It can be really tough, even on the best of days, to pause and take a step back. Such a high percentage of our actions are done on auto-pilot: we’re not even stopping to think before we do them. It’s the way we always did them. The action precedes the thought.
Unfortunately this can also get in the way when we’re confronted by people whose views are different from ours, or whose words or actions are triggering us. We’re each bringing our own baggage to the table. We’ve got our own instincts, our own habitual patterns, and our own biases based on our own past experiences.
Photo of a person with dark long hair, in the grass facing the mountains with their back to us, by Badri Rai from Pexels
People often ask me how I can stay connected to people whose beliefs are so different from mine. It’s honestly a skill I’ve been honing since I was a kid. I think there are a few reasons it comes so easily to me:
I am the oldest child in a family of six. I learned to get along and go with the flow rather than fight the more aggressive folks in my family.
I’ve always been genuinely curious about people and why they do what they do. This curiosity means that rather than focus on the hurt someone is doing, I can invest some of my time and energy into curiosity about how it came to be that way.
I genuinely believe we all have goodness in us – and if I can’t find it, I have compassion for what may have happened to them along the way. (I have always had empathy, but my compassion has gone through the ROOF since beginning my mental fitness and Enneagram studies.)
I have always treasured close, deep 1:1 connections with people, and some of the best times in my life have been sharing those types of conversations. If a past friend, perhaps someone I’ve had a great conversation, or many, with in the past, is doing things that I don’t understand, I tend to assume the best of them, and again, get curious about how they got to be here.
I’m aware that if I can engage with someone whose opinion I don’t agree with by striving to listen and find common ground, it’s the best hope I have for potentially changing their mind down the line. If I stop speaking to them, I’ve lost my chance for them to recognize someone’s humanity or the fallacy of something they’ve held to be true.
When someone approaches me, full of anger or fear, shame or anxiety, I can recognize their saboteurs coming out to play. If I’m able to keep myself grounded and in a healthy mind state, instead of meeting their saboteurs with my own saboteurs (of judgment, of fear, of anger etc.), I can instead offer them an ear, or get curious, or take action to protect myself or others.
The truth is, because I am well-practiced at letting my sage mind run the show, instead of my saboteurs, I am much less likely to respond in my own patterns. I’m more able to find a win-win-win for everyone. I’m more likely to have a positive view of the encounter.
For instance, I could get upset if someone confronts me denying the harm a politician is doing and trying to do. OR, instead of getting upset, I could ask them clarifying questions, getting very curious about the fear hidden behind their comment.
Maybe if I was able to ask them a few questions, I’d learn that we agree on 90% of an issue, or even 50% of an issue, when I previously thought we were on opposite ends. Maybe I’d learn that I needed to do a little more research on a particular topic so that I’d be able to speak to it more articulately next time. Or maybe I could share a personal anecdote that would humanize the people we were talking about.
Whatever language you use to describe it, our saboteurs are real. Your saboteurs could be hyper-rational, or hyper-achievers, or perfectionists, or getting you caught in anxiety spirals. We all have strengths that served us at one point in time, but eventually we start overusing them.
And we don’t have to.
When you’re able to step back and see your saboteurs in the light of day, you don’t just understand other people better. You understand yourself better. And it offers you the opportunity to find ways to live that are easier, and kinder, and more fun, and with less judgment of yourself, or others, or your circumstances.
Saboteur assessments are transformative. It’s a free opportunity to shine a light on where you’re stuck and imagine what’s possible. We can learn to turn down the saboteur noise and let our wise mind run the show. And we can find how to live lives that we truly love, full of joy, even when the world gives us every opportunity for anger and fear and frustration and anxiety.
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.
TW: for a frank conversation around my own struggles with food and references to diet culture
I’ve been studying the Enneagram for more than five years, and because of that, most of what I’ve studied feels quite ingrained and accessible. But with anything we learn, I think, there are layers, and as we go through new situations in our life and move further along our path (hopefully toward self-actualization), life has a tendency to throw us the same types of situations again and again, in hopes, perhaps, that we’re ready for a new lesson and can grow further as a result. A mentor of mine recently described this idea as a spiral path for growth, and I know that isn’t a new concept for many of us.
