Articles
Waiting for Your Big Break May Break You
Big Breaks can make life easier. They feel like ginormous affirmations that we are really on the right path to THERE. They are universal winks of “I see you Kid…and it is good”.
So of course, we want ‘em. Bad. We yearn for them.
The tweet that will change your trajectory. The windfall of grace at just the right moment.
But have you ever had a Big Break and felt a bit, erm, empty? Like: THAT was what I’ve been waiting for?
Or, have had the Big Break and then felt like you’ve fumbled it. That it was the ONE CHANCE and there will never, ever, EVER be another?
Or, possibly even worse, leveraged the Big Break but then never really allowed yourself to feel good about it…’cause after all: you “just got lucky that one time”, or: you “didn’t really deserve it”. (And THOSE, my friends, are two of the many calling cards of the Impostor Complex.)
Or, waited until the Big Break came…only to never have it show up.
Oh. Did you just feel that in your chest? Me too.
Waiting for the Big Break may break you. It may break your spirit. It may compromise your belief in YOU. Your genius. Your sacred gifts.
Know what’s a much, MUCH saner way?
It’s not sexy, and you’ve heard it before, but here goes:
Commit. Do the work. Get good.
Fairy Godmothers, silver bullets, magic pills, lottery windfalls…listen, I’m not going to tell you that they don’t exist. Because they might. Because they do.
And sure, leave a little white space for magic, serendipity, and chance, but waiting for them to show up as part of your strategic planning? Mmmmm, no.
Write. Immerse. Run. Bake. Practice. Teach. Expand. Fail. Sing. Train. Redirect. Preach. Sell. Pitch. Ask. Rehearse. Speak. Draw. Coach. Paint. Bead. Dance. Learn. Deepen.
Again and again and again. Imbue it with your truth, your heart, your integrity, and your authenticity.
Practice isn’t about making something perfect; it’s about making something possible. – Justine Musk
And...
...look up from time to time. Take your own breaks. Make your own breaks. Revel in your commitment. Notice how far you’ve come. Breathe in your good. And then get back to it.
You are required to show up. And in that way, the universe DOES see you. And it IS good.
Click here for my free training:
Five ICONIC shifts leaders use to overcome Imposter Complex.
Everything’s a teacher
It is an unmitigated wonder that my daughter still tells me anything.
Because as much as I do my best to simply listen, to simply be, to offer her my presence and my unconditional love, I fall short. Often. And instead, I counsel. I point out the opportunities, the possibilities, the other ways, the other paths. It has got to be annoying as all hell for the poor child.
But yet, there it is:
“What are you learning?”
Can’t stop. Won’t stop. Because it’s a good question. Maybe the BEST question.
Here’s what we know: comparison is a teacher. A flashing red beacon that clearly and unapologetically shows us what we want as embodied by those that we compare up to and clearly shows us what we don't want as embodied by those we compare down to.
I speak and write often and at great length about how the Imposter Complex is a reliable teacher about what matters to us.
But guess what else is a teacher?
E-V-E-R-Y-T-H-I-N-G
Procrastination
Discomfort
Envy
Fear
Anger
Lethargy
Worry
Perfectionism
But also:
Joy
Excitement
Ease
Pleasure
Delight
Flow
Satisfaction
And so worth repeating: joy.
Alllllllllllllll of it.
So the real question is:
What are you learning?
And then:
What are you going to do about it?
A couple of ideas.
Choose differently.
Change course.
Do something.
Do better.
Say no.
Say yes.
Show up.
Stand up.
Speak up.
SHINE UP.
Vote. TODAY.
Easier said than done? Could be. But the alternative is really not acceptable, is it?
Agreed.
Check out my free training on the 5 Shifts Our Clients Use to Overcome the Imposter Complex and Grow their Income and their Impact
Where I pull back the curtain on five shifts to start raising voices, rates, and hands all while being the kind, congruent, and authentic leader I know you to be.
On sacred socks and bursting baskets. (Or, honouring what we say matters most.)
The other morning, I woke up from a sweet sleep and had something I needed to write down.
Maybe it was for you.
Maybe it was for me.
But I’m pretty sure it was for all of us.
I’m standing in a house I don’t recognize, talking to a woman I don’t know.
In her arms she holds a wicker basket of clothes. The basket is overflowing with clean laundry.
She’s struggling to keep the basket level, but even as I ask her if she’d like me to share the load or suggest that she set it down, she shrugs me off and instead asks me what I do for work.
I say succinctly, "I help people find the parts of themselves that they have dropped along the way. The parts that, when reintegrated, make them whole."
"Oh," she says, "That sounds good and important. Sacred work."
"It is," I agree earnestly, "And I am so deeply honoured to get to do it."
I notice that she has dropped a pair of socks.
I bend down to pick them up. "Here you go," I say.
"Oh, thank you. Those are my favourite socks. They were given to me by my beloved great-aunt, may she rest in peace. Feel how soft they are. Cashmere. They are my luckiest ones and make me so happy when I wear them. I honestly can’t live without them."
I reach over to add them back to her basket, but they slip off again.
"Can you hold them for me?" she asks, "I just can’t seem to keep them in my basket."
"Sure," I say.
We chat for a while longer. Me holding her socks. She holding her basket of clean clothes. I see generic white tube socks poking out. Tube socks that aren’t tied to her ancestry. That don't bring her luck. That aren’t part of her soul. They may be functional, yes. But they are not essential to her joy.
And then I have another thought.
"Honey?" I say. (By now we're close enough for me to call her "honey".) "I’m pretty good at holding these socks. Haven’t dropped ‘em once. But here’s what I’m wondering: wouldn’t it be better if you held onto them? You love them so. Maybe you could put the basket down, reorganize, take some stuff out, and make some room for what you say is important."
"That’s a good idea," she says.
And that’s when I woke up.
I woke up to the fact that those socks are your writing. Your calling. The parts of your soul that want attention.
The things you want to claim that you know are deeply important to you. That you say are deeply important to you. The things that no one else has any business holding on your behalf.
We know, of course, that the holiness isn’t in the tube socks. The holiness isn’t even in what you say you want. The holiness is in owning up to what you say you know and want and doing right by it. In claiming it.
And that’s our job as visionaries, change-makers, and leaders.
Your job. My job.
To honour the things we say we want. The things we say are important.
We visionaries, change-makers, and leaders do not allow our gifts to slip through our fingers into the waiting hands of others who could not, should not hold that which is intended for us and us alone.
Put the basket down, honey. Make the space. And tend to the socks.
Check out my free training on the 5 Shifts Our Clients Use to Overcome the Imposter Complex and Grow their Income and their Impact
Where I pull back the curtain on five shifts to start raising voices, rates, and hands, all while being the kind, congruent, and authentic leader I know you to be.