A Case for Writing

To grasp, explore, prepare, vent, think, drill down, uncover, prove, divest, wonder, curse, experiment, assure, answer, express, cure, hope, examine, remember, discover, reclaim, glimpse, capture, spew, wax poetic, record, penetrate the air, converse, play, relax, release, save, redeem, unwind,reveal, unearth, prevent (mental breakdowns,) pretend, humor yourself, invent, imagine, sweeten, meditate, offer it all up, let go, embolden, grow, empower, engage the senses, perform, uncover, recover, heal, breathe, enliven, apply knowledge, determine, prevent a fight, preserve a memory (or a person,) talk to yourself, ruminate, dissect, enrich,  assemble, argue, compose, articulate, love, honor, find compassion, fuel up, gear up, pronounce, announce, survive, divulge, intercede, pick up the pieces, fathom, tell a story, play with words, tweak, find yourself, toss around ideas, create characters, solve a problem, paint a picture, listen to yourself, create yourself, demand, declare, decide, forgive, forget, embrace, coax, laugh, leverage, make connections, solve, find peace, find your voice, pay lip service, sass all you want, salvage, enjoy, live vicariously,dip your toe in, mess around, test the waters, gather evidence, build a case,solve, ameliorate, negotiate, savor, celebrate, give thanks, repair a broken heart, take responsibility, throw down the gauntlet and have fun doing it.

Cracking the Moronic Code

I've decided that my husband and I should not be allowed to put children to bed, due to the fact that we essentially turn into morons after 7pm. Sometimes it takes us so long to put each child to bed that we find ourselves eating breakfast once they finally get to sleep, since it's practically dawn anyway.

While this last part might be a bit of an exaggeration, our children's nighttime routines were indeed stretching into the precious hours of our parent-only time, making us wonder if this bedtime behavior was normal.  I therefore began asking fellow parents what time they put their kids to bed. Unfortunately, I received answers that shook me to my mother-lovin' core.

"7:30" was the first answer given.

Hmmm. I asked them to repeat that answer because surely they misunderstood me.  I was certain they thought I'd asked what time they ate dinner.

Nope, it turned out they heard me just fine.  All of their children- even the oldest, age 9, is in bed by 7 freakin' 30.

I was shaken because I'd been expecting a validating response like, "Oh, Lord, bedtime???!!!! It takes us FOREVER to get Precious Georgina and Little Lukey to bed. We are sooooo exhausted every single night!"

So, since I was not getting the validation I was looking for, I decided to do the right thing and ask someone else. Someone who might be more, you know, normal, like us.

And wouldn't you know it, the next parent I asked said the same thing: 7:30. Seriously people!

Not backing down for one minute, I asked yet another two parents and the answers were only slightly better: lights out at 8. Maybe 8:30. One said 9:00, but only on a special occasion, like Halloween, when candy consumption has them dancing on the ceiling.

That's when I began to get the suspicious feeling that we were doing something terribly wrong. Why couldn't we get our children to sleep at a decent hour? Were we complete imbeciles when it came to the night time rituals?

I consulted several pediatric sleep books with titles such as Bedtime Made Easy! Twenty Simple Strategies Even Morons Like You Can Do , but they all contradicted one another, which is why I always dread reading books on raising children: every author professes her method is the only way to successfully guide children to adulthood without failing miserably.

So at my son's annual check-up my husband and I decided to ask the pediatrician what sleep times the children should be getting. The doctor's answer confirmed that while our kids weren't really too far off on their ideal sleeping times, it was enough that they did need more than they were getting. And, most importantly, we learned that we were being majorly played by our offspring. She gently explained to my husband and I that our children were basically taking advantage of our soft spot for together time at the end of the day: reading stories, telling stories, cuddling, asking questions, etc. etc. etc., so on and so forth.

Now, lest you, the reader, think this comportment is sweet and endearing, please understand that it does, in fact, mimic the behavior of ravenous lions preying on helpless, unsuspecting gazelles.

"Oh what a lovely day, Boris,
perfect for meandering through the meadow..."

"That was almost too easy, Sis."

My husband and I have since cracked down on the bedtime nonsense; however, the lions are persistent. Every night we have to keep things moving, otherwise everything will drag out and mom and dad will get frustrated and frazzled and the children will get crabby and ugly everyone will be a big ole mess.

