Go Ask Alice




Alice Sommer Herz

From time to time, it’s important to ask yourself why you do what it is you do. Why go to the office? Why practice medicine? Or law? Why teach? Why sell? Why provide that service you provide? Why construct an ad campaign or marketing strategy for your clients?

Do you know why you do it?

And how to explain what it is you do? [At one point of my corporate career, my child described my work as: "Mommy talks on the phone and has lunch with people." Hey, it's nice work if you can get it.]

I’ve been thinking about “Why” a lot recently as I revamp my website and create a business plan for the coming year. What is it I’m really trying to do with this coaching work of mine?

Then, on Saturday, I saw an amazing, astounding, powerful, touching, inspiring video on YouTube. It’s about Alice Sommer Herz who will turn 107 years old in November, 2010.  That’s amazing, isn’t it?

She’s also a musician – quite a good one, having performed as a concert pianist throughout her life.  At 106, she’s still playing everyday.  Astounding, right?

She’s also the oldest Holocaust survivor in the world.

Watch the video now.  I’ll be right here, waiting for you.

That was something, wasn’t it?

Her hope, her optimism, her sense of humor. Inspiring.

“Every day, life is beautiful,” says Alice. Even the day she was arrested. Even when she was in the camp. Even in the most challenging of times.

She not only survived – she thrived.

And for the six-plus decades since the camp, she’s lived. Fully. Well. Present in this moment. She greets each day as a delightful gift, “aware of the beauty of life.”

About the fourth time I watched this film, I realized why I do what I do. My work as a coach is designed to help you become like Alice.

Happy. Joyful. Clear. Present.

Even at work.

Even when you’re challenged.

Even when it things are so bad it seems like the world has stopped spinning.

I want to teach you how to recognize when you are at your best – your equivalent of Chopin’s Etudes – and help you center your life there.  And focus on doing that best thing every single day.

Because when you do, you can happily weather any storm. And live a life well-lived. Just like Alice.

No soy una “Superwoman”

Parece haber muchas mujeres que intentan convencerse a sí mismas y a los demás de que son perfectas. El pelo perfectamente peinado, teñido y rizado. El cuerpo atlético y en forma. La ropa a la última, sexy y con estilo. Los niños obedientes, con un correcto comportamiento y las mejores notas en todo. El marido atractivo, rico, atento.

Creen que necesitan ser Superwoman. Quieren de todo con tal de ser perfectas.

Pero yo sé lo que les pasa por dentro.

Mientras están luchando por ser perfectas, sienten algún pero. La vida es una serie de experiencias donde ellas no son bastante, y lo más posible es que no puedan hacer bastante. Miran a las mujeres a su alrededor y se sienten inferiores, y tratan de ocultar que están totalmente agobiadas tratando de estar al nivel. Aprietan los dientes y sonríen a través del estrés de las expectativas de una Superwoman.

Como soy orientadora personal, la gente suele creer que yo llevo esa vida perfecta. Ayer, estaba en una tienda donde venden mi libro “Pierde peso, encuentra el amor, reordena tu vida y ahorra dinero: Ensayos para vivir más feliz”, y el encargado me dijo, inclinando su nariz aquilina hacia mí:
- ¿Usted vive lo que escribe?

Yo le sonreí con dulzura y contesté:
- Absolutamente

Y lo hago. Pero deja que te diga unas cositas que harán que mañana sea un poco más fácil para todas las que quieren ser superwoman:

Yo no soy superwoman. Ni estoy cerca.

A veces, lo único que me preocupa de mi ropa es: ¿Llevo todo limpio?

Mi casa por lo general siempre necesita que se pase la aspiradora.

Se sabe que suelo sacar a los niños a comer fuera.

Me olvido muchas veces de devolver llamadas, y soy terrible para recordar cumpleaños.

Planifico mi calendario siempre de más.

Soy divorciada.

