On Purpose: Getting Lost

"Are you a workaholic?" A newer friend asked with sincerity in the middle of a party.

"No, but I used to be..." I replied.

We were sitting on the sofa in our friend's house catching up a bit when the conversation went deep. I like deep, so I was in my element.

"It's really just a busy season and I knew it was coming. Now that I'm in it, I'm noticing how long my days are and how much capacity I have to accomplish again. But I am tired right now. It's a lot." I added.

She nodded and I continued, "Busy is different than what it used to be because my motives have changed as I've gotten into the roots of why I did what I did back then..."

You could say I was lost for a long time and a few years back, I began to find my footing again. I've been reflecting on this conversation as I prepared to write for the week, considering what it means to be where I am now versus where I was then.

From where I sit now, it seems I had to get lost in my work to discover who I am and what I was really made for in this life. I have an appreciation for the years I lived focusing on what people thought of me and the seasons when proving myself worthy was a way of life. I have compassion for myself in the places where I experienced gaps in real areas of need like being loved and belonging. It's fascinating to uncover what we do to fill in our own gaps in this life... And perhaps more so, amazing to learn how even the bad can shape us for good as we heal and move forward.

These days getting lost has taken on new meaning for me. Once my motives were identified and ironed out through a lot of personal transformation, I started imagining a future I knew I wanted but never knew how to cultivate. Of course, it's still a process, but getting lost here has looked a whole lot like trying new things. For one, when I left the non-profit world almost four years ago, I focused my business consultancy in a 'project management' direction and set aside major time to write the draft of my first full book manuscript. Within the first year and a half I understood that while I was employing skills that came naturally to me, I wasn't thoroughly enjoying most of the work I was taking on. It was risky to pivot my business to focus more in areas of strength and passion but I reached a point where it was more painful to stay the same than to pivot. While I'm still working hard to grow it, I can't express how worthwhile it has been to make the changes I've made. 

Getting lost has also meant that I've taken on side roles that met specific needs for me along the way. It has been so freeing to choose what I've needed instead of letting a role define me or my value. I took one position because the projects I'd taken on at the time had me working alone often. As an extrovert, I was experiencing a huge deficit in energy level which was actually negatively affecting my work. So, I opted to give quite a number of hours weekly in a job that didn't pay much, but afforded me the opportunity to work with people all of the time! While I was there, I gained insight into their organizational structure and what worked well and what didn't work well. I learned a ton. It helped me and I hope it helped them to have me there.

In another role I've recently stepped into on an interim basis, I'm learning a whole new skill set in business—accounting. Truth be told, this particular area feels like the antithesis to my natural wiring. In college, I felt like I was pretty terrible at it, actually. My grades were mediocre, at best, and I didn't think I had a knack for being able to understand it. Coursework in accounting was required to attain my marketing degree, so I couldn't avoid it. And, here I am 17.5 years later, working in a capacity where I'm learning pieces of it more intentionally. Life is funny... This might sound strange, but It's actually awesome to be in over my head. I know the work I'm doing now will help me in the future as I learn this new 'language' and better understand structural considerations for billing, payments, vendors, systems and more. It's pretty wonderful, actually (even on the days when I totally mess something up).

Getting lost here, in these side roles, has been an important piece in my journey forward. The intentionality required to get lost in order to move forward and have needs met is key. Who knows where we'll be a few years, after all? But what if we focus on what's in front of us, serving others and growing as people? A lot of good can come from putting ourselves in places and positions that are needed today—for ourselves and for others.

So...

• Have you gotten lost lately?
• What does it look like for you?
• Is it helping you to stay stuck or to move forward?

On Purpose: Your Talents

I had the privilege of experiencing a modern parable a few weeks back. Early in the morning, I arrived at a place in the city where I spend time each week. Having not planned well for breakfast, I popped into a local spot and purchased an egg and cheese biscuit. On my way in, I noticed two men outside and wondered if they'd like some breakfast. I let the thought pass for the moment, unsure if the gesture might be taken well. But even after I purchased just one, I kept thinking about purchasing a total of four biscuits and wondered why. 

A short while later, I was outside munching on mine, taking in the surrounding area while watching cars pass by as people headed to their work for the day. Another man approached from a side street and took a seat nearby. I thought, "Ah, four biscuits..." I made my way back to the restaurant and ordered the additional three. 

Taking them outside, I walked to the man who had most recently arrived. "Good morning!" I said. "I wondered if you'd like some breakfast?" He quickly pulled away from me and placed a hand up between the two of us. His "No," was firm and insistent. I felt a bit surprised, but shook my head in understanding, smiled and wished him a good day. I had three biscuits remaining.

I next approached the second man who sat on another bench close by. Repeating my greeting, he looked up, adjusted his headphones so he could hear me and I proceeded to ask my question. He looked first to me, then to the bag and shrugged his shoulders saying, "Okay." I handed him the biscuit, smiled and wished him a good day. I had two biscuits remaining.

