The Gut Check – Kirk vs. Gibbs

If you spend even 5 minutes with me you probably pick up pretty quickly that I’m a total data nerd, maybe bordering on freak. I LOVE data and stats!! (Hey, somebody has to!)   I love it for the same reason I love Math – it doesn’t lie, not in its raw form. When people start trying to spin, “interpret”, or otherwise translate for you what the data says – well, that’s where the shenanigans start. But in its raw, unfiltered form – it’s just the Truth. And I do mean Truth with a capital “T”. It’s blunt, stark, and brutally honest. Sometimes I find validation in that. Sometimes I get a Gibbs back- of-the-head slap (reference NCIS). Either way, it tells me the real deal.

But sometimes, my gut tells me there’s more to the data than what’s on the page. Sometimes, my gut throws a flag on the play and calls for a timeout to review. So what do you do when your gut says one thing, but the conventional wisdom or facts on a page suggest something completely different? How do you know which is the right call?

You don’t. It’s a leap of faith – in yourself.

You put your experience, your knowledge, your mistakes, and your successes in a big mental bowl, stir, and “add seasonings to taste as needed”. THAT’S the expertise part, there.   You’ve been in enough situations, been through enough, that you start to see patterns, guess at outcomes, and anticipate where the situation is going. You pull your mental bowl out, dish up some of your own brand of wisdom, and throw it into the current mix, hoping you’ve guessed right about what it needed to turn out well. Sometimes you’re right. Sometimes, not so much. But you learn from the experience either way and add it back into that mental bowl to make it even richer than it was before.

At least that’s what great leaders – and learners – do.

Two of my favorite characters to watch and learn from in the category of leadership are Captain Kirk from Star Trek and Agent Leroy Gibbs from NCIS. Two vastly different characters and yet both do a lot of relying on their gut when everything is on the line.

In the case of CPT. Kirk, he definitely embraces the idea of “turning into the danger” and being audacious and bold with his responses. His faith in himself and his team borders on the near incredulous and yet his faith is hardly ever misplaced. Things might not always go as planned, but his team is right there with him making it all come out right somehow. His thinking is divergent, and his actions and decisions are frequently swift. But he trusts his gut and it hardly ever steers him wrong. Why is that? Because he trusts in himself. He has faith in his own ability to set everything right – eventually.

Gibbs, on the other hand, is equally open to turning into the danger, but he frequently takes a more covert, methodical approach. He plays his cards close to the vest, but he follows his gut, even when it flies in the face of every other fact and order that he’s been given. Like a hound on the trail of a scent, he never sways from it until he’s run his problem to ground. And his faith in his team’s ability to back his play – and him – is absolutely unshakeable. He believes they will all follow their guts and get it right, so they do.

So how does one develop such a staunch faith in one’s gut? Experience and time.

I know this because I’m finally at a place where I’m seeing it for myself in my own life. I’m coming up on situations that I’m beginning to recognize – it’s not my first rodeo – and I’m drawing on that mental mix to guide my assessment of the situation and determine a response. I’ve succeeded and screwed up enough times to have a feel for the situation now. Part of it is experience, and part of it is trusting my own intuitions and knowledge. In a word, it’s confidence. I’m not always confident I’ve got it completely right, but I’m sure that even if I’m not, I can get there. I can fix it, figure it out, and make it work in the end, even if I initially miscalculated.

So what does this have to do with data?

Well, data is VERY compelling – and it should be. Usually, data tells you the whole story. But sometimes, the data is just downright frustrating. It’s elusive, teasing, and playing a little hide and seek with the whole context. Sometimes, the data leaves you with a cliffhanger decision to make. And that’s where your gut comes in. Your gut knows things that your head hasn’t put words to yet. Your gut is that hound on a scent, that primal guardian that urges you to action without a single reason to base it on – yet.

And there’s the real point. Over the years, when I have found myself in that situation again and again, and my gut wound up being proven right when it urged me one way vs. another, I started trusting and listening to it as I looked at facts and data. Over time, it became my Executive Officer, my right hand in the decision making process. I can only assume that this is the kind of evolution the characters of Kirk and Gibbs have gone through, as well.

So does it matter which “flavor” of gut check we adopt? Not really. What does matter is that we listen – and trust – that part of ourselves that knows more than our minds can express. And as much as I love Mr. Spock, sometimes there is more to be figured into the equation than just the facts and numbers. And they are equally important.

