by Heather Plett | Dec 4, 2013 | Uncategorized
Suddenly I know what my word for 2014 will be.
Grace.
The sudden realization of it made my eyes well up with tears just now. Because that is what I wish to spread more of in the world and it’s what I need to practice giving more of to myself as well.
This past year has not been an easy one – first there was Mom’s death, then Marcel’s heart attack, and then my broken foot – but it has been a year that has taught me that there are few things more worthy of spreading in the world than grace.
Grace is the woodpecker that arrived at the bird feeder moments after mom died reminding us that the world is still beautiful in the midst of pain.
Grace is the circle of friends who rallied around me to help pay for my trip to Lake Tahoe and Atlanta.
Grace is the food friends brought in our times of grief and illness.
Grace is that quiet moment in the woods when a deer stopped to look deeply into my eyes.
Grace is my daughters, giggling all night in a cheap hotel room, satisfied even though their friends hopped on planes to exotic destinations.
Grace is a picnic table and a bottle of wine at the edge of the lake while the sun set over the prairies.
Grace is accepting the quiet moment at Lake Louise with my post-surgery brother as enough, even though we both longed for more.
Grace is the many circles I have sat in and hosted – writing groups, leadership retreats, an artist retreat in a tiny border town, an international circle of women in Lake Tahoe, and a circle of grown-up campers at Lake Lanier.
Grace is late night swimming with a new circle of wild women friends.
Grace is hundreds of heart-opening conversations.
Grace is a quiet comment from a client that “your work changed me.”
Grace is getting up in the morning and forgiving the mistakes of yesterday.
Yes, 2014 will be a year of grace. Just like 2013 has been.
by Heather Plett | Dec 2, 2013 | Uncategorized
“Decide in your heart of hearts what really excites and challenges you, and start moving your life in that direction. Every decision you make, from what you eat to what you do with your time tonight, turns you into who you are tomorrow, and the day after that. Look at who you want to be, and start sculpting yourself into that person. You may not get exactly where you thought you’d be, but you will be doing things that suit you in a profession you believe in. Don’t let life randomly kick you into the adult you don’t want to become.”
― Chris Hadfield
Last Thursday, as Marcel and I were heading to bed, our night-owl daughters were teasing us because they’d get to sleep in the next day (it was a day off school) and we had to get up to work. Smiling, we both gave a similar reply… “I don’t mind. I actually LIKE my job, so it’s not that hard to get up in the morning.”
It was a lovely realization that we’d both come to places in our lives that “work” feels a lot like “play”. We’re both doing what we love to do and we feel like we’re making a difference in the world.
It wasn’t always that way. A dozen years ago, when we were expecting our third daughter, we were both pretty miserable in our jobs. Marcel was working in the transportation industry more by default than intention (a former truck driver who’d moved into management), and I’d worked my way up the government ranks into a job that used a lot of my creativity and leadership skills but left me feeling miserable and without a sense of purpose. We were making good money, and we enjoyed the perks that money bought us (like a boat, camper, a second vehicle, trips, etc.), so we’d stuck with it through the misery.
Gradually, though, we both recognized that we were nearing burnout and that our unhappiness wasn’t helping us to be very effective parents. Plus our exhaustion was causing us to make poor choices, like buying a few too many MacDonalds meals for our kids at the end of our long days at work.
So we started making changes. We sold our boat, camper, and second vehicle, and cut out as many discretionary expenses as we could. Marcel quit his job so that he could become primary caregiver to our kids (and cook us healthier meals than MacDonalds could offer) while attending university.
More changes followed. A few years later, we downsized even more so that I could leave my government job to take a job in non-profit that suited my passions and sense of purpose better. I loved that job for about 5 and a half years, and then got burnt out during my last year and knew it was time to move on and pursue the thing I’d long dreamed of – starting my own business.
It was pretty risky jumping into self-employment when I did, given the fact that Marcel had only managed to find work as a substitute teacher and his income wasn’t very stable or high enough to support our family, but the timing felt right, so we agreed to try. A year and a half later, Marcel got a great job teaching at a jail, and my business started to grow.
Which brings us to today, when things finally feel financially stable and we are both happy to get out of bed in the morning and work.
Has it been an easy 12 years? Not at all. We’ve had to do without a lot of things, say no to our kids more times than we’d like, not go on the trips we dreamed of taking our kids on, and cash in more of our savings than we wanted to. There have been lots of sleepless nights when we weren’t sure how we’d pay all the bills that were coming in. We’ve been living with the ugliest set of couches this side of the garbage dump, our carpets need replacing, our walls need painting, and most of our dining room chairs are broken. (An aside… yes, I recognize my privilege when I talk about these things as hardships. Some people would think of my ugly couches and worn out carpet as luxury.)
