Ordinary Life, Extraordinary Living

Pledge to Myself: Write, Just Write.

2013-05-17T04:08:09-06:00

Yesterday, I had a coaching session with someone who barely knows me. She asked me what I was doing to get out of my head and into my creative flow. I thought I was in my creative flow. I was wrong. She was right.

I've been doing lots of thinking and not so much feeling and being. Which is a shame, because feeling is at least half of life, if not more. Not feeling, as in high drama. Feeling, as in "being in the moment". Feeling, as in savoring the little highlights of life that are right in front of me.

My way of feeling is through writing. I don't think my way through a blog posting. I feel my way through it. And sadly, I haven't been writing, at least not the stuff that brings me joy, creates meaning, and is deeply satisfying. Photo by Ian Hayhurst

It's the middle of the night. Not being able to sleep, I'm in my home office, exploring Danielle LaPorte's site. This woman can write. And she does. I don't write like Danielle, but I know deep inside, the writer in me wants to have the kind of full, creative expression that she role models.

So, I'm making a pledge to myself, to write more, write often, and write so that I can feel what's inside of me, intensely.

Why? Because as Danielle says,

"What if, first, we got clear on how we actually wanted to feel in our life, and then we laid out our intentions? What if your most desired feelings consciously informed how you plan your day, your year, your career, your holidays — your life?"

That's what I'm shooting for--a life built around the things that bring me alive. Stay tuned.

I Deserve to Be Here

2013-04-05T13:57:53-06:00

I've shifted my mindset from one of scarcity to one of abundance.

No, I didn't blindly repeat a mantra about how the Universe is loving and abundant. Nor did I go to the bank and get a $100 bill to carry around in my wallet. And I didn't watch a video of an Internet sensation talk about how I, too, can make a 7-figure salary, if I enrolled in her 10-week course.

Instead, I stopped in my tracks, as I was about to pass a high end store in Santa Fe's famed Plaza, and listened to a small voice that said, "You can go in there."

My husband and I were in Santa Fe on a spur of the moment vacation, our first in nearly three years. I was window shopping, while he was visiting a history museum. I had been admiring the shop's windows--beautiful designer clothes, richly textured and expertly tailored, and jewelry that looked like nature's best effort at dazzling the human eye. This was a place where one could easily drop a few thousand dollars without breaking a sweat. As I walked past the doorway, I could see racks of pristine clothes inside, artfully displayed. Photo by all things paper.

When I got to the last window, I knew it was a moment of choice. Do I go in and risk being embarrassed, in my jeans and sneakers? I was clearly out of my element. Or do I keep walking down the sidewalk, safe...and small.

The voice inside my head was encouraging. "You can go in there. You're a fifty something woman." And then, in the faintest of whispers, "You deserve to be there."

I turned around and walked inside the store.

As I entered, my eye caught the unusual designs of finely double woven scarves. A young woman approached and asked if she could help me.

I replied honestly, "I just came in to be inspired, creatively. The mix of colors is so beautiful."

To which she said, "Oh, no problem. Other people have come in for inspiration as well. We just got these scarves in from Japan. If you have any questions, let me know. Each piece has a story behind it."

Did I hear her right? Did she say story? My rational mind dismissed her words and smiled back. It was as if the Universe was beckoning me through a doorway, and I was still reluctant to go through.

I began looking at a rack of handmade coats sporting quilted, colorful prints. When the saleswoman pointed out her favorite among many, I delighted in the fact that the same piece was my favorite as well. I asked her how they were made. From there, it was a series of stories about designers and fashion history, prompted by a specific garment on the rack--from Issey Miyake's one-size-fits-all wearable art to vests made out of vintage Hermes scarves to one designer's brilliant use of deep color with simple shapes. It was as if I had stepped into the Costume collection of prestigious big city museum and had my own personal guide.

As we looked at the jewelry cases, laden with necklaces and earrings crafted out of semi-precious stones, I came upon a realization, which I shared with my new companion. Photo images1.1stdibs.com

"Look at the unusual color of these stones. I don't have to own this to enjoy it. Just like nature."

Abundance is savoring, not necessarily owning.

To my surprise, I did walk out with a purchase. I bought a pair of shoes that I thoroughly love. I'm still in a bit of a daze that the shoes cost more than three times the price of a single night at the bed and breakfast we stayed at.

But here's what I know. From the moment I put on those shoes, I felt like I was walking in sneakers. Comfort is all important to me. These shoes fit my foot.

And they fit me. Entirely. A bit quirky and absolutely original. Like me. They make me feel special.

The cynics would say that the salesperson was very savvy to make friends with me. I'd say that she was a kindred spirit who made me feel like I belonged.

In fact, I thanked her for making me feel so welcome. To which she replied, "Oh, I hate snooty sales people. As a teenager, I was fascinated by fashion and I remember going into an Yves St. Laurent shop." She didn't elaborate what her experience was, but I could tell that she understood my hesitation in initially entering this store. I was so grateful that we connected. I wish I had taken a picture of her. Her name was Kate.

I left the store, feeling like life was indeed abundant, not so much because of my treasure held in a nondescript charcoal shopping bag. Instead, the shoes are a physical reminder of the impact of that one hour on my spirit, heart, and mind.

I had been treated to a visual feast that sparked my creativity and spirit.

Abundance is joyously connecting to the world around you.

My mind was fed by an amiable guide with a deep sense of history and craftsmanship.

Abundance is fulfilling one's curiosity.

My heart was filled with a self-respect that can never be taken away. I belonged in a place I didn't think I belonged. I deserved to be there.