Sometimes, even more.

Summertime Peace . . . year ‘round?

I’ve taken a wee break from just about . . . everything! The school year finally came to its official close, (I survived!) and now I’ve just been filling the “happiness bucket” that got emptied out over the past nine months. I’ve done some gardening, read a bunch of books that have nothing to do with work, and just puttered around doing little things that have needed doing for a while. I’ve been running every day and generally getting my health and wellness back on track. Clearly, not running around like a crazy person opens up a lot of positive things in my life! So how do I find the balance between the summertime peace and the school year whirlwind? Hmm. Great question.

There’s currently quite an emphasis on the need for wellness, mindfulness, calm, and balance in our lives – both in the education world and in society in general – and just about every arena – both professional and personal – has something to throw into the mix for us to consider. There are literally hundreds of books, articles, and gurus out there sharing their thoughts on how to achieve all of this in our busy, modern lives. The thing is . . . it all seems like so much work to make it happen that it completely stresses me out thinking about it! Don’t get me wrong – I completely agree that these things are essential for good health and a good life. I’m just not sure how to merge all of these things into something that is doable, sustainable, and accomplishes the goal – more peace and balance, less stress and cattywompus.

So how to start? (I SHOULD be able to figure this out, right??)

I gathered facts, made a schedule on a daily and monthly basis, filled in my set things, and then looked at what time and days I had left. Damn little, actually. No wonder I’ve been feeling stressed – I really DON’T have enough time in a day / week to fit it all in! Ironically, seeing that in black and white actually made me feel better. LOL!

But after a moment of validation and a little chuckle, the sobering reality was I had more stuff to do than time to do it. Still at square one – not helpful. So now what? Well, solve the obvious problem first: eliminate some “stuff” so maybe I can fit it all in. Easier said than done. What if I really can’t /shouldn’t / don’t wanna eliminate it? (See – this is why I love Math! No matter how much of a tantrum I pitch, 2 + 2 = 4. Period. If something doesn’t add up, you screwed up. Nothing to discuss.) Likewise, my solution is pretty stark: eliminate some stuff or change when / how I do it. Wait – WHAT?!

NOOOOOOO!!!!!!! Not CHANGE!!! Where will it end???

Ok, maybe not that dramatic, but you all can relate to the feeling, right? As old as I am, I can still get that two-year-old mentality of “I want what want when I want it!!” Unfortunately, that’s just not the way the puzzle is going to get solved.

And there’s the point – is doing it MY way more important to me than doing it the way it needs to be done to GET IT DONE?

Wow. That realization was like a lightning strike to my brain. Huge flash, thundering shock wave of truth, and then complete silence as it sunk in.

Maybe my “inner peace” and “balance” problem was less about all the stuff and time constraints and more about me being in control vs. going with the flow. Damn. I hate it when I’M the problem in my problem.

But it got me thinking about how this relates to so many of the issues I see at school. It really is the crux of the matter more often than we may like to admit. And by “going with the flow” I don’t mean just going along with things, but rather that there is a natural way or “flow” for how things fit together to make it all work. The problem is, it’s usually never the way we really want it to go.  There’s that control issue again.

We get so locked into one way of thinking or doing that we find it almost psychologically painful to go with the flow of the situation and go against our own self-chosen flow. But if we truly want to solve the problem and bring ourselves more peace, balance, and getting things accomplished, we HAVE to be willing to disrupt that arbitrary, self-induced illusion of peace and move on to the real thing. And that might mean getting out of our own way. (Oh boy – I feel personal growth coming on!)

So with that in mind, my new goal (as I get ready to head back to work again) is to try to bring that real “Summertime Peace” to work this year. And I’m going to try to do that by getting less stressed about HOW I want it done and focus more on going with the flow to GET IT DONE.

And ok – maybe still eliminate some stuff. 😉

What’s Your “It”?

I was reading an article earlier this week – one of those rare moments when nothing is on fire and nobody desperately needs you for anything – and I had one of those experiences where the words just jump off the page and smack you upside the head. The thought that jumped out at me was that everyone has an “it”; a moment in time where things were one way before “it” and things were never quite the same way after “it”. The article went on to discuss different responses to “it” and how that can be a deciding factor in how our life is going right now. Wow. I’d never quite looked at things from that perspective before. I wonder what my “it” is?

