Locker room wisdom

To borrow from Gretchern Rubin, 
author of The Happiness Project, 
my reminder to Be Laura. Life works 
so much better when I get out of my head. 

"You have to recast it. You have to do it for the women and girls who come later."

Sarah and I were chatting in the locker room tonight about how women are conditioned or socialized to second guess ourselves, to somehow devalue ourselves, or otherwise feel and act 'less than' and hold ourselves back.

Prior to a recent job interview, she suggested I watch Amy Cuddy's TedTalk on shaping our confidence by adjusting our body language. Our stance can increase or decrease our testosterone and cortisol, which affect how we project confidence--in just two minutes! Sheryl Sandberg's Lean In also speaks to this, writing "fake it till you feel it" by assuming a high-power pose.

Sarah and I know each other only in passing, usually coming or going from the pool. Still, I'm glad to know her. Her advice was well-timed; I watched the talk and stood a little taller at my interview.

Tonight, I mentioned that I thought my interview went well. I genuinely liked everyone I met and how they conducted the interview process; I'm confident I'd not only excel in the job, but thrive, and I'd love to do it. It's a huge opportunity to make a difference, and I feel like I'm a good fit in every way. And, I have no way to gauge the outcome. I find myself fighting back old beliefs about self-worth, what I deserve, and projecting what others might think. It's time for a mental reboot.

Recast your story... 

Sarah's recasting her own story--for herself, her daughter, and those who come after. "I applied for an award, and I didn't think I'd get it. I told everyone I wouldn't get it. And I got it." I don't know what Sarah does for work; another frequent swimmer once mentioned she's a researcher at a local university. She wasn't going to apply; her coworkers encouraged her, saying if she couldn't do it for herself, she had to do it for others. For them. For those who come after. To make it easier or even possible.

What she said next makes so much sense: We'll do anything for others, especially those who may be at a disadvantage, like children or aging parents. We'll step out of what's comfortable, take a risk, speak out, speak up on their behalf.

So... here's the reframe: What if we take a risk on our own behalf because it paves the way for those who follow? If it's hard to do something for ourselves, can we find a way to do it because, ultimately, helping ourselves helps others, either directly or indirectly? It's a bit like the airplane mask analogy, or like paying forward, or living well by doing good. By recasting our inner dialogue so that taking a risk or speaking out on our own behalf benefits another, somehow it becomes easier, whether applying for an award, negotiating a salary increase, or lobbying for ourselves to land that just-right job. The playing field still isn't equal, but if we can put ourselves out there a little more each day, we'll get closer.


...and cast out old beliefs


I recognize those old beliefs no longer serve me, and I am recasting those, too. Casting them out, in fact. They are untrue stories, learned a lifetime ago. I am worthy and deserving, because I am. No more, no less. Hands on hips, head held high, eyes ahead, I've got this. I get it. I'm on it.


Addendum: This post was written prior to the released Trump tape that he described as "locker room talk". I do have a few things to say about that, but I'll save that for later. 

Are you listening?

I awoke the other morning with a booming voice -- not mine -- in my head:

"Are you listening to me?" 

Good question. 

Hmmm... 

... listening now. 

Breathing. 

I have been busy being busy. I have been doing, not being. Trying to fill the space, the void. Not listening. It all feels important, and likely is, at least somewhat. And my job right now is, in part, to listen. To pay attention. That's where the good stuff resides. 

Ambiguity. That's where I need to be right now. Clarity will come if I let it. I don't want the same, I want what's next, what's better. Dream. Create. Expand. 

Onward.  

Conversation, not knowing, and shifting gears

Spring hellebores - fresh, bright

Conversation. I am always amazed at the brilliance of just talking. That's part of what I love about coaching, but even through casual, random conversation, we can learn and see new possibilities. When we're connected, engaged and open-minded, things happen.

What comes from 'just talking' are awareness and clarity: new ideas, shared feelings, fresh thinking, and, for me, the understanding that we really are better together on this blue green planet.


New awareness

Right now, it's OK for me to not know what's next. I was reminded of this during a casual conversation while en route to a volunteer event.

With my job eliminated and no place to go each morning, my productive, corporate-trained brain is eager to be busy and feels anxious about what's next. I want to know where I'm headed, to be 'in action', to have a path, a next move.

Yet my creative, coach-trained, compassionate 'second' brain (that inner knowing, otherwise known as gut instinct) wants to slow down a little, shift gears, do something different, sit with, be with, see what bubbles to the surface. I am so much more than a cog in a corporate wheel; I have real gifts to offer the world, and I don't need 'a job' to do this. I'm in the fortunate place to not rush, to be able to explore, to sit with ambiguity.

How freeing to know I don't have to know. Even if I land another corporate role, I will do so mindfully.

Conversations are essential 

It's time for my introverted self to have more conversations. The fog that's enveloped me for weeks is finally lifting. The shift has begun and now I'm just curious to see what comes up. And... I don't have to know.

As my friend Sheryl asks in her email signature, quoting Mary Oliver, "Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?"

"...your one wild and precious life." Indeed.

I stated in an earlier post that my theme this year is 'invest' yet there's a place for 'wait and see'. What this means for me is being intentional about where, how and with whom I invest my time as I make space for what's next.