Abundance is knowing you are enough.

Thanks, Kate, for helping me see and feel that.

A Lifetime of Stories

2013-03-04T12:12:01-07:00

Each of us has wonderful stories inside of us, waiting to be told. The older you are, the more stories you have. The shame is that many of these stories will never be heard, their power to connect human beings and teach important lessons made impotent.

Recently, my brother called me to ask for a favor. His 90-something mother-in-law, who had been visiting from out of state, had just been moved to a local assisted living facility, within ten minutes of my house. Hard of hearing, but perfectly lucid, she was recovering from a month-long episode of health issues. Would I be willing to go visit her?

I immediately said yes. I had last seen Lula at Christmas, when my brother and sister-in-law hosted the family gathering. The photo to the left is of my niece with Lula at Christmas.

Lula loves to talk. And to tell stories. While my brother's family has likely heard most of Lula's stories over the years, I wondered what stories Lula holds inside of her that have never been told.

Enter a piece of paper that has been on my office counter for the last two years. It's a list of questions from the book, Listening is an Act of Love, by Dave Isay, founder of StoryCorps, an oral history project started in 2003. The questions are intended to elicit meaningful stories, from ordinary people.

A few of my favorites:

What was the happiest moment of your life? The saddest?
Who was the most important person in your life? Can you tell me about him or her?
What are you proudest of in your life?
How has your life been different from what you imagined?

How many times have I walked by that piece of paper over the last two years, waiting for the right moment to ask these questions? I have found that engaging in the kind of poignant conversation that these questions can foster takes courage, especially if it's someone I'm close to. So...I've waited. Until now.

This week, I plan on visiting Lula. I'll let you know how it goes.

P.S. StoryCorps has a comprehensive list of questions, categorized by topic, on their site. Click here to view. Here's an example of the great work that StoryCorps has done over the years.

See more of their animated stories here. (BTW--The organization was recently awarded a $1M MacArthur Award for Creative and Effective Institutions. Hooray for the power of stories!)

Living a Bigger Story

2013-02-15T08:44:00-07:00

Remember the bumper stickers: "I'd rather be fishing" or "I'd rather be sailing"? I'd rather be...living a bigger story.

So much of my life has been spent finding answers, "figuring it out", whatever "it" is. But living a bigger story means being part of a mystery and not knowing. The physicist, Richard Feynman, puts it eloquently:

"I think it is much more interesting to live not knowing than to have answers which might be wrong."

Except for maybe in Sunday school or a preacher's sermon (which I was not exposed to in any depth) we are not taught to savor mystery. Instead, we are socialized to have the pat answer. And this only leads to small stories--what Feynman calls provincial stories.

My friend, Dave, has been to hell and back with health issues in 2012. He's had multiple surgeries and trips to the ER, indescribable pain, and the frustration of having no answers. He sums it up this way:

"Randomness rules & uncertainty needs to be a comfort zone. Truth is still out there…just not simple to find."

Living a bigger story means being in connection with something bigger. I have never had a structured religion to point the way to that place of connection. And yet I know it exists. It comes in "winks" from the Universe. In synchronicities and coincidences that are hard to explain. Lost pictures found. Taking a seat with my extended family at a high school graduation ceremony, filled with thousands of people, and hearing the voice of a friend, seated directly behind me. Sending an email to someone who I have not spoken to in weeks, just at the moment when they are thinking of reaching out to me.

I'm not saying that living with mystery is easy. I like knowing the whole game plan and seeing things unfold like clockwork. It's how I'm wired. But I also know that what I can imagine in my mind is so pitifully small and mundane compared to what life presents.

How do you live a bigger story?

What Do You Believe?

2013-02-12T10:45:00-07:00

I recently did an exercise on uncovering my beliefs. Beliefs are like the engine in a car--it's what is under the hood that powers the car.

When it comes to your life, these are the beliefs that guide me:

The Universe gives you exactly what you need, when you need it, and no sooner.
Everyone has a story to tell.
Everyone has a gift to give—in the form of talent and wisdom. Genius is in everyone.
We create our own luck.
Your body doesn’t lie. Listen to it.
Beauty (e.g., flowers) is a source of joy.
Most problems can be solved with a long walk.
What we do matters, even though we will never know the full impact of our actions on others.
Feedback is a good thing. Give it frequently and thoughtfully. Receive it openly.
Everyone makes mistakes. It’s the recovery that matters.
Most people are doing the best they can, in the situation they find themselves.

The beliefs that guide how I conduct business:

Give value.
Work only with people who have integrity.
Reputation matters. Always take the high road. Work with impeccable integrity.
Bad clients are not worth the money. What I gain in money, I lose double in energy.
Everything I do as a business owner says something about me.
Follow my sweet spot. Just because I can do something doesn’t mean I should.
Giving and receiving must be balanced to keep the flow going.
My business has to fit with my life in order for it to thrive.

These last two beliefs are fairly new, based on my experience with burnout.

I recently told someone that the books you read say a lot about who you are. Even more telling is what you believe. It's why success is an inside job. (Yes, that's a belief, as well.)

What are the beliefs that guide your life and your work?

Always Ask--And Answer--These Two Questions

2012-12-19T13:17:09-07:00

[Full disclosure: I applied, and was selected, to be on the unpaid launch team for the book, To Sell is Human. I am one of 96 team members across the globe who got advance copies of the book, as well as the "first mover package" that comes with pre-ordering the book. My review below is based solely on the merits of the book. In other words, I would have written the same review, independent of being on the launch team.]