My relationship with food, of course, goes back much farther than my relationship with the Enneagram. My own relationship with food is complicated, with past experiences and challenges around food security, trust, and control. Add to that a hefty dose of diet culture in the 80s and 90s and throw in the fact that in the past eight years, I’ve realized I can’t eat gluten and have some other food sensitivities, and you’ve truly got a recipe for food issues, to say the least.
I could share a number of stories about the effects this has had on my life, and about how many therapy and journaling sessions I’ve devoted to it, but I had a particular experience this week that I found absolutely fascinating and couldn’t resist sharing.
Last night, while talking to Ross (my husband), I said I wanted to open the mint chip ice cream we had in the freezer and have some for dessert. He was supportive, of course. I’d purchased it on sale (it’s my favorite Chapman’s flavor) and I was looking forward to it.
Perhaps a half hour after we chatted, I realized I hadn’t yet gotten up from the table to get myself some ice cream. I washed my hands, grabbed a bowl and spoon, removed the ice cream from the freezer, removed the layer of plastic wrapped around the carton, and began scooping myself ice cream. The bowl isn’t especially large, as it fits in the palm of my hand, but it easily fits a lot of ice cream in it. I remember scooping some, and then more, and then more so it went over the top of the bowl, and then filling in some of the gaps, and then I’m sure I had my inner critic chime in that it was plenty and I’d want some later so leave some for the rest of the week. I put away the carton and grabbed my bowl and spoon.
It wasn’t until I set the ice cream down on the table that I looked at it and thought to myself, why is there so much ice cream in my bowl?
Common reasons I might have told myself I was having a large portion of ice cream in the past have included:
I’m really hungry
I’m having one of those days where nothing satiates me…ice cream will
I need more protein today (yes, that’s a real reason I’ve given myself)
I don’t want to leave a little bit in the carton
It’s a special celebration day
I’m at an ice cream place I won’t be back to for a while (or ever), so enjoy it now
This ice cream place is seasonal and closing soon – make the most of it
I’m having a tough day. Ice cream will make me feel better
I’m sure there are others as well. But do you know what I realized last night?
I hadn’t had ANY of those thoughts. Because I actually hadn’t stopped to think. At ALL. I’d had the gut impulse/light bulb moment/memory of my conversation with Ross which then sent me into the kitchen to get myself ice cream.
And then I brought it to the table. Then, and only then, did I look at how much ice cream I’d given myself and think, hmm, I’m not especially hungry. I’ve got some healthier habits I’m working on. I would have even been happier with a smaller bowl. Why in the world did I give myself so much ice cream?
And the answer, clear as day, that came to me, was because I hadn’t stopped to think.
At all.
So, if that isn’t making sense to you, congratulations! You’re probably not an 8, 9, or 1 on the Enneagram. You may not be a dependent number (a 1, 2, or 6) either.
These three numbers, 8/9/1, are in the “gut” or “anger” or “rage” triad. Part of what makes us unique is that we are dominant “doers”. We all rely heavily on “doing” as we go about our day, with different flavors for each number. As a 1, I’m predominantly “doing” when I am in my automatic, auto-pilot part of my being (which is most of the time, for most of us), with this doing fed by how I am feeling about things, though I may not be self-aware enough to be able to articulate the feeling underneath it. When stressful things happen and I feel things, I react to my feelings by doing. But the main thing here, when we’re in this triad, is that we are doers. We are “doing dominant”.
(Side note – 8s are doing dominant, supported by thinking, and 9s would be both doing dominant and doing repressed, but that’s a story for another day.)
Now, this isn’t a bad thing about myself; it just is. But the other piece of this puzzle is that as a member of the dependent stance (made up of 1s, 2s, and 6s), I am by definition thinking repressed. This means that I am less likely to do productive thinking than the members of the other two stances.
Members of the dependent stance are certainly thinking a lot, perhaps even more than others, but that doesn’t mean our thinking is necessarily productive. We are defined by the fact that it is a big challenge for us to bring up productive thinking, at least if we haven’t done a LOT of work.
So, as a person who thinks of herself (and is thought of by others) as a pretty smart person, I’ve had to wrestle a lot with how repressed thinking shows up for me.
And last night, my goodness. Is that not a perfect example of it?
There were so many times along the path from refrigerator to table where I could have stopped to think: Do I want a small amount of ice cream, or a large one? How hungry am I right now? I’ve got some health goals for the future – should I consider those right now? Am I having a strong craving? How would I feel if I didn’t eat ice cream tonight?
