A serendipitous moment occurred in my life a few weeks back. I was up to my eyeballs in boxes & bubble wrap in preparation for my move to Phoenix only 48 hours away and I decided to just take a day off to invest in my mental health.

Well, actually much more than that. I had devoted the entire day to attending Andy Dooley’s magical workshop called BreakTHROUGH: How to become an Unstoppable, Irresistible, Deliberate Creator! And, boy, did he deliver. Andy’s infectious humor and effervescent enthusiasm transformed a bland hotel meeting room into pure bliss.

One of the most powerful moments of the day for me was developing awareness around the stories we tell ourselves. I sat up and listened intently when Andy asked: “Which came first, the story or REALITY?” And here’s the kicker, folks – “The story always comes first.” He elaborated, “The hardest part of telling a new story is believing it when you’re surrounded by conditions that don’t support it. Remember, reality is a temporary illusion.”

My personal stories include the mundane and simple, “I forget things,” to much more elaborate and arcane rubbish that reeks of drama, neediness, panic, insecurity that makes my brain hurt unnecessarily. So as we were challenged to do, I wanted to start telling myself new stories and begin feeling differently, feeling good about the reality I am creating for myself. Right here. Right now.

Particularly, I’m determined to move my fixation off the one thing that’s out of whack in my life and focus on the gazillion things that I can actively appreciate here and now…all just by telling myself another story.

As a professional coach, I regularly help people examine and process their present and visualize their future. But just for a moment, I want to look back with you.

Childhood memories can be a major stumbling block, filled with drama and trauma. (Blah, blah, blah. Nothing that a few years in psychotherapy couldn’t help. Right?) I think it’s a very rare few who walk away from that experience completely unscathed.

So, dear reader, I decided to tell myself another story about my own time of wonder. Here’s a glimpse of the magic that made my childhood truly special:

• Meeting the prima ballerina from the New York City Ballet at the Saratoga Performing Arts Center after their performance of Swan Lake during the summer of my sixth year.

• Visiting the Great White North (aka Canada) in our Volkswagen pop-up camper van one glorious July. Seeing the tide come in at the Bay of Fundy and driving through New Brunswick and Nova Scotia, then boarding the car ferry to Newfoundland for several weeks of family camping euphoria.

• Traversing the streets of Boston from the jumpseat in the back of a Checker Cab.

• Trying to get my mouth around the 3 inch thick roast beef & Russian dressing on rye sandwich at Joe’s Deli (which I’m not sure exists anymore…) in Albany, NY. (Apologies to my vegetarian readers!)

• Collecting seashells and crabs by the bushel in Searsport, Maine.

• Taking the train to New York City for a Dad and Daughter lunch date at Manny Wolf’s (now Smith & Wollensky’s in Midtown).

From the outside, I’m sure this looks like a wonderfully elitist upbringing for a white chick from New England. Ok, I’ll give you that…as a good sociologist from UCLA enlightened me on such things in grad school. But I will gently remind you that there’s a flipside here. Let’s just say, in this life, we all need compassion. Regardless of circumstances. No judgment. Lots of love. And, for me, a cup of coconut gelato would top this off nicely, too! <wink>

What’s important here is that I can be conscious, awake and aware around the stories that I tell myself. I can create my own reality based on the script I decide to run through my head. So can you.

Tell yourself a new story. How can you change your focus? What can you appreciate about your life right now?

P.S. Andy Dooley’s BreakTHROUGH workshop may be coming to a town near you…if so, check him out!

Photo credit: nophoto4jojo on Flickr

“It might be a quarter-life crisis
Or just the stirring in my soul…”

~John Mayer

When I was the driver’s seat of my twenties looking down the road, I wasn’t always sure of what lay ahead. To be honest, I really didn’t have a clue. I think Steve Jobs said it best: “…you can’t connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards.”

But as I traveled down that road – fumbling to make sense of the journey and feeling intimidated, unsure, and frustrated – I discovered a key to mentally flip the situation from impending crisis to unlikely opportunity.

So here’s an extension of the Steve Job’s theorem that I’d like to offer you: if you can’t connect the dots looking forward, then don’t overly invest in any particular outcome. Why not set your expectations at “neutral” and practice accepting alternative outcomes in life? Be open. Life is full of possibility. Approach life like the real-time, ultimate treasure hunt it is.