I only mention this ongoing battle in my own little suburban animal kingdom because I'm trying to point out the following:

It's human nature to want things we do not, in any way, need. 

We stay up too late watching TV. Or reading. Or, as The Artist Formally Known As Prince would say, partying like it's 1999. Then the next morning go to work feeling like we've been hit by a semi.

Or perhaps we drink too much coffee or throw down one too many donuts, skip the exercise and treat our bodies like they are mere transporters of our brains.

Then we wonder why they won't work the way they're supposed to.

Everyone has a vice (or five) because we often want what we don't need. But while we can never expect ourselves to behave perfectly, (and nor should we, right? We gotta enjoy life!) there is something to be said for tuning in and recognizing when our minds and bodies are telling us to slow down, or rest, or to rethink how we work and live. We can divert our focus to an activity or food that will nourish us. We can do things in moderation. We can adjust our way of handling stress and stressful people and we can ask for help when we need it. We can make choices, every single day that allow us to push ourselves to do better.

Not necessarily flawless, but at least better.

So now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go share these sentiments with the lions. 'Cause in 12 hours it'll be bedtime and I know they'll be hungry for stalling tactics.

Photos: Creative Commons, Wikipedia, Edupic

Instrumental Learning

A New Language

I'm finally doing something I always promised myself I'd do: 

I'm learning how to play piano.

I'd never taken any instrumental lessons in my life, only voice, and I thought it was about time I tried, even if I was in my 40's.

I suppose this later-in-life artistic self-expression has been passed down to me genetically. My paternal grandfather, "Paw Paw", as we grandkids called him, took up painting at age 80. He was a meat cutter and grocery store owner for several decades before he retired in 1970.

One of Paw Paw's first works

But one day, in between leisurely golf games and hanging out with my sweet grandmother, "Rita", in their tiny and inviting South Florida cottage, Paw Paw decided to give painting a go. And paint he did, converting their garage into a studio filled with easels, canvases, tubes of acrylic paints, brushes, and mixing trays. He even went so far as to fashion his own frames out of reclaimed wood, long before using reclaimed wood was über cool, mind you.

(Full disclosure: I'm positive he never once used the term, "reclaimed." His description was probably more along the lines of, "found", as in, "Hey look, Rita. I just found these ol' pieces of wood on the side of the road. I'll bet I can use them for a frame.")

Now dozens of Paw Paw's paintings- framed, mind you- are hanging in homes scattered all over the country, divvied up between his kids and grandkids. And yes, I did indeed say "dozens": he lived to be 97, and enjoyed 15 solid years of painting during his twilight years.

While my grandfather had no reservations about starting something 40 years past 40, I'll admit to possessing a pesky little naysaying voice. It likes to hang out on my shoulder when I sit down to play, whispering disparaging remarks such as:

"Music lessons are expensive. Shouldn't I only be paying for the kids to learn something new?"

or

Shouldn't I be working?

and

 How can this feel so satisfying? You know, like I'm accomplishing something? Accomplishments should, by definition, further my career, right?

 Chinoiserie detail on piano,
by Amanda de la Colina,
my maternal great grandmother,
who painted this piano well past her 40's.

Thankfully, the notes quickly drown out those pervasive "should's", leaving me completely engrossed in my own little musical world.

Playing an instrument, I've discovered, is an incredibly fun and constructive activity to incorporate into my days of working and parenting. For one, playing allows me to exercise my brain in an entirely different way than I'm accustomed to. Not only am I speaking a different language, that of notes and intervals and rhythms, I'm forcing myself to use each hand for a separate task.

Coordination of left and right brain hemispheres?

Oh. Yeah.

For those who don't play, allow me to explain: the left hand typically covers the bass clef and the right hand the treble clef- which means I have to simultaneously perform two different activities. (Kind of like patting your head with one hand and rubbing your stomach with the other.) However, thanks to muscle memory, the more I practice, the more my hands just "remember" and I find I'm more easily able to split focus between my right and left hands.

