The distance we travel... from who we were to who we are

Looking ahead or looking behind, or
just noticing the reflection...? 

During a recent online coaching program, the facilitator assigned homework. We were asked to record a live two-minute video, owning up to and sharing the "worst" thing we've ever done. 

When I heard it, I thought... really? The worst thing?? Holy crap. Not doing that. However, from a brief stint in Al-Anon, I recall that owning our stuff and making amends is a big part of recovery, so I know exercises like these can be helpful and healing. 

So I took some time for self-reflection and paid a visit to my past.  

Looking back over many years, there was a lot of bad behavior, particularly during my teens. Transitioning from that goody-two-shoes I wrote about here, I had few boundaries and couldn't care less about consequences.  

However, from that teenage fog, I evolved into a searching, seeking young adult. It wasn't always easy; there were backslides... but I started to care about myself enough to make good decisions and take better care of myself. Perhaps the seeds my grandfather planted--justice, integrity, and gratitude--finally took root; they're now the core of who I am.  


Troubled years 

I spent many of those teen years looking for love in all the wrong places and numbing myself. I later learned about unconscious beliefs, and what mine were: I didn't belong here on this earthly plane; those I cared about would leave; if anything good came my way, it would be taken away, so why try, why bother... So for a long time, I didn't try, and I didn't bother. 

There's an adage: Hurt people hurt people. I mostly just hurt myself, but certainly, there was collateral damage along the way. I'm not proud of that, but it's because of who I was that I can be who I am today. 


Change is possible 

Somewhere along the way, there were leverage and inflection points. A roommate who had a mental health breakdown. A best friend lost to addiction. Breakups and losses, and some very hard lessons. Then, an introduction to metaphysics. A sociology professor who taught the Handbook to Higher Consciousness. And finally, a job that piqued my curiosity and launched a career, and a Canadian beau who changed my worldview. 

An important lesson: We don't do anything alone. 

I still have a bit of that rebellious teen within me. I also value freedom, adventure, authenticity, and autonomy. 


Looking ahead

There's no way I could have predicted when I was 20 who I would be at 30, nor at 30, who I'd be at 40, and so on. Whoever coined the phrase, "the days are long but the years are short" totally got it. Time slips and memories play tricks, and sometimes it seems that time literally vaporizes. 

With the onset of this new decade, I can't predict where I'll be in another 10 years, either. I know what I'd like my life to look like—but it's impossible to know what life lessons lay ahead of me, and what I'll make them mean. 

Imagining is a good exercise, though--where you'd like to be 10 years from now: who you'll have in your life, where you'll live, what work you'll do (or not), how much money you'll have, the places you'll go between now and then, the lifestyle you dream about. 

Imagining gives you something to strive for, and just like goals, you're more likely to get to the place you want to go if you can see it, feel it, embrace it.  


Worst thing ever? 

So what was my worst thing? Nope, not saying... I chose a couple from an interesting list, some of which previously required amends, to others and myself.  

I don't often revisit my past now because I previously did a lot of healing work. But sometimes it's good to look back again—if only to see how far we've come. The good news: we're never stuck. We can always become a better version of ourselves. We have the power to change. 


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. 

Ready, set... reset

I took this photo when I stayed here 6 years ago, 
and my 'seagull series' remains a favorite. 
This may have even been from the 
same balcony. 

A storm came up on my Thursday drive to Cannon Beach, Oregon from Seattle, with unrelenting high wind and pelting rain until Saturday morning. I hunkered down in my hotel room—a good thing since I paid extra for that ocean-front view this time.  

I'm deeply in need of a reset: body, mind, spirit... from diet to finances to... well, right now it feels like everything. This place is magic for me: open ocean, crashing waves, lengthy beaches, monolithic sea stacks, a delightful town center, fantastic local food, and, were I to venture farther, more charming pocket towns to explore along the coast just a short drive away.  