The third man sat apart, further across the plaza. I approached him and noticed he was sleeping. Hating to interrupt but determined to offer him breakfast, I said, "Excuse me..." He woke with a start, then eased. I repeated the greeting I'd offered to the others. He leaned closer and asked a question I didn't understand at first. He softly asked again, "Do you think I should try it?" His eyes were full of kindness and curiosity. I was caught off guard by his manner and his question as I replied, "Oh yes... I mean, I think they're very good. I got it from right over there..."

Shaking his head in agreement, I smiled broadly, "Oh, there are two in here and they're both for you if you'd like them..." He accepted. I introduced myself and asked his name. Giving him the biscuits, I wished him a good day and left shortly thereafter. I had no biscuits remaining.

This entire experience got me thinking again about our talents. Each of us is offered something in this life which, in turn, gives us something to offer back. If we consider the biscuits as talents entrusted to us, like the first man, we can dismiss the invitation to take hold of them and thereby refuse the enjoyment that comes from using them.

Like the second man, perhaps some of us lay hold of our talent, but we're sort-of neutral about having it. Maybe we're glad to have the talent, but we don't think much of the gift or understand the intention behind it. Perhaps it doesn't really matter beyond what we can personally gain from it.

Like the third man, perhaps we want to know more. We show genuine curiosity and interest in the offering. We seek to understand what it is before taking hold of it with delight.

Who do you relate to in this story?

I was really inspired by the third man. He sought to relate to me over the gift and when he took it as his own, his face showed the delight of the moment. I promise that I do not hold judgment for the other two men, it's just that my experience with the third man stirred something inside of me. I honestly wished that I had more biscuits to give to him. It was a joy to be generous with him because he took interest in the gift and received it in a way that totally increased the joy of the encounter. 

My experience also caused me to reflect on what it means to reject or embrace our talents. In the first man's case, he was given nothing because he had no interest in it. Though the gift was right there for the taking and there are many ways he could have used it, not only did he refuse the offer, but he rejected any good that may have come from its acceptance. 

The second man received one talent. He could easily use it to take care of his personal need and be satisfied. He could also enjoy part and share a part of it. He immediately had at least a couple of options when it came to next steps. His decision to take hold of it mattered. It opened up new possibilities for him.

The third man gained even more talents. Given his openness that led to my desire to give him both, he was securely positioned to share what he had been given. Not only because of the number of talents he received but because he gained understanding about what he was receiving. He could take the knowledge and do even more with it.

In a way, I started with nothing, too. I was given the opportunity to step into more because I faced a personal need. That very need led me to consider the needs I noticed around me. Not only that but when my need was being met, I was again confronted by the needs of those around me and I felt more care for the people in my path. This moment was the opportunity to grasp the "more." For me, the "more" led me to greater joy, connection, and hope because it led me outside of myself and toward others. All of this from four little biscuit sandwiches... 

The beauty of all of the above is how none of it required any sort of grand plan or use of extensive resources. It required eyes to see and a willingness to connect and share. I still think I'm the one who gained the most from the experience that morning. Those men and those delicious biscuit sandwiches reminded me of the greater impact that can come when I employ my own talents in small, but purposeful ways. 

So...

• What need, large or small, is being highlighted in your life right now?
• Does anyone else around you have a similar need? (Note: You might have to guess at it/make an assumption and move outside your comfort zone to understand more.)
• What would it look like for you to employ who you are, or the talent(s) you've been given, to see your own need met as well as the needs of another?

When it comes down to it, I honestly believe that living our purpose simply involves us living with open eyes and hearts. You'll notice different things in your environment than I would. When you and I joyfully step into these places of opportunity, we offer something so unique and important to the world around us. Our talents matter. Whether time, actual abilities, resources, etc... 

As a quick aside, other people's responses don't limit your ability to offer your talents. People are where they're at for a reason. We can embrace and love them right then and there regardless of their receptivity to us. A friend of mine often says how there's always one more thing about someone else's story that we don't know... We can choose to stay in hope and joy even when the response is not what we expect (or desire). 

Now... What do you say that you and I get to work employing and sharing our talents today? I can't wait to hear what you learn and who you connect with as you step out, on purpose. 

Our Purpose: Personal Health

Last weekend was an absolute blur. Packed from start to finish with people plans, I marveled at my capacity to do it all. I've recently adjusted my weekly work rhythm and in this type of season, I'm typically more tired than not. But not last weekend. I felt energized, present in my life, and despite a blip of disappointment that arrived on my radar, hopeful.

Sunday morning a friend came over for coffee. I was up early to try my hand at converting my favorite protein-packed snack recipe from banana nut into pumpkin muffins. Baking away, I noticed how happy I was to be trying something new by expanding my options for a healthy on-the-go bite in my week. It was fun to be back in the kitchen and to later share those muffins, coffee, and stories with my friend.

I don't know about you, but I often experience seasons when I'm a little more aware of my physical health. My nutritional choices play a huge part in how I feel from day to day, of course, but I realize taking care of myself can be more involved than that. Personally, I like to give myself room to flex on how I maintain personal health from one season to the next. I'm someone who needs change to stay engaged. Some people need stability and more of an ongoing routine. Staying healthy has so much to do with knowing how we're wired and what is good for us in the season we're in.