Apparently, I'm hardly imagining the mental stretching taking place. Many studies have shown the cognitive benefits of playing an instrument, from brain stimulation to specific motor control and coordination to positive effects on the aging brain. In fact, the analytical and emotional complexities of piano performance alone allow for the brain to efficiently challenge its plasticity, according to neuroscientists.

Ruth Silk, watercolor
My maternal grandmother painted the above at age 60 +

But countless studies aside, beginning a new instrument quite simply triggers a playful sense of letting go and being okay with making mistakes. And many mistakes doth I make, since I am, most assuredly, a beginner. And one of the ummm... let's just say, more mature students.

Before and after my lesson, young, Dr. Seuss-loving tykes skip in for their weekly lessons, swinging their little piano bags merrily behind them as they plop down on the piano bench- which, by the way, is scooted in all the way so their feet can graze the pedals. And thanks to a great teacher, many of them sound incredible, their nimble little fingers gliding along the keys with ease. And yes, listening to them feels a trifle humbling. But most of the time it feels good to be a beginner again, or, more specifically, to allow myself to be a beginner again; the hope of improvement stretched out before me in a vast, promising horizon. I look forward to the time when I will actually start to make beautiful music that sounds more, ummm... let's just say, accomplished.

Take time to take pictures.

What about you? When was the last time you invested time in yourself for the sole purpose of growing your mind and body? For the singular objective of enriching your mental, creative and/or physical well-being? Even if it means going back to being a beginner again?

And what if you were to go crazy and give yourself permission to monetarily invest in yourself?  Whether it be acquiring a new camera, booking a weekly yoga class, or taking yourself to the movies on Sunday afternoons, you will help to satisfy your mind's instinctive hunger for knowledge and expansion. (Dare I add that it may even feel revolutionary!)

If Paw Paw were still with me, I'm sure he'd agree. No fancy research required.

Summer Reading

 

At long last, summer is upon us. 

In honor of lazy days and time for reflection, I wanted to put together a list of books you might consider for your summer reading. For the past few months, as I detailed in a recent post, I've been in search of inspiration-filled books, such as Lynne Twist's The Soul of Money, that seek to reframe one's mindset from a place of deficiency to a place of appreciation. 

I shared my quest for inspiration with several friends and family and they in turn responded with the book titles you see below. All of these books have one thing in common: they've all made a positive difference in the way they view their lives. 

Feel free to let me know what you think of these and any other recommendations. I can't wait to read each and every one of them!

-Katie

A More Beautiful Question by Warren Berger

Animal, Vegetable, Mineral by Barbara Kingsolver

Honeymoon With My Brother by Franz Wisner

Never Check E-Mail In the Morning by Julie Morgenstern

Thrive: The Third Metric of Redefining Success and Creating a Life of Well-Being, Wisdom and Wonder  by Arianna Huffington

The Power of Intention by Dr. Wayne Dyer

The Total Money Makeover  by Dave Ramsey 

Give and Take: Why Helping Others Drives Our Success by Adam Grant

The Power of Now by Eckhart Tolle

The Secret by Rhonda Byrne

Always Looking Up: The Adventures of an Incurable Optimist by Michael J. Fox

How to Bring an Island Home with You

The crazy thing about staying on an island is that you discover the beauty of space. Especially when you are on a particularly small island.

That may sound paradoxical, but it makes perfect sense to me, perhaps because I'm a woman who:
1. loves islands
2. discovered she needed some space.

Now, I always knew that I loved islands, especially the tropical ones.

But what I didn't know- at least not until I stayed on Sanibel Island for 10 glorious days- was that I sought space. I know that now because when I came back home, I immediately began missing that space.

  

Surprisingly, I didn't find I missed the physical space I'd inhabited- the warm, sandy beaches, the gentle waves of the Gulf, the salty air that felt so good on my skin- as much as I missed the mental space.

In fact, the morning after we returned home, I immediately felt squeezed for that space. I had no room to think and to just concentrate on one thing to its completion. I began to feel stressed and overwhelmed with equally pressing tasks, wondering where that "purity of intention" disappeared to, as Anne Morrow Lindbergh referred to in Gift From the Sea.

And, most importantly, how about that "enough" mindset that I myself wrote about just a couple of weeks before we left? Where did that go? I knew that coming back from vacation was always tough- for everyone- but I thought this time would be different somehow, since I'd really felt centered when I left for Sanibel. But apparently it wasn't to be. The Monday After Vacation was kicking my behind.

