De Fusing Holiday Conversations.

It seems like everyone has an ‘Uncle Fred’ in their closet, the person that you have to see at a family holiday function that’s almost impossible to have a normal conversation with.  Have you ever stopped to consider what is really at the root of this verbally challenged individual? 

I have at least  1 Uncle Fred.  And, I truly thought I did understand.  Until, I recently read a great book where the subject of ‘silence or violence’ was described as a cornerstone for improved communication.  Upon reading this, I understood, for the first time, all the crazy, over reactive, explosive interactions I have had with my father over the past 50 years.

In a nutshell, here’s what I learned.  During this holiday season, when you find yourself in the middle of a difficult conversation (whether anticipated or by surprise) instead of getting caught up in it (which you kind of knew was coming) be mindful of 2 very common, and easy to detect, indicators that your communication has totally derailed.  Silence or violence.  Both of these conversational behaviors are a true indication that your conversation has become a monologue, one person talking the other not listening.  It is the sign that they feel unsafe. 

This was a true eye opener for me.  A violent response means they feel threatened?  What about me?  I’m the one being shouted at?  The truth is their reaction is a long standing, learned defense mechanism to feeling unsafe.  And, although it takes time, and patience, you can work within any conversation to make someone feel safe, if you choose to.

So, how do we end this vicious verbal dance we’ve been doing for years?  By following this proven practice:

1. Watch for the first signs of impending silence or violence, in existing relationships, this is generally easy.  We all know who we butt heads with on a regular basis.  In other circumstances, just be mindful of the possibility.

1. At first signs, (crossed arms, looking away, set jaw, change in breathing)  mentally stop!  Take a breath, releasing all tension and expectation from your mind and body.  Recognize that unless you change something at this very critical moment the conversation is over.  Let go of being right, heard, or respected for just a moment.

1. Set about making the person feel comfortable and safe again.  Remind them of how much you value their opinion, beliefs, desires or choices.  Think of something you can say that validates who they are, what they want or believe.  Acknowledge them, maybe even several different ways, followed by “and, (never but) I’d like to explain why I ...(feel the way I do), (need what I need) etc.”

1. If you are met by silence or violence again... you’ve trampled on their safety, again.  Go back to #2.  Repeat this process until you can have the interaction you hope for.  

Please don’t be mistaken into thinking that this is a 1-2-3 fix.  If you’re lucky, it might be, especially with strangers or those you rarely engage in confrontational conversations.  For those long standing, turbulent relationships this will take time, and a mindful practice.  But, wouldn’t it be great if it paid off?

You can defuse those stressful holiday interactions by noticing when someone is withdrawing from a conversation either by silence or violence, accepting that you unknowingly made them feel unsafe, re-establishing the status quo, and moving on.

Happy Holidays.  May your conversations be authentic, joyful, and calm!

Age : The Golden Attribute

I saw the above post on a FB page today and I was immediately inspired to write.  This is a subject near and dear to my heart...that of the limitations of age.  Here's what I believe...

If you hear yourself saying 'if only I were younger' or  'I’m too old to...’ you are not living the life you were meant to live.  You are shortchanging yourself of many fantastic experiences.  I believe the issue is more one of size, rather than action.  Meaning, at 18, when I took up skiing, much like an unrestrained toddler I threw myself on the slope.  I was young, resilient, no thought given to broken limbs, concussions, or lost wages.  Life was meant to be lived, here, now and big!

What's Keeping You From Marrying A Young Italian

Expectation is a powerful force. Combine that with preconceived notions and you have the potential for a huge and unnecessary hurdle.  I was reminded of this the other day when I was watching an old movie with Olivia De Havilland called Light in the Piazza. It’s a sweet tale of a mother who’s daughter becomes mentally impaired after suffering a serious injury in childhood.  The daughter, now aged 26, and mother take a holiday in Florence.  Very watchful and protective of her extremely lovely, yet equally innocent daughter, Olivia is surprised and concerned to find her daughter has sneaked away, met a young Italian, and in 1 afternoon fallen in love.  Although she makes every attempt to keep the 2 apart, the boyfriend, played by the dashing George Hamilton is overcome with amore for his lady love, delighting in her innocent, childlike nature, joie-de-vive, and purity.