My schedule change has me up between 5 and 5:30 AM these days. I had no idea how welcome this adjustment would be for me. My most alert and productive time is in the morning hours and I the shift has me working well with who I am. It has afforded me an earlier bedtime which has me feeling more rested overall. The quiet mornings have helped me to feel less rushed and more focused on what my day will become. Even after a long day of work appointments, I'm coming home and feeling energized to get out for a walk and picking up the house! And, instead of opting for more time alone after extra full days, last night I even reached out to a friend to see if she'd get out on that walk with me.

On top of this, I've been pretty aware of my sugar intake recently (including alcohol). I've decided to cut back again and focus more on eating natural sugars and getting more whole foods into my body. Don't get me wrong, you will see me with chocolate in hand here and there. I'm just choosing less of it right now. This decision has freed me up to say a good "yes" and a good "no" in my days. It has also created the space for me listen to that inner voice that tells me when I'm making a choice from a motive that will lead into life or death. All of this has left me feeling very encouraged.

If you can't tell, I'm sort of marveling at it all right now. I don't know about you, but sometimes I forget how simple it can be to have my needs met. Sometimes, a simple schedule change or the decision to give more attention to what I'm putting into my body is all I need to move forward with ease. I'm feeling freshly inspired as a result of these small adjustments. This inspiration has cultivated new ideas and solutions for the circumstances I'm facing both personally and professionally. 

To me, that's how all of this connects back to living on purpose... It's incredibly valuable to look at basic realities like our sleeping and waking time, our nutrition and our physical activity levels to make the necessary tweaks that will free us up into more energy and more hope in our days. When we're taking care of our personal health, we're positioning ourselves to create the future we're dreaming of and working towards. It's all connected. 

So...

• What practical steps are you taking to care well for yourself in the season you're in? Or: What practical steps will you take to care well for yourself in the season you're in?
• Consider the week ahead. Is there anything in your life/schedule that you will tweak to ensure you're rested, filled with energy and hope?

Take good care of yourself, won't you? You matter. Don't forget.

On Purpose: Imagine Your "More"

Sitting to write out a note to my friend in celebration of her birthday, I found myself penning, "MORE" as I thought of my hopes for her new year of life. I wondered what this idea of "MORE" would mean to her as she considered her present circumstances and the possibilities ahead. I started to dream on her behalf, imagining a greater freedom in the pieces of life and relationships that bring her the most energy and joy. I smiled thinking of what could be on the horizon for her. Of course, she is ultimately responsible for her "MORE" but I liked considering it, nonetheless. 

The whole process got me thinking... Are we all reaching for more? And not by striving in the way that the world around us tells us to, per say. Often, that type of "more" tends to represent more money, belongings or more success that can be defined in a way that keeps us hustling and never really living in rest. But what I mean is, OUR more. The positive "What if's" and the outlook that keeps us holding tightly to hope and awe. I could use a little more awe in my life... What about you?

Side note: if your "more" involves money or success in your career, please hear me well when I say that these can be worthy endeavors! I think it all comes back to our motivations. And, our motives can be linked to lovely and honorable things. We just have to be honest with ourselves about our actual "Why." 

A few days into these considerations, I was at the home of a friend who has several lovely orchids. I noticed a fallen blossom and picked it up to examine it. Even in the midst of being disconnected from the vine and a bit withered, I was struck by its beauty. The ivory bloom still brought joy and a sense of delight in its detached state. Every metaphor will fail at some juncture, of course, but here's what occurred to me... When we stay connected with the part of us that longs for the mysterious unfolding of our purpose in our daily lives, we position ourselves to grasp this "More." Thankfully, there can still be beauty and joy in life without it, but by remaining attached to our purpose, and our hope, we step into a whole new level of vibrancy in our lives.

This begs the question: If it is indeed possible for us to thrive continually in our lives, why don't we stay connected to the "more?"

While there are many reasons, I imagine some include...

• We've been burned when we've risked for the "more" in the past.
• Life has gotten in the way, somehow.
• People have failed us.
• We've set our expectations upon an outcome that hasn't come to pass.
• We've hoped and we've found ourselves disappointed.
• We've encountered a storm and the aftermath has left us exhausted, unable to really tap into the "more."

Reviewing this list, I think of conversation after conversation I have with people about their purpose. Each one has expressed a desire to do what they were made to do in this life, but the road hasn't always been easy. Our personal experiences can limit our ability to dream of the "more." We can be held back by our past disappointments, thought patterns, behaviors and beyond. So, when we begin to imagine our "more" we must also be willing to look at what keeps us from it. We must explore the root tendencies that keep us from staying connected to the proverbial vine so we can move forward.

So... 

• When you think about your "more," what does that list include?
• How do these hopes and dreams connect back to your purpose?
• What past experiences tell you that the "more" isn't possible? 

Take a good look this week. It's time to begin living your best life and fulfilling your purpose. And, this process starts with your willingness to say, "I want more..." Let the imagining begin!!

Storms: Onward

Image:  Photo by Max Langelott on Unsplash

The storm has come. It has passed. We've taken initial stock of what transpired as a result. We have rested and reflected. And now, onward... But what does that really mean?