And I hate losing, especially to a Monday.

But after a couple of days of putting out fires and spinning my wheels with junk that all seemed to be equally important, I realized that I'd forgotten the subtraction part of the equation. I realized that this piece of the puzzle, the heavy-handed, almost ruthless prioritizing, has to come first or there's no room for mental space to exist.

It just took me 'til Thursday to realize that, which is not bad, I suppose. But hopefully next time Monday will be easier to tackle.

(If someone could just remind me that would be great.)

Vacation Space

Going on vacation- a good vacation, that is- automatically subtracts all of the non-essential details from our lives for us, limiting distractions and igniting our ability to be fully present. After all, on vacation we possess only the bare minimum of things we need, all of which can fit in the space of a suitcase. (Granted mine was rather large, but still....)

We give ourselves permission to linger instead, and notice what our family is doing, what nature is doing,

and, ideally, we even notice how we ourselves are doing, physically, mentally and spiritually. 

But what happens when we come back from this vacation? That suitcase of bare essentials gets unpacked, and is matriculated back into a world filled with too many non-essential distractions. Which is why most of us dread that Monday After Vacation: we become acutely aware of all of those distractions that had been pronouncedly absent when we were living fully and simply on our little island.

Creating Space

Not being one to give up a good fight, I decided to battle that Return-From-Paradise onslaught head-on. I was determined to bring some of that "vacay" mentality home with me.

So, in order to recapture my less-is-plenty mindset, I started subtracting. I ruthlessly unsubscribed to insignificant email lists, promotional garbage and arbitrary social media updates (there were far too many to count.) I postponed some non-pressing activities to a time when I could better prepare for them. I deleted all of the little STUFF (a better four letter word exists but I won't use it) that had been building up in my day-to-day living but which had gone unnoticed until it disappeared for 10 days.  Then, with all of this build-up gone, I again re-focused on the most important goals in my business and in my personal life.

And, you know, it felt really good! Almost as good as a day at the beach.

So, What Truly Belongs In Your Suitcase?

Why not create your own mental island of intentional, peaceful living? You could start by subtracting those trivial things that are big on distraction and little on payoff. I'm not talking about the challenging, important responsibilities critical to your livelihood, family and health. I'm talking about those meaningless distractions that hinder rather than propel your work or life forward.

And what will you do with all that mental space that's now freed up?

Here are some ideas I came up with while lingering a bit: 

Relish sweet moments.

Stare at a bird.

Reflect. 

And notice reflections.

 

Find inspiration  

in color

and interesting textures. 

Find shapes in cloud formations...

and watch the sun melt into the horizon.

Island Time

It's not easy, cutting back or saying "no" or ditching things you aren't absolutely sure about ditching. But I think it's essential. We need mental space or our bodies and brains start to revolt. And the only way to guard and protect this space is to set up protective barriers, and build in margins of time that surround our most treasured activities. Otherwise, our priorities get washed away with the tide of daily living.

I urge you to try it: build in "island time" to your life and discover the great things that happen. 

This dude's definitely built in some island time.

Island Wisdom

My family and I recently returned from a fantastic vacation spent on Sanibel Island. More pictures shall soon follow, but I thought it appropriate to first share a quote from Anne Morrow Lindbergh's Gift from the Sea, a book I return to year after year when I want to reclaim a sense of serenity. 

A little background: Ms. Lindbergh wrote this book while she was staying in a tiny beachfront cottage on Captiva Island (which neighbors Sanibel Island) back in the 1950's. I love the book's simplicity and, of course, its inspiration: a sea that almost magically washes millions of intricate shells to shore. Lindbergh eloquently uses these shells as metaphors to describe the varied phases of a woman's life.

Decades after this book was originally published, the little islands of Captiva and Sanibel, I'm happy to report, remain wonderful places to go shelling. Most importantly, however, Ms. Lindbergh's insights into life, solitude and relationships are still incredibly relevant in 2014.

Here is one of my favorite quotations:

“...I want first of all... to be at peace with myself. 

I want a singleness of eye, a purity of intention, a central core to my life that will enable me to carry out these obligations and activities as well as I can. 

