Embody the Possibilities....in 2012

As we approach the end of the year, it's natural to begin taking a personal inventory of the previous 12 months and what we accomplished, the goals we met, and the challenges that remain before us.

The challenges that remain before us often wind up as bullet points on our New Year's resolutions lists, to (hopefully) be crossed off sometime before the end of NEXT December 31st. I've always scribbled my own New Year's resolutions as bullet points on paper which I then usually tape up somewhere that I know I'll see them on a regular basis (next to my bedroom mirror is good) and be reminded of the promises I've made to myself about my new objectives for the upcoming year.

Generally that works--I'm a list-maker, anyway--and I like crossing off whatever I've accomplished. It gives me a sense of forward-motion, a sense of satisfaction that I'm taking myself seriously, honoring my own wishes, and taking steps to achieve the goals I've set for myself, no matter how modest they might seem to others.

This year, I'm trying something different. As an artistic/creative type, I respond well to visuals and I've always liked making vision boards to visually clarify my objectives. Typically, vision boards require poster board, glue, scissors, loads of old magazines, and a lot of patience (as well as great spatial relations!) I love these sorts of day-long dreamy artistic projects, but don't always have the time to sit and do them. So I researched online vision boards and came across the "O Dream Board," an offering on Oprah.com which I currently use and enjoy.

I've made two vision boards so far, both of which I've exported to my computer as jpegs that I then set as my computer desktop photo; this way, my Dream Board pops up to remind me of my goals each time I turn my computer on. Below is the first one I made:

Health, romance, creativity, financial abundance and animals (lots of them!) are all a part of my life's vision for myself, and creating a Dream Board is just one (creative) way of manifesting my goals and clarifying my New Year's resolutions. If you're visual, it may be something to experiment with to welcome your own heart's desires in the new year.

So Happy & Abundant New Year! What are your own resolutions/goals/dreams for 2012?

Into the Great Unknown, One Step at a Time

The Only Constant in Life is Change. --Attributable to numerous authors

Last time I posted, I'd recently left my day job with a large company and was preparing for a life (for the immediate foreseeable future) of no schedules, no steady paycheck, and lots ofunknowns. I'm still creating my daily structure, keeping to a fairly tight budget, and taking my days one at a time, staying in the present as much as possible.

It's no secret that I'm in Recovery; the benefits of concurrently working a recovery program along with the coaching are mentioned on my website, and I'm also very forthcoming about the fact I've been in Al-Anon for nearly 6 years, and have benefitted greatly from the fellowship and the application of the tools in my own life (yes, I do my own process work/emotional self-care/psychic maintenance! It improves my outlook and makes me a better Life Coach!)

Shortly after having composed that last Blog entry, however, my life has taken an even greater--unforeseen, unexpected--turn; my father--who will turn 80 on October 1st--was diagnosed with Myelofibrosis, a type of chronic Leukemia. Not a lot is known about Myelofibrosis, since it's relatively rare (which is a good thing), but the symptoms can be brutal, and vary with each patient. One consistency among sufferers is that it can be a roller-coaster, and it's definitely already been a roller-coaster for sure--he went along for a while without too much to report until he was admitted to the hospital for a week with sores on his swollen legs, one of numerous very weird/alarming symptoms of this also weird/alarming disease.

I'm worried about my father, naturally; I am also newly wrapping my brain around the very real fact that cancer has now touched our family, and up until this time, we've all been relatively healthy and affliction-free (knock on wood!)

My parents live down in the SF/Bay Area and I am up here in Portland, Oregon, and the geographical distance makes things harder because family members tend to feel a sense of helplessness when faced with chronic illnesses such as cancer--and geographical distance often exacerbates such feelings. It has for me; hearing "news about dad" second-hand and not being able to physically offer support or see with my own two eyes how the disease has transformed him has been troubling.

So how am I coping with this latest "unknown?" I've upped my self-care exponentially. First, I researched Leukemia, came across the Leukemia/Lymphoma Society (whose local chapter is located within walking distance of where I live in Portland, in fact) and began attending their monthly support groups for general blood cancers, which was a comfort; although I was the only non-ill family member in attendance, hearing the perspectives of the other attendees was very helpful to me.

I also began working with a therapist, specifically, because I noticed I was developing ongoing symptoms of depression that needed to be addressed, such as sleeplessness, weepiness, headaches, lethargy, etc., and felt that a therapeutic approach was necessary in this case (as opposed to life coaching, which is a very different process).

And, of course, I've been mindful of my Recovery program; it's a comfort putting myself in Al-Anon meetings, hearing the shares, and "taking what I want and leaving the rest," as we like to say. And more often than not, the shares are exactly relevant to my head space in that moment, and a gentle/humbling reminder that life presents challenges to every one of us in different ways that are no less vexing than what I'm currently facing.

