I am woman, hear me ROAR!

photo courtesy of OnTask, Flickr

Last night was my daughter’s first rugby game, and let me tell you, she was FIERCE! She threw herself into the game just the way I knew she would – with her whole heart and body. She dug her feet in and pushed with all her might against the opposing team in the scrum (what you see in the photo – but that’s a borrowed photo and not her team). She pummelled any opponent who dared to run by her carrying the ball. She dashed across the field whenever the ball was tossed to her… and she SCORED! In the last seconds of the game, she made it across the line to score her very first “try” (like a touchdown in football) in her very first game.

I thought I would be scared to watch her (this is the girl who tore a ligament in her knee and had to have surgery because of a soccer injury – partly because she is such an intense player), but the truth is I LOVED IT!

I LOVED the energy on the field. I LOVED the way that those young girls get to live out their fierceness in such a healthy and fun way. I LOVED the way Nikki would not back down from even the biggest opponent.

I’m a little ashamed to admit this, but I used to be afraid of her fierceness. I used to think it was my job as her mom to help her cage it in some way. I used to cringe when I’d watch her get fouled out in basketball or get penalties in soccer. It was hard to watch that fierce look in her eyes when she’d throw her passion into a sport, because I was afraid she’d get hurt or that she’d hurt someone else. I’d tell her, when she’d come off the field, “can you be a little less vicious? Tone it down a little.”

But now? I am thrilled for her that she has found a sport that honours that fierceness in her. I told her last night, “Honey, don’t ever lose that fierceness. Find healthy ways of using it, but don’t ever let people tell you it’s wrong.”

Because I realized something last night as I watched her. Somewhere along the line, I let my fierceness be caged. I let the expectations that I be a “nice girl”, a “well-behaved girl”, a “quiet girl” put me inside a cage and it is taking me years to break out of that cage. Even now I still fight those bars, trying to break out into freedom. Even now I keep silent when I should be shouting, I make choices that limit me because I don’t want to hurt people’s feelings, I tell little white lies because I hate offending people with the truth, and I bottle anger inside because it scares me.

After the rugby game last night, I read Ronna Detrick’s magnificent post about the vision, the roar, and the muse and I knew what I needed to do. I need to ROAR! I need quit trying to bottle the fierceness inside me. I need to quit letting myself believe I have to be polite and nice and never hurt anyone’s feelings. I need to challenge those people who dare to bottle my truth just because it scares them. I need to let my inner warrior CHARGE forward with courage and strength.

This morning, as I ran, I had a flashback to the birth of my second daughter. In the depths of labour, after I’d let out a fierce, primal scream, a nurse told me, with a measure of impatience, “if you keep screaming like that, you’ll have no voice tomorrow.” Instantly, I went to that place I go when I’ve dared to step out of the role of “nice, respectful, quiet” girl and someone calls me on it – I went to shame. I bottled the next scream deep inside because I didn’t want to cause anyone annoyance, I didn’t want to embarrass myself, and I didn’t want to risk tomorrow’s voice.

But you know what? Later, after I held my daughter in my arms, I thought, “BULLSHIT! WHY would you tell a birthing woman to keep silent? If you can’t scream in childbirth, when CAN you scream? And what kind of nonsense is not screaming today because it might hurt your voice tomorrow? If today needs a scream, well then, dammit, SCREAM!”

I can’t go back to that moment and let out that next scream I bottled, but I can choose to not let anyone bottle the next scream that needs to erupt from that primal place in me.

I will not be silent anymore.

I will not let my fierceness be caged.

I will challenge old paradigms of leadership and write books about new and scary ideas, if that is the scream that needs to emerge.

And I will sit on the sidelines and CHEER as my fierce daughter charges headlong into a sport that may very well hurt her. Because DAMMIT if she can’t relish her fierceness now, then some day she will be lying in a hospital bed and letting a nurse silence her primal scream.

What makes you a leader?

Leadership is a BIG word. A scary word.

It’s one of those words that we just don’t feel like we have a right to claim because “wouldn’t that be showing off? Playing big? Acting like I’m something I’m not?”

It took me a long, long time to believe that I was a leader. It took the coaxing and cajoling of a good mentor to convince me that I was, indeed, a leader, and I had not only a calling but a responsibility to lead. Even then (and even now) I often let myself slip into old stories that tell me that “I don’t have any influence. People won’t take me seriously. I’m not a leader. Leaders are smarter than me.”

I think one of the biggest problems we face in our culture is that so few of us accept the mantle of leadership. (And yes, I’m pointing that finger in my direction too.) We’re all looking for someone else to lead us. Because leadership takes guts. And determination. And more self-confidence than we feel we can muster. And it means getting our hands dirty.

