A Peaceful, Easy Feeling

One of the biggest challenges many of my coaching clients face is making a decision. It's as if choosing one course forever closes out all other options. "What if I hate it?" they ask. "What if I make the wrong choice?" And they stay stuck in the limbo land of indecision.

Let's get this on the table: there are indeed wrong choices, from a moral perspective. But some decisions have no moral component -- in those cases there are only choices with differing consequences. We get wrapped around the axle when we think that our decisions are set in concrete, when, really, only a few of them are.

Choosing a college for your child -- does it need to be The Perfect School? Not really. I've known plenty of successful people who transferred schools and ended up with pretty darn happy lives. Does it have to be The Perfect Job? Nope. I'll bet you know someone who actually left a job and found a better one. The Perfect Marketing Campaign? With modern tracking technologies, strategies can shift instantaneously. The Perfect Couch? Who among us has only one couch for their entire life?

Very few decisions are forever. Knowing that can be liberating. And should make your decision-making a tad easier.

So, here's my method for sorting through your many opportunities and fixing on the one with the best possible consequences -- Consider It, Feel It, Do It.

Consider It: I suggest people get into a quiet place with no distractions. This immediately conjures up the lotus position for some people and their hands start to get all sweaty. It's hard to concentrate when water is pooling in your palms, don't you think? A quiet place for some people can be found in a brisk walk, driving, or repetitive physical activity -- so find the way that works for you. When you get still, review your options. Pretend you have decided on one choice. What are the consequences of making that choice? What might happen? What do you get? What do you give up? As you weigh this choice, ask yourself, "If I do this, will I be in my integrity? Does this choice support my values?" If your value is to spend more time with your spouse and children, taking a job which requires 60 hours on the road every week is not going to get you more of what you want. It's actually going to get you less. It's at this point that you have to ask yourself, "Is it true that I want to spend more time with my spouse and kids?" Whatever the response, make sure it's really speaking to your truth and integrity -- not what other folks think your values and integrity should be. When we make choices in conflict with our real integrity and values, we create tension and friction in our lives.

Feel It: Still holding the idea that you have made a choice, how does it feel in your body? In your heart? In your head? Your feelings matter, so pay attention. If you feel tension in your neck and shoulders or a big honking knot in the pit of your stomach as you consider your course, that's a big tip off that it may be the wrong direction for you to take at this time. Of course, you also have to be honest with yourself. You can talk yourself into that 60 hour a week road warrior job because the money and benefits are great, but your body will find a way to tell you that your choice is against something you value -- you'll get sick, you'll get depressed, you'll get all snippy -- and you'll know you have to make another choice.

Do It: Here's the point where you decide. I call this "Opening The Chute" -- as if you're a rodeo rider on the back of a bucking bronco. You can only mess with the rope in your hand and adjust your hat so much. At some point, you have to open the chute and take the ride. But here's the twist: you make your choice with a bit of detachment. That's right, it's just a test. While you're doing whatever you've chosen, you are testing to see if it's right. You refine your approach. You collect data about what you're doing. You keep feeling it in your body. You persist through "decider's remorse" and keep testing. If at some point your choice no longer feels right, stop. That's right. Just stop. And consider the new options that present themselves. That may mean a new job, it may mean a new school, it may mean a new marketing campaign or a new couch. And that's perfectly OK. It's simply another chance to test your decision-making skills.

Are you one of those people who equate difficulty with working hard? That is, "anything worth doing is going to be a chore?" If so, it will be a challenge for you to make a valid assessment of your tests, because you may have internalized the idea that adversity as a good thing. You may never have known the ease that comes from thoughtful decision-making. I can assure you it's out there, and once you experience it you'll never want to go back to banging your head against the wall.

When you go through the process I've outlined with each opportunity available to you, you will be able to sort through them and find the one with the most peaceful, easy feeling. That peaceful, easy feeling comes when you're in The Zone, when you're operating like a hot knife through butter. It's an effortlessness and ease of being that makes living your life a pleasure. It's living with integrity, in support of your values.

