On Purpose: Full of Joy

"Comparison is the thief of joy."

—Theodore Roosevelt—

Whether I like to admit it or not, I compare myself to other people daily. Social media makes it really easy, but so does real life. For me, I often notice: the way people carry themselves and what they might be feeling, who is listened to and who is ignored, the ways people spend their money based on what they present to the world (on-or-off-line), who gets the answer right, who gets the laughs, and who gets the attention. I also notice who is attached and who isn't. Who cares about their health, environment, the type of tribe they belong to and who doesn't.

My list goes on and on...

What's your list like? What would you include that stands out most about what you notice?

More than not, these noticings are subconscious and under the radar, but I've been making an effort to notice my noticing more and more over the years. It's quite amazing to gain an understanding of how much time and energy I actually spend comparing as I notice. Even more astounding, is the level of engagement these comparisons actually steal from the rest of my life.

It's not that noticing is bad. In fact, we learn a lot about how to respond to any given situation by noticing the people, place and the happenings therein. But when we process what we notice in a way that leads us to view ourselves as higher than another person or lower than another person, Cloud and Townsend call this positioning "one up/one down," we're in trouble.

First, it's a boundary issue. Each of us is made uniquely and therefore, offer the world a wonderful variety of thoughts, resources and personal expressions that make life richer for us all. Choosing to see someone as higher or lower than ourselves means that we're either diminishing ourselves or another. We're saying, on the one hand, "You're more valuable than me" or, on the other, "I'm more valuable than you." The truth is, every one of us is valuable beyond measure and comparison steals the beauty of the unique and necessary role each person plays in the world.

Second, spending time and energy comparing means we have employed those same resources in a way that produced well, what exactly?... Fear, anxiety, depression, pride, shame, isolation, and anger are on my short list. What about yours? How has that turned out for you?

Comparison has been a bad friend to me over the years. It has stirred up feelings of self-doubt, attacked my confidence, invited a belief that I don't belong, and more. Comparison has helped me build tall walls between myself and others. It has left me isolated and alone once those walls were built. Comparison has lied to me, telling me how I'm not enough, I'll never be good enough, or equally as terrible, that I'm better than... 

When I live with a posture to compare, I miss giving my all to living my purpose, on purpose. When I'm focused on what I have and don't have, I miss out on utilizing that cherished time and energy creating, cultivating and investing in people and projects that will move the vision and mission forward today. When I compare myself to others, I miss simply enjoying them for who they are! Instead of sizing them up, I could just be their friend. What a change that would be in the world...

The thing is, the world needs us to live on purpose and encourage those in our path to do the same! When we know who we're made to be and how we're to live that out, we can freely offer our gifts and talents to the world and create the solutions we so desperately need today.

And, I'll tell you what, joy is a natural by-product of a life lived on purpose. When we end that awful friendship with Comparison, the joy that flows out of us creates momentum in and around us. When we're focused on living our best life, we will embrace others for who they are and encourage them to do the same. We're not worried about being one up or one down, rather we're focused on making our very best contribution and automatically positioned to help someone else make theirs. 

So... In the past 24 hours:

• Have you compared yourself to someone else?
• Whom?
• What did you notice about them in the comparison? 
• What thoughts or feelings about yourself surfaced as you processed what you noticed?
• Were they positive or negative thoughts or feelings?
• What happened after you had the thought(s) or feeling(s)?
• Did it help you or harm you?
• Did it help them or harm them?
• What might this interaction have to do with living your purpose?

Let's move forward into a life of purpose and joy, shall we? I promise it's astonishingly lovely there. There's nothing quite like it, after all... 

On Purpose: Making It

"If you're not doing something you're passionate about, bring your passion into it."

—John Rivers—

A few weeks ago, I went to hear a local entrepreneur share his story on the journey into his purpose. My head ached a bit from nodding in agreement for the full hour—let's just say that I resonated deeply with his story. He shared poignant insights, including the quote above, about what it takes to make it into our purpose. It was so encouraging to hear someone who changed careers, after decades in his last, unpack how he landed right where he was meant to be. 

The main messages I felt freshly encouraged by from his talk were these:

• Often, we're motivated by realities that are in direct opposition to our actual purpose (e.g. money, security, incongruent outlook on success, etc).
• Learning ourselves takes time, but we may just find that we also know ourselves pretty well already if we're willing to take a good look in the mirror.
• Who we were in our childhood isn't so different than who we're meant to become as adults.