There is so much I don't know, so I'm staying open to something I may never have considered. There are many right answers, roads untraveled, and endless possibilities. I know countless people who have made big changes, as well as complete shifts, and are happier for it.

Tim Ferriss, author of The 4-Hour Workweek, suggests a person's level of success in life can often be measured by the number of uncomfortable conversations he or she is willing to have. Meaning, if you put yourself out there and talk with those you may seem unreachable, you may just find a connection and even an ally. So there's also that...

Lastly, from a lifetime-ago colleague, now life coach, in a recent email about looking back: If life only teaches you one thing, let it be that taking a passionate leap is always worth it.

Signs of new life: spring buds against a blue sky.

RIF: Closing a work life chapter

Truly, the only constant is change.

Shortly after my last blog post, I learned my job was eliminated and my work came to a sudden stop. Despite a premonition last spring, and a gut feel I wasn't able to shake for weeks, it's a little like hitting a brick wall at full speed; time shifts and I feel disoriented and disillusioned, as well as relieved and optimistic, all couched in a coat of anxiety.

"It's just business."

If I could change almost anything about the world of work, I'd start with changing some HR practices (as well as the name; human resources seems dated and inaccurate; what about employee services? or employee support? I digress...). Right now, my focus would be on how organizations facilitate change around something like this. It may be just business for an organization, but people's lives are affected.

I'm a lucky one; I'll be fine.

But major reductions happen regularly in the workplace, and I surmise they're more about budget than real, overarching strategy or change. Reports in all the business journals state that if you take care of people first -- be they employees or customers -- the bottom line improves. But I don't think most of our major organizations truly get that at a deep, transformational level. I hope I'm wrong.


"It's not performance..." 


Standard issue for a corporate reorganization these days is to ask employees to leave immediately, if not that hour, then that day. Performance isn't a factor, yet it still feels punitive and invalidating. I mentioned the layoff at a weekend dinner party, and those who'd experienced something similar said their first month following their last day felt like full-on PTSD, calling it wrong, disrespectful, and dehumanizing, despite severance packages and words of work well done.

Yep.

Here are my questions, not directed at anyone in particular as I think my boss and coworkers feel similarly, and I know without a doubt I did good work.

• What about trust? Until that fateful day, I was a trusted employee, coworker, friend. 
• What about closure? To wrapping up loose ends? Did none of my work matter? 
• How does this honor my contribution, my relationships, and even my coworkers? This affects them, too.

There's barely an acknowledgement, goodbyes, nor the fanfare afforded those who leave by choice, despite having worn the same "valued team member" label. No lunches, no cards, no group hugs. Even with transition support, an implied message is of wrong-doing.

Integrity is one of my top core values, along with loyalty and honesty, and right now my values feel impugned, and I feel a little betrayed, even though I know it's not personal. I think I would be much more OK with this if I'd been able to address those questions, to wrap up loose ends and respectfully exchange goodbyes.

I'm lucky, despite it all...  

Yet, I am not begrudging. I have many marketable skills, a solid network and a back-up plan (just in case). The "why me" question is a moot point (although I occasionally find myself asking it); it was time, it's complicated, and I don't need to address that here. I was and am ready for change. I know that at a gut level.   

I have much to be grateful for. I've grown personally and professionally in these nearly seven years in ways I couldn't have imagined. I have coworkers I care deeply about, and I trust we'll remain connected. I leave this job a very different person.

The world of work is changing, too, and I'm also ready for that. I have long believed that how we do business isn't the best for people nor planet, and the world is starting to reflect that belief even more. For now, I aim to be comfortable sitting with ambiguity and listening deeply to my inner voice. I will take some time to regroup, pay attention, be still, write, read and be present.

And when I'm ready, my intention is to be mindful and strategic about where I'm headed, what I'm doing, how I'm doing it and who's with me. I want to spend time with those who've chosen to do things differently, who are marching to their own proverbial drummer.

Lastly, here's a Liz Ryan post from Forbes about what we all deserve from a job besides a paycheck -- something else I'll pay attention to. And who knows... maybe I'll create something entirely different.

And with that, I close this chapter.

Drinking my own kool-aid

Most of the time, I'm really there. I typically don't "struggle" anymore, although I have my moments, and I know we largely create what happens to us. I own that I'm responsible for my experience. Certainly, at least, for how I react or respond to my circumstances.

Sunset over Shilshole Bay and the Olympic Mountains -
this always makes me happy, and helps me remember that life is much, much
bigger than just me, and there's way more at play.

And then, there's today. Today, I feel less than, uninspired, frustrated, not very hopeful, and even irritated. Life feels a little hard. I'm not feeling very happy. 

So, it happens. 

It happens to all of us. But I'm not my feelings, and life just is. I trust the tools I've gathered and nurtured over the years will get me through this. I do know this too shall pass.

What I also know is when I feel like this, it's often because I'm sitting with some ambiguity and clarity is not forthcoming. Something is weighing... a choice or decision needs to be considered, I'm unsettled, I'm not ready to go there. I am feeling both physically and emotionally challenged. Typically, I've learned to be comfortable with being uncomfortable... I largely embrace change.  

And then, there's today. 

  

Today, I will sip my own kool-aid. I will try to keep "struggle" from my vocabulary and remember that life just is. I am in the fortunate position to largely make choices that support me. I will ponder and drink, even though right now it tastes a little bittersweet.