Full stop. Total reset.

Spring snow

Ever get to a point where you just need to stop and re-evaluate? Start fresh?

Yeah. Me, too. 

Spring officially arrived this week (though it doesn't really feel like it), and it seems like a great time for an overhaul. And, while some advise against changing more than one thing at once, I don't want to wait.

Nothing's wrong, but I want more. Not more "stuff" or more on my to do list, but more energy, more freedom, and more joy. I'm ready to shed those bad habits that keep me from what I say I want.

Those bad habits have consequences, like sluggishness, fatigue, digestion challenges, and weigh gain. My finances are looking up, thanks to a new job, but more debt than I'm comfortable with is a consequence of two years of less-than-optimal income, coupled with some lousy spending habits I cultivated growing up.

So in case my efforts help you, too, here's what I'm doing if you want to shake a few things up, too.

Less is more 

1. Credit card debt is my least favorite thing. Mom always said it's there when you need it, and I agree. I'm grateful I've had it when times were hard. And, the credit hangover is real. So I'm noticing my spending habits and reading about others who gained control over theirs. Here's my plan:

  
• Track spending. It's a terrible name, but the Numreceipt app does what I want it to do. Others like Mint are more complex. I don't need a budget tool; I just need to know where, when, and why I spend money (ahem... not always aligned with my values). This app lets me add random notes, such as whether it was retail therapy, 'entertainment', or an actual needed purchase, like groceries. I started tracking mid-February and I'm already spending more mindfully because I know I'll enter every cent I spend. (This is awareness building, not punitive, so I can't game my own system by not including it.)  
• Spend less. Canadian author Cait Flanders found herself in debt, too, and started a self-imposed year-long shopping ban. She documented her process in a blog, which led to her book, The Year of Less, which I bought and read in January. On March 1, I imposed my own shopping ban with only minor exceptions (groceries, replacing used-up personal products, and gifts; 'experiences' aren't shopping, noting it's easy for me to excuse vintage shopping as an experience or entertainment, when it's really just shopping and therefore not OK). This is also about spending time more wisely. Studies focused on end-of-life show we remember what, how, and with whom we spent time, not how much we had. My goal is really no mindless shopping, no 'rewards' for simple tasks, no emotional plugs. 
• Declutter. During her year of less, Cait also decluttered. Not in the style of Marie Kondo's Tidying Up, nor even A Year to Clear, an online DailyOm program I loosely did in 2016. I've attempted decluttering before, but in my heart I'm not a minimalist, even though I'm now ready for less. I also live in a small house with minimal storage space, which makes everything seem more cluttered. A key question she poses when evaluating what to keep: Did I buy this for me, the person I want to be, or who other people want me to be? This month, I filled about 20 grocery-sized bags of clothing and household items to re-home.
• Simplify. Courtney Carver's MS diagnosis was her wake-up call to start living differently. I hope most of us don't wait for a health crisis to change. Let's learn from her and others about how to simplify and pay attention to those things that matter most. In her book Soulful Simplicity, Courtney notes we're so busy being busy, and how that feeds our go-go-go more-more-more culture. She gives tips to set priorities and to ask ourselves better questions. And how to say no so we can say yes. Reading how she was eventually able to let go of sentimental items gives me faith I can do the same.   



Just some of the bags of stuff
to be re-homed.

In my younger years, I found the simplicity movement of the 60s or 70s intriguing, and still have my copies of Voluntary Simplicity and Your Money or Your Life. But we do things when we're ready, no matter how much we know. Clearly, I wasn't ready for a simple life (and, clearly, also not ready to give up those books).

Others offered expertise in the years that followed, and more come online every day. (I'd be remiss if I didn't mention the work of my friend John (Take Back Your Time.) One of the most intriguing right now is The Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning. Since both sides of my ancestral bloodline are Swedish, I can't pass this one up. But I'm not buying it yet. My intention for 2018 is "experiences over stuff" so instead, I have a list of what I want to buy. If I still want it 30 days later, I can buy it. This isn't so much about not buying; it's really about mindful spending of money and time.  

More is less

2. That sluggishness I mentioned? The weight gain? That wouldn't have anything to do with the (approx) cup of half-and-half in my coffee and tea every day, would it? Hmmm...

I'm not one for diets, be they trend, fad or otherwise. But I do believe the occasional reset with an elimination 'diet' can help. After trying to plan the process myself (how I've done this previously), I opted for Whole30, which is a 30-day reset. It does two things: 1) it removes the most likely culprits that offend our digestion or cause food addiction, which for many of us are grains, dairy, and all-things-sugar, and 2) it brings a new level of awareness to what, when, and how we eat. Today is Day 3, and so far, so good. I've relied on cream, cheese and yogurt for much of my daily sustenance, and for 30 days, I'm replacing these with greens, proteins, (non-dairy) fats, and a little fruit. Getting enough food can be a problem for many when starting down this path. Imagine that.

