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Celebrating imperfectionism
One of my very first boyfriends was C-O-O-L. Really and truly cool. Scarily cool. Like, rock star cool of the “not warm” variety. One day, we took a stroll on the boardwalk. He stumbled over a popped board and I made the mistake of giggling. (Sidebar: it wasn’t my intention to be unkind. Physical humour fractures me…pinnacle of hilarity for me is a football to the groin…it’s sad but true). He didn’t find it remotely amusing and went back to said plank to hammer the crap out of it with his heel. That was our last date. He couldn’t handle not being perfect in that moment and I couldn’t handle anyone taking themselves that seriously.
A beautiful thing is never perfect. – Egyptian proverb
The above quote circulated like wildfire in the twittosphere last week leaving me to wonder about my own relationship with perfectionism. I know it’s entirely futile and YET, I still bump up against it from time to time.
I succumbed long ago to the fact that I am a generalist through and through. I am good at many things and haven’t perfected anything. My risotto’s good, but I’ll not be writing any cookbooks any time soon. My garden is pretty, though admittedly, I ALWAYS prune the wrong things at the wrong time. Much like my words…I don’t always get them right (case in point...you may have noticed the made up word in the title of this post). I am not perfect. Not by a long stretch.
In my five year old daughter’s eyes, however, I am perfect, and so’s her daddy. We are perched on a pedestal, bathed in love and light with rose petals at our feet and rainbows in our hair. This is lovely, warm and when I think about a time when she becomes a petulant adolescent who “wishes she were never born”, my eyes well up and I wish time could just stand still (more on the crying later).
The thing is, this devoted adulation, lovely as it is, has NOTHING to do with the parents that we are, or the job we’re doing and EVERYTHING to do with her entire sense of security depending on it. It’s just a matter of time before she starts to see what we know to be true. We are fallible and flawed. Oh, the inhumanity! In fact, the gilding has already flaked off of our cool-factor.
And that’s good. The moment she invites us down from the pedestal is the moment that she will be stepping into her own and truly on her path to her fullest. It means that she’ll be developing her own independence and brand of strong convictions. Starting to galvanize her own sense of right and wrong (rooted in some good ol’ fashioned values like respect, natch).
So I am fine with not being perfect (like I had a choice). In fact, I celebrate it from time to time…by laughing, a LOT. Sometimes I laugh so hard I cry. My overt sensitivity may well be one of my favourite personal imperfections. It serves me well in my work and in my love for others.
Feel like celebrating your favourite personal imperfection?
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The Right to Read
I love this country. I really, really do. I write often about how fortunate I feel to have been blessed to live in Canada…with abundant resources, accessible healthcare, relative peace and a generally likeable demeanour. Yup…I read those words too and know there is a LOT to be debated, but for the moment, let’s just say I’m proud to be a Canadian. I also really love the library. I love the smell of yet-to-be-discovered possibility. I love the calm and hushed reverence of people deep in thought. I love the look of wonder I see in my daughter’s eyes when she realizes she can take out ANY book she wants…for three weeks (which is kind of like “for keeps”). I especially love that it’s publicly funded and will likely remain that way for a good long time.
And finally, I love to read….blogs, magazines, books. Love it all. Books on the go right now, depending on what my mood calls for: Water for Elephants, Good to Great and Things Fall Apart. All friggin’ brilliant.
What I DISLOVE (hate is SUCH a strong word) is my new-found knowledge that 836,000 blind and partially-sighted Canadians need to count on a charity (CNIB) for library services that us lucky ducks with decent vision take for granted. (Full disclosure…my husband works at CNIB...felt like sharing that).
And while CNIB is doing the best they can with the resources they have (i.e. fund-raised bucks), only 80,000 titles have been made accessible. It costs A LOT to convert to Braille, create audio CDs with accessibility features and manage various digital formats. And Water for Elephants, Good to Great and Things Fall Apart aren’t in the 80,000. Wrong, wrong, wrong. The blind and partially sighted aren’t deserving of reading about Collins’ pivotal Hedgehog concept that will help them become their BEST selves? What the?