My friends, I thought none of those things. I simply got myself a big bowl of ice cream.
And honestly, if I hadn’t done a lot of work on myself, between studying the Enneagram and mental fitness (which has been my best tool for slowing down these auto-pilot moments), I don’t think I would have even noticed.
(This is also, more generally, a perfect example of the kind of automatic responses and habits built into our personality that require a practice of non-judgmental self-observation to be able to recognize it and potentially make another choice. The Enneagram and mental fitness are both beautiful tools for this.)
Of course, as soon as I observed myself at the table, it got me thinking. What factor has this behavior played when I’ve worked on losing weight? What factor has this played in changing my habits to healthier ones? If I could gain more awareness in this moment, perhaps even long enough to do a short mindfulness exercise, could I eat less each night? How would that feel?
I’ve let go of wanting to be a particular size, for the most part. My only holdout is a couple of beautiful dresses I will likely never be able to wear again. But I think I’m going to be okay with that. However, I want my future self to be as fit as I am currently. And I’ve realized recently, in part influenced by the book Outlive, that if I want to be this fit at 60, or at 80, I need to become super-fit NOW. Because our bodies have a tendency to lose muscle, and lose strength, lose stability as we age, the only way to set myself up for a healthy retirement is actually to get MORE fit than I would otherwise care to right now.
Obviously, to even think about doing that requires some privileges, and I’m not fully convinced if this is even a realistic goal for me in my life right now. But I do have it in the back of my mind as I explore steps I can take, and habits I can form, moving in that direction.
And I guess what I’m saying is, we talk about mindless eating. I don’t do that anymore. My eating is truly mindful. I savor each bite or at least one bite of each food I have on my plate, and I truly take my time and enjoy my meals. But only now am I aware of mindless plating!
Have you observed yourself in moments like this? If you’ve studied the Enneagram, did it teach you anything about your own habits you’d like to share?
How are you feeling, friend? Let’s take a moment to just be. Observe your breathing, in and out, if that feels comfortable for you. Or take a look at a pretty object or window near you, and observe what you see. Count backwards from 20. Let’s just be for a moment.
It may be cliche at this point, but it’s that time of year when it’s common to take time to be grateful. I know I’m not alone in having a dedicated gratitude practice (running on at least five years now, wild!), and if you haven’t yet tried it, whether during the holiday season or any time of year, I definitely recommend it.
Back in 2020, I wrote a blog on how to make the holidays work for you. At the time, a lot of people were struggling with the holidays and how to celebrate them. While Ross and I were living an RV and used to doing our own thing for the holidays, we were aware of local grocery shortages on preferred foods, and where we were staying, in New Mexico, actually had a stay-at-home order in place over Thanksgiving that I’m sure was challenging for many.
I’m grateful that a lot has changed for the better since then (namely, vaccines!), but the holidays are still a challenging time for many, whether due to viruses in the air or distance from family (physical or otherwise) or the challenges that happen when we return home and revert to our younger, less wise selves (or when our family assume we are the same person we once were, even if we aren’t!). Or all of the above, perhaps?
It’s okay to have mixed feelings.
It’s okay to have moments when you feel wrapped up in the love of or even memories of your family/friends.
It’s okay to, in the next moment, feel anxiety that your parents are going to do x, or miss loved ones, or feel resentment that you can’t do holiday celebration you did in the past, or feel jealous of y, who lives with their family or has many close friends while you are living and celebrating alone.
I hope that during this challenging time, you will give yourself forgiveness for these feelings. All emotions are valid. Offer yourself grace. I know you’re carrying a lot, and opportunities for anxiety and other challenging emotions abound.
It may be helpful to remember that if someone else’s life looks glamorous on social media, that is just the tip of the iceberg that you’re seeing. The glamorous surface life may be only a passing moment in a chaotic day or week or month.
Here are a few things I recommend making time for this week, whatever your plans are.
Practice gratitude – and mean it. This can take many forms, and all are valid. Start each morning picturing one thing you’re looking forward to today, in vivid detail, and then realize it. (A warm shower? A cup of tea? Enjoy the magic of simple pleasures you get to bring into your day.) Start or end each day by acknowledging five things you’re grateful for. Start a gratitude journal, whether it’s a big beautiful book or a note on your phone. If you’re connected with your family, begin a meal/Zoom call/family walk by having everyone share something they are thankful for this year.