We accept what’s happening in our communities because “well, it’s not up to ME. It’s someone else’s problem.” We let people go hungry in our neighbourhoods because “isn’t that something that should be handled by the social services in our cities? I don’t know how to change things.” We accept the bad decisions of our politicians because “it wasn’t ME who was elected to parliament – I don’t know how to convince people that the things they’re doing aren’t right.” We sit back and grumble and complain about the way businesses are raping and pillaging our earth because, well, “what difference would it make if I said anything about it? it’s just little ol’ me. I’m not a leader.”

Time’s up people.

We’re wasting our time waiting for someone else to step into the role. The earth and all of her people don’t have time for us to sit around playing small and waiting for a saviour to show up.

WE are the leaders we seek.

WE are the ones who’ve been called to lead transformative change.

WE are the ones God has equipped with the skills to make a difference for the world.

WE are the ones who have influence, even if it’s just with the other soccer moms in your neighbourhood.

Stop trying to pretend otherwise. Stop letting the gremlins win.

Stop thinking that leaders are only those with the right expertise, wisdom, self-confidence, influence, platform, credentials… fill in the blanks.

Even if the only way you know how to lead is to model a new way of living, YOU are a leader.

Go out there and lead.

Why not me?

One of the things I’ve learned in my self-employment journey so far, is that almost every day, often several times a day, I have to ask myself “why not me?”

“I wish someone would compile the ideas of a bunch of people who’ve given some thought to feminine wisdom. WHY NOT ME?

“There are lots of people who could benefit from a deeply personal book about losing a stillborn baby but gaining a deeper spirituality. WHY NOT ME?

“There’s an amazing conference coming up and they could really use a little help with their social media promotion. WHY NOT ME?

“Somebody should teach leaders to think a little more like artists. WHY NOT ME?

It doesn’t come naturally, this question. My default position is to think “surely someone else is more competent at it than I am. Maybe once I’ve read a few more books or taken a few more courses, or had a few more things published – THEN I’ll be ready to take on this task.”

We limit ourselves, don’t we? We assume our ideas aren’t smart enough, unique enough, or educated enough. We think we need a masters degree before we have a right to speak with authority. We think people would be better off hearing from the REAL experts – you know, those with agents and books on the best-seller list.

And then there are the fear gremlins – the voices that whisper “but if you get a book published, people will think you’re showing off” or “what if you teach a workshop about thinking more like an artist and there’s a REAL artist in the room who tells you that you don’t have a clue?” or “what if you offend someone who’s chosen a different path than yours?” or “what if your family and friends start thinking you’re too big for your britches and they reject you?”

And yet… there’s a burning deep inside that says “your wisdom is worth sharing. Your ideas have merit. You’re smart enough for this calling.” And then there are the people who take the time to say “your words make a difference. Keep it up. I need more of what you have to offer.” And you realize that whatever it is you’ve been given to share is worth sharing, even if you only share it with a handful of people. And that it’s not about you, it’s about surrendering to what the Divine asks of you.

And every day, you make a choice to look into the mirror, smile at the fear hidden behind your eyes, and say “Why not me?”

p.s. Want to get more practice in saying “why not me?” Check out Playing Big by my friend Tara Sophia Mohr. I just know it will be amazing!

Speaking a new language into the corporate world

The language of business and government is largely the language of men. It’s language that’s been shaped by sports and warfare – masculine arenas.

Think about it for a moment – strategic planning, performance reviews, bite the bullet, fast track, jump the gun, keep your eye on the prize, rally the troops, ball park figures – they’ve all been influenced by sports or warfare. Even coaching, though it has developed softer edges, is still a word that comes out of sports, where performance is everything.

Language is not only shaped by the culture in which it is formed, it also helps shape the culture. When you enter a new workplace, you learn to speak in the local lingo. Before you know it, you’re not just talking in those terms, you’re thinking in them too.

Case in point: Not long ago, in my Writing for Public Relations course, we were talking about communications strategies, and I was telling the students how important it is to evaluate after the work is complete. “Even if you don’t have time for a full-fledged evaluation,” I said, “at least do a post mortem with your planning team.”

The students wanted to know what a post mortem was, and I explained that it’s a meeting held after work has been completed to discuss what went well and what needed to be improved next time. I was so used to using the word, I didn’t even think about what I was saying, until a student raised his hand and called me on it.

“Remember how you were saying that language in the world of business is too often based on sports and warfare?” asked the student who’d spent time in the army. “Well, ‘post mortem’ is an excellent example. Interestingly enough, the army no longer uses that term. They now refer to it as ‘after action review’.”

Needless to say, I was sufficiently humbled by my student who’d caught something I didn’t even recognize in my own language. That’s how language is – it becomes so embedded in our psyche, we don’t even recognize how it influences us anymore.

I’m on a personal mission not only to change my own language, but to influence the language of the corporate world. I think it’s time for more feminine language – the language of art and intuition added to the language of sports and warfare.