One consistent thread I've noticed throughout my life is how from one storm to the next, I've figured out how to move forward. Life goes on, right? But I haven't always moved through the pieces of my experience in health or to fully heal. I used to live under a banner that said, "Get over it." This perspective set me into behavior where I "stuffed" what was real and didn't allow myself the space I needed to truly move forward as the storm wrapped up. Have you ever been there? You're over any thought of the storm and all you want to do is pick up the pieces and get out of there? BUT... 

• What if the storms we face in our lives actually position us to move onward into the best of lands?
• What if we glean from our experiences and allow them to transform us for the better?
• What if hope reigns and we put disappointment and any defeat imposed upon us in the wake of the storm away from us? 

It's not to say that we invalidate our experiences. No, not in the least. In fact, without looking deeply into what a storm triggered in us, took from us and how it has shaped us, we would miss the treasure altogether. But what if we legitimately decide that storms have no power to define us in any way that steals life and hope from us moving forward? 

Maybe it seems ridiculous or naive to live with this perspective. Perhaps you're not sure how to walk in this as your reality. If there's one thing I continue to learn over and over and over again in this life, it's that there's always another layer to uncover in my process of growth and transformation. Change occurs one step at a time, after all. To me, this is how we get to the place where we weather the storm in health and rest and ready ourselves for the "Onward!" 

At the end of the day, what it comes down to is our belief systems. If we give power to the storms we face in this life to devastate us, they will. It's not that life isn't filled with devastating circumstances. It's about our willingness and ability to be devastated by them. We are profound creatures. Our make-up is one of strength and courage. What we set our minds to, for good or bad, we achieve. Our perspectives literally shape our world!! 

And, instead of "handling" a storm by blaming our thoughts, feelings, and behaviors on our circumstances, what if we learned to take responsibility for them despite our circumstances? By taking responsibility for our response to what's happening (or what has happened), we tend to focus more on what we can do to move forward. We get creative, we develop solutions, we seek help, we heal. Plus, we are less likely to hurt the people around us as we navigate our way forward.

It's important to pause here and say: Sometimes we're literally in survival mode and don't have the capacity to sort through all of these layers, though. If you're there, it's okay. This just isn't the last word for you. You may need to come back when you're more fully rested to take a look at what your experience meant to you and go from there. It's a process...

Our individual journeys through each storm will be shaped by the growth and transformation experienced in the last. If we allow it, we grow stronger each time a new storm passes. Our feelings and experiences are valid. We just cannot allow them to rule us. I think we can learn this well over time. It also never hurts to have people in our lives who love us and are willing to tell us the truth. They are beacons of hope who can point out valuable "noticings" to us about our own experience and responses. When we think of moving onward, bringing them into dialogue about what that means and how that might look can be an invaluable decision.

So...

• Will you allow the storms in your life to position you to step into the best of lands by believing that the best is yet to come despite present circumstances?
• Will you allow the storms in your life to shape you for the better by allowing your character to be shaped and molded for the positive in the experience?
• Will you stay in hope by refusing to befriend disappointment and any suggestion that this storm marks your defeat as a person?

Let's dig deep into our experiences. Let's take responsibility for our responses. Let's heal for real. ONWARD.

Storms: The Deep Breath

Photo: Ryan Moreno

We've made it. The storm has passed. Typically, this is the time when we assess if there's any major or minor damage, determine our next steps and start moving forward. But, before fully jumping into the post-storm endeavors, please join me in taking a deep breath. 

When it comes to our post-storm health, I've found how it can be easy to get back into "normal" life without taking actual stock of how we're really doing. Wanting to put the storm behind us, we may rush ahead to wrap it up. We're usually attuned to realities in our environments, including the people around us and tasks that need to get done, but... What about the toll the storm took on our bodies, minds, and emotions?

In the days that followed Irma, those I encountered here in Orlando were tired and ready for our power to return. Slowly but surely, it did. Still, debris lined the streets (and currently does, actually) and I began to observe a shift in dialogue on social platforms as basic needs were met again. Most of the questions and concerns posted in my neighborhood group were about eradicating the memories of the storm by ensuring debris was quickly picked up from the curbs. The city, working hard to perform a myriad of tasks post-storm, encouraged us to notice that 4.5 months-worth of yard debris awaited pick-up by trucks that had limitations with workers who were already working deeply into overtime. That news was likely very unwelcome to some.

Just a few days prior to the storm, I'd booked a trip to Colorado and after a week post-Irma hopped on a plane headed westbound. My trip provided me with space and time to reflect. I had no idea how much I needed both. Given that life had mostly returned to "normal," I was amazed by how tired I was when I arrived. I spent no less than the first two full days of my trip in PJ's. Every time I thought of getting some work done, I opted to watch another old episode of Monk. (Anyone else out there who loves him??) 

The fatigue pointed to a larger perspective on the storm. My body wasn't ready to rush ahead. The achy, tired physical part of me was saying, "Hey there, stop for a while. Rest. Recover. You've just been through a big ordeal." But, the logical part of me was like, "That's over... You've gotten behind on all of the things! Time to get back to work!"

