Choosing what is ours and gifting others what is theirs

Uncategorized
smiling young ethnic female selecting notebooks in souvenir store
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In a world filled with the pressures of consumerism, how do we know what is ours to bring into our lives and what to gift others? I am no master of this task and I have had a few experiences that seem to point me to the fact that finding and choosing is a far more intricate task than reviewing my options and going through a pro/con list. 

A few years ago, I was in NM cleaning out my mother’s house and sorting through piles of clothes and belongings she had collected over the years. My mother loved picking up beautiful jewelry, clothes, unique wooden furniture, and art. As I was sorting through her items identifying what to bring to her, what to keep in the family, and what to pass on it became very clear to me that you can recognize and appreciate the value of something whether it is beautiful, useful, interesting, trendy, a bargain or even free and, at the same time, not bring it home. Only certain items are meant for us. The discerning factor seems to be beyond its apparent value.

External influences add complexity to the process of making a choice. I grew up in a household full of fashion magazines, Vogue, Elle, and Harper’s Bazaar filled our coffee table. The exposure to these magazines and the fashion world had a very strong influence on me and the clothes I purchased in my teens and early adulthood. This was such a strong influence that it even went beyond my clothes to other choices; I worked at several trendy fashion retail stores and wanted to be a fashion designer. Luckily for me, I didn’t have the experience or support to apply to fashion school. I headed off to business school longing for a degree in communications and somehow finding myself in marketing.

When I left college, I got hired by a Fortune 500 company with a very strict dress code. I went from wearing Doc Martens, mini-skirts, and the latest fashionable trends on the streets of Boston to roaming the corporate hallways in suit skirts below my knees, pantyhose, only black, grey, or navy solid-colored suits, and plain shirts with the occasional pinstripe. No trendy fashions in that office. Although I did discover small choices and gestures to find a bit of freedom and joy in this strict dress code in ways that were only known to me, a pin placed inside my lapel or a carefully selected undergarment.

In both these scenarios, my clothes purchases were primarily at the mercy of someone else’s whims and choices. After leaving this corporate dress code, I struggled now suddenly having the full freedom of choice to select my wardrobe. I noticed and was a bit self-conscious about how much my choices had been influenced by media and external factors. I decided to ditch any fashion-related magazine and take on a bit of an experiment by wearing the most basic of clothes, plain shirts, jeans, jackets, etc. Now less conforming to external influences, I also felt no comfort, ease, or joy in my clothes. One day I was walking through a store and a shirt caught my eye and attention. I simply loved it. I bought the shirt and began to add clothes to my wardrobe because I simply loved wearing them. 

A few years later I had the pleasure of traveling to India on a mediation retreat. One day the meditation teachers decided to break up the group. The men would go play frisbee or some other fun game outdoors and the women would go shopping. I really would have preferred to go play and still, I surrendered and conformed to the day’s plan. 

The women visited several shops and eventually, we found ourselves sitting in a sari shop. The shopkeeper began presenting us with sari after sari. I wasn’t very interested and watched as others oohed and aahed over the beautiful fabric and designs. After several rounds of saris, the meditation teacher held up a sari and offered to purchase it for me. I politely declined as I wasn’t attracted to it and I didn’t want or need it. I was grateful she accepted my decline of her gift.

A bit later the shopkeeper laid down this beautiful burgundy sari with a forest design. I practically jumped out of my seat and everything inside me said YES! I was so surprised by my reaction, and I knew at that moment this sari was meant for me. I was a bit nervous as it was more expensive than the sari offered to me earlier. My meditation teacher noticed my reaction and asked if she could buy this sari for me. Once again, I declined and shared with her that I needed to purchase this one for myself. Today over twenty years later this sari blesses my home daily, part of it hanging in my office studio and the other part in my bedroom. 

Upon arriving in India I had a similar experience clothes shopping. While we were in India, we were encouraged to wear everyday Indian punjabi or salwar outfits. Our first clothing store was filled with very beautiful and expensive punjabis and saris, all beautifully tailored. I tried a few on and I wasn’t inspired to purchase any. Most of my fellow travelers had picked up an outfit. I walked away self-consciously questioning if I had made a good choice. We later went to another store with a wide selection of beautifully colored basic cotton Punjabi outfits simply tailored. I felt like I had gone to heaven and walked away with several outfits in my arms and a grin from ear to ear. Over the next weeks, I wore these outfits with such joy and comfort; I had made some good choices.

Money often plays a factor in our purchasing choices. Sometimes the right thing to buy is the most expensive item. While at other times the right choice the most cost effective. How do you know when to make that choice? Is it simply based on your budget? I feel like here there is more to this as well and am reminded of a grocery run with a friend.