Make time for exercise. I love indulging in rich holiday foods, as many of us do. Most of us, at least in the corporate sector or education, are also lucky enough to get time off this week. It can be tempting to use that time to relax on the couch, but making time to take a walk or stretch or lift some weights will give you more energy for the festivities and encourage you to enjoy your indulgences more, without guilt. This isn’t about losing weight. It’s about how you feel. Bonus points for combining it with outside time.
Don’t let comparison steal your joy. Have you ever attended a family gathering or friend event and felt like everyone else had it “figured out” except for you? Ever find yourself stretching to describe your own work in a way that puts you in the best light? Ever wish you could be more honest, but find yourself afraid to admit where things haven’t been going your way yet? I find myself using authenticity as an antidote in these cases. And focusing on the good, the things you can be grateful for, is so key. I don’t have to talk about my work. Or I can focus on the happy feeling x gives me, rather than the funds in my bank account or how stressed I’ve been feeling covering for so and so lately. When I envy other’s travel or title, I turn my attention to all the joyful things I am grateful for in my own life. Eyes on your own paper, friends. This can also be a signal to get off of social media and dive into a book, go for a walk, dance to a holiday tune, or watch a favorite movie with a cup of a warm beverage.
Carve out time for yourself. I love my family, but as an introvert who isn’t always her best self at large family gatherings, I’ve worked hard over the years to set boundaries for myself. For me, part of a successful holiday season is making time for my morning routine and making sure I have time to relax on my own. Even living far from family, it can be easy to fill my schedule with Zooms or friend gatherings if I am not mindful of my own needs. If you’re having trouble seeing blank space on your calendar, take a moment to block out a morning or an hour for you each week, or even 5-10 minutes each day. It will help you to be at your best if you are celebrating with others too.
Strive to let go of perfection & release your expectations. I think one of the toughest parts of the holiday season is that we tend to bring to it so many expectations, whether it’s from holidays we experienced in the past, popular culture from movies and books that romanticize the holidays, or a growing awareness of limited time and not wanting to disappoint our loved ones. This season, when you catch yourself judging yourself, those around you, or the situations you are in, can you let those judgments go instead? What would it feel like, when you had a thought creep in, to look at your surroundings with loving attention and gratitude? To be present to joy, instead of to lack or imperfection?
Whatever your plans are this year, I hope you’ll find some comfort or guidance in this advice. No one has your best interests at heart in the same way you do, so go create a holiday schedule that will light you up and invigorate you.
Take care, and Happy Holidays! This may be my last check-in before 2025, so I wish you all the best as you end 2024 and look ahead to 2025.
P.S. Are you ready for a shift? The holidays can truly bring out our lowest versions of ourselves – the parts we are least proud of. If/when you’d like to learn more about the ways we sabotage ourselves and carve out a path forward, please join me for a Saboteur Assessment. And if you’re curious about the role your personality plays in your life and find yourself Enneagram-curious, or you want to take advantage of my BOGO coaching deal before it expires Monday, send me a message to learn more or get started with us in January.
Photo credit (of strings of white lights in the dark): Dzenina Lukac
I’m looking out the window as the snow comes down, at what looks like quite a vigorous pace, outside. I’m snuggled on my coach, laptop in my lap, cat snuggled under her blanket tent at my feet. I am getting work done in my business, fielding good news, looking forward to an Enneagram meeting where I know I’ll leave a little lighter and a little wiser than before. Life is good.
And yet….
I could just as easily write a different paragraph right now. Something like this:
I’m looking out the window as the snow comes down, at what looks like quite a vigorous pace, outside. I drink water frequently to keep from coughing from this post-viral loveliness that doesn’t want to leave me. The chill in the air and the lack of sunlight is depressing. And I look ahead to a meeting this evening, one I am looking forward to, but dreading the drive outside.
Some of us are extremely in touch with our emotions, but for most of us, I think there’s a spectrum. From those who never stop to consider emotions (theirs or others) to those who have tons of them, easily accessible at all times. I think I’m somewhere in the middle. Though I’m very in touch with how my body is feeling, I have to stop to contemplate where my emotions are at, most of the time, unless I’m just caught up in joy, or in rage (thankfully that one isn’t as frequent as it used to be!).
People can tell you to “think positive”. That’s usually pretty simplistic and dismissive, in my experience.
