Being with what is

My mom, Anelda, 1960s. 

I have come to a place of peace in my life, despite circumstances. Or maybe because of circumstances. While our current reality is hard in many ways, it's not the hardest thing I've ever done.

I come to this place honestly—this place of peace and mindfulness, of relative comfort with uncertainty. Today I feel like writing a bit about my journey because I'm sad today—knowing this is a place I occasionally visit but don't stay.

Today is Mother's Day. 

I write this today for anyone who's ever felt alone. For those whose mothers are gone, for those who didn't have a mother figure in their lives, or for those with no children of their own.  

My mother left this mortal plane 20 years ago next week on May 19. While she had been ill for several years, she was maintaining and doing OK. We were getting into a new groove, as she'd recently moved into assisted living. So when I returned home from a morning run and got the call, I felt like I'd run into a wall. Hard. Not yet, it's too soon. 

In hindsight, I am proud of my mother for living as long as she did, despite dying at 64. The youngest of four children, she was unplanned—an accident—and felt unwanted throughout her life. When her oldest sister died at 48, my grandmother was inconsolable. My mother was never the same; now, she was also the recipient of my grandmother's spite.  

Family matters...  

Still in my formative years, with my aunt and grandfather gone, we moved into the family home to care for my grandmother, who was paralyzed on her left side from a stroke. She graciously died three years later, and despite an end to the misery, I found myself unhappy and alone. With mom working every day, and no adults around, I went from a well-mannered, thoughtful kid, to a rebellious, self-destructive teenager.  

My mom was a single mom when it wasn't socially accepted; my dad died when I was two, and I didn't know his family. My dad was the love of my mom's life, and I'm not sure that sentiment was returned. (By the way, today would also have been his birthday.)

My grandfather, Ben.
(mid-1920/30?)

During those earliest years, there were many family gatherings—no siblings, but grandparents, aunts, uncles, great aunts and uncles, first cousins, cousins of cousins, and cousins once and twice removed. Holidays and harvests and many family funerals—funerals which resulted in fewer and fewer family gatherings. 

From abandonment to independence 

So my friends became my family, for better or worse. I attracted those on the same destructive path. We were a generation with absent parents, latch-key kids. Hindsight being a brilliant teacher, I see the impacts, from an abandonment mindset that impacted my early marriage, to later self-reliance and fierce independence. 

We are both always, and never, alone

So today I write for those who feel alone. I understand. I felt alone for much of my life. I was alone for much of my life. I even made sure I was alone, unconsciously pushing away anyone who cared—just in case they planned to leave.    

I rarely feel alone now because I have learned to be here for myself, above all else. Because in the end, I'm all I've got, and I'm here for me. I spent my single years building my resilience, learning to love and care for myself.   

Now, I'm fortunate to be with a man who chose to grow with me, even with a rocky (and long-distance) start. We, too, have an important date this month: 24 years together on May 18. This wasn't a given. A therapist once said our wounds recognized each other. The odds were against us—to come together in a healthy, interdependent relationship was not expected nor even anticipated. And yet, what we created will endure, because (with help) we learned to care for ourselves so we can care for each other. 

We learn from our mothers, intentionally or not

I still miss my mom. Always. We didn't have the easiest relationship, and yet, we grew to appreciate each other. She did what she was able to given the resources she had, which were few. Throughout it all, it was always just the two of us... me and mom. I know she loved me. 

Growing up, I wanted a mother I could be proud of, and I am. I'm proud because she found a way to survive despite it all. She offered words of wisdom that, while seeming less than adequate as a kid, now serve me well, like trusting my instincts and using my better judgment. From her, I also learned resilience and determination. A therapist once asked if I was angry at her. I'm not, although I am sometimes sad. But mostly, I feel gratitude and compassion.  

To honor her, today and any day, I take care of myself, including giving myself grace. Because I know she wanted me to have a good life.

I write this today because we are each on a journey, and we do this alone. Finding our place and being OK with "alone" is essential. No matter who we have, or don't have, in our lives, we have to show up for ourselves. 

Life is a continual journey to grow and learn. Pain is part of it. But through it all, we get better, stronger, and more fully human. The more we accept ourselves and our path, the easier it becomes to change our minds, our beliefs, our experience, and ultimately our lives. 

As my mother said so frequently, this too shall pass. 



If you like this post or this blog resonates with you in any way, please feel free to subscribe (see right column), share it, comment below, or send me a message. I'm also available for one-on-one coaching—you can find me here. 

Find meaning and purpose: tips to get started

This gull lives and breathes its meaning
and purpose... 

