Articles
When good enough is good enough. And when it’s not.
There are some roles in my life that I’d LIKE to master. And I likely won’t.
Y’know: Hallowe’en costume sewer, flat tire fixer, origami folder, rock climber, devoted skin care regimen follower (or, at a minimum expert makeup applier), igloo-builder, runner, speller (writing “regimen” right first time around would be cool), painter (of walls), reverse parallel-parker, Wordpress wrangler, gardener, paella-maker, photographer, designer (of like, everything), and so on.
It’s possible that my life would be fitter, simpler, more playful and less expensive if I mastered all the above.
Possible.
But frankly, I’m “good enough” in all of those roles. And that’s good enough.
And there are some roles in my life that I’d really like to master. And as such, I invest time and energy in deepening into practice.
Yogini. Painter (of art). Teacher.
But when I roll out my mat, survey the blank canvas, approach the flipchart, I recognize how long the road to mastery is, AND I imagine how delightful the pursuit will be.
I know these are important to me…and I also know they’re not the calling of my soul. Besides, I’m good enough and working towards great.
The roles that are REALLY important to me? The ones I really REALLY want to master?
Mother. Coach. Writer. Partner. Speaker. Leader.
Yeah…THOSE are the roles that matter to me.
Profoundly.
And in the shadows of those roles, the Impostor Complex lies in wait. When someone projects “fabulous mother” or “great partner” onto me, it takes effort to find Thank You. My mind scans to all the places where that’s simply not felt true.
(In honesty, Speaker, Leader, and Coach aren’t quite as springloaded these days, as I’ve been doing some pretty deep work in all of these roles. I hear the lies of the Impostor Complex and I can move along.)
But Writer? Oh how Writer haunts me. Not with shoulds and musts and oughttas. But with deep yearning. Heart-pounding, soul-shuddering desire. And the no-holds-barred assault of the Impostor Complex.
Nothing quite like telling, like, EVERYONE you’re writing a book to bring on the Impostor Complex in all of its ferocious glory. Seemingly impassible.
But most insightful. Reminds you just how close something lives to your heart. JUST how much it matters.
Every time I run my Step into Your Starring Role Coaching program, I pick the next role I ALSO want to step into. When I heard the words of a former participant, I knew in an instant which role it needed to be:
“There are plenty of places in our lives where we feel like Impostors. But it’s the role that we want the MOST that has us feeling the MOST like an Impostor. And that’s why we need Step into your Starring Role.”
This time, the role I’m stepping into is capital-W ‘Writer’.
Because it’s the scariest place for me to look. And it’s where “good enough” simply isn’t good enough.
Your soul knows when “good enough” is true AND when it’s an excuse. Ask for discernment. (Tweet this)
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.
Hearing crickets (or, maybe you’re not going crazy)
About two years ago, I went into a pet shop to grab cat litter and heard a cricket chirping away. Without giving it too much thought, I made up the story that the little critter snuck his way in via a bag of feed and was holed up in the ceiling rafters, singing his song ‘til his death.
(I also imagined that the cashier couldn’t wait for it to die. It’s a sound that would most certainly get annoying anywhere but in a garden on a summer’s evening with a chilled glass of sangria.)
Every time I’ve passed the pet shop since, a vision of a little cricket carcass up in the ceiling tiles has flashed before my eyes.
And then this silent question:
Did I REALLY hear that cricket?
And then this narrative:
Huh. Maybe I didn’t. Maybe I imagined it, or it was part of one of those waking dreams. Odd, but not the oddest one I’ve had. I mean, it was the dead of winter. How impossible that a cricket would find it’s way into a store and survive in the rafters for like, three months? Unlikely, to be sure.
Every.single.time. And I pass that pet shop a LOT.
Passed it again yesterday.
And saw this.
Aha. I finally have my answer.
I’ve spent the last two years passing that sign, not actually SEEING it and continuing to give time and space to that nonsensical narrative.
Sometimes we doubt what we know to be true. And we even ignore the signs that are right there.
Stop doing that. (I will too.)
Or more helpfully:
Pay attention to the divine winks that remind you what you already know, even when you’ve chosen to forget.(Tweet this)
Hold space for the possibility that you were right all along. Chances are, you were.
+++++
Okay. Now.
Maybe you think you’re hearing metaphorical crickets in your business. (See how I did that?)
No one seems to be showing up.
I’m not going to lie...You might well be.
But that doesn’t mean that your offering is wrong.
Or that your marketing it wrong.
Or that anything is wrong.
Take the time in the relative silence and root back into the why of your offering. Back to when you loved it and trusted it and it loved and trusted you. Pay attention to those divine winks who’ll lead you home. Back to that loving feeling.
In that feeling lies the truth.
And from there, show up.
And they will too.
(No more crickets…except, apparently at the pet food store.)
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.
Design your 2015…in ten minutes flat.
I want to tell you all of the magical things that happened in 2014. (Celebration loves company and you are exquisitely good company.) I want to tell you about the brilliant lights who showed up for Step into Your Starring Role (and the ways that they’ve shaped their worlds in their claimed roles). I want to say more about my dreamy collaboration with Lauren for Beyond Compare and the ripples of impact that we’re seeing from those who have stepped into the depths of the work.