Say goodbye to old habits... 

Timing is everything, isn't it?

I'm now four months into a new job; I still have a learning curve but I know enough to get work done and I feel less like a deer in headlights. I have mental capacity to take on a personal challenge or two.

Over the last couple of years, while searching for the right work fit, I also did a lot of deep, self-reflective work, and added, rebuilt, or re-prioritized parts of my life that were important to me. I did some decluttering, knowing that less cluttered physical space can help with less cluttered mental and emotional space (something else The Year to Clear does), but didn't get very far, and still continued to shop more than I needed to.

And... 

"You have to do things you don't want to do so you can do things you want to do." - Soulful Simplicity

We know this. Exercise, anyone? Live a sedentary life and the odds for ill-health later only go up, right?

I wanted to change some habits, but I wasn't ready. Giving up long-held habits, like beliefs (in essence, mental habits), may trigger our reptilian brains to put up a fight, even when we want the change, or at least, the benefits of the change. Knowing what we want to be different, and knowing what we actually do by habit, comes first. We can't change what we think or do until we know we're doing it, and why we're doing it. That's why tracking something to notice the patterns and gaps can help.

For example, following a simple eating plan helps me see if I'm eating because I'm really hungry, or if I'm eating because something tastes good, or just because it's there (I do more of this than I thought I did). When habit, or in some cases muscle memory, kicks in with an unwanted behavior, I can "stop, notice, and redirect."


...Say hello to better living

Easing in with small steps can help build the mental and physical fortitude to make the bigger changes you want actually stick, like tracking (spending tracker), limiting options (Whole30), or replacing bad habits with good (ex.: when I quit smoking oh-so-long ago, I chose carrots as my tool -- I peeled, julienned, and twisted them in my fingers).

Here are a few practices that I also find helpful:

• Meditation. I use the Insight Timer app (free) almost daily for guided or timed meditation, and have for over a year. It has multiple benefits. 
• Practicing gratitude: I've mentioned in previous posts that a daily email to a gratitude partner helps me see all the good in my life, even on the roughest days. Before the gratitude partner, I used my journal for this.
• Morning pages: While not currently doing this, morning pages from Julia Cameron's The Artist's Way--three pages of stream of consciousness writing first thing in the morning--have helped immensely when I've struggled to resolve an issue. 
• Journal writing: A saving grace over the years; I wrote my first "dear diary" in fifth grade, and have continued off and on ever since.

What was that about exercise? 

Right... exercise is one of the best habits of all. Sadly, I don't currently have that habit, and am consistently inconsistent. My sporadic exercise has a little to do with time but more with energy; one of my desired outcomes of my 30-day elimination process is more energy. And, these feed each other: exercise can replace shopping--a walk through the 'hood or a park is preferred over a TJ Maxx treasure hunt, or adds quality time, like a walk with a friend.

One thing I'm grateful for is yet another opportunity to pay attention and be more intentional about how I live my daily life. Another truism we all know: The days are long but the years are short. Doing what's most important -- to you, not someone else -- is what's actually most important, for you, for me, and for the rest of us.

Have any tips for creating and sticking to a new habit? Or new habits you're so glad you have? I'd love to hear. 

Fine tuning, not improving

The self-help and self-improvement industries rake in money hand over fist, but lately the conversation about "improving" ourselves seems to be shifting. Good. Let's stop. Helping ourselves? Sure. Improving? Not so much.

As a coach, I see my clients as whole, complete, creative, and resourceful, and in 'new thought' spiritual teachings, we're all perfect as we are. What we consider "imperfections" are those unique character traits that make us different and special.


So--what if we just need fine tuning? 


Honestly, there's nothing wrong with us. Not really. We're human, and we're all different.

That doesn't mean we can't improve or develop skills, become better versions of ourselves, that we don't have more to learn, or explore whatever we're intrigued by. But that's not us.

We may see others as having something wrong with them, because they think differently, do differently, or believe differently than we do. But that doesn't mean it's true. And it doesn't mean they need improving, no matter how much we disagree with them.

Improving implies the need to fix, 

and fixing implies that something's broken. 

Bones break (those can be fixed...). Parts of us break down. Sometimes we say "I'm broken" to emphasize a point. Our hearts break, our spirit breaks. But most of us aren't actually broken. Being in pain isn't broken; it's a very real and important part of living. There's always possibility for something to be different, even when it feels impossible and we can't see it. We may have a belief to let go of or an old story still dictating our behaviors, but to shift these, we reprogram, unlearn, or create, not fix.

Maybe it's years of being advertised to that's turned me off to the word improved, with the endless introduction of new and improved versions of almost anything on our large and small screens, on supermarket shelves, and in our online shopping carts. Or maybe it's the underlying message that if you're working to improve yourself, you're not good enough as you are.