I thought of plenty of “it” moments in my life – my grandmother passing away (we were very close); getting married (28 years strong!); the birth of both sons; my husband’s one year deployment to Korea. Those were all personal and family milestones that forever changed the structure and path of more than just one life. But what was MY “it”? What was the one thing that fundamentally shifted the way I go about seeing and living my life because of “it”? Well, there’s really only one so far.   That would be my year from hell.

It was the year I was finishing up my doctorate, and I was teaching sixth grade. By fate or by design – I’ll never know – I had 9 students who couldn’t get along or keep it together for 5 minutes at a time and 9 students who were ordinary kids just trying to do a good job in school. I’d never had a class like that before. Nothing in my years of teaching or teacher prep had prepared me professionally or personally for the daily onslaught of over the top disrespect, out of control behavior, bullying, physical intimidation and fighting, and complete chaos that those nine challenging students dialed up everyday in my room. That was challenging enough, but the complete lack of support from those whose job it was to ensure a safe learning environment for all was the final disillusionment. When it was suggested that their behavior was somehow my fault, I felt frustrated and broken. I read every book I could find, sought out every person that might shed some light on what to do and where I was going wrong, and tried anything anyone suggested. The other parents spoke on my behalf and their own student’s to try to get support, but all to no avail. The year rolled on and eventually one of the parents went to the school board regarding the intensive bullying going on towards her student by another, and the school’s lack of ability to respond effectively. I finished the last three weeks of school with the equivalent of an SRO (school resource officer) in my room everyday. Although the year passed, the die was cast. Nothing was ever the same. I had spoken up and spoken out about those situations. I had advocated for my students – all of them – and in the end I was cast as the villain of the piece.  How had it all gone so wrong?  I was completely off my original course, casting about desperately for some meaning in this swift-moving, raging torrent of events that had swept me far from everything I thought I once knew.  I felt like I was drowning in self-doubt, self-pity, and a complete lack of self-worth.  Dark days indeed.

The person I had to become to endure that year was not someone I would have chosen to become. I learned skills I never thought I’d need to learn, and I learned more about behaviorism than I ever wanted to know. I learned on a personal level what it meant about it doesn’t matter how many times you fall, but how many times you stand back up.  I’d always been a strong person, but now I was labeled a “tough cookie”, “Snape with pearls”, and “Darth Vadar” to name a few, simply because I refused to stay down on the mat. Ironic, really.  I never saw myself that way (seriously? I felt like I was one moment away from being a puddle on the floor every day) – even now – but that’s what others labeled me.  I moved to the middle school level as an Instructional Coach, and I got the reputation for being someone who could “handle the hard kids”. What does that even mean?  Being able to deal with some tough kids was categorized as something undesirable; the “dirty job” no one wanted. And I got them all. It was done to punish me, but somewhere in there I discovered I was already on a bridge (remember that bridge from a few posts ago? This would be that same one) and I decided to just stay on it and see if I could look at all of this in a different way. Maybe I could pull a Briar Rabbit out of my hat and actually come to embrace this.  My grandmother used to say that “It’s a poor situation indeed when you can’t learn something from it.” So true, Nanny.

I’ve always been one to champion the underdog, mainly because my dad always told me that when you don’t understand something try seeing it from a different perspective; sort of the “walk a mile in my shoes before you judge” idea. So I intentionally started trying to build relationships with the kids who were the hardest to like. These were the kids no one seemed to care about. They were rude, disrespectful, sometimes scary, used physical intimidation to push people away, and generally just annoyed the hell out of most everyone at school. I had to understand why they acted this way. I had to make sense of it for myself. My quest for knowledge was deeply personal.

I learned that a lot of these kids had some heart-breaking stories. They needed someone to try to understand them, but they had no idea how to go about making that happen. They needed someone to see them as kids, not just monsters. They needed someone to believe in them, even when they did things that made that nearly impossible. They needed someone to help them unravel the mess they frequently got themselves into. Sometimes, they even needed me! LOL! Who’d have guessed that?! Not me.  Not in a million years.