I want to tell you about the conversations, the meals, the interviews, the travel, the breakthroughs, the healing, the community, the opportunities, and the highs Highs HIGHS that made 2014.
AND? The LOWS, Lows, lows of 2014. It’s all part of the glorious jumble that is this messy and blessed life.
But…I’m feeling way more called to be useful and helpful to YOU.
So let’s put the focus on YOU. Specifically, on your 2015.
I know you’re busy. I know I know I know. And? If you take me up on this wee task, I promise it will be a gift to you that you’ll thank us both for, so pour a second (third?) cup of rooibos or Peet’s and DO THIS NOW.
Write a letter to yourself from December 30th, 2015.
Remember your 5th grade teacher had you write one of these? Thrilling to see all that YOU made happen in 12 short months, wasn’t it?
Write it but good. Freeform, like you’re writing to yourself…’cause you are. Quirky, like you. Charming, like you. Effusive, like you. Truthful, like you.
It’s a letter of all that you’ve seen and experienced and won and conquered and overcome and delivered and done and healed and enjoyed in 2015. Write it from the perspective that all of these wondrous things have happened…’cause you’ve made ‘em happen.
If this takes more than ten minutes, you’re probably overthinking it. (Maybe something to consider overcoming in 2015?) And if what you write doesn't quicken your heart rate, you're probably low-balling it. (Maybe something ELSE to consider overcoming in 2015?)
Notice how the “theme” and the “word” and all other goal-setting 101 staples that you’ve been struggling to name start to reveal themselves. Notice how the plan you’ve been white-knuckling to map out starts to take shape.
And then you’ll see, really see how magical things happen when we remove ourselves from another’s plan and align with our own inner whisperings.
TAKE NOTE: This letter isn’t about the “how’s”.
Leave plenty of space for serendipity to take its place. Or put another way? Know that those “how” details are already being handled backstage by your trusty subconscious stage hands. Leave it to them for now.
Once you’ve signed “With love, from 2015 Me”, I have a request.
Let me help hold this exquisite vision of yourself for 2015.
I promise it’ll be kept in sacred confidence and held with love, care, and belief. (It’ll go straight to my personal email address…no one else on my team will see it). Just you, me and the universe will know of the joy that 2015 has in store for you.
Yes yes?
All righty then.
Write on and send it to me.
I’ll be fireside awaiting your responses.
Thank you for helping me create the magical year that was 2014.
It was.
And 2015? Phew. Hot stuff.(The word that showed up for 2015 in my own letter was "UP". THAT feels about right.)
xx
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.
‘Twas the night before Christmas Eve...
‘Twas the night before Christmas Eve and all through the house,The cats were going apeshit, like they just saw a mouse. The wrapping paper was shredded and mangled and slobbery. It looks like this house was the scene of a robbery. The stockings weren’t hung ‘cause we hadn’t finished shopping But Nat King Cole was blaring, so we were she-bopping. The oysters were chilling on their bed of crushed ice But the Kid’s not a fan, so she had some fried rice. We scurried and hurried to cook, box and wrap, Pledging tomorrow would yield ample time for a nap...
‘Twas the night before Christmas Eve, when all through the house,The cats were going apeshit, like they just saw a mouse. The wrapping paper was shredded and mangled and slobbery. It looked like this house was the scene of a robbery. The stockings weren’t hung ‘cause we hadn’t finished shopping But Nat King Cole was blaring, so we were she-bopping. The oysters were chilling on their bed of crushed ice (We forgot the Kid's aversion, so she had fried rice.) We scurried and hurried to cook, box and wrap, Pledging tomorrow would yield ample time for a nap. But that's most unlikely as our time’s far from free We’ll spend the day seeking solace down at Grandma’s tree. We’ll then join my family for Christmas Eve fun, Opening stockings with wine and boeuf bourguignonne. Christmas Day will be frantic (but playful at least) As we join Greg’s family for a loud holiday feast. In the remaining holidays we’ll reflect on the year, Counting up every last blessing, prayer and tear. 2014’s been one filled with sadness and joy Learnings upon learnings upon learnings, ahoy. As I integrate and plan and plot and scheme, I’ll carve plenty of time to allow for my dreams. Your dreams too, and the dreams of your people, (Apologies if that sounds overly sweet like a treacle). The next year promises to bring opportunities and new light, And I know so well it requires heart and courage over might. In a moment this sacred, I’m reminded of Luke, (Or Linus on-stage without fear of rebuke): 'Peace on earth to my brothers and sisters, I say, Let’s dig even deeper to share good will every day.'
With deep love (and even deeper gratitude),
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.
‘Tis the season of contradictions. (And the gift of discernment)
This year: I’m not going to pour sparkles over the shadows. I’m going allow the dark to be dark and the light to be light. I’m going to allow the sadness to be sadness and the joy to be joy. I’m going to eat the cookies and sing the hymns and cry and stomp when I am called to do so. I’m going to grieve what needs to be grieved and celebrate what wants to be celebrated. I’m going to look back, and I’m going to look forward. And I’m going to look right here, AT the mystery of the present, IN the mystery of the present.