As I was pulling a jar of peanut butter down from a shelf, my friend asked me why are you buying that peanut butter? I didn’t have a good answer. He brought to my attention that the brand I had been buying was twice as expensive as many of the other selections. I hadn’t even noticed. I truly wasn’t paying attention to what I was purchasing. I was simply just picking an item off the shelf. From that point on I began to pay a bit more attention to my choices while grocery shopping. How can you find what is yours, what is best for you, without being present? Presence seems to be a key to finding what is yours.

Presence also plays a really important element in the context of gifting others. The best gifts I’ve received are often items that give me a sense that the person who gifted it to me was carefully paying attention to what might bring me joy or inspire me or what I might need that I haven’t gifted myself with. When I get a gift that feels so right, I get a sense that this person has been paying attention, that they care and were generous with their time and resources. In many ways, it feels like a blessing. 

Finding the right gift or shoes to go with that dress can take time. What I imagined as a simple purchase turns into a quest. Sometimes I abort the journey out of convenience, feeling rushed, searching without any focus, or out of fear that I will never find what I am looking for in the budget I have. Sometimes I second guess a gift or an item I’ve found and begin to overthink if it’s the right one and convince myself to make a different purchase. Almost every time I choose from there, I am not content in the long run with my choice. Here is where I long for more patience, trust, and practice through the quest. 

As I started writing this piece I didn’t know where these memories would take me. What inspired me to sit down and reflect is my longing to figure out how to help my daughters navigate all the external influences calling them to consume products. I want them to also find and create joy through the art of gifting and what they choose to have in their lives. I am grateful for the journey these memories have taken me on, and I hope to pass forward a bit of what I learned here, reflecting on my own experiences, onto them.

I know they will navigate their own journey learning these lessons and they will find their way. In the meantime, I can also support them the best practicing what I’ve learned over these years and teaching them to be present, patient and to trust the process and themselves. As one of my meditation teachers said to me years ago when I was struggling to figure out what to do about a situation “you will know when you know.”

Being our awkward selves is often what the world needs

Community, Directions, Journeying
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At times it has been awkward being myself. I haven’t fit in. I have been misunderstood. I didn’t understand. I have had a different view or experience than others. I didn’t meet someone’s expectations or didn’t read the memo about the dress code. Most of us have had those awkward moments simply being ourselves. 

What I have learned is that being awkward isn’t just about me. When I’m feeling awkward those around me are often feeling awkward too. It arises between us and if we are willing to navigate the awkwardness, the outcomes are rewarding and often mutually beneficial.

Being a non-drinker has made for plenty of awkward moments as friends gather. New friends would invite me to a gathering, and it wouldn’t occur to me to tell them beforehand that I don’t drink. There often would be this moment of almost horror on their faces as I replied to their question about what I wanted to drink with water or lemonade. Yes, their expectation of where the evening was headed, suddenly took a turn.    

Sometimes people simply don’t know what to do with us and we of them. We don’t fit their mold or expectations. Suddenly we are navigating into uncharted waters and feeling a bit uncomfortable heading into the unknown. I’ve been there myself; we have all been there.

I remember meeting a Muslim couple from Malaysia at a conference. After several days of some great conversations, as they were leaving, they showered me with gifts. I didn’t know how to respond or reciprocate; I had no gifts for them. It was awkward and a bit uncomfortable. I wanted to ask them how to navigate this and didn’t want to offend them; I didn’t say anything. Although I did accept their gifts, I missed an opportunity to get beyond how awkward I felt. After we each returned home, our connection and friendship didn’t grow. I let that awkwardness keep me from reaching out.

I admire people willing to be a bit awkward and to navigate through the awkwardness that surfaces, the people who confidently lean in, care, and allow awkwardness to guide them towards something new. They pay attention, step in, ask questions, explore, and forge a path ahead. When they navigate these awkward moments, they invite trust, connection, opportunities, change, and even joy.

When one person in the meeting addresses the white elephant in the room and asks the question everyone is wondering, although it might be awkward, everyone wins. Think about how grateful you’ve been when someone has told you the zipper on your pants was down. Awkward yes and thank goodness they spoke up. I value these people.  a

Others treat this awkwardness as a red flag; they might back away or attack. They avoid that person who told them their zipper was down the rest of the night or the person who asked the hard question. They blame the host for not communicating the dress code for the event via a text versus an email. They skip the team dinner. They don’t mention you have chocolate all over your cheek. They close down mid-journey as the situation becomes a bit awkward much like I did with the Muslim couple I met at the conference. 

