by Heather Plett | Jun 3, 2010 | beginnings, journey, Leadership
I am excited beyond words about the trip I will take to Halifax next week to attend Authentic Leadership in Action. I have been to a lot of conferences, retreats, and workshops before – some good, some bad, and some indifferent. This one, in addition to the fact that it feels like conference/retreat/workshop all beautifully intertwined into one entity, feels like it just might have the capacity to blow the lid off “good” and plop itself comfortably into the rare category of “very good”.
I know it’s not right to judge a book by its cover (or count your chickens before they’re hatched), but there is something about this one that feels uniquely like “going home”. All of those other conferences/workshops/retreats felt like they intersected with one part of my brain or responded to one part of my “professional development plan”, but this one… well, it feels like it’s something new. Something that’s willing to spread its arms out to me and wrap every part of me – body, mind, and soul – into a comfortable embrace.
How do I know this already? Well, for starters, they speak my language. They talk about things that matter deeply to me – leadership, transformation, authenticity, compassion, justice, and creativity. For another thing, they don’t just TALK about these things, they embody them. Imagine going to a leadership conference that starts every day with mindfulness meditation? Or one that offers a sea-kayaking trip as an option? Or one that includes art and theatre and aikido?
It’s brilliant, and it makes SO MUCH SENSE, but it’s OH SO RARE. There are still so few conference organizers who have figured out that they should do anything more than offer you a bunch of academic talking heads (with perhaps a networking event or two thrown in for good measure).
I am excited, but you want to know a little secret? I’m nervous. Even a little bit scared. It’s not that I’m worried I won’t enjoy it – it’s just that I’m pretty sure that it will challenge me, shake me up, and call me to something BIGGER.
Recently I talked about the Pheonix Process that Elizabeth Lesser describes in Broken Open. Well, the little person inside of me – my scared little ego – is terrified that this conference is going to call me to BLAST OUT of the flame, with my colourful wings flashing toward the sky and RISE UP into something new. Something bigger. And something freakin’ scary.
I don’t know what that is yet. And here’s the bottom line. Here’s the little question that keeps niggling at me.
Am I worthy?
Am I really worthy of a bigger calling? Am I really ready to do something more bold? Am I willing to give up things (and possibly relationships) and risk the life I have for something scary and unsure? Am I willing to be authentic to my calling, make myself vulnerable, open myself up to the world, and then take the slings and arrows that will probably come with that?
What if I AM called to that, and people think I’m showing off? What if I stumble and fail and people say “well, if you didn’t think you were such a big shot and you’d just stuck with the old wings that were perfectly serviceable without being all flashy, maybe you wouldn’t have come crashing to the ground?” What if the naysayers say “well, we never thought you were that bright to begin with, and now you’re just making a food of yourself?”
Like Pema Chodron says (in The Places that Scare You), it all boils down to fear. Fear of who we are. Fear of what we’ve been called to become. Fear of what people will say of us.
Last year, I made a video about fear. Some of you will remember it. I think it’s time to watch it again. I think it’s time to add a new chapter.
“When I am fearless, I will believe that I am worthy of what the Creator is calling me toward.”
(Oh, this is a little bit freaky… I just realized that the kite that my daughters are flying toward the end, where it says “I will soar…” looks like a Phoenix!)
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E_vLDSJnNh8]
by Heather Plett | Jun 2, 2010 | Africa, India, inspiring people, Leadership
The word “warrior” keeps popping up in my life lately. It started last month when I referred to myself as a warrior when I served as Marcel’s advocate as we navigated the dysfunctional health care system. A few weeks later, when I registered for ALIA (where I’ll be next week!), I signed up for the workshop “Leader as Shambala Warrior”. Intrigued with the concept of the Shambala warrior (and somewhat amused by how this was following my own self-definition as warrior), I started doing some advance reading for the workshop. The reading only increased the intrigue.
To be a warrior in Shambala tradition, you must be strong, peace-loving, bold, gentle, compassionate, and forgiving. It’s not about going to war, the way we in the West would tend to think about warriorship. It’s about striving for goodness in the world in which we live. Thankfully, It doesn’t require of me that I give up my pacifist roots and go to war.
