From the Deep

Because I believe so strongly in transformation, I want to help you determine the life change you want and create ways to make it happen. To this end, I have three offers:

1. A free thirty-minute Sample Coaching Session. This offer is always available to anyone who has not yet hired me as a coach. In one half-hour, your life can change, and at this time of year, you can use this session to create a New Year’s resolution and a positive step toward fulfilling it.
2. Half-price off a set of Discovery Sessions. This special set of two one-hour coaching sessions helps you understand who you are at your core. From that knowledge base, you can create life goals. In these two sessions, you and I can discern meaningful resolutions for the year and create a plan for fulfilling them. This offer is currently available to anyone who has not yet hired me as a coach.
3. Half-price off a Laser Coaching Session. This offer is available to past and current clients only. In this twenty-minute session, you and I will create a resolution and a plan for fulfilling it, using the self-knowledge you’ve gained in past coaching sessions.

Offers 2 and 3 are available until January 31, 2009. I hope you will take advantage of these offers to consciously choose and create the life you want to live!

Everything is in chaos. My house looks like Santa’s elves threw themselves a little party here after all their hard work: paper strewn everywhere, toys pieces exploded from containers, empty cardboard boxes lying in wait to trip unsuspecting humans.

But I feel chaos within me too. The kids are enjoying Winter Break, so is the hubby. What they don’t realize is that they’ve infiltrated my peaceful schedule, abode, and office. Their vacation mode translates into work for me, even though I’ve put certain practices into place to maintain my sense of self (see this post). I’m happy they’re having time off, but if you see my sanity anywhere, tell it to give me a call. I miss it terribly.

Not only this, but I tend to have existential crises at an alarming rate. I must admit they tend to come at one particular time of the month, but they also come when I experience disruption to my schedule and space, such as now. In these angst-ridden moments, hours, and days I wonder what I’m offering to this world other than taxi, cook, and maid services.

By God’s grace, a friend on Twitter sent me this quote when I was (unbeknownst to her) feeling particularly chaotic:

You must have chaos within you to give birth to a dancing star. –Friedrich Nietzsche.

What a redeeming thought! I’ve struggled with this chaos inside me for so long over a variety of subjects and at various times. I’ve recently let a dream die (see this previous post) and accepted that sometimes we just can’t force our lives to become what they’re not. So then what? What do we do with the resulting pain and chaos?

Apparently, I’m attending the Dancing Star Academy, and on the AP Honors track! I want to be a dancing star, and this goal brings meaning to what often seems pointless. Suddenly, what feels like pain and craziness has transformed into a refining process that I embrace.

Do you feel chaotic within and without? Well, join me in the dance, my friend. Dance on!

It’s official. Time has been called, the death certificate has been issued. I’ve let a dream die.

Actually, the dream had already been brain-dead for awhile. I just pulled the plug. Why not? After expending so much energy keeping the ventilator running–the dream didn’t have the courtesy to die after I’d pulled the feeding tube–I was haggard, tired. Plus, I’d come to acceptance. This dream was never going to live. Even if it did manage to survive off life support, it would be only the shadow of my true dream. Better to let it go peacefully into the night.

And so I mourn. I mourn what once was…what never was. I feel an empty space where the dream used to live. I notice its absence at the dinner table. Sometimes I feel as if it still lives, as if I were to turn my head at the right moment it would be standing there healthy, vital, fulfilled. I could experience what I’ve always believed would happen. Then I realize it was only the wind in the trees taunting me, and I feel the loss again.

Yet I’m no longer chained to the bedside of a dream that will never live. I don’t have to spend my time in a stuffy hospital room, hoping. I can walk into the light of day, feel the sun on my face and the breeze on my cheek. And while I sense the space the dream has left in my heart, I feel lighter. I might even have a bounce in my step someday. I might walk around the path’s bend and come face to face with a new dream that may someday become reality.

That could not happen if I hadn’t let the dream die. Only in admitting the death can I live. Only in realizing the truth can I be free.