For years, self-help advice said follow your passion. Thankfully, for those of us unclear about what that might actually be, there's another way to think about how to create a life we love (read this, or this).  

What we're learning now that's proving more important: bring passion to whatever we're doing, wherever we happen to be, rather than waiting to discover what we're passionate about or fretting about why we don't have one.  

After meeting our hierarchy of basic needs, what humans truly crave is autonomy, meaning, and purpose (so says Daniel Pink in Drive), not necessarily passion for something specific.  

I've always loved the phenomenally classic Auntie Mame quote, "Life is a banquet and most poor suckers are starving to death." I took it as a directive to bring passion to everything. 

Engaging with what we're doing, in the moment, has the potential to fill us with both meaning and passion. If nothing else, it makes life a lot more interesting. And, that said, our humanity sometimes works against us, though... we're hardwired to be cautious. So if you need some ideas to find more meaning and purpose, I've listed some ideas below.    

Follow your curiosity

What makes you go huh...? Or hmmm...? Clues come from what you're reading, listening to, or watching. What about those appeal to you? 

What or who do you want to know more about? Who or what do you envy? What would you study or where would you travel if means and time were available?  

Perhaps you're curious about brain science, like I am, but not willing or able to be a neuroscientist. If you're curious, you may have a latent talent for something related... I'll never be a neuroscientist, but I love coaching and how the latest research in brain science applies to personal development and human potential. 

Check your checkbook 

Our bank and credit card statements are insightful; they document what we care about. What do you buy, who or what do you donate to, and how are you entertained? Does how you spend your money align with your values?  

Perhaps you care about our warming planet. What do you eat? How do you shop? I used to be a mindless shopper, filling an emotional void, until I recognized the pattern. I also care deeply about my health, growing up in a family with numerous lifestyle conditions, so buying healthy food and supporting farm-to-table dining are ways I find meaning.    

Notice when you're angry   

Author, entrepreneur, and funder (and acquaintance) Nathalie Molina Nino wrote in her book  Leapfrog that we should forget about finding our passion and instead find something we want to punch. What makes us most angry may be great opportunities to explore: for work, new ventures, or volunteering.  

You'll also find big clues here about what's meaningful and purposeful for you.  

Test the waters 

When we find meaning and purpose, we find our passions—often right where we are. Fascinated by something, but never tried it? Test it. It's through doing that we build confidence, gain experience, get excited, and yes, find passion.  

Maybe you'd love to own a bakery one day; time disappears when you're baking cookies, bread, or specialty desserts. A bakery may not be feasible, but what gets you closer? These days, we have so many options, like starting a microbusiness using the magic of technology.  

Given today's economics, a side hustle is both easy and a good idea. If you need ideas or a how-to guide, Portland's world-traveling Chris Guillebeau is a go-to resource. 

The founder of Seattle's line-out-the-door Hot Cakes started selling that chocolate gooey goodness at the local farmers market. Now she has two brick-and-mortars and recently opened two vegan ice cream shops. They run themselves while she travels and surfs. 

Small steps are better than no steps. 

Know your why

Knowing why you're doing something can keep you on track when what you're doing feels hard. Not sure about your why? Ask why five or seven times until you get your answer.   

Simon Sinek's Start with Why is one of the most popular TEDTalks ever. And it makes sense... why you do something can make all the difference.

It matters 

A colleague recently suggested we should make 2020 the year of the side hustle. If nothing else, we'll add more meaning and purpose. We may make more money. We might just find our passion. And remember: Where focus goes, energy flows.

Meaning and purpose have staying power; passion sometimes fizzles. Man's Search for Meaning author Viktor Frankl believed meaning and purpose, not passion, were essential to survival, and if anyone could attest, he could.  



If you like this post or this blog resonates with you in any way, please feel free to subscribe (see right column), share it, comment below, or send me a message. I'm also available for one-on-one coaching—you can find me here. 

Things I want to punch

Intentionality: This bird gets it!

Forget passion. Instead, what do you want to punch, asks Leap Frog author and acquaintance Nathalie Molina Niño. She knows a thing or five about this. She has started, funded, or grown numerous companies, among other countless achievements. 

Her recently-published book is directed at women entrepreneurs, but it's a good question for all of us to think about if we want to make the world a better place, improve our own experience, or make a difference in some way. 

Do what you love? 

The huge focus of the last decade or so on following your passion or doing what you love makes sense for some, but not everyone is clear about what that is. Some of us never dreamed, and some have no time because we're working too much or caring for others. Even if we are clear, we may be clueless about how to prioritize it or, ideally, make a living at it. 

