone else, hovering over people’s cups and food, and even landing on shoulders, arms, and clothing. People squirmed in their shoes, swatted them away, and some ran out of the line altogether.
Look at all these bees! I said to my daughter. A low, gravelly voice from behind me rose above the clamor. “Don’t be afraid,” it said.
I turned to see an older man with a closely trimmed white beard and long white eyebrows. His eyes twinkled and dimples appeared below his cheeks as he smiled. I looked at him and smiled back. “Don’t be afraid,” he continued. “Bees only sting when they sense fear.” He rocked back and forth on his feet, with his fingers wrapped comfortably aroun
d the straps of his faded overalls. “It’s true!” He insisted.
Hmmn. What an interesting thought. Is it true? I don’t know. I wouldn’t doubt it.
It got me thinking about fear in general, and the correlation it often has with unfortunate circumstances. Fear is widely considered to be the effect of an unpleasant and often painful stimulus. But the cause?
Could it be true that fear itself brings about some of the unfortunate circumstances that we are often most afraid of?
I think it’s entirely possible. When we are afraid, we get consumed with thinking we need to protect ourselves, have the last word, save face. We become far more occupied with getting than giving. A fearful response is often an overly aggressive one – one that can create more problems than it solves, and one that might otherwise be deemed as unnecessary. We say and do things we later regret. We can panic and engage in irrational and even hurtful behavior. And we cut ourselves off from the wisdom and insights we would otherwise be able to tap to constructively resolve our differences and creatively rise up to our challenges. Our solutions tend to be half baked and often unsatisfying – as well as short lived.
But how do you override that somewhat instinctive and often knee jerk, fear filled response to what you believe could hurt you?
“Don’t be afraid,” the white haired man said. Easy for you to say, buddy. He obviously sees bees differently than I do, or at least have in the past.
And maybe that’s the answer. Maybe it’s about learning to see things differently. Maybe it’s about questioning what we’ve come to believe and learning a different response – one that is more grounded, centered, and thoughtful. Perhaps it’s about trying something we’ve never had the presence of mind to consider.
The woman behind the counter handed me my lemonade and a single bee came along for the ride. It followed us throughout the square, from booth to booth, hovering around the large waxy cup that contained the sweet, refreshing liquid we waited in line for over ten minutes to receive. At one point, it landed on my shirt sleeve. I felt my blood pressure rise and took a deep breath. What if I get stung? I tried not to think about it. It flew away and came back a few seconds later.
We couldn’t help ourselves. We shooed it away with our napkins. It kept flying back. We tried hard to stay brave and calm, but we kept our napkins unfurled and continued to flap them around whenever the bee got too close.
We made it home without any bee stings. But the wheels in my mind are still turning at the thought that perhaps there is a different response available in every fear filled situation – one that will gently reveal itself to us when we learn to reframe what we see in such a way that it is no longer a threat. Is it possible?
One thing is for sure: the next time I begin to feel that familiar rush of adrenaline, I’ll think back to that white-haired man in his frayed overalls, with a large grin on his face and a quiet wisdom in those sparkling eyes. “Don’t be afraid. They only sting when they sense fear.”
For more on Redefining Fear:
The Pinocchio Principle: Becoming the Leader You Were Born to Be
Finding Your Answer In the Midst of Chaos
Bee image by alle from BigstockPhoto.com.
An Easier Way to Find Your Way
Have you ever set a goal for yourself that left you feeling less than fulfilled when you actually achieved it?
Maybe it was a target you wanted to meet, a possession you longed to acquire, or a promotion you were hoping to receive. You kept your eye on the ball and hunkered down to do whatever it took to get there. When obstacles presented themselves, you busted through them and may have felt as though you were repeatedly banging your head against a wall. “The reward for your exhaustion would be the sweet taste of victory in the end,” you may have told yourself.
I did. And when I got to the top of the hill I was climbing I realized the mountain I was scaling was not mine, but someone else’s.
What if it didn’t have to be that hard?
Now, don’t get me wrong – I don’t expect to be carried around on a stretcher, nor would I want to be. But I do think it’s possible to enjoy the journey a little more. And if we didn’t insist on having to blaze the trail in front of us, we might find that off in the distance a lovely path is being revealed – if only we would stop long enough to pay attention.