Yesterday I blogged about how, while the kids are out of school for Winter Break, I’m choosing to keep two practices everyday that will keep me sane and happy this holiday season: movement and soaking. Here are some other ideas that may speak to your soul or may spark other ideas for practices you’d like to adopt over the next couple weeks:

1. Lighting a candle and leaving it lit throughout the day (whenever you’re at home);
2. Listening to music that feeds your soul;
3. Carving out a half-hour every day for a cup of tea and time to read;
4. Taking a walk by yourself;
5. Watching a show every night that makes you laugh;
6. Praying;
7. Journaling;
8. Doing something to express your creativity such as drawing, playing an instrument, writing…;
9. Reading through the Christmas story a bit at a time;
10. Taking a bath;
11. Meditating;
12. Connecting with a friend;
13. Piecing together a puzzle for fifteen minutes;
14. Exchanging back rubs with your spouse; and/or
15. Taking a nap.

Today was my children’s last day of school for 2008. Yay! We’re on Winter Break!

Ack! We’re on Winter Break! Seventeen days with two children in tow hyped up on sugar, engaging in Christmas festivities, lacking their usual structure, with abundant free time on their hands. Seventeen days in which I don’t have my usual structure and space to pursue what energizes me, to accomplish goals, and to converse uninterrupted with other grown-ups.

On the one hand, I’m looking forward to time with my kids. I really enjoy their energy, creativity, laughter, and play. On the other hand, I know that so much time together can often result in emotional stress that creates havoc at holiday time.

How am I going to handle it? I’m going to practice.

Actually, I’m going to engage in two specific practices that help me stay grounded and connected to my joy. The first is movement. I’m a fidgeter. If I don’t get enough movement, I feel as if I have extra energy zinging inside my body desperately seeking an outlet, and it eventually leads to frustration. Mitigating that frustration requires extra energy, creating a hazardous cycle until I blow up. I’d rather expend energy through movement I love–dancing, walking, and playing outside or at the gym with the kids–and avoid the emotional outbreak that comes when I don’t.

The second practice I’m committing to is soaking. This discipline involves laying or sitting still in God’s presence, focusing on Him, and allowing Him to show up however He wants. I’m finding that this practice grounds me, centers me in God and in who He created me to be so that I can hear His voice more clearly and act more in line with His will. It feeds my soul.

Amid all the holiday hubbub, I will do each of these two practices everyday. All my other customary pursuits may shift around my children, but these two activities will happen as preventative measures–preventing me from losing myself then from losing it with the kids.

Are your kids on Winter Break? What practices might you commit to so you’ll stay connected to yourself and your joy at this holiday time? 

As I type, my daughter sits at the other computer working on a book report that’s due tomorrow. My daughter was home ill when the teacher assigned this project (a month ago), and since the teacher didn’t give the assignment to my daughter when she returned to school, we didn’t know about it until this afternoon. And this isn’t your run-of-the-mill book report. No, this is a “cereal box” book report. Each side of the box covers a different part of the book (summary, setting, characters–you get the idea), which means wrapping the box completely in text-covered paper, including the inside (she had to cut the front of the box so it opens like a book). As if I didn’t have enough wrapping to do at this time of year! (Thank God I had an empty cereal box in my recycling bin!)

This last-minute assignment produced a strong emotional reaction in me, and somewhat feverish activity for me and my daughter. She’s in second grade and needs support to complete this assignment. I’m wondering why I’m experiencing such a strong response. What’s going on within me? We could totally blow off this assignment if we wanted. She’s in second grade; her score on this project won’t make or break her chances for acceptance into Harvard. We could even turn it in late–she’d have a lower score, but perhaps we wouldn’t feel as harried doing it. So what’s the deal?

On one hand, I feel this situation is unfair. The teacher didn’t communicate, so we’re thrown into chaos. When a child is sick, s/he already has so much catching up to do that the teacher should make it as easy as possible by actually giving the child the work s/he missed (this wasn’t the only assignment we struggled to get either).

But even deeper, what’s really going on with me? Am I so into my child’s work as a reflection of myself? I thought I was over that. I really tried to never feel that way in the first place. But here I am. If I don’t get my daughter to do this project and do it well, I will feel like I failed somehow. I already feel badly that I didn’t see the assignment was posted on the school website, even though I’d looked. I didn’t cull through the scads of website postings to find this one big assignment written in small print (which, as we bloggers know, if you want people to pay attention to it on the web, you really ought to put it in bold, bullets, caps, or something else to make it scream at the reader). I feel like I’ve failed. I haven’t done my homework, and now my daughter is having to cram on hers.