I want, in fact - to borrow from the language of the saints -to live 'in grace' as much of the time as possible. I am not using this term in a strictly theological sense. By grace I mean an inner harmony, essentially spiritual, which can be translated into outward harmony...” 

-Anne Morrow Lindbergh

Gift from the Sea

Photo: Creative Commons via Flickr.

Deepak Chopra: Our Bodies

I recently stumbled across this inspiring article from Deepak Chopra, MD. A practitioner of integrated medicine, Dr. Chopra discusses the benefits of seeing the body as a system vs. a machine, which is the current model we and the medical community at large tend to embrace. 

Whatever your opinion of integrated medicine, I think you'll find the following exert an interesting perspective. As described below, the system model Chopra advocates for comprises both the mind and the body, which, in my opinion, brings us the most comprehensive satisfaction in life. 

He writes:

"Instead of seeing the body as a machine that, like a new car, must deteriorate over time, we should see it as a system that learns, adapts, and improves over time. In short, we need to let the body take care of us, for that is what it's actually doing. The one thing this amazingly self-sufficient system needs from you is better input. A host of things constitute better input:

- Whatever makes you happier.

- Being more relaxed and accepting.

- Strong self-esteem, a sense of worth.

- Being of service to others, giving.

- Showing generosity of spirit.

- Loving, nurturing relationships.

- Any activity that makes you feel light in mind and body.

- Taking time to play, and having a playful attitude.

- Not stressing out other people.

- Devoting yourself to projects that have real meaning and purpose.

- Being self-aware.

- Expanding our awareness. Growing and maturing from the inside.

- Being comfortable with your inner world.

- Working through negative emotions like anger, envy, and fear.

- Self-acceptance.

- Reverence for Nature.

- Faith and a belief in a higher power, whatever that may be.

As you can see, almost none of this is advice you will hear in a doctor's office, and much of it goes far beyond standard prevention, which is based on risks. Of course it's good to avoid risks, but thinking in terms of what can go wrong induces fear, and fear is a very poor motivator over the long run. Becoming happier and more fulfilled day by day is a much better motivator, and as you can see, a systems approach expands our conception of the body to include everything that is mentally, psychologically, emotionally, and spiritually fulfilling. That’s the ultimate reason to embrace the new systems model as far as I'm concerned."

So, how can you better your "input" today?

Blazing Your Own Trail

While I was a graduate student here in Washington, DC at the beginning of the new millennium, I drove daily along the battered end of North Capitol Street, where you could see the beautiful dome of The Capitol Building straight ahead, in the distance, just as you passed by the bullet proof glass protecting the Kentucky Fried Chicken Drive-Thru. 

Then, after turning off North Capitol Street onto D Street, I'd approach a crazy intersection that seemed to go in about 10 directions. That intersection was surrounded by abandoned buildings and scrappy little patches of grass (I absolutely wouldn’t call them lawns) where no one seemed to inhabit, save for the rose sellers or beggars who’d try to get you to roll down your window and give them hope in the form of loose change.

Now, like much of the revitalized District, the area is built up with steel corporate high rises replete with gleaming mirrored windows, luxury apartments and über hip fitness centers. But at the time of my trek to and from school, this confluence of roads couldn't be described as anything more than an urban eyesore. 

So it was no surprise that the one thing that stood out among this barren urban crossroads was a brightly painted message along the side of one crumbling, abandoned building:

“Do Not Follow Where the Path May Lead.  

Go Instead Where there is No Path and 

Leave a Trail.”

Now, you have to remember that this time period predated the proliferation of motivational quotes on Tumblr, Facebook and Pinterest, so I wasn't yet desensitized to the power of a pithy quotation. Instead, it truly intrigued me, and, more often than not, haunted me.

The anonymous graffiti artist didn't include the author of those words, but I soon discovered through research that it could be attributed to American poet and writer Muriel Strode (b. 1875.) I drove by that quote almost every day for three years, and each time I'd wonder what kind of trail I wanted to leave, and, more specifically, how I would leave it. Would it involve acting? Directing? Writing? Teaching? Or something else entirely?