Revisiting self-care

How I reset can take different forms, depending on my current experience: stream-of-consciousness writing, journaling, reading, walking, meditating, a change in diet, or as of this moment, staring at and listening to the ocean, sitting next to the fire. Sometimes just a change in scenery has a powerful impact.  

I came here loaded with books, a journal and notepads, my laptop, tea, a swimsuit and running shoes, my camera, and nourishing things—because I don't yet know what "reset" requires.  

I use Insight Timer nearly every morning to help me meditate, a practice I aim for but can't say I'm good at, but sets the tone for my day. Lately, I'm not very focused, so I need that "me time." 

Waking up

A friend pinged me with some urgency before I left to suggest I listen to Sam Harris, both his podcast Making Sense and his Waking Up meditation course during this reset. His timing was perfect.  

On the drive, I listened to Sam's podcast with Roland Griffiths, Ph.D., a Johns Hopkins University professor of psychiatry and neuroscience. He's doing extraordinary work with psychedelics. Researchers today are building on work that started in the 1940s but got sidelined in the '60s; sadly, recreational psychedelic use freaked out the powerful who then killed the research. Thankfully, research now shows intriguing results for those who suffer from otherwise hard-to-treat conditions, like PTSD. Michael Pollan ("eat food, mostly plants, not too much") speaks to this in How to Change Your Mind.  

I also started Sam's Waking Up course to help unwind, regroup, and regenerate. 

Year-end intention

That's my intention for the next two weeks: regroup, reset, regenerate. 

This year-end reset ritual is a regular practice, although how I do it differs each year. My birthday (Dec. 19) and winter solstice—the shortest day and longest night of the year—marks the beginning of my self-reflection—my own new year. For many cultures, this is a solstice tradition; both solstice celebrations and Christmas are grounded in pagan rituals. (Here's an inspiring travel article.)

My prompts for thinking and writing: 

• What do I want my life to look like, particularly the year ahead?
• Are there themes to focus on? 
• Beyond goals, what intentions must be set? 

My birthday dessert, 
Stephanie Inn
chocolate pot-de-creme

Solitude and time alone are requirements, away from distractions and what's familiar.  

I need to breathe, walk, meditate, read, eat well, write, and sleep.... and this weekend, stare at the ocean and listen to the surf.   

Just 'be' 

Sometimes just being is enough. We're always doing, so not doing is essential. Early in Sam's Waking Up course, he quotes Socrates: A life unexamined is not worth living. Or at least, he adds, it may be worth living, but it's not very interesting. Our purpose is to grow and evolve, and we must just be to integrate learning, let go, and recalibrate. 

#soulretreat #selfcareishealthcare #healthcareisselfcare 



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. 

How to get out of your own way and achieve your dreams

Infinite possibilities

About ten years ago, I unearthed a belief I'd held all my life: I didn't belong here. I had no right to take up space.

You might wonder where that came from, or how I came to realize it. Or why it even matters. 

A little background

While I had reached a certain level of my definition of success, I never got where I wanted to go. I was undervalued at work, overlooked for better roles or promotions, didn't have the means to do the things that mattered most. I never sought the spotlight, and consequently got no rewards and limited recognition. I'd put myself out there just enough to improve my position, but every step was painful and hard. I gave everyone else more credit for being smarter, better, or more able to 'play the game'. 

This was behavior I arrived at to keep myself safe, and even though I'd do the "work" and spout affirmations, I continued to get in my own way. I felt it physically, in my chest and throat, like I was somehow stopped or trapped, and I didn't understand why. Because I was doing the work. 

What's underneath 

My dad died right after I was born and my parents weren't married—not acceptable at that point in our societal evolution. My father's mother and sister insisted I couldn't be his, and I didn't meet my dad's family until my early 20s after reaching out to them and asking if we were related (they said yes, thankfully). 

A 'goody-two-shoes' until I was 12, I did a 180 when I hit 13. I was the black sheep on my mom's side of my family before and after the 180 (each for different reasons). Throughout my childhood, my mom worked full-time, and many of my caretakers died during my formative years. My mom checked out emotionally and abdicated her role as a parent when my aunt died. I was 9. My grandfather died when I was 10, my grandmother at 12. 

