A "defining moment" is defined as a point at which the essential nature or character of a person, group, etc., is revealed or identified. (Origin: 1980–85. Dictionary.com Unabridged.)
By journaling about some challenging times in my life, I uncovered something I’ve been grappling with: How have my defining moments affected my present life and work? What is my overarching personal and business message? As I live by it, how has it helped me?
My message is: The more we take responsibility for the situation we are in, the more we are capable of acting based on what we value, not based on what makes us comfortable. As we act from our values, from what we are passionate about, we have the strength and courage to think, say, and do that which ordinarily we just wouldn’t or couldn’t. When our actions are aligned with our values, we have peace of mind and an open heart. We give and receive more love. Our actions are more productive and fulfilling.
Daring to delve into the turning points in our lives—sometimes the most painful times—we end up more aware of what we really value in life. As we heal the deep wounds, we are empowered to take giant leaps in creating more of what we need and want. We gain energy, motivation, and passion to take on the present challenges we’ve been avoiding, sometimes at great cost.
Whether it’s getting healthy, recovering from a devastating loss, communicating with an estranged relative or spouse or child, or getting out of a toxic workplace or relationship, coming to terms with our defining moments can be an awakening of the courage and strength needed to take difficult next actions.
What are the defining moments in your life? How have they affected you? If you were to take responsibility for the circumstance most harmful to your well-being, what would be your next action?
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
The Wave of Grieving
Whether you’re grieving the loss of your job or spouse or a way of life, some moments are horrific and some are OK. It’s a wave that sometimes comes crashing in and at others is ripples of discontent. How can we move through the challenging times when a change comes uninvited to our lives?
Sometimes the only thing to do is sit and be with the miserable feeling. Mostly we are in the habit of doing anything so to avoid the hard feelings of loss. But, deep down we know the pain is looming in some corner of our mind and our heart. It’s there within our body and we just can’t avoid it.
When we experience a major loss, our heart feels sick, badly hurt, even broken. How can we heal our broken heart? Is there an answer, or are there only questions that create a safety for the heart to say what it feels? Telling the truth about what you are feeling is an integral action in the healing process.
Who in your life can you safely say what you are feeling? Who will listen, without advising, judging, or changing the conversation? What do they receive in return for their love listening?
Sometimes the only thing to do is sit and be with the miserable feeling. Mostly we are in the habit of doing anything so to avoid the hard feelings of loss. But, deep down we know the pain is looming in some corner of our mind and our heart. It’s there within our body and we just can’t avoid it.
When we experience a major loss, our heart feels sick, badly hurt, even broken. How can we heal our broken heart? Is there an answer, or are there only questions that create a safety for the heart to say what it feels? Telling the truth about what you are feeling is an integral action in the healing process.
Who in your life can you safely say what you are feeling? Who will listen, without advising, judging, or changing the conversation? What do they receive in return for their love listening?
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Facing the White Space
When I’m not coaching, I’m writing. Each day I start my work by sitting at the computer. The screen and keyboard are my white space and pen. Their purpose is clear, but what is mine? Do I write because I want to teach, or preach, or just have fun? Is it a combination along with simply an expression of me being me? I ask myself what I’m learning, and giving, and receiving.
Books surrounded me as I was growing up. Reading was held as a noble way to spend your time. But I preferred interacting with others, which became a familiar past time… in my head. And since it wasn’t OK to sit and do “nothing”, I’d grab a book. I’d pretend to read, while playing and talking with my imaginary friends. I guess I could say I was writing. It must have been entertaining because I could do it for hours. What a blessing that reading was approved of in my house!
They say the artist has a challenge when looking at the empty canvas. When confronting my white space, what would happen if instead of thinking it might be tough, I would say: I’m going to the playground? Now that is fun. My spirit soars. I find a smile on my face. I write for hours, then stop, not knowing where to go next. I’m blocked, stuck, frozen in time.
I feel the hunger in my stomach, the desire to call so and so. Oh, any excuse will do. I need to stop now. I’ll come back later. OK, one more paragraph and then time for something else.