Often I wonder if I had shared how uncomfortable I was receiving such gifts, with nothing to reciprocate with, what would have happened. Maybe we would have had a great conversation about the tradition of gift-giving in their culture or family. Maybe I would have returned home and sent them a gift, thanking them not only for the gift but for their willingness to share with me a bit of their lives. I lost the chance to wonder, learn, and develop a friendship. Embarrassment and a bit of discomfort got in my way.

The illusion that everything should move ahead smoothly or go a particular way can stop us from navigating those awkward moments. I have had a friend offended that I didn’t order a drink with her, and she somehow translated my lack of drinking as a judgment of hers. I would have been happy to have been her designated driver. When there is a detour in the road, most of the time taking it, being open to the path ahead, and letting go of what you expected to arise is worth it. The awkward moments provide us with detours; we choose how to navigate them. 

When we want to learn or develop a skill, awkwardness often arises. I remember sitting in a drafting class and having to ask out loud in front of the whole class how to sharpen my mechanical pencil. I had absolutely no idea, I was a bit embarrassed. I knew that if I wanted to learn this skill, I had to be a bit awkward and ask. There was no figuring this out on my own or faking this. Imagine if we met awkward social moments simply as a sign that learning is ahead of us.

Although I haven’t at times taken the detour offered by awkwardness well, I have found that the unknown destination ahead when I do outweighs the discomfort that arises from being awkward. Lean in when you feel awkward, welcome it when you notice others feeling awkward and you might be surprised what gifts arise. As I close, I am reminded of the Russian fairytale, The Fool of the World and The Flying Ship. Sometimes what the world needs of all of us is to be our awkward selves.

Where are the dishes? Finding our capacity to be genuine together

Community, Journeying
chopping boards near oven under hood
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In my twenties, I dated a man who when I came over would hide all the dirty dishes in his stove. When I arrived, his house was always neat and tidy. I had no idea about the dishes until much later. When I discovered the dishes, the challenge wasn’t the dirty dishes; the challenge was I lost my sense of knowing who he was, and in many ways, trust was lost. He was not the person he had shared with me.

I can recognize the motivation behind the hidden dishes was an attempt to be considerate.  He didn’t need to hide the dishes. What might have happened if when I came over the first time and he simply shared that keeping the kitchen clean isn’t a priority for him, that he works super long hours and when he’s off he would rather spend his time on other priorities than keeping up with the dishes each day.  

Maybe we would have had dinner and tidied up the kitchen together and we’d get time together and a clean kitchen which he appeared to value based on the fact he was hiding all those dishes from me. Or maybe we would have eaten takeout and headed out for a movie leaving the dishes right where they were. Being genuine invites real connections and builds trust in all our relationships. And yes, not everyone is going to be comfortable with all the dishes in the sink and that is OK too.

One day I was hanging out with some friends and one of their phones rang. Pete quickly picked up the phone and began to talk in a different tone of voice. We soon discovered that he had a practice of consciously changing the tone of his voice when he was at work. He had his everyday voice and then his work voice.  

We all have often heard people talking about not being able to be themselves at work and choosing to develop a work persona. Now yes, your work colleagues might not want to hear all the details of your weekend adventures. This doesn’t mean you have to be less of yourself.  You can be genuine in any community. How can we build truly trusting communities if we aren’t being genuine?

The moment, the situation, and the community you are engaging in will determine how you might engage.  The fact that we navigate these experiences differently doesn’t mean we have to be less genuine. Being genuine is finding your place in those spaces. Being genuine and authentic isn’t about sharing every nuance of your past, your hopes, or your concerns on the first date, interview, exchange, or meeting. It is not sharing every thought and judgment that crosses your mind.  Sometimes oversharing gets confused with being genuine or authentic.

Being genuine is a willingness to be yourself in the moment, to be present in the current situation, the current conversation, listening and sharing. It’s about being aware and respectful of the current situation, recognizing what is appropriate, what is needed, what is unclear, where the conversation is going, and being willing to honestly connect and share.

You don’t need to hide or fake it. You might be cautious as you enter a new community, a new relationship, a new conversation trying to find your place, identifying how you might belong. You might want to move slowly to gain awareness and gain some understanding of the situation, the team, and the new boss. You can be respectful and curious as you begin. You can respect a new culture and still be yourself. Being respectful is part of being you; it isn’t about changing who you are to belong.

Being genuine in any situation gives us the capacity to identify if you can find what you need, if can you be of service, if are we headed in the same direction, if we can find a connection here, if you need to change and if can we move together. Not every community, conversation, relationship, or path is ours to step into. We can find our way in our capacity to be genuine together. Yes this can feel awkward at times and well worth it.

