Committed

Later this week I will have the privilege of facilitating a day-long meeting in Nashville, TN for a group of educators, all dedicated to advocating for and advancing STEM Education (Science-Technology-Engineering-Math) for Girls.

The core purpose of the meeting is Reinforcing Our Unbreakable Commitment to GIRLS in STEM Education. It is my honor to step in and help in this effort, and I can’t think of a better way to spend a day.

Ever since my dear friend and colleague Dr. Barbara Bell engaged me for this meeting, I have been captivated by the language she chose to clarify the purpose for the day. Reinforcing Our Unbreakable Commitment… While theirs is a commitment to girls in STEM Education, the idea of an unbreakable commitment is worthy of anyone’s consideration.

What is my Unbreakable Commitment?

As I ponder this question, on a plane bound for Nashville, here is my answer:

I have an unbreakable commttment to the following core beliefs:

~ We are all created in the image of God

~ We are all called to live our most authentic, whole-hearted lives.

~ We are all called to love, help, and heal the world that is within our reach.

How will I Reinforce My Unbreakable Commitment?

I am fiercely determined to live in a way that those core beliefs are evident to others. These beliefs need to be more than good words, because talk is cheap. They need to run through my veins, energize my actions, and inform my choices. While I’m pretty sure I’ll never get it perfect, I’ll never stop working to get it better.

I’ve shared these core beliefs before, and will continue to do so going forward. Not because I need to spread them far and wide, but because I need to stay close to them myself. When we give voice to what we believe, we are compelled to live those beliefs out loud.

What is Your Unbreakable Commitment?

How will you Reinforce  Your Unbreakable Commitment?

Onward.

Upward.

Together.

 

Prop The Door Open

“To realize one’s destiny is a person’s only obligation.”

~ from The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho

This morning as I was working out in the little gym in town, I opened the door to let in the  gorgeous view of the fall colors in the distance, some fresh autumn air, and a little more light. I was facing the door while lifting some weights, when a slight breeze picked up outside, and the door slowly and quietly began to shut. It stopped about two-thirds of the way, leaving only a third of the view, fresh air, and light.

I’d forgotten to prop it open with a rock.

It is safe to say that while I am squarely in the third-third of my life, there is still a lot out there that is mine to do. More words to write, more retreats to lead, more stages from which to speak, more clients to coach, more work on which to collaborate, more adventures with the love of my life, more time with the “littles” in our family, more time with those I love, and, more to discover every step of the way.

In order to make good on what is still mine to do, I have to keep the door to whatever that is open.

So do you.

An open door keeps our vision in front of us, breathes fresh air into our work, and shines light on our steps. But the door won’t stay open of its own accord. We have to prop it open with our rock-solid commitment to pursuing the good work to which we are called, the authentic, whole-hearted lives that we are here to live, and the people whose hearts we are here to love and to touch.

The door to the life that is ours can begin to close, ever so slowly and quietly, if we don’t remember to prop it open with a rock.

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To-Do or Not-To-Do?

“How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives.”

~ Annie Dillard

I’m a great list maker. Lists are my secret to success in a lot of areas:

  • Getting ready for a dinner party list

  • Packing for a trip list

  • Planning a wedding/birthday bash/ family reunion list

  • Costco/Trader Joes/New Seasons/Target run list

  • Christmas shopping list

  • Preparing for a keynote address or retreat list

  • Book off to the publisher list

  • Cleaning the garage list

  • Whatever-needs-doing-getting-done list

As you can tell, I love me a good list. Which is why I was intrigued by Dane Anthony’s recent essay to consider making a new kind of list. A To-NOT-Do list.

While the name of the list alone was enough to pique my interest, the name of the person who wrote it sealed the deal. Dane has a Spiritual Direction practice in which he seeks to create a peaceful and safe space for the soul to emerge, which he does by listening without agenda. Having engaged him as my Spiritual Director, I can tell you that this is exactly what he does. He is one of the most gifted listeners I’ve ever met, and because I’ve come to deeply trust him and our work together, I decided to trust in the wisdom of creating my own To-NOT- Do List. Dane’s work is rooted in the belief that we are meant to live an undivided life, with ourselves, others and God, and if making a To-NOT-Do List can help me get a little closer to that…well then sign me up.