We don't need to be fixed. 

And telling ourselves that we do, reinforced by the words self-improvement, isn't very helpful, whether it comes from inside our heads as self-talk or from somewhere else.

We may have a few cracks, perhaps, like Japanese pottery. If that's the case, let's add some figurative gold filigree, and be a different, more complex version of ourselves. Let it change us in ways that embolden us and make us even more unique. Perfect as it was; perfect as it is. Who says a perceived imperfection isn't really perfect? It's all perception, right?

Who defines perfect in your world? 

As Leonard Cohen sang, the cracks are where the light shines through. We need those cracks, those things that set us apart from anyone else. Those cracks are like our emotional fingerprints, and they make us interesting.

I, for one, am sick of "improving" myself, something I spent my younger years doing because I never felt good enough; I often felt less than. We all have "stuff" we can work on. But improvement is a self-defeating concept. Embrace your idiosyncrasies, gain mastery over those things you're passionate about, and shed the old crap that holds you back. That's not "improvement" unless you want to define it that way. But I think there's a better description. The need to improve feels like we're motivated by something outside of us, like something we should do, not something we do because we want to-- something that comes from within.

I believe, over time, we become more of who we are, and who we're meant to be...

Ancient Gravenstein, continually
evolving to be more of what it's
meant to be.

...and as we age, in particular, and grow in experience, we gain a deeper confidence and wisdom, which also brings the gift of self-acceptance, with our perfect imperfection.

As we step more firmly into our own shoes (in my case, some might say many pairs.... but that's an aside), love--and like--yourself as you are. That doesn't mean you won't have things you want to change. But become that "more of" version. Evolve your language and use words that make you feel good. Continually fine tune, grow, and adapt. This is what makes life's challenges, hurdles, and joys far more fascinating and easier to maneuver. 

How much more can we give the world if we feel good about who we already are? How much more exciting is it to focus on something we want to do, explore, or learn, rather than doing something to improve ourselves?

Let's be part of that shifting conversation.

The depths of winter, and gratitude

Now over a year since I've posted here, what a year it was. Knowing that the only constant is change doesn't make a lot of change an easy experience. Not that change is easy; even desired change has it's challenges, and undesired change can be downright frightening, or at least, uncomfortable.

The Northwest is now in the depths of winter, but thankfully, the temperatures here don't compare to those back east. I count my blessings. In fact, our recent cold front came with gorgeous sunny days, so it's hard to complain. We had snow at Christmas -- a first in many years. Life stands more still when it snows, and everything grows quiet.

The first day of winter is bittersweet, with dreary winter weather a promise for the months ahead, but the days also grow longer and the nights become shorter. We won't notice this at first; the days still feel short, and when the skies are gray, it feels darker still. Sometimes, the weather is a reflection of my mood. Or my mood is a reflection? It's hard to tell which came first, but I know my moods are lighter when the skies are lighter.

Letting go of gloom, or... 

...gloomsday gratitude? :)

Today was a mixed bag of rain and gray skies, with a few sun breaks. I graciously and gratefully worked from home, in my cozy basement office, looking out at the evergreen flora. No makeup, no bra, sweats and slippers. Now that's a picture, and one I wouldn't post.

And, grateful is where it's at. When the gloom sets in, gratitude is a way out. Being in service to others is another, and the two are intertwined. Helping someone can be a reminder of all I have to be grateful for. For the many gifts I and so many in my world are fortunate to have. When doing for others isn't an option, though, I try to stop what I'm doing and remember all my good.

Nightmare, a younger version

Some days, my good is as simple as my statement above -- working from home, in comfort. I have a job. I have a home. How lucky am I? Not everyone can say that. I'm warm. I'm dry. I have more clothes than I can wear, more food than I can reasonably eat at one time. I have hot water and hot beverages.

Yes, 2017 was a year of change. We lost the last of our three cats, my precious white Nightmare, to cancer at just over 18. Lucky for him, he didn't know he was sick until the last week or so of his little life. He was a big presence, with paws that won't easily be filled. Forrest and I then escaped the emptiness with a cross-country drive, filling the void with landscapes.

Grand Canyon, cross-country drive

We saw family and friends, and explored destinations from Death Valley to New Orleans to the Gulf Coast. Forrest lost one of his oldest friends to suicide. I got a job, and then another job, meeting and working with amazing people. And I continued freelancing and coaching. We sailed to islands, hiked, and enjoyed a lot of togetherness that we no longer take for granted. I spent an entire week with 12 family members I only loosely know--but love--on a cruise ship to and from Alaska. And that's just part of it.

