In case you’re wondering, I’m writing this for you today.  Because I know how much you struggle.  I know how you try to be brave and strong, and try to be positive, and try so very hard to bring only good things into your life.

In an effort to preserve the peace, you’ve swallowed your words for years.  Conflict or even the prospect of conflict – wow, that gives you an ache in the pit of your belly.

How can you be the person everyone expects you to be and say things that are hard to say?  Harder to hear?

What if people heard what you really had to say, and then got mad?  Caused a scene?  Decided they didn’t like you?  Fired you? Or left you?

Academics write books on effective communication and they always envision scenarios where both parties are equally committed to a positive solution. Like this actually happens in the real world.  Usually, one timid person raises a difficult something and a bully turns into rubber and bounces the pain back. You’ve been there, haven’t you?

Honey, I know you.  And I know just how hard this is – but I also know how much you suffer in silence.

Can I tell you something?  Every time you refrain from saying what needs to be said, you lose a little bit of your self. A little bit of your strength.  A little bit of what makes you, you. And one day you may wake up to find that there’s nothing left.

That’s the hollow and vacant space where your soul once was. That’s when you wonder who you are and if your life really has any meaning.

Don’t wait until you’re there.  Start from right here.  Pledge to yourself that you won’t walk away from the difficult subjects lodged in your heart.  Be patient and gentle with yourself – it’ll be a bit overwhelming to start reversing the pattern, because you’ve been out of practice for years.

Know how wonderful children are?  Know how they say the darnedest things?  Kids have the honest heart to ask, “Why?” And they have the presence to say “ouch” when something hurts.

And here’s where I’d like you to focus – on being like a wonderful kid. 

Simply say “ouch” when something hurts.

The easiest way to start having hard conversations is to focus on your own “ouch”.  Too many of us face difficult people and difficult conversations with the intention that we’re going to win by getting someone else to change, or by getting them to validate us by telling us, by golly, that we’re right!

When where you have to start is by claiming your own voice, and knowing that simply expressing yourself is winning.

It doesn’t matter what the other person does.  It doesn’t matter how they react.  What matters is that you have claimed where you hurt, and what that means for you.

Of course, your pain ain’t nobody’s business but your own.  So no blaming, and no name calling, OK?  Simply state, “I feel …” and get it out there.

Sure, it’s scary.  But start small.  Don’t jump out of the box by confronting the biggest, baddest pain you’ve ever faced.  Start with the small pain in the moment, be clear about what feels ouchy, use “I” statements and – guess what? – it’ll probably be no big deal to anyone else but you.  And each time you recognize and voice your ouch, you’ll build your muscles, and feel stronger, and then you can tackle the larger and larger ouches.

Until the long-held pain is gone and all you have to do is manage the little bumps and scrapes you get in the course of a day.

Won’t that feel good?  And instead of relentless, forced happiness, you’ll feel truly happy.

Which, my friend, is everything.

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Freedom is a precious, precious thing, bought with tears, with blood, with lives.  We’ll fight wars for autonomy.  Immigrants will travel the seas for independence. People will die for liberty.

I adore my personal freedoms, and will go to my grave supporting your right to have your own, too.  It’s just that important.

But freedom has a twin brother, without whom freedom cannot exist.

And his name is courage.

Yes, courage is often what you think it is – facing down the gun barrel of an enemy and moving forward despite the risk.  Courage is racing into a burning building to save lives.  Courage is heroic, and in the moment, and the kind of thing we witness and say, “wow.”

But there is courage, sometimes, in just waking up.  In breathing.  In continuing to live.  In choosing integrity. Day after day, despite the risks, being your best self.  Making the small but tough choices.  Teaching your children well.

Today, I will celebrate freedom.  And I will also laud courage.  Because when one is tested, both are tried.

Courage and freedom – hand in hand, building this country.  And, every day, building our lives.

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I don’t know about you, but it feels like a change is coming.

Something’s in the air, and I can’t quite get my finger on it.

In the last two weeks, I’ve spoken in front of five audiences. I’ve led another three small groups. Worked with a number of individuals. I’ve talked with a bunch of friends. And all the questions, and most of the coaching, has touched on the pervasive feeling that something’s about to happen.

A shoe is ready to drop.

Do you feel it?

Don’t you want it to happen already?

Me, too.

But one thing I’ve learned is that you can’t rush waiting.

You’ve got to let it happen at its own time and its own pace.

Make the time to be quiet, and still, and listen with your heart.

And love that change whenever it comes. Whatever it looks like.

Because it’s probably going to be great.

It usually is.

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“Mother” is one of those words that we think we understand,  yet “Mother” has a hundred different meanings depending on who’s using or hearing the word.

Mention “Mother” to Joan Crawford’s children, and you might get a wire hanger in the ear.  Mention “Mother” to others, and you’ll get a honeyed story of love, kindness and connection.

And then there are the women who are not mothers, yet mother children every day.  Teachers, aunts, neighbors, coaches, friends – these women are the ones who step up and provide stability and frameworks for children who might have mothers more like Joan Crawford than Michelle Obama.

