Preparing for Change

Preparing for Change

Change is a process. We can’t see it clearly peering into the future, but when we look back it’s easier to plot the high and low points on our individual graph.

I’ve come to recognize that the groundwork for change gets laid days, weeks, months and years ahead of the actual shift that we can point to and identify. Extreme patience is required in the preparation stage. It’s the seeds, deep underground, beginning to grow but nowhere near ready to burst through the soil and make themselves visible.

So much of this life is preparing. We must wait, whether we like it or not, until the time is right for the longed-for change to take place. As humans, we are wired to become bored and discontent when our existence becomes too predictable and safe. We crave adventure, change, new scenery and experiences. It’s in our DNA.

preparing forBut between the desire and the reality there is a gap. Sometimes it’s short and other times it’s dishearteningly long. Most of us would not make big changes unless we first felt motivated by boredom or loss or an inner compulsion to inject fresh vitality back into our lives. It’s easy for inertia to set in, to lull us into complacency, but when the spark ignites for something new, we begin to stir up our excitement and then we usually have to wait.

I’m trying to change the way I view this preparatory period. I know that work is happening, deep in my soul, just as surely as flowers bloom out of buried seeds and not by accident. We’ve been painting our house and boy, oh boy, painting is mostly prep work. And the preparation doesn’t look like much, but without it you’d never get to those beautifully altered, crisp and clean walls.

Change is a long, messy, unpredictable process. You get great news and you’ll be flying high, then a rejection or a disappointment hits and you feel abject despair, all of that inspirational hope erased like a whiteboard. Life is a series of hurdles. Some you clear with room to spare and you are filled to the brim with success and optimism. Others you smack into and fall hard, occasionally breaking a bone or bruising your confidence, and you have no choice but to muster the courage to stand up and try for the next one.

Preparation is critical to implement change at some point in the future. We wait, we dream, we continue to work even when the odds are stacked against us. It’s better to believe that those seeds are, in fact, growing, even if we can’t see them. We show up, day after day, learning what we can and refusing to give up on what we long for most. And one day, perhaps when we least expect it, all of that prep work will turn into actual change, just in time to start the process over again with something else.

Roar Gently

Roar Gently

Do you ever feel like you’ve been silenced? In one way and another, incidents have been piling up for me and in a flash of insight, I realized that I’ve been staying quiet when perhaps I should’ve been speaking up.

To right this, I put Katy Perry’s Roar on repeat and cranked the volume up while I was driving. Just letting the words wash over me, “You hear my voice, you hear that sound, like thunder gonna shake your ground” tightened my resolve to let the world (or at the very least, a few select people) hear me roar.

As women, this can be a tough sell in our culture. We often feel the pressure to be nice, to get along, to not rock the boat, to avoid being labelled as difficult or bitchy. Facing conflict head-on can cause many of us to panic and retreat.

roar gentlyI struggle to find a balance between speaking up when something affects me or my kids and choosing to stay quiet when it’s none of my business (even if I may have strong feelings on the subject). I long to be as kind as possible, like most women do, but to also demonstrate courage by going boldly into tense situations without backing down. This is not an easy line to walk.

After feeling pumped up by Katy Perry’s beautiful and strong anthem, I wanted to simply say whatever came to mind to several people. But this didn’t seem right either, as we need to practice discretion so we aren’t abusive or cruel in our self-expression.

I’m trying now to think in terms of Roaring Gently. I have every right to use my voice, as every person does, but in order to stay true to my values and integrity, I also desire to choose gentleness in my delivery. Both of these words together give me a better framework for this important process.

Practicing new skills is hard. We should expect setbacks. We’ll bite our tongue and wish later we had spoken up. Or the opposite will happen: we’ll be stirred up and pissed off, so we’ll push our filters aside and let the person have every one of our nasty, unvarnished thoughts. This might require some apologies in order to keep our relationships healthy, but we can offer ourselves grace and love as we work through these normal bumps in the path.