My Mom encouraged the rest. I felt like, "Are you crazy? Didn't I just get rest when everything shut down for a few days?" I may have also said something along these lines to her while omitting anything to do with crazy... You can see that it took me a while to take a deep breath, yes? But, she was right. My body was right. Even though we didn't experience the worst of the storm, everything leading up to it and the process of going through it meant something. Even if we didn't lose people or property, we lost productivity, some forms of connection, comfort, structure... And, our bodies needed time to grieve our losses.

Culturally, we're not very proficient in grief. We tend to move through it quickly and without much thought. This is a generalization, of course, but I have found it true in my experience with loss. We often don't identify our minor losses as pieces of death that we need to grieve, but we experience the fruit of burying them without gazing upon the face of what we lost. Agitation, impatience, anger, sadness, numbness, denial, exhaustion... Each of these showed up in post-Irma Orlando. I saw it on the roads, in the grocery stores, and in my newsfeed. What if we all took a collective deep breath, though? What would we notice? 

After soaking in 50 degree days and mountain air, I returned to Orlando. In the week or so since, I've taken a freshly infused joy in seeing the debris piled high on the curbs of my neighborhood. It's a reminder that it's okay to still feel the loss of control and comfort. It's okay to be tired right now. It's okay to take the days as they come and work hard but press more fully into rest. Browned leaves and tree branches remind me of those who have lost more than I have, too. I'm remembering how my love and time and resources are needed by others who are experiencing profound loss and need some hope. I'm not wishing the grief away today. I'm taking a deep breath and remembering what is important, what I need and who I am after seeing how I encountered my small losses.

And in the days to come, I'll focus on wrapping up this experience of loss. But for now, join me in taking a deep breath. The storm has passed. We are standing. Let's be willing to notice what it all feels like. Stay here for a while, won't you? Write, paint, draw, create a spreadsheet, share with a friend—be yourself—and employ your creativity to capture what it's like here.

Storms: Healthy and Hopeful

The calm before the storm has settled in and we've surrendered to the reality that it's coming. We have an important choice to make now. How will we weather it? The truth is, the only way beyond this storm is through it. Facing the storm and all that it triggers inside of us presents us with opportunities to grow and change. But, what does it look like to move through the storm in health?

Yesterday, I had the privilege of seeing and learning from one of my mentors at a training he was facilitating. Right before I left, he offered this bit of wisdom to the participants: "All transformation begins with personal transformation." I allowed his words to soak in again. I've heard them before and I genuinely need to hear them often because this truth is intricately connected to how we weather life's storms in health.

We will only move forward to the extent that we are willing to look at the unhealthy thoughts, feelings, and behaviors that exist in our lives in order to address them. Often, storms trigger symptoms of the root beliefs that keep us imprisoned in unhealthy patterns and habits. While many of us may be unaware of the exact triggers, we can begin to notice our behaviors that indicate we're not doing well. For me, I know I'm struggling when I'm...

• ...eating all of the sugar in sight.
• ...peeling my fingernails off (gross, I know!).
• ...having a hard time falling asleep.
• ...starting to become more judgemental towards others and offering less grace.
• ...cleaning my house incessantly.
• ...disconnecting from the people I usually want to spend time with regularly.

And, when two or more of these behaviors are in play, I'm in deep! When I'm able to see this, I have new decisions to make... How will I choose to understand why I'm doing what I'm doing?

Here are some of my personal strategies...

I phone or text or try to grab coffee with a friend. Chances are high that I need relational connection and when I invite a friend to help me process my experience, it typically helps me to gain a greater understanding of the symptoms and my root belief. Plus, it kills isolation and moves me back into community.

Getting out to get some exercise and perspective is another great option for me. Sometimes all it takes to get in touch with my thoughts and feelings is to actively create space to engage them. Being outside is a huge win for me, personally.

The other, more tangible, option to look into the root, is to sit myself down and write out the behavior and consider what I was feeling right before I engaged it. Sometimes, I have to look back over the last few days or the week. Once I identify the feeling or feelings, I look for the thought behind it. I write the thought (or thoughts) out so I can see them in black and white. I ask myself, "Is this true?" It's amazing how many thoughts actually aren't true. Though, often, they have a hint of truth in them which makes them all the easier to believe if I'm not paying attention. I then write the actual truth and practice replacing the old thought with the new thought whenever it comes up.

When I take the time to notice and address my thoughts and feelings, I notice I weather storms very differently. I engage these practices along the way, throughout the stages leading up to the storm, as well. It may feel tiring to consider looking into why we're feeling fear, anxiety, confusion, chaos and the like, but what is the alternative? Allowing these realities to rule us only makes it more difficult to make it through life's storms. But, the truth is, we have to practice and practice requires time and energy. 

Transformation doesn't necessarily happen overnight. Like most experiences in life, it is a process. But, the sooner we say "yes," the sooner we will experience the hardships and challenges in life with more peace and grace. After all, when one storm passes, we can be certain that another will develop on a future horizon—whether soon or distant. While this might be a difficult pill to swallow, we don't have to dread the coming storms. We can view them as gateways into deeper understanding, healing, and hope. We can live with positive expectancy—since we made it through the last storm, we have what it takes to weather this one, as well. And hopefully, we'll do so without befriending the things that steal life from us... 

So...