One of my favorite authors, Dan Pink, has a new book, To Sell Is Human, coming out on Dec 31. Even if you don't think of yourself as selling, the book argues successfully that we are all in sales. Unless you are in a coma, our daily life and work requires each of us to influence others in some way--whether it's getting your child to finish their homework, or getting funding for a project at work, or motivating an employee to stay late for the umpteenth time. The author calls this "non-sales selling". We aren't selling a tangible product or service, but we are selling, nonetheless.

So, we're all in sales. So what?

If you're like me, traditional sales techniques feel manipulative. It feels like only flaming extroverts could pull them off. (Some of my best friends are extroverts in sales, so nothing against them.)

Fortunately, Pink makes the case for why the schmoozy model of sales is dead, largely due to the buyer's accessibility to information via the Internet. When I can research everything about a car, including profit margins, reliability, and maintenance history, even before stepping into a showroom, I'm no longer at a disadvantage. Instead of "buyer beware", it's now "seller beware". Not only do I have equal information for the transaction, but I can easily publicize to my friends on social media if you, the seller, is a jerk.

The author draws on research from social psychology to give the reader a roadmap for how to influence others in this new landscape. What he comes up with is fresh, easy to implement with a little effort, and sometimes so simple that it's startling. The book outlines six ideas that speak to the being and doing of selling: Attunement, Buoyancy, Clarity, Pitch, Improvise, and Serve. Watch the following video for more:

While it may take work to integrate these concepts into how you operate (you'll largely be undoing many of the stereotypes about selling that have been drilled into your head for decades), you'll find "selling" to be more fun and natural. More importantly, Pink has created a framework for fulfilling a desire that most people who walk this planet have--to serve others with integrity.

After reading all five of his books and interviewing him multiple times, I realize that what makes Dan Pink's work so compelling is that he is first and foremost, a humanist. Yes, he's big on research and factoids. But underlying all of that is being of service and making the world a better place. Photo by douas

Which leads me to the title of this post. Most likely you've heard that the best salespeople have an attitude of service. But what does that really mean? Pink gives a yardstick to measure ourselves by--two questions to ask and answer when you are attempting to influence someone:

If the person you're selling agrees to buy, will his or her life improve?
When your interaction is over, will the world be a better place than when you began?

He goes on to say: "If the answer to either of these questions is no, you're doing something wrong."

If you've never read any of Pink's books, start now with this one. His writing is a mixture of:

Insights backed by hard research (e.g., charts by the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics and studies from well-regarded academics.)

First person stories that come out of his personal research (e.g., shadowing the last Fuller Brush man in America, taking an improv class with a cosmetic company executive and other professionals wanting to get better at their jobs.)

Tools, exercises and resources to help you put the insights into action (e.g., a three-step process for being a better curator of information for your audience, templates for six new kinds of pitches, designating a "slow day" when you'll wait five seconds before opening your mouth in a conversation.)

BTW--when you pre-order the book before Dec 30, you'll get his "First Mover Package"--a veritable Santa's bag full of goodies (e.g., access to a live call with Pink on New Year's Day, a workbook, two recorded interviews with social psychology researchers and thought leaders.) Gift yourself the book. Really. Do it.

Gifts Unnoticed

2012-11-21T20:06:10-07:00

As Thanksgiving approaches, I am reminded of the gifts that arrive in my life daily, that go unnoticed. Here's a run down:

The gift of sleep. In my inbox this morning was a note from a friend who has had a series of health problems throughout this year, leading to multiple surgeries and trips to the ER. His note talked about the feeling that Santa had arrived. He awoke in the middle of the night feeling something he hadn't experienced in seven months: rest. My friend realized that for the first time since April, he had slept more than two hours in a row. His note gave me a whole new appreciation for my body's ability to rest and rejuvenate through the gift of sleep. Photo by mayte_pons

The gift of exercise. Last month, I returned to the gym, after dealing with a host of minor issues that kept me from exercising for weeks and months at a time. It feels good to be active again, to work up a sweat, to go to yoga class, to run. I am thankful to be healthy enough that taking a class requires nothing more than making the time and showing up.

The gift of electricity. In touching base with friends and family on the East Coast after Superstorm Sandy, I heard stories of what life is like without power for extended periods of time--not just hours, but days or even weeks. Unimaginable is the word that comes to mind. For most of us, our daily lives would be severely interrupted without access to electricity. Yet, I know that I don't give a second thought to having heat and lights and electronic devices that allow me to do my work and communicate with others. I am now more aware of how my life is comfortable and meaningful, because of the gift of electricity. Photo by elycefeliz

The gift of the Internet. How lucky am I that I can watch an inspiring TED talk or learn the history of a beautiful song with a few keystrokes? Using the Internet, I have access to more resources than anyone could have imagined just 10 years ago. It has become commonplace, especially with the Millennials, to expect that information is at our finger tips. But it wasn't always so. And in other parts of the world, there are censors that filter what information is available. I am living in an age where the gift of the Internet has made my world bigger, better, and richer.

The gift of driving. In the U.S., most of us take for granted the ability to hop in a car and go wherever we want to go. Recently, with a third driver at home (my teenage son) and two cars, I've come to appreciate when there is a car for me to use. I was even more aware of this when I visited my older son at college. He doesn't have a car on campus--in an area that revolves around cars (Dallas). So it was a treat for him when I showed up with a rental car. We were able to visit an art museum and have dinner in downtown Dallas, and go to a local grocery store to stock up on supplies. All of this would be so much harder without the gift of driving. Photo by epSos.de

The gift of fitting in. Every single day, I connect with people who "get" me and appreciate me. This has not always been the case. In my first job out of college, I took a job where I felt isolated and out of place. I was working in a nuclear power plant that was under construction, 60 miles outside of Chicago. There were 3,000 construction workers on site and 150 professional/administrative staff. I was one of a handful of women in a professional role. I supervised technicians that were decades older. And I don't recall another Asian on site. I am so grateful that I have found my tribe, where the question of fitting in doesn't even cross my mind.