Feeling voiceless gives us a sense that we are not in control of our lives. We can slide into victimhood, lashing out in a passive aggressive manner instead of bravely asking for what we need. This is not a healthy long-term strategy. But neither is saying hurtful things in the heat of the moment that can never be unsaid. Roaring is critical to our health, but a gentle roar is preferable to an angry one.

Let’s roar gently together – women who aren’t afraid to step up and be heard, but who value kindness as much as we do honesty.

That Rey Moment

That Rey Moment

We bought Star Wars: The Force Awakens and watched it again as a family this weekend. It lost none of the magic from when we first saw it in IMAX on opening day in December, but this time, one particular moment deepened in meaning for me.

When Rey faces Kylo Ren in the forest and her fingers close around Luke Skywalker’s lightsaber, she crosses over in that instant to her new identity – the person she was born to be but lacked the courage to become before this defining moment. I recognized a profound identification as I watched this dramatic scene unfold, for every one of us has either had that Rey moment ourselves or will at some point.

We all know, deep down, who we really are. But then we must access the strength to step into it, to cross over, to accept that invitation we receive to live as our truest selves. For Rey, in that second she grips the handle of the lightsaber, it’s written all over her face. This will change everything and she knows it.

star-wars-the-force-awakens-wallpaperThese key moments are exhilarating and terrifying, at exactly the same time. It’s thrilling to stop running from our calling at last, but embracing our real identity means walking away from the old one. This involves loss and pain. It’s a bridge we cross, from one inner destination to another, and we can never return in the same way.

The Hero’s Journey requires forward motion. If we stay stuck in the same place, we are not on a journey. We are in a loop. When we finally embrace our own Rey moment, we step from the old, familiar pattern and move on to who we are meant to be.

Now we are moving forward with new things to learn and experience. It’s like Dorothy opening the door to Oz and experiencing every single thing in bright, vivid colour, leaving the black-and-white version of herself behind. There are fresh adventures ahead, provided we are brave enough to go for them. It helps to form a new tribe of other like-minded travellers, who are on their own Hero’s Journey, and can provide support and encouragement in the loneliest spots.

Another helpful practice is stillness. Rey summons the power of quiet later in her fight with Kylo Ren, closing her eyes and taking the time to focus her energy and her mind. This is a requirement for those of us fighting our way through this life in the boldness of our true identities.

Don’t give up. Keep on going. Know that we are all making our way together. We have grasped our unique lightsabers and found out who we really are. Now we must continue to walk this path, even when it’s impossibly hard. Especially then, for we will find what we are looking for if we don’t give up.

The joy and the inspiration is found in the power of who we are meant to be. If you haven’t had that Rey moment of identification, start watching for it. And if you have, keep walking your Hero’s Journey. You are not alone. There are many of us, finding our true legacies and callings, believing that our power and our future lies along this path of who we are and were always meant to be.

The Tension of Opposing Forces

The Tension of Opposing Forces

Where is the line between strength and kindness? Or authenticity and respect for the dignity of others who behave radically differently than you? What about using your voice versus choosing to stay silent?

The tension that exists between each of these dynamics can be a real bitch. Relationships can become thorny in a hurry when we are deciding between these options, plus you add in a charged emotion like outrage or hurt and suddenly nothing is clear cut.

Recently I stumbled on a picture that said, “Do no harm but take no shit.” This helped to soothe and calm my restless spirit. It doesn’t help with clarity for each individual situation I find myself in, but it’s short and punchy and in the midst of stress it offers a basic framework for what is acceptable or unacceptable for me.

870d0415bcd8fc502252a3f1d1f9d111-2Most of us long to be kind but we also want to speak up and be heard. Both of these things are noble, decent and worthy. Do they have to be at odds? I’m trying to reconcile them in my life and my relationships, but if I’m being honest (and I do strive to tell my truth), it’s a huge struggle.