Here are a few things that showed up on my To-NOT-Do List as soon as my pen hit the page:

  • Be complacent

  • Settle

  • Wake up and check ANY of my devices until after my morning ritual of quiet, reading,

    meditation, AND of course, my first sacred cup of French press coffee

  • Get lost in the menial at the expense of the meaningful

  • React out of fear

  • Make it all about me

If you are intrigued by the idea of a new kind of list too, read Dane’s thoughtful post below, and then see what words come out when your pen hits the page.

(Oh, and if you are intrigued by the idea of pursuing a Spiritual Director…think about putting that on your To-DO List.)


A To-Not-Do List

DANE ANTHONY //SELF CARE//10.03.18

I was taken recently by the question of what my “To-Do” lists really do for me? I’ve made them and crossed things off for years. There are seasons in which these seemingly helpful lists prove a profitable exercise; a place to deposit the endless undone things I must attend to. Certainly, they can be helpful in acknowledging things that are necessary and need my attention. In other seasons, these lists, or at least the propensity to create them, feel more like a perpetual exercise in all the things that are undone. It is as if they are frantically waving their arms to point to what I’m not accomplishing.  

What do my “To-Do” lists really do for me?

In conversation with someone the other day, I came to consider what would it be like to make a “To-NOT-Do” list – a list of the things I do not need to be doing. What on earth would a list like that contain? Might this list be one that offers me some needed permission to care for myself; to see myself as more than what I accomplish or cross off? Am I able to allow or consider things I don’t want to do apart from my inclination to be productive? Can I approach this list without a shame-motivation but from a desire for space and freedom and creativity?

Might this list be one that offers me some needed permission to care for myself; to see myself as more than what I accomplish or cross off?

A quick flash of what this list would look like might be something like:

To-NOT-Do:

Worry
Stress
Hurry
Be Co-dependent
Meddle
Judge
Rage
Argue

I don’t know what this would look like for you, but my list came to me pretty quickly, so I’m aware of my need for the gifts that not doing each of them would offer. It also seemed that I could find a lot of other things to put on this list that don’t appear here. What has kept me from making a list like this, I wondered?

It seems that the messages we receive culturally, and those we create internally, are often driven by shame that we need to accomplish or perform to be accepted, to be worthy, to be enough. 

It seems that the messages we receive culturally, and those we create internally, are often driven by shame that we need to accomplish or perform to be accepted, to be worthy, to be enough. That sure feels true for me when I look at my “To-Do” lists. I do NOT sense that when I look at my “To-NOT-Do” list above. This list feels like it has kindness present in it; an open space for me to engage with my desires and intentions, and with others as they are.

What might you have on your own “To-NOT-Do” list?

Rise and Shine

Recently I was lucky enough to spend a week at Rancho La Puerta in Tecate, Baja California, Mexico as a presenter. I was there to talk about the importance of "Trusting Your Own Magnet" - how to sense where life is calling you, and how you might get there.  My youngest daughter  Lauren came with me, and every morning we were up early, sitting out on the veranda with our sacred first cups of French Press coffee and setting our intentions for the day. Not surprisingly, our days unfolded with a sense of ease, space and grace.  It. Was. Glorious.

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But when someone is serving you beautiful, organic meals made from vegetables just harvested from the Ranch garden and prepared by people who pray over and bless the food before serving it, making your bed in the morning and turning it down at night, leading you in quiet meditations, massaging and herbal wrapping your body, and serving you just made smoothies... well... if my day didn't go well.... #suckstobeme.

One afternoon fellow presenter Lindsay Sherry, a certified nutritionist and holistic health coach, was sharing 8 Tips for Creating Your Best and Healthiest Life!. Tip number one, numero uno, at the top of the heap? Take time in the morning just for you. Her words rang true. The ones that resonated even more? If we're going to win the day, we have to win the first hour. Period. End of sentence. It's as simple as that, and as hard as it gets. Especially when you're not at a world-class health spa with gracious people attending to your every need.