I prefer to choose joy. I can enjoy the wonder of a snowfall from under a warm blanket, with a snuggly cat. I can focus my attention on the positives I’m experiencing and on moments I am truly looking forward to, rather than focusing my energy on the negatives or on dwelling on potential negative outcomes in an anxiety spiral.
I can fear the unknown in the United States and around the world. Or I can celebrate the positive steps I took to make a difference this week, from sharing advice and lending an ear to reaching out to my senator to ask him to say no to the bill eliminating the Department of Education, and signing a petition against confirming a problematic politician.
I can focus on the uncertainties of self-employment, or rejoice in how freeing it was checking a bank account and seeing passive income from Black Friday purchases of my husband’s Play the Ukulele! course.
There’s no right or wrong here. And it’s so easy to see negative, and to get caught in dualistic thinking. But life is truly both/and. It’s scary and it’s beautiful. There’s love and there’s fear. Where will you focus today?
P.S. I’ve gotten much better at navigating, learning from, and simply recognizing my emotions since I started studying the Enneagram. I shared more about how to work with me, using the Enneagram or otherwise, last week.
One of my favorite reads this year has been The Myth of Normal: Trauma, Illness, and Healing in a Toxic Culture by Gabor Mate. It’s a long book, and I’m still working my way through it, but it’s the most comprehensive acknowledgement I’ve found of the complex factors that make our lives challenging as well as the varied ways, from individual to systemic, that healing is possible for us.
In the book, Mate refers to the concept of healing as a journey toward wholeness:
“It is a direction, not a destination; a line on a map, not a dot. Nor is healing synonymous with self-improvement. Closer to the mark would be to say it is self-retrieval.”
Self-retrieval.
What if we could find ourselves again? What if we could work through the suffering, make some changes, change our perspective, and ultimately return to ourselves?
To the beautiful self we were before the world hardened us, changed us, wounded us?
To the wise, sage being underneath all those layers of personality we put on as self-protection?
To the sweet, kind human obscured by our saboteurs and our sabotaging thoughts?
What would a journey of self-retrieval look like?
Conventional thoughts around healing might make us focus on the physical path toward healing: get some rest, take some medicine, eat some healthy food, get some exercise or movement into our day.
But if we’re on a journey of self-retrieval, that kind of healing would also include our mental and emotional needs. Maybe that’s therapy, spiritual development, coaching or yoga. Maybe it’s art-making or finding joy, fostering meaningful friendships and connections or joining support groups. Maybe it’s an afternoon with tea and a journal, or pounding a pillow, or grieving the loss of a loved one or an opportunity or a career that could have been.
One of my coaches emphasizes the importance of play – finding joy in the things we once did as children, or the things we wish we’d have had the opportunity to do as a kid. So for me, self-retrieval might mean cultivating play: purchasing a jump rope, swinging on a swing, coloring in a coloring book, or dancing around my living room or in a dance studio.
What does healing as self-retrieval mean to you?
My Enneagram teacher, Suzanne Stabile, has a book called The Journey Toward Wholeness. I recently re-read it with a cohort of other students of the Enneagram. The conversations have been revelatory. The Enneagram remains my favorite tool for self-retrieval or healing.
It’s so easy, amidst a busy day and week and life, to stick to the status quo and say no to new opportunities. But as Suzanne says in her book, “Even when there is much to do, we must first guard our souls.” I highly recommend joining an Enneagram cohort (my next one will start in the new year) or, if you know your number, a group like my Enneagram Book Club, to further your own work toward self-retrieval.
Do you agree with Gabor Mate, that healing can be seen as self-retrieval? Does this have any implications for you in your own journey?
If you’re feeling a lot of emotions or going through changes in your life, now might actually be the best time for you to seek a community as you navigate your healing journey. And wherever you are in the journey, I wish you all the best.
Where do you begin, when your worst fears seem to be coming true?
How do you process it? And what do you do?
Photo credit: Marek from Pixabay
Back in 2020, when it became clear we might be facing a second term of Trump, my husband and I were fearful for our future. We relied on affordable health insurance as self-employed people and people with pre-existing conditions. We had one plan available to us as we traveled the country in our RV. If that plan went away, or if, even worse, all affordable health care went away for those who were self-employed, we wouldn’t be able to do the work that we loved. Not to mention fears around bodily autonomy and the Supreme Court.
