Maximized, appreciated, compensated

Reach toward the sunshine
and grab onto possibilities. 

I heard this line on Gretchen Rubin's Happier podcast this morning—something a pro football player said when asked why he changed teams: I want to be maximized, appreciated, and compensated. 

It's my new mantra. 

The prolific Irish playwright (and founder of the London School of Economics) George Bernard Shaw said, "I want to be thoroughly used up when I die, for the harder I work, the more I live. I rejoice in life for its own sake. Life is no 'brief candle' to me. It's sort of a splendid torch which I have a hold of for the moment and I want to make it burn as brightly as possible before handing it over to future generations." 

While I'm using the above mantra as I look to make a work change, it got me thinking about life in general and why knowing our worth and valuing ourselves is so important. So, some thoughts and questions for you to sit with: 

• life is short, fight for your dreams, and if you don't know what your dreams are, what lights you up? 
• don't settle; write that bucket list if you haven't already and start checking these off
• recognize when it's time to make a change because, at least during this incarnation, we only get one chance at this
• we all have unique gifts to share with the world; even if you don't know yours, or if it feels too modest, it's important
• regrets suck, so now's the time; what are you curious about? what do you want to explore, know, see, do, feel, experience before you die? 
• and if you're not sure if you can, or if you should, why not? and why NOT you? 

Take some time with these. Be honest. You're worth the time and consideration. 

As a coach I know often says, everything you want is on the other side of fear. So if that's what stops you, what's the impact of that? What's the payoff for staying safe?  

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 me here.

We're a little like Ikea furniture

Seen at Shilshole Marina as I walked
and contemplated my future... 

Never thought of yourself as a piece of Ikea furniture? Me either.  

This analogy apparently started on the Earn Your Happy podcast but I didn't hear it so I don't know which episode. I read it on a post in one of the coaching groups I'm part of where many of the participants share what they read or heard that day, which in turn helps the others in the group grow and expand.  

Small steps lead to big results

So much of what we want comes together in small increments. Especially the big stuff—those lofty ideals and the seemingly impossible. 

Those goals and dreams we have and work so hard to achieve are a lot like the tangle of pieces and parts that come in an Ikea box. The picture shows a finished piece of furniture, but seeing all those seemingly disparate parts can feel overwhelming. And putting them together? Nothing ever goes together exactly as it should, at least not the first time. The process can be extremely frustrating. 

Eventually, though, it does come together and everything makes sense. You finally have that thing you pictured. And ideally, there aren't any 'surplus' parts alongside your finished product. 

See it, be it

But it isn't done until it's done, and in life, sometimes it looks a little different than we envisioned. That's OK; it's hard to picture exactly what we want. Unlike Ikea, it has to unfold. In life, too, we often change our picture when we're mid-way through and have new information to work with and our picture gets broader and better, or more refined. It's often with hindsight that we see how all those parts came together to form a whole we couldn't have otherwise imagined. 

What matters is whether you have the right tools, commitment to at least a partial vision, a little direction, and infinite patience. Everything happens in the right time in the right way, which isn't always on our preferred timeline. We must know what we want and hold that vision or feeling, and allow it to unfold while taking the step in front of us.

And more than anything else, not necessarily true when putting an Ikea desk together, it's important to find joy in the process... because life can be very short, and ultimately, as we've all heard so many times, it's the journey, not the destination.  

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 me here.

Don't rely on willpower to get what you want

Getting this mimosa to grow from a
stick to a tree required the discipline of
regular water and patience. 

While standing at the bathroom mirror getting ready for work, the word discipline came to mind. 

I can't think of many words I despised more as a teenager. Not in the sense of being punished... although there was that, too. 

People who were disciplined were boring. I hated routine. I didn't care if I was late—to class, on homework, or if I didn't achieve the goals I set... I started out as an over-achiever (really, a people-pleaser), but by 7th grade, after a lot of personal loss, I became the classic underachiever. I was smart and got good grades but that didn't matter. I made myself graduate, but it required a valiant effort in my senior year (yes, discipline...).  