But has it been worth it? I would have to say an unequivocal YES to that. I am living my dream – doing just the kind of work I’d been longing to do. The same for Marcel.
AND, even though those 12 years have been without many of the benefits that money brings, they have been (mostly) good years. Marcel thoroughly enjoyed going to university, and I loved the non-profit work I did (especially when it took me to interesting places like Ethiopia and Bangladesh). We were much happier parents than we were when we had more money and more stress. Our kids may not have gotten Disneyland, but they have lots of good memories of road trips, camping weekends, and cheap hotel rooms. (Some of our best family conversations have been around campfires.) They’ve learned to appreciate the simple things in life and are rather proud of themselves when they pay their own cell phone bills while some of their friends have parents who pay for everything.
There is not much in our lives that promotes the value of sacrifice. We all want easy lives, and advertisers try to convince us that we deserve easy, so we buy bigger houses than we can afford, put more on our credit cards than we should, and seek that which will make us feel (temporarily) happy.
The market economy that drives so much of our culture is based on the quick fix rather than the long sacrifice. In order for businesses to grow, they have to sell us the next best thing that will make our lives easy, and we buy into that, so we are forever searching for something outside of ourselves that will fix our unhappiness. It’s a never-ending cycle, though – we go into debt to buy the things that will make us happy and bring ease to our lives, and then the debt stresses us out, so we need to buy MORE things to make us happy, and so on, and so on. There is no true ease or true happiness in that.
There is also a culture of ease within the self-help and coaching industry. There’s this dream that if I can only find my giftedness and if I think all of the right positive thoughts, I will always live a life of ease and abundance and won’t have to make any sacrifices. Many coaches and self-help authors try to sell you that dream because it makes them more money, but it’s not based in truth. Living your dream means putting in the effort to get there.
True happiness comes from the long sacrifice, not the quick fix.
Last Friday night, we celebrated my friend Jo’s registration as a licensed clinical psychologist. For nineteen long years, she has worked her way through her education to finally get her PhD and pass all of the requirements to be a psychologist. That’s a whole lot of sacrifice, but if you ask Jo, she says it’s been worth it. She’s doing work she loves and is making an impact in the world.
This past weekend, I read Chris Hadfield’s book, An Astronaut’s Guide to Life on Earth. Christ spent almost all of his life training to be an astronaut, and only spent a total of 6 months in space. The path to astronaut is an incredibly difficult one and the competition is fierce, and even when you finally make it in to the space agency, there are no guarantees you’ll end up in space. And yet, Chris would tell you that all of the sacrifice was worth it. He lived his dream, and even if he’d never made it to space, he said his years in the space agency learning everything he needed to know to go to space were worth it.
As I say in Pathfinder, that path to true happiness is not a smooth and easy one. “Sometimes the journey is excruciating. The ground is rocky and uneven, the storms come and wash away the trail markers and leave giant puddles for you to navigate, and your travel companions desert you. You’re in the middle of a jungle of broken dreams, failed relationships, disappointment, betrayal and confusion, and you’re scratched, bruised, disheartened and exhausted.” But does that mean it’s not worth it? Not at all.
A life of authenticity, integrity, and following your dreams is worth every sacrifice you make and every rocky patch you have to go through.
Instead of ease, seek truth. Instead of momentary happiness, seek long-lasting joy. Instead of the quick fix, choose the long road that leads you to a life of purpose.
Note: If this reflects the path that you have chosen in life, you may find “Pathfinder: A creative journal to find your way” to be a good companion on the journey.
by Heather Plett | Nov 26, 2013 | Uncategorized
I am excited to be able to introduce you to my new baby!
After months of dreaming, gestating, and creating, I’m ready to birth Pathfinder: A creative journal for finding your way.
This journal is a culmination of a whole lot of the work that I’ve done in the last three years (and more). It brings together a lot of ideas that I’ve developed for workshops, coaching sessions, creative writing classes, and blog posts.
One of the commonalities that I notice again and again in the people who come to my workshops or who hire me as a coach is a desire to find a more clear path toward an authentic, wholehearted, and purposeful life. Many of the people who are drawn to my work find themselves searching for more in life – more joy, more ways to use their gifts, more authenticity, more vibrancy, more community, and more spirituality.
I love working with these people. They are all truth-seekers who are already striving to make a difference in the world, and simply need a little guidance and support to help them step even closer to their true calling. Coming alongside them and helping them find this path is one of my greatest joys in life.