So while in 2016 we’d done a bit of research into moving to Canada, we got serious about it in 2020. Ultimately, for us, the path forward involved my husband going back to school.
We knew we might be overreacting, but we felt like we needed to prioritize our own survival (including mental health) first. So we went for it. We knew we were super privileged. But we felt we needed to put our own oxygen mask on first and avoid becoming a burden to our friends and family if we stuck around and weren’t able to make things work.
Unfortunately, there have been several times since we moved here that we’ve been reminded that some of our worst fears have come true. Reproductive rights being the stunning one. And of course, now, it feels like that’s just the tip of the iceberg.
My work isn’t political on the surface. I help people to create a life they love. Sometimes that’s career coaching, sometimes it’s life coaching. Sometimes it’s mental fitness work or exploring spirituality or many other topics. But I’ve always been passionate about human rights. The rights of everyone to make their own, empowered choices, regardless of what other people expect or advise or prefer. The rights of ALL of us, without judgment of our gender or if we’re trans, the rights of all of us under the 2SGLTQIA+ umbrella, whatever our skin color or country of origin or religion or abilities or neurodiversity…you get the idea.
I want everyone to be fully supported in becoming their full, authentic selves, bringing their own unique gifts and perspective to the world, because I believe that makes the world a better place. If we all had our needs met and could tap into what we do best, I truly think so much fear and anger and hate around the world would start to disappear.
Facing the news yesterday, I observed myself moving through a series of emotions. I’d feel mad, frustrated, fearful, sad, anxious about the future. I’d then catch myself in my emotions and do some grounding work to regulate myself. And then, soon enough, my thoughts would take over again. Maybe I’m ten minutes into a task and another idea occurs to me and I’m in tears or raging. Things like:
What if we have another pandemic in the next four years?
What if Canada kicks my husband and me out unexpectedly?
What if my friends and family aren’t safe? How can I support them if things get really bad?
How do I respect and forgive my friends who prioritized their own concerns over what seems most pressing to me – the humanity and bodily autonomy of a majority of US citizens?
How do I stay regulated and not rage over inconsequential things (otherwise known as, tell me you’re an Enneagram 1 without telling me you’re an Enneagram 1)
I love the warmth of this tea…or this blue sky….How do I avoid losing sight of those gifts in my own fears right now?
How much time before it gets scary?
What about everyone who can’t leave?
In all of this, I keep coming back to gratitude. Anchoring into that has been useful for me.
Gratitude that I’m here in Canada
Gratitude for the community of people here as well as the global community of friends and family who love and support us
Gratitude for beautiful days, for a warm drink, for an apartment we can afford, for work that lights us up
Gratitude that right now, today, my friends and family are okay
And on and on.
Please take the time you need to acknowledge and process your emotions. And when you’re ready, use your tools to self-regulate, to lock into gratitude, to truly care for yourself and your needs right now.
I hope that in the coming days, if you’re also in the United States and feeling fearful (or, honestly, even if you aren’t), I hope you’ll consider asking yourself a few questions. Before doing so, I encourage you to make sure you’re in as grounded, calm, and wise a mindset as possible, to make sure that you answer these questions not from fear, but from love, with the best wisdom your mind has to offer:
Is there anything I’ve been putting off that I should get to soon?
Are there any steps I should take to keep myself and my loved ones safe?
Are there any conversations I need to have with friends or family?
What are my worst fears – and is there anything I can do today to alleviate them?
If you aren’t sure how to calm yourself down or change your emotional state, there are some wonderful tools out there, including many I teach. You can also check out this article I wrote in 2021 on breaking out of a funk.
Please don’t judge yourself or your friends or neighbors for how they’re processing things right now. As much as it might be tempting to, try to view yourself, and others, and even this situation, with curiosity. If we can tap into the wisest part of ourselves, acting from love for ourselves and those we care about, we are much better equipped to work efficiently, feel empathy, and know what’s needed from us in this moment.
(And on a lighter note, my friend Dave Agans has an amazingly hilarious series, a trio of books, the last of which I finally read recently. If you’re into quirky sci-fi or speculative fiction and humor, you might love The Urban Legion as much as I do. Somehow I feel like these might both resonate/feel prescient and also be a great way to relax right now.)
Take care, friends.
P.S. I’m going to begin offering a fifteen minute pause each week for us to reset. There’s no cost. If you want to join me to do some mindfulness exercises, ground ourselves, feel a little joy, and release those negative emotions, you are most welcome. You can sign up here. Alternately, I periodically coach and share in my Facebook group, Crafting the Life You Want.