Hubbard Glacier, Alaska

I count my blessings. Every day, I write those things I'm grateful for and send them off to my gratitude partner to be witnessed. Sometimes I'm grateful for the lessons in the journey, those things I'm not proud of, the things that hurt, or anger, or give me pause. Sometimes, it's the little things -- I got through my day with no harm done. Every day, I give thanks I'm alive, I'm healthy, I have a partner who loves me, a home, family, people who care. I have learned a lot about myself over the last couple years, with un- and under-employment, and ongoing challenges. Strife is a good teacher. Even my birthday, which every year I have higher hopes for, is my opportunity to dive deep into the depths, and understand myself better. New insights, new awareness, more self-compassion.

Yes, gratitude. I'm so grateful to be here. So grateful to be able to write here. So grateful for the journey, even in the depths of winter.

Welcoming the new year

Creating a vision board is a good
physical reminder of what you intend
to create in the coming year.

New Year's Eve 2016. It's time to say goodbye to the old and welcome in the new year. For most, the annual ritual brings with it a bevy of traditions and high expectations.

Yet, very few celebrations live up to their promises. Resolutions are made to be broken. The year's dreams may have gone unrealized, or life showed up in ways unexpected. But that doesn't have to mean it was a bad year. What if it's up to our interpretation, and we can interpret it as good?

2016 was certainly an interesting year -- one that produced more challenges and discomfort than some of us are used to. We lost jobs while others lost loved ones, a few faced devastating illness, and a steady parade of beloved public figures -- musicians, artists, actors and authors, among them -- said goodbye to the mortal plane we've traveled together. Injustice throughout our country and the world seems extreme, with countless individuals, communities, and entire nations in crisis. Here in the states, we're about to make a hard right turn politically, ensuring even greater hardship for many. Yes, there are reasons to give in to worry, anger, or even fear.

And yet, there's a lot to be hopeful about.

New Year's Day ends five or six weeks of holiday frivolity and festivity; at the least, those weeks are a diversion from the norm. We interrupt our day-to-day programming and reconnect to the friends, family, rituals and traditions we care about during the darkest time of year (for those of us in the northern hemisphere), or find new meaning if the old familiar doesn't work anymore.

Pragmatically, the days that follow are really 
just a continuation of the year before. 

Idealistically, are they?

That first day of January symbolizes a fresh start. Some of us take time to reflect and look ahead. We clear the slate, make resolutions, change our minds, craft new plans, set goals, declare intentions, choose themes and keywords, and create tools like vision boards or mind maps to guide us as we go. We have hope for better times ahead.

What this tells me is we believe we have the power to create our circumstances, or at some level influence them. For this window of time, we're aware of where we have control and the inner power we possess to direct our own lives. We can choose how we want to be in the world, what we want more of, and express our desires and dreams.

If nothing else, we can choose our responses...

Life happens...

My word, or theme, for 2016 was invest, intending to actively invest in my financial future. To be smart about money. To change my relationship to it.

That wasn't exactly what showed up...

What showed up was losing my job, and instead of financial investment, I found myself investing in me. Hindsight being 20/20, it proved to be a good word, although the shift to this interpretation didn't happen overnight. It came to me slowly, after a number of false starts, breakdowns and breakthroughs, as I sought to explore and understand.

Those investments are now paying dividends, despite no steady paycheck. I invested time and energy in self-care, self-awareness, acceptance, forgiveness, letting go, mindful contribution, learning, and gratitude, and ultimately created new relationships and communities, identified what I deemed most important, learned how to allow, receive, and give differently, and found deeper connections and unrelenting trust.

Despite some anxious days and nights, it was worth every amount of effort; even anxiety has much to teach. Accepting what is and looking for good, I shifted my awareness, beliefs and my thinking, and through all this, experienced moments of bliss and and true joy. My list of what went right in 2016, as I reflect back, continues to grow. To all who were part of my process, I am extremely grateful.

And, all that said, there are many things I'm pretty over. I'm done with the self-doubt that showed up when my job went away. With the self-imposed limits that kept me small and disconnected from my full potential when I wanted to step into something bigger. With stories I learned along my journey that left me feeling 'less than' or disempowered. As I look out into our abundant universe, the collective 'we' continues to imagine, innovate, and create in more ways than anyone ever thought possible. Count me in.

So I have high hopes for 2017. I hope you do, too.

I recognize my good fortune -- I get to choose my experience every day. I can choose to wake up every morning and feel purposeful, joyful, gracious, connected, abundant, forgiving, grateful, healthy and empowered. I'd like to think the energy I create with this perspective contributes in a bigger way to the world around me, to making us all stronger and better.

As I remember that the point of power is in the present moment, and that small steps often lead to big leaps, no matter what happens outside of my control, I can make decisions that ripple into my future. We do, indeed, live in interesting times, and it takes all of us doing what we do best to make the world a better place. During the holiday break, I (finally) read Man's Search for Meaning -- an amazing story of the human spirit and what we're capable of. We all have the power to choose, no matter what.