The gift of newness. Every day, we have the opportunity to approach life with "beginner's mind". I am reminded of this in welcoming a new baby into our extended famiy, a great niece, born last month. I can see the freshness and vibrancy that new life brings to my family. The gift of newness is there for me to receive, if I choose to see the world in that way.

The gift of family and friends. This poignant set of essays, titled, The Empty Chair, reminded me of the treasure of each person who will be at the dinner table for our Thanksgiving feast. It's easy to take for granted the presence of family members who I see many times a year. And yet, I know that our time on Earth is limited. While everyone is in town for the holiday, my extended family will celebrate my stepfather's 98th birthday. 98 times around the sun! I feel blessed to have this time with my stepfather, who still plays a mean game of mah-jong, and has a peaceful and loving heart. I will enjoy the gift of family and friends tomorrow, and each day after.

Thanksgiving comes just once a year and allows us to pause, reflect, and give thanks. Make every day a day of thanks, by noticing the gifts that surround you.

The Phone Rang...And My Life Changed

2012-11-10T08:01:00-07:00

It was ten years ago this month that I learned my life would change. I had no idea how much it would change.

I was just about to leave my office for the day, when the phone rang. It was a good friend, my first boss at the company that I had joined six years prior. I had not worked for her in several years, but we were still close. I don't remember what she said to me. I could only hear that something was amiss in her voice. Photo by MarkandMarina

Without thinking, I blurted out, "You know something, don't you?" I knew then that I was on a list of employees to be laid off. There had been rumors of another layoff. The company had been shedding workers for three straight quarters. Her reply confirmed my knowng: "Yes. Can I come over to your house this evening?" I decided not say anything to anyone about my conversation until I heard more.

Later that evening, after my children were in bed, and my husband was at my parents' house playing mah-jong, my friend arrived, with a mutual friend. These were two of the strongest women in my life, women who had lived through a lot. They entered my house with a look of concern, as if to say, "We take care of our own." We talked for over two hours, about my impending layoff and what I would do next. The only thing I was sure of was that I would strike out on my own. I had no desire to work for another company.

A lot has happened since that late night.

The world around me has changed. Ten years ago, social media did not exist. YouTube, FB, LinkedIn, Twitter--nada. Blogs were in their infancy. The mobility and miniaturization of computers still meant laptops, not iPhones or tablets. Connecting with someone meant having a conversation, not exchanging bytes on a hand-held screen. As a nation, we were just figuring out what a post 9/11 world looked like. Al-Qaeda was not a household word. The war in Iraq had not started. The country was united behind a sitting president and bi-partisanship in Congress was not the rarity it is today. Our society valued civility over entertainment; Donald Trump had not yet uttered the words, "You're fired!" on national television. Photo by Yutaka Tsutano

My world has changed. After working in large companies for nearly two decades, I had no inkling what it meant to be an entrepreneur, to run your own show and make up the rules along the way. I had no idea how much fun it would be, nor did I know that it would test me at every turn--causing me to reflect on who I am, what I stand for, and what I wanted in life. I was suddenly free of the structure of work that I had known since my first real job at 16--showing up in a non-descript building, settling into a cubicle, and "doing the work" for the better part of the day, driving home on autopilot, listening to NPR, briefcase next to me. Now, work is a few steps away in a basement office and I "arrive" sometimes in the middle of the night, when I can't sleep, or in the middle of the day, after a Zumba class at the gym or a run on a nearby trail. Instead of "doing the work", I'm focused on adding value, pacing myself, and savoring the moment.

My family has changed. Grade school boys have become young adults, with driver's licenses and dorm rooms and large appetites. They tower over me, like gentle giants. My husband has gray hair around his temples, and his boyish face is now marked with a few wrinkles. He's stopped playing baseball in the 48-and-over league and finds biking less injury prone (knock on wood.) My siblings have become grandparents and empty nesters. Nieces and nephews have real jobs with real responsibilities. Parents have become more frail.

For all that has changed on the outside, I still feel much the same as I did that November evening ten years ago. Uncertain about the future, but optimistic about shaping my destiny. Grateful for friends and family. Loved and supported. Still in awe of the mysteries of life. Eager to make meaning of it all.

I have changed too. I am more aware of my patterns of thinking and behaving, both good and bad. I cherish my family more and no longer take my gifts for granted. (Okay, maybe I'm stll working on that last one.) Time is my ally, instead of my master. I am clear about the work that makes me happiest and who my tribe is. Energy and attention are not infinite but a valuable asset to manage well. I have calmed down, made peace, and let go. I watch calories and appreciate good health. I no longer dream about overflowing toilets in public restrooms. (My interpretation: dealing with crap.) Frenetic lunges toward the finish line no longer interest me, even if it does allow me to check another item off my list. Failure is something to learn from, not avoid. (I'm still working on that last one, too.) Photo by japa_justin

We all have turning points in our lives. And it's hard to appreciate them at the time.

It's only in hindsight that we can see a moment in time as an inflection point in an ongoing narrative. A door opens, and our habit is to focus on the one behind, slamming shut. Unbeknownst to us, there is a new world awaiting to be discovered, for us to play in and explore and make our mark. Opportunities aren't so much found, as they are made in this new world. Photo by imsuri.