And that’s how it goes as we do what we love: Do the work, buckle down, feel like quitting, negotiate a bit more time, and then take a break.
Just remember, the purpose of our canvas is not just for producing, it’s also for having fun. Maybe when we call work—playing in the white space; we’d end up creating something new and feel the joy of a job well done.
What’s your canvas? What were you doing the last time you lost track of time?
When I’m not coaching, I’m writing. Each day I start my work by sitting at the computer. The screen and keyboard are my white space and pen. Their purpose is clear, but what is mine? Do I write because I want to teach, or preach, or just have fun? Is it a combination along with simply an expression of me being me? I ask myself what I’m learning, and giving, and receiving.
Books surrounded me as I was growing up. Reading was held as a noble way to spend your time. But I preferred interacting with others, which became a familiar past time… in my head. And since it wasn’t OK to sit and do “nothing”, I’d grab a book. I’d pretend to read, while playing and talking with my imaginary friends. I guess I could say I was writing. It must have been entertaining because I could do it for hours. What a blessing that reading was approved of in my house!
They say the artist has a challenge when looking at the empty canvas. When confronting my white space, what would happen if instead of thinking it might be tough, I would say: I’m going to the playground? Now that is fun. My spirit soars. I find a smile on my face. I write for hours, then stop, not knowing where to go next. I’m blocked, stuck, frozen in time.
I feel the hunger in my stomach, the desire to call so and so. Oh, any excuse will do. I need to stop now. I’ll come back later. OK, one more paragraph and then time for something else.
And that’s how it goes as we do what we love: Do the work, buckle down, feel like quitting, negotiate a bit more time, and then take a break.
Just remember, the purpose of our canvas is not just for producing, it’s also for having fun. Maybe when we call work—playing in the white space; we’d end up creating something new and feel the joy of a job well done.
What’s your canvas? What were you doing the last time you lost track of time?
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
What Exactly is a Coach?
The first coach I ever knew was a gym coach. She was caring and supportive, and tough! She didn’t buy into any of the excuses we would offer and certainly didn’t get swayed by our whining.
As a result of her winning combination of communication skills, expertise in the game, and compassion in training and molding us, we went beyond what was comfortable on a regular basis. With her as our coach, we discovered the satisfaction of excelling as a team, even though on our own we were mediocre players.
Another experience of being more accomplished than I thought possible was with my piano performances. My teacher coached me through the challenges of difficult classical music, stage fright, and the ongoing struggle of routine practice. Even with small hands and average skills, I performed with passion and expertise, and felt the accomplishment of giving my audience the joy of hearing some of the most complex music.
As a personal coach, I teach communications, planning, and implementation skills. I’m the silent partner in producing seemingly impossible results. The purpose of a coach is to bring out the brilliance of their clients, working with them to open up new opportunities, and supporting them in taking the small steps, as well as making quantum leaps.
A coach is a teacher, a powerful listener and questioner, and an expert in moving things forward. A coach is the committed partner in enabling you to accomplish more than what is ordinary and predictable.
We can create our life to be abundant, fulfilling, and joyful. For most of us, having a coach in our corner is the surest, most effective way!
As a result of her winning combination of communication skills, expertise in the game, and compassion in training and molding us, we went beyond what was comfortable on a regular basis. With her as our coach, we discovered the satisfaction of excelling as a team, even though on our own we were mediocre players.
Another experience of being more accomplished than I thought possible was with my piano performances. My teacher coached me through the challenges of difficult classical music, stage fright, and the ongoing struggle of routine practice. Even with small hands and average skills, I performed with passion and expertise, and felt the accomplishment of giving my audience the joy of hearing some of the most complex music.
As a personal coach, I teach communications, planning, and implementation skills. I’m the silent partner in producing seemingly impossible results. The purpose of a coach is to bring out the brilliance of their clients, working with them to open up new opportunities, and supporting them in taking the small steps, as well as making quantum leaps.
