They say we’re wired to look for danger.
This comes from the primitive part of our brain. See danger: Run.
And this world is damn scary.
In Syria and Turkey, over 46,000 people died in the earthquake. And this earthquake devastated an area that was already in humanitarian crisis.
Read MoreSometimes, when I wake up early, I think, “I have some time. I’ll pop on Facebook for a few minutes.”
An hour later, after cycling through that, Instagram, Linked In, and email, I suddenly think, “How did it get to be 7:30?”
And a growing sense of anxiety is gnawing away in my belly.
Read MoreI wish I were brave enough to ________.
How would you complete that sentence?
Where do you wish you had more courage?
A colleague is heading out in a few weeks for a 10-day silent retreat. 10 days of complete, utter silence.
I’m not ready to be with myself in quiet for 10 days. I wish I were brave enough to do that.
Read MoreNature brings us to our edges.
Too much cold, too much sun, too much snow, too much drought, too much rain, too much wind—it can bring any person or community to the edge.
Or planet for that matter.
And nature brings us to edges we probably don’t want to cross.
Four different people told me sometime last week that they had had a terrible day on Monday. I looked up to see if it was a full moon.
It wasn’t.
But then I remembered there was a giant storm that day in the northeast—snow enough to delight the skiers and to irritate everyone else.
I’m a Chrome girl.
Pretty loyal.
I have all the web sites I regularly use bookmarked in neat folders titled by subject matter.
There's Health. Coaching. Writing. Resources. And more.
(What can I say? I’m an organizer.)
But the other day, I was on a flight trying to connect to WiFi—and struggling—so I tried Safari. Safari sometimes works when a website is doing something funky in Chrome.
Read MoreMy theme for 2023: This or better.
The idea is to honor what’s amazing in life so far—what you have today (this)—but at the same time, remain open to what might be to come (better).
I love my this.
What's here now. What I have. Who I am (for the most part).
But I'm open to what might be better.
I bought some funny cocktail napkins at Christmas.
Two women holding martini glasses.
One says, “It’s a little early for a cocktail. When did you start drinking?”
And the other answers, “March 2020.”
Yes, that’s about right.
It’s been a great run. Almost three years.
Read MoreThey are all his fault.
It was Julius Caesar who decided in 46 B.C. that January 1 should be the start of a new year.
The sun was becoming out of alignment with the Roman calendar. After consulting some local, smart mathematicians, Julius changed our days up to be closer to today’s Gregorian calendar. History.com says Caesar named January 1 the start of the new year in honor of “Janus, the Roman god of beginnings, whose two faces allowed him to look back into the past and forward into the future.”
Read MoreI can do it too.
I can live to be 107.
Frances Hesselbein recently passed away at 107. Who does that?
Not only did Frances live to be this age, but she rocked it. She was ranked by Fortune as one of the greatest leaders in the world. She received the Presidential Medal of Freedom in 1998. She led both the Girl Scouts of the USA and helped found the Peter Drucker Foundation for Nonprofit Management.
Read MoreMy mother taught me how to be discerning.
Seriously discerning.
As in, don’t wear pants so tight that they show a panty line. Don’t butter a roll in your hand. Don’t go out of the house without makeup on. Don’t put your elbows on the dinner table.
Read MoreEver try to catch a gerbil running through your house?
Those little suckers are fast.
Melody Beattie tells a story in her book The Language of Letting Go about a time when her son brought a gerbil home. The gerbil happily lived in a comfy cage for a while. But one day, it got out. And it ran free throughout their house for six months! The family tried and tried to catch it, but every time they lunged after it, the gerbil would scramble under a piece of furniture or hide behind a wall.
Read MoreI don’t have to be right.
At least not all the time.
There are some situations where I like to be right. Such as in arguments with my partner or my son.
But other times, I’m open—I love to learn, to be curious, to explore the far reaches of the world that I do not yet understand.
There are a few deal breakers. Conversation stoppers. A handful of areas where I am quite attached to my position: around justice and equity, for example. It’s something I feel in my bones.
Read MoreI always get a little sad in November.
It’s that time of year when everything gets cold.
It gets chilly outside—and sometimes even on the inside. My heart begins quivering a little.
It’s that time of year we started considering hospice for my mom.
I just took a tennis lesson with a pro, Norson, after a year of not seeing him.
When I walked onto the court, he said, “I remember you!"
And, “Here we are, a year later.”
I smiled. I had been at this resort once before, and had liked his style. Norson had helped me with my backhand volley.
Read MoreI have scars on my knees.
From an accident when I was 10 years old.
Remember those days when you left the house in the morning and your parents said, “Come back just before dark?”
One day, I didn’t make it back in time.
And my mother came out to find me in the family car.
I studied piano from age 6 until about 13.
We were all expected to learn piano—and at least one other instrument.
My mother had studied to be an opera singer, and believed everyone should know how to read music. So, we learned.
I recently visited Machu Picchu in Peru.
An ancient city built by the Incas almost 600 years ago. Layered granite with stones weighing up to 50 tons, intricate interlocking mechanisms holding them together. Coursework so perfect that you couldn’t slip a piece of paper between them if you wanted to.
Read MoreWhat did you love to do when you were a kid?
You can probably name something that you once loved to do that you don't do today. What passion did you once have that you don’t pursue any longer?
I think back to sixth grade, Hancock School. My teacher, Mr. Jubett, asked us to write a poem about war. I was very excited about this task—I loved poetry.
Read MoreRedlining.
It means hiking every New Hampshire trail in the Appalachian Mountain Club’s White Mountain Guide.
I have one friend who is attempting to do it.
(Note: It's not me.)
But I started thinking about how cool it would be to redline the planet. To travel the whole of the world, or as much of it as you possibly can.
Read MoreI went on a high ropes course once.
It was part of a leadership program.
The idea was to maneuver our bodies through a bunch of scary elements off the ground in order to build camaraderie and trust.
That's one way to get to know 30 people in a group.
