Be a better version of yourself in 2020

Just keep swimming... a phrase I
tell myself often, especially
when I want to give up (thanks to Dory
from Finding Nemo)

Are you exhausted or exhilarated as the new year begins? 

Holiday gatherings and celebrations can come with an endless to-do list, and perhaps a little too much sugar, rich food, and too many special drinks. 

Yet year-end also brings hope, an eagerness for change, and enthusiasm for newly set goals, resolutions, or intentions. It's a fresh start, when we reflect, assess, rethink, revisit, and dream about our future, even though realistically, we can do this at any time of year we choose. 

Intentionally choose... 

My intention this year is to be a better version of myself than I was last year and to put even better energy into the world. 

What did I learn, do, or experience that I want to take with me into this new year? What didn't I do that I want to recommit to or add? I've reflected on these for the last few weeks, a process which starts on my mid-December birthday and continues through mid-January with the holiday wind-down and more time to think. 

A phrase that popped into my head recently, and continues to show up: take nothing for granted. I don't think I do, but there it was. I'm not sure what it means for me yet, but I'll see how it evolves. 

A few other meaningful words, phrases, and thoughts I'm starting the year with: 

• everything I want lives on the other side of fear
• self-care is health-care
• see problems as projects, or a puzzle to continually solve (this is what makes life interesting)
• our shadow side has something to teach us; embrace it
• don't believe everything I think 

Marie Forleo's book, Everything is Figure-out-able, is one of the 30+ books I've told myself I want to read this year. Since I think I read just 10 last year, that's a big commitment. And, everything IS figure-out-able—whether figuring out how to read 30+ books in a year, or achieving the intentions I set for the year.  

Things to stop doing

Besides the list of goals and resolutions for 2020, we might want to also look at what to stop doing, or do differently. The Broken Brain podcast (#87 in case it's no longer on top when you come across this) has a great list of things that hold us back—those things that trip us up, that we should stop or think about differently. The list was useful, so here's my take on it: 

1. Stop obsessing about what others think of you; it's none of your business and doesn't help you, you'll never be all things to all people, nor should you want to be
2. Stop wasting time on social media; that's not to say don't use social media; it can be a great tool—just be mindful and use it wisely
3. Don't think you need to or should do everything by yourself; ask for help or support from friends (I have a lot of room for improvement here)
4. Don't blame anyone for your situation or circumstances; look within... whatever happened may not be your fault, but you're responsible for what you do next
5. Don't let life just happen to you, be intentional: what do you really want—today, tomorrow, next year, when you're 90? Set an intention the night before about what you want the next day to look/feel like (this is something I want to be better at)
6. Stop spending time with people who don't energize you, who drain you, or that you don't feel better about yourself when you're around them; many of our relationships are habitualized or obligatory... it's OK to say no and set boundaries, or just let go 
7. Reflect on what you consume intellectually; what content are you engaging with—books, film, news, online... do these make you better, inspire you, energize you, or do they give you anxiety, promote fear, or in some way make you feel less than
8. Stop living by other people's expectations or ideas of what you should do and who you should be; the top regrets of the dying are not living an authentic life and not choosing to be happier
9. Stop being hard on yourself, and give yourself some grace; perfect is the enemy of the good, and imperfect action, consistently, moves you forward

Don't let rain clouds stop you... behind
every cloud is sunshine and blue sky. 

So, what does 2020 look like for you? How can you be a better version of yourself? How can you keep on swimming, even when you don't feel like it, and take steps that move you in the direction you want to go? 

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. 

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.

If you can dream it...

Living the dream... 

Usually that's said with sarcasm. But isn't living the dream what we all want? 

And... most of us slog through our days, far from the dreams we assumed we'd achieve.  

What about you? Do you still have unfulfilled dreams?  

I'm a product of the 70s, and perhaps consequently, a sucker for a great guitar solo. But not just any guitar solo. I'd argue that the best of the best is Frank Zappa's Watermelon in Easter Hay from Joe's Garage. 