It took me a few more years before I understood what kind of trail I wanted to leave, which, as you know, ended up falling mainly in the "something else entirely" category. And to this day that trail is always evolving and expanding, keeping things interesting. I'm constantly asking myself questions such as, How do I take my coaching practice to the next level? Make it more nuanced? How do I best deliver my service in a novel way? Who needs my career services the most? Will I need to carve out my niche market more intricately?

Even with these ongoing uncertainties, I can't describe how good it feels to have cracked the code, so to speak. It's wonderful knowing that my sweet spot lies in coaching; that I use some of my most valuable talents- that happen to be non-performing ones- to make a difference in others' lives. And, in that coming full-circle kind of way, I like the fact that my "trail" involves helping others blaze their own.

(Here's where I'm going to boldly imagine that Strode would've been pleased!)

I won't lie and say it's been easy; far from it. It has taken due diligence and a hefty sense of self to figure out what kind of path to create. And, undoubtedly, I couldn't have done it alone. Reaching out to others made a turn-of-the 20th century writer's words come to life for me. I realized that in order to create my own unique, individual path I needed the power of collaboration. While that may sound ironic, it actually makes sense given the communal nature of the creative process. And what is the process of designing our own career paths if not a creative one?

Ultimately, yes, it is our own creative hand that paints our life's legacy; however, we can always use the wisdom and support of others to inspire our creations. Seeking guidance is different than following footsteps; we're allowing the paths and knowledge of others to inform our choices, to navigate our way through obstacles, to help us design our own exciting, personalized paths.

Interestingly, the following is Strode's prequel to the above quote, which allows us to see the author's journey in arriving at her conviction to "leave a trail."

"I longed to build as you had builded, but I knew that your joy lay in the conception of your own design. 

I longed to follow where your feet had trod, but I had watched your exhilaration as you felled a new way.

I longed to do that thing you did and be that thing you are, but I knew life's complement was yours because you were yourself."

My Little Book of Prayer

Muriel Strode, 1904

I am eternally grateful for Strode's words so generously painted on an otherwise useless building. Her proclamation held me accountable to discover my own voice. And, because of that difficult search, it also led me to seek help in finding it.

So now I'll hand these thought provoking words over to you, with the hope that you'll feel embolden enough to blaze your own trail.

But hopefully they'll also beg the question:

Who will provide you with the tools to create that trail?

Notes:

*Strode's original quote was, "I do not follow where the path may lead, but I will go where there is no path and leave a trail" 

**Many have mistakenly credited this quote to Ralph Waldo Emerson.  

Happy (zzzzzzzz....) New Year

This new year I feel as if I'm an old grizzly bear, groggily stirring from a deep winter slumber.

I can assure you, however, that I'm not complaining.

This extremely relaxed state is due to the fact that I haven't done much in terms of work during these past two weeks; mostly my time has been focused on my family.  Since my husband took off two weeks I vowed to pretty much do the same. Except for a client meeting here and there, I have been off the grid professionally.  No writing, no presentation planning, very little coaching, no reading about coaching or motivating people.

My days these past two weeks have consisted mainly of sleeping in, cooking, baking, scouring the immediate area-and world wide web- for holiday gifts, wrapping those gifts and unwrapping some goodies of my own, going out to dinner, entertaining, reading non-fiction, ice skating, playing in the snow with my kids, and, one of my favorites, sitting by the fire roasting marshmallows.

And while I've enjoyed relaxing and focusing more on family and friends, I hesitate to borrow the clichéd phrase, "I reconnected with what is truly important." Because "what is truly important" spans beyond relaxation and family and friends and my time with them.  As crucial as those precious moments may be, the lack of hard work for two weeks reminds me of the importance of playing my other roles in life beyond wife, mother, sister, daughter, and friend.  I appreciate my need to fill other capacities that involve solving problems and creating career opportunities for others.

I unabashedly admit that I revel in the energy that comes with orchestrating possible business opportunities, connecting with new people in my quest to better career education, creating new tools to help empower people to reach their potential. I'm invigorated by activities such as coaching, writing, reading, and presenting. I suppose that is the "flow" that the great psychologist/philosopher, Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi refers to.

“Enjoyment appears at the boundary between boredom and anxiety, 
when the challenges are just balanced 
with the person's capacity to act.” 

― Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi

Author of Flow: The Psychology of Optimal Experience

In essence, I derive momentum from doing what I enjoy and employing my greatest abilities.

But I also acknowledge the longterm rewards that come from sitting back, letting my stronger abilities take a vacation and noticing non-work related things. Like what Christmas presents my kids are enjoying the most. Or talking to my husband about the flavors of the latest roasted sweet potato recipe I've created. Or not having any ambitions beyond retiring the ole PJ's by noon-or 5pm on a good day. It gives my mind a chance to let ideas from 2013 percolate without any interruption. And I'll have a fresh perspective on the creative problems I'll need to help others tackle this coming year.

Of course, this also means that I don't have that momentum to tackle much right out of the gate. And that some opportunities for professional growth probably passed me by as I laid on the couch and watched my son act out an imaginary game of football while watching a real football game on TV. (Same goes with hockey- when he watches sports, there are always two games going on- the real and the imagined one. Tackling himself gets a little crazy, but whatever.)

It means that at the end of this hibernation I feel the grip of that cumbersome law of physics which says an object at rest stays at rest. That any motion toward progress feels about as distant as that bar of soap when you're lazily submerged in a warm, sudsy bubble bath.

So, in this brand spankin' new year, my creative juices are still in need of some revving up. I'm still feeling a bit lethargic and more than a trite unambitious. But that's okay. After all, 2014 is still in it's infancy and we're a mere four days in.

And I figure, why not have a more gradual approach to the new year?

Ciabatta, Anyone?

I've therefore decided to borrow the words on a sign outside a new local bakery/eatery. The sign claims the store is having a "soft opening," which means, I discovered, no grand openings. No website. No liquor license, at least yet. Credit cards will be accepted... eventually. And please, don't expect regular hours during the week.

However, most weekends you'll likely find its door open for business, an aroma of freshly baked bread wafting out into the parking lot, beckoning hapless passersby to pop in for a buttery, flaky pain au chocolat or pecan sticky bun.

Of course, I have no idea what this "soft opening" means for their bottom line.  And, I suppose, it's not my problem to address anyway.  I just try to do my civic, locavore duty by buying their delectably moist chocolate chip muffins and melt-in-your-mouth cinnamon rolls. (I know, I know. I am so altruistic.)

Alas, cheers to a "soft" beginning in 2014. May you have many lovely moments to experience in the new year-personally and professionally.

Photo credit: Creative Commons, Via Flickr

Letters of Love

A daughter gives a moving tribute to her father, from whom she learned the beauty of the handwritten note.
Enjoy!

-Katie

Lakshmi Pratury: The lost art of letter-writing

Writing Your Way Past Fear

Journalling in the morning, I must say, is a marvelous way to jump start the day.

Now, if you've never kept a journal, you might assume that journal writing is only for people attempting to write profound treatises on life, love, and, I don't know, the deafening sound of their inevitable mortality mercilessly marching toward them. (For propriety's sake I won't mention where I just pulled that out of.)

On the contrary, journalling is mostly a great way to get rid of JUNK.

Yes, mon ami. Junk.

A journal provides an individual such as myself a place to transfer and organize all of the bits and pieces of schtuff that are taking up space in my brain. From to-do lists and frustrations to memories I want to keep someplace safer than my cerebral cortex, my journal- nothing more than a simple spiral notebook- is a welcoming, catch-all repository. I may end up creating little illustrations to go along with the words I've jotted down. Or perhaps I'll go crazy and add in a couple of insights!

Now why didn't I think of that?

Let me point out, however, that I don't try and make an entry every day like I used to; only when I feel like writing something on paper vs. pecking out letters on a keyboard. However, I find journalling to be kind of like going to the gym: it always feels good when I do it and then immediately wonder why I don't do it every day.

That's how I felt after one morning's journalling session. That morning I'd woken up before dawn feeling overwhelmed, so I rolled over and grabbed a notebook and pen from my nightstand. I felt like I needed to take out some major mental trash that, for some reason, had been piling up faster than the strands of no-longer-functioning Christmas lights in our living room.

Not our lights.