The Art of Small Simple Shifts and the Power of Choice

Directions, Journeying
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In Nia we often remind our students that when they feel pain or a lack of joy or don’t feel in the groove as they dance to simply make a small shift with one movement. It is amazing how one small movement shift can completely change the dance. Never underestimate the power in the small simple shifts.   

Sometimes change chooses us and sometimes we choose change. I’ve noticed that the shift begins either through my awareness and a choice or suddenly life obliges me to change, the weather shifts, the music changes. When the need for change arises, I might find my groove again with only a small shift while at other times a complete change of direction is in order. And in both cases, each truly begins with a small shift, a small step, and a choice. 

Choosing to shift hasn’t been easy and I have often been blind that I needed a change long after signs were visible. The signs “it’s time to change” in life are much like those I’ve found on the dance floor – discomfort, pain, lack of joy, something feels off, recognizing my vision has been off, or simply feeling stuck and stagnant. Noticing the signs calling for a shift is where change begins. 

So why at times is it hard to change? I’ve been reflecting on how our relationship/perception of change is what makes change hard not the change itself. 

Truthfully we and the world around us are always changing. The seasons bring change. The sun rising and setting each day brings change. We change out the oxygen in our bodies with every breath. The human body’s cells regenerate on average every 7-10 years. We change in some way with every experience we learn from. And each of these changes starts with some small shift.  The autumn tree doesn’t suddenly lose all its leaves at once it simply begins with one.

I’ve been surprised how often in my life the need for a shift, a change, has appeared. Although I have heard often Heraclitus’ quote ‘The only constant in life is change”, I don’t feel like I was raised to find ordinary in change and how to navigate it, how to choose it, how to make small simple shifts when things weren’t working. 

Navigating life has not been linear. As I entered my first job out of college if you had shown me a preview of where I am today I would have been in disbelief and surprise. Along this journey, there have been so many twists and turns I could not have predicted.  Throughout I have had to change my mindset, my habits, perspectives, focus, environment, company, goals, rhythm, skills, and even direction. With each small and big change that came my way I found my way forward and I also notice there have been some consistent threads.  

I am reminded of Robert Fritz’s work on the Path of Least Resistance and the importance of choice. He outlines three types of choices fundamental, primary, and secondary. Fundamental choices are related to orientation, an organizing force from which we can then align our primary and secondary choices. Clarifying the fundamental choices that orient us is essential for us to find our way and find joy when we shift, even if we discover that the shift we choose wasn’t supporting our fundamental choice. Sometimes we do have to discover what doesn’t work to find what does. 

A dear friend and I spent a year exploring different time management and goal-setting systems. We would make these elaborate plans and schedules for the week. Implementing our schedules didn’t result in what we had planned. Life would happen and suddenly we had no wifi for days or access to the studio due to some environmental issue. We would begin to work on a project and learn something new that would change the outcome we had envisioned. The most significant thing we learned from these explorations was recognizing that we could not fully foresee the journey and the importance of shifting and adjusting along the way. 

The journey itself teaches us where to go and helps us recognize where we are headed. We can’t predict everything that will arise; our work is to be present and make the necessary shifts when needed. Regardless if we make conscious choices, our journey ahead will be filled with change. But if we decide and choose intentionally where we would like to go, we can sense how to shift and adjust to stay on track.

I think many of us relate to change as uncomfortable as we enter uncharted waters, feeling a bit out of control, at the mercy of what is coming ahead, and overwhelmed with the work ahead. In addition with change, we often have had to let go of something and sometimes we aren’t ready to do t,hat. I remember when my eldest daughter was 3 months old I found myself grieving that she was no longer 6 weeks old and didn’t simply fit in my arms the way she had. Sometimes we miss the warm summer sun as we head into winter.  This too is part of change.

Making a change does take effort and big changes often take time. When I decided to move to Arizona, it took me four months before I finally arrived. There were so many steps to make this shift in my life and although at times it felt overwhelming, I simply started down the path one step at a time. If you stay rooted in your foundational choices, you find the clarity and inspiration to move forward. So, start by noticing what is needed now and be willing to shift and take one step forward, one step at a time.  

You don’t need confidence to move forward.  I remember when I bought my first house. I was very clear I wanted to purchase the house, everything about it felt right. At the same time, I was a bit scared and questioning if I was going to be able to do this. Every day I simply followed the path with each small step forward. I submitted the forms I needed, made the calls, answered the questions and then I found myself sitting with my realtor in Denny’s signing the paperwork. Only at that moment did I truly feel confident that I was going to own this house.

Don’t be overwhelmed with making the perfect move or what the next step is after that one. The full path ahead of me is rarely obvious when I make a choice. You might even find yourself feeling stuck. Simply start as one of my students used to say by just choosing to move and shift something right now. Start close with something simple and aligned to embrace, and let it guide you. Make a phone call, register for a class, look at the home listings, make a list, ask a question, or even take a moment to consciously breathe.  There is power in shifting and moving.