I believed everyone who loved me left me. As an adult, my intellect told me they didn't leave because of me, but under the surface, my childhood internalization believed differently.  

I carried that belief beneath my awareness until 10 years ago. 

In high school, as mentioned in previous posts, while smart enough, I was the classic underachiever. Nobody cared. The ongoing message from teachers and other significant adults was that I'd never amount to anything. I was too much of a f*ck up. I was always in trouble, always looking for love, acceptance, and approval in all the wrong places, from all the wrong people. I had no appropriate role models. 

What I know now? I was ashamed. 

I carried the shame of being alive, of having no right to take up space, until 10 years ago.

There's no blame here

There's no blame here, nor do I regret my past or wish I could change it. I am who I am today because of my experiences and I am authentically grateful for all I've experienced, for where I am, and for what I have now.

And... you can bet I'm happy to say goodbye to those beliefs.

Ten years ago, my partner and I separated (a continuation of 'everyone that matters leaves me'). Thankfully, we both saw an amazing woman, separately, who guided us to understand how we got in our own way. 

I didn't know I carried that shame or had those beliefs. Beneath the surface, I felt unworthy and never good enough, even though I told myself this wasn't true. Whether I believed that or not, I can't say for sure. 

I knew these—and more—life events happened and were reason enough to have the not-good-enough not-worthy-enough beliefs. These are also common beliefs; most of us experience a version of them for part of our lives, if not all. 

But those weren't my core beliefs. There was more. That underlying, body-snatching, mind-numbing, deeply-buried but driving belief that I didn't belong here... that I had no right to take up space—these were new to me. And as soon as I saw them, I knew they were true. And they were cemented in shame.  

Why this matters

Unearthing these allowed me to see how I got in my own way, heal, and then change my circumstances for good. I still sometimes fight old patterns and behaviors; they were part of me for so long that they're deeply ingrained, and in many ways, they're still part of me. But now I can appreciate them; they're part of my shadow and give me perspective. I don't recall the last time I called myself stupid—a pattern I developed, likely learned, as a teen. Awareness is the critical first step to changing these. Now I take up space, ensure my voice is heard, and in turn, I make space for other unheard voices, too. 

Brené Brown, an expert on shame (I'm sure many of you have seen her TEDTalks on shame and vulnerability or read her books), gives this definition of shame in Dare to Lead:

Shame is the intensely painful feeling or experience of believing that we are flawed and therefore unworthy of love, belonging, and connection. Shame drives two tapes: 1) Not good enough, and 2) Who do you think you are? 

These beliefs keep us small. We stay in the background, don't reach for our dreams, get complacent, get comfortable with comfort. We don't take risks. We rarely achieve our potential or fully share our gifts with the world. As she notes, we put our armor on and ultimately, suffocate. 

We fear change. 
We fear risk. 
Instead, we do what we think 
keeps us safe and we 
die inside a little every day.

Shame is universal

Brown also notes that we all have shame. She gives examples: we feel ashamed when we're laid off (✔), get divorced (✔), are sexually harassed or abused (✔✔) (even though it's not our fault), or when we feel proud of something and then we're told it wasn't all that by someone whose opinion counts (✔✔✔✔...). Maybe it's just feeling disconnected, that we're unable to keep up with everything around us (✔). I'm sure you have your own examples. Sometimes, these embed themselves within us before we're even cognitively aware. 

Still not sure how or if shame shows up for you? Shame is often masked as perfectionism, blaming, and the isms (e.g., workaholism, alcoholism).

How to change your experience

First, be clear. Shame isn't guilt. Shame says we're bad; guilt says we did something bad. Brown writes, "the opposite of experiencing shame is experiencing empathy." 