Although that year was one of the hardest on me both professionally and personally (it’s been hard writing this, even after all these years), I have to say it set me on a course and taught me things in a manner I never would have chosen for myself. From a coaching standpoint, it took me all the way down to the studs and then completely rebuilt me as an educator. For me, it’s my personal example of what “grit” means. It’s my bar for how bad things are in my life. If it’s not “that year” level of bad, then it’s all good; I can do this. And if it looks like it’s even thinking about getting close to “that year”, I now turn into the threat and meet it head on, problem solving and fixing as I go. I don’t wait; I act. I learned the hard way. I also learned I have more in me then I once thought – more perseverance, more patience, more compassion, more strength, more resiliency, more vulnerability, and more capacity to accept help and support from others. All good stuff, and none of it looks the same in my mind as it did before “it”. On a personal level, whenever I think something is too hard, too intimidating, too scary, I use “it” as the bar for measuring my hesitation. If I can live through all that, I can do damn near anything I set my mind to. My mantra – If you can live through that, then don’t crouch in fear – get going!

The irony is that once I got across the bridge and made peace with a lot of things, I ended up in a school that is filled with kids who need high expectations, firm boundaries, and lots of understanding. Kids that need me to help them learn behavior skills and limits, teachers who need support with strategies and understanding these kids and their challenges, and parents who struggle to know what to do and look to us for help. My “it” wasn’t anything I would have chosen to go through, but the things I learned from my “it” might just be the something that I can use to help someone else.

And if that was the point of going through all that, . . . then I’m ok with “it”.

And I NEVER thought I’d say that.  Guess my “it” is still teaching me new things, even now.

What’s your “it” and how’s it driving your life these days? Please share! I’d love to hear from you.

What Do You Mean I Can’t Campout at the Scenic Pullout?

This week marks one of those milestones in our family. Our youngest son – the Math Genius Airman – turns 21. OMG! How did that happen so fast? I swear he was just born last week! I blinked and 21 years flew by. I heard it said once that the days are long but the years are fast with kids. I totally get that now. But wait – how can I be old enough to have 21 and 23-year-old sons?! I clearly remember being 21 myself, so that just can’t be right. I don’t feel that old. And what about all those great times we’ve had as they grew up? Are they over now? I don’t want it to be in the rearview mirror. Maybe I can find a way to hang out here a little longer.

That ship started sailing this past summer when we went to Nova Scotia as a family. We were running out of time to get this trip planned and booked (4 work / school schedules weren’t solid until almost a month out from departure – yikes!) and the travel agency must have thought we were millionaires with the prices they were quoting us. The guys were determined we were going to take this trip so they jumped in and put their travelling know-how to work. One researched and booked the flights, one researched and got hotel rooms, I researched places to see and things to do, and my husband got transportation arranged. And it didn’t cost us millions.  Go team! That didn’t happen when they were kids!

We started the vacation as though we were still parents and children. We quickly realized we were either being too polite (like we hadn’t just spent the last 20+ years together) or we reverted to parent – child hierarchy rather than more adult equals. We had a family meeting (like times of old), talked plainly (that was a little new), and dared to change-up the vacation plan in the middle of the vacation (that was WAY new). We called an audible, learned some things about ourselves, and had a great rest of the vacation. We did an After Action Review (we are all military after all – LOL!) and realized something:  You can keep having the same fun, even when everything is completely different.

That was a really important realization for me. Milestones have a tendency to make me sad (it’s probably the Irish in me) because they force me come to terms with the passage of time. I’m always a little leery of letting go and walking away from that idyllic spot. What if that was it? What if I never see that spot again?  Can’t I just campout here?

I’m learning that milestones are great opportunities to take a little time to savor – the achievement, the moment, the passage of time, the “scenic view” – and pause to reflect on what has come before to bring me here. It’s good to rest, celebrate, and be grateful for the chance to be here in this experience. But I have to remember – it’s a scenic pullout, not a campground. If I campout at one spot in my life, I run the risk of getting stuck there and missing out on even more great scenic pullouts down the road.   I remember one of my former Principals used to encourage us to enjoy the scenic vista for a moment, but to get back out on the road soon so we could be on our way to the next scenic vista. Pause – don’t Park! (Thanks Geri!) I’ve kept hold of that thought over the years when I’m tempted to park. I’ve got to keep moving forward.

My sons are grateful I’m learning this early in their twenties, although maybe not as quickly as they would always prefer! But as I’ve started letting some things go and figuring out how to re-imagine others, I’ve seen how that’s already started opening up new adventures, new opportunities, and new ways for us to still be a family in this new season of our lives. I’m seeing that milestones are more like water stations in the race of life, rather than finish lines. And that’s good! ‘Cause I’ve got a lot of race left in me, and I’m looking forward to the rest of the race with my team. Guess it’s time to get back out there on the road and find out what’s at the end of the next rainbow!