Let’s be clear. This rant isn’t about CNIB not delivering enough. It’s about asking our federal, provincial and territorial governments to step up and shoulder the cost to deliver accessible library services for the blind and partially sighted - in much the same way they fund local public libraries. Sweden and the United States get it. Why don’t we?
You can help by writing a letter to your Premier and another to Harper. You'll find template letters here as well as more information about CNIB’s Right to Read campaign.
I may not be overtly political, but injustices do not sit well with me. Reading ought to be an accessible right for all. Period.
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.
Get it? Got it? Good.
How do you react when someone doesn’t “get it”? You know…your idea, your point, how they’ve hurt you etc. Does it:
A) Frustrate you? Does it feel isolating, perplexing, and downright rude? Do you filibuster your point in an attempt to win over the other side?
Or, does it:
B) Annoy you but you let it roll away? Maybe your inner dialogue goes something like: “meh, she just doesn’t get it” and the implied “and she never will” isn’t required.
I have been a camper in cabin A for most of my life. Particularly in my personal life, I very much dislike people not getting it. I generally used to try a step-wise approach starting with reasoned articulation which would beget cajoling which would beget influence which would beget whining (am ashamed to say) which would beget strong-arming acquiescence. Attractive, non? I do not recommend this approach to everyone (read: anyone). On the plus side, I would “win” because people would EVENTUALLY see the point I was trying desperately to make…they may not have LIKED my stance, but connection was made and comprehension achieved, albeit begrudgingly.
The down side of this approach is pretty obvious, isn’t it? It’s exhausting for both sides…and I come off looking like a pill. A sweaty, spent pill who browbeat her way to a flimsy and tenuous victory.
Part of the problem stemmed from the fact that my need to be understood did not distinguish its audience. It did not care if you “get” ME (or are one of my peeps) or if I get you. This is the big, fat, ugly flaw in the approach. It’s an expenditure of energy that may well not be requited. So I stopped (or *mostly* stopped) doing it.
Here’s what’s helped me and maybe you too. See if you can connect with why it’s so important to be understood. Yes, it must be a strong value of yours and one that should not be trampled on, and there is a way to save this for those who matter. Discriminate! Go ahead…do it...just this once! Save your gift of persuasion for the big battles and for those whose opinions really matter to you. Anyone else and you’re just contributing to the hot air. And Lord knows, there’s enough of that goin’ ‘round.
Campers from cabin B…your turn.
If you’re a “let’s just drop it” kind of person and you really CAN drop it, kudos to you. Seriously…that’s impressive. If, however, you are able to drop it externally but internally aren’t cool with it, there’s some work here. Assuming we’re talking about someone who generally gets you but doesn’t get IT, by dismissing them in this point, you’re missing out on the opportunity to share and grow closer to them. You’re also missing out on the chance to help them “get” it with others too. Connectivity and communion…lost. You may also be dipping your toes in the pool of martyrdom…walking away from what you may well REALLY want on account of righteousness. Oooooh, sting-y.
Example:
Resentful Writer: “My family doesn’t get my need for quiet time so I can write. So I don’t get to write…fine.” (hint: it is soooo not fine, but you, gentle reader, knew that, didn’t you?)
Me: “Have you been clear about that request?”
RW: “I shouldn’t have to. They should know it’s important. They should know by now that if I don’t let my creative juices flow onto the page and keep them bottled up that they’ll just turn to vinegar and I’ll be just as bitter.”
Me: “Uh huh. Great metaphor…you really would do well to capture that stuff on paper. But they don’t get it, do they? So help them. What else can you try?”
So, off goes our RW and says something along these lines to the family: “I’m asking that you respect my need to write. It’s not just important to me, it’s essential. I need 45 minutes a day. Maybe more. You’ll know when I’m in the zone because the door to my office will be closed. Respect it please and I love you”.
Now they’re in. They “get it”. It’s clear and so’s the ask.
All that’s left in your office is you, a wide berth of respect, the clickety clack of the keys and Mozart’s Symphony No. 29 (or K’Naan if that’s your thing).