The truth is, we may not be currently living our exact purpose in the way it will unfold over the course of our lives. But, that doesn't mean that we cannot bring meaning and hope to our days. In fact, when we have clarity on what we're made for, we can actually inject that purpose right where we're living.

For example, when I was little I loved being with my friends, talking and looking pretty. I laugh at the latter because, well, what in the world? BUT, the truth is, a beautiful aesthetic is still of great value to me, both as a person and in the way I develop my surroundings. I love to be with people and hear their stories. It brings me joy to be helpful by seeing the people in front of me and drawing connections between who they are and how they matter to the world. People, conversation, and beauty are foundational pieces of my life today. And while I've developed a lot of clarity on my purpose over the years, simply having these three pieces of understanding to "run with" enable me to focus well in my days—they're a great launching point. 

We've talked before about the small steps it takes to achieve our goals and dreams. Living our life's purpose is not separate from this reality. We must start somewhere. Identifying what motivates and encourages us, what bothers us and what brings us life will provide a foundational understanding of where we're headed. And when we're striving for our more and taking care of ourselves along the way, we also must consider what is true of our lives in the present.

A great friend provided helpful advice for me in my early twenties. She said I ought to try as many things as possible in my career and curated experiences, in particular. It was time to explore and better learn about me. In my early thirties I had a much better understanding of who I was, but honestly, the wins and failures I'd experienced in my twenties taught me lessons that, in turn, soured my motivations. They became skewed by what I thought success should be in my life based on a pretty insecure foundation. I had these ideas of how I wanted to be viewed and what my contributions ought to mean to others. In the process, I really lost sight of who I was and who I wanted to become in vital ways. Good advice paired with an insecure me taught me a lot... 

Like John Rivers, I had an awakening but my path still wasn't clear. Over the past five to seven years, I've developed a deeper contentment with not knowing how it all turns out because I've learned who I want to be. I now know that I'm investing well in that bright future. Each step brings deeper clarity and understanding. Every new turn in the road feels like an adventure, not a new piece of uncertainty. 

My favorite phrase for my own journey has become this: Life is a great adventure! I say it as often as possible to remind myself of my choice in outlook. I've been learning to embrace what I don't know as an opportunity for learning and transformation. 

Truth be told, most days I mean it and some days are still hard. I find that no matter how happy we are about who we're becoming, from time to time we're going to encounter circumstances that challenge our contentment and hope. But, we don't make it into our purpose without challenges. We make it there by reminding ourselves of the truth and staying the course. (It also doesn't hurt to surround ourselves with people who tell us the truth on our dark days, too...) To do all of this, we have to know what the goal of the course is... After all, if we haven't defined who we're becoming, it's going to be hard to stay committed in the hard times.

And for the record, I really believe you're going to make it. I'm rooting for you. Please let me know when you'd like my help along the way.

So...

• Do you know what you were made for and what it will take for you to become that person?
• Have you ever thought about what you liked to do as a child and how that applies to life today?
• Are the current realities of your life aligned with who you want to be long-term?

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: 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: 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.

Redefine Success

Standing with my toes in the Atlantic this week, I looked out on the expanse of water before me and felt small. I walked over a mile to reach this particular stretch of uninhabited beach with high hopes that I'd experience this very feeling. Honestly, I needed the reminder... I needed to consider the truth that while I am small, I am not insignificant. And, nothing brings me into that head space quite like the ocean (or the mountains if they were easily accessible to me these days, but I digress). 

I don't know about you, but what I thought about that day and have noticed since is how maybe we're all fighting to be significant. If we look around at current events, I think we can see this deep longing in our society, too. Our motivation to matter is profound and this longing can lead us into life or into death. I think it's where the hustle mentality comes from, actually. We want our lives to count. We want to achieve and be known for something and help people and ensure our own needs are met in the process. And these desires can be quite beautiful. But maybe we buy into the story that, to be truly significant, we must have our freedom in every aspect. Money and respect and influence ensure we achieve it. So, we keep going because, if we stop or develop rhythms of rest, we may actually have to grapple with the things that feel undone or out of control or sad in our lives.

Success is often based on these nebulous ideas of influence and resources and how we're perceived on the outside. But I think that these cultural norms we tend to honor and hold in high esteem actually serve to diminish our dignity. If we're not careful, we can be swept up into the flow of culture that tells us that being significant means finding success using some pretty shallow guidelines. Even if we're not seeking the shallow nature of outward success, we must be attentive to the influence it has on our lives, decisions and the perspectives we carry with us. 