Mistakes – fix them, carry them through, or just appreciate them?

Last week I resolved to fix a mistake in my life – namely abandoning whole creative pieces of myself in pursuit of a life dream – and go back to bring these pieces home to 2018. One of those mistakes was putting the t-shirt quilts on hold until “later” – and later is finally now, almost eight years down the road. I’m noticing that fixing this mistake is both rewarding and testing my patience, not to mention my resolve. But as usual, there are some interesting things to think about along the way.

I’m starting with my marathoning Airman’s running quilt first because I stupidly thought it would be the easiest to tackle. I make decisions and God has a good laugh over how silly I am. I swear no two shirts are the same size square – OMG! At some point I had started cutting out the designs / fronts of some of these t-shirts in preparation for the quilts, but whatever plan I was looking at then is long gone now. I found a great t-shirt quilt book by Martha Deleonardis and collaborated with my son about what he envisioned for his running quilt. (I was really hoping he’d go for one of the more freestyle formats that would allow me to put all these odd-sized shirts together easily. Hilarious that thought even went through my head!) He likes symmetry and balance so of course he wanted the overall effect of the design to be traditional squares all the same size. Insert first test of patience, resolve and calming breathing here.

But I found a basic design he liked, we decided on the color palette, I found the fabric and off I went. Of course, I cut the border sashing pieces at two different times – and promptly forgot on the second go around that I’d changed the size. I merrily cut out half the sashing 2½ inches too short! I belatedly realized my mistake when I went to start sewing the squares. My heart stuttered and dropped down somewhere around my knees. What had I done?! That’s a lot of fabric; I can’t just throw it away! Insert second test of patience, resolve, and calming breathing here.

As I calmed down and thought, an old useful lesson from my doctorate class days floated to the surface, so I applied it again here: A mistake is just an opportunity to look at things in a different way. Quit freaking out and fix the problem in front of you. Ok – my problem is my sashing is too short FOR EVERY BLOCK! Ok – so we add the needed fabric onto every piece of sashing and carry the mistake through the quilt as though I meant to do that. I get to use the fabric and I keep going on the quilt – problem solved. Whew! Of course that means I just added an extra step to every piece of sashing I sew together. Sigh. So be it – it’s a small price to pay for my lack of attention to detail. Maybe if it is annoying enough I’ll remember not to do that again . . . I hope.

So on I go and get the first row done. I’m so proud of myself I feel like I just ran a marathon at the Olympics! Feeling pretty confident, I started on row 2, and that’s when all the happy in my balloon poured out and I landed back in reality with a thud. I realized I’d made the first square with one of the smaller t-shirts and hadn’t added the extra width that I had to every other block in the row. NOOO!! I messed it up again! What the heck?! Insert third test of patience, resolve, and more breathing (and a couple of bad words) here. Ok – I got this. I’ll just carry that mistake through as well. It’s not obvious to any but a serious quilter. Adjust which shirt goes first in all the other rows and we’re still good to go. And for heaven’s sake – PAY ATTENTION from now on!

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I’m over halfway done with the top now and as I meticulously measure, pin, and re-check everything twice, I’m realizing that this quilt is a lot like the profession I’m in and the students I work with everyday. The quilt wasn’t going well when I tried to rush through it. I couldn’t rush because EVERY SQUARE IS UNIQUE. Each one has its own quirks, its own challenges as it tries to connect with its peers and into the larger overall community. When I didn’t take time to really see and work with each block on its own, I ended up messing up the whole quilt. If I give every block my full attention, the quilt takes care of itself; it comes together because each block works, mistakes and all. Sometimes fixing the mistake in the form of starting over just isn’t feasible or doable; it is what it is now. Sometimes, you just have to adjust and carry the mistake throughout the entire quilt. However, now that I’m many rows into the quilt, the mistakes are actually adding character to the overall design, not unlike the actual mistakes and work-arounds my son encountered in his middle and high school running days. There’s a symbolism and beauty to that which I couldn’t have planned for intentionally; the metaphor emerged because of the mistakes, and a deeper beauty emerged because of the response to them.