• How might you practice today? Whether you are in a storm, see one approaching on the horizon or are storm-less... Today is a good day to begin more deeply engaging your transformational process.
• What habits indicate you're in stress? If you're unsure, ask a trusted friend, spouse, colleague, or family member what they've noticed about you. The people in our lives often have incredible insight into our behaviors.
• How will you address your stress habits? Write out three ideas that will help you move out of stress when you notice that you're operating in it.

Need help? I'm always here and happy to come alongside you. Here's to weathering storms in health and hope from today forward!

Storms: The Quiet Before

Perhaps you've experienced it, too. The storm is soon upon you, but all around is calm. The flurry of activity required to prepare has ceased and as you look around, you realize you've done all that you can do. Now, you wait.

It's not that the waiting is easy, necessarily. Perhaps there's a tendency inside of you to move back into fear and anxiety, to worry about things you cannot control. The negative "What if's..." that we talked through last week might rear their ugly heads. Maybe you find a place of rest in the waiting. Still, the anticipation of the storm's arrival remains. For me, the calm before the storm has become a place in my life where I take a deep, deep breath.

My neighborhood was eerily quiet the morning before Irma arrived. Throwing on my sneakers, I headed out for a walk to get some fresh air and to see what was happening nearby. The lack of cars on the road was remarkable. The clouds swirled overhead and a notable breeze stirred tree leaves and branches into motion. All was quiet and calm. I relished the peacefulness, honestly. Irma was coming and there wasn't anything else I could do except await her arrival.

I felt so connected to my surroundings, aware of my feelings and alert on my walk that morning. It was like each cell within me was awake, taking notice of every detail. The air was cool and had a slight dampness about it. The construction near my house was put on hold and the tractors sat neatly on the lot ready for their next use. Police helicopters flew overhead capturing information from their bird's eye view, keeping all in check. 

In our culture, we don't often talk about surrender. If we do, it can carry a negative connotation. But I've been learning that as the storm approaches, surrender is one of the greatest postures I can choose. It's why I got out on that walk, actually. I realized that my preparation was complete and there was nothing left for me to do.

In surrender, I recognize what I can and cannot control. I choose not to worry about things that I cannot control. I activate the faith inside of me to tackle the fear I might experience. I rest—I actually choose to lay myself down knowing that all I can do now is ride out the coming storm. I get in touch with what is most important again. I remember that things can be replaced. I remember that I really won't know how it all turns out until the storm passes, but I can choose to weather it well. 

The calm before the storm affords me a wonderful opportunity to be. I get to relax into the quiet. I get to savor the sweetness of the space. Isn't it interesting how in the moments leading up to a storm, we experience a tangible stillness? I honestly believe this stillness exists to heighten our awareness of what's real and what's on the horizon. It's a place where we can see. So often, we do see the scary and the negative. But again, what if we focused on what we have and released what isn't within our grasp?

Last week, I flew out west and along the way I noticed thunderclouds gathering to form a storm. Their peaks were tall and beautiful. Sitting above them from my perch in the plane, I wondered what it would look like if we viewed storms from this vantage point consistently. What if we saw ourselves above them? What if we knew that even at their worst, we have the ability to rise above? We have the ability to choose this perspective in the calm.

So...

• What is the calm before the storm like for you?
• What do you notice about where your thoughts and your energy go?
• Do you find yourself at rest or reengaging with fear and anxiety?
• What would life look like if you viewed yourself above each storm that formed on the horizon? 
• How could this shift in perspective help you?

I'd love to hear your thoughts... 

Storms: Horizons of Hope

In the week or so leading up to Irma, I found it difficult to want to stay connected on social media. Words like catastrophic, monster, and devastating were being used to describe the impending storm. Fear was rising and spread like wildfire as people began to express their growing anxiety. With each new detail offered about the hurricane and the path it might take, preparation, evacuation and the safety of loved ones became a prominent focus. 

Offline, a friend's dad reported watching as a baker was delivering bread to the shelves of a local grocery store when he was rushed by a crowd, who picked the bread out of his hands before he had a chance to complete his work. News reports and social media posts showed stores emptied of water and lines of people waiting for resources that would help them to weather the storm. The perspective continually offered was one of lack—all of the build-up was incredible, honestly. 

It's not that it was a bad idea to stay informed and prepare for the storm. There's so much wisdom in doing what we know to be good and right when we have the means to see the storm on the horizon, after all. Personally, I had to limit my intake of the information and dialogue, though because panic and fear aren't life-giving friends. And, most of the news and the language used was positioned from those mindsets. Getting caught up in it seemed like a trap. 

When counseling and coaching people through fear and anxiety, I encourage them to let their thoughts go into the worst-case scenario. What if that terrible thing DID happen? How would you process through it? What would life become in the aftermath?

The truth is, there were some in our communities who experienced those very things. Our greatest fears about the storm and the damage it might cause became their reality. Perhaps we know these dear ones personally—their loss is unimaginable and we can now come alongside them in it. Perhaps we don't know them personally. While we might feel compassion from a distance, we may also feel thankful that it wasn't us... It's strange and messy to process through these complex experiences of grief and gratitude.