So instead, consider: What do you want to fix? What would you like to be different? What makes you mad? Getting clear on this might just lead you to uncover those beneath-the-surface passions. We don't need to be visionaries to change the world, start a business, or even find more satisfaction in our lives. What makes us mad could be enough. 

...we have endless opportunities

Molina Niño suggests we list the 10 things we want to punch. That's where the opportunities lie. Who can't come up with a list of 10? The book is filled with hacks for self-employment or for those who want to scale their business; it's also loaded with success stories that can be applied to life experiences outside of self-employment.  

Corporate culture is one of those things that's had my back up for most of my working life. I have long felt that corporate life is unhealthy—yet that's where I spend most of my days. I found evidence of that again just this week. 

Empowerment? Not so much... .

Here's (just) one of those things I'd like to punch. I had my annual review, an archaic process that ultimately exists for two reasons: a paper trail for performance issues, and compensation—what your pay should be. The implied or stated intent, however, is to help employees grow, improve, and stay focused on objectives. 

There are better ways... 

There wasn't anything wrong with my review. I do my work, and I do it well. But I find even good reviews undermine that intent because 1) someone else decides my worth, what I'm good at, and my 'growth opportunities' largely based on their bias and opinion (and of course, company needs, not mine), and 2) there are better ways to motivate and offer feedback. True, I gave them permission in exchange for a paycheck. If 'driving performance' to increase earnings is the organization's modus operandi, which, frankly, is true of nearly all corporations, there are better ways. Some of the larger Fortune 500 companies already know this and do it differently. 

Research shows that when we're able to live more purposefully and authentically, when we experience more satisfaction, we're actually more productive, at work or in life overall. Most of us already know what we do well, where we have room to grow, and at least have an inkling of what we want our life experience to be like. But we settle, often for the 'security' of a paycheck or because that's what we know. 

We don't have to.  

Ask why

An exercise during a recent online workshop asked us to find the 'why' behind the choices we make and actions we take. It asked us to go deeper than the traditional 'ask why five times' per the Lean process from which it derived, and instead ask seven times to find our ultimate intrinsic motivation. 

While I haven't gone that deep yet, one layer of my why is to help people change the way they experience work, and to humanize the workplace. I do this with some coaching clients, and to a lesser degree, in my communications role. But Nathalie's question, the deep dive into why, and my review, piqued my curiosity about how I might take this further. I don't have answers yet, but it feels worthy of exploring.  

Anger motivates 

Did you read my recent post about anger? Anger is information, and it's loaded with energy. Certainly there are more things I want to proverbially punch, and I'm sure you have a few, too. This is good—it means you can use that information to change the world for the better. 

We don't need to impact or influence thousands or even hundreds of people. One small change in ourselves, be it action step or mindset, also leads to change in our immediate sphere, and that leads to the butterfly effect that radiates outward and ultimately creates positive change in the world. We have more power than we think we do. 

Do what's yours to do

We don't have to want to change the world, but most of us have something in our lives we'd like to be different, whether at work, at home, or when we're out in the world, even among friends and family. 

We don't even have to know exactly what it is, or how to do it. What we must do is notice what isn't fair, isn't right, or doesn't work. As noted, even the smallest action can create big change. 

Know your value, know your worth. Then do what shows up in front of you—whether it's an idea, a cause, an action step—because it will. And if you know why it's important to you, you can't be stopped. 

So what makes you angry? What do you want to punch? 


If you like this post, or this blog resonates with you in any way, please feel free to share it, comment below, or send me a message. I'm also available for one-on-one coaching—you can find out more here.

Anger is an energy

Alone in the wilderness... or, well,
 in this case, on a beach. 

A few years ago, while talking about growing up, a life-long friend told me my anger scared her when we were teenagers. This caught me off guard; I had no idea. We met in elementary school; I was a lieutenant on the safety patrol and she was on my squad. From there, our lives became deeply intertwined; we know and understand our origin stories. And yet, her words made me think.  

As a teenager, I was small, smart, and cute, which didn't benefit me at that point in time and caused ire among my peers. So I was feisty; I had a mouth only sailors could love, and I was often in trouble with teachers for directing it at them.  

We learn to be angry... 

I learned how to be angry from my mom. That was her acceptable emotion, along with frustration. She yelled a lot, swore a lot, slammed doors, and threw things. Throughout our life together, I watched her vacillate between anger, frustration, and depression. Consequently, my teenage self yelled and swore a lot, and sometimes slammed doors and threw things (typically, just my hairbrush on bad hair days, though). Full transparency: I had a few good reasons to be angry. I just needed better ways to express it.  