When I reflect on times, I’ve lost my way and have needed to change my direction, I either took a wrong turn, learned something or had an experience that clarified where I wanted to go, or I lost focus on what was most important to me. I think these can also relate to why we often don’t embrace change. We need clarity and excitement to feel all the discomfort of changing, to face all the work, and to still make the choices and shifts to head towards what we desire. If I am choosing to be healthy and recognize that when I workout before my workday I am more balanced and available for my day, it feels exciting to change my schedule around to wake up early to get my workout in before work. The schedule shift feels supportive. Although tired at times as I wake at dawn, I simply remember what I am really choosing.

I hope you can find comfort in our need to change and be willing to make the small shift. Remember change is in our nature and fortunately we can navigate with our choices and dance through life. Find ease, power and joy in your dance and embrace the need for a small simple shift when it arises. 

We can relax here in everyday living

Journeying

Several years ago, a good friend came through town and we sat up late into the night talking and laughing about our life experiences. The topic arose on the challenge of always feeling like we are working towards some static state of life that never arrives. This future state where everything is as it should be and where we could finally relax was fleeting.

As a mom, I have longed for a tidy house and to find some future where all the work to clean the dishes and pans had some outcome that is not a temporal moment of satisfaction. There was a disconnect between what I was longing for and the reality of my life. I would clean up the kitchen, it would be clean for an hour and then another meal or a baking adventure would quickly fill the space with dishes, spills, and more work to tidy up.

Truthfully, I love a home-cooked meal, and that my daughters bless us with sweet baking treats and even an occasional dinner. I prefer to see the kitchen in use than cleaned up and what a blessing that my girls are at an age where I don’t have to make every meal and snack they want.

At the same time waking up to a tidy kitchen feels so good.  Starting the morning with the spaciousness of a tidy kitchen gives me a sense of ease and rest. Not to mention there is something to be said for the joy of having a clean work area to begin a project from and knowing where things are when you need them.

The experience and apparent separation of navigating the reality and joys of these different states felt like clues to what was at the root of this feeling we were describing, this feeling of working towards some static state that never arrives where we could finally relax.  

I found it so interesting that my friend, who was not a parent, was also experiencing this underlying feeling although in different areas of his life mostly his business and navigating simply settling down in his life. This unsettled feeling was prevalent across so many aspects of our lives, work, home, relationships, parenting, friendships, and health and we were not alone in how we felt.  

We began to reflect on how so many tv shows and movies we grew up on didn’t show the messy living room, the consistent attention needed to sustain and support your business, and the years of being in a relationship after the happy ever after wedding. There was always an endpoint where things were resolved and settled, a final state.

Not to mention all the product marketing, and business consulting suggesting to us that with their help we will get “there”. And then the focus on ‘once I retire’. All these messages promise us that there is a point somewhere in the future where we would arrive and we can then relax.

Here is the funny thing there is no such destination. There is simply living. Yes, in life you can reach a goal, have the kitchen clean, reach a peak in your fitness, find the love of your life, and then life continues, and thank goodness it’s not a final state.

There is always a task to complete, a meal to prepare, a mess to clean, a house to sell, the garden to water, a job offer to consider, phone calls to make, bills to pay, miscommunications to navigate, tournaments to play, unexpected expenses to adjust to, challenges to face, songs to sing, employees to say goodbye to, technology to learn, successes to celebrate, belly laughs at the dinner table, babys to welcome, friends to grieve and time for sleep. We plan, prioritize, wonder, assess, worry, grieve, and celebrate.  

Here we can relax, simply living, taking care of life, never static and always shifting. Relax is a state not the result of a destination. Now we can relax in our everyday lives and enjoy it. Notice your rhythm, purpose, your values, your needs, and desires. Engage in work and service, play often and do the things you love. Care for your home, your body, your relationships, your job, and your community. Recognize the chapters, cycles, peaks, dips, and plateaus.

Remove the lens of a final destination, set your direction and goals ahead, settle into the cycles of life, recognize and celebrate milestones, take the time to rest, do the maintenance work, and enjoy the seasons as they arrive. Keep training after the race and clean the kitchen mess, enjoy the tidiness, and welcome the next baking adventure. It’s all worth it.  We can relax here.   

Today in our house another cycle begins, a new day, a new school year, and loads of freshly washed clothes at least for the moment.   

Nice to Meet You – What’s in a Name?

Identity
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My formal name is Kathryn and I go by Katia. I started to use Katia as my everyday name around 2001. Honestly prior to that time I had been struggling with my name for a while. 