Sometimes You Gotta Cry to Reach Your Dream

For awhile I stopped writing my blog because I didn’t feel I had anything inspiring to offer, after all that is what this blog was designed to do.  But lately, life has thrown me for a loop, putting extra stressors and challenges in my path at every turn.  I have hidden this away not wanting to share a side of me that struggles and isn’t standing strong all the time.

In the last few days I have come to recognize the strength it takes to keep muddling through.  I have come to acknowledge that it’s OK to feel weak (something I absolutely abhor), to give in.  It's OK to feel defeated provided  I only choose to visit this place and not 'live' here.

Four years ago I set out on a path to menopausal nirvana, the land of purpose and fulfillment after motherhood.  I wanted to ‘get it right’, to make choices that were the very best for me, (taking into account that I am happily married).  In that time I have:

Faced and overcome a lifetime of feeling stupid due to undiagnosed learning disabilities by attaining my personal training certification (a self taught program including a text book of 500 pages...my disability is dyslexia).  

I have attended countless networking meetings populated by women in suits (hugely intimidating), where I felt totally ill equipped to even show my face let alone stand tall and proud introducing myself and my business. 

I have forced myself to be a presenter at a dozen or more meetings hoping I could inspire women to see themselves in a better light...to step into their greatness, while I was trying to step into mine.

I have floundered in my search for a passion and purpose, desperately seeking something I could really dig my teeth into, to feel inspired by, to call my own and share with others.

And, after 4 long years I HAVE found my voice.  I have spoken about my emotionally and verbally abusive father.  I have taken back my power and am creating programs to give women a voice.

Yet, as I am writing this, I am crying.  I am tired.  I am tired of climbing out of the place I used to live it.  I want so much more.  I can see bigger things.  But, each dream and each vision requires more courage and tenacity.  It requires more dedication, more guts, and more hard work.  And, I’m tired.

So, I have decided to start blogging again.  Because I want other women to know that although it looks like I am smoothly navigating this journey, I go forward with fear and doubt, and that’s OK...because, I will go forward...as you can go forward.  I will take time to re-fuel because no matter how quickly I want to get ‘there’ I need to take care of me, right now.  My heart and my mind need to rest.  I need strength to be courageous and that requires enormous amounts of self care and patience.  It’s OK to rest.  It’s OK to cry.  It’s OK not to have all the answers.  It’s OK that it’s not happening now.

I will continue to write because I want to inspire.  This is a challenging time, going from over attentive mom and wife to an independent woman of power.  But, there are so many great things that have come out of this journey.  I have some of the best friends I have every had in my life.  I am filled with purpose, knowing I have something to offer the women of the world.  I have a better understanding of the gifts that I have and a way that I can share them.  

So even though my business is in it's infancy,  that I will eventually changes women’s lives with my vision, I know that I am a enormously different woman than I was 4 years ago.  Because 4 years ago I didn’t even have The Dream.

Bingo at the Beach

I’ve been on vacation at the beach for the past 8 days.  The weather has been gorgeous, the temperatures perfect for beach play and porch revelry.  As the breeze whispers over my sun baked skin I wonder why I can’t relax. Why is it that in this most pristine of settings my stomach is all a-flutter. 

Sadly, I realize I have let a work issue glom all over my vacation  

As I ponder, I feel as though I have done everything I can do to ‘fix’ this slightly messy predicament.  As I go through my mental checklist I can say an unequivocal yes to all the ‘Did you...?’ questions that arise in my head. Still perplexed, and quite frankly tired of the butterflies inhabiting my mid-section in this most perfect of settings, I said to my husband ‘I don’t understand. Why can’t I let this go?’  And he replied, in his most Buddha-like fashion ‘It’s because you care so much and you want everyone to be happy.’  