Before Frank launches into the solo, however, we hear from the Central Scrutinizer: 

Joe has just worked himself into an imaginary frenzy... 
He begins to feel depressed... he knows the end is near... 
He has realized at last that imaginary guitar notes and imaginary vocals exist only in the mind of the imaginer. 
And ultimately, who gives a fuck anyway???... 

My central scrutinizer, the one I call my inner mean girl, what some call their inner critic or gremlin, can stop me flat. 

Usually when we put our dreams aside, it's because life gets in the way, or we're afraid of what others might think, that we'll be judged, or that we're not good enough, not capable enough. We scrutinize our dreams, think they're ridiculous, or that we're ridiculous, and give them up, because, really, who gives a fuck anyway? There was a time when my "who gives a fuck" was "why bother... nobody cares... why should I care...?"


We're our own creative force... 

I go to a little spiritual center on the occasional Sunday, an affiliate of the Center for Spiritual Living and based on the principles of Science of Mind. This year's theme is built around the book, The 12 Conditions of a Miracle, about creating miracles in our everyday lives, and ultimately, about keeping dreams alive and making them real. 

I got goosebumps last Sunday when the guest singer, Michelle Chappel, sang another 70s classic, and my past, present and future collided into a jumbled bundle of emotion. I thought about dreams unrealized, maybe dreams never dreamed because I didn't know I could dream... but I also felt hopeful, about dreams now unfolding.  

Find your gold... 

What kid didn't want to win a golden ticket? Who doesn't want to win the proverbial gold? 

Hold your breath

Make a wish, count to three...

Take a look and you'll see
Into your imagination...

If you want to view paradise
Simply look around and view it
Anything you want to, do it
Wanna change the world?
There's nothing to it

There is no life I know
To compare with pure imagination
Living there, you'll be free
If you truly wish to be

Nothing like a kid in a candy store, except a kid in a magic candy factory. Talk about dreams! Pure Imagination, sung by Gene Wilder in the original Willy Wonka, is as magical and hopeful today as it was then. 

Mind candy...

We all have dreams. As I wrote this post, so many songs about dreams came to mind. Clearly, our dreams are important. They're in part what gives our lives meaning. Another favorite: The Impossible Dream from Man from La Mancha. Or how about this from Pinocchio? 

When you wish upon a star, makes no difference who you are... Anything your heart desires will come to you...

What do you wish for, long for, hope for? What do you still want to realize before you leave this mortal plane? Sometimes it's as simple, albeit not easy, as shifting perspective, of seeing what's in front of you in new light, feeling grateful for the good you do have, and making the connection to your dream. 

Sometimes, however, there might be very real actions you can take to start living those dreams. 

Now might be the time to check in and see what dreams are still worth pursuing, and then move that dream from the mind of the imaginer to your own real life. Create your own golden ticket by taking a step or two every day to make it happen. 

Because when the end is near, you're the only one you have to answer to. It's your life you'll look back on. You're the only one who has to give a fuck. 

Dream it. Do it. No regrets. 



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. 

Whose voice matters?

Whose voice do you give power to? 

When you have a decision to make, or you put yourself out there in some way, and you can't quite make the leap or get there on your own━maybe you're afraid to make a mistake, the unknown feels too risky, that you might look foolish, or you want some kind of approval or validation━how do you get clarity or find support?  Who do you go to for help? 

Many of us look to those we respect or care about━family, friends, mentors, etc.━but what if what they tell you doesn't ring true for you? What if you find yourself angry? What if you suddenly know they're wrong, and you're right? They probably mean well, but clearly, they didn't get it. They don't get "you" or what you want to undertake or achieve. 

Do you consider their input, take their advice, or just go for it anyway?  

"I hear the voices..."