That said, most of us didn't experience our worst-case scenarios and I've been wondering where that leaves us as new storms will certainly emerge on the horizon in the future. Specifically, I wonder: 

• Did fear serve me? How?
• Did anxiety help me? How?
• What decisions did I make that left me without peace and hope as the storm approached?
• At the end of the day, did those decisions make my life better? Did those decisions make life better for the people I love?

I consider the same questions for the storms we are not prepared for in this life. When an unexpected storm is upon us, a different sort of fight or flight response is initiated for survival, but our choice to notice what's happening and live in fear and anxiety remains.   

In the past month or so, I've been adjusting my personal focus to the positive "What If's..."

• What if we make it?
• What if the damage won't be nearly as bad as the projections say?
• What if this is an opportunity for me to care well for the people around me?
• What if I bring peace into this scary situation? 
• What if the worst happens... And, what if this "seeing" is an opportunity for me to reconnect to what's most important right now?

As you look back at your experiences over the past few weeks, then around you to notice the storms you're currently facing, and finally, ahead of you, noticing the storms you see developing on the horizon, I encourage you to take stock of how you're processing through them.

Will you choose to befriend fear, anxiety, and panic?

Or...

Will you choose to befriend peace?

We really can maintain a hopeful view of the storm on the horizon, regardless of the anticipated outcome.

Stand Still in the Standstill

We sat facing each other in a not-so-busy salad spot. When it was my turn to share, self-professed external processor extraordinaire that I am, I blurted out all the questions and the doubts and the anxiety I'd been feeling. My friend, ever-patient and thoughtful, listened. When I finally took a long breath, she reminded me not to diminish the realities I have been facing, then shared how I'd just expressed what she was feeling in her own process. We laughed. She's as internal as I am external and I genuinely had no idea that her current experience was so closely relating to mine. I wasn't happy with the reality that she was struggling, too, but I sure felt thankful to know I wasn't alone. 

We went on to talk about the challenge to stay the course when faced with the ongoing uncertainties existing within this life in the in-between. She shared how she had recently been wondering what it meant to keep going when she didn't know that she could. I nodded profusely. Who wants to go back, right? But, how does one go forward when you feel like you don't know that you can? Then she offered this powerful realization she had recently:

"What if you just stand still?" 

We both teared up. Wow. What IF you just stand still? 

Standing still might seem terrible. I mean, aren't we supposed to make progress? After all:

Fake it till you make it. 

Don't give up.

Keep going.

At least these are the things I heard when I thought about making an intentional choice to simply stand still. And, there's merit to these thoughts. Sometimes, continuing to move forward through the challenges is the right course.

For instance, when she and I were standing in line to order lunch, I told her how I'm so not into eating salad or any green thing resembling salad right now. (And, I LOVE salad... I really do...) But, sometimes you eat the salad because you know your appetite will eventually catch up with what's good for you when you keep choosing it. When, like me, you're eating all of the sugar in sight (Jessica Bott Stress Behavior 101), there are times when you pull out a big leafy piece of kale from the fridge, wash it and eat it whole; or maybe you suggest that you and your friend meet to have lunch at the salad place, because that's what's good for you even though you don't want it. So, there's that...

But what if you're really at a standstill? What if you don't know that you can keep going, but you KNOW that you really don't want to go back from the place you've just left (or are leaving)? (...even if it would be so much easier just to go back and even if you really could go back.) 

Standing still in the in-between place isn't a declaration of failure. It's like a little pause. From this vantage point, we can swivel our gaze back in the direction from whence we came to remind ourselves that we don't want to go back. We can also look at what's in immediate proximity to us—we can notice what's real right here. Plus, we can continue to look ahead and contemplate where we're going. It's possible that we may just need a little breather to regain our courage and strength to take the next little step.

It's like mountain climbing. One summer a friend and I took a couple R&R days up in Vail after a conference we attended. Vail Mountain has this beautiful trail called Berry Picker and we set out early enough to tackle the climb and enjoy the view from the top before the afternoon thunderstorms would roll in. My life wasn't super great during that season and the 20-25 extra pounds on my body didn't make the experience easy for me. I can't count the number of times I had to stop on an incline to catch my breath, drink water and refocus. There were so many times I wanted to quit. I sent my friend ahead of me so she could enjoy the experience more fully without all of the rest stops. I remember feeling so much shame along the way.

I felt ashamed that I'd let myself grow so unhealthy.

I felt ashamed that I'd held my friend up along the way.

I felt ashamed that I couldn't do something well that used to come so easily for me.

I felt ashamed for feeling ashamed.

Have we talked about what a nasty and terrible "friend" shame is? We'll come back to that in the future. Suffice it to say, it was a hard day.

What I remember now about that experience, though is how I finished the hike. I didn't give up. I was slow and I was exhausted. BUT, when I reached the summit and took in one of my favorite views (as I laid on the ground panting as though my life depended on it, mind you), I felt hope. I experienced beauty. I reconnected with my friend and heard about her experience on the trail. When we took the gondola back down into the Village, I saw what I'd accomplished with fresh perspective. I'd climbed THAT mountain. The one right over there! It just took me a bit longer to summit, is all.

Have you been there?

Are you there now?

So...

Maybe like me, you've cut the tethering cord tying you to the consistent, safe place and you've already leaped from the cliff edge.