Here’s how the chips fell for me: When I was in my early 20s, I was offered an incredible once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to do volunteer outreach and training work in Australia. How could I pass up an opportunity like that?! With no real discernible skills – I had just dropped out of my degree program – but a lot of enthusiasm, I was bound for the Land Down Under. That decision to be open to whatever came along brought complete liberation and sheer adventure. But not without a healthy dose of self-doubt and a sharp deep breath.

I was leaving behind almost two years of pre-med courses where I earned Dean’s List grades and a forward looking commitment to go to medical school. From that perspective, my future was seriously locked in, for say, the next 10 years. And I had mentally written in all the compulsory filler around a medical degree, like a handsome husband and 4 beautiful kids, a house in the suburbs, and European vacations. It was all very neat and defined. And not a lot of fun because it was somebody else’s idea of what I should do with my life.

Needless to say, that volunteer experience in Australia transformed my life in ways I would have never expected. First of all, I had no idea how much I’d love facilitating training events. I learned to wind surf and snorkel and met so many fascinating people from around the world. Oh, and I randomly stumbled upon my true calling in life – helping others transform their lives through personal growth and life-long learning.

Two years later I returned to the U.S. to embark on a fulfilling career in learning & development that has taken me all over the world plus empowered me to discover and follow my own dream to make a difference in the world. All while enjoying my life, but more importantly, being true to myself. Echoing the insightful lyrics of John Mayer, I’m glad I paid attention to the stirring in my soul. Crisis averted.

Truth be told: The world is your oyster. Where do you go from here?

Editor’s note: This post was orginally published in the Young Professionals blog on Life Meets Work.

Related post: Is it scary enough?

I’ve been mulling over this concept for months now. Maybe years. It’s like a good old-fashioned homemade soup* – in my mind, of course. Start with fresh chicken stock. Add some sliced ginger. A few cloves of garlic. And simmer. Finish with coconut milk. Forget the microwave; it’s just not going to produce anything nearly as tasty.

It’s a truth we’re not always willing to own up to. Sometimes things just take time. And that’s the way it is. Period. We’ve psyched ourselves up for the sprint when we should have been preparing for the marathon. And, no, it’s not a half-marathon. In life, we’re all here to go the full distance. The whole 26 miles and 385 yards.

Two things coexist here, begging to be considered simultaneously: scope and pace. What’s the big picture look like? And what’s it going to take to get there? I’m not necessarily talking about goal setting. I’m talking about the ultimate BIG picture here and how one goes about customizing and fine tuning the training schedule.

My fixation for understanding has been wrapped around pacing myself in life. Is it a universally held truth that I must accept and conform to the tempo of the status quo? What if I actually discovered my very own personal life rhythm? I’ve heard the beat of my own drum and, you know, it actually sounds really good to me. And it doesn’t mean I have to accomplish X by the time I hit 30 or whatever. Anyways, I have no regrets about waiting until I was over 30 to:

• Complete my undergraduate (and graduate) education
• Get married

And it took me yet another decade to:

• Have a child
• Buy a home

A bit unconventional? Yes, for some. But not for me. It’s been a great ride of joy and contentment. Without bumps? Absolutely not. But I wouldn’t trade the slow boat to China for a Learjet. It’s just not my style. Oh, and I’m convinced I’m in good company, too.

“I was 32 when I started cooking; up until then, I just ate.”

~Julia Child

Did it inhibit my ability to thrive? No, not in the least. I vividly remember an anthropology professor whose encouragement inspired me to enroll as a returning student. Certainly, his boost was welcome. But the fact is: I was ready. I wanted to experience the “higher learning.” Ah, there it is, plain, yet in its full glory: experience.

How do you experience your life? Have you found your inner drummer? I’d love to know how you pace yourself without getting caught up in the ubiquitous need for speed.

Photo credit: Joe Brandt

*Editor’s note: I like to cook. If you’d like the recipe for a quicker version of Tom Ka Gai (Thai Coconut Chicken soup), just email me for a deliciously simple recipe. Paradoxical? Nah, I love to experience food more than prepare it. ::wink::