My word, or theme, this year? I'm leaning toward imagine, as in, imagine the possibilities, or spaciousness and expansion. I want to nurture my imagination and daydream more to create the world I want to live in. And then, "be the change". Creating a vision for what's possible is always more powerful than replaying the past, or creating a future based on previous experience. I'm not looking for more of the same...

What about you? What do you do to usher in the new year? Do you have a word or theme?

A sampling from my vision board.
 It's a legendary year.
I have a great job that allows me to express my talents and abilities.
My blessings are unlimited and they fuel big ideas, have staying power,
and the good news just doesn't stop. I am mindful, yet expansive,
and I know doing the little things counts. I'm connected to collective wisdom,
making the world a better place.
Together we create a brighter tomorrow. 

Toolkit for living: gratitude and forgiveness

It's Thanksgiving week, and while in some ways it seems like the world is falling apart, there's much to be thankful for in my small piece of it. I often hear, you create what you focus on. If indeed that's true, it bodes well for all of us to focus on what's working, and what we want more of, although sometimes that's easier said than done.  


We have no blueprint for living...

...just good tools.

No matter how well we plan, or how clear our goals, we still just make it up, each one of us, every day. I have no doubt we all aim to do the best we can, and we make the best of the circumstances that shape and change us. Each day presents a new opportunity to start again.

Some schools of thought say we ask for these experiences before we take our mortal form, that we choose our families and the lessons we want to learn. Others say we're not given more than we can handle, or that it's the painful experiences from which we build more character. Still others say we create our circumstances, that everything we experience comes from our choices, even when those choices are unconscious.

We create what we focus on. 

While 'creating what we focus on' is not completely straightforward, good tools can make a difference. They help us get past those unconscious beliefs that direct our choices, or move us beyond our challenges.

Today I'm fretting because I don't always live up to my own moral code, although I do my best every day. Today, I regret a minor violation of integrity, one of my essential values. So, while I owned my stuff and 'fessed up, I am still spinning and beating myself up, temporarily forgetting all the good in my world.

This isn't what I want to focus on. So, how to move on? I have tools, new tools, that are better than my old tools to help me get off the hamster wheel in my head, and again focus on the good. I'm sharing them here so maybe they'll help you, too.


Gratitude

Writing a gratitude list has been a daily practice for some years now, but thanks to a class I'm taking, I've learned another way. I now have a 'gratitude partner', someone with whom I  exchange messages about all I'm grateful for each day. This is different than the journal entries I'm used to making, where I acknowledge just the good. This list includes anything that came up that had power or emotion around it. I reframe mine to see the lesson, but you don't have to. Just owning your experience and being grateful is enough.

Today I'm grateful for the awareness that my behavior, while unintentional, was less than stellar, and that I can do things differently in the future. 

The only rules: write what's meaningful, don't respond, just read and witness. This is really powerful and I invite you to try it.


Bless, Forgive, Release


My inner mean girl is much harder on me than anyone else. A recent workshop provided this new tool for letting go. So now, when that damned wheel in my head goes on overdrive and I'm berating myself, or if I feel angry, resentful, or frustrated with someone and I continue to spin,  I can say:

I bless you, I forgive you, I release you. 

Depending on the issue or the person, I may say it once, or a thousand times a day for weeks at a time. Say it anytime the feeling comes up until it weakens and dissipates. While it's always felt odd to me to say I bless something, because, well, who am I to bless anything... but why not? Especially if it works.

These are just two of my new tools for living, and in the short time I've used them, they've already made a difference.

Our greater good...  

These tools can and do apply to what's happening in our wider world. Those of us in the US who feel like things couldn't be worse, politically, have a lot of work to do in the years ahead, and we have to be clear headed and effective. Right now we're a nation divided, and we aren't looking for common ground. It feels too painful, too personal. And on some levels, it is personal. But this fight isn't just ours, individually. There are many of us, now more than ever, united in what we believe is right and just.

So what do we focus on? 

Anger and fear can be motivating, but they can also eat us alive from the inside out. I don't want to live in fear, nor always come from anger. I don't know if I can ever understand those who are so politically different, who spew rhetoric so hateful I feel physically ill, but I have to focus on where I can make a difference and what I can do, rather than what I can't. I have to trust that in the big scheme of things, we'll find a silver lining. We can't change what we can't see, and now, nothing is hidden. Perhaps it's some crazy blessing that we'll only understand in hindsight. Something I do know? Good prevails. Maybe not immediately. But always.

Truly, there's a lot to be thankful for. With gratitude and forgiveness, the impossible somehow becomes possible.

Credit for these new tools goes to Amazing Grace, a Center for Spiritual Living affiliate.

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. 

Stripped naked

I'm not sure who I am right now. Or who we are, collectively.

What if you scream and nobody hears? 