After high school, college required it. But I still didn't like it. Being disciplined had no meaning for me, even though something as simple as regularly watering my plants required a certain amount of it. I still didn't understand the connection between discipline and achieving something because my underlying belief, as a kid, was "why bother." Goals? What goals? 

I also learned as a kid that life was hard. Yet, I'd heard it was supposed to be easy, too, so I had a huge disconnect. Life always felt hard—like walking uphill in concrete boots—but I wanted it to be easy.  

It wasn't until about 10 years ago I realized that "life just is"—there's no hard or easy, just our own perception and what we do with it. 

Rituals make life easier 

Discipline is inherent in our rituals. Call it routine or habit, we create rituals to ease our way; if we're disciplined about them, morning rituals make that hour before work flow more smoothly. Creating those rituals—those habits that serve our dreams and desires—keeps us on track, and for me, on time.  

Now I understand that discipline is necessary to accomplish something, and I know being disciplined, at least much of the time, makes life better. 

Do hard things

Discipline requires commitment, which requires a bit of mental and emotional toughness. Any goal worthy of reaching (and if it isn't, why set it?) is worthy of applying discipline. 

Several coaches I read or listen to talk about doing the hard things, something I'd have balked at when I was younger. But it's true. If we want to be healthy and wealthy in old age, it makes sense to do what feels hard when we're young—eat right, don't over-consume, exercise, save or invest... Those hard things become easier if we're disciplined about them; then they serve our needs, the what we want and why we want it. Discipline makes it happen.  

Willpower vs discipline

Discipline isn't willpower. How many times have you made an excuse and said, "I don't have any willpower" about that second piece of chocolate cake, the shopping excursion (I could use more discipline here...), or the third or fourth glass of wine. Willpower keeps us from taking responsibility; it's not our fault—we just don't have any willpower. We believe we either have it or we don't. And it's a lot about what we believe we deserve. 

Discipline is a choice. Discipline moves us forward, leads to achievement, and helps us accomplish more than we think possible—even if we don't believe we deserve it. Few of us are savants, so to achieve something, we must be disciplined about practice, whether playing sports, an instrument, even the lottery... Sometimes we must be disciplined about just getting through our day-to-day, as well as those lofty goals, like retiring early, traveling the world, or even finding a new job that's a step toward achieving these. 

Try changing your internal language and swap out willpower for discipline. Then get up in the morning and meditate when you want to sleep in. Write daily in a journal. Exercise and skip the sugary beverages. Connect with people when you'd rather isolate or watch TV. Discipline will keep you motivated when you feel like it's too hard. There's a reason to bother: life gets better. 

The magic of discipline

Discipline is something we develop; it's not something we're born with. It's building a muscle, or forming a habit. It's doing something consistently, for a reason you care about. If you miss a mark, you haven't failed; you get up and keep going. Forge ahead doing what you say you're going to do because you choose to.  

To create the life you want, discipline is essential. Start with small things, do the hard things, but just do them. And keep doing them. Soon, it'll be easier.  And you'll be celebrating successes. 

With discipline, nearly anything is possible. 

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 me here.

Are you interested or committed? Why it matters...

When you commit wholeheartedly, nearly everything is possible.  

The multitude of lilac suckers
in my garden suggest they're
fully committed to thriving. 

Don't believe me? When you successfully achieve a goal you set for yourself, or realize a dream you have, how did you accomplish it? Were you committed to the result you wanted, or merely interested?  

There's a clear distinction between the two. 

Knowing the difference matters. 

Whatever you want to do in life, choose it, claim it, and then commit to it. If you're only interested, the odds of getting it aren't in your favor. If there's something you really want to experience, accomplish, or achieve, you must commit. 

Commitment = accomplishment...