I’ve been thinking about which leaders I have witnessed that I would say embody the concept of the Shambala warrior. Many of them, it turns out, are women who work tirelessly (and usually very quietly and humbly) for peace, justice, and equality in the developing countries they call home. They may be quiet, but they are also bold and know when to call a spade a spade. I have heard many of them make rather scathing comments about what they have witnessed in our North American culture. Here are a few of my inspirations:
Elizabeth was just 23 when I met her in Ethiopia, but she has wisdom and strength beyond her years. She has committed her life to serving the cause of justice for those who are poor. She gave up her home in Addis Ababa to move to a remote village in the Afar desert to help a nomadic community build a water diversion project so that they can move beyond the hunger that has plagued them for a number of years (since the climate has changed and drought comes more frequently). Arriving in a Muslim community, Elizabeth was told “this project will never work if it’s lead by a woman”, but she persevered and a few years later, dramatic changes have occured. Not only do they have abundant crops where nothing once grew, but there are more children going to school because families do not have to uproot themselves in search of water. The most exciting change is that gradually, women are being allowed to hold leadership positions in local governance, because the community witnessed what Elizabeth was capable of.
When I met Fidelis, I couldn’t help but notice the fierce energy burning in her eyes, despite the quiet calm of her face. It didn’t take long to find out that my first impressions were dead on. This was a women who would stand up to almost anyone without flinching (she had the nerve to tell Jeffrey Sachs he might be wrong on some of his thoughts on the Green Revolution for Africa and encouraged him to listen to more Africans), but still had the grace and compassion to make everyone in her presence feel valued. One of the most striking things she said in her visit to Canada was “Why do you people in the West always think you need to FIX everything?” She was working tirelessly in her native Kenya to help farmers learn more sustainable agriculture practices. I remember a story she told about how they’d learned to give goats and chickens in some villages because then they were more assured that the women and children would eat (men were too proud to eat that lowly meat and preferred beef). Sadly, Fidelis passed away last year. A bright light too soon gone.
Mary Beth left a career in teaching to work in agricultural development because she witnessed marginalized tribes during times of conflict not having enough food to eat and it awakened a driving passion in her to do something about it. She was quickly promoted to leadership and now serves as Chief Functionary/Secretary for the Rural Women’s Upliftment Society (RWUS) in a remote area of India. When she visited Canada, she could not believe how much waste was accepted in our culture. “I visited a potato farm,” she said, “and saw so many potatoes that were left on the field to rot after the machines had finished the harvest. I couldn’t help but think of all the people those potatoes might feed.”
Victoria is the first woman to serve as General Secretary of the Association of Evangelicals of Liberia (AEL). AEL is active in resettling refugees from the many years of civil war, including helping many farmers to successfully return to their land. As a single parent who provides a home for not only her own children, but her nieces and nephews (who she is supporting through school), she was struck by the self-centredness of Western culture. “When we have a surplus, we give it to someone around who does not have enough food. There are always people around who need food.”
Shama carries herself with poise and strength. There is little doubt when you meet her that you are meeting a leader. She works in program management for Church World Service in her native Pakistan. As a woman in a leadership position in a male-dominated world, she often has to assert herself or choose to ignore the prejudice she’s subjected to. Some of the projects Shama manages help families who’ve been displaced because of conflict gain access to food. It is clear she loves her country and she longs for a day when more of the young girls she meets in rural areas have access to education. Sadly, though, even where there are schools, she fears that young people are not being taught to think creatively. “They are taught by rote,” she says. “Questions are frowned upon. I’d like to see that changed.”
I wish I’d had more time to spend with Kabita on the tiny island in the Sundarbans in India where she lives. My first impression of this young schoolteacher was that she had great respect (and expected the same) for the children under her guidance who danced for us when we first arrived on the island. She took my hand and gently guided me around her village, helping me aboard the bicycle transport, protecting me from tree branches along the path, and making sure I was comfortable. With pride, she introduced me to the place she calls home where she works tirelessly to bring education to children from marginalized tribes. I have never felt so comfortable holding another woman’s hand, but there was a special bond between Kabita and I right from the start. There were tears in both of our eyes when we parted.
