Michele’s Feast

I’ve decided that there are no coincidences – only opportunities for me to open up and learn.

Last night I found myself with unexpected time to myself. I’m sure all you single parents of teenagers understand exactly what I’m talking about. I had no plans but was utterly delighted with having no plans. My blog post was written, my to-dos all done, my day complete. I happily whipped up an egg salad sandwich and paired it with a cold glass of pinot grigio (an odd but inspired summer combo, if I do say so myself) and parked myself on the couch, remote in hand, intent on finding a movie to watch.

A movie that I picked. Me. For me. No compromising on comedy when I wanted drama.  No action when I wanted love.  It could be anything I wanted. Anything.

Ah, the delicious freedom.

There were hundreds of free options. Feeling all giddy, I only perused high definition films. Ha! Still hundreds to choose from. Then I stopped. “Babette’s Feast.” I had seen it.  Hadn’t I liked it?  It was free, so I thought, “Oh, I’ll just watch a little and if it’s awful I’ll watch something else!” [imagine the power!]

Darlings, in just a few moments, Babette’s Feast became Michele’s Feast. I was utterly drawn in.

Do you know the movie? Based on a story by Karen Blixen, the Danish writer also known as Isak Dinesen, the film follows the two daughters of an austere pastor as they deny themselves joy, love, pleasure and opportunity in order to support the work of their father. Over time, they quietly become old women, living together in rigid self-denial, keeping the memory of their father alive.

Into their lives blows Babette, a refuge from political upheaval in France. For fourteen years, Babette lives with the sisters, caring for them and for their small fishing community, mirroring their simple, unadorned life, until one day she wins the French lottery – 10,000 francs – and asks if she can prepare a real French dinner in honor of the deceased pastor’s 100th birthday.

Here’s where it gets really good.

After fourteen years of cautious living, Babette pours her heart and soul into the meal. She carefully obtains fresh fruits, exotic meats, fine wines, exquisite cheeses. She prepares the feast with care, with joy, with creativity, with expertise.

And when the meal is served, the reserved, anti-sensual, closed up, bitter, sniping guests become transformed – they actually taste their food. They enlarge their senses. They are drawn together.  They find that they love one another, and themselves.

The meal is a triumph.

And Babette is broke, having spent her entire lottery winnings on the meal.

When one of the sisters laments that Babette will now spend the rest of her life poor, Babette replies, “An artist is never poor.”

Got me right there.  An artist is never, never poor.

Then, Babette reveals that she had been head chef at a remarkable Paris restaurant, shrugs and says, “I was able to make them happy when I gave of my very best.”

Not only did Babette make others happy – she made herself happy when she gave of her amazing gifts. But wait – Babette’s final words in the film: “Throughout the world sounds one long cry from the heart of the artist – ‘Give me the chance to do my very best.’”

It’s no coincidence that I watched this film last night, because I needed a reminder that my best is all I want to do. My very best. As a woman, as a mother, as a coach, as a creator, and, yes, as an artist.

You, too, are an artist like Babette – even if you aren’t conscious of your creative power. Every day you have the chance to do your very best. Every day you have the power to live via your senses.  Every day you have the opportunity to create something new. Every day you can serve others with your creativity.   Every day. Remember that.

And, you artist, you – remember that the true richness in life is truly and utterly your own creation.

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A Change Is Going to Come

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.

Love Your Work? (What Are You, Crazy?)

I got an email this week from a lovely 25-year old reader – she asked:

Since you work with a lot of professionals and others in the work force – what’s your experience? How many people out there really love their jobs?  I wonder if I was being too negative in thinking that there’s no such thing as the perfect job or that I’ll never just LOVE going to work every day.  Any advice to thoughts along these lines?

This is a great question, whether you’re 25 and just launching your career, or if you’re 55 and in the thick of your working life.  Can’t wait to answer it.

First of all, there seems to be a collective idea about The Plan.  Know what I mean?  The Plan goes like this: Do well in high school –> go to a great college –> go to law school/get a MBA/become a doctor –> get the perfect job.

And guess what? Doesn’t always happen like that. Sorry to burst your balloon, kiddo. There’s a story in the Washington Post that might be of interest – 22-year old Bekah Steadwell graduated from a competitive college – Oberlin – and is working two jobs as a cook while living at home with her parents. And her two college-graduate sisters. Her path is much different from the one we outlined above, huh?

The trick for Bekah and anyone else whose path did not go the way they planned – they couldn’t get a job in their field, or worse, got a job and realized they didn’t really want to do that kind of work – is to accept that their path is different, and that it’s not necessarily a bad thing.

Because sometimes the deviations from The Path turn out to be the most serendipitous. Don’t believe me? Watch Apple’s CEO Steve Jobs talk about his own Path in this Commencement Speech delivered at Stanford.

Perhaps the biggest hurdle is accepting that The Path is a myth – one which creates legions of quietly desperate anxious strivers in pursuit of the impossible. Because you could go to the very best schools in the world, achieve academic excellence, get a coveted job in a prestigious place – and absolutely hate what you are doing.

It happens.

So what do you do if you find yourself hating your job?

Here’s what I tell my clients who find themselves in this fix – ask yourself four questions:

1. What can I do all by myself to create a better work situation? Could you break up the monotony by consciously doing things differently? Can you learn to manage difficult people?
2. How can I shift my thoughts away from the negative, toward the positive, about this job? Can you focus on the outcomes – like how, because of your job, you can afford that gym membership, or that trip? Can you seek to find the good?
3. Have I ever been happy? Look at past happy experiences and see if you can replicate any of the factors you loved back then into your current work. But if you’ve never been happy in any job, then there may be something you need to explore. See #4.
4. Are there underlying issues I need to work out? If you’ve had a series of unreasonable, demanding female bosses and you had an unreasonable, demanding mother, it doesn’t take Dr. Freud to determine that a bit of therapy might be in order. Really. Burying past ghosts is the single best path toward creating a happy now.