The only way to release shame's hold on us is to recognize it and talk about it. To allow ourselves to be vulnerable, and look under the proverbial hood at what makes us tick. Love yourself enough to ask the hard questions and do the hard work because it's worth it: 

• Ask yourself what you believe about yourself at your core, and then ask what's underneath that. Keep asking. Be honest. 
• Look at your life events and ask what you made them mean about yourself.
• Ask whose opinion mattered more than your own, especially growing up, and whether you still believe those opinions.
• Look at your core values and make sure they're your own. 
• Think deeply about what matters most, and if you're not doing it, ask the questions again and again.

If you're not achieving what matters to you, however you define it, you may have an old belief still holding you back and getting in your way. It's worth getting a little dirty to see what might be lurking behind your awareness. You may want to work with a therapist or coach; that's what made the difference for me. 

Compassion is empathy's cousin. Be sure to be compassionate with yourself because this is hard work. And these beliefs aren't our fault. That said, we're now responsible. While I firmly believe we create our circumstances, these beliefs weren't in our conscious awareness and were adopted or learned based on the best information we had at the time. Now, with new awareness, we can let go and unlearn, and ultimately, we won't suffocate, we'll soar.  

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.

Change: Sometimes you have to burn your fields

A sunflower must reach for the sun
to thrive. 

In an online group discussion this morning, I learned one of the participants is going through monumental personal and professional change. In response to his description, another participant, who grew up on a midwest farm, said, "even a farmer burns his fields"—which, although it seems destructive,  also ushers in new life, bringing nutrients back to the soil and promoting future plant health. 

Essentially, sometimes you have to stop and start over. Or, to paraphrase a term I heard when my own life turned upside down 10 years ago, sometimes you have to just blow everything up. 

Change is good

Ten years later, no regrets, despite the deep anguish of the time. I started over, dove deep into self-awareness, and on the other side found new insights and a future I could believe in.  

When the farmer burns the land, the fire not only replenishes the soil but breaks open seeds from which new plants can grow. When everything is stripped away, it's easier to see what's left, if there's anything worth keeping, and what needed to be scrapped anyway. 

While I don't advocate that we all blow everything up just for the sake of change, sometimes, that's what it takes to shake us out of our complacency. It's from this place where we can create our future based on what we want, not what we had, nor who we were, nor where we came from. 

I don't know about you, but in the past, there have been numerous times when I knew something wasn't working... and I didn't do anything about it until that proverbial two-by-four hit me over the head and I had no choice. 

I'd rather be the farmer, preparing the soil for my future. That burn gives us a fresh start. 

Not my smartest move...  

This morning's conversation also reminded me that when, as an internal communications manager for an organization during massive culture change, I found myself in HR's crosshairs. I oversaw all content for the company-wide intranet and often posted curated content to add validity to the changes underway. 

We were asking employees to change how they think about work, to be customer-obsessed and servant leaders, and to take an entrepreneurial approach to work. I posted the Fast Company story, with only the headline visible: How to Overthrow Your Boss and Burn Your Company to the Ground. 

Being future-focused, I thought it was a great piece and furthered the shift in thinking we wanted. HR wasn't amused and made me pull it, even with my strong rationale and the support of our VP to leave it up. 

Hindsight being 20/20, that may have been a catalyst for my next whack with a two-by-four.  

Burn your ships

While trying to find that 2015 Fast Company article to post here, I discovered a similar expression: Burn your ships. Apparently, when explorer Hernán Cortéz landed in the new world, he burned his ships, sending a message to the crew that there was no turning back. It was, quite literally, succeed or die. 

In other words, you can't have one foot out the door. You're either committed or you aren't. I often ask myself the question, are you interested or committed—one of my key takeaways from the Landmark Forum a couple of decades ago. If I'm just interested, those proverbial ships are my escape route, and I'm unlikely to achieve my goals. If I'm committed, I'm going to get where I say I'm going no matter what; I don't need those ships! 