A coach is a teacher, a powerful listener and questioner, and an expert in moving things forward. A coach is the committed partner in enabling you to accomplish more than what is ordinary and predictable.
We can create our life to be abundant, fulfilling, and joyful. For most of us, having a coach in our corner is the surest, most effective way!
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Everyday Losses
The amount of peace within yourself is directly related to how complete you are about your past, both recent and long ago.
I find my mind is quite busy at times, working out conversations I had yesterday, or last week, or last year. Without those conversations of wishing things had been better, or at least different, my mind would be more at rest. I would be more at rest!
Here’s an example: I remember a conversation I had with a friend a week ago. It ended abruptly and we haven’t talked since. Now I play it over and over in my mind, thinking of what I didn’t like about what he said and what I should have said, and on and on.
Looking deeper into that conversation, I ask myself, “What loss did I experience?” Well, I didn’t tell the truth and that bugs me because it’s a loss of integrity. This leads me to thinking about what was the truth that I didn’t say that might have made a big difference in that moment? Can it still make a difference? Since the truth isn’t always welcome, is it worth the risk of irritating my friend or me? Still to be decided!
I know the freedom that comes from completing on the devastating losses in my past. Now, I’m discovering the joy and peace of being aware, and doing the work of completing on even the everyday losses.
The peaceful feeling of a mind free of incomplete conversations is something I am grateful for whenever I experience it. This is one of the benefits I have as a result of doing my grief and loss actions on an ongoing basis.
I find my mind is quite busy at times, working out conversations I had yesterday, or last week, or last year. Without those conversations of wishing things had been better, or at least different, my mind would be more at rest. I would be more at rest!
Here’s an example: I remember a conversation I had with a friend a week ago. It ended abruptly and we haven’t talked since. Now I play it over and over in my mind, thinking of what I didn’t like about what he said and what I should have said, and on and on.
Looking deeper into that conversation, I ask myself, “What loss did I experience?” Well, I didn’t tell the truth and that bugs me because it’s a loss of integrity. This leads me to thinking about what was the truth that I didn’t say that might have made a big difference in that moment? Can it still make a difference? Since the truth isn’t always welcome, is it worth the risk of irritating my friend or me? Still to be decided!
I know the freedom that comes from completing on the devastating losses in my past. Now, I’m discovering the joy and peace of being aware, and doing the work of completing on even the everyday losses.
The peaceful feeling of a mind free of incomplete conversations is something I am grateful for whenever I experience it. This is one of the benefits I have as a result of doing my grief and loss actions on an ongoing basis.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
What is "grief work"? How does doing grief work restore my energy?
I’m feeling lost right now. I’m stuck in not knowing what I should be doing. And even if I did know, I don’t have energy to do it. Then I realize when I feel this way, it’s a good time for me to write. So that’s what I’m doing. Writing leads me to think about and talk about grief—because grief is a very wide doorway to creating something new.
Grief work is not likely to prompt one to say “Oh, good! It’s time to do some grief work.” But, if you frequently find yourself not knowing what you “should” be doing and not having the energy or desire to do much of anything, you may be grieving a loss.
Sometimes grieving feels like sitting and not really feeling or thinking anything. It’s like white space on a canvass, the blank look before panic sets in, or being frozen and unable to move. If you sit in that feeling, a new feeling or thought comes in and moves you to another place—something a bit more comfortable. So, we sigh and feel glad to be out of the know-nothing, feel-nothing place.
Sometimes it’s the opposite. It’s the overwhelm of thoughts and feelings, or the feeling of something very painful. It’s so uncomfortable that we get into super-busy mode—too busy to feel anything.
Doing grief work is choosing to go into the places of the heart, mind, and body that are filled with pain. Sometimes we’re willing to go there because we’re just so tired of suppressing the feelings. We get exhausted by pretending and lying.
Choosing to delve into these thoughts, memories, and feelings, and ask what the message is, may be the most powerful way to create something new. Going into the pain may be the most direct route to generating pure energy and the power of our passion.