The first step in any situation that’s not working is to look  at yourself and make positive changes.  And if you try, and you still can’t find relief… then it’s time to leave.  No matter what The Plan says.

I’ll write more on figuring out when it’s time to quit – and how to do it – next week.

Money Changes Everything

 

Let me shoot straight with you.

Most of your biggest problems stem from fear.

And most of your biggest fears boil down to money.

Will I have enough?

Will I have enough to do all the things I should do?  Buy the things I should buy?

Will I fit in with my peers if I don’t have $150 jeans or regular Botox injections or trips to Disney World?

What if I have too much, and don’t fit in?  What if I become everyone’s piggybank?

What if I lose everything?  What would people think?

We place so much meaning on money.

What I’m paid reflects my value to society.

If you give me money, you must like me.

Money is the way to get the power to do what you want.

And there’s the negative about money.

People with money are unhappy, egotistical jerks.

Money changes everything.  For the worse.

These fundamental, underlying, limiting ideas around money don’t really help you – they only serve to hold you back.  You don’t ask for the raise, because you’re afraid you’ll find out what your boss really thinks about you. Which is – you fear – not much.

Or you decline to negotiate your child support agreement because you fear you’ll be reminded that your ex disliked you enough to end your marriage.

It’s a potent cocktail of emotion.  And some of you have ordered a double.  On the rocks.

But, believe me, money can be simple.  It can be easier. Know how?

Do this: Shift to seeing money as a tool.  Just a tool.  Not a referendum on you as a person.  Or your value to society. Or your desirability.

Swap out your troubling money thoughts for this: “Money is a tool that will allow me to do things in support of my priorities.”

Of course, you need to know your priorities.  And be very clear on them.  And make sure they’re your priorities, and not the priorities of your parents, your grandparents, your peers or any of the Kardashian sisters.

Because, in the long run, taking care of your financial health is the ultimate expression of self-care.

When I take good care of my financial health, I am taking good care of me.  And of my priorities, goals and intentions.

And when I am free of  limiting, negative, fearful attitudes toward money, I can easily ask my clients to pay me, or ask my boss for a raise.  I can make wise purchases and investments that support me and where I want to go.  When I am clear, I am the best advocate for myself.

When I stop operating from fear around money, I naturally move to living in comfort with money. I go from “can’t” to “can.” I move from lack to abundance, spontaneously.

It’s not that money changes everything, honey.  It’s your attitude around money that truly changes things.  Let it be for the better.

To Freak Out, Or Not To Freak Out

It was a year ago today – the Sunday after Thanksgiving – that I found the lump. The lump that turned out to be cancer.

And what a year it’s been.

That Sunday, I was at the computer trying to make sense of the strange things happening to my body. Of course, I used the symptom checker at WedMD.com. [Also known as "Hypochondriacs R Us."] One of the options it spit out was thyroid disease.

“I have a thyroid?” Seeking the best-of-the-best information, I went to the Johns Hopkins website, where I learned that my thyroid is a butterfly-shaped gland at the base of my neck, in charge of my metabolism. I put my hand there. It felt like a swollen gland. Hopkins said that if I swallowed and the lump moved up and down then it was likely I had a thyroid nodule.

I swallowed. It moved.

I freaked out.

It was not pretty. My mind raced from disastrous outcome to disastrous outcome. I spun story after story, none of them with a happy ending. Oh, I was a gray little Eeyore of a woman, muttering gloom and doom, misery and unhappiness.

But then I had to stop. Because crisis requires consistent, sustained focus. And panic trumps focus. Every single time.

And I had to focus to make my way through what was, at times, a baffling medical process.

The day after I found the lump, the medical machinery got moving with my first appointment with a doctor which led to an ultrasound of my neck which led to a fine needle biopsy which led to a meeting with a surgeon which led to surgery which led to a meeting with an endocrinologist which led to a meeting with a nuclear medicine doctor which led to radiation, which, months later, led to an outcome – disease free.

I never thought I’d say it, but I am so very grateful to have had cancer. It was a challenge I was handed, and I handled it. I’m more myself today than I’ve ever been. And I’m grateful for that.

And that’s my message to you today. Challenges will come. And they will come to you. And those you love. You may find, in that challenging instant, “To freak out, or not to freak out” becomes the question.

Freaking out in a crisis is a way to get our internal chaos to match the external chaos we face. There’s a comfort and balance in it, you know, because it’s all… matchy-matchy. But a freak out is not sustainable over the long term – panic saps your energy so you lack the ability to help yourself, or help others.

I’ve found that the ticket to managing a challenge is to freak out if you need to freak out, and do a thorough job of it. But then gather yourself together as soon as you’re able, so you can put your time and attention on whatever it is that’s facing you.

Because there is good stuff there if you know where to look.

Every challenge I’ve faced – and I’ve faced cancer, unemployment, divorce, death of a loved one – has been a moment of discovery. And, if you’re open to it, it will be for you, too.

A crisis point can be the moment when you discover what’s important to you, and the depths of your own strength and resilience. You discover who you really love, and who really loves you.

Getting the stuffing kicked out of you, ironically, provides an wonderful opportunity to become a fuller, richer version of yourself. But only if you let it. So why not let it?

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