Yesterday, I dropped Forrest off at the airport, where he caught a plane to Singapore to meet a ship for an as-yet undetermined amount of time. He'll see ports in China, Korea, Sri Lanka and Pakistan. So that's one thing. He's my rock, my partner, my confidant, my playmate, my buddy. The good news is he's working. The bad news is he's away for a long period to do it. He's been home for over a year and right now, I feel like part of me is missing. This, too, will pass, but right now it's a void and I don't know which way is up. This is his career choice, we have shared goals, we've done this before, and I know I'll find my groove, but this is the first time he's left when I haven't had a place to go each weekday.

...feeling vulnerable

This morning, when I signed in to Washington Unemployment to make my weekly claim, I saw I missed last week with the newness of Forrest's pending departure, and I'll have to re-open my claim. Going to that site every week is hard enough; while I am grateful for benefits, anxiety takes hold each time I sign on. Re-opening my claim, with the possibility of having to contact them, raises that anxiety up a notch or three. And, those benefits? They don't last long in the big scheme of things, and I'm getting closer to my cut-off date, with not many job prospects. To say I'm a little uncomfortable might be an understatement. I have savings, but I'd rather not tap into them, a little bit of debt from both of us not working for a while, and frankly, I don't want to settle for just any job.

I'm not sure where I fit. I've never been your average corporate ladder-climber. Yet I have paid my dues in non-profit and I'm not sure that's where I want to be right now. I have laid the groundwork for good work: I have multiple resumes, tailored for companies, industries and job type, a cover letter that lands me interviews, solid references and people who say great things about me and my work, had coffee meetings and lunches, reached out by way of LinkedIn to people I know and countless people I don't but who do interesting work, attended networking and association meetings, sat with the unknown for internal guidance (not sure how this is working for me), and applied for jobs online.

That's a coupl'a things.

Then there's the rest of the world. It feels like it's falling apart. Do things have to fall apart to get better? There are schools of thought that say so.


...and yet, privilege... 


This morning, while scrolling through Facebook on the micro-screen of my phone, I read a post by our former county executive (a long-time elected official) and high-ranking national HUD representative, about what it means to be black, even here.

Despite my personal quandaries, I know I benefit from privilege, purely by luck of the draw. I am white, was born in a largely white city, live in a somewhat middle-class neighborhood, in the mostly progressive bubble of Cascadia. His post reminded me how vastly different my experience is. I have worked with people of varying ethnicities, many who are first generation immigrants from different countries, and I have befriended people who are culturally and racially different from me my entire life. So while I hear their stories, I am always astounded. If life sometimes feels hard for me, I can't imagine what it must be like to leave home every day wondering what fate -- or our failed processes and systems -- may have in store for you. Most white people don't understand privilege (some even deny it), or how they benefit. I'm not sure I do, either, because I can't walk in the shoes of those whose experience is so different -- but I do know it exists, and I understand that I benefit and it's not even a choice. I know I can say things like, "I don't want to settle for just any job" when so many don't have that option.

...still, there's bias... 

And, I am a woman. A blog post in my in-box this morning brought the recent Stanford rape case back to the foreground. The swimmer who got his hand slapped after being convicted makes me gag. I keep hoping things will change. There is so much more awareness now, and women are speaking out and banding together like never before against rape, assault, misogyny, and more, free to own their sexuality in ways I couldn't as a teen and young adult, and yet, this. Patriarchal culture is still alive and well.

Feeling small, but hopeful. 

I don't have answers. Our former police chief, Norm Stamper, has a new book that speaks to possibilities (read about it in this Crosscut article). Empathy and compassion are essential to changing who we are, individually and collectively. But do we have the will, the desire, to change? The willingness to own our fear? To acknowledge our perceptions might be wrong? To forfeit privilege and power? Even at work, at a micro-level, I witnessed how hard it was for people to let go of or even share privilege and power, to even acknowledge it exists. Brene Brown talks about 'hope' in Daring Greatly. I have hope. And I'm lucky to have that. Many don't.

But right now, I feel naked. Alone. Vulnerable. Unsure of next steps to help myself and to help the collective "us".  I want to be part of the solution. To make a difference for people and the planet. But I'm not sure what that is. How to bring more awareness and understanding to those who are afraid, feel powerless, when I feel afraid and powerless to even help myself some days. What I I know is I'm resilient, creative, and resourceful, and I'll find my way.

I just wish I had answers. For me, and for us.

In our differences we grow, in our sameness we connect. 

When a parent dies...

The life cycle of a yellow rose. 

Sometimes, life kicks you in the ass, makes you re-evaluate and re-assess, see things, people and places differently...

My father-in-law, Del, took his last breath just after midnight east coast time. My partner Forrest was there, along with other members of the family. Del was diagnosed with throat and lung cancer earlier this spring, but didn't share that news because he was caring for his long-time partner, Dotty, who had Alzheimer's and preceded him in death by just a few weeks.