Maybe you don't want anyone else's opinion... but there's still another voice that factors in━the ghosts of people and situations past. Those voices in our head (and not the "I hear the voices..." type) that influence our decisions: our parents, teachers, previous bosses, or a myriad of others who in some way influenced us or got under our skin (and into our psyches). These often evolve into our inner critic, the voice I sometimes call my "inner mean girl" when the voice tells me I'm an idiot, or that my ideas have no basis. 

These stem from something we heard or experienced in childhood━we took someone's opinion of us, a situation, or our ideas, and gave it meaning. We carry these 'stories' with us━usually always negative━unless we actively work to reprogram our self talk.  

It's all information... 

The voices of others, and those in our heads, can be looked at as information. We can choose whether or not to give them deeper meaning. They help us shape our thinking━we can decide if what they say makes sense, or if it doesn't fit with what we think or believe. 

Opinions are just that; if it's an informed opinion expressed by someone who's been where you want to go or done what you want to do, take what you need and leave the rest. So often, though, it's not informed, and in fact, may be ill-informed and have the potential to be detrimental to your decision-making. 

Too often I give the opinions of others or my own repetitive story far too much weight━outweighing my own innate wisdom, my inner intelligence, even my own knowledge.  


Check in with your insides... 


How do you know when it's not your own true voice, or if someone's opinion isn't in your best interest? Check in with your body. If the voice is in your head and not your gut. If the opinion causes self-doubt but doesn't feel true. If either makes you question your capability. 

What do you really want to do? Say? Think? Do that. I hear a clichéd, disingenuous "you do you" but really, that's exactly what you need to do. Do you. Listen to your heart, your guts. That's your soul talking. The part of you that has to live in this world and not regret your time here in the end. 

Sure, it's important to consider the impact of your actions on others and on real responsibilities, if there is, indeed, an impact, but that's not what this post is about.

The voices in your head or other's well-meaning opinions may help you make a more informed decision, but they're not the decider.  Only you know innately what's best for you. 

Do that. 

Your voice━your authentic, gut-level, inner-soul-knowing━is the voice that matters. 

When to say yes and when to say no

Lake Serene

Yes, I hear you. No, I don't agree. 

Yeah, no... Sometimes you need both yes and no at the same time. (And if you know me personally, you'll hear me say this frequently.)

The words are so simple, and yet, they're not. That's why I developed a few guiding principles about when to use each one.

1. When fear drives, say yes anyway. Years ago, during the throes of my divorce, I realized I'd been saying no a lot, and that I'd become afraid to do anything, After a late-night drive, I landed at the Blaine Harbor Marina, writing in my journal, crying and feeling sorry for myself. Light bulb moment: That wasn't how I wanted to live my life, nor how I saw myself. The pact I made with myself at that moment still stands. When fear calls, I say yes unless there's a good reason--not excuses--to say no. We've all heard about deathbed regreets--what they didn't do, not what they did. Life is short. Grab it! "Sure, I'll jump off a cliff; happy to," I said when friends planned a hang-gliding day in Rio. No regrets.

Caveat: Sometimes we're afraid for a reason, and we have to pay attention to our spidey senses. Listen to your guts. 

2. Commit to an absolute yes. How often do we say yes when we want to say no? We often confuse obligation with our need to be liked, approved of, or accepted. We want to be helpful or do the right thing--but the right thing might not be right for us. Sometimes, a yes is enabling; we deprive people of what they most need for their growth. So later, we regret that yes, when we're zapped of energy and resources. Food for thought: Unless you can answer with an absolute yes, say no.

3. No is a complete sentence. It's OK to say no without adding a why. This takes practice if you're not used to it. Say, "no, thank you." Or, "I decline." Or "thanks for offering, and no thank you." And be firm. We don't need a rationale. Women in particular do this because we learn early to justify ourselves. No, I'm not having kids. No, I'm not available. No, I'm not willing to do that. No, I'm not interested. Just no.

4. Say no to say yes. When we say no to one thing, we say yes to another. 

5. Yes, and... Of course, we all have real-life obligations where yes is a must no matter what--work and children often come with exceptions. Relationships require compromise and sacrifice. What's important is to pay attention and know why you're saying yes. That absolute is always worth considering.