I lived twelve of the first fourteen years of my life outside the US.  I am a US citizen.  I was born in the US and grew up in Belgium and Brazil. I went to international schools and I was the American in my class.  I represented the US and my classmates represented other parts of the world, Canada, Italy, France, Korea, South Africa, Venezuela and so many corners of our planet. 

When I moved back to the US as a freshman in high school, I was shocked. I thought I knew what it meant to be an American, to be a US citizen. What I found out was I that didn’t fit into American culture and there were so many aspects of it that I didn’t understand.  Jokes and cultural references went over my head. I would mix up the most basic idioms and would often miss a social cue or two.  I had had very different experiences growing up and I often couldn’t relate to my new friends and my new community.

When I was a senior in high school, I was waiting to see the dentist and the dental assistant came over towards me and squatted in front of the little girl next to me and said, “Katy we are ready for you now”. I stood up and then the dental assistant stood up and I realized in that moment that I had outgrown my name.

From that point on I tried to find my adult name, one that fit. For a while, I simply used my formal name Kathryn and then I tried some different nicknames like Kate and K. I didn’t feel like any of these fit me.  There was something uncomfortable for me in all of them. 

In 2001 I decided to choose the name that I loved, Katia. Katia was the name of a girl a year ahead of me in the school I went to in Brazil.  Once I had left Brazil her name began to symbolize for me everything I loved about Brazil. When I began to use Katia as my nickname I would tell people that it was my Brazilian nickname for Kathryn or Katarina much like Kate or Katy was and although true when I lived in Brazil no one ever called me Katia.

Only a couple of years ago, I came to realize that the reason I was so uncomfortable with Kathryn, Katy, or other more traditional American nicknames I had tried was because with them there were so many assumptions that people made as they met me, as I was introduced to them. Kathryn, Kate, and Katy were very common American names and with them came assumptions about how I grew up, the societal norms that I knew, and context for stories I shared. I couldn’t live up to these assumptions. It appeared we were not birds of the same feather and here we were facing each other. Not living up to these assumptions created unease, miscommunication and left us often with no sense of how to connect and proceed. 

When I changed my name, it worked I was met with fewer assumptions about my background and it was amazing.  I could share with them how I had lived overseas, what I loved about the world and my experiences. And my questions and curiosities about others were now met with a willingness to share not judgment. We had the space now to meet each other.

As I began to become present to why I longed to change my name I realized something else needed to change. I needed to start telling the truth about why I changed my name. My hope in sharing the story of my name is that myself and others will remember as we meet each other to be careful with what we are assuming and give each other the space to actually meet and to not make assumptions based on a name. 

So, I am excited to share with you the story of my name and I look forward to meeting you.   

Creating Meaningful Community in a Transient World

Community, Journeying
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“My humanity is bound up in yours, for we can only be human together.” 

Desmund Tutu

Longing for connection is part of our human experience; we are wired to connect. As I left the high-tech corporate world a mentor recommended that I reach out to a friend of his to explore my interest in community. I was particularly curious about learning that arises in conversations and exploring further what I had learned from Etienne Wenger’s community of practice model. What drew me in me was both my love of learning something I hadn’t yet seen thanks to someone else’s presence in my life and my own longing for connection and belonging.

What this friend said to me that day caught me by surprise, planted a seed and I’ve been curious about it ever since. During the previous year, I facilitated a community of practice bringing together team members from across the organization I worked for to share experiences and knowledge and to learn from each other. I wanted to do more of this with other organizations; I wanted to bring people together and create spaces for learning together and community. With this intention in mind, I sat in the coffee shop hoping to hear some sage advice to support my efforts forward. 

What Stephen shared that day was his perspective that it isn’t possible to create community in a work setting. How is it not possible? He went on to describe the temporal nature of community in organizations and how it doesn’t build trust and true belonging. We live in a transient world where people are joining and leaving communities every day and commitment to communities waning. Many of us have experienced spending years of starting your day with a morning check-in with your teammate or classmate and one day they leave and your daily connection and morning ritual is gone. Knowing that these connections are temporal, I notice people hesitating to step in fully, the neighbor who moves in, doesn’t meet or connect with the neighbors, or the teammate that fulfills their job responsibilities without ever sharing a meal with a colleague. Oh my, what did this mean and how was I going to move ahead?

