Another dear friend has been diagnosed with cancer.  It breaks my heart.  Too much of this going on in my life – people being diagnosed (gulp, or worse) with cancer.

I don’t hate much in life.  I hate cancer.

In an email today, my friend wrote, “I read an article about progress with cancer vaccines today and for the first time actually believed that there may be hope to live beyond 18 months. It is still a long shot, but at least gives me the basis for some evidence-based hope.”  I read this and think – Wow! What an optimistic breakthrough! I sure hope and pray and plead that it works.

One of the most important gifts that my friend is giving me right now, today, is to remind me that life is perishable. This is not a dress rehearsal for some other life. He tells me “Live your life – right now. Kiss the people you love, get rid of the stuff that stresses you out, live every single moment. Do it now.”

Just live right now.

So, I think I will, right now.  It is a glorious sunny day outside. The wind is blowing – it is going to be a balmy 48 degrees in the NorthEast.  I think I will go kiss my people, lighten up a bit, and head outside to play.

How do you take your moments for granted?

Back in 2006, I started a personal journey that transformed my life. While I won’t go into all of the details here, it is worth mentioning that it involved a ranch, a herd of horses, and an incredible woman named Jackie.

I was undergoing a significant transition in my life. After 20 years of living in different cities and traveling extensively for work, my husband and I were about to live in the same city – the same house – full-time! I wanted to restructure my consulting business, radically curb my business travel, and figure out how to live with another person. And I wanted support – support to brainstorm ideas, support for getting clear about my own priorities and for making the right choices, and support for remaining whole and authentic to myself in the process. Knowing the power of the support of a coach, I wanted some for me!

I met Jackie Lowe Stevenson.

Jackie runs Spirit of Leadership at Pebble Ledge Ranch outside Cleveland, OH. A down-to-earth and visionary person, Jackie is focused and compassionate, clear and creative, direct and flexible. And she has a herd of horses and a zebra with which she shares her workload!

As it turns out, a herd of horses is a lot like a group of people. They will follow if a leader is worthy of following. They can get excited about the task at hand. They can be stubborn and unwilling to budge if the reason for change is underwhelming. They can be independent and think for themselves, and can respond positively or negatively to ideas.

With Jackie, I worked with the horses – sometimes I became part of the herd, and sometimes I worked one-on-one with them. Not riding the horses – my goal was to lead them (or think I was leading and sometimes finding I had no followers.) This work profoundly impacted me. I learned so much about how I make significant life choices, ways in which I am clear and ways that I am muddy in my communication, how my leadership style can be flexed to match the demands and situation – whether at work, at home or in my community.

I’ve been wanting to bring a group of people together to work with Jackie and the herd, and have made the invitation to women leaders who have experienced Cirque du Sophia. If you are reading this, and have an interest in being part of this exciting work, let me know.

I wonder, what is it that only a herd of horses and a zebra can tell you?

I was sitting at my desk the other day, right leg crossed over left, engrossed in something on the computer.  I must have been there for some time. When I got up, I found my right leg numb from restricted blood flow. Clearly “in my head,” I was completely unaware of what was happening in my body as I was sitting there. And then I got to experience that jarring, tingly, champagne-in-the-leg feeling to get the blood moving again…

How easy it is to live in my head! Maybe it is for you too.  Thinking through, planning how, reasoning why, figuring out, making meaning… Our brains work well at these exercises, and sometimes we get so busy thinking about what is going on, we forget to experience what is going on and discern how we feel about it. I, for one, have to say that I make better choices when I tap into my whole mind.

The whole mind involves three body parts – the brain, the heart, and the gut. When we pay attention, each part gets a vote:
- What do I think about this situation (brain)?
- How do I feel about it (heart)?
- What’s the right thing to do (gut)?

Beyond our brains, the rest of our body contains so much wisdom about who we are, what we stand for, what’s right.  Great leaders learn to tap into their strengths and use their whole minds to make decisions.

As an executive strategy coach, I work with people at the top to accelerate their business goals and imprint their personal style on their business.  These leaders make big choices with big implications.  Our work together often involves learning to tap into the whole mind.  It takes intent, skill building, and practice.

