It’s been quite a week here on Prince Edward Island in Canada. After many weeks of frigid temperatures, for this past week, I’ve been enjoying milder temperatures (with several days warmer than freezing), and with ample sunlight and blue sky on several days too. Though I know it’s still winter, and we’ve got much more snow and freezing temperatures to come, I can’t help but feel that this bit of a thaw is a touch of spring, and a gentle reminder from Mother Nature to keep my chin up.
“Look!” the birds seem to say as they swim in whatever puddles they can find. “Spring is coming! You’ve made it this far! Keep going!”
Photo of chickadee on a spring branch by Nikola Tomašić
And this feeling, in turn, I’m finding reflected in my work and life. After months of liminality, finding it challenging to maintain momentum when I’m still in the “messy middle” of sorting out many projects and next business steps, this week I’ve had several encouraging signs of progress.
On Monday, I gave my first talk of the year to a classroom of women transitioning into (or back into) the workforce. The co-teacher of the class was extremely encouraging to me, and she let me know that the women told her they could have kept listening to me all day! It’s always a beautiful day when you get to support people and inspire them to create a life they love.
Today, I spoke with an editor and publisher for the first time about my memoir, which is mostly written but has sat on a shelf for quite a while as other priorities took the forefront. (You can join the email list for it here.) They were so encouraging, and again, it felt like the right time and the message I needed to hear. Such a gift.
Other highlights included a promising job interview, voice lessons with new and returning students, and great feedback from a client on a project.
At the same time I’m seeing this bit of encouragement from the universe, showing me signs that I’m on the right path for me and it will keep getting better, I’m looking for signs of the same outside of myself.
I’m encouraged when I see the ways Canadians are banding together, supporting local when they can. I’m also encouraged that while the vast majority of Republicans are still bowing down to the self-named king, I’m seeing more and more signs of ways that people are stepping up, fighting back, and using their power where they can.
We don’t have to wait and watch our rights be taken away. Though for some, taking action means protecting yourself, for many, we can call, we can march, we can donate, and we can fight back, in whatever creative ways we are called to do so.
I know things are tough right now for so many. Where are you finding hope in challenging times?
P.S. If you’re finding yourself struggling with motivation right now, I hear you. Here’s an article I wrote on the topic a few months back. Please offer yourself, and others, grace, as you can. And if you’d like to learn more about what’s keeping you from achieving all that’s possible for you, experiencing a life with more ease and joy, sign up for a Saboteur Assessment.
I recently read the beautiful book The Serviceberry, and in it, author Robin Wall Kimmerer (perhaps you were also enthralled by her book Braiding Sweetgrass?) says “I’ve always believed that those who have more joy win”.
Photo of Black caregiver and child, feeling joy, by Sasha Kim
This reminded me of the many quotes and talks and books I’ve been encountering from Black female (some also 2SLGBTQIA+) writers, sharing the idea of rest or even joy as resistance. I’ll confess I haven’t given bell hooks their due yet (I KNOW, I have work to do), but contemporary writers and speakers usually attribute this line of thought, in part, to bell hooks.
I’m writing this after spending an exhausting hour and a half processing the news, reaching out to my reps, and posting to Facebook, where I am finding it increasingly challenging to spend any time without feeling miserable. I think it’s partly the addictive algorithm, partly the way we’ve gone from seeing friends’ posts to seeing advertisements, and partly that the news is just so abysmal and divisive right now.
After all, people are dying, people are being deported, culture is being canceled. In addition to executive orders doing horrendous things, including consolidating power to a level never before seen and clearly setting us up for a dictatorship and lying to the world about Ukraine and their president, I read a post from a trans man and pastor (and friend of a friend) who, after having a passport affirming his male gender identity for the past ten years, renewed his passport only to see himself listed as female (“F”) on the new passport. Other posts are showing the dichotomies, where some nonprofits are no longer providing gender-affirming care and others (as well as the Army) are proceeding as usual, ignoring the orders from above.
So yes, I’m fighting. I hope you’re doing what you can to also support human rights, wherever you are.
But I want to also encourage you to follow Robin’s suggestion. Find more joy. Explore joy. Joy is rebellion, resistance, and revolution!
We resist when we enjoy a movie or a dinner or a walk with our same-sex partner.
We resist when we savor a cup of coffee or tea while looking at a beautiful view.
We resist when we hug, or dance, or laugh.
We may be in extremely challenging times, but if you’re able to stop and read this, I’ll bet you’re also able to find joy. Smell a candle. Hold someone’s hand. Make eye contact with a stranger. Savor a delicious food.
One benefit of making time for joy, in addition to resisting the misery that some out of touch billionaires would want for us, is that feeling joy is also grounding. All of these exercises I mentioned, when entered into with an intention of connection, wholeness, or just full presence, help to ground us in the here and now.
