Managing Expectations

Managing Expectations

Managing expectations is a tricky area for me. It’s not my strongest suit, but I’m going to launch in as bravely as I can and see what I might have to say on this topic that can hang so many of us up.

It’s a beautiful idea to release your expectations and just accept what is. I’m sure that this method provides more happiness than the angsty hand-wringing that I’m fond of doing, but getting from stress to surrender is the hard part.

Like many of us, I know what I want in life, or at least I think what I want will bring me satisfaction, contentment, money, happiness, etc. I hate getting caught up in the spider web that is our culture’s inane idea of what success is supposed to look like, and yet it happens again and again to me.

I got a bad review recently from one of the sessions I presented at a teacher’s convention. The material I offered was not at all what this teacher was looking for. It threw me for a loop, because I heard a lot of positive feedback right after the session. It’s one thing to know in theory that you are not everyone’s cup of tea, and another thing to read it so bluntly in black letters on a white screen.

I’m querying a manuscript again and getting plenty of rejection. With each fresh “no thanks, your writing is not for me” my heart sinks and it’s only natural to wonder what the hell I’m doing with my life. But then a bit of time passes and I remind myself that it just takes one person to connect with my work. Not everyone is going to like it and that is totally fine.

But it’s hard. There’s no way for it not to be. The key is not to wrap my self-esteem up in the product I’m putting out in the world (writing, speaking, etc.) and keep the expectations reasonable. It’s going to be a long road, with plenty of bumps and detours and setbacks. Not quitting is what matters.

I think the best thing to do is to stay busy with other projects. You want fresh ideas flowing so you don’t fixate on what might be stagnating in one area of your work or life. Just keep going, and try not to obsess over why nothing seems to be going your way. One day you’ll step up to bat and the ball will connect with that satisfying thwack. You can’t predict when it will be and you’ll probably have to strike out a lot to get to that one thrilling hit.

Our expectations tie us up in all kinds of unpleasant knots. I’m determined to push on, in spite of the many roadblocks in front of me. So much of this life is subjective. One person loves what you’re doing and the next person despises or ignores it. It’s important not to take it personally. I have to believe that what I’m doing has value. It also helps to be reminded that a little bit of kindness goes a long way.

 

Anchored

Anchored

For 2017, the three words I wanted to focus on were: open, accepting and anchored. The first two months of this new year are drawing to a close, and I would say that I’ve had a lot of opportunities to focus on being anchored.

I’m working hard on staying in the present moment. I’ve traveled a lot in February, flying to Alberta three times to present at teachers’ conventions in Edmonton and Calgary. Ava’s acting career has also been heating up with lots of auditions and some bookings for film and commercials. This has kept me busy, but in a good way, not a frantic one.

When you have a lot of balls up in the air, it really helps to take each day as it comes instead of worrying about the next day. Each one has enough challenges and excitement in it. I used to live so much in my mind, stressing out over things that were way down the road. This business of anchoring in to each present moment is so much better for my overall sense of life satisfaction.

Meditation has been a huge help to me since the beginning of January. I downloaded Insight Timer to my phone, a free app with lots of guided meditations to choose from on a variety of topics. It’s free (which I love) and setting aside ten to fifteen minutes each morning to indulge in meditation has calmed my mind and my soul more than I ever dreamed possible.

It’s not an overstatement to say that I feel like a completely different person. One that can handle uncertainty and short timelines much better than before. I can now roll with the punches and I’ve accepted that it’s fine not to have the next twenty steps neatly mapped out. It’s enough to know what I’m doing at this moment and have a vague idea of the next step. Anything beyond that feels too stressful.

Anchoring myself is a wonderful gift. I credit meditation as the number one change I’ve made in the last two months, but also simply fine-tuning my awareness and working at calming myself when I’m anxious has made a big difference to the overall peace I’m experiencing. Sometimes we need a scary illness like I had this summer to properly crystallize what matters and be finally able to let go of what hangs us up and  never really served us.

My need to control has been a lifelong habit, strangling me without me being aware of how hampering it was. But now I’ve learned a better way of coping, one that involves kind words to myself and to others around me, plus a clear understanding that I am in charge of very little in this life. And that’s okay. It’s up to me to keep my mind sharp and clear, to push out of the way all of the little irritations and time-wasters that conspire to steal my joy.