The result?  Natural confidence and the ability to use an integrated process to engage their whole mind to make a course of action that is logical, feels right and is true to the core.

Try it out. Check in with yourself. What does your brain, your heart and your gut tell you right now?

We had a swing set in the backyard when I was a kid.  My best-friend-in-the-whole-wide-world and I would swing as high as we possibly could – so high our feet touched the clouds.  We’d sing “You Are My Sunshine” together at the top of our lungs and then jump off the swing – sailing through the air to land in the grass laughing and gasping for breath. We’d roll onto our bellies in the cool grass and imagine we were giants; each blade of grass a tree; each ant a person or a car.

One hop after another, we’d skip all the way to the schoolyard, and breathlessly lie on our sides to roll down the hill.  We’d race each other over to the playground to fly down the impossibly tall slide.

We’d go on imaginary treks home and
have exotic picnics of peanut butter and
jelly on homemade bread under the
plum tree.

We greeted each new adventure with a
sense of wonder and excitement.  We
lived out loud.

As I sit at my computer right now with a crazy-long to-do list – one that sometimes feels like my reward for crossing something off is to add two more items – I reminisce about that old and wonderful feeling of being carefree, skipping.

Wait, I remember how to skip.

No kidding, I just stood up and skipped around the room a few times – arms swinging, grin coming to my face… My husband just stopped in with a huge smile – “Feel better?”  You know? I do.  I feel a bit lighter; the to-do list feels a titch more manageable.

Give it a try.  I mean it. Right now. Stand up. Give yourself a few skips – let your arms swing; grin a bit.  If you are in a public place, see who smiles at you – invite them to join you.  Heck, why not live out loud just for a minute or two?

What does your skipping bring?

One remarkable woman, named Dawn Hamilton, was in my life for all too brief a period.  Kind, gentle, smart, funny, Dawn taught me so much about living right here and now – an
eye on the future, yes…but to pay attention and to live every single minute.

Dawn lived with cancer – may I say she celebrated life every single day – even as she had cancer.  She believed that just because
she had cancer, did not mean that the cancer had the control. She refused to give it power.

Dawn loved strawberries, and for reasons I don’t fully understand, her doctors advised her to stay away from them while she was in treatment.  I grow organic strawberries in my garden – and for four years she broke the no-strawberry rule for one small moment – one perfect strawberry. Each June I would harvest one beautiful bright red, juicy strawberry at its peak ripeness to present to Dawn. Watching Dawn induldge in that one perfect strawberry was worth a whole year of waiting!  Her face would light up – she would take one bite and close her eyes, chew very slowly and moan a delicious “yummy” noise. (Recall the delighted look on Cindy-Lou Who’s face in that scene in How the Grinch Stole Christmas – and amplify it a bit!) The delight she derived from a few bites of juicy strawberry sweetness!

Today is the one year anniversary of dear Dawn’s death on January 12, 2011.   I feel her happiness and presence and comfort often.  I think of her a lot, as I imagine so many who knew her do.  Our deep love and regard and caring for dear Dawn, is a reminder of how we, no matter what, are all connected.

SO, I declare that starting at midnight tonight - until midnight tomorrow - instead of being sad and somber…I am going to REJOICE in the gift that Dawn Hamilton has brought into my life.  I, for one, am going to sing her praises and tell her story.  I am going to shout with glee that I was one of the privileged ones to have gotten to spend so much time with her while she was with us on this earth.  I am going to laugh and to dance and eat all her favorite foods and CELEBRATE the joy and blessing she brought into my life. Here’s to you, Dawn Hamilton!!

Whether they are on this earth or not, who moves you to celebrate them?

How many times I have said (perhaps you have too,) “If I just had more time…”  and “I could use another day this week…” and “What I could do with a few more hours!”  So often, the tape playing in my head is “Time is perishable – use it or lose it…no gaining it back if wasted.”

Well, I cracked open my calendar the other day and, to my delight, realized that 2012 is a leap year. Then I had an idea! What if I take that “extra” day and treat it as such – like a bonus of more time this year.  What if I let time stand still at 11:59p on February 28 – live that bonus day on February 29 - and then pick up my regular life again at 12:01a on March 1.