I’ve always found myself caught between two sides of myself in keeping my place organized. One part of me is an aspiring minimalist, with a keen awareness of the gift of calm and peace I feel in a clean, tidy, and simple space. Other part of me is a pack rat, wanting everything organized in its place but seeing a need to hold onto everything, and with a brain so busy with activities that I seldom want to stop and tidy up.
If I put much (read: any) weight in astrology, I might ascribe this to being a Gemini. I do put some of it up to my nature as an Enneagram 1: my perfectionist tendencies are ingrained habits and coping mechanisms from way back in my life. In my mental fitness work, this would be my stickler saboteur coming out to play. Like so many 1s, we want structure, but we also rail against it, especially when it seems like no one but us knows how to do it correctly. Aren’t brains delightful sometimes?
Regardless of the habits or emotions you find popping up related to cleaning and decluttering, I love this tip I gleaned and shared in the midst of a decluttering phase early in COVID:
When you’re decluttering, always start with the most visible clutter.
It’s not rocket science, but how great is this suggestion? If guests enter your house through the front door, that means EVERYONE will get that view, even if they’re just popping their head in to pick up a package or drop off a meal.
So when you’re ready to declutter, always start with the most visible clutter: you know, the stuff you can see when you open the front door to come inside.
You know the brilliant thing about this tip though? It applies to both decluttering and to our daily lives in general.
In the physical realm, if we start with what’s most visible, we’ll see progress immediately, and even if we get distracted from our task, if someone shows up at the house, they’ll immediately get a cleaner view than they would have otherwise.
In the same way, if we’re feeling overwhelmed by all of the tasks on our to-do list, one helpful method is to start with what’s most visible. If there’s an item that’s been on our list, haunting us, for two months, knocking that thing off the list a) means we won’t be wasting any more brain space or time worrying about getting it done and b) means we can knock it off the list. Chances are that it was taking up more than its fair share of space, and having that done will be super helpful.
Likewise, if I’ve got a million things to do, but I keep putting off making a priority list, that’s the most visible thing that will be a huge help. If I do that first, I’ll be able to see the items that are essential and urgent and prioritize them accordingly. If the most visible thing is that I haven’t updated the family calendar or made the doctor’s appointment that’s required of me, maybe it’s that. But the same idea holds. Consider what’s most visible, or most present, and start there.
While my mental fitness work has me in a pretty great space right now, anxiety is always an old habit my brain can hop to with ease. When there’s extra on my plate to navigate, anxiety means that clutter that normally wouldn’t bother me can feel overwhelming. (I ignore the inner critic and judge in my head under great circumstances, but if I’m tested enough, the anger can say hello! Yes, I’m a textbook Enneagram 1, and my strickler and judge saboteurs are especially strong, and these patterns will always be available to me if I let them.) But the flip side of it is that when I make some time to declutter, I feel palpable relief, basically immediately, and my anxiety gives me a break for a while.
While the visible clutter isn’t always actually the most important thing on our list, it can give us the mental capacity to tackle other things on our list.
If your email inbox is freaking you out a little bit on the daily, it’s time to set a timer and do a bit of decluttering there.
If those dishes are taunting you while you’re trying to work on your side hustle, it may be more effective to do those first, or at least delegate and pass it on to another family member.
Don’t underestimate the power of tackling that visible clutter. And the reverse can be true as well. If you start with the invisible clutter (you know, the stuff in your cabinets), you won’t get the visible satisfaction of seeing and showing off your progress after a decluttering session.
Likewise, the invisible brain clutter may include tasks that, while nice to tackle, are ignoring the elephant in the room, or your brain, metaphorically speaking.
So, I challenge you – tackle some clutter this week. Physical or otherwise.
If you’d like to learn more about the sabotaging thoughts in your own brain, getting in the way of your own projects as you aim to create a life you love, let’s talk! I offer a free saboteur assessment, and you can learn more about it and book a time here.
Thanks for reading, and have a great week!
P.S. Grab a copy of my Four Steps To Your Dream Life Blueprintwhile you’re at it. Giving yourself the gift of organizing and transforming your future is one more way to declutter and grow!
This article is based on an article I originally published on February 5, 2021.
Crafting The Life You Want: A Practice in Living 