I’m feeling grounded, anchored, held. I can easily admit I don’t have all the answers. In fact, I have very few of them. But it’s really fine. No one has all the answers. If they say they do, they are lying to cover up their overall anxiety level. Gentleness works better. So does staying in the moment. Having a sense of humour helps too.

Worrying about tomorrow truly does rob today of its happiness. I’m not going to do that anymore. I’m staying here, right now, and noticing what’s in me and around me. What a difference this change has made to the quality of my days and my willingness to try new and challenging things.

Showing Up is Brave

Showing Up is Brave

Often we think it’s the big gesture that counts as bravery, but it’s not. Showing up is enough. It means we are invested in developing our own courage and that we care enough to be present with other people.

My beloved hero Anne Lamott says, “The people who show up are inevitably the right ones.” The older I get, the more strongly I adhere to this truth. When life is hard and we feel beaten down, we demonstrate bravery when we simply show up.

This week I fly to Edmonton to present three sessions at a teachers’ convention (the first of three I will be speaking at this February and March). I love speaking, particularly when the message I’m delivering is one I believe to the core of my soul, but that doesn’t mean my knees won’t still knock together when I stand in front of 200+ teachers and attempt to keep them engaged and interested for an hour.

When I feel nervous, I repeat Rob Bell’s mantra, “Butterflies mean you are in the game.” I’m challenging myself by submitting speaking proposals all over the place and when I get offered contracts, I have to believe that just showing up is what I’m called to do. It’s brave enough just to do the best I can.

I adore the song in La La Land that Emma Stone’s character sweetly sings for courage in one key audition scene. She sings, “Here’s to the ones who dream, foolish as they may seem, here’s to the hearts that ache, here’s to the mess we make.” So incredibly beautiful, inspiring and true to my experience.

It’s normal for our hearts to ache and for our dreams to seem impossibly big and hard to achieve. But when we take small steps toward our highest hopes and aspirations, these moments are for celebrating. I’m really working on it being enough, exactly as the journey unfolds, instead of keening for better, different, more extravagant.

Does it seem easier just to show up? It does to me, for it means that the analysis of what I’m presenting or writing or creating is not up to me. The audience gets to decide if it meets their needs or fails to meet their expectations. My part of the bargain is to be prepared, to show up and say what I have to say. I’m going to trust that it’s enough.

If you have something to do that scares you, know that you are on the right track. You can do the things you don’t think you are ready for. You’ll never feel completely ready. At a certain point, you have to jump. This is how you stave off boredom and stagnation – you follow your curiosity and stay ahead of your own comfort level. That’s the growing zone. It’s where we feel most alive.

Try it. Believe that you will have what it takes at the moment you are thrust into the challenging situation. You won’t have any assurances while you are thinking about it and preparing for it. You’ll just have to trust that you will be up to the task. That’s what I’m doing, and so far it’s working. Showing up is brave. It feels like soaring when you’ve proven to yourself that you do, indeed, have what it takes.

Self Care and Pride

Self Care and Pride

I’ve noticed something in the last few literary salons I’ve facilitated: a link exists between self care and pride. Both words make people uncomfortable but in total different ways.

As a culture we have work to do in these areas. We’ve sped up the pace of our daily lives, causing the concept of self care to fall to the bottom of our to-do list. And we’ve also begun to define pride as selfish, egotistical, shameful.

Why do these two words (okay, three words but let’s lump “self care” together into one) make us squirm? I’ve heard women and men deflect away from questions centred on these ideas. In the two salons I ran yesterday in a high school, male and female students in grade nine and eleven shied away from anything involving pride and self care.

I find this fascinating. Like the brilliant Brene Brown’s research linking shame and vulnerability (not that I’m in the same league as my hero…see, there I go, qualifying what I’m about to say so it doesn’t sound too boastful), I am beginning to see that self care and pride are somehow connected.