Other self-care rituals involve camping and hiking (the biorhythm of the outdoors is very calming to me), seeing funny & engaging movies (laughter is amazing medicine!), attending church more often, taking long walks, communing with my two cats (petting silky cat fur is instantly soothing--not to mention, they're great objective listeners!), talking to trusted friends, and calling my family much more often; hearing my father's voice--and sharing my concerns, fears and feelings with the rest of the family--is also invaluable.

Yes, life throws us curve balls--even when we may feel like we already have enough on our plates to manage; that's how it goes sometimes. The best thing we can do is center, seek appropriate support (all different kinds), let our authentic feelings surface and honor them all, up our self-care tremendously (yes, FUN is a necessary piece of that!) and stay in the present moment as much as possible.

And, as another Recovery slogan reminds us, "This, too shall pass."

What does your self-care look like?

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A Little Bit About Transition....

Last time I blogged, I was on the verge of leaving the familiar comforts of my long-outgrown contractual day job and preparing to step into the Great Unknown.

My last day with the company for whom I'd been contracting for over 3 years was Friday, April 29th, and I had hoped to slip out of there with little fanfare. As an introvert (and in spite of the MFA in theater I have), I'm not always comfortable with being in the spotlight or having much attention paid me (my focus was writing, after all), especially in moments that have the potential for great gobs of emotion; despite how I felt about the job (bored, static, frustrated, unsupported), this was one of those moments.

A few days before my departure, I was presented with a generous gift card to a favorite natural grocery store, fresh oatmeal cookies from the store's bakery, and a thoughtful "Farewell & Good Luck!" card signed by everyone I'd worked with the past 3+ years. Naturally, I felt a well of emotion (though I didn't spill any tears!), and a surge of gratitude.

One of my goals in making this capital-T Transition was to leave my day job with integrity--which meant NOT burning any bridges, and leaving my connections there intact, no matter how I groused and felt about the place. My feelings about my work are MY business; my relationships with my co-workers, however, involved another person, and that is what I reminded myself needed to be honored and held lightly and carefully. I was leaving FOR ME, not "because of them." It's a difference of mindset that makes all the difference.

So now, I am more than 1.5 months out of the structure of a day job; I create my own structure on a daily basis, which can be unnerving; I am also living on a very careful budget, which takes planning and mindfulness, but it's been a good (albeit challenging) exercise. The bottom line is, my needs are being met. I have shelter. I have food. I can pay my bills. I see my friends. I enjoy nature. My health is great. I am okay.

I have also been blessed with time to research my own Next Best Move (coaches get to use their own tools!); I've done two informational interviews with Human Resources professionals, since there is much about that field that compliments the profession of Life Coaching; I've attended an HR Open House at a local college that grants professional certifications and rekindled some connections; I've researched funding options for the training; I've attended career search workshops. And I've had the time to maintain my own health & well-being with more Al-Anon meetings and hilly 3-mile morning walks (kicking in those surges of positive endorphins!).

Why am I writing all this? To remind you, my dear reader, that Life Coaches are, first and foremost, people who also experience many of the same circumstances and issues in our own lives that our clients bring to us for exploration and processing. Many of my clients come to me because they are facing or starting transitions of their own--something is about to end or has already ended, the "New Thing" (whatever that may be) has not yet begun--and they're smack in the middle of it, smack in the middle of The Great Unknown without a compass, disoriented, without focus, without an identifying label, and maybe a bit (or a lot) fearful. It can be terrifying.....and it can also be profoundly liberating.

What have you always wanted to try/explore/develop/create that you told yourself that--because of the hours/focus/attention your day job took, you didn't have time for? What do you truly value that you'd like to honor in your life (i.e., starting a small vegetable garden, volunteering at an animal shelter, cooking from scratch, writing the Great American Novel)? Now is the time to leap; now is the time to explore; now is the time to expand your horizons and become the person you've back-burnered for so many other reasons.

Transitions provide a lot of things: fear, upheaval, uncertainty. Transitions are akin to someone (The Universe, or ourselves) taking our plates with both hands and flicking them sharply skyward saying, "WHEEEEE!!!!", so that that the contents scatter and disperse. We have no idea, after that happens, what our "new" plates will hold, or what will land on them.

There is no new meal, not yet. Our plates are empty. This is what transition means.

But on the flip side, they provide new opportunities, boundary-less thinking (i.e., time to "think outside the box"), enormous possibilities, and the precious TIME-perhaps the biggest gift of all-to explore what's out in the world for us to see/do/become/experience.

Transitions occur for everyone, numerous times-whether they happen TO us or we create them ourselves (as I did when I left my day job). Yes, our plates have been cleared; it is just us and the expanse of far horizon. And truly limitless possibilities.