What have been the turning points in your life and what new worlds did they open you up to?

2012-10-18T08:24:45-06:00

WSJ article: Work as Labor or Love?, http://on.wsj.com/S5G8b5 . Online "Happiness at Work" survey of 11,000 people in 90 countries. Least happy are those in their 40's. 25% more likely to be happy at a smaller company (less than 100 employees). Any surprises?

Five Things I Wish I Had Known Ten Years Ago

2012-10-15T07:31:00-06:00

Like the old saying goes, "Hindsight is 20/20".

Here are 5 things I wish someone had told me 10 years ago:

Success is an inside job. No matter how you define success, it starts with your mindset. Why? Because the most insidious limitations are the ones we put on ourselves. The way you view the world and what you focus on have everything to do with whether you reach your goals in life. Let me give you an example. I just finished a six-month program designed to help me groove new ways of thinking and being, and to dismantle old ways that were no longer serving me. Over the course of months, I saw how a piece of me, lovingly called "Racehorse", was making things harder in my business than they needed to be and spoiling the rest of my life. This is exactly how I ended up in burnout last year. Photo by Wiertz Sebastien

Instead of experiencing joy, I felt anxiety that I wasn't doing enough. Instead of celebrating who I am, I focused on not being enough. Instead of letting things flow, I tried to "figure it out". Fixing problems, quickly, was my mantra, which only served to overstimulate my mind and throw me into a mental rut.

Since becoming aware of "Racehorse", I've caught myself numerous times giving into the seduction of "faster is better". Some situations are blatant. Others are subtle and nuanced. Each time, I become better at getting out of my own way.

Last week, someone I had not seen in many months asked me if my work was stressful. And for the first time in several years, I was able to answer honestly, "No, not at all." I'm getting better results based on any meaningful metric you can think of (e.g., financials, work/life balance, productivity, customer satisfaction, creativity, personal growth), all with more ease and flow. I feel like I've upgraded my "operating system".

Use visuals and drawings to think. I think pretty well in words. But drawing as a way to clarify my thoughts and creating collages to express my inner desires take my effectiveness to a new level. A great book on this is Blah, Blah, Blah: What To Do When Words Don't Work. Watch this video of the author, Dan Roam, speaking about his passion of using drawing as a thinking tool.

Twelve months ago, I created a collage, cutting out magazine images that were appealing. Amazingly, when I look at this collage, I see how several of the images have come to fruition. The campfire became Campfire Conversations, a new Q+A call on career development that I've hosted and will do more of, because it feeds me. The watch is a symbol of my new relationship with time. The colored eggs in the nest remind me of Easter, about the time I started the six-month program to learn about and rein in "Racehorse". I'm curious to see how the rest of this collage plays out in my life.

Get coached by someone who sees you "10X" bigger than you see yourself. I cannot be as successful alone as I can with the help of others. I've had several coaches over the last ten years. They were all good in their own way. And this year, I worked with coaches who could see my potential in a way that excited me. They used words that were both concrete and transcendent. They helped me see my own magic. In doing so, I am not so much pushing myself harder, as I am giving myself permission to see a different possibility. Which goes back to mindset.

Take time to appreciate the body that you have. Ten years ago, I didn't know the meaning of "muffin top" and "hot flashes". I had no idea how gray hairs could readily invade my mass of black hair or how years of tea drinking would stain teeth. A decade ago, I could read the fine print on lipstick covers with ease. Now, I am thankful for what does work well, and more forgiving of parts that do not. I appreciate that I can still run/walk a few miles and not feel sore the next day. I take joy in a yoga workout that leaves me relaxed and fit. I feel grateful when I can get out of bed, without a stiff back or vertigo. Photo by Emanuel Leanza "Eleanza"

Savor the time with your children. Ten years ago, my sons were 7 and 9. In less than a decade, they grew into young men. Now, one goes to college a thousand miles away and the other might as well be for how much he's out and about with school activities and friends. I am so proud of both of them AND the years are a blur. I still don't know where the time went.

I started off this post by saying I wish someone had told me these things ten years ago. The irony is that for many things in life, it's our experience that informs us, not the words handed down by someone else.

What do you wish someone had told you ten years ago?

The New Normal

2012-08-19T12:58:40-06:00

Change is hard.

For 14 years, on the first day of school, I've taken pictures of my sons smiling (and not so smiling) on the front porch, after a big breakfast. It was our annual ritual before hopping in the car to drive to school. The picture to the left is from 2007.

Fast forward to 2012. My older son has returned to college, a thousand miles away. And on the first day of school, my younger son, a high school senior, gave only a shrug when I offered up to make pancakes and sausage. Instead, he cheerily said, "Bye, Mom!", walked out to the garage, settled in behind the wheel--my seat for so many years--and drove himself to school.

I completely forgot about the annual photo on the front porch until he was pulling out of the garage. I managed to snap a photo from the front door.

From smiling boys to my car pulling away, without me.

Change is hard, when it means giving up not just rituals, but control.

(I was somewhat vindicated when the phone rang a few minutes past 8 on the first day of school. It was the high school counselor, sitting with my son in her office. There was a scheduling mixup, which put my son in a middle school study hall. In fixing his schedule, my son also needed my consent on an AP class that he wanted to drop. What little power and authority I still have over the mind and body of a rebellious 17-year old, I'll take.)