I don’t understand it yet, but my Nurture is Valuable project ties in here (I’ve now interviewed 9 women on my way to my goal of 100 – please get in touch if you are willing to answer 5 short questions via email) and I want to pursue this further. We seem to feel afraid of our own strength. It’s uncomfortable to stand up and say, “I’m good at such-and-such. I’ve worked hard. I made/wrote/raised/cooked/organized/cold-called/created/cared for/succeeded at this.”

Self Care and PrideWhy is it so challenging to own our abilities, work ethic and outcomes? When I wrote the question, “What is one thing you did last year that you are proud of?” I assumed it would be hard for women to answer but easy for men. WRONG. So far its stumped almost anyone who has drawn it randomly from a bag of questions, including straight A students and those with solid careers.

And self care baffles people across the age and gender spectrum too. I’ve had to define it over and over, and it still falls flat and lifeless among the different groups engaging in conversation. It seems to be arrogant to talk about our successes publicly and embarrassing to explore the topic of looking after yourself. How long has this been the case in our North American culture? Has it been brewing for years or for decades?

I’m going to dig deeper into this subject. Does anyone have thoughts that they would be willing to share with me? My work is taking me in this direction. Personally, I am longing for radical self care, anchored by strength and pride in who I am and what I can do in this world.

My heart aches for meaningful connection and intentional conversation with other like-minded people, which is the birthplace of the literary salon. I have identified my own need to learn to love myself, exactly as I am, so I can in turn offer this gift to others, for we can only give from our own overflow and not from our deficit. I have much to discover on this topic of self care and pride. Who wants to be part of this with me?

I Am Enough

I Am Enough

I made a list of things I wanted to let go of in 2016. At the top of the list was this: my deep-seated fear that I am not enough.

I had no idea when I wrote that how massive the reverberations would be in my psyche from the earthquake this would cause. We’re seven weeks in to this new year, and expressing a willingness to work on this hidden area of shame and being less-than has cratered my life.

The explosion is the worst. It blows all of your security and coping mechanisms apart. You are left with nothing safe or familiar. You feel naked, exposed, stupid, alienated. You think you cannot survive what just happened, but then something miraculous occurs: you do.

i am enoughGetting at wounds that feel primal takes a herculean effort at courage. We want to scatter, like rats or cockroaches, as soon as the light touches the poorly-healed scar. Our deepest and darkest secrets reside in these places. The pain is staggering, fresh, overwhelming. The first instinct is to run; to put as much distance as possible between you and the hurt, to throw everyone else off the scent by summoning every trick in our arsenal to show that we are the opposite of our greatest fear.

But if we don’t run, something remarkable happens to us and in us. We stare it down. In my case, I saw that over the course of my life, I’ve developed healthier skills that helped me face the anguish I’d been running from.

Just because I felt less-than doesn’t mean I am less-than. I could prove, to myself, that I am more successful than I’ve been allowing myself to take credit for. While staring into this stinking abyss of not being good enough, I saw that I already had what I needed to be happy, fulfilled and optimistic. It was already there. Now the task was to claim it, to hold it in my hand, to cease striving for someone else to give it to me and simply be enough exactly as I am in this moment.

It all had to fall to shit before I could see it clearly. I had to risk losing everything and everyone to see how much I already had. This one has been a muddy, long slog. No one else was responsible for my own sense of worth. This was on me. I had to feel the sting of the shame and the fear in order to stare it down and come out safely on the other side. And damn, was it a solitary and terrifying journey, but the other side is as wide open as the prairies.

I’m free in this new landscape. I own my choices, my value, my soul, my fresh belief that I am enough and always have been. But worrying about what came before is a fool’s errand and I’m done being foolish. I can only move on from here and live out of this place of truth and beauty, where forgiveness finally exists for myself as much as for anyone else.

It will be less lonely now, for I can choose whom to invite into this new reality – the one where I am enough, simply because I breathe, and not because I’m terrified to show you just how hard I’m working to prove my worth to you. Those days are gone and it all looks so different now.

Our inside reality determines how we experience everything. I’m not setting my value now in a hypothetical sense. This is finally real, part of my daily experience, and I’m not handing this gift to anyone now. It’s mine, I own it, and I’m going to treat it much better from this point forward.