Commitment means you will accomplish the goal you've set or the dream you desire because you'll do whatever it takes to make it happen, no matter how slow or how many obstacles show up to derail you. It's an investment of time, resources, energy... you're all in. 

For example, I'm interested in:

• Being more fit and exercising regularly so I have more energy 
• Improving my overall health by not eating sugary things
• Getting bad habits in check by re-doing a Whole30 reset
• Having greater resources in the bank by spending less and saving more

Am I doing what I must to achieve these? Partly. Recognizing as I write this, I've set goals and intentions, but clearly I'm not fully committed to doing all it takes to achieve them. There are too many shiny objects, too many squirrels, too many opportunities to eat badly and do things that don't align with what I say I want. I see progress, but based on my actions and choices, I won't get the result I want, especially in my desired time frame.


It's not willpower... 

Willpower doesn't apply. Willpower is one of those words that sends me running in the other direction, like diet, where suddenly I'm famished and want to eat anything I can, especially the things I usually say no to. 

Determination and discipline, along with clarity about what you really want, are what it takes to get what you want. If you don't think you're disciplined, think about a time you've really wanted something. What did you do? What actions did you take?  

Cherry blossoms add beauty,
and return year after year,
but they don't have the
tenacity of lilacs.

Knowing whether you're committed or interested will tell you what's really important to you. 

How to tell the difference? Notice how motivated you are to do the thing in front of you that leads toward the result you want. Sometimes we look too far ahead (it's not the mountains ahead, but the rocks in your shoe...), and it all feels too hard. You don't feel capable, or you don't have the resources you need. Maybe it suddenly feels impossible, and the voice in your head says you can't. Some of us are afraid of failing, some, of succeeding, because even success has risks. If you're commitment-phobic, that doesn't serve you. You can always change your mind if you come across new information, or replace the goal or dream with something better. 

Energy conspires in your favor... 

I've also come to believe this: Once one is committed, providence moves on your behalf.

Rightly or wrongly attributed to philosophical author Goethe, once you commit to something—fully commit—I'm certain you'll find evidence for this. 

Hindsight being 20/20, I have proved this to myself again and again, often when it comes to career choices. And whether you believe in providence, a higher power, ether, energy, meta- or quantum physics... something out there makes it true. 

You don't have to believe me. Test it. Fully commit, know it, feel it, visualize the result you want, and take the step you see in front of you. What's yours to do? If you don't know, trust it'll reveal itself and do what shows up. It may take some time, and there may be two steps forward and one step back, but I'm certain that when you look back at some point in the future, you'll see how things have opened up to help you get where you want to go.  

I think I first heard this in Landmark Education's The Forum a lifetime ago, when I and all my workmates did this crazy thing together in Vancouver. Three days in a room filled with rules seemed over the top, but having spent that time together and learned the things we learned, we accomplished more than we expected during a year-long project bringing music and tourism to British Columbia. It was intense, but it was fun, and this, and a number of other learnings from that time, stuck with me. 

Test it!

What do you want to achieve today? This week? This year? In your lifetime? Are you interested or are you committed? Try it today—what will you commit to just for today? Like they say in 12-step programs, just for today is a great place to start. Just for today, commit to one thing to test the result. Be sure you're committed, though, and not just interested. 

Here's one to try if you're stuck. Today, commit to loving yourself fully. What would that look like? Do you feed your body the fuel it needs to function or do you feed your emotions for comfort? What's the result? Do you get outside and get some air and walk for exercise? Are your actions aligned with your goals and desires? Do you do the things you say are important to you? At the end of the day, what do you want to be able to say you did, felt, experienced? Claim it, commit to it, and see what happens.  

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.

10 years: On anniversaries, getting started, starting over, and now

Our garden path, today

This month marks 10 years since I first wrote in this space—full of hope, excitement, and commitment to this new journey of writing—and gardening. 

The beginning

Growing Things started as a gardening blog, when we launched a community garden in our yard through Urban Garden Share, an online matching service for gardeners and homeowners (you can read more about that in the 'about' sidebar). But it quickly became personal when, a few months later, my partner and I separated after 13 years together. 