Whether you unrolled your sleeping bag in cabin A or B, what wants to be noticed here is really the who, what and why. To wit: “She doesn’t get it” = where the "who" (she) is someone whose buy-in matters, "what" is the “getting” (meaning comprehending and not necessarily agreeing) and "why" is the importance of “it” as the real issue, with no other baggage tossed in the mix.
And from that place of getting "it", we can get each other and get what we want...clean and clear communication.
Whew.
All campers from both cabins can come on out now and gather by the fire now to sing "kumbaya"...it's safe because we all get it now.
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.
Powerlessness
{This is about as personal a post as I’ve written…if you don’t feel like you need to take on anyone else’s sadness this week, perhaps you could check back with me next week…in the meantime, you may want to check out this link for a list of reputable charities vetted by CNN and reportedly respected by NGOs. Thank you for coming by. Peace, love and please hug your people}.
Like most citizens of the globe, I have spent the past couple of days feeling helpless, sad, angry, impotent and frustrated by the catastrophe in quake-ravaged Haiti. Each image we’re shown is more searing than the last and it’s nearly impossible to sustain the viewing for any amount of time.
Also like most citizens of the globe, I’ve texted money and made on-line donations…cash is needed badly. After the donations are made, I then sit back and wait to feel satiated by this token effort. Nothing happens. No moment of calm, no moment of pride, no moment of relief.
So, I stew in my discomfort. So many lives, so many dreams, so many children. Fear, pain, uncertainty, and panic. What do I know of these? Blessedly little.
Flitting and fretting and drinking herbal tea, I’ve haunted around the house long after the babe and husband have fallen asleep, gentle snores reminders of comfort and full bellies.
I try to put on my pragmatic hat and am unable to bear it for any length of time. The magnitude of loss defies rational explanation. Then I try to don my coach’s hat and look for different perspectives. Also a poor fit in this moment.
So I sip the tea and I wait for the powerlessness to wane.
(On Boxing Day, 2004, the tsunamis in the Indian Ocean killed 230,000 people in 14 countries. My mother was dying in hospital at the time and passed away on the 27th of December. I vaguely recall being saddened to hear the nurse who covered my mother’s face with linen had family in Indonesia but recall little beyond that. That is what happens in grief. We make it about us.)
Here I am, citizen of this world, seeing hundreds of thousands of lives shattered and what am I doing? Waiting to feel better...still making it about me. Normal, I suspect. And weak. So very very weak.
I’ve turned to Twitter for inspiration and have indeed been inspired by how that community has mobilized $$, creatively and compassionately. Beautiful to behold in its grassroots reach.
What I’ve also seen, is people saying “no” to feeling powerless and stepping into their power.
Kelly Diels started the inspired Help Haiti Blog Challenge. Her words and her actions are her power. Clearly.
Danielle is spreading the word and the love and is donating a firestarter session for cash to Haiti (her firestarter session will knock your socks off)…this is her power.
Lisa is hosting a fundraising brunch. Her power is in connectivity.
There are thousands of others stepping into their power…going to ground zero, holding and nurturing. Healing and loving. Moving and digging.
My power lies in my ability to be grateful and capacity to love and be loved. This was a gift from my mother (she used to call me at my "important" advertising job to tell me, no matter WHAT I was doing at the time of the call - in a client meeting, having/giving a review etc - to tell me that she just saw the most beautiful butterfly and thought of me).
So, in honour of my power of gratitude: I am grateful today. My husband, child and I live under one sturdy roof. I am doing the work in this world that I love and I have a fridge full of food, money in the bank and live in a country rich in resources. I will spread this gratitude around, continue to make donations as I feel so moved and speak to my daughter about empathy and disaster in the language appropriate for a tender-hearted 5 year old. I will be where my clients need me to be and help them to find their power.
I would hug each and every one of you (heart to heart, as my mother taught me) if I thought that would heal in some way the massive amounts of pain that are palpable in this moment. It wouldn’t, but I don’t know what else to give.
Please step into your power, whatever it is…our neighbours need you.
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.