Back home, in the midst of the magic and the mess that is my real life, with meals to cook and beds to make, laundry to do and bills to pay, relationships to tend to and emails to write, it's a little tricker. And yet those morning hours set the table for the rest of the day. They really do. And if I let the table get set for me (hello depressing news, toxic tweets, social media rabbit holes, hitting the snooze button - again, and fake food for breakfast) I shouldn't be surprised if my daily bread tastes stale. Thankfully I came home from the Ranch committed to becoming committed to winning my first hour. Currently, this is what that looks like:

  • Up at 5:30ish, hopefully after at least 7 hours of sleep
  • Out on the porch sipping Sleepy Monk French Press coffee out of my favorite  before 6:00
  • 20 minutes of meditation (or at least pretending to meditate)
  • A little inspirational reading (sometimes only time for a sentence or two)
  • Off to the gym for a workout

I wish I could tell you that I got it right every day. But I don't. I wish I could tell you that I was up to an hour of meditation a day and have found inner peace unlike ever before. But I'm lucky to get in that 20 minutes, and inner peace is a total crap shoot. What I can tell you is that I am learning to trust the practice and just get up and do it. I am finding a tiny sliver  of inner calm that I can access a wee bit easier. Rather than react, I'm a tiny bit more able to take a deep breath and a step back. With more time in the gym my energy is increasing as is my muscle tone. My morning practice to win the day is a work in progress, and comparing mine to that of anyone else doesn't help. I seem to be in pretty good company about that. In The Book of Joy, Archbishop Desmond Tutu dismisses his own morning meditation practice when compared to His Holiness the Dalai Lama's of arising at 3:00am for five hours of prayer and meditation. The Archbishop doesn't haul his sorry ass out of bed until 4:00am and then only manages to squeeze in three or four hours of prayer and meditation. Like Teddy Roosevelt said, "Comparison is the Thief of Joy." 

I've been a morning person for as long as I can remember. Apparently I arrived on the planet wired to get up before the sun does. But being an early riser does not a good day make. What we do when our feet hit the floor does. 

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Giving Up Labels For Lent

Labels get us into trouble. Labels separate us one from another, and keep us swimming in our end of the pool, safely out of splashing range of "those" people who might rain on our political, religious, socio-economic, and world-view parade. 

Labeling others is the practice of quickly categorizing another person or group into a box of our own making, and of our usually limited understanding. Labeling others is the easy way out. I know, because I do it all the time. 

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MARGINS

Today is my sister's birthday. This post is shared with gratitude for the best sister a girl could ask for. Thank you for teaching me about the need for margins. They make all the difference. And... Happy Birthday Margie!! Where would we all be without you?

The Need For Space

Imagine a book in which the pages have no margins, or a photo where the image fills the frame with no space in which to sit.  The empty space is as important as the rest.  For it is the emptiness in which the words fill the page, the art the canvas, the photo the wall.  Without it the power of the words and beauty of the image is lost. Or at best, diminished. In order to be fully there, they have need of some  space.  So do we.  We have need of margins in which our lives can reside.

And yet.

The urge to fill my time with doing feels relentless, the willingness to simply stop and rest like a foreign language. Doing means I am getting somewhere. Doesn’t it?  Or in the constant going am I spinning my wheels, and in the doing am I coming undone. The ancient text says there is a time to work and a time to rest.

And yet.

How to find time in the midst of days that seem too short, calendars too full, the very real needs that press upon us, and the list that never ends? Like most things, it starts with one thing. Getting up thirty minutes earlier so as to linger over that first sacred sip of coffee.  (A no brainer.) Arranging my days more carefully. (Effort required) Shutting the door for thirty minutes of solitude in between meetings. (Often impossible)  Or maybe just five. (Usually doable)  Saying ‘no’ just once. (Scary at first, f-ing liberating as skill develops)  Not answering the phone just because it rings. (That’s an option?) Disconnecting from the internet so as to log on to my inner one. (Learning to surf all over again)

In order to write our stories well, to make something lovely of the lives we have, space is required. Margins can be as expansive as a silent retreat or sabbatical, as far away as a remote island, as close as a walk around the block, or as brief as a deep breath.

Where might a bit of space exist that is there for the taking?