No try, just do

(Borrowed from the interwebs...
copyright TBD; asking forgiveness,
not permission)

And finally, at least half a dozen times in the last week, I was told, heard, or saw the famous words of StarWars Jedi Master: Do or do not. There is no try. Wise master Yoda reminded me, via various channels, that the only way forward is to act. While I believe that burning the fields works, I've done that enough, and I don't want to be hit again with that proverbial two-by-four. So my only option is to do. No try. Just do. The hard things, the easy things. The daily habits and rituals. Those things that must be done. 

So tell me, what's your gut telling you that you need to change? What can you change now so you, too, can avoid that whack on the head and be the farmer instead? What must you do to create a life you want to wake up to every day? 

I'm about to change nearly everything, again, but this time, I'm doing it on my terms. And having some fun with it, too. 

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.

16 simple steps to change your past and create your future

Where do you
want to go? 

I've spent a lot of time working on mindset and on letting go of my past. I had plenty of stuff happen to me throughout my life, particularly my teen years, as I've written about here on occasion. 

There are days I still feel like I'm far behind where I could have been if I'd had better parents, better teachers, better role models. But I didn't. And as an adult, I am the only one responsible for where I am in my life. Sure, I was a little slow off the mark. I'd like to be financially independent like some of my high school mates. But I'm alive, and some of those high school mates aren't. There are no guarantees. 

We all make choices, even if they're unconscious. Our patterns and beliefs served us at points in time. We developed coping skills and habits to move us along in the world. But at some point, we have to look at whether these continue to serve us or hinder our progress. A lot of the time, they stop us from having the life we want. 

Our roadmap

I've written about Landmark's Forum, too. A few questions I took away, all those years ago, are:

• what did you make it mean?
• what's the payoff?

What those two questions refer to are the incidents that happened to us and the meaning we assigned them. Even pre-verbal, we can assign meaning to something that directly impacts our self-worth, but most often, it's something that happened when we were kids. Sometimes it's truly something heinous. I totally get that. I had a few of those things. Big things. Things I'm still not comfortable writing about here. But at some point, we have to decide if that's the roadmap we want.  

Problem is, a lot of us don't even know it's a map. But it is. How we interact with our past shows up in how we interact with the world. Is the world a friendly place? Is there enough to go around? How do you make your presence known? Do you often feel bad about what happened to you, or someone else? (Just so you know, they may be over it...)

Change your story...

We CAN change our past. No, we can't change what happened, but we can change how we see it, feel about it, and our response to it, which really does change it. Our minds are amazing things... We have the power. 

Edwene Gaines, a Unity minister in Alabama, overcame a life of poverty and tells her compelling life story in The Four Spiritual Laws of Prosperity. In a vignette that illustrates the power of changing our story about something that happened, she talks about changing her consciousness around sexual abuse, and the gift of an understanding heart that came from that. That's huge. I'm not suggesting you do that, but, how we view our past plays out in our future in one way or another.  

It's worth doing the deep work to uncover these beliefs, habits, world views, and coping mechanisms. Because if we don't know they're there, they will drive us based on that existing map, full of potholes and dead ends, and keep us from getting where we want to go. Or at least, it'll take a lot longer to get there.  

Don't believe me? Try it.  

Simple, but not easy

So, in that vein, I have a list of steps for your consideration that can help you change your past and create your future. They're things to note and things to do, all simple, but not easy: 