Gesundheit
One ordinary day last week, I decided to change my sneeze. Just like that. Now, I had never given my sneeze much thought. It’s an involuntary convulsive reaction and kind of gross. Not much to consider there. (Truth be told, the only sneeze I’ve ever really taken much note of belonged to a friend way back in high school…she had the most adorable way of sneezing…a series of up to 15 little “kyew kyew”s...entertaining as anything to witness...especially during Macro Economics). While no one could call MY sneeze adorable, I’d say it’s always been just this side of polite. Reserved, even.
Overcome with a sneezing fit last week, I decided to just have at ‘er. I was pissed off about something and decided to time a good belly roar with said sneeze. My “achoo” became an AAAAAAACHOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!
I scared the bejesus out of my cats and nearly blew my brains out. It was the full expression of my very own sneeze. And it felt amazing. I committed right then and there to ever-more sneeze with my heart and soul. Why not? It’s easy and it’s free.
Got me thinking…where else am I holding back in the name of politesse? Among other things:
Opinions – I tend to shy away from conflict…except to resolve others’ (Libran peace-maker, don’t you know). This means I to keep my mouth shut when I really want to let you know that it’s NOT okay to be late for a meeting. It devalues my time and is simply not cool.
Advice – I wish oh wish oh wish I had have said to that pining young man on the subway “just give her your card before she gets off at the next stop…she doesn’t see the adoration in your eyes and the way that you’re envisioning a beautiful life together. Go now…NOW!” But I didn't.
I see so many others holding back too: affection, compliments, self-care, generosity, wisdom, gratitude, enthusiasm, energy, optimism, humour, kindness, leadership, originality, spirituality, honesty, forgiveness. As a society, we can be pretty stingy about spreading this honey around. At what cost?
So here’s my invitation to you. Just once, put aside all the boffo reasons that you SHOULDN’T gushingly express your gratitude and just do it…loud and proud like a wasabi-induced sneeze.
You just may like it...and I'm positive it's good for your health.
Gesundheit!
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.
How smart are you(r goals)?
Today is January 8, 2010…one business week into the new year. Tired of talking about goals yet? A little? It has become apparent to me that the single-biggest reason people don’t “achieve” their stated goals is kinda simple. Their goals just aren’t very smart. Pretty judg-y for a Life Coach, aren’t I? Well here’s what I mean.
You may well know already that SMART is a mnemonic (man, I should find a way to use that word more often) used for goal-setting:
Specific – is the goal clear?
Measurable – will you know if progress is being made and when the goal is achieved?
Attainable – is it within reach?
Realistic – are you willing and able to do it?
Timely – what’s the deadline?
This is all very good and sound and makes perfect sense. Of course. AND it kinda sorta makes me yawn involuntarily.
There have been many variations on the theme (I’ve seen “significant”, “stretching”, “simple”, “meaningful”, “manageable”, “actionable”, “appropriate”, “achievable”, “relevant”, “trackable”, and “tangible” to name a few) but by FAR my favourite riffs come from the good folks at CTI. Instead of “realistic” (which, let’s face it, is the same as attainable) they’ve taught us coaches to play with “RESONANT” and instead of “timely”, we get “THRILLING”!!!! Fwoosh-kapow-ZING!!!
Resonant – Think authentic. This isn’t something you read in a magazine and thought…“I guess if it worked for Jennifer Aniston, well then”. If it’s resonant, you’ll not hear the watch words “should”, “ought to” or “have to”…instead you’ll hear: “Yeah Baby!” Deep in your being, you just know it’s right for you. It honours your values and it is going to be fun. Mmm-hmm.
Thrilling – Do a gut check. Does it make your tummy tumble? Scare the bejesus out of you? No? Then it’s likely not thrilling for you. And remember to check your judgment at the door here…this is YOUR goal. Writing a book on time management would be the complete antithesis of thrilling for me, and it may well set the butterflies fluttering in your rib cage. Luckily, it’s YOUR goal, not mine. So, go for it.
Smart goals will make you sweat…they will challenge you and stretch you. They may be unpleasant at times and you may well want to throw in the towel, but the overall resonance and thrill of the goal will keep it alive and well. And better yet…achieved.
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.