Del and Forrest's mom Okay divorced when Forrest was just four-years-old. While he and his siblings spent their summers with their dad in the north Georgia mountains, as an adult, Forrest wasn't close to him, despite a solid resemblance, a shared countenance and caustic wit. Del wasn't much of a 'dad' to his first family, never really taking responsibility. When still married to their mom, they moved a lot, as Del was a prospector looking for gold from the deep southeast to northern Alaska. The family story goes: he finally found it in the tourists who pass through Helen, Georgia, the country's first gold rush town. There he opened Duke's Creek Mines, a gold and precious gem panning business, along with the adjacent Heidi Hotel. I met him on two occasions, one of which was a long weekend visit many years ago with several shared meals and conversations. It was clear he was a man of few words, significant intellect, strong opinions, good humor, and a resilience about him that makes his death at 71 seem implausible.

Death is a funny thing no matter who it is that passes from this mortal coil. Funny in that it's the only real constant other than change (even taxes can be evaded...) but yet, it's something most of us don't plan for, don't really talk about, nor even actually expect, for ourselves or others. The death of a parent is often, but not always, devastating. Yet no matter the circumstances, it's one of the more significant changes each of us will experience in our lives; with it comes a different level of complexity, especially if the relationship was complicated or after a lengthy illness.

I'm not presumptuous enough to think I understand someone else's experience, and I certainly can't know what Del's family will go through. But I do know the death of a parent changes us, even if the relationship is strained. We are different. It has the capacity to bring families closer together or sever ties. It can shift our priorities and show us what's important. Mostly, it tends to bring us up-close and personal with our own mortality, our own shortcomings, our own unmet desires and regrets. It can show us, and those close to us, parts of ourselves and each other that weren't previously visible -- like the tenderness Del showed Dot, and unfamiliar or long-denied or hidden feelings that bubble from below the surface.

When my mom died, time stopped. I felt like I had a tattoo that read "mom died" on my forehead, as if this was a rite of passage that had to be marked. In between waves of grief, there's shock (at least, for a death unexpected), which is a useful thing as there are immediate decisions to be made and a laundry list of things to do. It's after all the 'things that must be done' are behind us that the reality sets in and processing begins.

Unless you're firmly in denial and prone to stuffing feelings, that's where introspection really kicks in. I went through many of the grief stages (although I find the traditional definitions of each stage lacking): anger, denial, remorse, sadness, and finally came to acceptance, despite a lingering void. But what often isn't among those official stages about grieving is relief. With her death, my mom was released from her suffering and sadness.

Grief and the time it takes to move through it -- and we do move through -- is different for all of us, but it's something we'll all experience. And from the other side of loss, I know it's worth the journey. Painful experiences can suck beyond comprehension, and many of us try to avoid them, or at least, the feelings that accompany them.

Dive in...  

Without these challenging times, we'd never experience nor understand the full spectrum of love and joy, gain empathy, nor even enjoy those quiet moments of contentment. And I believe those who left their imprint -- good and bad -- are with us always, whether from a spiritual, soul connection or a practical, in-our-DNA perspective; they help us become our best selves, even if it's "don't do as I did".

Our parents give us life, and while the best of them give us tools for living and help us become healthy, functional adults, some of us get there despite our families. And that's OK. By the time we reach a certain age, no matter our upbringing, we can be grateful, thank them and even acknowledge them for their own shortcomings. We can embrace ourselves and cherish our relationships from a place of compassion, connection and love that we may not have been able to before, even as we pine for what might have been had those relationships been different. And with their transition from this earthly plane, we can take deeper meaning from the lessons they proffered, perhaps unwittingly, and honor them by living our own lives fully, and being present to our daily experience.

Del never knew what great kids he had. Every one of them is a talented, creative, funny and extremely capable adult. I don't know if he had the depth of understanding to feel that loss. That might be the saddest thing of all.

6 things not to say to a job seeker

Breathing space... 

Chances are, you know someone who's looking for a job. Don't we all? Gone are the days when someone stays at a job long enough to retire. And while many leave by choice, countless more leave when companies reorganize, restructure or downsize.

That's where I am, along with 300+ of my former coworkers. Our layoff -- 10 percent across the board -- took place over the better part of a year, so we're all in different stages of looking for work. And some jobs are easier to find than others. Many areas in tech are in demand here in the northwest, so if that's your gig, you're likely golden. But for some of us in tighter fields, it takes longer. I thought I'd have a job by now, four months into this, and while I've landed some interviews, I haven't yet landed a job.

Well-meaning, misguided... 

So does that mean I'm a slacker? Not doing enough? Not willing to pursue any job? You'd think so, based on some of the questions I've been asked or comments I've heard, even though I know they're well-meaning. So for those of you who have friends, family or acquaintances looking for work, here are a few tips of what to say and not say.