That first year I wrote with fervid commitment—at first it was fun as we transformed the garden space, and then it became a place to share my challenges, my pain, to express, and be witnessed. The name "growing things" took on new meaning, and the garden became a metaphor. 

Backyard

After that, even though the garden thrived, the blog languished as work and life took over. Just over a year after separating, he and I got back together, and began putting the pieces of "us" together in a new, different, and ultimately better way. 

Starting over

With help from an extraordinary therapist, he and I learned to relate to each other differently, to talk with each other and hear each other while noticing and monitoring our own filters. We learned to call each other on our stuff, gently but clearly, and even laugh about it, too. We both learned we got in our own way, and it was the "I" in the relationship who could fix it, not the we. So we focused on ourselves, and became capable of moving forward independently and together—interdependent, as we learned to call it. 

In the years following that first year, I worked hard to find my voice, both here and in real life. To speak up, not withhold or wither, to know my worth, know my value. To understand that life just is, and continue to nurture new ways of thinking and being. I still struggle on occasion with these—with my own self-confidence and the limiting beliefs that linger in the background, threatening to unearth themselves and derail me. 

But overall, I wouldn't trade any of these experiences. I've learned to be comfortable being uncomfortable, to be more brave, and that without challenges and pain, my life would be very different, and far less satisfying. 

Recommitting

Together and separately, we have dreams, goals, and ideas, respect how each other interacts with the world, and know we both act with our best interests in mind—no longer in our own way, or that of each other. 

Early years

Since this online journal came to be, he's traveled the world by ship, I've had a couple different jobs, and thanks to life's constant insistence that we grow and not get complacent, we've had many opportunities to further our inward journeys. 

To say it's occasionally been a slog, well, yes. Yes it has. Nothing seems to move at the pace we'd prefer. We've had countless bumps, hills, roadblocks, potholes, and the occasional crater slow us down. His recent work injury is the latest crater, with a 9 - 18 month healing window and an inability to do much with his right arm due to intense shoulder pain. A few years ago, I was laid off when my employer re-organized and I nosedived into a confidence crisis. A few years earlier, he took a circuitous route to a career change that required more learning and growing. And within those 10 years, our three precious furkids all took turns going over the rainbow bridge and for the first time, we are without cats. 

"In the shade of the old apple tree,
there's a place just for you and for me... "

And here we are, 10 years later. I'm still writing. We're stronger together. The garden continued until two years ago, when we ended the relationship with the current garden partners and made plans to sell the property. That's one of those slow parts—two years later, the city is still backlogged and we haven't moved forward. While my heart will ache when we finally say goodbye—I have often said I'd miss the Gravenstein more than I'd miss the house I live in, the tree and the property require more time, money, and resources than I can give them. It's more complicated than I'll go into here, but the house and garden are on separate lots, and given circumstances, keeping the house makes more sense than keeping the garden. 

While I'd love to kick things into higher gear—his healing, his work goals, the property sale, my developing career and personal goals, travel plans—there's not much I'd change. I know that through pain, we grow, and without it, we wouldn't have joy. 

We have a lot of joy in our lives, and much to be grateful for—good friends both near and far, a warm and (mostly) comfortable home, nourishing food, overall health, our careers (and my job), cars that get us where we're going, and plenty of resources and tools when we need them. We've even hung onto some of those earliest gardeners who became our friends, and I'm so grateful they continue on this journey with us. 

Lush life: first year with Urban Garden Share.  Shiv, 
our neighbor, often sang mantras to the plants, saying it 
helped them grow. Together, we created something amazing.  

This year I recommitted to writing and for the most part, I've penned my thoughts about once a week. Some posts take longer than others, or morph in an unexpected direction, so which day they publish isn't guaranteed. But I have a lot more to say and share, hopefully with insights that help those who join me here. Stay tuned. 

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.