So where does that leave us as teachers, leaders, and coaches? Maybe we can draw from ancient Japanese Zen culture in its appreciation of that which is not perfect. There is beauty and harmony to be found when we appreciate the perfect alongside the imperfect. Together, they provide a deeper meaning and poignancy than when we look at either separately. Everyone is a mix of mistakes, triumphs, hard times, and unplanned outcomes. Every block deserves our full attention – whether it be the easy one or the one that challenges us at every turn – so that together we create something not perfect, but beautiful in its own imperfect way, nonetheless. Maybe we need to remember that our students’ stories are made up of many small blocks – perfect and imperfect – and remaining calm and appreciating where we all are at in any given moment is just as important as the end product we are striving to achieve.

Tomorrow’s another opportunity to decide again – fix them, carry them through, or just appreciate them? For me, I’m going to try to focus a little more on giving my full attention to the quilt blocks and yell at myself a little less about making mistakes. The mistakes might just be opportunities to see things in a different way.

The Other Side of the Bridge – Did we all make it?

A personal story of self-care 

We got an unexpected day off from school Thursday, thanks to winter storm #Hunter as it moved through Kansas. I decided it was time to spend some serious quality time on the t-shirt quilt I’m making for my oldest son, my marathoning Airman. I admit – I’ve been avoiding that quilt. You see it started a long time ago, in a place that now feels far, far away . . .

My sons were young and as they began to participate in activities, they collected t-shirts along the way. As a history buff, I sensed these were artifacts that I might want to do something with to mark the memories being made, and I started saving them. I didn’t have a plan in mind when I started. I just knew I should save them now and figure it out later.

Of course I had no idea “later” would be so far down the road. I collected and planned and then I returned to the classroom when my youngest entered Kindergarten. That slowed the crafting / creative side of me down a bit because teaching and the boys’ activities kept ramping up. But the shirts kept coming and I kept saving them.

Then the Army sent my husband on a one year unaccompanied tour to South Korea and that slowed things down even more. But the shirts kept coming and I kept saving them. My husband returned and then I had the opportunity to pursue a life dream of earning my Doctorate.   And that’s where the creative side of me got off the train. I didn’t realize it at the time because I was so focused on the professional-academic-data-research side of me – all things I have an equal passion for – but the creative part of me quietly exited stage left and faded to black. Professional challenges, boys in high school, then college and I never noticed it wasn’t there anymore. But the shirts kept coming and I kept saving them.

So two years ago, when I realized I’d reached the other side of the “bridge”, I began to take stock of myself and figure out what had survived and what was missing in my life. I made the New Year’s resolution to go back – go back and search for the things I loved and had abandoned or left behind along the way. Go back and find running. Go back and find my music. Go back and find gardening. Go back and find my creative self.

I decided the best place to start was to take stock of my craft room and get it organized again. As I started going through all my things, it began to remind me of Sleeping Beauty’s castle. Everything was frozen in time exactly as it had been nearly eight years ago when I stopped. Projects in different states of completion, plans for new ones waiting to get started, materials sitting there ready for me to make something with them. It was stark, abrupt, and startling. I’d completely turned my back on this, and yet I hadn’t even realized what a large part of me was missing until I stopped and looked around. I knew my resolve to go back had to start here.

As I began organizing, I realized that although I had stopped pursuing that part of my life, life had not stopped. The t-shirts had just kept coming. I started sorting all those shirts into categories that turned into themes, and the themes turned into years of memories. At first I was curious, then I was alarmed, and finally I was overwhelmed and on the verge of a panic attack. I had saved enough shirts for twelve full size quilts – TWELVE!! That’s insane! TWELVE?! OMG! I’m never going finish. Maybe I shouldn’t even start this. Why did I start this? Oh yeah – balanced life, inner joy, and self-fulfillment. Seriously? Maybe I need to do some more breathing first. This is feeling a little like the jungle again. Maybe it’s just too late to go back?

As usual, this situation (and breathing) brought me to some reflection. As much as I’d wanted to reach this new professional destination (and now I wanted to bring myself back into balance) I never realized that everything would change – including me – along the way. I also didn’t realize going back would probably involve some effort on my part – not all of it sunshine and roses – to bring it up to the present. I had a decision to make, both literal and figurative: Do I truly go back and bring those lost things out of the darkness into the sunlight on the other side, or do I just leave them where they are and move on?