Yeah, no, yeah... 

Forrest and I went for a hike on Sunday. I said yes because I knew I needed it. Was it an 'absolute yes'? No. It was a yes with trepidation. Fear. I was afraid I couldn't do it, might hurt myself, winter conditions, or... frankly, looking bad and being judged (my stuff...). 

And, I heard my self-talk and realized "no" was the wrong answer.

I love hiking in the offseason - there are fewer people and it's life-affirming. The brisk chill, the shades of green, shadows and panoramas, and ... quiet. But with a busy schedule, it's rare that I get more than a 500 ft elevation gain.

The frozen lake in the background

Kudos to those trail builders: the 2000 ft elevation gain was mostly switchbacks and rocks. After 2.5 hours, we hit snow, so we stood next to the frozen lake and ate our cheese sandwiches using the icy bench as a table, as avalanches fell steadily from Mt. Index.

So... what about yes, and what about no? 

Pay attention. Why say yes when we want to say no, and why don't we say no when it's for our greatest good?

We serve the world better when we take care of ourselves; being "nice" and doing "the right thing" isn't really the right thing. We have more to give when we truly mean yes, and when we really mean no. Fear can be our guide but we can't let it drive. It often keeps us playing safe, instead of living full, enriching lives. 

In 2019, make a pact with yourself to be deliberate about yes and no. Practice! You'll be happier, healthier, more energetic, and have more to give when it matters.

Wishing you a very good year!

Letter to my step-daughter

Well, this sure isn't an easy one to write, but it's been on my mind a long time. Here goes: 

Granted, it may be as many as 20 years since we've seen each other, and technically, you're not my step-daughter now. It's been more years than that since your dad and I split and you and I only saw each other a few times after that.

But that doesn't mean I haven't thought of you often. I have. You played a significant role in my life. You're 30-something now. Older than I was when we last saw each other.

So much water under that proverbial bridge.

You were eight when we met at the beach house in White Rock. Sandcastle weekend. Your dad and I reconnected the year before, and by then we were pretty enamored with each other. We'd met and dated briefly a few years earlier; we liked each other, but the distance was too much the first time around.

To be clear, there's more I could say than can or should be included in a blog post like this, but this feels like a necessary step.

It seemed like destiny.

When your dad and I got married, I was happy you were my step-daughter. I didn't have children, and you were funny, creative, sweet and smart. You lived with your mom but we liked spending time together, even though it wasn't often.

A lot happened during the years our lives were interconnected. But I want you to know that, despite all that proverbial water, you were family and I cared deeply for you. I still do, although to say I know you, or even know much about you, would be untrue. But I knew you during a formative time.

I'm glad we reconnected, even if just on Facebook (thanks for the friend request!). I'm sorry it was your loss that made it possible, but when I heard, I set aside previous hesitations to contact you, because I know what it's like to lose a mom too soon.

I was close to your age when I lost my mom. We were both too young to say goodbye; their lives were short. But I don't think the similarities stopped there. My relationship with my mom was complicated, despite how much we loved each other. That's why I sent a note to you...  I think yours was, too. And it tugged my heartstrings.

But even that isn't why I'm writing this.

There's this thing about completion...  

...about things unfinished. And I've felt unfinished with you. Early on, I felt sad, guilty, confused, concerned. Reconnecting brought some of that back up. I'm fortunate to have a life I'm truly grateful for, but there are things I've wanted to say, and never forgot.

The last time we saw each other was a year or two after you moved back to your mom's. You were living in Kamloops, so I drove up to visit you. You were busy with friends, though, as any self respecting 16-year-old would be, so we didn't have much time together. Instead I tagged along with your mom to the local bar, and left early the next day. I didn't try to contact you after that. I learned you moved back to your dad's after a couple years, and finished high school in the city. Reaching out really didn't make sense then.

That said, the point of this is...


...this post is about us, and that last year together.

