You are made for connection. You are deserving of kindness. That thing in your life that’s unnerving you right now? The situation that’s bringing out the worst in you? The relationship that’s gone sideways and feels awkward now? Take some time to sit with it. Acknowledge it. Be curious about it. To look deeply at our feelings and reactions does not have to mean they will overtake us. This was the lesson of a lifetime for me. I thought if I ever stopped and truly experienced my feelings at their deepest, darkest places, if I let the floodgates open the pain would wash me away and I’d never recover. Sometimes it feels that way though, doesn’t it? But here’s the thing: It’s not true. I’ve gone there and lived to tell about it. Heck, I’d go so far as to say I wasn’t living before I learned how to feel my feelings. I certainly wasn’t thriving, and I didn’t know joy.
Read MoreDo you ever get blind-sided by social media? You're scrolling along thinking about how you should be heading to bed and BAM!- a picture pops into your feed and suddenly you're overcome by (insert strong emotion of the moment).
That's me tonight. I did not see this one coming, and as such I had no way to anticipate the reactivity of my emotions. So here I am. Bawling.
I don't know about you, but social struggles have been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. Friendships have never come easily, and many have not stood the test of time. I readily own my part in each of those endings, it does take two to tango after all. I have always been imperfect and that's not gonna change. Maturity has helped me see the natural ebb and flow of relationships. Though it never stops feeling weird, I've grown accustomed to how friendships change with new seasons of life, and some fade away. Some we leave because they're not healthy. The endings are all hard for me.
Growing up, all I wanted was to fit in. I never did. Other kids could sense my fear, I was desperate to be part of the crowd. I never was. I walked around for 41 years wanting to be seen and known and loved for who I am, but not able to give that to myself, much less experience it from others. As a kid, and teen, and twenty and thirty something, I always felt like too much. I am extra to be sure. By design, I feel things in deep and intense ways lots of people don't. It's what makes me who I am, and it's the place from which my gifts were born. Feelings are my superpower. But being a sensitive feeler didn't do me any favors in the social arena. I cried a lot as a kid. I was teased mercilessly, an easy target.
Read MoreMy father is a bluegrass musician. He founded a band in the early ’70s called Mountain Smoke. They are notable for several reasons, but the most widely known is Mountain Smoke was Vince Gill’s first band. They opened for Kiss and have had wild things happen, like playing on the White House lawn for several presidents, being written about by Billboard, and most recently, they were featured and had a song licensed in Ken Burns’ 8-part documentary series, Country Music. By the late ’70s, my Dad had left the band behind for the world of business. But music was in his blood, and in so much of how he raised me. Decades later, he would reunite with the band and his love of playing. They still perform today.
My dad set music aside and went on to be a very successful businessman. He took deep pride in providing for his family, and he worked and travelled a whole lot of the time. Although we have since repaired the wound of his absence, the truth is he missed many of the little moments in my childhood. One of the most crystallized memories I have as a young girl follows here.My dad has a huge vintage vinyl record collection. He isn’t just a musician, he is a true music lover. Among his collection, he owns a 45 record for every hit single from the years 1955 t0 1965, and many, many more. He once ran into our burning house to rescue the records and his vintage guitars from certain destruction.
On the rare nights I remember him being home at my bedtime, if I played my cards right I’d get to go down to his study in my pajamas, hair still wet from my requisite bath. Dad would play records for me, I would dance and we’d sing along. It was the freest I ever saw him—no stress, no weight of the world, no anger—just his love of music.
Read MoreIs it hard for you to unplug? Can you stop the spinning of your life long enough to be still? When is the last time you put down your to-do list and walked away without guilt or that all too familiar undercurrent of anxiety?
I’m unplugging this week. Looking my kids in the faces for as long as they want to look back. Having spontaneous dance parties and adventures that don’t have a time limit because we’re not rushing to the next thing on our calendar or list. This is real work for me these days.
As a working mom, I straddle the worlds of business and personal all day long, jumping from one planet to the other- not so much with ease, but I have obtained a wee bit of agility in the last seven years. It’s a kind of flexibility, really. We see just how far we can stretch ourselves. What are we made of, really? Sometimes I know I’ve gone too far when I snap. That’s a problem I’m still solving as I go. I learn to adjust the more I learn where my capacities end.
Read MoreGrief is an equalizer on the human playing field. No one is immune to it. Grief has no respect for our timelines, our plans, or our need to appear put together. Most of us operate on the surface of life’s ocean with little regard for grief’s impact until suddenly one day we find it’s our turn to be churned around in the undertow. Grief leaves us wondering if we will ever get to come up for air.
I was on stage with a friend recently. She looked out at the large crowd and remarked that if every person in the audience were to reach out to our left and right, in front of us or behind, chances are we would all connect with another human who has experienced deep loss.
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