I've thought a lot these past few weeks about my story—past and present. I've thought about my dreams and my passions. I've considered how I have the opportunity to live my purpose every day regardless of how I'm making money to pay my bills. I've wondered what it means to serve and love people well right where I'm at and how I don't need a role or a title or a high paying job to accomplish these objectives.

I've reflected on some of the clients I've worked alongside and little pieces of work I've said yes to since leaving my career in the non-profit arena. Not all of the work has been glamorous or tied into my big picture dreams for my life. Often, work has looked a lot like simply showing up and doing what is needed. My perspective on the tasks I've accomplished was the key to ensure my work meant something that day. I would choose to carry hope into the place I worked because someone I'd interact with or meet that day needed some hope.

And in this process, one of the part-time places I landed involved working in a role heavy in customer service. I don't think one can know the depths of the entitlement mentality or the beautiful gift of dignity extended until we've engaged in a role like this one. It's amazing how quickly you learn how others view success in this type of environment. My compassion for people both matured and was challenged as I engaged with some whom, upon not getting their way, quickly turned to devalue and diminish me. Having no understanding or desire to understand my perspective, abilities, or experience I was held in contempt on multiple occasions. On the other hand and in the same place, I experienced delight and unexpected care from others who took time to time to know me as a person. What a difference our posture and perspective make. 

We are not made for common things, but our perspective on the things we give our time to and the people we encounter can make them common. We can buy into what culture deems as successful or we can literally work anywhere and with anyone and cultivate meaning and hope in our days. Some seasons in a place may be long, others may be short. What does it matter, though if we're all in? If our significance is not based upon what we do but founded in who we are and who we are becoming I think we'll be just fine. 

On a call today, I was reminded of a core belief of mine and a shared belief I have with this new friend: We are made for love and to offer love. If we make our vocation to love others every day of our lives, we become successful. In that line of work, nothing is beneath us. And that kind of success ensures a life that might be small, but a life that is genuinely significant. This is the beauty of life at rest.

So...

• What is your current perspective on what it means to be successful?
• Does that perspective bring you life? How?
• Is there any part of your current perspective on success that drains the life out of you?
• How does your view of success influence the way you view and treat other people?
• Do you currently experience your life as a life at rest?

Rhythms of Rest

Typing out that title and this post feel a bit ironic today. My past week has been anything but restful with work commitments, the wonderful wedding of a cherished sister-friend and loads of personal to-do's that remain undone. Can you relate? Reading that short phrase again, something wells up in me... Rhythms of rest. It is an invitation that offers me the opportunity to take a deep breath today and I invite you to join me.

Here's a little activity to engage for a few extended seconds:

• Breathe for three rounds of breath.
• Maybe even close your eyes. 
• Deep inhale; extended exhale. Again. Again.

Did you think of anything? What did that feel like? I found myself wanting more time there. You? 

I've been thinking about our dialogue about the hustle again this week and have added a new reflection to the mix. I find it interesting how we hustle, hustle, hustle and simultaneously live for the weekend. We count the days down until we're done—until we can rest or do something we really want to be doing—then we hustle some more. And maybe some of us who live with the hustle mindset never really wait for the weekend because we're still hustling when we arrive there. 

What do you think? Is that true for you or people in your life? If I consider my choices this past week, I fall into both categories. This led me to further consider my actual activities and where my decisions led me. Here's what I've uncovered:

• I'm physically exhausted.
• I'm behind on a lot of stuff and have questions about how I'm practically going to stay focused and organized in order to get it all done.
• I haven't set aside enough time for my spiritual practices and I feel a little wonky.
• I miss my friends and need good connecting points right now.
• I've allowed some of my time to be swallowed up in analyzing relational realities and unfinished business instead of creating solutions and taking action.

I encourage you to take a few moments to quiet yourself and jot down a few thoughts of your own.

• What do you notice as you consider your activities from this past week?
• If you could recap your week by describing any tension you might be experiencing in a single sentence, what would you say? 

I'd say: I'm so physically drained that it's hard to be present and get things done because I just want to sleep, BUT I feel tension about taking the time to sleep because I have so much to do! Gah!

Does that resonate with anyone out there? Even if your tension is different, I imagine it has something to do with what you think you need to do and what is actually needed. This can be a place where we get stuck and then maybe we keep hustling just to keep the hustle alive instead of embracing a mindset and rhythm of rest.

