by Heather Plett | Apr 23, 2013 | Leadership, Uncategorized
“I’m finally beginning to realize that I’m a leader.”
Those are the words I heard not long ago from a woman who’d just finished the four month leadership program I was co-facilitating. She was an incredible woman doing great things in her community, including lobbying to save a local nature trail, but she’d never thought of herself as a leader.
I hear those words all the time, especially from women. I’ve been hearing them recently in relation to my online course Lead with Your Wild Heart. “I love your program… but… I’m not sure I’m a leader.” Almost without fail, these women are gifted in art, teaching, community transformation, homemaking, earth stewardship, etc., and yet they don’t see leadership in what they do.
Part of the purpose of Lead with Your Wild Heart is to re-imagine leadership for our time. I believe that the need in the world has changed and that we now need to see leadership through a new lens.
I believe that the leaders the world needs now are those who know how to host conversations, imagine change, paint, dance, sing, write poetry, love generously, live in right relationship with the earth, build community, imagine new ways of using and honouring our limited resources, teach, and play.
As Margaret Wheatley says, a leader is “anyone who is willing to help.” The world needs us to show up and help right now, with whatever gifts we have to offer.
I’ll be hosting a free call on Wednesday, May 1st, at 2 p.m. Central on Re-Imagining Leadership for Our Time.
The call will be an exploration into a new way of defining leadership that fits the paradigm we are now living in. Your questions and ideas on the subject will be more than welcome. One of my deepest beliefs about effective leadership is that it involves hosting meaningful conversations that help surface the wisdom in the circle. Your wisdom is welcome in this circle, and so are your doubts, questions, and curiosity.
I’m happy to be joined in the call by some of the members of my Wise Heart Wisdom Circle. Those who’ve confirmed so far are Desiree Adaway, Julie Daley, and Lisa Wilson.
Sign up below and you’ll receive the call information in your inbox. I look forward to our conversation!
ALSO… over on Facebook, I’m collecting “what if” questions about leadership to inspire us for the conversation. Scroll down below the sign-up form to see the ones already gathered, and add your own to the comments of this post.
by Heather Plett | Apr 14, 2013 | Uncategorized
I am home tonight, for a quick stopover in between hosting a women’s retreat in the woods and then traveling tomorrow (after teaching one of my weekly classes) to Minneapolis for an Art of Hosting training.
My life, these days, is all about hosting meaningful, heart-based conversations, whether they take place in the classroom, at a retreat centre in the woods, around the table in a rural coffee shop, or over the phone or Skype. I am listening deeply, coaxing a lot of stories to come forward, sharing from my heart, and doing my best to create safe space for vulnerability to show up.
I can hardly imagine more important work to be doing than this. These spaces where conversations happen and people connect with each other are where the life blood of the world is pulsing. This is where change begins to happen. This is where hope grows.
At the end of the weekend retreat, each of the women was gifted with a stone that had a word carved in it (hope, love, courage, peace) and a beaded bracelet that reminds them of the circle they are now connected to. I asked them to hold out their hands, and it was only after I took the picture that I saw that the attempt at a circle had come out looking more like a heart. Either way, it works for me!
by Heather Plett | Apr 11, 2013 | Uncategorized
There’s a ridge that runs across the prairies. It was once the beach of the prehistoric Lake Agassiz. Fed by glacial meltwater at the end of the last glacial period, its area was larger than all of the modern Great Lakes combined, and at times it held more water than contained by all lakes in the world today.
It is on that ridge that my parents’ bodies lay buried. Their bones now mingle with the fossils of ancient fish and salamander and water fowl.
Their unassuming graves lay just feet away from a stand of towering poplar trees. These trees have withstood the harsh winds, cold snows, and blistering heat that shapes the prairies. They are sturdy and courageous and they know how to find nourishment even in the sandy soil of the ridge. The roots of those trees will now feed on the decay of my parents’ bodies. The green leaves that will grow in the Spring will be richer because my mom and dad lend them their nourishment.
I will stand in the shade of those trees, come summer, and know that my mom and dad are still there, caring for me, feeding me, mingling with the soil and the trees and the dirt of centuries of history.
It matters to me, this knowledge that my roots are now entwined with the roots of these beautiful trees, and that the bones of my mom and dad are now mingled with the history of the prairies. It matters to me that the cycle of life goes on and that even in death, we matter to Mother Earth and she matters to us.
It may seem macabre, but it’s not really. It’s the cycle of life. It’s the way things are meant to be.
We can not extricate ourselves from this deep and meaningful connection.
by Heather Plett | Apr 5, 2013 | Creativity, growth, journey, Leadership
Three and a half years ago, I brought myself a promise ring.
I was visiting Banff at the time, after a business-related road trip through Western Canada. Visiting Banff always brings up mixed emotions for me. I love the beauty of the place, in the middle of the Rocky Mountains, but it holds a sad story from my past. I lived there the summer I turned 19, and it wasn’t a particularly happy summer. I was in that “trying to decide whether to stay safe in life or to take more chances and risk getting hurt” phase of early adulthood. Sadly, I let the things that happened to me that summer convince me that safe was a better option. I gave up the plans I’d had to change schools and move to another province and I went back home to nurse my wounds and play it safe.
One of the places that always brings up deep longing for me is the Banff Centre. When I lived there, my roommates and I sometimes went to watch visiting performers, and each time I went, I’d think “oh, if only I were talented enough to spend time at a place like this!”