Ahhh..... Bingo!

I think, as women, we are so innately wired to be caregivers that we frequently don’t even recognize we are carrying the burden of other’s happiness.  And, the reality is, as rewarding and fulfilling as it can be, it’s not our job.  

So, with my ah-ha moment came a little peace.  I’m reminding myself (several times today already) that I have done my best.  I have offered what I can with kindness, care and grace.  I can’t fix, or even smooth the way for all the individuals involved.  I can’t create their happiness. I can only do what I can do.  And, that’s enough. 

The Cozy Joy of a Good Rainy Day

There is a nice steady rain outside this morning.  I really do love a good rainy day.  Even if I have a busy schedule it always reminds me to stop, sit quietly (even if only in my head) and think.  I am immediately transported to a comfy chair, surrounded by my husband and boys (when they were little), special snacks on the table in the next room, the smell of them cooking still lingers in the air.   As we hunker  down to pass a day ‘stuck’ inside there’s almost an excitement in the air, an anticipation of good times to come. We will play board games, some wrestling (definitely a special version called Run Into The Pillow), and a favorite movie to top it all off.  I can hear the laughter.  I can taste the cookies.  I am wrapped in love as the comforting feeling of ‘Home’ washes over me.  Yes...I definitely love a good rainy day.

Play: The Rx to Happiness

When did playing become taboo?  That’s what I want to know.  As children, play is an integral part of both physical, mental and social growth.  As we rounded up our neighbors for a good game of Kick the Can we learned to cooperate, to follow rules, to encourage our peers, not to mention the chance to try out your new ‘tennies’ as we ran like greased lightening hoping, for at least for this round, to be ‘safe’.  Play taught us creativity and self confidence, hoola-hooping while singing a made up song about chocolate bars and Cheerios, or rolling down grassy hills for the simple pleasure of getting dizzy.  When did this pure expression of unfettered joy become unacceptable?  And, why?

The Power of the Tiara

A long time ago, my mother told me a story about a young mother named June Barry that used to live behind us.  She was probably in her early 30’s, had a gaggle of very little kids,  and her husband, who was a commander in the military, was gone all the time.

What I See When I Look At You

It’s time.  I have watched from the side lines and waited for it to happen.  I see glimmers now and then, breakthrough moments, like the sunshine peeking through the clouds after a storm.  But, I want more. I want to feel the awakening, like the boom of the grand finale at the fireworks display on the 4th of July.  I want to feel the celebration as if John Phillip Susa is leading an elegantly clad marching band right through main street, trumpets blaring and cymbals crashing.  Just like the brightest beacon on the tallest lighthouse.  I want to see you shine.  Because, it’s time.

The Rude Awakening: June Cleaver’s Retirement Plan

Apparently, I’m a newborn to this whole Women’s Revolution thing. I continue to be totally unprepared for the extent to which I have followed the path of the age old ‘typical female’. I readily admit to being overwhelmed by the situation I currently find myself in. I’m angry with myself, and wish I could place blame on someone else's shoulders.  However, the reality is, I hold all the responsibility for my current mental state. I must own that I alone gave over my power and learn from the experience. 

The Power Woman Years

Rock climbing, snowboarding, long-boarding, road cycling.  It seems like no matter what activity I’m doing the majority of the women around me are at least 30 years younger than I am.  Limber, loose, lean and lithe they scramble, fly, glide and pedal with an ease and energy I can only dream of.  Yet, as I watch them going through the machinations of being 20 something I feel nothing but joy for the life I have grown into as a 54 year old, bodacious woman.