As the poet Mary Oliver writes, "Tell me, what is it you plan to do/with your one wild and precious life?"

Well?

Spring Ahead

"And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom." ~Anais Nin

This Spring has so far been about change. Lots of change.

I am releasing a friendship that has slowly become toxic; I had plans to move from one living space to another. And the day job I'm in just moved their offices from one (more convenient) location to another (less convenient) which, in most circumstances, would not be that big of a deal, except for the fact that I live without a car. The former location was a two-bus commute; the new location is a three-bus commute.After more than three years in a temporary contract that was only supposed to last two weeks, I believe this is the Universe' unmistakable way of nudging me out of my complacency and into the next leg of my journey.

This day job has been, for the most part, good to me. The regular income helped support me as I completed my Life Coach Certification training, and the flexibility enabled me to meet with clients as I began building my Coaching business, for which I am grateful. Although I'd been offered a permanent position with the company, it did not align with my values, and while flattered, it was necessary to decline.

So we packed our things and moved, and when the dust settled, I made my intentions for departure known.

It did not come as a surprise; my goals are beyond and outside the walls of that company, and my coworkers were all aware of that.

And there are signs--like the burgeoning Spring itself, with its new blossoms and teasing sun breaks--that the economy is slowly turning itself around.

And the timing of this move, this Universal nudge, and my impending departure--during the Spring, and right before Easter and Passover, significant holidays representing freedom, renewal, resurrection--seemed also significant.

So when I made my decision to leave and discussed my intentions with my contracting agency (who asked, "When is your contract up?" to which I replied, "Three years ago...") I felt terribly happy and remarkably at peace when I hung up the phone.

And I would be lying if I said I didn't also begin to feel the stirrings of fear, which are a normal part of the mix when ditching the relative comforts of the status quo and leaping into the unknown--something we will be called on to do in our lives over and over and over. I sat with the fear; I listened to what it had to tell me. I took steps to release it out of my body (acupuncture, long walks, long, soaky baths, recovery meetings, talks with trusted friends).

And I knew that, in spite of the fear, it was time to move forward. To leap. I encourage my clients to honor their fear and leap anyway, acknowledging the forward pull to growth and renewal along their own paths. Growth isn't necessarily easy....but it's always meaningful and stuffed with lessons. And all the messages I'd been receiving pointed to moving right along, including the following Daily Meditation that landed in my email in-box at work:

"God can't hand you anything new until you let go of what you're holding."

Sometimes you know when you are, finally, truly done--with a relationship that has ceased to feed you, with a job that presents more of a hardship to hang on to, with a living space that is a bit too noisy, a bit too close to the freeway, a bit too out-of-the-way.

What will the future bring me? What is ahead for me on my path? What will the new leg of my journey look like? How will that unfold? I don't know. And I'm not supposed to. What I AM supposed to do is "turn it over," as we say in Recovery, to my Higher Power, while I focus on putting one foot in front of the other and continue moving forward on my path. While I focus on "...letting go of what I'm holding."

Just like Daylight Savings, when we set our clocks forward one hour and enjoy longer, brighter days, it's time to "Spring Ahead."

I know that I will be okay. My needs will be met. I've been in Al-Anon 5 years and I have healthier tools for keeping myself grounded, serene, centered, peaceful, and in relationship with my Higher Power. I will be fine.

Time to take the risk--as we all must from time to time in our lives--to blossom.

A little bit on love (and fear)

I went out by myself on Valentine's Day this year.

I say "this year" because most years I do nothing. I don't "hate" the day, as is generally assumed about most single people at this time of year; in fact, I don't really pay it much attention, except for the candy sales that roll around the day after. I AM aware that my coupled-up friends have their plans, because I usually hear about them when the day has come and gone.

I've been single pretty much my whole life, by choice (and other variables I won't go into here).

I immersed myself in the safety of academic pursuits and when I was through with that, working and ruminating on a career path. I told myself I didn't have time to seek out companionship, and have so far lived my life according to that belief.

But this past Valentine's Day, things changed. Because I wanted them to change. Because I want to rewrite the script that would have me believe I "don't have time" to fit companionship into my life. Whatever has finally shifted and softened in my stubborn, I-can-do-this-life-alone mind set allowed me to Google "Singles Valentine's Day Events Portland Oregon 2011," and what I came up with was a blast.

Singles CPR.

No, not mouth-to-mouth with strangers; we used plastic dummies. But the plastic dummies were in a hotel conference room with about 15 strangers, every one of them probably as nervous as I was.

When I came across the American Red Cross announcement, I was immediately intrigued; here was a Valentine's Day event that didn't involve painful small talk, forced mingling or the need to whip out the frothiest frock I own and put myself out there in a way that made me want to shrivel up and die. It was a PRACTICAL event--which appealed to me greatly. We would be doing something, and that something involved saving lives. Plastic lives, but lives nonetheless.