As I prepare to go to ALIA, I will carry the legacy of these women with me. They are the lights along my path toward my own authentic leadership and warriorship.
by Heather Plett | May 31, 2010 | journey, travel
Recently, Jamie Ridler expressed a desire to become a more confident traveler. And my little brain went “Bing! Now THERE’S some advice I can offer!”
I’ve been on an average of 6 business trips per year for the last dozen years – some short and some long. On business, I’ve been all over Canada, into the US a few times, to Kenya, Tanzania, Ethiopia, India, Bangladesh, and Rome. Plus I’ve backpacked around Europe, traveled to Mexico, and did lots of road trips with the family all over North America. I’ve taken planes, trains, automobiles, boats, rickshaws, bicycles – you name it – all over the world. When I traveled to Ethiopia, India, and Bangladesh, I was responsible for all of the (complicated) logistics and management of a film crew. So I guess you could say I’ve learned a thing or two about travel.
- To increase your confidence, before you leave, prepare a little travel notebook (or file folder) where you keep all of the phone numbers, addresses, back-up phone numbers, etc. of all of the people you need to meet, all of the places you’ll be staying, the airlines, etc. You never know when you’ll need to reach someone in a panic and you’ll be glad you have it all in one place. Plus if you have it in a notebook, you can add any new information you need as you travel, like – for example – the phone number of the nice cab driver who delivered you to your hotel.
- Do the research you need ahead of time to increase your confidence. Now that the internet makes it so easy, I’ve become fairly masterful at taking public transit in strange cities. Print out transit maps, find out where the nearest subway stop is to where you’re staying, find phone numbers for taxis, etc. Some airports and/or transit systems even tell you how to get from your gate to where you need to be to get transportation to your hotel. Remember: information is power – the more you know ahead of time, the less you’ll have to worry when you get there. (It’s also good to find out ahead of time what you can take onboard the plane. Your airline will have that information on its website. With security changing so often these days, you have to stay on top of the new rules.)
- Speaking of transportation, I highly recommend learning how to use public transit in the place where you’re going. It’s cheaper, often more efficient, more interesting, and you get a much better flavour for the city you’re staying in. When I was in Dallas, I found out there was a vintage trolley car that would take me to the conference centre every day for free (or next to it). It was so much fun and I met the most fascinating trolley car enthusiasts who were volunteer drivers and conductors.
- When it comes to things you feel uncomfortable with, though, take baby steps. Like public transit, for example. For the first trip, take a taxi almost everywhere, but make up your mind to take at least one subway ride. You don’t have to figure it all out at once and nobody will fault you for taking the easiest way.
- One of my favourite pieces of advice – skip the ‘big box hotels’! You know what I’m talking about – the ones lined up in a strip by the airport with about as much character as a MacDonald’s Happy Meal. Check out http://www.bedandbreakfast.com/. I have stayed in some of the most amazing apartments, old inns, character homes, etc. through bedandbreakfast.com. If you’re not thrilled about sharing a bathroom (and truthfully, it’s really not a big deal – people who tend to stay in B&B’s are usually pretty respectful, polite & clean), a lot of them have private washrooms, so don’t let that stop you. Be sure to check the comments and ratings because I’ve found them to be very accurate. The only time I was disappointed with my stay was the one time I ignored the negative comments and took a chance.
- Find people who genuinely know their city/neighbourhood and ask their advice about great restaurants, where it’s safe to walk, how to catch public transit in the area, etc. One of the best things about booking through bedandbreakfast.com is that most of these places are owned by people who truly care about their homes and about hosting people. Over breakfast, ask them about their favourite local haunts – the hole-in-the-wall restaurant no tourist would set foot in – and you will find the BEST local culture. (Twitter has also become a good resource for this – when I was headed to Chicago, I asked people about what things I shouldn’t miss in the city.)
- Bring a little comfort with you. I always travel with a portable candle (in a tin cup with a lid) and lighter in my toiletries bag. Sometimes it’s the best way to relax in the evening after a harried trip. Plus I usually travel with a light weight silk shawl that’s wonderful to wrap around my shoulders when I get a little cool and/or sleepy on the plane. And when you’re dealing with jet lag, one of your best friends may be your mp3 player – at least if you’re lying in a bed in Bangladesh in the middle of the night trying to sleep while geckos are having a conversation on your wall.