Frankly, there were a lot of "shouldn't be's" during that year you lived with us. By then, you were 14 and looking for trouble--that's why you came to live with us. Ideally, you wouldn't find trouble, and trouble wouldn't find you, under the guidance of me and your dad.

Hindsight being that rear-view mirror, I saw later that it was pretty much a no-win for both you and me. Your dad was largely absent, working 16-hour days at least part of that year. I landed the role of stand-in guardian, rule-setter, school conduit, curfew enforcer, wicked step-mom, the bitch from hell... a few choice words you didn't shy away from saying. As the adult, I won't deny some of the accusations were earned; that's part of a parent's job, but... I wasn't your parent, and I overstepped (more on that later). You were rebellious, indignant and misbehaved, asserting your independence, no matter the conversations about honesty and consequences.

When you moved back to your mom's after the school year ended, our marriage went from bad to worse. While I would never say or believe you caused our break up, I'm certain that disastrous year, including my behavior, hastened it.

Those first years on my own required some intense soul searching on my part. I loved your dad. I thought we'd grow old together, together for life. I was devastated when I learned that wasn't to be; even on our last day together, he said he still loved me and we were family.

But neither of us had healthy role models for how to be in a relationship, nor how to parent. So I have a confession of sorts, and this wouldn't be worth writing if I wasn't completely honest...

First, I'm sorry. 

There were times I didn't show up as a skilled adult. I don't fault myself, but I'll own it.

So... 

At 14, terrible things happened to me. I wasn't fully aware of it then, but that history colored my experience with you. You were so grown up, or wanted to be, but you were still a kid. I was a child at 14, but I would have been really pissed off had anyone said that to me. You would have been, too. But your presence in such close proximity made me see my 14-year-old self as the child I was, not yet capable of adult decisions, nor the experience to understand consequences, and very much in need of boundaries and protection.

I'm not proud of my teenage self. Yet I have come to understand why I made the choices I did. Sometimes I'm sad about that. Unsupervised, I was a party girl, desperately looking for love and acceptance, afraid to say no, unaware that was even an option. I found myself in some precarious situations, some of which I couldn't get out of, some which caused me harm. There wasn't much I wouldn't do or try as I unconsciously sought that connection and affection. My friends were my family; you said the same of yours.

So, part of me wanted to protect you. Another part was scared--for you and for me. You reminded me of me. Except, by the time you hit your teens, the drugs were scarier, the consequences greater, and men and boys still dangerous. A lot of my friends didn't make it out; I was lucky. I didn't want anything bad to happen to you, or to me, or to us.

I wanted you to have a better experience. 

For much of our time together, I can say unequivocally I tried to be fair. Tried to tie actions with consequences. Tried to help you have a better life and give you tools and resources you weren't getting elsewhere. Tools and resources I hadn't had either, but in hindsight knew they'd have made a difference.

But it shouldn't have been me. 
That wasn't my job. 

Nothing worked. I felt threatened by your behavior and scared I could lose what I thought I had, and my actions reflected that. My early years were hard, but after many painful lessons, and a lot of self-reflection and conscious effort to do differently, I grew and changed. I felt like with your dad, I finally had something good.

I was afraid of losing that. 

After you went home, you got in trouble with your mom within a week, and your dad brought you back. I think that may have been my last straw. My coping skills disintegrated. My fear got the best of me. That year was a terrible time for all of us. I won't sugarcoat it; it challenged me on practically every level. That year -- and you -- left an imprint. I think I did a lot right, but I admit to being ashamed of my own behavior at times. Overall, I felt like I'd failed us both. I don't blame either of us. And I don't regret it. That year, our divorce, and what happened both before and after taught me more about myself, and relationships, that I couldn't learn any other way. I'm grateful for that.

But I've wondered about you. I have hoped for all things good for you. I'm sure you're still funny, creative and smart. From the outside looking in, you have a good life. And you got there on your own, with all the life lessons you gained along your journey.

Through it all, that's all I really wanted for you.