I thank them.

Because it was women like this who gave me a glimpse of the woman I might become.

And it’s them that I recognize today, Mother’s Day.

Giving birth is just one aspect of mothering.  Caring, nurturing, listening, challenging, supporting – these are the hallmarks of women who make differences in the lives of children.

“Every child needs and deserves at least one person who is crazy about them,” said Fran Stott, a noted child development expert.  And while having a mother who is crazy about you sets you up for a life where you feel secure, loved and known – sometimes a mother is just unable.  We know this.  Three quarters of great literature focuses on this theme.  And don’t get me started on Disney movies.

Today, let’s recognize mothers, and thank them.  Then let’s take a moment to thank all the other people who are crazy about our kids, too.  Who listen to them, and tell them they are valued.  Who love them.

Today, whether you’re a mom, or you’re a neighbor, or a Girl Scout leader, or a softball coach, or an aunt, or a school bus driver, or a widowed dad – from the bottom of my heart, thank you for being crazy about children.  The work you do is vitally important, and emotionally enriching.

With every kindness to a child, you create a better world.

I’m absolutely crazy about you.

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You don’t know what to do.

Oh, you’ve got plenty of ideas about what you could do.  About what’s possible.  About your dreams.

Or maybe you’re really, really busy – pursuing a hundred leads at once and reeling from all the potential paths available to you.

But somehow nothing’s really happening.  Nothing’s clicking.

And you’re either starting to panic, or, conversely, starting to think that being where you are isn’t really so bad.  You can hang in there until things start to change.  Whenever that might be.  Someday.

Who finds this familiar?  And just a teensy bit scary?

So, let’s talk about it.  Let’s figure out why you consistently step away from making your ideas into something real, shall we?

It’s easy to be drunk with love about what’s possible.  “I take this job, and I can make a million dollars and become CEO one day.”  Or, “If I become a joint venture partner with this famous person, my life will be easy and I’ll become famous, too.”  And, “It’s not really that bad – I bet I can make it better.”  And we are so in love with this vision that we fail to see that the CEO is only 32 years old and not going anywhere any time soon, or that the famous person has staff that deal with “joint venture partners” (and there are hundreds of joint venture partners), or that the thing is not bad – it’s horrific – and is so toxic that hazmat is required.

The best dating advice I ever received was, “Never fall in love with potential”.  Had I ever followed it, I would have been saved plenty of heartache. But, after being bashed about the head and shoulders several times, I finally learned the lesson.

Today, when offered a possibility, I put potential aside and look at what’s at hand with a clear eye.   Does it fit with my strengths?  My values? My goals?  Notice I’m not asking, “Could it possibly, with a lot of work, pixie dust and spit, maybe fit?”  It either fits or it doesn’t.  And if it fits, that’s when I look at potential.  Does this opportunity allow for growth?  Is it fun?  Is it worth my time?

Isn’t it nice to have a dream?  Feels so dreamy, and love-ly.  We can visit our dreamy dream whenever we want, like some personalized amusement park, and lose ourselves in all the possibility.  And we love the idea of the dream, and fondle the dream, and protect it.  But we never make one step toward realizing the dream in our lives.  The singer never takes voice lessons, the writer never types, the entrepreneur never starts a business.

Why?

Because the dream is perfect, and real life is seldom so.

If you’re a dream-fondler but rather restless, here’s an exercise:  write down a full description of your dream.  All of it.  Even the minutiae. Then go back through and pick two things – just two teensy things – you can easily do to move ever-so-slightly toward making the dream real.  See how that feels, try a couple more, and if you hit resistance, it may be because:

Let’s say your dream is to be a writer, and the teensy thing you choose is to start writing.  And maybe you even begin to call yourself a writer.  That might feel like a change. A re-definition.  A big switch.  People might laugh.  You might not fit in with your friends – they don’t even read books – or your family – who values brawn over brain.

Or maybe you grew up in a family that prides itself on academic and intellectual pursuits.  You go to a competitive high school, and all your friends are shooting for the Ivy League.  You go to a top school, and a prestigious graduate program.  All is as it should be.  But you’re not happy.  All you ever do is dream of starting your own landscaping business.

But if you become a landscaper, what will people think?  What will you have in common with your Ivy League friends?  With your siblings?  With your parents?

The fear of loss keeps you in a job you don’t like, being measured by a yardstick that’s not even relevant to your dream.  If you have a strong pull toward belonging and connection, you might hold on to the group’s yardstick because making your own is so scary. And the group might say it’s wrong.

Understandable.  Hard to shake.

But so worth it when you do. Remember: the people who love you will love you whether you’re a physicist or a landscaper.  Whether you’re a Regional Sales Manager or a writer.  More importantly, you will like you when you’re living your dream.

The failure to execute is the Big Kahuna of stuck.  Making your dreams come alive, though, is the Big Enchilada of happiness.  Go ahead. Start now.

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