Perhaps it all comes back to awareness. The key is to be conscious of any disturbance we feel in our own spirit – when something is off, it’s time to pay attention. I hate that so often I go along with what another person desires because I want to be nice or not be labeled as difficult.

It can’t be bad to try to be kind, but the tension exists where what I think is socially acceptable intersects with what I want or don’t want. Is every situation unique and a decision must be made in the moment for each one, or is there some magic formula that helps me feel true to myself while balancing out what other people might need or want?

I’d prefer a magic formula, but I’m starting to see that this is wishful thinking. This above all: to thine own self be true, as Shakespeare told us so eloquently in Hamlet, and it feels like sage advice. When it seems false to me, I must be on the wrong track.

Sometimes niceness to others masquerades as my own lack of courage. This is an area for me to work on. But it’s also healthy and right not to give in to every fleeting impulse that arises, for words spoken from frustration and temporary irritation can do a lot of lasting harm to others.

It’s important to come to terms with the tension between two opposing forces. Kindness and strength; authenticity and respect for others; speaking up or remaining silent. No “one size fits all” works here. As we deepen our understanding of the person we are in the process of becoming, new relationship choices open up to us.

We grow a little every time we practice these skills. We make mistakes and we learn from them, offering grace and forgiveness to ourselves and to those we love (and those we can’t stand). Nothing about this is easy, but we are not given any guarantees in soul work. Every single day we get a new chance to practice doing no harm but taking no shit.

Impermanence

Impermanence

Coming to terms with impermanence is a task for every living person. Nothing lasts. Try as we might, not one of us can hold onto anything or anyone. The days turn into years, our children grow up and away from us, and anticipated events and seasons pass and fade into memories.

The good news is that we can choose our attitude to the certainty of change and loss. It makes us better or it makes us worse. We grow or we resist growth. Both states are uncomfortable.

To be human is to be in a state of flux, with our feelings and the circumstances that comprise our days. We feel melancholy, then grateful, and occasionally suffused with unexplained joy. Our emotions ebb and flow like the tides, often surprising us with their force and power.

impermanenceI think the key is holding all of it loosely. So easy and healthy-sounding to write and so challenging to live out. I know that fighting the inevitable is useless. We can’t change the passing of time. All we can do is adapt to it by accepting that the process is bigger than we are. Each of us exists as a cog in a much larger wheel, stretching back into the past and extending far beyond us into the future.

And yet, impermanence itself leads us to gratitude for whatever is currently in front of us. When we stop running from the truth that our life on planet earth will not last forever, we can sweeten our experience of this particular day. It means more, because we only have a limited number of them to come.

This concept of time passing is more keenly profound in middle age. We are at the halfway point (if all goes according to plan), and we find ourselves astonished by how much of our life is already behind us. Then we look ahead, and we see old age in a way that seems much closer than it used to.

One of the hardest parts of living authentically is bravely facing up to these truths, instead of numbing them with food, alcohol, work, other people’s problems or the enormous time suck that is the internet. Being true to who we are involves recognizing that what we are building into will not last forever, but when we invest in those we love, we can pass those skills and securities to the next generation.

I’m attempting to focus on what brings the most meaning, to myself and to others, in the days and months ahead. How I define this will continue to shift and change, as I do, but it’s a helpful way to channel my energy into something positive and worthwhile. I hate to feel paralyzed by panic and fear at what I cannot control. I’m better off staring this anxiety straight in the face and stating, “I accept you, exactly as you are” and then going along my merry way with a lighter heart because I’ve addressed the darkness instead of ignoring it.

It’s a hallmark of dysfunction to feel isolated in our sadness, but when our sense of loss is part of our shared human experience, it helps a little to actually share it. To bare our souls with as much courage as we can muster, in the midst of our brokenness, and hear another say those healing words: “Me too.”

The load is lighter when others help us carry it. Nothing lasts forever, but as long as we are alive, we get to choose how to spend our time and who we share our lives with. And those choices determine the quality of our days, which matters a great deal.