When the day rolled around, I was anticipatory. Happily excited and a little nervous. I work a recovery (12-step--in this case, Al-Anon) program, and we sometimes refer to the negative keep-you-stuck voices in our heads as "The Sh*tty Committee." My committee had been trying DESPERATELY to talk me out of following through with my V-Day plans for the ensuing two weeks after I'd sent in my $20 registration. "It's cold," they whined. "It's a work night. You'll need to buy a new blouse.....they'll be younger/older than you. It'll be boring. You'll be embarrassed. Wouldn't it be nice just to stay home with the cats?" etc. etc.

I thanked the voices for their input and went anyway.

I have often found that simply putting my body somewhere I want to be--some event, such as this, that my mind would like to dissuade me from attending--is the healthiest, most effective way for me to "follow through" on things. I also know that, as a Life Coach who regularly encourages my clients to take those bold but sometimes scary steps towards making the changes they desire in their own lives, I need to "walk the walk" and not just "talk the talk." I, too, want to make certain changes (such as finding partnership) that involves taking some risks in my life and taking steps that may feel a little....scary. And each time I do, I am encouraged and emboldened in my objective. It's a step in the right direction, even if it's a new direction. Even if there's fear there. Fear doesn't have to keep us stuck, and expecting it not to be part of the changes we want to make is probably unrealistic. Nor is it about "conquering" the fear. It's about honoring it--acknowledging it--and doing what we'd planned to do anyway. This is how we grow. This is how we begin to truly understand what we're capable of, what our values are, what kinds of people we are in the world. Otherwise, everything stays (safely) tucked in the realm of theory.

When all was said and done, I had a marvelous time, chatted with some people, polished my choking & CPR skills, ate some chocolate and drank some wine. And even ended up on the evening news.

One never knows what they're going to get when they finally step out the front door in bold search of their dreams. Surrender. Have ridiculous fun. Honor your fear--don't fight it. Put your body where it needs to be. Show up. And be ready for anything.

Year of the Rabbit

2011.

It's a new year (Year of the Rabbit in the Chinese zodiac).

Do you make New Year's resolutions?

I do. Every December, I draft a kind of "to-do" list for the upcoming year and post it where I can see it (the 2011 list is right next to a mirror on the wall in my bedroom; whenever I look in the mirror to dry my hair or apply my make-up in the morning, I see the list and I'm reminded of of my resolutions).

Some of what I've written are ongoing, such as the recovery-based (I work a 12-step Al-Anon program) resolution that states simply, "I will not accept unacceptable behavior." I like being reminded of this fact, and it leaves a lot of room to reflect on what "unacceptable behavior" looks or feels like, and how I might set boundaries around it when I'm on the receiving end of it.

Some are specific objectives, such as "get contact lenses" (I wear glasses--in fact, I wear "progressive" lenses, which are kinda like bifocals but without then line--or the "I'm getting older!" stigma--and which have taken me practically the entire two years I've had them to get used to them!) which I haven't worn since I was a freshman in college many, many years ago--soft lenses, one of which I ended up losing on the tile bathroom floor of my parent's home and never found, thus ending my relationship with something small, round and plastic that was to be worn closely against my iris. Glasses are much harder to lose, and I didn't want to deal with the washing/soaking anymore. Now, I'm a little older, and--I guess--a little more vain. And my sight keeps changing.

And I've cycled through every glasses style I can think of: chunky plastic, sleek frameless, intellectual wire-rimmed "Gandhi" glasses, giganto early-80's biggie plastic mongo frames (they really were), clip-on sunglasses, etc. Time to change it up and revisit--well, something small & plastic against my iris.

Some of my resolutions have to do with reclaiming beloved, thoroughly enjoyable leisure past times/experiences--i.e., "Go to the theater." I love live theater (I have an MFA in theater, after all), and saw a lot of it at the Guthrie in Minneapolis when I used to live there, and at Portland Center Stage when I first lived here in Portland many years ago.

A few other Life Coach friends suggested other very helpful approaches to setting resolutions; one suggested setting a theme for the year, and I really like that approach (Wellness? Relationships?); another suggested expressing our resolutions in the present tense, as if they're already happening--i.e., "I am seeing more theater," or "I am running 5 miles a day."

These are a few approaches to setting an intention--our resolutions--for the New Year. Journaling and Vision Boards (if you're visually-oriented/creative and like SEEING your objectives in front of you) may also be some very helpful approaches to manifesting the changes you want to make/life you want to live.

A final, important resolution for me is to update this blog regularly once a month--so please check back for other updates/topics of interest!

Happy New Year. And if I may ask, what are your resolutions for 2011--this new Year of the Rabbit?