Photo by Tom Pierson

Photo by Tom Pierson

First posted in September 2014 on Matters That Matter

When NO means YES

My new issue of Real Simple just came in the mail. It is one of my favorite magazines, as it really does provide ideas for keeping life both real and simple. Especially during the month of December when living up to the holiday  hype feels unrealistic and complicated. The theme for the issue, as we head into a new year is "Say Yes To Saying No." Those sound like marching orders a lot of us could relate to. And, the theme reminded me of an earlier blog I first posted on Matters That Matter. It takes a slight twist on the Real Simple theme, and, as one year winds down and a new one is about to begin, it seems like an idea worth a bit more reflection. What is waiting for your resounding YES? What could use a quiet but firm NO? The answer is usually real simple, but rarely real easy.

In the spirit of keeping life real simple, here was my take a couple of years ago.

My cell phone rang as Kristine and I walked back to the conference center to facilitate another workshop at the retreat. Gathered at a beautiful resort in Woodstock, NY, the woods ablaze with fall colors, it had already been two days of connection and inspiration, new friends and new ideas.  The workshop was one of our favorite topics, a best seller with clients, always a crowd pleaser, resulting in powerful insights for all.  Starting of course, with us. Since as everybody knows…”You teach what you need.”

With a few minutes to spare, and seeing that the call was from a client, I decided to answer. “Hey Molly. We’re in a big bind.  The person who was going to facilitate the Leadership Experience can’t make it.  Would you be able to do it?  It starts the day after tomorrow.”  Immediately I knew the answer to that question….

A vehement “No!”

As in…

Hell No!

Never!

Not on your life!

That kind of No.

While certified to facilitate the experience, I had yet to actually do so.  Not only that, it was going to be with a senior global team, and the facilitator they had really wanted was obviously not me. He had more experience, and was clearly their first choice.  Stepping into a big arena, trying to fill big shoes, coming in at the last minute, with people who expected someone else, felt like a recipe for disaster all around. Besides that, getting an earlier flight out would be almost impossible due to our commitment to the current retreat.  There was one other tiny little detail. I was terrified.   Afraid that I couldn’t do it, wouldn’t meet the high bar set by the group, and couldn’t measure up to their expectations, I respectfully declined, politely thanked him for thinking of me, wished him the best of luck, and hung up the phone, filled with relief.  Except the relief kept getting pushed down to make room for something else.

Regret.

My reasons for saying no were logical.  It  made perfect sense.  Still, I had the sense that I had just let myself down.  Imperfect as my facilitation might be, was it possible that I was the perfect person for the job, and it the perfect job for me?

It was time for the retreat workshop to begin.  Stepping up to kick it off, I couldn’t get that phone call out of my mind. Thankfully, Kristine stepped in and masterfully led the group through the first exercise, allowing me to clear my head of my swirling thoughts.  In saying No to the request, I was saying Yes to my fear.  In answering No to a big challenge, I was opting for a Yes to playing it safe.  Just then I heard Kristine as she continued leading the participants through the exercise, asking them to complete the statement: “If I had the courage, I would………

Oh, did I forget to mention that the topic of our workshop was COURAGE? Oops.

Heads bent over their journals, the participants began to write down as many ideas for completing that sentence as they could.   As they finished writing, I stepped back in front to lead them through some reflection on what they had just discovered. Looking into their faces and seeing their courage, they led me back to my own.

As soon as our workshop was over, I called the client back.  “Yes.  I’ll be there.  To be clear, this will be the first time I’ve actually facilitated it, and I won’t have time to review any of the materials.  If flying by the seat of my pants is ok with you, I’ll change my flight and be there.”  It was a powerful Yes that began as an overwhelming No. Rather than disaster all around, it turned into a blessing for all concerned.  Starting of course, with me. Instead of a miserable failure, it was a mighty success. Starting of course, with me.

Now when I experience a knee-jerk “No!” and want to run the other direction, I pull up my boot straps and start walking the scary trail toward Yes.

When our first response is No, can we find the courage to search for the deeper Yes?

When desperate to scream No, can we find the strength to whisper Yes?

When it feels safer to say No, can we brave the waves to Yes?

Yes.  We can.

No.  it isn’t easy.

And Yes. That means we are on the right track.

In Remembrance Of...

 

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