Some of us, in the deepest recesses of our soul, think, "Who am I to make decisions for myself? I'm not smart enough, thin enough, strong enough, educated enough, loved enough, or just plain enough." I ask, "Who are you not to?" You are entitled to have your own needs, preferences and feelings. Making decisions for yourself, and handling the consequences, is also your right. If you give that right away, you give away the right to create a life of your own making.

Deciding is integral to human living. Few of us are exempt. And making decisions is generally not a one-time thing. We decide about the job only to face a set of decisions about the house. We choose the school, then have to choose the major. It's a couch, then a rug. So it's important to get really, really good at it -- because mastering decision-making prevents us from getting stuck in limbo land and allows us to craft a life of our own design.

Authentically You

There was a time in my life when I said "yes" when I meant "no", and "no" when I meant "yes". Looking back, I realize I did it because that's what I thought people wanted from me. And I wanted to be the person folks wanted me to be.

I said "yes" so often that my friend Fran gave me a t-shirt which read "Stop Me Before I Volunteer Again" which I wore to the next PTA meeting. I happened to be the PTA President at the time. Excellent team building message, don't you think?

I said "yes" because saying "no" might have meant someone would be unhappy with me. It made no nevermind if I was unhappy. My own need to be liked was more important than my need to be happy.

And I was not happy. Because I was not allowing myself to be authentically Michele. I was allowing others to determine who I might be. Power, power -- who's got the power? It was anybody but me.

I just re-read a book I've learned so much from: The Wizard of Oz and Other Narcissists by Eleanor Payson. The approach Payson takes in this book -- what living with, working with, or being raised by a narcissist does to a person's self-esteem, coping mechanisms and future relationships -- is insightful. But I got something new from my recent re-read -- the idea of self-reflection as an indicator of emotional and mental health.

People with a character disorder, such as narcissism, are incapable of self-reflection. I also think people who are sleep-walking through their lives often avoid self-reflection or self-observation because they are afraid of waking up and living fully. Maybe they are afraid of being authentically themselves.

I am here to tell you that self-reflection is the path to authentic living. When you know who you are, how you feel and what you like -- not what others want you to be, feel or like -- and you live it, that's authenticity, baby.

There's an index card on my computer monitor. On it are scratched three simple questions. For me, they are the heart of my own self-reflection.

1. Why have I drawn this experience to me at this time?
2. What is this experience trying to teach me?
3. How can I use this situation to help me be a better person?

I refer to this card so often that these three questions have become my intuitive framework, especially when I am tempted to say "yes" when I really want to say "no". The opportunity to say "no", and mean it, often comes to me when I need to remember to keep my boundaries intact. Sometimes, it comes as a chance to help maintain my priorities -- and not take responsibility for executing yours. I've learned that when I focus on executing other people's priorities, it's frequently at the expense of my own.

Every single time I say "no" when I want to say "no", I reinforce that I am a Self worth being. All by myself. Regardless of whether you like me and my answer to your request, or not. When I stand up for myself, I am standing for my own authentic Me. That is a shift from my old way of being, and it feels really good. It feels like I am expressing my true self.

And, boy howdy, I become a better person when I only say "yes" when I mean "yes". I do a better job. I'm not overcommitted. I'm more focused. I say "yes" because I really and truly want to do what's asked of me. Believe me, if I say "yes", you are going to see and feel my passion.

Being authentically me means that I honor my choices, and I honor my abilities. I'm living my passions. I'm feeling all my feelings. And expressing them. And when I'm authentically me, I make space for you to be authentically you. How? Because it's perfectly OK with me if you are mad, happy, sad, silly, loving, offbeat, generous, hurt, wacky or meditative. Because I'm all those things, too.

Help!