Everybody has to weigh the pros and cons and decide for themselves; each choice has its own sacrifice and reward. Neither is right or wrong – just unique to you. For me, I decided that all the work that went into reaching one dream wouldn’t really have been worth it if the price were to sacrifice all the other creative ones in the end. When I took stock, I realized “we” didn’t all make it; some members of “team me” were still back there on the bridge. If this new destination were going to mean anything, I’d have to try to find as many of those lost team members as possible and bring them with me here in 2018.   So like Forrest Gump continually going back into the jungle and bringing out buddies, so I’ve decided to go back and bring all those things forward to join me where I am now. And that means tackling those quilts, one shirt at a time.

We tend to think of self-care as pampering, cozy, and comforting. But sometimes, self-care is caring enough about yourself to do the work it takes to be well and whole.   Sometimes that involves hard conversations with yourself. Sometimes it means sweat, sore muscles, a little frustration, and a bad word or two. Sometimes it’s the small voice that says, “I refuse to give up. I will start again tomorrow.” For me, it’s time to lace up and, as we say in running, go fish for the stragglers and bring them home.

Transitions – The Goat, the bridge, and the Troll

There’s been a lot of transitioning going on in my life the last 6 months, and so naturally it’s been on my mind.  And when I say “on my mind”, that can be interpreted as I’ve been playing with it, studying it, and batting it around like a cat with a mouse until there’s not much left.  Like most cats, I’m extremely curious, and this tends to take me on more than a few thought journeys as I try to puzzle out the whys and wherefores of whatever has caught my interest.  Enter transitions.

If I’m being honest, I’ve never really considered them until recently.  All I really know about them is that they’re hard.  Whether it’s the attainment of a long strived for goal or something you don’t see coming that flies out of left field and knocks you on your butt, change and the inevitable transition that goes with it is just rough.  Heaven knows there’s a lot out there on change – how to create it, manage it, survive it, lead it or sustain it – but it’s all focused on getting something to go from where it is to someplace new, whether it wants to or not.  Most don’t consider what’s supporting the effort between what was the old normal and what’s the new.  However, I stumbled upon the book Managing Transitions by William and Susan Bridges (2009). It’s a great read and I highly recommend it for those of you who really want to dig deep on this topic.  One thought that really captured my attention was their idea that transition is psychological and one of the pieces of this process is a neutral zone or “emotional wilderness” when you have an opportunity to create the thing you are trying to become, get to, etc; it’s where the magic of innovation happens.  They urge you not to rush through it but embrace it (chapter 1).

On first hearing I thought, “Embrace the messy, feel like a newbie idiot with my shoes on the wrong feet, haven’t got a clue what to do next feeling?  Are they nuts?” That sounds very Zen and I don’t know if I have it in me to be that amazing. Enter the cat.  But what if they’re right?  What would that mean?  Why does embracing this feel more than a little scary?

After spending a lot of time batting that idea around (ok – it fueled more than one morning run), I came up with this analogy.  Remember the Three Billy Goats?  What if we’re the goats and the transition is the bridge we’re using to get to the other side – the new normal.  Applying the Bridges’ idea to this analogy, we, as the goats, should take our time going across the bridge and savor the experience, taking time to try new things, embrace innovative perspectives, and take in the whole re-imagining process.  But wait a minute – wasn’t there a troll somewhere, maybe under that bridge, just waiting to jump out and eat us?!  Ah. Enter the real reason we fear change and transitions: we don’t have total control over the process.  If we’re going to embrace the transition then that means we have to accept that we might  be the thing that gets reimagined by the time we get to the other side.  We have to be brave enough to face the troll – however it appears to us – and have faith that we will make it to other side, one way or another.  Daring to think of yourself as something new and different – gulp – is more than a little scary.

So where does this leave me, and maybe you?  I’m kinda in the middle of the bridge and I’ve faced a couple of trolls so far but if I’m being honest, it’s a little exhilarating to re-imagine and “breathe into it”.  I don’t know how long the bridge is, but I think I’m going to try enjoying the view – and the trolls – a little more moving forward.  Who knows – I might just be different by the time I get to the new normal.

See ya on the bridge!

Melissa

 

To do or not to do – are these my only options?