My own experiences to date pretty much mirrored much of what Stephen shared. I had changed schools, moved towns, lived in and outside the US, left jobs, leaving and losing communities I had built and invested in. I also stayed in a school community when everyone I started with left. I was a member of a community that got divided as the founding leaders decided to go their separate ways. I committed to an organization as it merged into another. Relationships ended and years of holiday rituals and connections were suddenly gone. Friends have moved. Colleagues have been asked to leave. I lost a partner when health challenges arose. I have welcomed new community members; some have fully stepped in, while others have stepped in with reservations. And after some time, I also noticed myself entering new communities with both trepidation and longing. I found it all a bit heartbreaking.  

The following years I put my desire for community development to the side and found myself on a learning journey. I took my visual and instructional design skills and had the pleasure of consulting to an incredible network of thought leaders and master practitioners in the field of facilitative leadership, conflict resolution, dialogue, rites of passage and creating learning environments in education, corporate, political, and non-profit settings. I was SO grateful for all that I was able to absorb during those years and the willingness of these amazing individuals to mentor me in their work as I supported them.

I finally found my way back to community years later. This time designing an online space for an educational community to meet outside their courses and to connect and support each other. Thanks to the previous years I had some good clues on how to proceed. In addition, a seed was planted in me during my conversation with Stephen. I’ve been holding the tension of two realities, our need for connection and belonging and the transient and complex world we live in. How do we create deep meaningful connections and community that honors and supports us in these transient settings and world? I don’t have it all figured out and I have learned a few things so far:

  • Community is about people, not organizations, legal structures, interests, and missions. Community is about connection, relating, caring, support, working together, and companionship along our lives journeys. Don’t confuse the structure, space, and domain with the purpose of community; community is for us. If we don’t show up in the community space, there is no community. Community spaces and structures simply give us access to each other and give us the capacity to do many incredible things we can’t do on our own.
  • Together we are a community. And within that community you have individual connections.  Over time these connections form your own circle of community, they aren’t a community in and of themselves they are your community.
  • Give people the space to grow, develop and change.  Community needs a domain, a focus. Clarity of focus helps people find their place in the community to share their gifts and choose to engage. Community must welcome change and evolution.  Over time your role will shift and evolve. Community spaces themselves must shift and evolve and be redefined. Be willing to expand and grow your community.   
  • It is important to acknowledge membership shifts in each community. People come and go. Both new and existing members bring value. Support transitions as people enter leave and shift their roles in communities. You never really leave a community you simply step into a different role; you are always connected.  
  • We belong to multiple communities, and you don’t have to choose between them. At different times different communities will take on more of a priority. Your role, needs and gifts you have to share and receive in each are different. One of your gifts is your connection and bridge you bring to all of your other communities.
  • Community is worth it regardless of the heartbreak and challenges.  We need each other. We are not supposed to do this all on our own. We thrive when we are connected to a thriving community.

Some how these lessons seem so simple. Having learned these tidbits I find myself more engaged, more willing to participate, and more connected. Although it’s not easy, it’s surely worth it and I am grateful. If we can build community within a transient world I feel hopeful that we can regain trust and our sense of belonging. There is a lot of work still to be done and I look forward to what is ahead, creating space for community and learning in my life.  

The Gift of Strangers

Directions, Strangers
shoes, red, flamenco-4126763.jpg

To my surprise, complete strangers have had a powerful impact on the direction of my life. I often remember one of those times in my mid-twenties standing in line at a local grocery store.

I stopped into a grocery store across town to quickly pick up a few things. Standing in line holding what I came for, an elder woman got in line behind me. She stood there for a moment, and she suddenly began to speak. I still remember exactly where she started our conversation. “These are my dancing shoes” she started.  She pointed to her shoes and proceeded to tell me how she and her husband went out dancing a couple of days a week and how much joy it brought to her and her relationship. She loved dancing with him. I loved listening to her.

Soon enough I was at the front of the checkout and the cashier and I were finishing our exchange. I turned to the elder woman behind me in line to say goodbye and wish her well. As I turned to walk away, she said to me, “If you don’t love him, don’t marry him”. Her comment landed and I froze for a moment. It had been less than a year since I had moved to this Colorado town. What had brought me here was a relationship. Oddly I had never mentioned my relationship to this stranger in line with me.

He and I met in the mid-west.  I had moved to there for a job with hopes that with my additional languages and global experience, they would move me overseas eventually. I had grown up overseas and had this vision that would be my life. While I waited for my opportunity, I decided to keep my language skills up and take a French class and that is where we met. I began working long hours and didn’t make it to class much and we lost touch.

We met again almost two years later at work this time. We began dating. Several months went by and I realized it was time for a change. After three years, it was obvious that my language skills were losing their edge and the company didn’t want/need me overseas. I was burnt out, disappointed, and decided I needed to find another path if I were to get overseas. We were going our separate ways.  I headed to Vermont for a Master’s program and he decided to transfer to Colorado.