“I lift up my eyes to the hills – from where will my help come?” (Psalm 121) This line from the Bible has always made me think of the cavalry swooping down over a ridge in some old western movie, bugles blaring and standards waving.

“My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth,” is the response the Psalm gives us. No word on the cavalry.

One of my biggest problems with “self-help” is the reliance on the word “self”. There’s one big “should” there – we should pull ourselves up by our own bootstraps, forge our own path, fly solo, hoe our own row and, as Fleetwood Mac so succinctly put it, “go our own way.” It’s as if asking for help is revealing a giant weakness.

What’s the benefit of flying solo? Control, yes. And self-determination. Another good one: you don’t have to share your toys. When you are on your own no one else’s opinion matters… no one can tell you you’re wrong. No one can hurt you by rejecting your ideas.

Flying solo is a way of protecting yourself. Or, in the words of another pop song, “I am a rock, I am an island. I’ve built walls, A fortress deep and mighty that none may penetrate. I have no need of friendship; friendship causes pain. It’s laughter and it’s loving I disdain. I am a rock, I am an island.” (See? All those afternoons singing into my hairbrush have really paid off. And to think my parents worried about my future!)

I have seen so many women stop asking their husbands for help, especially when they have decided to step back from careers to focus on parenting. It’s as if these women feel they have to justify their decision by doing everything themselves. As a result, they feel lonely, overwhelmed, stressed out and alienated from their spouse. They have created a situation where they cannot ask for exactly what they need – help. And marriages suffer.

Gary Zukav wrote a challenging little book called The Seat of the Soul. Parts of the book are what my late cousin Libby would have called “woo-woo”, but his definition of relationship is right on: “individuals joined in equality for the purpose of spiritual growth.” What a marvelous way to phrase it.

If I am your friend, or your spouse, I am an individual committed to your spiritual growth. I truly want the best for you. I want you to grow. I want you to evolve, regardless of what that means for me.

However. The equals thing and the pursuit of growth thing may not be what you've got going on. If that's the case, maybe the reason you two don't ask for help is because you really don't want growth. Deep inside you think that if you grow you might change or your partner might change. They might not like you. You may not like them. You might leave. Or they might. That's scary. So you don't ask for help because you don't want to be abandoned. You're afraid that asking for help will reveal flaws in your relationship that may be too big to handle, so you don't ask. Sound at all familiar?

Let me tell you this: very few relationships are beyond repair -- especially if both of you want a more vibrant, loving connection. It is possible to shift away from fear and toward something more -- but you may need help to get there.

All you need to do is ask.

If you and I were in the equals-in-pursuit-of-growth kind of relationship/ friendship Gary Zukav describes, I want you to ask me for help. Not so I have a chit I can hold over your head for the rest of your stinkin’ life – but so I can help you, maybe in some small way, pursue your own personal growth.

But, if you want to know the truth, when I help you the real recipient of growth is... me. When I help you, I step out of my self-centered, narcissistic cocoon and focus externally. When I pack boxes with you, or help you with the dishes, or refer you business, or help you finally figure out your relationship with your mother, I put your needs before my own. And that is a great gift you give me. By asking for my help, you allow me to see a bigger world than I usually experience.

Zukav’s book also talks about angels, teachers and guides. This is the place he goes a little more woo-woo.

But when you think about it, it’s not so far out there.

Think about the time you had a baby on one hip, a toddler by the hand, three stuffed shopping bags and a stroller that needed folding before you got on the escalator during the Christmas shopping rush. Who stepped in and helped? Did you say, “Thank you, you're an angel!” to that guy? You sure could have. How about the woman in your first job who talked with you about suits, pantyhose and office politics? What did she teach you? And the fellow who stopped in the rain and changed your tire? Did he guide you to a moment when you were grateful and humble?

When the Psalm says, “From where will my help come? My help comes from the Lord who made heaven and earth” -- remember that each of the examples above are human beings, just like you and me. If humans were indeed made in the divine image, then we all carry a spark of divinity within. You’ve got the spark, I’ve got the spark, he’s got it, she’s got it. Everybody's got it.