1. When you focus on whatever happened in your past, you give it power
2. When you focus on that past event, you give it meaning
3. Consider: how real and true is the meaning you gave it? was it someone else's opinion, and if yes, why did their opinion matter, and does it still? 
4. Now: assign new meaning to whatever happened to you—what good came from what happened? Feel it, believe it, know it in your bones. Make it real. 
5. And, devalue whoever else's opinion played in, because their opinion has less weight than yours; you are the expert on your life and who you are
6. Ask yourself: what's the payoff? Do you still get value by reliving what happened? For example, some of us like to be right, and by living in our past, we get to be right, or we get to be a victim, and not take responsibility for where we are in your lives
7. Ask yourself: what did you learn from what happened to you that has value for you now
8. Own that something good came from your experience
9. Forgive anyone who harmed you, or yourself, for harming yourself or others
10. When old tapes start to play restating that meaning, or that opinion, hit the stop button on your internal stereo
11. Put in a new tape that brings you joy; what do you want to tell yourself instead? You get to make it up, just like you did the first time, only this time with more wisdom and knowledge to draw from
12. Give yourself room to dream and create a better future
13. Decide that you deserve to have better problems, and that you can't carry the world on your shoulders
14. Do what's yours to do and let go of the rest, trusting that we all have something we can do, and we do it the best we can
15. Stop caring what anyone else thinks, and let go of the need for permission; chances are, if you're reading this, you're an adult, and you don't need permission, and anyone else's opinion of you or your actions is none of your business
16. Remember: all that old stuff doesn't serve you now unless you're getting a payoff, and then you have to ask if the payoff is worth it. All that old stuff showed up to keep you safe, but if you want to grow, evolve, and flourish, you have to change your mind about your experience and give it new meaning.

And a bonus step: To quote Richard Bach in Jonathan Livingston Seagull, "argue for your limitations and they're yours."


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.

Listen with your heart, not your ears

(Source: "the good quote")

A friend and I stopped for an appetizer after stocking up on produce at the local farmers market, and a comment she made about how I prioritized my time prompted a curt knee-jerk reaction from me. I caught myself and apologized, but this isn't the first time I reacted this way to her.

Knowing that our relationships are our greatest source of growth, that we humans are complicated, and that we all have blinders, I spent time journaling, had a sleepless night, and got more clear about why I react to her; this doesn't happen with anyone else.

We know what we know...

We think we know someone else's experience based on our own experience. But we don't, not really. We can attempt to walk in another's shoes, and empathy is essential, but we each have different reference points with different needs and desires.

I often say words matter, but I'll also add that tone, body language, and facial expressions also matter and are subject to interpretation.  

My friend has a way of being with me that taps into my self-doubt, where I question and judge myself. I actually felt judged. I felt unseen, disregarded. I felt mothered in a way that wasn't motherly. And I reacted defensively—only for a moment, but enough to change the dynamic.  

Relationships take two


I kept journaling, and a conversation with an 'intentional conversation' partner reminded me of The Four Agreements—one agreement is not taking anything personally, and another is don't make assumptions. 

I can't make this personal. If she is judging me, it's about her and not me. I know my friend isn't happy. Could it be that her unhappiness shows up in how she perceives me, how she interacts with me, and could be what I react to? Maybe. I won't assume, but it's worthy of consideration. 

My journal, and author Joe Dispenza's
Breaking the Habit of Being Yourself

And... all relationships take two. My responsibility is to consider how I hear, ask clarifying questions, and clear misconceptions. Instead of feeling judged and unseen by her words, I can listen differently. Just as we see from our own unique lens, we hear with our own unique filters, and our monkey mind then interprets. 

What did you mean when you said that? What made you think that? Do you want to know... why I feel that way... don't have time... what I'm doing? 

We learn about ourselves from each other

In the Landmark Forum, they describe a way of listening and perceiving as "already always listening"—those unconscious filters that define what we hear. I have an already always listening for my friend—and I realize it's been developing for a while. I'm not wrong when I say I feel unseen—so much has changed both for me and about me in recent years that she has no insight into, but if I care enough, it's my responsibility to speak up and be both seen and heard. I haven't done that. 

This also requires trust, and I'm not sure we have that right now.

So, I'm going to listen with my heart and not my ears, and do my part to use my voice and claim my space, and see what changes. I can also listen with love and compassion, knowing she's having a hard time and may have clouded vision. 

I don't want to react. No one has power over this but me. When we know better, we do better, said Maya Angelou. I hope I know better in the future.   

Is there anyone you have an already always listening for? Do you anticipate what someone will say or how they'll say it? Again, all relationships take two... It may be up to them to change what they say or how they talk, and up to you to speak up and listen differently.  


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.