- Pack light. I made a few mistakes early on and packed way more than I needed, but now I just bring the bare essentials. You never know when your flight might be delayed and you have to run from one gate to the next. When you’ve got nothing more than a small roller bag and a backpack, you’ll be thanking me for the advice. Plus it’s a lot easier to take public transit when you’re not overloaded. I spent three weeks in Africa with a suitcase that was small enough to be a carry-on bag and I didn’t miss anything – trust me, it can be done.
- Trust people. This is a biggy. I’m not saying you should be naive and let some strange man take you home in his car (you still have to use your discretion about who’s trustworthy and who’s not), but almost every single time I decided to trust the person who was willing to take me under his/her wing and help me navigate their city turned out to be a good thing. I have only once gotten scammed by a person (and really, it was pretty harmless – he just got a little more money out of me than I should have parted with for helping me get to the market in Addis Ababa, but I was never in any danger), and on the flip side, have had some truly exceptional experiences when I’ve chosen to trust. One of my favourite travel moments was when a family in Ethiopia felt sorry for me dining alone and invited me to eat at their table. They ended up taking me out on the town to see some great Ethiopian performers.
- But even when you don’t find friendly local families, you can still have a great time alone. When I first started solo business travel, I’d order room service instead of eating alone in a restaurant. That got old pretty quickly, and I really wanted to experience more interesting food and surroundings. The first few times felt a little awkward, but now I take great pleasure in savouring a good meal alone in an interesting restaurant. If you’re uncomfortable at first, bring along a magazine, a book, or your journal to fill the time while you wait for your food, but don’t miss the opportunity to people watch and listen in on a few conversations.
- No matter how well you plan, now and then, things will fall apart. The best you can do is learn to roll with it. Sometimes the best surprises come when your plans fall apart. I flew to the other side of the world with a film crew minus a videographer (he’d jammed out at the last minute), and without a film permit or visas for India. I had to hire local videographers in both India and Bangladesh AND hope that the Indian consulate in Bangladesh would treat me better than the one in Canada had. In the end, I hired the most amazing videographers (who are both now my Facebook friends) with all kinds of local knowledge I wouldn’t have had otherwise, and my hosts helped us navigate the consulate and everything fell into place beautifully.
- To make your travel more interesting, be open to new experiences and new people. Chat with cab drivers – I’ve heard some of the most fascinating stories from them. Go for walks around the neighbourhood you’re staying in. Be an explorer! Some of the best treasures I have found have just been discovered by wandering aimlessly through a city.
Is there anything I missed that you’re dying to know? Or other tips you’d like to share?
by Heather Plett | May 27, 2010 | journey
It may sound boring, but sometimes “contentment” is the most powerful feeling in the world. Today I had the happy realization that I am content.
- I’m not restless about the future as I so often am.
- I’m pretty relaxed about letting life unfold the way it should instead of rushing into the “next big thing”.
- Considering what we’ve been through this Spring, my family is all happy and (mostly) healthy.
- After some rough spots on the path, Marcel and I have a stronger marriage than ever. We’ve both worked through some issues with a happy result.
- I have some very good relationships with my staff at work and a little investment is making them even better.
- For those times when the relationships are not-so-good, I have more courage to confront what I need to confront, and that feels good.
- I’m feeling much better about my body than I have in a long time.
- I’m loving my bike rides to and from work – they’re like a combination exercise/meditation practice at the beginning and end of my work day.
- I have an amazing week of learning, inspiration, meditation, and meeting cool people coming up at ALIA.
- I get to go sea kayaking in Nova Scotia soon. SO excited!
- There are also holidays and camping trips and beach days and barbecues to look forward to.
- I feel that I am in the space I am meant to be at the moment, and when it’s time to change, I have a sense that I will be ready for it.
I just finished reading Broken Open by Elizabeth Lesser and I can’t imagine a better book to have shown up in my life at this time. It’s about how difficult times in our lives can help us grow if we allow them to. She talks alot about the “Phoenix Process”, where we have to submit ourselves to the flame in order to eventually rise out of it a transformed being. I think I’ve been through the Phoenix Process in the last year and the flame has finally subsided.
It feels so good to be able to say “Life is Good!”