I realize now that instead of doing homework, I need to do some heartwork. I want to let go. I want to teach my children the deeper lessons of learning from mistakes and not beating ourselves up for missing something. Of giving ourselves grace. Of doing our best among difficult odds, and accepting the results with joy. And of knowing that in the big scheme of things even big assignments don’t matter all that much. What’s really important is that we learn the important life lessons along the way.

The question I’ve been asking myself lately is “Where’s the joy?” I pay attention to my heart, and when the answer comes from deep within, I follow it. Lately I’ve found joy bringing me to online forums to connect with people, to Panera to meet a new friend and forge a strategic alliance, onto stages to perform drama and music, to the occupational therapist to learn more about my children’s needs and how to treat them. Joy has brought me to the couch with a blanket and a good book. I’ve followed joy to watch the stunning sunsets over the snowy Rocky Mountains. Joy has brought me to this blank blog post form, and given me words to fill it.

Where does joy want to bring you? Will you follow?

I have to admit something that may seem anathema to being a life coach: I haven’t made a New Year’s resolution in years. In fact, the last resolution I ever made was this one: “I resolve not to make any New Year’s resolutions.” That has been the one resolution I’ve made for perhaps the past twenty years, and it’s probably the only resolution I’ve ever kept.

Which is the reason I don’t like resolutions: I don’t keep them. Who does? The hour strikes midnight, a brand new year begins, and we face it with all the optimism of Pollyanna. This year we’re going to get it right. We’re going to lose those twenty pesky pounds. We’re going to get out of debt. We’re going to declutter and get organized. But do we? No.

Why not? Why do we fail so miserably at keeping our promises to ourselves? After all, we want good things, don’t we? Losing weight would help us be healthier. Getting out of debt would give us more financial resources for ourselves. So why are gyms full during the first two weeks of the year but by the third they’re back to normal?

I think we fail to fulfill our resolutions for two reasons. First, we make resolutions based on what we’re going to get rid of rather than what we’re moving toward. They’re negative. We’re going to lose weight, lose debt, lose disorganization. To fulfill these resolutions, we encounter what we don’t like about ourselves. We feel shame about the state we’ve allowed ourselves to get into. And that yucky feeling is like a punishment. In simple behavioral psychology terms, we face a negative consequence every time we try to fulfill our resolution: we connect with what we like least about ourselves. No wonder we slowly, almost imperceptibly, let our resolutions slip away until the next new year rolls around. Then we make the same resolution and begin the cycle again.

A second reason we often fail to fulfill our resolutions is that we make them based on external input. We want to lose twenty pounds because our society is obsessed with thinness, and we want to be culturally acceptable. We want to get out of debt because we feel like slackers if we’re in it. We want to become organized and without clutter so we can invite people over and have them see how we have it all together. But we haven’t quite owned these resolutions within us. They don’t come from our internal value system. They come from what we perceive society wants from us, and something within us rebels against that.

As a life coach, I’m about life transformation. I want people to live in the bigger story they’re meant to live, to play the bigger game. For that to happen, they need to make choices to change their lives. When a client comes to me, he’s paying me to help him become unstuck and shift into a different, more fulfilled, more balanced, and more joyful life. This requires change, sometimes very difficult change, and my clients make these adjustments and live their bigger lives. As a coach, I know how to encourage transformation in others. So if you’re hoping for something different for yourself in the coming year, here are some steps you can take to make more effective resolutions, ones that you’ll keep:

1. Choose a positive resolution. Choose something you’re moving toward instead of making a negative resolution to stop doing something. Instead of saying you’re going to lose twenty pounds, perhaps make a goal to exercise regularly and eat more healthfully. In this way, you’re choosing to move toward your more creative, resourceful, and whole self instead of shunning what you perceive as your deficiencies.
2. Choose resolutions in line with your values. As I described in a previous post, values are what make us each uniquely ourselves, what make us come alive. When we choose to make resolutions or set goals from our values (as opposed to the external pressures of society), we feel more alive in the pursuit of them, and that encourages us to continue the pursuit. So, for example, if we want to become more healthy, and we have a high value for the outdoors, we’ll naturally feel more inclined to fulfill our resolution for greater health by tweaking it to include outdoor activity. (To learn more about values, read this post: “Having a ‘Harried’ Christmas? Make it a Merry Christmas! Here’s How!” )
3. Make SMART goals. SMART goals are specific, measurable, accountable, realistic, and time-specific. If you want to choose a more healthy lifestyle, put some parameters around it to bring it to fruition. A SMART goal might be that you are going to walk outdoors five days a week for thirty minutes each day with a partner or that you’re going to eat five fruits or vegetables everyday.
4. Create an accountability structure. We’re not meant to do life alone. We need each other. And when we want to live bigger lives we need people on our side to reflect to us that these changes are worth making, that we can achieve them, and that someone witnesses our attempts, struggles, and triumphs. Accountability shouldn’t be something we dread. Accountability can offer the relief of letting someone else in, whether a friend, relative, or life coach, to help us become the creative, resourceful, and whole people we were originally designed to be. Choose someone who will extend you grace as you move toward your goals. Sometimes we don’t do what we said we were going to do, and instead of that being a source of shame, it’s an opportunity to be curious about it and to learn from it.

Last week I went off the radar, and when I returned, the game had changed. I recognized my place in the Bigger Story. I received greater clarity about what I’m doing and who I’m being, and that clarity has been confirmed over and over in the days since. So I feel the need to make a declaration: I’m all about transformation. When I talk with people, parent my kids, coach my clients, I want to be a conduit for meaningful, lasting life change.

If you’ve looked at my website, followed my Twitter feed, or read this blog, you know that for the past year I’ve focused my work on moms of gifted children. I still consider this a focus of my work. In fact, I truly want moms of gifted children to experience life change. I know how hard it is to spill yourself out for these youngsters who, delightful as they are, require extra vigilance and energy. If you mother gifted children, here’s what I long for you: that you would know yourself at your deepest core and create your life–your mothering and beyond–from that place.

And that’s what I want for every person I meet. I am now opening my arms and my coaching practice wide for whomever wants to taste life deeply. I’ve named my coaching business Deep Waters Coaching and Communications after this proverb: The purposes of a person’s heart are deep waters, but someone of understanding can draw them out (Proverbs 20:5, my paraphrase). As a coach, I have skills to help people discover the purposes swimming deep within themselves. I know how to tell them where to look. And I love to help people look there and to witness their journey as they begin to recognize themselves in the reflection of those deep waters.

I do not do this work alone. I follow God’s leadership. I allow His Wind to blow where it may, and to blow me along with it. It’s who I am and what I do.

And that’s my declaration. I don’t know where this will take me, but I’m looking forward to the journey!

You have a child who concocts stories with broadband speed, asks a never-ending stream of questions, knows information after her first exposure to it, and can engage adults’ attention like few children you’ve ever seen. Is she gifted? And if she is, how do you parent her?

To find answers to these questions, I recommend reading Raising a Gifted Child: A Parenting Success Handbook by Carol Fertig (2009; Waco, TX: Prufrock Press Inc.). This highly readable book gives parents information about giftedness that helps them determine whether to pursue testing and educational changes. It also outlines parental responsibilities in raising gifted children, expresses the importance of creativity–which is huge in gifted children–covers specific subjects in which kids might possess exceptional abilities, and describes some uniques groups of gifted kids and their specific needs. Along the way, Fertig offers many resources, both print and online, for parents to access in determining their children’s giftedness and in meeting their needs.

What I most appreciated about Fertig’s book, however, was her tone. When wondering whether a child is gifted and how to help our children make the most of their innate abilities, we moms and dads of gifted kids often switch into hyper-parenting mode. We do what we can to create the best educational experience for our children, often amid an educational context that doesn’t understand a gifted child’s needs. We strive to set the stage for our children to meet their full potential. While affirming these desires and efforts, Fertig communicates the necessity of relaxing a bit, of allowing our children to unfold in their way and time, and of accepting their challenges as growth opportunities.

I highly recommend Raising a Gifted Child. If you suspect your child is gifted, you will gain much information and encouragement for the discovery journey ahead of you. And if you already know you have a gifted child, this book is, at the least, required for your resource shelf and, at the most, required reading. My copy is already underlined and dog-eared, and I know I will refer to it often in the coming years as my children continue to grow and develop into the amazing people they are destined to become.