So here's a question to consider... Where will I make space in my daily life to uncover where my decisions are leading me? I can break it down further by asking myself:

1. What am I doing right now?
2. Why am I doing that?
3. Where is this decision/activity leading me?
4. Is what I'm doing right now getting me where I want to be?
5. If not, what step will I take to get there in the healthiest way possible?

Choosing to live in this way creates a posture that ensures I'm resting well into my decisions by living with intentionality in my little yes's and no's. These decisions extend into my thought-life:

• What am I saying yes to in my thoughts?
• What am I saying no to in my thoughts?

Every day we make agreements inside of our heads. Our feelings follow these agreements. Our actions follow these feelings.

• Where are your thoughts leading you?
• Do they lead to a posture of hustle?
• Do they lead to a posture of rest?

In the long run, I think we actually accomplish more by taking stock of our thoughts and the postures they create in our lives, making decisions from there. I have definite room for improvement as I consider my last week. What about you?  

The Hustle in the Hustle

I see it on coffee mugs and tank tops, memes and social media banners, and I hear friends say it day in and out: "Every day I'm hustlin'..." Our mantra, it seems. I've dialogued with others about this piece of our vocabulary and what it stirs in me for a couple of years now. I haven't known how to talk about it fully, but I've decided to try. This week, I received responses from a few of you on social media as you shared your thoughts on what the hustle means to you. Your perspectives were helpful! Here's what I heard you say about it:

"Doing what you need to do to get to your goal." 

"It is often associated with being opportunistic, having grit, and being responsible for making sure my goal is obtained. It is up to me, so I must do whatever is in my power to get done what needs to get done and persuading others to help me get there."

"Gotta do what I gotta do until I figure something else out."

"Hustle is working for what is good with the goal of what is best!"

"Stepping into what I need to, over and over again."

"The hustle will always be a thing!"

Do these ring true for you? What about the dictionary definitions for hustle? (Posted here.) What sort of a rhythm does the reality of hustle create in your life? If I'm honest, I've found this cultural phenomenon of "The Hustle" to be a difficult pill to swallow. Here's why...

The past 10 years of my story have afforded me a wonderful education in life rhythms. Certain seasons were so filled to the brim that my head was spinning all of the time with all of the doing. Other seasons delivered so much space to me that I'd wonder if I was adding anything meaningful to the world while I sat still, being. 

A worker bee by nature, the "being" was the harder part of the learning for me. I know this isn't true for everyone, but it took great intentionality, and quite a few years, on my part to develop a posture of rest. Workaholism plagued me in my twenties and early thirties. I was seeking to validate my existence to the world through my work. Finding remedy in the affirmations of others and their growing applause of my competence, I pushed myself excessively to continue conquering bigger mountains. And I loved it. I was good at it and even felt "alive" in it.

It's probably not surprising to hear, but I sort-of missed seeing my motive in it all. Of course, there were moments when I could feel that something wasn't right, but I trudged through those with a grittiness I'm amazed to remember I had (it's called adrenaline, by the way). But eventually, when I felt totally misunderstood, under challenged and exhausted—one can't live in fight or flight mode forever, after all—something had to give.

I broke down because quite frankly, I felt totally lost and had used all of my energy trying to prove myself. As I looked deeper, I uncovered a significant root need: to be valued and known and loved. I was trying to find love in all of the wrong places, or so the song goes... This seeing freed me to begin healing and set me on the long road back into genuine life. And healing meant that I had to come to terms with reality. I came to see how I'd been punked. The illusion I thought of as life was actually death and I felt this death profoundly.

For me, this never-ending cycle of hustle and the energy required to keep it up eventually gave out. It was one of the best things that ever happened to me. One truth I've learned in this process is that hustle, as much as it is actual activity, is also a mindset. And perhaps this is where I feel confronted by our cultural embrace of the experience. I don't typically hear us saying that it's just activity. I hear us saying that we just have to keep going, no matter what. But there are times when we just have to stop. And, if we don't, there's a good chance we'll be forced to stop by exhaustion, disease, broken relationships—you name it. This is what I mean when I say, "The Hustle in the Hustle." If my mindset is set to hustle, I will always be hustling.

I don't know about you, but I find that this mindset creates a terrible life rhythm. My firsthand experience has helped me to see that when I lived it, I was never really "off" and over time, this harmed me. In the coming weeks, we'll continue to talk about this mindset and look at some alternatives. After all, my hope for myself and for you is that we are people who live a WHOLE life.   

In the meantime: 

• Do you resonate with the hustle? What does it mean to you?
• What is the nature of your current life rhythm?
• What words or feelings might you use to describe it? Why?