Grief work is not likely to prompt one to say “Oh, good! It’s time to do some grief work.” But, if you frequently find yourself not knowing what you “should” be doing and not having the energy or desire to do much of anything, you may be grieving a loss.
Sometimes grieving feels like sitting and not really feeling or thinking anything. It’s like white space on a canvass, the blank look before panic sets in, or being frozen and unable to move. If you sit in that feeling, a new feeling or thought comes in and moves you to another place—something a bit more comfortable. So, we sigh and feel glad to be out of the know-nothing, feel-nothing place.
Sometimes it’s the opposite. It’s the overwhelm of thoughts and feelings, or the feeling of something very painful. It’s so uncomfortable that we get into super-busy mode—too busy to feel anything.
Doing grief work is choosing to go into the places of the heart, mind, and body that are filled with pain. Sometimes we’re willing to go there because we’re just so tired of suppressing the feelings. We get exhausted by pretending and lying.
Choosing to delve into these thoughts, memories, and feelings, and ask what the message is, may be the most powerful way to create something new. Going into the pain may be the most direct route to generating pure energy and the power of our passion.
Friday, January 16, 2009
What are you afraid of?
I heard myself saying if we’re not thinking and acting based on faith, we’re thinking and acting based on fear. And fear is a bad thing.
But, I believe that most things are not all good or all bad; that it's how we respond to a situation that makes for a positive or negative experience.
Let's talk about grief. What keeps you from dealing with the unresolved grief you feel from time to time?
Whatever the reason maybe, it has something to do with fear.
Let’s talk about fear. Mostly when we think about or even hear the word, we put it in a negative place. It’s something to avoid. Let’s change this and consider that perhaps fear is not a bad thing. What might be good about it?
Well, it is quite a motivator of action. It makes for a lot of energy. It has a message. If I would listen to the message, instead of working so hard to avoid the feeling of fear, I might just hear something really important.
I tried it out. I asked what am I afraid of? I’m afraid I can’t or won’t generate as much money as I need. And how I’ve made the most money in the past is by working for someone else. I then looked at the facts and they told me the most money I ever made on a yearly basis consistently was when I had my own company.
OK. I feel empowered. The next time I feel fear, yes, I might first get stopped and want to avoid the feeling, but then I’ll keep going and ask this feeling of fear, “What is your message”?
When I invite people to do grief recovery, one of their fears is that they’ll get stuck in the painful feelings and thoughts of the past. I let them know they’re stuck in those places already! It’s only by consciously going into the painful and conflicted memories that we can learn something new and complete something old.
In healing the past, we can effectively and more joyously deal with the present and create our future.
But, I believe that most things are not all good or all bad; that it's how we respond to a situation that makes for a positive or negative experience.
Let's talk about grief. What keeps you from dealing with the unresolved grief you feel from time to time?
Whatever the reason maybe, it has something to do with fear.
Let’s talk about fear. Mostly when we think about or even hear the word, we put it in a negative place. It’s something to avoid. Let’s change this and consider that perhaps fear is not a bad thing. What might be good about it?
Well, it is quite a motivator of action. It makes for a lot of energy. It has a message. If I would listen to the message, instead of working so hard to avoid the feeling of fear, I might just hear something really important.
I tried it out. I asked what am I afraid of? I’m afraid I can’t or won’t generate as much money as I need. And how I’ve made the most money in the past is by working for someone else. I then looked at the facts and they told me the most money I ever made on a yearly basis consistently was when I had my own company.
OK. I feel empowered. The next time I feel fear, yes, I might first get stopped and want to avoid the feeling, but then I’ll keep going and ask this feeling of fear, “What is your message”?
When I invite people to do grief recovery, one of their fears is that they’ll get stuck in the painful feelings and thoughts of the past. I let them know they’re stuck in those places already! It’s only by consciously going into the painful and conflicted memories that we can learn something new and complete something old.
In healing the past, we can effectively and more joyously deal with the present and create our future.
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