On my way to Vermont, I made a U-turn. It dawned on me that I wanted relationships and people to be an important part of my life and I was walking away from that, so I headed to Colorado and we moved in with each other. 

Now here I was, almost a year later, standing in the grocery store taking in her comment. She was right. Although I loved this man, I didn’t quite in the way that I could imagine myself as a wife. Soon after he and I were heading our separate ways again.

I never regretted choosing that relationship over the possibility of a path overseas. It was exactly what I needed then; it just wasn’t what I needed forever. To this day I am grateful for that poignant and timely message from the sweet dancing stranger.

I am so grateful for all the strangers who have stepped into my life and stood out like signposts, pointing me along the way. Sometimes it was a question they asked, a story they told, or a comment they made. At other times it was simply who they were, how they stood in the room, a gesture they made, or their careful attention placed on something. Thanks for being there and the gifts you brought me.

Maybe someday, when I am older, I will be in the grocery store with my dancing shoes on and simply say the right thing at the right time to the young woman in front of me to support her along her journey.

A Map From Here?

Journeying

You might be wondering why I titled this blog, A Map From Here. I think reflecting on this question would be a great place to start. This phrase arose in the context of observing a pattern that has come up over and over in my life. The path of the journey becomes clearer with each step forward. Each step brings new perspectives, experiences, and insights. When I pay attention, and take in all that arises, the course of my journey adjusts and shifts; it becomes more precise, more aligned. I have found that this is where I start, from here, with each step leading to the next. The way forward is from here, A Map From Here.

It has taken me quite some time to see this pattern and to be willing to have this reciprocal relationship with my journey. I’ve ignored lessons on my journey; I’ve stubbornly set sail and moved forward without being present to my surroundings, to myself; I’ve wandered aimlessly; I’ve followed strict schedules; I’ve refused to step forward; I’ve ignored the stories of others; I’ve adopted beliefs that led to dead ends. I’ve also searched; I’ve followed the breadcrumbs; I’ve listened to my body and my heart; I’ve taken responsibility; I’ve tried new things; I asked questions; I’ve taken in the advice of others; I’ve been willing to learn. I’ve felt lost and I’ve felt inspired.

Finding the path, and finding our place in the world is a discovery journey in and of itself. It took me many years to recognize my path and to gain some clarity in what direction I need to head and what guides me forward. I wanted to find my way and my place in this world and with it find some peace in my being. I craved this, longed for this, and eventually began to search for it. It had to be out there somewhere. Both desire and uncomfort motivated me initially. The landscape of the world seemed so divided and complex and full of contradictions. Either I make good money or I have a job I love. Either I live in the US or I enjoy the beauty of the rest of the world. Either I respect you or I respect me. Either this is good for us or this is bad for us. Either I love you or I don’t. I couldn’t find myself or my path in all the divisions and many contradictions.

In many ways, I did exactly what I had been told I should do. I went to college, made friends, got a good job, paid my taxes, got married, and was nice to my neighbors and still, I felt homeless and disconnected. These “shoulds” weren’t working, so I tried other things. I quit my job; I gave away most of my clothes; I didn’t focus on beauty; I didn’t eat meat; I sat in meditation halls in India; I worked for free; I talked to strangers; I bought an expensive car; I fasted for days; I got lost in the rainforest; I struggled with money; I worked with children; I took workshops; I worked with the land; I worked with my hands; I moved overseas. All these experiences brought me joy and grief, good memories and interesting realizations, and often I found myself exhausted from all this searching. I still felt heartbroken, compromised, and with no sense of home. What was I missing?

I finally began reflecting and integrating all of these experiences and I began to notice what I love, how I could hold the paradoxes of life, where I make a difference and it brings me joy, where am I stretched to be of service to myself and others, what feels real and welcoming and where my compass lay. It has taken me quite some time to find my path that held everything I loved and where I actively belonged and it is still a work in process. Here I am home. Choose and journey from here. Wash your hair, prepare your dinner, write a list, visit with friends, work with integrity, connect with others, love with kindness and wild abandon, create with joy and passionate desire, protect with clarity and uncompromising care, meet the unexpected and painful with grace, and share with devotion and infinite gratitude

I am always here and it is always different. The path, the steps forward, the direction, and even sometimes the goals I chose yesterday may or may not be on point today. What I experience and learn informs my journey and the map forward is recalibrated with each step. Some tales, companions, inspirations and artifacts you will find in these collections of blog posts will be from my journey, ones that have helped me find my way, and others will be from here shaping my journey forward. As I mentioned before I hope here you will find solace, inspiration, perspective, possibility, hope, and your own insights and trust in yourself and the world to find your way forward. Enjoy!