I am trying to snap out of it--my old mental model of being a youngish mother of middle school kids, the early years of diapers and child rearing behind me and the college years, transforming adolescents into independent adults, still far away.

The reality is that I am 50-something and on the verge of being an empty nester. My brother and sister-in-law are experiencing that this fall, after raising three girls who are now lovely young women. I don't envy them, even though they seem to be happy with weekend trips and volunteer work.

All of this has made me wonder about my mother, now in her eighties--how she survived change. In the course of a few short years, she buried a husband, remarried, moved to another state, changed jobs, and saw the last of her three children go off to college, in places far enough away to think twice about a quick visit. She did it without showing much angst, at least none that I could see.

(BTW--a mother's dream does come true. After being scattered to the winds, across states and countries for decades, all of her four children now live close by, from a few minutes walk down the street to 30-minute drive across town. The picture is me with Mom at my older son's high school graduation party.)

Change is hard, and it's survivable. My mother showed me that.

I may not like that I'm entering a new phase of my life--one without kids in the house and one with a body that gains weight all too easily and gets gray hairs between dye jobs. That's the new normal.

What I can do is stop resisting. Or at least give up trying to resist. Resistance is not just futile. It's draining.

Change is hard, and resisting makes it worse. Resisting is a perfectly human reaction, that doesn't serve me.

What I can do is remember, that when the mourning stops, I can embrace the opportunity that change always provides. It's there, if I choose to remember--when I lost a parent, when I left being an employee (hopefully, forever), when my oldest child first went away to college a year ago. Those losses have led to a wonderful relationship with a loving stepfather, to the reward and thrill of a second career as an entrepreneur, to the satisfaction of seeing my son be self-sufficient (and the indulgence of a spare bedroom turned into an office for nine months out of the year.)

I'm getting used to the new normal--Skype calls on Sundays with my son at college, turning over the car keys to my younger son to run errands, more time with aging parents, less laundry and lower food bills, and planning more getaways with my husband.

Change is hard, and it's worth it. The new normal is here to stay.

The Power of Awe

2012-08-19T12:06:38-06:00

If you're like most people, there never seems to be enough time.

But according to new research, people who were primed to feel awe had a stronger belief that there was enough time to get things done. (And all along, you thought it was a better time management system that would be the answer. Mind over matter.)

Read more in the second posting of a short Wall Street Journal column, about how "feeling a sense of awe causes people feel less rushed and impatient--and, at least briefly, happier about their lives."

I think that's why certain videos go viral--they create a sense of awe and a feel good state. Like this one that was pointed out by Dan Pink, who found out about it from Seth Godin.

And here's what is truly extraordinary. We can find things to be in awe of, each and every day. Whether it's how much your kids grew over the summer, or the fact that your 90-year old grandmother still walks everywhere or how the Internet has transformed our lives over the last decade, there's a lot to be in awe of. If you are still stumped, look on YouTube.

Let's have some fun and declare this coming week, A Week of Awe.

Tell me in your comments about your moments of awe.

August 24, Campfire Conversation: Career Q+A

2012-08-15T10:00:00-06:00

My younger son is back at school and my older son returns to college in a few days. Summer is coming to a close. And I'm not quite ready to declare the season over. Photo by jkirkhart35

It seems appropriate to have one last event that captures the essence of summer, a campfire conversation. Something about a crackling fire burning in the night, lighting up just enough of each person's face to give you the comfort of being surrounded by other human beings (as opposed to bears and coyotes), puts me in the mood for meaningful conversation.

With the help of technology, I'm hosting a "virtual campfire", where we'll talk about careers. Join me for honest conversation, sage advice, and maybe a tall tale or two. (Did I ever tell you the time that I was VP for a day? Okay, just kidding.)

What: Campfire Conversation: Career Q+A. I'll answer as many of your career-related questions as I can in 60 minutes. And maybe, through your questions and my answers, we'll get to know each other just a little bit more.

When: August 24, 1pm ET/10am PT

Where: Virtual. This is a teleseminar, so you can attend via phone, Skype, or over the Internet.

Cost: Free

Yep, that's right. It's free. So even if you don't have a career question, just come by to say hi. I look forward to hearing your voice around the campfire.

Click on the button below to register.

Everyone Has a Story to Tell

2012-07-30T20:08:37-06:00

Understanding my life's work continues to be a work in progress. Just when I think I have a handle on my work, I see a new wrinkle.

Lately, I've been pondering and embracing this idea:

"Everyone has a story to tell...and a gift to give."

It's what I used as an icebreaker at my recent dinner in Chicago. And it's what I've been focusing on with my work with coaching clients--helping them tell their story online and identify their "genius zone". (More on the phrase, "genius zone" in an upcoming post.) Photo by jkirkhart35

The latest opportunity: a talk on Thurs, Aug 2, on something I call "brand story".

Here are the details. If you are in the Denver/Boulder area, I hope you can join me:

What: Your Brand in Demand: Standing Out in a Competitive Marketplace. In this free in-person presentation, you'll learn:

Why storytelling is the new competitive advantage

How to shape unique work and life experiences into an authentic story of who you are and the value you deliver

The two critical components that most people miss when using story to present themselves

When: Thurs, August 2, 8am

Where: 4755 Walnut Street, Boulder, CO. Unlike many events these days, this one is completely in person. There is no virtual component. In other words, you need to show up, in person, to participate!

RSVP: To register, click here. This talk is sponsored by the Boulder Area Human Resources Association. When you register, please indicate that you are attending as my guest.

If you can't make the presentation but are interested in the topic, please enjoy an article that I wrote for Next Avenue, a PBS site, "How to Use LinkedIn to Promote Your Personal Brand".