When I take on new clients, they are often in the same state I have often found myself in. They have worked hard to get somewhere, but they know in their hearts there is something greater available to them. Perhaps they haven’t been getting the results they wanted, have been experiencing a great deal of stress or even burnout, or are just ready for a change. During times like these often the best thing we can do is not to speed up, but to slow down – way down.
If the path you’re running on isn’t getting you where you want to go, moving faster won’t do you any favors.
I have found over the years that the best leaders are not those who have all the answers, but rather those who ask the best questions. What are the possibilities? What are the opportunities? How are we uniquely positioned to make the most of them? In what ways can we leverage our strengths to rise up to our challenges? In asking such questions, these leaders bring to the surface answers, insights and knowledge people hold inside that allow great things to happen. Rather than imposing a vision on others, they allow it to develop collectively, with the knowledge that they can’t possibly see and accomplish everything singlehandedly.
Before these great leaders can do this for others, they must do it for themselves. So I challenge you (and myself as well) to focus on asking the important questions and to be still long enough to hear the answers.
In Native American cultures, young adults are sent on vision quests. These rituals involve sending the youth on a journey, packed with provisions that allow basic needs to be met. Instructions are simply to wander around and find a place that calls to them. Upon doing so, further direction is simply to sit and reflect. The belief behind this is that we do not necessarily need to actively find our vision. When we quiet ourselves and pay attention, our visions find us.
In our complex society, few of us have the time to go wander around the desert and sit for indefinite periods of time. So we need to make the time in our busy schedules to connect the dots. This may be a few minutes here and there. You may find yourself repeatedly daydreaming about something, or playfully entertaining an idea or possibility that will not allow itself to be dismissed.
These are critical pieces of information that, like pieces of a puzzle, will eventually come together to reveal a bigger picture. Pay attention to them, and do whatever is necessary to nurture and protect them. Capture these thoughts on paper or in your computer and add to them as new ideas continue to emerge. Some of these nuggets will become more valuable to you than others – like gold in the miner’s pan, they will begin to shine amongst the grains of sand.
Notice also the synchronicities that occur all around you that help make your visions real – chance encounters with people uniquely connected or qualified to help you, valuable information that effortlessly comes your way, and little serendipities that allow you to feel as though you are in the flow of something bigger than yourself. Chances are, you will be.
Enjoy the ride!
This article contains an exerpt from my new book The Pinocchio Principle: Becoming the Leader You Were Born to Be, available on Amazon.com and BarnesandNoble.com.
For more on Finding Your Way:
Deciphering Signs, Synchronicities and Meaningful Coincidences
In Search of Greatness: Finding Your Zone
Businessman picture by Nikola Hristovski from Dreamstime.com.
Jigsaw picture by Jasenka from Dreamstime.com.
Riding the Wave of Chaos
My kitchen looks like a bomb went off in it. Papers strewn over the counters amidst puddles of green smoothie remnants from this morning’s attempt to consume a healthy breakfast. A bottle of maple syrup with sticky liquid oozing from the cap into small droplets down the front of the label and onto the counter. Half eaten waffles on a paper plate sitting on the kitchen table. Last night’s dinner dishes still in the sink waiting for a bath.
School is back in session. No more lazy mornings letting the kids sleep in until they feel good and ready to emerge from their soft, cool sheets. Alarm clocks blazing. Pillows shielding their eyes from the sun as the cruel window shades open to the blinding light of the morning. ” Ten more minutes!”, they shout.
“Nope. Time to get up.”
I stumble into my home office to be greeted with a foul stench. One of the animals has found a convenient place to relieve herself. I locate the offending pile of poop on the floor right next to my hard drive. It is a bit runny. Probably from our cat, wildly jealous of the new kitten that has just learned to use the litter box the two of them will share (well, hopefully will share) at some point in the near future. I scoop the mess from the floor and carefully wipe down the cords, trying really hard not to hurl.
Lunches need to be prepared. Homework journals must be signed. Three kids need to be shuttled to two different schools. We have been catapulted back into a very segmented time regimen that we are just not quite in sync with yet.
8:03am. Time to pile into the car for the first trip out. We get halfway to our destination when my son realizes the report he has worked like a dog all weekend to complete is sitting in its shiny report binder on the coffee table. Cranking my steering wheel to make a U turn in heavy morning traffic, I can feel panic rising in my sweet young son. He knows he’ll be late on the first full week of school. His breathing is shallow. His shoulders are tight. His jaw is clenched.
I know that look. I’ve embodied that look. My heart goes out to him.
