The fixings of possibility

A world of abundance

So many of us in the northern hemisphere are incredibly fortunate when we compare our lives to the world at large. But as the divide between rich and poor continues to increase, the wealth gap ever-widening, there are more of us who aren't so lucky. 

Here in the US, we have millions who live below the poverty line, and there are growing numbers of people who have nowhere to go at night other than an urban, unsanctioned, and makeshift campsite. This is all a giant shouldn't be and why those who have the power to enact policy to at least keep people fed and safe don't do that befuddles me beyond comprehension.  

Wise choices 

That said, we're all blessed to live in a time of inconceivable prosperity, although for many, there is no trickle-down. The majority who read this blog I assume live in a place where you can make choices that serve you, and you can course-correct when you make a bad decision. Peter Arnell, in his book Shift, wrote, "we can be our own aspiration." 

That's the stuff I write about most of the time. I love that we can choose a better life for ourselves with every decision we make. 

But it's important to remember that not everyone can—or at least, they don't know they can. We're all blessed with free-will, too, but even that's a non-starter for so many. If you can barely take care of your physiological and safety needs, it's highly unlikely you'll think about or maybe even know about the higher levels of Maslow's hierarchy of needs. 

Celebrate your gifts 

Danielle LaPorte, author of The Firestarter Sessions and other amazing books and resources, wrote on Instagram, "Can we be grateful for what we have when others are going without?" Yes, she says. Be modest and respect others, but celebrate all you're blessed with. 

She's right—because when we have more resources, we can do more, be more, share more. When we live into our potential, or lift ourselves up, we put that into the universal energy field and lift others up, too. 

We're grounded in belief

Yes, we all have the fixings of possibility (thanks to Liberte for the phrase). Even those who seemingly have nothing. But sadly, they don't know it, and may not have a way to find out. They haven't received a hand up and may rely on handouts, which feed their bodies but not their souls. As I view our growing homeless community, I wish I could help in a way that matters most—at that deep subterranean level where we know we have value.  

No matter where you live or what your experience, so much of what we have as adults is based on what we believe. No one spoke more eloquently and meaningfully about this than Austrian psychologist Viktor Frankl, in Man's Search for Meaning, who spent years in a Nazi concentration camp.  

Those living in abject poverty may not know any other way. They may believe that's all they're worth. Many come from childhoods with countless 'adverse events' with no tools or resources to change. They may have never had a lucky break, a mentor, or an opportunity to see life from a different vantage point. Eric Butterworth, in Spiritual Economics, writes, "We have been erroneously conditioned to believe that our lives are completely shaped by what happens around us and to us. But life is lived from within-out. It's not what happens 'out there', but what we do or how we think about what happens."

What we believe can keep us in poverty, lonely, and unwell. It's for those reasons we owe it to ourselves and everyone else to use our freedom and privilege wisely and to do what we can to live from an abundant mindset. 

Know your worth

Those fixings of possibility? Know your worth, know you're part of something bigger, and carry with you at all times the mindset of abundance, gratitude, and generosity. Even if you don't feel privileged, if you live in the US, particularly in the Pacific Northwest, you likely benefit from some kind of privilege by the very fact you live where you do. 

When we acknowledge and accept this, we can make choices that contribute to a better world. We owe it to those who have less to make smart choices, to expand our capacity to be the best we can be, and to model the way for others. And, extend a helping hand in whatever way you can, in a way that's meaningful to you. 

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.

The point of power

You have the power to change, right where you are, in the present moment...

For some, the word 'mantra' applies to meditation; mantras used for this are usually common and help quiet the mind's non-stop parade of thoughts. I call my guiding principles mantras because that's often the purpose they serve—quotes and phrases that randomly show up in my life and stick because they're useful, and get repeated regularly. 

I'm a long-time fan of Louise Hay. I read her book, You Can Heal Your Life, around it's original publish date. While I can't vouch for all the correlations she makes, she popularized the idea of the mind / body connection, and several of her quotes embedded themselves in my brain's deep recesses at an early age.  

I didn't intentionally memorize these. They settled in over the years, unwittingly, and now surface at relevant moments in time. They help me solve problems, guide my actions, and keep me focused. 

Ken Keyes Handbook to Higher Consciousness, a book I read in a college sociology class, offered one: I feel with loving compassion the problems of others without getting caught up emotionally in what they need for their growth. 

I have repeated this more times than I can count, and I've shared it with others who also find it useful. It's like the gift that keeps giving; it keeps me sane, helps me be clear on where I'm responsible and where I'm not, and allows others to have their experience without me getting in the way.  

Be present...

However, the one mantra I say more than any other is from Louise: The point of power is in the present moment. 

Meaning, we only have this moment, right now, right here. We can't change the past, and we can't see the future. We have what's immediately in front of us. 

Choose wisely...

A coaching premise is that we are all "at choice" even though we're often not conscious of this. Not making a choice, or a decision, is also a choice; we're just not usually happy with what shows up when we abdicate our options. That's why it's important to aim for increased mindfulness and being intentional about what we do every day. For example:  

• What decision or choice can you make right now to get the results you want? 
• What one thing can you do to support the life you long for? 
• What step must you take in this moment to move toward your goals? 
• Does the thought you're thinking right now help or hinder, empower or disapprove? 
• Do your current actions lead you where you want to go? 

Every moment offers a new opportunity to do something different. If you don't like the direction you're headed, you can change it. If you aren't happy with something in your life, redirect it. If what's in your head is a better foe than friend, change your thoughts (more Louise: change your thoughts, change your life). 

Stay present. Be conscious. If you have trouble staying present, stop and breathe. A few deep breaths will bring you back into your body and take you out of your head, and place you right where you need to be—in the present moment.  


Inclusive, not exclusive...  

And, because it's more important than ever right now, and in our collective conscious, for those who would suggest I check my privilege, I'm blatantly aware of my good fortune: to be born in this particular pocket of North America at this particular time in history, among other advantages, it's relatively easy for me to say these things—and I also know that while much, much harder for many, changing your circumstances isn't impossible, even though I know it can seem that way. For some, the idea of choice isn't even a reality. But that doesn't make it untrue.

I have much to be grateful for, including this awareness. Because of this, I help others find their path and guide them toward change. What a better world we'd live in if we were all able to recognize the power we have in the present moment of our own lives.  

Thanks for being here. 


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. 

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.