Poem As Food for the Soul: The Fat of the Land

2012-07-13T11:16:31-06:00

A friend emailed me this morning with a poem from The Writer's Almanac about summer family reunions. Photo by djtansey

She advised:

Click on the link to listen to Garrison Keillor read the poem aloud. It’s much better that way.

So I did. I read along while listening to the woodsy voice of the long time host of A Prairie Home Companion. It was a five minute break in the workday that was as yummy as a piece of chocolate cake. Food for the soul, indeed. Let me know if your experience is the same.

Click here to listen and read the poem, The Fat of the Land.

Happy Friday!

Will You Join Me in Chicago on July 19?

2012-07-12T13:22:55-06:00

I recently sent an email with the subject line, "Will You Join Me in Chicago on July 19?" to people who have attended my webinars and workshops over the last few years. The body of the email detailed a meetup that I've organized--dinner at a favorite restaurant near the campus of Northwestern University, my alma mater. (I'm speaking there on the 20th to a group of chemincal engineering grad students on networkiing.)

I expected only those in the Chicago area to respond.

To my surprise, I heard from someone in Oslo ("Can I get a raincheck? I'm 5,000 miles away!"), someone near London ("Sorry, I'll be in Milan that day.") and others around the US.

But the biggest surprise is when I heard from a friend in San Francisico and I replied by nudging him to get out of his comfort zone. The next day, I found an email in my inbox with the subject line, "Accepted" and in the body of the email was one sentence:

"I'll see you in 9 days."

I was stunned. Which prompted me to write a blog post titled, "Why Traveling 2,000 Miles for Dinner is Crazy Brilliant."

What I've discovered is that:

being outrageous leads to....

being remarkable leads to...

all sorts of magic.

Good stuff happens that no one could have ever planned for.

Join Me in Chicago on July 19

Wherever you are located, think about joining me for a meetup on Thurs, July 19. You’ll be in the company of interesting, accomplished people who are interested in hearing what you are up to.

Here are the details.

* What: A great meal and wonderful conversation with fascinating professionals from my community
* When: Thurs, July 19, at 6:30pm
* Where: Dave’s Italian Kitchen (davesik.com), 1635 Chicago Ave, Evanston
* RSVP by 5pm ET on July 18 to carol[at] myalumnilink.com. I need to give the restaurant a count the day before.

Bonus: If you travel from another state to get to Chicago, I will pay for your dinner. (Hear that, my friends in Wisconsin, Indiana, and Michigan?)

I can’t wait to see who shows up!

100 Days and 5 Minutes To Spread Beauty Across the Miles

2012-06-27T11:16:07-06:00

I wandered into a treasure trove of beauty today, when I went to this fine art photographer's site, davidleaser.com, and found stunning pictures of flowers. The best part is that he makes his photographs available as free e-cards! 100 spectacular visuals of exquisite flowers with names like Peruvean Dancer and Pretty Much Picasso and Solar Flare, with a few scenes of Hawaiian landscapes thrown in for good measure. Note: The photo above is not one by David Leaser, but is indicative of the style and visual impact of his work. The photo above is by firepile.

I immediately sent an e-card to a dear friend who I had coffee with yesterday, to thank her for her wisdom, witnessing, and kinship. We had a 90-minute heart-to-heart talk that left me feeling filled up and grateful for her friendship.

So here's a gift and a challenge:

For the next 100 days, pick one person in your life to be the recipient of a David Leaser e-card.
Tell the recipient why you thought of them for this e-card.

This should take all of 5 minutes each day.

Don't forget to savor every moment of the process--from picking one gem out of the 100 e-cards, to thinking of why the recipient comes to mind, to writing a few heartfelt words.

Post your comments here and let's see what we create, together!

Summer Solstice Virtual Party on June 20

2012-06-18T22:03:11-06:00

Every year, in honor of the longest day of the year, a friend throws a Summer Solstice party. It’s a wonderful reason to get together—a backyard celebration with food, music, and good conversation.

And now, in a digital world, where friends can be across the globe, it’s a little harder to gather. But let’s try anyway…

Join me on Weds, June 20 at 3pm ET/noon PT for a live conference call where we’ll have:

Good conversation—I’ll answer as many career-related questions as I can in sixty minutes. Come ready to engage. Or just stop by to say hi. Either way, it will be fun to hear your voice.

Food and drinks—So far, this is one area that the Internet hasn’t figured out. Instead, I’ll raffle off two tasty career development offerings:

Break Out of Your Bubble Starter Pack, worth $97

Discover Your Brand Story Program, worth $97

TO RSVP: Email me, carol [at] myalumnilink [dot] com with the subject line "I'm in!"

Details for attending:

Listening method: Phone + Web Simulcast
Phone number: (303) 390-0043
PIN Code: 252539#
To attend, visit:
http://InstantTeleseminar.com/?eventID=30457317

2-Day Summer Solstice Sale

In addition to partying, make use of the longest day of the year to work on your career. Two of my most popular career development products are on sale for just two days:

In a career rut? Jump start your career with advice from expert speakers on key topics--from burnout to interviewing to social media. Click here to get the Break Out of Your Bubble Starter Pack. Use discount code, “Summer” to get $30 off the regular price of $97. The code expires on June 20 at midnight ET.

Ready to stand out in the marketplace? The Discover Your Brand Story Program is designed to help you create a compelling and memorable LinkedIn profile. Click here for more info. Use discount code, “Summer” to get $30 off the regular price of $97. The code expires on June 20 at midnight ET.