While most of the time I have no format for my journal writing- it's mainly just stream-of-consciousness- that morning was different. I realized, as I jotted down my pet grievances, that I needed to get to the bottom of some of these issues that were weighing me down. This was due to the fact that I noticed an all-too-familiar theme cropping up:

fear.


Not big, monstrous fears (thankfully) but rather subtle little fears that were thorny enough to keep me apprehensive and stuck in neutral. And naturally, when one is stuck, there is a lack of movement forward. And when there's no movement forward, back-ups occur.

I knew I needed to uncover what was going on that was causing my back-up so I tried a writing exercise that always helps me unravel my tangled ball of frustrations. (Again, Christmas lights come to mind... which makes me think I'm seeing yet another theme here besides fear....)


This fill-in-the-blank exercise is quite simple, actually, and I thought I'd share it with you.

You don't even need to have a journal to do it, just a piece of paper and a writing utensil.

Are you ready?

Write the words, "If I weren't so afraid of ________I would ______."

Complete the sentence as many times as you can. Just let your mind go from one thought to another.

Here's are some examples:

If I weren't so afraid of making a mistake I would submit that proposal.

If I weren't so afraid of hearing "no" I would ask to collaborate with xyz organization.

If I weren't so afraid of saying the wrong thing I would initiate important conversations.

If I weren't so afraid of getting hurt/criticized I would dare to write that book.

As always, after I completed the exercise I felt so much better afterward. I could specifically see where I needed to take a more active than passive approach in various areas of my life. And because I could see what actions needed to happen, I took a couple of important and long overdue steps.

So when you feel stuck or frustrated, try this exercise. Or create your own version.  It will help you dig deeper and get to the root cause of your problem. Writing down what troubles us can eventually help us name what is truly going on, and how we need to take ownership of our circumstances. And journalling, especially in the morning, reduces the overwhelming tangled mess of emotional blockage into a few actionable tasks for the day. Once you get all of the junk- the whining, complaining, Pity Party 2.0- all of a sudden your brain has "space" to determine what needs to happen so everything can start flowing again.

Speaking of flow, I need to get a new notebook, since I just filled up the last one. 'Cause apparently there were lots of pity parties going on.

****

Photo Credits: Creative Commons
Pencil: Pinksherbet
Design for a flying machine by Leonardo da Vinci
Traffic Jam

Choose Well, Live Well

In my recent post, "Listen Up!", I extolled the benefits of listening to the needs of your mind and body and how that translates to listening better to others' needs.

My sister, Sara Gorman, is a living example of this mindful approach to life.  She was diagnosed several years ago, at age 26, with lupus, an incurable autoimmune disorder.  For the first couple of years her symptoms were especially severe and pain wracked her body daily. However, Sara gradually discovered that by constantly listening to what her body needed, she could greatly reduce Lupus activity.

But she didn't stop there. Sara has been helping other people pay attention to their needs ever since she wrote her book, Despite Lupus: How to Live Well with a Chronic Illness, back in 2009. She speaks to organizations about how to manage chronic illnesses by making healthy (but not always easy) choices in exercise, diet, sleep and stress reduction.

Sara also keeps an ongoing blog that details, in a very positive, energizing way, how she manages to live with Lupus every day. She openly recounts her lessons learned, her ongoing struggles and her successes over the disease. And while I have been faithfully following her blog like a good sister/reader for several years now, she never ceases to amaze me with her insights into what it means to choose well, every single day.

The following post was one of those insights.

Enjoy!
-Katie

Despite Lupus: Choosing Well

Could You? Would You?

Via Flickr

...walk away from millions of dollars?
Just curious.

-Katie

NFL football player considers happiness factor

Crazy Busy?

“In this era, you must deliberately preserve and cultivate your most valuable connections to people, activities, and whatever else is most important to you. Anyone can cultivate these connections, drawing from them the strength and will a person needs to handle the best and worst of life, but only if you plan to do so and insist on adhering to your plan.” 

― Edward M. Hallowell 

The above is a quote from Dr. Hallowell's book that I highly recommend, CrazyBusy: Overstretched, Overbooked, and About to Snap! Strategies for Coping in a World Gone ADD.

Read it now, in the fall, when things are really starting to ramp up at home, at work and at school. It will help you take inventory of what is most important to you- and get rid of the rest!