In the quiet respite of the dark, I’ll be able to see.
You’re feeling the darkness we’re moving into, aren’t you? In spite of the holiday lights, the festive cheer, there is a weighty, contracted, even sombre energy.
Me too.
In the northern hemisphere, the light is growing dimmer and dimmer until we reach the longest night of the winter solstice. And then the sun begins its return.
But that’s just part of the story. A metaphor for the contradictions I'm feeling all around me.
We’re approaching the 10-year anniversary of my mother’s passing at the end of this month. Baking her signature Christmas cookies and singing her favourite hymns yields that paradoxical experience of feeling both her presence and her absence in the same skipped heartbeat.
In the meantime, I’m bearing witness to that painfully liminal space my daughter’s swimming in. Neither a young and innocent little girl, nor a street-wise teen. Yearning for toys under the tree and sensing that she’s “not supposed to” want what she wants.
It’s a time of well-wishing and worry. Of magic and melancholy. Of celebration and sorrow. Of grace and greed. Of hope and hopelessness. Of compassion and commercialization.
(And you know I’m not just talking about the holidays here, Loves. I’m talking about the news from around the world.)
For a light-seeking reveler like myself, it’s easy for me to turn towards the light. In fact, I can reframe dark to light so fast it would make your head spin. I know it has that effect on me.
But this year, it’s different. I’m being called to honour the need I’ve ignored for years. Instead of craning my neck towards the light, I’m going to allow myself to really be in it. To feel it. To not transmute it.
It’s scary and stifling…and somehow a complete relief. Awakening consciousness is like that.
And so, this year:
I’m not going to pour sparkles over the shadows. I’m going allow the dark to be dark and the light to be light. I’m going to allow the sadness to be sadness and the joy to be joy. I’m going to eat the cookies and sing the hymns and cry and stomp when I am called to do so. I’m going to grieve what needs to be grieved and celebrate what wants to be celebrated. I’m going to look back, and I’m going to look forward. And I’m going to look right here, AT the mystery of the present, IN the mystery of the present.
In the quiet respite of the dark, I’ll be able to see.
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.
From Amy Palko's Revolutionary Lips to Ours: A discussion with Ronna Detrick
I just finished devouring Amy Palko’s soulgift From Revolutionary Lips for the fifth time. And I will do so again and again. In her foreword, Amy says: “early readers reported back again and again this sense of being taken on a journey. And not just any journey. But one that would take them deep into their own lived experience of their body, their desire, their voice, their frustration, their loss, their wounds, their sexuality, their place, their heart, their shame, and their truth.”
I was one such early reader. But I think I was wrong. I think in this revolution, Amy’s creating an exodus, really. It may be MY journey. But it will be OUR exodus.
Dancing with Amy's words, I see it laid out like this:
The collection, the journey, the exodus, the revolution starts with a sigh. An awakening, really. A scan, an inventory of what’s here. Really here. Soft belly, stretch marks. This mysterious land with no map. To learn, by us, for us, from the inside. Oh, it’s THIS leg of the journey that we avoid. And many of us stop here. Stay here. Wishing there was a map. Sipping tea and shrugging shoulders with resignation. But when the tea’s gone cold and the prospect of not moving forward becomes unbearable, we rise from our chairs. And we walk to the edges of oblivion. To the depths beckoning to be explored. The wounds of broken spaces, Scabby places. We will smell the rotting of pain and taste the metallic blood of grief. We force ourselves to stay here, probing the toothache of the soul, because we know it’s here that the questions reveal their gold. And yes, we know they’ve locked people up for less. But we must keep looking ‘round corners to see what’s here. Twists and turns. Collars flipped up to guard our necks from the chill. Until we see the glow. There it is. What we’ve hidden for so very long. What we’ve silenced. What we’ve ignored. Our desires. Ready to be reclaimed. Ready to be chosen. Again and again. Ready to take us home.
Yeah. It’s like that.
It must be like that.
+++++
I wanted to talk to my beloved friend (and this week, I'm thrilled to have her as my house guest!) Ronna Detrick about this business of wanting and owning our desires.
Here's the poem I've chosen to read and to discuss with her. May it lead you home.
Latent
The veil of ambivalence settles close to the skin when desire lies latent - tamped down by stories of excess and extravagance. Oh, she's too much, we say, all the while denying ourselves the permission we seek to want what we want without shame without fear without
Ahhhhh.
Please consider this questions and DO share in the comments (or over on my Facebook page for Amy and Ronna to see):
Who would you be if you could want what you want without shame, without fear, without...?
Thank you, Ronna. And thank you Amy, for the gifts upon gifts of this collection.
++++
Amy Palko is the creatrix of Red Thread Voices – a publishing house that aims to offer a home to the voice of exiled feminine, She is also a goddess guide, poet, photographer and lecturer whose work has been featured internationally. She lives in Edinburgh, Scotland with her husband and three teenage children, in their home that overlooks the deep harbour, and the wide mouth of the River Forth as it opens up to swallow the cold waters of the North Sea.
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.