And when we keep ourselves regulated and ground ourselves in the present, we are healing ourselves, and helping ourselves to show up in the best ways we can for ourselves, for our families, for our communities, and for the world.
Monday I offer my Mental Fitness for Musicians class again. It’s absolutely a joy to be able to help musicians to recognize the sabotaging thoughts that get in the way, both in making music and in life and career as a musician more generally, and learn tools to work through the fear, the anxiety, and become more effective musicians, and more JOYFUL musicians, as a result.
If you know a musician who’d benefit, or you’re one yourself, I’d love to see you there.
But wherever you are, and whatever you do, I want to encourage you to be present to joy, and cultivate it. Even when the world collapses around us. If you’re finding joy, you’re winning.
In the world we’re living in, with politics and climate change and humanitarian crises filling our brains and our neighborhoods and our news feeds, I could not be more grateful to be nearly three years into my mental fitness training. What began as a curiosity after six months of intense work to reign in my growing anxiety turned out to be the missing tool in my client work and in my own mental health, and I couldn’t be more thankful for it – especially right now. Today I’d like to share how I found mental fitness and the difference it’s made in my life.
Photo of a person with a cloth headband and simple dress with their back turned to the camera, looking out at a beautiful nature scene by Anastasia Shuraeva
Until my mid-thirties, I didn’t believe I suffered from anxiety. While I was diagnosed with and treated for “depression” as a busy early teen who’d started falling asleep in her classes and after school (in part due to the side effects from my allergy medication), I did talk therapy for a year and was told I was fine, basically, and the sessions stopped, because I was no longer falling asleep all the time and seemed functional and able to handle my activities again.
My life up until that point involved a major identification with the word “busy”. When asked how I was doing, I said I was busy. I was in multiple theater productions (my record was three at a time), taking piano lessons, starting clubs and singing in choirs. I stopped dance lessons mid-way through eighth grade as my theater passion took over (and I’d recently given up dance competitions, which is another article unto itself), but I had added voice lessons into the mix by high school and was also required to participate in three sports or athletic programs each year at the private day school I attended.
So yes. I was busy. And this identification with the word “busy” continued through high school, into college, and into my twenties, where any feelings I had of overwhelm or extra adrenaline or a racing heart etc. were labeled as “busy” at best and otherwise ignored. And when my body started showing signs of chronic health conditions, I pursued diagnoses for physical conditions without recognizing that there might be mental conditions worth exploring too.
It wasn’t until I figured out how to support my husband’s dream (traveling as a touring musician) by having the two of us buy a used RV and travel the United States that things started to shift. I relied on adrenaline and discipline and problem-solving to get through the transition, even in the face of my newer symptoms of fatigue, but by the time we’d been on the road for six months or so, things began to shift. Without a theater company to run, with minimal lessons to teach and nowhere to physically be (unless we wanted to), my mind began to open up, and I found myself asking questions I hadn’t really delved into deeply and from a wise state of mind before.
The questions looked something like these:
Why have I been so successful as a creative, and yet I’ve never earned more than $50,000 in a year?
What are my beliefs around money? Around success?
Where do I want to be in ten years? In twenty?
Who am I if I’m living a simpler life?
What does community mean to me?
Who are really my friends? Who are the friends who believe in me, even when I don’t have anything to offer them but my friendship?
As I began pursuing personal development for the first time, through programs and books and podcasts and an accountability group, I also was living with my husband in very close quarters on a daily basis for the first time. As he worked through his own mental health challenges, I started to see signs that I may also be living with anxiety for the first time. I began occasionally getting panic attacks – and they’d be triggered by my husband’s own struggles to regulate. I began to see with clarity my own signs of codependency and my struggles to maintain boundaries and protect myself from taking on other people’s emotions.
In the midst of these studies, COVID hit, and as Ross and I were prepping for a move to Canada in light of the uncertain political situation and fears that we wouldn’t be able to maintain a unique lifestyle that we loved if we lost our rights to affordable health care and control of our own bodies, we learned to work through new fears and anxieties for the future.
My body and mind were incredible to me during this time. I was working more hours than ever in my online businesses at the same time that I was overseeing a move to Canada, which felt like a fulltime job in itself.
Is it any wonder that by the time we got settled into our new Canada apartment, maybe two months in, my anxiety kicked into overdrive?
I finally felt safe, settled, and like I could relax. We’d gotten what we’d worked so hard for. We’d even crossed the border when such travel was still very restricted, especially on Prince Edward Island. And with this sense of safety and calm, my body said, ‘FINALLY!”. My anxiety rose to the top and spilled out all over the place. It was something like the way athletes get sick after the big competition or students and teachers get sick on vacation.