No, no soy superwoman. Y estoy realmente contenta de no serlo. Porque lo que soy es 100% Michele. Tengo cuatro prioridades, y si puedo lidiar con ellas todos los días, estoy haciendo un magnífico trabajo. ¿Queréis saber cuáles son? Estar en cuerpo y alma con mis hijos y con cualquiera con quien esté. Cuidar mi salud física, financiera, emocional y espiritual. Aprender. Orientar.

Y eso es todo. El pelo, las uñas, el maquillaje, los zapatos…. Si llego, bien.

O sea, soy una chica imperfecta, y me encanta 100% mi perfecta vida imperfecta.

Si estás luchando por hacer lo correcto, por ser perfecta, por tenerlo todo, deja que te haga una pregunta: ¿Puedes llegar al punto de dejar de intentar ser una mítica superwoman, y encontrar el punto donde seas una verdadera chica imperfecta, auténticamente tú, feliz con lo que tienes, sintiéndote bien en tu piel, atendiendo a tus propias prioridades? Vamos, inténtalo. Todo lo que puedes perder será estrés. Todo lo que puedes ganar es a ti misma. Y para mí estará perfectamente Ok si no lo haces a la perfección.

What I Believe


I believe work can be fulfilling.

I believe you can thrive in your career.

I believe now is the perfect time to start your own business.

I believe that risk of authenticity is worth it.

I believe that leaders who replicate their own dysfunctional family dynamic are the biggest threat to a workplace.

I believe in speaking up.

I believe that change is a constant.

I believe that fear is crippling.

I believe that there’s no such thing as “perfect”.

I believe that someone right out of jail without a high school diploma can be a great employee.

I believe that someone with an MBA can be a great employee.

I believe that all great employees need a mentor.

I believe that the simplest solution is the best solution.

I believe that people are generally good, and want to help others.

I believe you never really lose when you make a mistake – you get to learn.

I believe most companies don’t really know how to compensate or incentivize their employees.

I believe some great leaders are born, and some great leaders learn.

I believe that workplaces can become better places.

And that’s why I do what I do.

And you?  What do you believe?

What’s Important To You?



In the last couple of months I’ve written about getting un-stuck by choosing growth. About how you can never make a mistake when you are centered in integrity. About how you can, singlehandedly, turn around a challenging work environment – and how to leave a toxic job. I’ve written about creating a new way to measure your own success.

And now, the single most important thing you need to know.

Ready?

The most important thing you need to know is what’s most important to you.

I was standing in my kitchen the other morning, exhausted. It’s been that kind of week. Lots of people giving me unsolicited advice about who I should be and what I should be doing. A lot of assumptions made about me and who I am. Several well-meaning folks attempting to graft their yardstick of success on to me because, very obviously to them, I have fallen short.

As I stood there, baffled, buffeted, blue – and exhausted – I had the most wonderful epiphany.

The most important thing in my life became crystal clear.

My true priority revealed itself.

And in a moment I knew that everything would be OK – because, day in and day out I am serving what’s most important to me. To me. Not to the well-meaning and not-so-well-meaning folks I encountered last week.

I am putting my energy where I want it to go, and that’s the right thing to do.

Because my number one priority is being a present parent for my children.

And although you love me, well-meaning friends, and want to see me on the Today show, knee to knee with Matt Lauer, I’m not going to do it if it means I’ll miss my daughter’s softball game. I’m just not.

And although you don’t understand it, other folks, when I tell you that I’m not that interested in traveling to Marrakesh or Istanbul unless my kids can come too, I’m sorry.

And for those who think I should be making a ton more money than I do – that I’m “leaving it on the table” – you are absolutely right.

That’s a by-product of serving my priority.

Sure, I could be back in a corporate job with a fatter paycheck and juicy stock options. But that’s not my priority.

My kids are.

Let me clarify.  I am no helicopter parent.  I am not all up in my kids’ business.  When I say my kids are my priority, I have an intention.  And my intention is to be reliable, dependable, connected – present – for them.  Because that’s how I think independent, functioning, happy adults are formed. And my big responsibility is to sherpa them to their adult life.  That’s my job.