1. You haven't found a job yet? Well, no. This question implies the job seeker isn't doing enough, or isn't doing something 'right.' Better might be, "How's the job search coming?" "Anything I can do?" 
2. Are there other things you could do... / ...can you do something else... / ...have you thought about...? Well, yes, and I am broadening my scope. But resumes must be targeted to posted job descriptions, and updating every resume to reflect a tweak in direction takes time. And while I am always open to ideas, and it's possible I haven't thought of yours (and I appreciate your perspective), likely, by this point, I have. If I appear weary, I apologize. 
3. Can't you just get any job for now? Well, no. It doesn't work that way anymore. There was a time where a job seeker could peruse the 'help wanted' ads, see something that looked interesting, say, "I could do that" -- and potentially go get that job. I suppose a version of that still happens now, although I suspect it's not that quick and would happen through a network, not an ad where the job is posted and the company is ready to hire. But it begs the question, is it worth it? If you need work because having money coming in is imperative at that exact moment, then yes. That may mean you're working holiday retail, and there's nothing wrong with that. But that said, because there's so much competition for jobs, companies tend to hire those with the experience they need now. It could take just as much effort to get the job you don't really want.  
4. Have you tried (company x, hottest company around). Well, yes. And so has everyone else. I am one of countless others vying for few positions. I am optimistic and realistic. 
5. It's harder to find work when you get to be a certain age / over x age. If I hear this one more time, I might poke my eyes out. Or theirs. Whether or not there's truth to the age-related myth for job seekers, I don't want to perpetuate that in my thinking or actions. I am still very employable, with great skills and ideas, good energy, and wisdom and experience that take time to acquire, like good judgment. Sure, there are a lot of great applicants younger than me, but we all bring something different to the workplace, and as I've stated in a previous post, there's room for all of us out there. 
6. Isn't it great to have time off? Well, kind of. Except it really isn't time off. There's an ever-present anxiety about finding work. I have more sleepless nights than not. All those questions above? If you think we don't ask ourselves those same questions, think again. At some point, they all wander through the internal dialogue. Yes, I'm able to go grocery shopping, run errands, work out or have coffee with friends in the middle of the day, but as we've all heard, finding a job is a full-time job. And looking for work typically takes a lot of energy and effort, which can be physically, mentally and emotionally exhausting.  

Honestly, I want the right job, not just any job, so I aim to be strategic with my search. While the foundations of a search are the same (LinkedIn profile, resume, talk to people!), each of us has our own process we need to accept and honor. We spend a lot of time in our places of employment and finding the right culture and experience fit is essential. I don't want to find myself back in a job search within the next year because I settled. At least, not if I don't have to.

That's not to say I'm unwilling to stretch; I absolutely am. I do know I've succumbed unwittingly to the pattern: men apply when their skills match 30 percent of a job description; women apply with about an 80 percent match (these numbers may not be 100 percent accurate but they're close). Duly noted, and I'll work on this. 

Listen, empathize, connect

So if you want to help your job seeker friend / family member / acquaintance, here are some suggestions: 

• Listen and put on your empathy hat. If you haven't been in this position, you may not have a frame of reference, especially if you haven't been in this position in the last 10 or even five years. Much has changed for the job seeker. Don't judge if they haven't found work within what seems to you like a reasonable amount of time. Slackers are few and far between. Finding the right job takes time. 
• Offer contacts. Who do you know that might be helpful? We all know people who have jobs and work for companies of all types and sizes. Whether or not they're hiring, or in a position to hire, connections are what often land the job. While the 'hidden job market' is apparently a myth, having contacts in the right places at the right time can make the difference. The industry I work in is built around relationships. 
• Be mindful. Not everyone wants to work, or would be a good fit, for company x -- the one 'everyone' wants to work for. Don't be offended if the job seeker doesn't respond favorably to every suggestion or idea. However, if you know someone, or know someone who knows someone, conversations are always worth having. Make an introduction. 

A job seeker's work space

If you've heard other questions, comments or have suggestions to add, by all means please include them in the comments. 

Onward, to that next right job!

With gratitude, 

How does your garden grow?

Since this started as a gardening blog (oh, so long ago, it seems), there might be a few of you who want to see the state of things. So here are some recent pictures.

While this blog morphed into something completely different, the garden remains a constant and, at times, a saving grace. Forrest and I have met many amazing people -- some still friends now, even though they're no longer gardening -- through Urban Garden Share, including Diane and Michael, our current garden companions. They insist that gardening comes first, work second (so much to learn from them!).

What a gift to pick fresh produce for a dinner salad, or saute' some bitter greens, or taste the sweetest, freshest, pea from a vine. There's even some cat mint for the little white cat. Our soil is second to none, so I know we're taking care of our wee spot on the planet.