I want this kind of support to be available to even more people – people who can’t afford coaching, don’t have access to workshops or classes, or want to do some personal work on their own before they’re ready to be vulnerable among other people. For that reason I have created Pathfinder: A creative journal for finding your way.
Pathfinder is 118 pages of juicy content, thought-provoking journal prompts, and inspirational creative exercises.
Pathfinder is meant for anyone who needs more clarity in the direction their life is moving. Whether you are profoundly lost and feel like you’re floundering in the woods, or you simply feel a restlessness for a deeper purpose, you’ll find value in working through this journal.
In one of the exercises in the journal, you’ll explore what your core values are. I have pretty strong core values around and fairness and equality, and so I’ve decided to make Pathfinder as affordable as possible. Having worked with incredible people all over the world who are making a difference while living on the edges of the financial economy, I really wanted to create something that was accessible to as many people as possible. Much of what is created in the personal development world is accessible only to those with privilege, and that doesn’t fit with the way I want to work in the world.
For only $22, you’ll get access to a lot of the wisdom I have shared with clients who have paid hundreds of dollars for workshops, retreats, and coaching sessions.
You’ll also have the option of purchasing the journal along with a coaching session for only $85.
I sincerely hope that this will be a meaningful resource for you in your search for your unique path. It is the work of my heart and I would be delighted to know that it touched yours.
You can purchase Pathfinder at this link.
I would be deeply grateful if you would share this with anyone else who might be seeking their path. If you’d like to buy it as a gift for someone, there’s an option to do that on the sales page.
by Heather Plett | Nov 12, 2013 | Beauty
I sat on the shores of the lake, watching the birds float and fly past. A cormorant stood on a post, its wings spread wide to the sunshine. The lake is a wildlife sanctuary. In that space, the birds are safe to do what is truest to their natures. No predators can harm them there.
Sanctuary. A place to be safe.
Wildlife sanctuary. A place to be safe in your wildness.
Near the lake was a church. I wandered inside. It was beautiful, polished, and serene. A sanctuary.
And yet… it wasn’t a wildlife sanctuary. My wildness did not feel safe in that place. I wanted it to – longed for a real sanctuary where my wildness was honoured – but I didn’t trust the immaculateness. I couldn’t feel safe revealing all of myself in that space. Too much of me had been judged in spaces like that in the past.
“What if I DID feel safe in this space?” I thought. “How would church be different if it were more like a wildlife sanctuary? If it were the kind of place where we could be totally free to be our wild selves without feeling the pressure to conform? Without having to protect ourselves from predators? What if it truly represented the wild way that God loves?”
As though to test my question, I took off my shoes and stepped into the baptismal font. The water was cool and sweet against my skin. It felt good – a baptism of my wildness. But it didn’t feel safe. I kept an eye on the door, expecting a stern priest to walk in and send me away for defiling the church. All I dared to reveal was my feet. I stepped out quickly and tried not to leave footprints.
I went back outside to the lake. There I felt safe. With the birds and the trees. I took of my shoes again and didn’t worry about footprints.
A week later, at another lake, giggling in the dark with a small tribe of friends, I tripped through the woods and stepped into the lake. Tentatively, we inched our way into the dark water. It held us and invited us further in. We gave ourselves to it. Bathing suits came off and we let ourselves be baptized in our wildness. For long lazy moments, we floated – just a little bit fearful and yet fully wild and fully alive.
This was our wildlife sanctuary. Here we were safe to reveal all that we were. Here we were wholly loved – by the water, by each other, by the gods of our understanding.
From the moment we step away from the safety of our parents’ arms, we are each on a lifelong quest for that place of sanctuary – that place were we can dare to let ourselves be fully wild, fully naked, and fully baptized. Sometimes (far too rarely) we find it in a church, sometimes we find it in the woods with a circle of friends. Sometimes we only find tiny whispers of it that make us long for more.
Once we find it, we know that we need more of it and we know that we need to commit our lives to co-creating it for others. Because there is nothing quite like the feeling of knowing that we are fully loved and accepted in our nakedness. There is nothing that makes us feel more alive and beautiful.
Together, those of us who have learned to reveal our wounds and our nakedness to each other, become co-creators of circles of grace. We are wildlife sanctuary keepers. We are witnesses of the kind of God/dess who longs to help us create REAL sanctuaries, not artificial polished spaces where only those who have washed first can step into the baptismal font.
Because living truthfully in our wildness is the only way to fully be alive.
If you are longing for more of your wildness to be revealed, step into the sanctuary of Lead with Your Wild Heart. You are safe here.
