Here is where the rubber meets the road. I knew I had to leave. I knew what I wanted and what I valued. Those exercises solidified the fact that I really, truly needed to depart the cubicle. It was cold as hell, the commute was killer and, oh wait- it was doing nothing for my life.
When I first heard the term “reverse engineering,” I latched onto it. I absolutely loved the concept, because it completely flipped the equation. Instead of figuring out each next step, one after the other, reverse engineering is taking the final product (or goal) and taking it apart to see how it works (how it comes to be).
One of my coaches talked a lot about how every time you level up, your shit bubbles to the top. Every time you advance, you have to shine a light on something that you didn’t know about yourself, a truth you ignored, blissful ignorance.
I have a really, really hard time remembering my childhood. When I reflect back, there are the highlight reels, and the lowlight reels, but distinct memories are hard to recall on command. I think that part of that is protective.
Always coming back to this work. And it is funny, I never resonated with doing "the work" until recently, but realize it is a never ending process. That work doesn't mean there is a completion date. I think the finality of school as a learning environment truly skewed my perception of conceptual learning.
But none of that will happen without the selection of a lane. A choice to commit to a priority that resonates with my values and my beliefs. A library of choice is useless without action. When I travelled last week, my choices were whittled down and my actions were clear. I felt accomplished because I had focus.
If someone were to ask me today how I'm doing, and had approximately one hour to kill, I'd have quite the download for them. I've been reflecting on the last year and what it has meant to me, how I've shown up, and what I keep pushing down...
One of the old habits I used to shrug on, as easily as an old coat, was unproductive, stressed-out worrying. Often tied to work, I would future trip, running worst-case scenarios that ultimately ended with me being fired, demoted or any other myriad of unlikely events.
My thought patterns would snowball into the most negative of potential outcomes, usually manifesting physically with an elevated heart rate, headache or the worst- sweating. Try walking into a performance review after you’ve mentally already fired yourself and are sweaty, to boot.
I went to my first yoga class in my second year of university. I had never been to any sort of yoga class before, but I was definitely yoga-curious. The little I knew about yoga intrigued me—it was just so different from anything I’d done before, filled with history and culture from a time and place that I knew nothing about. I hadn’t grown up in a religious household—we did the Hallmark holidays, but nothing other than that—and so yoga seemed to hold some sort of reverence that was entirely new...
The email was signed, “Take care.” I looked at it, bursting into tears at the closing. With those two simple words, it felt like someone had reached deep into my vulnerable heart, offering to hold it for a moment...
Here is the thing. When I was deep into hating my job, Sundays were the worst. The day would start amazingly- brunch, walks, hanging out- but as it progressed, and the start of a new week drew closer and closer, a dark cloud seemed to move in. If you feel like your job isn’t where you want to be, or that you are destined for something bigger, Monday morning can bring a lot of stress into your life. And even still, if you love your job, Sunday afternoon signals the close to a perpetually too-short weekend...
When I quit my job in August, it was a weird time. I was doing something that I celebrated, that I had dreamt about, that I was doing solely for me. I was also full of doubt and a rollercoaster of regret. I didn't know exactly how things were going to work out- there was only the thinnest of plans sketched together, so thin that if you squinted, they weren't really there.
I had a whole blog post planned up in my head. January was hustle and flow month in our house, so the whole thing was a run down of what worked, what didn't and how we made it through to the other side.
There comes a time when you can't just continue to sit and read the Facebook posts, or absorb the newscasts. I've never been an astute political science student, or as well-versed in world issues as my brilliant friends, so I often refrain from contributing to the seemingly never ending scroll of political updates on Facebook. But today, with news of the latest tragedies in Quebec, I realized that the impetus is on each and everyone of us to not just share/post/like/dislike, but rather to say something and get involved.
However, when I get clear on what was going on at that time, it was amazing how incongruent this new phase was with my values. I wanted to feel free, but I felt crushed by a mortgage. I wanted to feel in control, but I couldn’t keep up to the demands, the bills, the reality. I wanted to be all in in my life right now, rather than wait for permission (and my RRSP payout) later.
I’m sick and tired of feeling like I’m being owned. Like I’m steamrolled, trying to tread water, barely keeping it all together. Anyone who has read here for awhile knows that things have been a bit of a crazy rollercoaster ride. Sort of like standing in the sea, with the water up to your eyeballs, in the middle of a hurricane, waves crashing down over me.
The other day, I sat at the edge of the beach, at the edge of a dock, at the edge of the city. Sitting there, in my most favourite leopard coat (found in a tiny store in a stop on the London Tube), my fingers were wrapped around a steaming hot black coffee.
Since becoming a coach, shifting my life and starting my own biz, I’ve been a lot more mindful with the start of each month. It is time to start fresh and reassess. Borrowing from Jacki Carr’s book, let’s kick the month off with a check in. It has also been awhile since I dropped in last.
I have saltwater in my veins, in my blood. My skin is smooth from the ocean’s sandblasting. I am full of sleep, my body running on real, nourishing food. The last ten days of travel, hanging out in Costa Rica, mellowed my soul and mended my mind. My husband and I took a honeymoon 2.0, eschewing all responsibility for a getaway to one of the most beautiful enclaves on earth.
I have been on power mode the last month. Just high octane, hustle hard, make shit happen mode. At the end of August, we had our hearts broken when we woke up and found out that our sweet little dog had passed away in the night, completely unexpectedly. I’d say that is one reason why things have been so quiet around here.
Yesterday I stepped off the ferry, homebound from my part time job (we’ll get to that in a moment). I saw someone that I’ve known since I was kid, and have grown up alongside, albeit in different social circles.