And then I started day dreaming….I
could… and then I could…. And then…

Inside I was leaping.  My bonus day turned into a windfall of possibilities!

I have to say, the more I think about it, the more committed I am to my bonus day.  So, if you please, don’t plan on me for anything on February 29^th this year.  I’ll be busy leaping.

What about you?  How will you leap?

I was sorting through a drawer the other night, and came across a piece of paper containing my New Year’s Resolutions from a few years ago. Not sure why it got shoved to the back of the drawer, but there it was.

Reading it, I was brought back to the time when my then-young niece and nephews and I would spend time together on Christmas Eve. Like most kids, they were very excited during the holidays – some years seemingly bouncing off the walls in anticipation. We would sit around the dining table and talk about the current year, and what we were most proud of…and then we’d think of what we wanted to focus on or accomplish in the coming year. While, admittedly, my initial motive was to create a little calmness amidst the chaos, what happened is that we started a little tradition together. Each of us sat in a spell for a few minutes of reflection and contemplation. As Dr. Seuss might say, “We thunk and we thunk until our thunkers were plum-tuckered.”

Then, one at a time, we would share what we were thinking and feeling. What I remember most is the different kind of excitement that took over the room. What thoughtful and insightful young people! We would celebrate each others’ accomplishments and get curious about each others’ plans. Granted sometimes the spell lasted only a few minutes before the giddiness crept back in…but for those few minutes, it was a magical time of sitting still and really paying attention to what was true for each of us – and then for supposing forward what we wanted to create for ourselves.

So, as I move into the place of reflection for myself, this year…and re-read my resolutions from yester-year…I realize how far I have come and at the same time, how relevant they still are for me. Hmmm, perhaps a subtle and important shift, though…they have moved from “resolution” status, as in “I am now going to do these,” to “business as usual” status, as in “I live my life this way.”

For me, I guess that’s part of the power of supposing forward.

What do you discover when you sit still?

Lounging on a glorious beach in the Dominican Republic – the sun shining in my face and illuminating my closed eyelids, the waves crashing so loudly that I could hardly hear my own voice, the sweet smell of jasmine flowers wafting under my nose, we were on day two of a week-long getaway …I started daydreaming. Where would our next vacation be? When should we plan to go? Should we invite others or have another getaway…I was transported to another place and time. Bolting upright, I said to my husband, “Where shall we go for our next vacation?” To which he replied dryly, “Could we please enjoy this vacation before we plan the next one?” “Oh, right,” I said, laying back down.

As we are knee-deep in the holiday season – and Scrooge’s ghosts of Christmas past, present and future broadcast from my television set – I’ve gotten to thinking about, well, thinking styles – specifically how we are hard-wired in a timeframe focus. More importantly for my own self, how my timeframe focus sometimes gets in my way.

A quick primer on timeframe focus. Generally, we are naturally oriented to think in one of three strength-based timeframes:

1. Past-orientation (for example, my friend from high school, who regales us with the stories and events, joys and regrets from all those years ago – as if they were yesterday. You may know past-oriented people who pour over photos of past vacations and past life eras, reliving each of them. In the workplace we find past-oriented people with institutional memory – those who easily recall what’s been tried and what’s been successful (or not successful.))

2. Present-orientation (for example, my husband who lives in each moment – moment after moment – rarely looking back, unburdened by the unknown future, blissfully staying in the here and now. You may know present-oriented people in your organization as those who show up and work on the issue at hand, letting the “future take care of itself.” No doubt, the person who said “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” was a present-oriented person!)

3. Future-oriented (OK, this is me. I’m a future-oriented person. Some close to me might offer that I am an extreme future-oriented person. Not only did I buy my next year’s calendar in August (yes, I like paper), I immediately booked appointments and events into next year’s October! Future-oriented people in the workplace are undaunted by thinking out to next month, next year, two years from now…we say, “sure, things will change, but we need to have some sort of idea where we are headed and what the plan will be once we get there.”)