I started my journey toward healthy expression in my early 20s, but it's an ongoing practice and I don't always get it right. As a newlywed, I yelled during an argument—and my husband's response taught me to quell my anger, even deny it. Instead, I withdrew rather than rocking the boat, which had its own unintended consequences.  

Now I'm rarely angry and I know anger is just one of many options. But it's also a useful one if we pay attention. It's a tool, a motivator. Or as John Lydon (nee Johnny Rotten) sang on Rise, it's an energy. It's information. 

Anger is often our quickest response in a heated interaction and can easily mask other emotions, like fear or hurt. Stopping in the moment, when we first feel angry, is a big step. What's it telling you? Stop, notice, and name it. Then choose how you want to respond to any given situation.  

I don't avoid conflict, but I stopped provoking controversy when I 'grew up.' That doesn't mean I don't express anger when I feel it, but I discovered my limitations around arguments. I sometimes struggle to follow a train of thought when emotions are high, and verbal communication can be challenging for me. That's why it's important to know I can stop. I also noticed in heated conversations with certain people that I can become overwhelmed and get flustered and acquiesce when they insist they're right. This also isn't OK, and I've learned to navigate those relationships more carefully.     

Communication, awareness, and boundaries 

Now, with a lot of deep work behind me and a high level of self-awareness, I have very clear boundaries, which makes setting limits easier. Anger isn't my immediate response.  

But here's something else: We typically have different boundaries for different relationships, and we're allowed to change and adjust them. We're also not required to tell people when we set new boundaries, especially if it puts us at risk in some way. Push-back is real. Sometimes, they don't know what's different, only that something is, and that's enough to cause a reaction.   

The trick, then, is to hold those new boundaries and not get sucked into old behaviors, and not get angry. I recently got tricked. Hence this post. 

Remember Charlie Brown and Lucy? 

I found myself in a situation where I expected a different result. I have a friend I regularly feel challenged by. I'm Charlie Brown, falling on my ass trying to kick a football that Lucy pulls away at the last minute. (Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice... what?!?) I decided I couldn't do that anymore, so I created some new boundaries for myself in that relationship. I didn't share that; I just showed up differently. And then... here I was... I did the same thing, again, and I said a thing or two in a conversation I didn't want to have... and got lambasted for all the ways I was wrong. Charlie Brown... I should know better. 

I was livid. But... this time, I didn't react. I didn't swear. I didn't cry. I noticed it. I stepped back to look at what just happened.  

Behind the reaction...  

The Landmark Education Forum asks you whether you want to be right or whether you want workability. I aim for workability, which is why I don't think all disconnects need to be discussed. I could very easily find myself saying hurtful things that don't help. 

So what happened... I felt like a caged cat, trapped, attacked even... which made me even less interested in further engaging. It wasn't pretty, so we hung up with neither of us in a good place. What I know for sure is that this cannot happen again. I refuse to again be Charlie Brown.   

Trust your insides... 

I have finely honed gut instincts, and I must listen to them. I can't second guess myself, nor must I explain my actions and choices, nor defend them in most circumstances.

I mentioned anger is information, and this particular experience enlightened me to a couple of things. 

• How I relate to my partner: I have a new appreciation for my partner's process when he's working through something. Now, when I ask him what's up when my spidey senses are buzzing and he says 'nothing' or 'it doesn't have anything to do with you', I have to trust him. I must also trust that if he does have something we need to talk about, he'll let me know.  
• What's important to me: I have more clarity about my values and boundaries, how I want to show up, and what I expect in relationships, friendships or otherwise. 

As with anything else, there are always gifts... that proverbial silver lining. This exchange prompted me to write on my bedroom mirror, where I see them sometimes multiple times a day, a few affirming statements:  

• take up space
• amplify my voice
• know my worth (an ongoing theme here)
• trust myself, and 
• take no shit

None of this is about making someone else wrong, or not loving them. What I find I need is to rethink my relationships, my needs, and my interactions—which right now, is taking back some space, and when I say "no," know that I mean no, especially when something is personal and not about them. 

Writing this, I feel less angry and more compassionate, for my friend and myself, even as I recognize I'm done with being Charlie Brown.  

Anger... it's useful. In this case, it caused me to pause and reflect, and then stand firm, know my worth, and resolve to set more limits.   

Let anger be your guide...

And, lastly, there's a lot to be angry about in the world... like oppression and inequity. That's where anger can be truly motivating. It's information and an energy. Use that. But don't let it consume you, and when you feel it, explore it.   

If you like this post, or this blog resonates with you in any way, please feel free to share it, comment below, or send me a message. I'm also available for one-on-one coaching—you can find out more here.