I am a Spirited Woman

I used to think I was just weird, a square peg in a round hole, an anomaly amongst my own gender.  As a young girl I liked to play hard, run fast, jump high and throw a ball as fast as the boys, activities that were frowned upon by the adults of the day.  I was always too loud, too rambunctious, and too outspoken to be successful as a girl.   I tried my hardest to make myself smaller... ‘less than’ what I was, desperately seeking to fit in, to get ‘It’ right. Now, as a ripe, bodacious woman in her mid 50’s I have come to value all those big traits as the essential me.  I let it all hang out!  I’m loud when I want to be, rambunctious when the spirit moves me.  I love hard core sports activities like snowboarding, bouldering, and my newest joy long boarding, all of which attract, almost exclusively, 18 - 30 year old young men, and I'm OK with that.  I AM a Spirited Woman, and I’m damn proud of it.

Outing The Emperor Of Irrational and Bad Behavior

I work with women everyday that believe the lies.  Shoot, I believed the lies.  I believed what I was told as a child, on the playground, in the classroom, at ballet class and at home.  We were told that we were too loud, too sensitive, too dumb, too ugly. We slowly accepted those lies as truths, even though our heart and our eyes told us otherwise.  We lost faith in our own inner compass, buying into this distorted fairytale reality.  Much like the child in the crowd, we could see that the Emperor was naked but believed the crowd that he must be wearing clothes. 

There's No Such Thing as Too Old to Change

I’m not sure I understand the phrase Too Old to Change.  I guess because to me it sounds like defeat.  To me, if I uttered those words, it would mean I was giving up ‘The Possibility Of’.  Which just doesn’t work for me.  I’m a firm believer in possibility.  It is what gives me hope that I can re-create myself at 54, 64 and 74.  That I can change my career and my attitudes.  It is what allows me to participate in activities and adventure sports that usually attract people more than half my age.  ‘The Possibility Of’ is my lifeline to contentment.

The Best Day Ever

Today I am riding on a wave of happiness, support and love.  Much like Sponge Bob Square Pants doing his jig, singing his ‘It’s the Best Day Ever’ song, there’s a giddy-up in my step and a joy in my heart that is beyond description.  Where is all this exuberance coming from?  A weekend filled with our collaborative book launch Fearless Voices: True Stories by Courageous Women.  What a weekend!

Everything I Needed to Know I Learned on Facebook

Facebook really is a fascinating thing.  Much like your daily horoscope, or a taro card reading it seems that some days all the posts, quotes and images you see are bang-on  with where you are.  That’s how it was for me this morning.

As I continue my journey out of the mire of a past that binds, today’s posts and quotes reminded me to believe in myself and my path; to stick to what I know, in my heart, is right for me.  They were the perfect crib notes I needed to keep me on a positively productive path to self realization and contentment.

The Unknowing Enemy Within

It is a day of remembering lessons, and courage.  As I continue to struggle with redefining my relationship with my verbally and emotionally abusive father, to create a space for myself that is safe, attempting to build a new relationship or, at the very least, an understanding between us that is mutually beneficial, I find I continue to be challenged, and am fascinated by where the threat comes from, and the turmoil it presents.

The Courage to Find Your Voice

The first time I Found My Voice was when I was in high school.  Having grown up in a verbally and emotionally abusive household, my opinions were not valued.  My thoughts were not valued.  My voice was shut out.  I remember being frequently frustrated to the point of tears, thinking ‘This isn’t right! My opinion counts.  What I have to say matters.‘  But, it didn’t.

Women By My Side

It seems that all of my life I have been searching for a place to fit in.  To belong.  I’m not saying I haven’t had friends.  I have, and some were really great ones.  But, the need was always bigger than onesy-s and twosy-s.   I realize now, what I wanted was a community. 

The Powerful Story of Pam C.

As I sat in the corner booth at Panera, cold coffee in my cup, emotion washed over me.  I know there is a story in what just happened.  I can feel it.  I start writing, but gobble-de-gook comes out.  I start again...not much better.  So, I ask myself ‘What do I feel?’  Then, I listen for the answer.  It takes a few moments, but it comes to me like the proverbial dove with the olive branch...an offering.  The encounter made me feel grateful, proud and connected.  With this welling of abundance filling my heart I start to write.  I only hope I can do the story justice...