Whether it's working on your career or gathering with friends, I hope you'll enjoy the extra minutes of daylight this week.

Being Well-Used

2012-06-14T14:31:48-06:00

This morning I had a phone conversation with a college friend. It's been decades since we lived down the hall from each other in the dorm. Both of our careers have evolved in ways that we couldn't have imagined when we were 18 years old.

I was calling my friend to get advice on the college admissions process for my son, who will be a high school senior in the fall. My friend, "Mary" runs a staff of counselors at an elite private secondary school in a big metro area. She's good at her job, partly because she loves it, but also because she's been on the other side of the table, having previously worked in admissions for a top private university. Photo by Kelvin Kevin_Gan

In the course of 30 minutes, she told me facts and tips that only someone who is immersed in the college admissions process would know. This is stuff that isn't found in any book at Barnes and Noble, nor in the heads of the average high school counselor. More than once, I asked, "How do you know this stuff?" To which she replied, "I'm in the loop." Then she said, "Well, it helps to have been doing this work for decades."

What struck me most was how eager my friend was to help me. She asked many questions, not just about my high school senior, but also about my older son's experience after starting college last year. At the end of our conversation, she cheerfully said, "If you have any other questions, give me a call. I'd be happy to help." I was grateful for her offer.

When I told my husband about our conversation, I mentioned how "Mary" was eager to lend her expertise and be valued for it. To which my husband said, "I think everyone wants to show what they know and be recognized for it, not just Mary."

It's true. We all want to be well-used. In a follow-up email, "Mary" wrote: "I love my job and I am thrilled for the chance to share inside secrets with friends and family."

We each have so much to give and in return, we ask for so little. A simple thank you is enough.

My hunch is that this is not what most people experience in the workplace on a daily basis--applying their expertise AND being acknowledged for it. We spend far too much time seeing and pointing out what's wrong, rather than seeing what's right.

Pure brilliance, born from years of experience, a strong curiosity, an innate talent, and passion for our work is just waiting to be seen and called out. Be the one who gives someone the thrill of being well-used. Photo by ~Willa~

The Road to Recovery, One Year Later

2012-05-31T10:00:00-06:00

I feel different today than I did a year ago. It's not just that I'm a year older. I'm a decade wiser. Unfortunately, the price of wisdom is often a painful life experience. In my case, it was hitting burn out last summer.

My biggest concern at the start of this year was this:

After regaining my mojo, how would I prevent myself from old patterns and habits kicking in and taking me down the same path to burnout?

Several things have helped. I offer this list as a starting point if you are finding yourself struggling with similar challenges:

Create a framework for understanding the path to burnout and making course corrections. My friend, Richard Smith, recently did a webinar on burning out, helping participants identify symptoms and create their own action plan for reversing the downward trend. I wrote about my take-aways from the webinar in my new career blog in a post titled, "Breaking the Cycle of Burning Out". I've known Richard for nearly a decade. I'm thrilled he started blogging this year, as he has so much to share, in a way that is not preachy, but rather in the context of a fellow traveler. Reading his blog, Searcher-Seeker is like sitting down to a kitchen table for a conversation with an old friend. A friend who is wise enough to provide more questions than advice.

Work smarter. I became curious as to how the brain works, having experienced my brain as a much more limited resource while recovering. (My brain literally "became tired" before the end of the day.) I educated myself with books. Two in particular stand out--Your Brain at Work and The Willpower Instinct. Once I read these books, I realized that sometimes, the odds are stacked against me. So I can go easy on myself, take a break, and rein in my ambitions--all in service to getting more done, with better results.

Increase awareness of patterns that have sabotaged you in the past. Learn how to "get into your flow" on a consistent basis. I enrolled in a six-month coaching program with Michele McHall, who has helped me identify the "Racehorse" that has driven me so relentlessly in the past. Slowly, I am changing my habits of thinking and behaving and nurturing parts of me that have been disconnected and neglected. One of the unexpected benefits is that my relationship with time is changing. Things take less time than I think they will. When I'm in the flow, I have more time throughout the day for the other parts of my life, not just my biz. I'm moving towards Healthy Wholeness, my theme for this year. It has taken intentional practice along with increased self-awareness to get here, as well as a loving guide on the journey. I'm glad I'm making the effort.

Align your work with the life you want. You would think this would be a no-brainer me, after being on my own for nearly a decade. But just like a ship can drift just a few degrees off of a planned route, and find itself thousands of miles later in a strange place, it can be the same with businesses. My business coach, Pamela Fischer, has helped me find my sweet spot as an entrepreneur, and integrate my life with my work. Starting from the core of who I am, and then adding on savvy business consulting, has made a huge difference in how I work today. My work with Pamela has given me hope that my efforts will lead to a more sustainable business, one that allows for both a healthy income and a enjoyable lifestyle. One does not have to be sacrificed in service to the other.

Live a different life, at a different pace. I like to tell people that it feels as if I'm wired differently now. I don't think I could go at the same pace I did before burning out. I also know that this new lifestyle is about giving priority to the things that keep me in balance--long walks, time with my family, naps, unscheduled blocks of time in my calendar, blogging, gardening, reading. And more importantly, I have confidence and faith. The confidence to work at a different pace and the faith that whatever doesn't get done today, is better left undone until tomorrow. Or the next week. It all works out.

One year later, I am so much better off. I'm calmer. My days are more enjoyable. I'm in the flow more consistently. I'm living more on purpose.

Many thanks to not just Richard, Michele, and Pamela, but the many other friends and family who have helped me on my journey. I'm grateful.