How exciting and frustrating when we mix it up and have people with different timeframe-wiring collaborating! At the extreme, imagine a past-oriented person and a future-oriented person solving a problem together – or creating a strategy for the future – or coming to consensus about what are the most important elements on which to focus. You get the idea. When we mix it up – without awareness, we operate from our own timeframe and can miss opportunities to collaborate well and appreciate what strengths others bring that can really benefit us.

Which brings me back to my story. What happens for me is that I can get really, really excited about the future and forget to live in the moment (present) and appreciate from whence we’ve come (past). When I have others around me with different time orientations – I have a shot at paying attention to the here and now – and to learning from all that has come before. And they get a little dose of the grand future from me.

So, why not give it a go for yourself. What is your natural timeframe wiring? How does this orientation help you live your life, and where does it get in the way with those around you? How can you appreciate and celebrate the ideas that those with other time orientations bring to you? I’d be interested in hearing.

I am working on the text for a new website that describes the work my good friend and colleague Lisë Stewart and I do with women business owners and CEOs. It is called Cirque du Sophia, and we bring together women at the top in a private setting to work through the challenges of being…well, the woman at the top. No doubt, I’ll blog more about that in later entries. But for now, the point of this entry is a different story.

In 2006 I was engaged in a significant life transition – my husband of 20 years was moving in after living in a different city for all of those years, I was restructuring my business to focus on the aspects that really sang to my heart, and I was struggling a bit with the whole “what’s next” question. At a particularly important point, my coach Jackie quoted the poet Mary Oliver…”Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” Wow. Hit me right between the eyes….YES, what was I going to do with my one wild and precious life. What incredible words – so simple, so powerful. This life is not a dress rehersal for some other life…this is it. Mary Oliver’s words inspired me – uplifted me – made me really think, and create, and begin to get clear.

And then about a year later, I was attending a conference, caught between wanting to learn the material for my own sake and learning the material because I was supposed to, and the presenter quoted Mary Oliver again…“Listen–are you breathing just a little, and calling it a life?” Blam, there she was again in my face. Where else am I going through the motions of life outside my awareness – where has auto-pilot kicked in? Mary Oliver did it again.

Two’s a charm in this case…I decided to learn a bit more about Mary Oliver quotes and poems. So for some time now, I have been reading Mary Oliver’s words. I am drawn to how they make me nod in agreement, how they evoke my curiosity about me, and how, as I use them in my own work, they inspire my clients to think beyond the walls they build for themselves.

So, the point of this story is to bring you to today…when I was working on the website wording. I was researching Mary Oliver quotes and poems and came across a tidy little Good Reads website that has some gems – http://www.goodreads.com/author/quotes/23988.Mary_Oliver

Go take a look, and think through what she has to offer. I will leave you with one to get the juices flowing.

“Instructions for living a life.
Pay attention.
Be astonished.
Tell about it.”

Who gets you thinking?

In public, I was a very shy little girl. With a slight build, long white-blond hair, and very fair skin, I imagined myself as a friendly little ghost who could slip in and out of sight. I could almost float around a room without being seen, and, like a whisper, be present and yet barely heard.

I had an alter-ego at home. I was active and fun, vocal and playful. I remember saying to my mom, “I wish I could be at school like I am at home.”

And then I went to Martha Brown Junior High School and met Miss Smith, our music teacher. From the start, Miss Smith understood me, and little by little when I was in her class, and with her encouragement, I was able to be more of what I considered “the real me.” I stepped up and sang a solo for the Christmas concert. I came out of my shell to help organize the younger kids. I auditioned for and got the lead in the school play (and got to kiss the cutest guy on the planet, on stage, in front of the whole world!)

And something changed, something clicked.  I was different – transformed…hatched from my shell. I could bring more of me out in public.

Miss Smith, I am certain, does not know the impact she has had on my life. I have searched for her for years….and well, there are a lot of women who are or used to be called Miss Smith…so, unfortunately, no luck yet. But I keep looking, and remembering, and mostly, being grateful.

What about you? As you look back at your journey so far, who has had a pivotal role in who you are today? What is your story about them?