And I’ve chosen a career for right now that allows me to serve that priority as fully as possible. See, being a self-employed coach allows me to make some key decisions for myself.  For instance, I don’t work between 4pm and 7pm. Just don’t. That’s the time we go to the dermatologist (did I mention that they’re teenagers?), the dentist, the doctor, the orthodontist (did I mention that they’re teenagers?), and every other -ologist known to man.

Four to seven is softball practice and/or games. It’s the time for a run to Target for poster board. It’s when we walk the dogs, or practice a change-up. It’s time to sit on the sofa watching Ellen and discussing both marijuana use in middle school, and what constitutes a hootchie-mama outfit.

This is the golden time that we sit down to dinner together.

A couple of nights a week, I teach or take clients after seven, which works because that’s allegedly homework time (did I mention that they’re teenagers?).

It works. I make the all the money I want to make, I have the time to serve my highest priority.

But here’s the trick. Saying, “My kids are my number one priority” is pretty daggone politically correct. Who would publicly say otherwise without fear of being hauled into the town square (or Twitter) and being stoned by the community?

You are allowed to have your own priority. And it might be growing a business. Or climbing the corporate ladder. Or creating incredible art. Or treating malaria in Africa.

Wherever you spend most of your time, or want to spend most of your time, that’s your priority.

And if you are out of sorts, blue, off step – then look at how you are spending your time and creating your days. If you are spending time on stuff that’s not really your priority, start making some changes.

And you can start by putting your fingers in your ears, saying, “nah, nah, nah, nah, nah” to shut out the voices of folks who would tell you what your priority should be.

Mother’s Day


This column first appeared on Mother’s Day, 2007. Enjoy!

Today is Mother’s Day. I was surprised to learn that Mother’s Day is celebrated on this very day in over 50 countries. Everywhere, mothers are being pampered, fussed over and adored.

As I expect I will be. As someone’s mother myself, I will likely get the traditional breakfast in bed — the surprise of finding shells in my scrambled eggs is one of life’s delights. A surprise that goes exceedingly well with toast and jelly. Especially when made with love by the hands of my children.

But when it comes down to it, I’m not much of a special occasion kinda gal. Sometimes the forced, greeting card nature of a “special day” feels less than special.

So, I have a plan.

I move we dump this holiday and every other single holiday we celebrate during the year.

Yep. That’s right. I’m suggesting we have no Memorial Day, Fourth of July, Labor Day, Valentine’s Day, Thanksgiving, Christmas, Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, Passover, Easter, Yom Kippur or any other occasion we observe.

Including birthdays.

Oh, don’t panic — we’ll celebrate each one. But we’ll celebrate every single day.

If every day were Thanksgiving, we’d live as grateful people, surrounded by family and friends, keenly aware of the abundance in our lives.

If every day were Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, we’d immediately apologize for our mistakes and quickly reconcile our differences.

If every day were Valentine’s Day, we’d pay special attention to those we love.

If every day were Memorial Day, we’d take time to honor the service and sacrifice of our veterans, soldiers, sailors, airmen and Marines, and their families.

If every day were Easter, we’d be filled with awe for resurrection and the possibility of renewal in our own lives.

If every day were Christmas, joy and wonder would permeate our lives.

If every day were Labor Day, we’d celebrate how we do our work, and make it a source of pride.

If every day was Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, we’d remember to judge people on the content of their character and not the color of their skin.

If every day were your birthday, you’d feel special, and honored and loved.

And, if every day were Mother’s Day, all mothers would feel valued, honored and respected by both their families and society — 356 days a year.

Imagine the richness of your life if it were filled with the holiday spirit every day of the year. What could you do? What could you have? Who could you be? Joyful, conscious, loving, living with abundance and open to the wonders of the world?

That would certainly be worth celebrating.