Where’s my coffee? I forgot to make myself a cup of coffee. I take a deep breath and try to calm my son. He doesn’t feel like chatting.
We ride in silence to the house. He springs from the car and bursts through the door with me on his heels. We are on a mission. We find the report and leap back into the car. When we reach the school, he slinks out, hangs his head and makes his way to class.
I breathe in and out. Gotta get home and shuttle the second group in now.
My daughter is sitting on the kitchen floor cleaning her white tennis shoes with a toothbrush. My son is at the computer playing his favorite video game. I silently pray that their backpacks are somewhere in the near vicinity, with all the important papers and folders inside. Fate smiles on me and they are good to go. My car drives on familiar tracks to their school, around the turnaround and through the drop off area. Hugs and kisses. The door closes. And I am free.
Except for the kitchen. And the fact that I have a meeting in thirty five minutes that I am not quite ready for.
WRITE! The voice inside my head is talking to me. WRITE NOW.
I think of the dishes. My hair needs brushing. And I’m not so sure about my wardrobe selection. I sit at the computer and place my hands on the keyboard. I begin to type.
What I realize now is that I have just stepped through chaos into a different zone. The wave came at me. It was high. It was strong. Powerful. But this morning I didn’t fight it. I let it take me for a ride. I remembered to breathe. And I’m still in the chaos.
I’ve had mornings like this where I ended up bruised and beaten, hurled onto the shore with arms flailing, trying to fight the wave and make everything happen the way I thought it should. I’ve crawled sputtering to the beach exhausted and worn out, all my energy spent rebelling against the unforeseen forces that thrust me unwillingly into chaos. But not today. Today, I feel good.
My heart goes out to my son. But I know that this is only one of a number of experiences he will have that will teach him something he’ll find useful at some point in his future. He may never realize how important it was or how it shaped him. He will likely have a few more of those mornings. And so will I. Gradually, he will make different choices. He will learn to breathe. He will learn to relax and take whatever comes to him with grace and determination. If he has enough of these experiences, he may even become unflappable.
Ride the wave. Even if it takes you under. You’ll come out on top eventually. Remember to breathe when you have the opportunity to come up for air.
And seize the moment to do whatever your gut tells you to. Even if at the time it seems like the craziest thing you could possibly think of.
My hair still needs brushing. But I’m more ready now for that morning meeting that I ever would have been if I hadn’t stopped to reflect, ponder, and WRITE.
The dishes will get done when it is time. The cat will poop where it will. And what I’m wearing isn’t nearly as important as how I feel. Hello new day. I’m here.
Today, I’m REALLY here.
For more on riding the wave of chaos:
The Pinocchio Principle: Becoming the Leader You Were Born to Be
Finding Your Answer In the Midst of Chaos
Wave picture by Kaz Sano from Dreamstime.com.
Unhatched
This week’s video post is a short and rather candid one. It was a Wednesday morning and my coach/videographer and I were preparing for a day of shooting videos. I was telling her about something that was bothering me and the fear that it brought about —and before I knew it, she hit the record button.
Since the topic of our conversation was the butterfly habitat that I have been blogging about for the last couple of weeks (see On the Verge of Transformation and On the Brink of Change), I thought perhaps it was fitting to go ahead and post this one too. Maybe it’ll strike a chord with you.
Here’s what I said in the video:
One thing that bothered me this week is the butterfly cocoon (chrysalis) that had yet to hatch never hatched. And I realized it’s not going to hatch. So I took it out to the garden and laid it there.
I didn’t realize how much it bothered me until one day I was running and all of a sudden this ball of emotion came out and I realized that what I am most afraid of is being the caterpillar in the cocoon that dies in the cocoon and never emerges — that has undergone a transformation but kept it so hidden that the world never gets to see that.
I feel all of this energy coming inside of me that I think is a result of taking the downtime and asking the questions, and working through my demons – and getting some clarity on needing to be a voice and needing to really help people and get out there and talk about this stuff that everyone is going through, but nobody seems to want to admit.
There’s part of it that’s guilt, like I don’t feel like I’m doing enough. And I was gripped by this intense moment of sadness that if I deny this call, I’m going to end up like that butterfly in the cocoon that never hatched. And, I think that would be the saddest thing in the world and so that was my prayer that day – “God please don’t let me die in the cocoon”.
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
Confused mind picture by ktsdesign from Bigstock Photo.
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.