When I visited three and a half years ago, I drove past the Centre and started to cry. I cried for the young woman I was more than twenty years earlier who believed she wasn’t talented or worthy. I cried for the hurts that young woman had already suffered and had yet to suffer. I cried for the long journey I’ve had since then, learning to trust both my worthiness and my longings, and learning to be both resilient and courageous through the hard times.
When I drove back into town after visiting the Centre and the resort where I spent the summer cleaning other people’s mess out of hotel rooms, I wandered through the downtown and dropped in at a jewellery store. In a flash of inspiration, I bought myself a promise ring with a blue chalcedony stone. (I later learned that the chalcedony speaks of spirit and trust and is known as the Speaker’s Stone, the stone of one who must measure his words. It encourages reflection and meditation, its gentle radiance preparing us for action but helping to hold back words we might regret. The great Roman orator, Cicero, is said to have worn one around his neck.)
Later that day, I sat in a cafe with my journal and wrote the following promise to myself:
I promise:
– I will take more chances.
– I will believe that I am an artist.
– I will trust my ability.
– I will look for opportunities to paint and make art as often as I can.
– I will sign up for another class or workshop that stretches me.
– I will honour the muse.
I couldn’t go back and make those promises for my 19 year old self, but it wasn’t too late to make them for my 40+ self.
Last week, in the last lesson for Lead with Your Wild Heart, I invited participants to make a commitment to themselves and to honour it with some kind of gift, like a ring. That tweaked my memory and I went back to find the original post I wrote about the promise ring I’d bought for myself. I started crying all over again – not because I was sad anymore for my 19 year old self, but because I am delighted for my 46 year old self that I can honestly say that I have kept my promise to myself.
I have done just what I said I’d do. I took more chances (quit my job and started a business), started making more art and taking art classes, I’ve been honouring the muse, and trusting my own ability.
Nothing to date has felt so much like an honouring of that promise as the creation of Lead with Your Wild Heart. Nothing has felt so much like it is emerging out of my most authentic, most beautiful, most Spirit-guided self.
I’ve just opened registration for the second offering of Lead with Your Wild Heart, and I can say that I am thrilled beyond expectation with how beautifully it has turned out. This has been an exercise in trusting my own wild heart, and I know that it will serve as a gift to all those who take it into their own wild hearts.
And now… can I tell you a little secret? I’m dreaming of taking some version of Lead with Your Wild Heart to the Banff Centre for Leadership Development. I don’t know yet how to make that happen, but I’m sharing the dream in hopes that will help me get closer to it.
I’m trusting my wild heart and seeing where it leads.
by Heather Plett | Mar 28, 2013 | courage
Let’s see… what have I done this week? Well, I taught my regular writing class at university, I welcomed a professional storyteller into my class to do a short workshop (and took her to lunch because she fascinates me), I made arrangements for an upcoming retreat I’m hosting, I visited the retreat centre where the retreat will be held (photo above), I wrote a lesson for Lead with your Wild Heart, I did a coaching session with a new client and accepted her invitation to do a workshop with the staff of her yoga studio, I promoted my upcoming Creative Writing for Self Discovery class, and tomorrow I’m heading out of town for a couple of days with my daughters.
Wow. When I break it down like that, I suddenly realize that this… THIS is the life I dreamed of two and a half years ago when I started self-employment.
I suppose you could say I manifested my dreams.
But there’s another part to this story that I refuse to ignore.
On the way to my dreams… I had a LOT of moments when I worried whether I’d have enough money at the end of the month to pay the bills, I went through a really rocky period in my marriage, my father-in-law died, my mom was diagnosed with cancer, she went through the horrors of chemo, and then I watched her die, I had some significant business failures, and my husband had a heart attack. (There’s more, but I don’t want to overwhelm you with the details.)
Would you say that I manifested that too?
The truth is, life is full of the yin and yang of happiness and sadness, darkness and light, dreams coming true and dreams crashing at our feet, love and betrayal, life and death, success and failure, grief and joy. It’s all part of the package and it all matters. You don’t get to choose one or the other – the yin or the yang.
No matter how hard you pray or meditate or think happy thoughts, you won’t be spared the heartache that is part of the package of your life. You don’t get the happiness without the sadness. And it you try to push past the sadness in favour of the happiness, you’ll miss one of the best teachers of your life.
I’m not suggesting you shouldn’t dream because it might not come true – not at all! I’m a BIG dreamer and I’ll keep dreaming until the day I die! I’m just saying that there are no guarantees, and sometimes your dreams will shift with your evolving life. It’s all part of the journey, and you need to develop your flexibility and resilience skills along with your dreaming skills.
The best you can do is to learn to ride the waves and be present in the journey rather than focusing only on the destination. Hold your seat lightly, reach for the tools that keep you from crashing too hard on the rocks, trust the other people in your boat, relax when the water is calm, prepare yourself for when the water is rough, and be present in the flow. And when you find yourself capsizing, poke your head above the water and swim for your life.
Whether you’re in the rapids or the calm waters, remember this – everything that comes your way is meant to be your teacher. If you forget that, and try to live only in the calm waters, your growth will be stunted and you won’t get anywhere. Just like the water needs to flow in order to stay fresh, you need to move through the rapids in order to thrive.
This week was good, but last week was hard. I don’t know what I’ll get next week, but I’m here, present, trusting that I have the courage and resilience to handle it. Through the ups and the downs, many of the things I’ve longed for are coming to me, but many of them have also been discarded along the journey. The best I can do is to keep my paddle in the water and keep rowing.