Now for the part where I rise – colourful, triumpant, and transformed – from the flame… wait for it… ’cause it’s gonna be good!
by Heather Plett | May 25, 2010 | body, journey
I am falling in love with the curvy botticelli beauty I see when I look in the mirror.
This has been a surprise for me. As I mentioned in this interview with the amazing Christine of Blisschick, I’ve never really liked mirrors. Mostly I’ve regarded them as necessary evils that help me make sure I don’t embarrass myself too much in public. I’ve never been able to celebrate what they reveal to me.
But things are changing. This morning after my refreshing post-bike-ride shower, I stood in front of the full length mirror and realized there’d been a significant shift in the way I respond to that image. I like what I see. I’m fond of my curves, my flaws, and my jiggly bits. Sure they’re not perfect, but they’re me and they’re beautiful in their own way.
The last couple of months have been quite remarkable in what they’ve revealed to me. This post was about some of that learning – how I’ve begun to recognize how separated my mind/body/soul are.
As I was processing the answers to Christine’s questions, I realized that there was still some old baggage I was carrying around – stuff that was contributing to the disconnect.
Twenty-two years ago (exactly half my life, incidentally), I was in the best shape I’ve ever been. I was training for a triathlon, in which I would do the cycling (56 miles, I believe) and other teammates would do the running and swimming. I was tanned and muscular.
Unfortunately, two days before the race, an intruder broke into my apartment during the night and raped me. It was one of the most horrible moments of my life, and I’m just now realizing what long term impact it had on me. I was determined to still participate in the triathlon, and even drove out to the town where it was held. But my neck hurt too much (from the intruder’s attempt to choke me to death) and so I had to give it up.
I did a lot of healing after that, and I was pretty sure I did all the right things to process it. I wrote like a mad woman, talked to alot of people, and even wrote a play which was produced in my university’s theatre about the experience.
But what I’m realizing now is that most of the healing I did was in my MIND and not my BODY. I didn’t really give my body sufficient space to process the hurt that she received at the hands of the rapist.
The year after the rape, I didn’t bike as much, and each year it became less and less of a priority. I immersed myself in my studies, my career, and (eventually) my life as a wife and mother. I spent a lot of energy trying to convince people I was smart and capable. I took on more and more leadership roles, and let my mind play centre stage in my life. I didn’t realize that to live fully, I’d need to give my body space once again. I buried the body hurt beneath layers of food and fat and avoidance.
About seven years ago, I started biking on a regular basis again, and was reminded of how good it feels to pedal, with the sun on my face and the wind in my hair. It was good – but it still wasn’t everything I needed to do to reclaim the body I’d left behind 22 years ago.
This Spring, new things have been surfacing, and as I mentioned in this post, I’ve read some books that have opened doors in me that I didn’t realize I’d slammed shut 22 years ago. I have become awakened to the disconnect between body, mind, and soul.
Half way through answering Christine’s interview questions, I went to my bra-burning birthday party. I had some time to kill before I got there, so I wandered along the river. Leaning against a low stone wall, I had an epiphany. These are the words my body spoke to me… “Of all of my five senses, I trust the sense of touch the least.”
I’m still processing exactly what that means, but in the meantime, I’m doing my best to change it. I’m closing my eyes and running my hands gently over rough stone walls. I’m wrapping myself in the soft silk blanket I bought a few weeks ago and noticing the way it feels against my skin. I’m welcoming my husband’s carress in a new way.
One of most important things I’m doing is feeling the touch of my fingers on my own skin in a new way. I’m spending time lathering sweet-scented lotion all over my body. I’m enjoying my shower more.
When I catch my mind whispering lies to me, like “that athletic woman on the bike that just passed is probably surprised that someone with such a large ass is riding a bike”, I reach out and touch the offended part of my body in a non-verbal apology. (Try it! You might be surprised how good it feels, even if you have to sneak a touch in public.)
It’s all been quite healing, and now I can stand to look in the mirror in a new way.
Twenty two years ago, an intruder did more than just rape my body – his actions damaged my mind/body/soul connection, made me bury a whole lot of body hurt, and shattered the trust I place in my own sense of touch.
This summer – on my bicycle, in my weekend morning runs, in the way I connect with food – I’m working on healing those broken pieces. Like the song says in my last post, “I want to live where soul meets body”.