I was having several anxiety attacks a week. Driving became especially triggering. It was when I noticed it was starting to get in the way of my work that I sought professional help. I went to a mental health clinic and got on the list to see a psychologist. I signed up for Betterhelp to have a more affordable option than the going rate, and I went through one mediocre therapist on that platform before finding someone who had a lot to offer me. After several months on the wait list, I saw an in-person psychologist on PEI’s dime, who unfortunately didn’t seem capable of helping someone as high-performing as me. (She didn’t know what to do with me. Sound familiar to anyone else?) I completed a local anti-anxiety program called ICAN, which gave me excellent practice with anti-anxiety tools like body scans, 5 4 3 2 1, breaking anxiety-producing tasks into smaller pieces and many more.
In other words, I had a ton of support, which I’m grateful for. And I am sure it all helped, especially the anti-anxiety program, to get me through the worst of it. As I did the work, I started to observe myself going weeks and eventually even months between panic attacks.
And then, thanks to a fellow life coach, I discovered Positive Intelligence.
I took advantage of a free program for active coaches. Seven or so weeks of training in mental fitness, led by coach Shirzad Chamine and based on the most cutting edge science and research. We were required to maintain an accountability group and do daily check-ins with each other as part of the process, in addition to weekly group meetings over Zoom.
I entered the program skeptical that anything free could be that transformative. But I was soon a convert. My husband noticed differences in me too. When it ended, I knew I was signing up for further study and to begin training so I could bring mental fitness into my coaching practice.
There’s a lot about Positive Intelligence that resembles the personality study I’d been doing using the Enneagram since 2019. But there are a lot of distinctions too. While my Enneagram work had shown a brilliant light on where I was trapped in patterns of behavior, I hadn’t made significant progress in improving that behavior and growing toward a healthier way of being. (I had, however, developed a lot of compassion and understanding of how to be in better relationship with my family and friends and my husband – some major wins!)
With my new mental fitness tools and a daily commitment to practicing them (thanks in part to the genius Positive Intelligence app included in my study), things started to improve for me really quickly.
I became calmer in the face of stress. I became less likely to get triggered by my husband or a family member or a member of my chorus. I became better able to tap into a wiser, bird’s eye view perspective of my life. I became happier, more easygoing, and a more effective coach, partner, friend and family member.
And over and over again, my clients who chose to study mental fitness with me also were reaping the benefits. They became less reactive, more able to handle grief, better able to get things done (from creating and living by a budget to making phone calls or regulating their own anger and anxiety).
For me, and for so many in my work, mental fitness has been the missing piece. Instead of continually watching themselves repeating patterns but struggling to break free of them, they were able to be more effective and efficient, spending more time in that wiser part of their brain and quieting the negative and sabotaging parts of it. They were happier. And they got to benefit from a more healthy and regulated coach better able to guide them.
With hindsight, I can see that the big piece missing in my own Enneagram studies in the first several years was a commitment to a contemplative practice. At most, I’d dabbled in meditation, and while I went through periods where I got out in nature daily while we were RVing (often for hours at a time), I didn’t recognize it for the meditation that it was, or that it could have been, if I’d taken the podcast out of my ears and really tuned in to my surroundings. Until I joined Enneagram trainings and workshops (rather than simply reading books or listening to podcasts), I wasn’t clear on how essential it is to pair Enneagram work with meditation and other tools. By the time I began doing that that, thankfully, I’d incorporated Positive Intelligence into my life. All of sudden, I was growing mental muscles. My mental fitness and Enneagram work began to support each other.
I remember a few years back, sharing with delight an incident from earlier in the week with my first Enneagram cohort.
At the time, I had a plastic bin next to my bed, and on it, I had a humidifier. I also had a variety of different possessions, including a book, as I was using the bin as a night stand. On this particular evening, I’d fallen asleep and reached over to grab something, and I hit water. Everywhere. Everything on the stand was soaked.
Prior to my Enneagram or mental fitness studies, I would have been hit with a wave of self-revulsion for having made this mistake. My inner critic would have kicked into high gear. And then I would have been angry, jumping into action without stopping to think and cleaning all of it up myself. If at some point down the line I had thought to ask my husband (who was still wide awake) for help, I would have done so in an angry, frustrated state. When met with that heightened, angry and panicked state, my husband would have responded with his own saboteurs, and I know from past experiences this would have led to us both triggering each other and lengthening the process until we could each calm down, forgive as needed, and come to bed and fall asleep.
Instead, I felt the water, realized I was very close to sleep and didn’t want to wake up and ruin that, so I called out to my husband.