This morning I delivered a speech to a local business club. I spoke on “How to Lead with your Paint Clothes On.” I talked to them about how to think more like artists, how to incorporate creativity and pauses and white spaces and practice in their business planning. I encouraged them to allow for mistakes, open themselves to possibilities, and trust their intuition. I handed out markers and doodle pages and told them to doodle while I talked. I encouraged them to hold art parties with their staff.

I don’t think the business club (mostly men) knew exactly what to make of my talk. A few of them offered stories of how creativity had shaped what they did, but most of them simply thanked me politely and then left.

It’s a new language for many people – not one that’s particularly comfortable in a business world. Speaking a new language into an old culture can be intimidating and downright scary. But change doesn’t come without a bit of risk. If we want things to shift, sometimes we have to be willing to be the oddball in the room.

Here’s the handout I used this morning. On the back of the page it said “Go ahead and DOODLE!”

Some recommendations for your learning journey

Christina Baldwin teaches the power of circle and story

Last year, my word for the year was journey, and what a journey it was! There was significant learning and challenge and change along the journey, culminating with the end of a career and a big step into self-employment.

When I look back on the year, I recognize three major transformative moments when I was immersed in such amazing learning that it changed my life. Those three learning events are available to you in one way or another and I thought I’d tell you about them in case you’re interested.

1. ALIA Summer Institute: Wow. I hardly know what to say about ALIA. It is a transformative experience like few others. If you are interested in impacting social change and you want to immerse yourself in big ideas, surround yourself with big thinkers, and spend time imagining what big things you can do in your life, this is the place for you. It’s hard to define it exactly – it’s a combination of conference, retreat, and intensive workshop. ALIA is one of a kind in its approach. These are people who know something about holistic learning. At the summer institute, you will spend time in meditation, body movement, art & creativity, and deep learning of all kinds. You’ll meet people who are transforming the world through contemplative juggling, aikido, meditative painting, music, and a whole lot of other fun and interesting things. This year, I’m very excited about the fact that I’m doing some work for the ALIA team and so I’m getting to know them better AND I’ll be attending in June.

2. Teach Now Program – Another WOW. I don’t sign up for a lot of online courses, because I tend to prefer in person learning where I can engage in more meaningful conversations, but Teach Now is a BIG exception. I signed up and I listened to every single call and every podcast – sometimes more than once. I still have all of the interviews on my iPod and often listen to them when I’m running because they are just so full of wisdom. This is AMAZING stuff. If you are doing (or dreaming of doing) any kind of teaching, you really should check it out, because few other things have had as much impact on my teaching practice as this course. Here’s a quote from the note I sent to Jen & Michele after Teach Now: “Because of Teach Now, I have been bold enough to be a different kind of teacher than most of my students have had experience with before. I am daring to encourage them to learn FIRST to write from their hearts and THEN to learn to write technically for future PR jobs.” Click the link above to sign up for the free call – you won’t regret it. (p.s. I liked it so much, I’m planning to sign up for a second round!)

3. The Listening Well – A Circle & Story Workshop – WOW again. (How lucky I’ve been to have three wows in one year!) For years and years I’ve been dreaming of taking a workshop with Christina Baldwin. Ten years ago, I first came across her work when I was in a really difficult place in my leadership journey, and it felt like someone had lit a candle in a dark place for me. Her books on Circle and Story resonate so closely with the deep longings of my heart. Attending the workshop just after quitting my job and jumping into a brand new place in which I dream of doing work similar to what Christina is doing was perfect timing and a dream come true. I can’t recommend her work strongly enough. If you can’t make it to one of her workshops, at least check out one of her books.

What makes you cry?

“What makes you cry?”

That was one of the questions I posed to the participants of a leadership workshop I facilitated last week. We were talking about our values and how we as leaders model those values. It was part of a series of questions meant to help them clarify their own personal values.

Tears connect us to the deep places in our hearts where we guard those things that are most important to us. Tears emerge out of love and hurt and beauty and pain – all of those strings that attach us to our deepest values.

“What made me cry this week?  The story emerging out of Egypt,” I said. “I don’t know when a news story has had such an emotional impact on me.”

It’s true. I cried. Along with so many other people. (In fact, when I tweeted about my tears, several others chimed in that they too were crying.) I cried, and cheered, and laughed, and even returned a thumbs up sign to a man in Tahrir Square who grinned into my TV screen.

How was the story of Egypt connected to my values? In SO many ways…

– I value courage.

– I value human rights.

– I value collaboration.

– I value women working with men, old working with young, Muslims working with Christians.

– I value peaceful resolutions and positive alternatives to oppression and violence.

– I value people who place the common good ahead of their own comfort.

– I value independent voices, willing to rise up and say “This must change.”

What do you value? What makes you cry?

Don’t ever be ashamed of the things that make you cry. They are the things that make you human. They are the things that make you strong. They are the things that help you step into leadership.

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