Maybe, like the friend I was having lunch with this week, you've lit the fuse and you're waiting for the big "boom" that's to come in the not so distant future.

In either case, maybe you just need to stand still in the standstill. The courage will come. The energy will return. You will regain your strength. You will move forward. When you can.

Instead of a list of questions this week, why not take a few minutes to be quiet. Listen to your heartbeat. Listen to your breath. Get in touch with your thoughts and your feelings. Remind yourself that it's really going to be okay. Somehow, some way, it will be. There is grace and there is mercy for you right here.

Life in the In-Between

Summertime throughout my childhood was marked by make-believe play, tv, drinking pop and afternoon thunderstorms. Mom and Dad both worked, and when we were old enough we were left in the capable hands of ourselves, under the supervision of my older brother. I have so many memories of those summers, but the thunderstorms stand out the most.

Day in and out, thunderheads would form high in the sky above us. The landscape would grow darker and darker as one set of menacing clouds joined another, forming one gigantic storm. The Rockies would change before our eyes, becoming less majestic and more foreboding. Then the thunder would begin with its powerful rumbles signifying the unleashing of the weather upon us. Bolts of lightning would light up the interior of the thunderheads and at times, shoot down beneath the cloud cover to strike where they may.  

Our German Shepherd would fight his way into the house and into the bathroom tub or down into the basement. He and I shared the same sentiment: "Get me out of here!" I'd run to the large window of our walk-out basement, facing the rolling range of the back acreage, to trace the line of clouds as far as my eyes could see to determine whether the familiar circular motion of a funnel cloud was forming or not. I'd watch the colors, hoping they stayed gray, free of the green haze that came from the atmospheric change signaling the possibility of a tornado.

When I caught a glimpse of a low, straight line along the cloud horizon that seemed likely to form a funnel, I'd run the 30 steps to my bedroom and prepare for the worst. Pulling my comforter, stuffed animals, pillows, Bible and a flashlight into my closet, I'd shut myself in and pray. Where were my siblings? I have no idea. I'd lose track of the reality that I wasn't physically alone, somehow. At the end of a storm, I'd resurface and trace the lines in the clouds, once again, to ensure all was safe. Life would go back to normal, on that side of the storm.

Growing older, I noticed how my posture towards these storms changed. In fact, I've grown to love and appreciate thunderstorms. There's something about the build up, the anticipation of the storm. When it comes, there's a release. The atmosphere shifts, often bringing cooler temperatures and a deep sigh. No doubt that storms can create damage, but this truth doesn't diminish the reality that there's something awe-inspiring about them. When they're over, I've seen how I have fresh perspective and appreciation for my life—just as it is.

I've been thinking a lot about storms as they pertain to our lives this week. We're standing in one piece of land for a time, then a storm moves through and gives us the opportunity to reflect on what we want, what we value. The aftermath has this way of revealing what we internalized in the middle of it, in the waiting. We see our lives and the land differently after waiting out a storm. 

Yesterday, a friend shared another metaphor with me— this one, involving archery. She shared how the arrow has to be pulled back to the place of greatest tension before it can be released in order to hit its target. When it's not pulled back far enough, it lacks the momentum required to make it to the bullseye. And, when a person isn't lined up correctly and releases the arrow too soon, it also results in a miss. Tension and timing are everything. 

Often, we don't want to experience the tension, or the storm for that matter. It's uncomfortable to stay put, so maybe we jump in too soon or hide away hoping it'll pass. Maybe we don't embrace the tension to the fullest extent because it's just too hard to stay in it. Mixed metaphors aside, today, I'm encouraging us to stay. 

New "seeing" awaits us on the other side of the storms we face in our lives. Perhaps we have the new ground in clear view, just ahead. Maybe we're wondering what it takes to cross the threshold, but we're experiencing the tension of being pulled back tightly in the waiting. We don't want to release the arrow too soon. We want it to hit the bullseye.

The waiting itself might seem like a storm. But, perhaps things aren't correctly lined up just yet. Wouldn't we rather wait so we might actually hit our target? Waiting can feel unproductive and painful. Believe me when I tell you that I live the reality of this truth regularly. I like to achieve and when I see the green lights in a direction, I'm ready to go. To be held back by a storm, or the appearance of a storm, feels awful. But, then I remember the beautiful aftermath... 

The air clears, there's a fresh vitality to the land and all of that build up created space for a wonderful release. Each time I take a step forward from this place, I really do experience gratitude—it's cultivated in me through the process. I find myself saying, "If only I had known..." 

So today, I remind you that you do know. You've been here before and you made it. It's not that you didn't struggle or that you walked away without being affected by the experience, but you lived. I think that's the point.

Life is full of tension and storms. What matters is our view of them and what we allow them to accomplish in us. We cannot take new ground in our lives without this tension and without the storms. They actually show us what we're made of and give us the opportunity to authentically live from that place by showing us what we really, really want. Not only that, but they reveal who we really are at the core.

So...

• Where are you experiencing a storm today? 
• What do you think about it? What do you feel about it? 
• What would it mean for the trajectory of your life if you willingly stayed the course through the tension you're experiencing there? 
• Will you?