When Little Moments Are Not So Little
Did you ever have a defining moment in your life? One that brought your values into focus, or challenged you to be/do differently?
Perhaps it was a health scare, getting laid off from a job unexpectedly, or caring for a loved one in crisis.
For me, it was was a four month stretch in early 2012. It was then I lost my dad, my grandfather, and my husband (who was only 40) in what felt like one fell swoop. All while parenting my three young kiddos, two of whom we were still preparing to adopt.
I managed to hold it together long enough to see the adoption through. Boy was that a joyful day!
Check out that photo - weren't we cute?
Me (with hair) and my three littles on the twins’ adoption day, 2012
Soon after, as you might imagine, the grief overcame me. And it took me years to find my way out.
There is fascinating research on how our bodies hold on to trauma and defining events (check out the link to a resource about this at the end of this email).
When this time of year creeps up, I try to be mindful of how grief might be waiting around the corner to knock me over, steal my purse, and run away cackling along with my motivation to get out of bed.
Most years, I mark the time with a nod of my head and a heap of gratitude that I get to keep living this beautiful, complicated, life.
Some years, though, seem to take me out more than most. The burglar gets away and I watch him run down the street out of sight. This year was one of those.
The state of the world is compounding it, no doubt. There is way too much anxiety, uncertainty, and tragedy to make sense of it all, and so much complexity to boot.
It's a lot right now. A whole damn lot. We all feel it.
So how do we do it? How do we navigate the catastrophes while also fixing (or ordering) our morning coffee? How do we analyze KPIs and get excited about revenue goals? How do we stay present for those we love and serve?
And how on EARTH do we inspire others to do the same?
Before you delete this email and throw your phone/computer across the room in despair, I have a simple strategy to offer that goes a little something like this:
Ask yourself…"Am I ready?'
Here's what I mean.
Sometimes, in the midst of chaos, we have moments of clarity. We may become aware (conscious) that we have choices. Life has a way forcing our hand to make powerful, sometimes seismic decisions. Our priorities become palpable. Our values lock in.
Haven't seen that friend in years? You find out they are sick, drop everything, and fly across the world to be by their side. Rarely talk to your elderly neighbor? A snow storm blocks their front door and you suddenly feel compelled grab a dozen strangers to help shovel them out.
These powerful moments help us connect to who we are and remind us of who we want to be. These are defining moments.
But what if it didn't take a crisis to bring that to light?
What if, dear reader, you could make more decisions in every day life that are connected to who you are at your core? Or better yet, who you want to become?
How would that change you? Your choices? Your sense of purpose and joy?
How would it affect the way you lead and influence others?
This is part of the critical, messy, imperfect work of a conscious leader.
It's also what makes you stand out from the crowd…when you dig deep and ask yourself:
Am I showing up in my integrity?
Will I know what to do when faced with a critical situation?
Can those I lead trust me to be clear, solid, and strong?
Can I trust myself?
Am I ready?
Shakespeare wrote:
If it be now, 'tis not to come: if it be not to come, it will be now: if it be not now, yet it will come: the readiness is all.
(Hamlet, Act 5 Scene 2)
Hamlet was talking about the ultimate readiness. At the moment our life ends, will I be ready to say “I did the best I could, and I am at peace with who I am” ?
Many of us will not know when that moment will come until it us upon us. The challenge, then, is to alwaysbe ready. To be in the practice of cultivating our becoming the best we can be.
Even when things seem dire, bleak, and unmanageable, it is the leader in you that will find the light to guide you through. That's the becoming.
My late husband, Peter, made sure I knew to put that quote on his headstone. It was his favorite. Though he was way too young, he was able to prepare himself. He was ready.
In the wake of residual grief this past month, all these years later, remembering that - and the support of a truly excellent therapist - is what helped me climb out of my funk.
I wish you readiness, my friends.