I’m on day 35 of the Runner’s World Streak #rwrunstreak winter 2017 (I started 4 days late due to company in my house over Thanksgiving) and as much as I love running, I have to say I’m looking forward to it being in the “Accomplished!” column.  I’ve learned so much about myself, about self-coaching (I can be kinda bitchy to myself), and the rewards of not listening to my inner slacker (I ran with Charity Miles to earn donations to charities through my running.  Great motivator!).  HOWEVER . . . it’s hard to keep the love affair going when I never get away from it.  Everyday – whether I want to or not, whether I’m feeling sick, still healing from bruises, my muscles ache, my sinuses are throbbing and my eyeball feels like it’s about to pop out, or it’s Christmas day – I run.  I’d say “OMG” but I’m too tired and sore to bother.

On the flip side, I’ve gotten a lot stronger, both physically and mentally.  I’ve learned I can do things and reap benefits even when I’m not enjoying the activity at the moment.  I’ve learned I need to be kinder to myself – and I can still kick butt even though I’m not necessarily kicking my own all the time – and I learned determination sometimes means you choose to show up and follow through – everyday, no matter what.  Period.

So as I prep to go back to school, staff, students, and parents, my new learnings are speaking to me.  Let’s be honest – whether you’re a teacher, coach, leader, administration, or just a life-long learner – going back to the daily “treadmill” of work and dilemmas looks about as appetizing as my real-life treadmill looks at 5 A.M. in the cold dark basement.  But taking my new insights with me as I move forward, I know a few things:

  1. It won’t be dark once I turn the lights on; it will be cozy.
  2. Getting started is the worst part; once I get going, I actually begin to enjoy it.
  3. Whether I enjoy it or not isn’t important; doing it is.
  4.  I will feel better about myself at the end of the day because I did what was important and necessary – for me and maybe for others as well – and I might have just helped someone else along the way.
  5. In the end, it doesn’t matter how fast or brilliant of a job you do on any one day; what matters is how you finish the course.  Showing up and finishing are half the battle.

Runners take your marks! The second semester race is about to begin – good luck and I’ll see you along the course on the way to the finish line!

 

 

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Step 4: Troubleshooting Dilemmas and Celebrating Success

At this point, the finish line is in sight.  Most of the work has been completed and looks good.  You’re proud of what you’ve done and how much your effort has paid off.  However, there’s a few places that have emerged as dilemmas.  Not terrible, but not working as it should and those few things are marring an otherwise terrific performance.  Hmmm . . . how to fix?


Troubleshooting issues is honestly my favorite part of the process.  It requires me to put all my knowledge, experience, and skill to the test as I weigh my options.  It’s also the part that feels like I’m on the edge between potential greatness or epic failure.  Courage and boldness is usually what’s required at this point, and that’s when I know I’m about to learn something BIG.  I love the adrenaline rush!  Of course sometimes, when I’m at the end of my knowledge and completely exhausted, I feel like I just want somebody else to fix it.  I don’t have any more answers!  That’s when I take a deep breath, stay calm, and just keep trying.  I know I’m on the brink of learning something new here, too.


When last we left the walkway, it was mostly done and looking good, but there were some dilemmas that required special attention.  Odd gaps, unique placements, and time slipping away, I notice my supplies are running low as well.  I’ve got to bring this thing to a positive conclusion utilizing what I have available to me right now. After consideration, I decided to create a new pattern to fix some overall gaps, used smaller “bricks” to fill in odd spaces . . .

 

and in the end just left some gaps as is.
Each fix was specific to one problem, but it had to address the problem both individually and systemically. The solution had to work for both that individual problem AND it had to enhance the overall outcome for the entire project.  There’s the rub.  Sometimes a solution might be found to address the individual problem, but doing so would diminish the positive impact of the rest of the work.  At that point, it might not be perfect but you just have to be happy about it and not rage out.  The success of the whole is more valuable than getting every little thing perfect. Japanese Zen art tells us that the 1% is a valuable part of the finished piece – it reminds us that there is always an opposite to keep us balanced and humble.  The 1% is our human shortcoming and the 99% is the wow we are able to bring into the world.  The 99% is where we’ve been; the 1% is where we start next.  The 1% is where we have never gone before.


And then just like that . . . you’re done!  It sneaks up on you as you persevere until suddenly you look up and realize – it’s finished.  Do take some time to celebrate, congratulate yourself (and your team, if applicable), and admire the results of all your hard work.  Rest, enjoy, and then, when the time is right, let your mind wander to the next project you want to take on . . . and start the journey again.
Thanks for coming with me on this thought journey!

 

So what project are you thinking about taking on this year?