“Ross, can you help me with something?” I calmly asked. He came in, happy to assist, be helpful, and answer my calm request. I explained the situation and asked if he could help me since I was almost asleep. He agreed. Given that he struggles in those moments to know what to do, I then began making requests. “Can you go get a towel please?” “Can you put this over there?” I talked him through it, but did so calmly, lying in bed, and trusting him to figure out details of where to hang towels or set items to try.
And when all that was done, I simply rolled over and went back to sleep.
Nowadays, even in the face of this wild rollercoaster of a world, I am extremely grateful. For calm. For days where I am seldom, if ever, thrown off. Even in the face of hard things, it’s the rare day when I have to work hard to stay regulated. I’m able to preemptively do my mental fitness exercises long before a panic attack. And I am healthier, kinder, and more whole in my responses to the world.
Do you have a mental fitness practice? Want to learn more about the saboteurs that are keeping you from living your best life, day in and day out? Imagine what’s possible for you in your relationships, your career, and across your life with this change! It’s never too late to find more joy in your life.
Photo by Jeff Stapleton is a person holding a cardboard sign reading “WHAT NOW?”
We’re living in uncertain times, friends. The news is fast and furious and can change from moment to moment and day to day. So today, I wanted to explore what we can learn from this uncertainty.
In a recent Betterhelp article, they define liminal space as “ a transitional or in-between area that evokes feelings of ambiguity and unease, often occurring during times of change.”
Liminal space is also much of the subject in Suzanne Stabile’s The Journey Toward Wholeness, a book I’ve read several times and that we’re currently studying in one of my Enneagram groups.
I think of liminal space as the in-between, where it feels like nothing is certain. You know where you’ve been, but it’s not where you are now, and it’s not where you’re headed….well, you may not even know where you’re headed. Liminal space can invite you to question everything, including your need to question entirely.
If you’ve graduated from school but haven’t found a job, you’re in liminal space. If you’re in a relationship with someone that doesn’t have a name yet, you’re in liminal space. If you’re grieving for a loved one who is ill but hasn’t died yet, you’re in liminal space. If you’re building a business or working on a project and a lot of the details are fuzzy and you’re not sure where exactly you’re going to wind up, you’re in liminal space.
The uncertainty of the political situation (and thus, the living conditions of the people there) in the United States is undoubtedly liminal space. Even if we have hunches on what will unfold in the weeks and months and years to come, the vast majority of us may be feeling uncertain: uncertain of the time table, uncertain of the outcome, and perhaps uncertain of our role to play or even what’s to become of us.
Let’s acknowledge that that is a lot to carry. Liminal space isn’t easy. Richard Rohr has also said he believes it is the most teachable space. We have so much to learn in uncertain times, if we choose to be open to that learning.
If you’re feeling the “ambiguity and unease” of liminal space, I’m so sorry. It’s really hard. I hear you. I hope you have people you trust and places to find comfort during these challenging times. I wish I had all the answers and enough spaces to keep everyone safe from the dangers around us right now.
I do a lot of offering practices here, and I certainly could do that today. If that’s what you need, I’ll remind you to take time for self-care, whether that means social media breaks, calling your reps, finding joy, or just taking a shower or having a nourishing meal.
But today, I’ll focus on some lessons that uncertainty is teaching me right now, or at least trying to teach me, if I choose to listen.
I can’t control everything. In fact, most of it all is out of my control. I might as well let go and learn to surf the waves, because the illusion of control is on full display right now.
I don’t know the time table. Of my business, of my life, even of the Trump administration. So that offers me opportunities to prioritize what matters most right now and let go of my expectations.
Letting go of expectations is a huge lesson I continue to work on. Uncertainty shows me that in spades.
I’m not the only one feeling uncertain. I’m a part of a much larger community. And finding ways for that community to come together, and embracing those opportunities, is an incredible opportunity. What’s possible, if we get through this?
In the midst of uncertainty, I see even more, day to day, just how important relishing the present moment is. Enjoy that coffee. Listen to your favorite song. Dance, whether people are watching or not. Enjoy the sunshine through the window or on your face. Nothing is promised.
While so much is uncertain, the things that aren’t can stand in stark relief to the uncertainty. Love and relationships mean more somehow when the world is in turmoil around us.
Gratitude is an ever-important practice to me in the face of uncertainty.
If this resonates, I want to encourage you to consider your own experiences right now. What is uncertainty teaching you?
And if you’d like a safe space for asking these questions and supporting each other and our growth in times of uncertainty, I’d love for you to join my next Enneagram group. Reach out to me to sign up, or check out my next Enneagram introduction to learn more about the Enneagram and get a sense of whether you’d like to work with me.
Crafting The Life You Want: A Practice in Living 