And your help? It comes directly from the divine spark within others.

So it’s OK to ask for help. Think of it this way: you’re doing everyone a favor! You’re appealing to our highest self, and allowing us to grow, and to touch the divine within.

Which is the essence of love. And the opposite of fear.

And not at all weak.

The Way of Transition

The seasons are changing. I can see it outside my window. There are little buds on the Japanese maple. Tulip tips are pushing up through the ground. There’s a light, warm quality to the breeze – it’s bringing spring.

I love spring. Since I can remember, spring has meant happiness. Sure, it’s my birthday in a few weeks and the kid in me loves that. But the soon-to-be 47 year old grown-up in me has a different reason for joy.

I give a class on Managing Transition. Did you know that each transition begins with an ending? Odd, but so. We end a job, or a relationship, or an old way of being. Then we enter what writer William Bridges calls The Neutral Zone. I like to think of it as the Gray Period.

In my class, I liken the Gray Period to winter. Trees look dead. Grass looks dead. It’s cold. People hunker down. There’s a certain bleak stillness to winter. But inside those lifeless looking trees and plants, plenty is going on. Within each dormant tree are the tiny little beginnings of buds waiting to burst forth.

And so it is, too, with people in transition. They endure an ending which may bring grief, change, uncertainty, immobilization. Then they hunker down in a bleak stillness, seemingly doing nothing… but inside, if they could peek, so much is growing, changing and shifting. Inside, there’s a new beginning.

The new beginning is as inevitable as Spring. A renewal. A new start. A new optimism.

When people in transition tell me there’s no hope, I usually challenge them. Saying there’s no hope is like telling me there’s no Spring! Honey, just as sure as having a birthday, there’s always a Spring.

Certainly, March can come in like a lion or a lamb – it’s an unpredictable month. And transition is equally unpredictable. One can never know the look and shape of a new beginning, nor can we know how it will impact our lives. And perhaps that’s what people who voice “no hope” are trying to address. It’s not that there’s no hope – it’s just that there’s no control.

Control is such an overrated thing. I have a book on my desk (which I’ve not yet read), called A Perfect Mess by Eric Abrahamson and David Freedman which posits that disorder can spark creativity. On the book jacket (which I have read), it says, “Though it flies in the face of almost universally accepted wisdom, moderately disorganized people, institutions, and systems frequently turn out to be more efficient, more resilient, more creative, and in general more effective than highly organized ones…”

In my work I've found that those who approach the Gray Period with a certain level of uncertainty, disorder and, most importantly, openness, have a better opportunity to find a novel or creative approach which often sparks their new beginning.

On an episode of The Simpsons, Homer was, once again, out of a job. His daughter Lisa was going through the want ads, looking for a job for her dad. “Dad, here’s one,” she said. “Wanted: a technical supervisor.” “Oh, Lisa,” Homer whined. “I could never do that job. I’m not a technical supervisor, I’m a supervising technician!”

The Gray Period is a time for seeing connections – to see how a technical supervisor can become a supervising technician. How an at-home mom can become a business owner. How a lawyer can become a non-profit executive. How an engineer can become a clergywoman. How a suddenly motherless woman can learn to nurture herself. How down-sizing, or divorce, or even death, can be the best thing that ever happened to you.

And that’s where I find joy. I utterly embrace transition in all its messy splendor. I welcome it for the hope it engenders in me. Because I know that for every ending, there is a new beginning. Every. Single. Time. It may not feel possible in the middle of your own personal Gray Period, but, believe me, Spring is there -- just waiting to burst forth.

How will you know when your Gray Period has ended? My friend, when you feel the warm breeze blowing across your face, and see the trees bud, and tulip tops poking up, you will know. You have a new start. You have Spring. Even if your new beginning comes in a month other than March.