Want a Sublime Theater Experience?

Time to read: 20 seconds. Time to sign up for a sublime theater experience: 1 minute

I'm working out of town this week and barely have internet so I am going to make this short and sweet.

My husband has a gift for finding amazing culture and pop culture events, especially in the arts. I'm sharing one with you today that created a deeply moving and sublime experience. He, I and our 17 year old each did it.

It's hard to describe. It's just you, another person and an electronic voice on the phone. You follow the prompts. You don't know who or where the other person is. It was safe. Intimate. In a word, amazing.

In a year where we have been socially isolated, feeling connected to humanity is a gift. It's $10 and takes one hour. It's worth it, even if you feel a little nervous or uncertain. (I did). That's part of the point.

Sign up for A Thousand Ways here.

If you decide to give it a try, email me and let me know how it was.

It's incredible the creativity inspired by COVID.

Love to you.

How're You Doing?

Time to read: Less than 1 minute.

I was talking to a colleague earlier this week, and she observed that there are, like, 16 crises going on at once. There's pandemic news. International news. The verdict in the Derek Chauvin trial. Feelings about returning to the office and school. Kids struggling academically. Kids struggling mentally. Then it's not like regular life events stop happening.

Wouldn't it be nice if you could say, "no thanks on the car trouble today. There's a pandemic."

I'm going to keep this short because it's a lot and your brain needs a rest. Here are two thoughts:

1. Have grace for yourself and others. You are carrying a lot. So are they. Be gentle and kind.
2. Take good care of yourself physically. Eat. Sleep. Rest. Walk. In an intense week, go back to the basics.

How are you doing? Feel free to email me. I always love hearing from you.

Love to you.

Feeling Tender About This One

Time to read: 1.5 minutes. The development of understanding? Worth every second

My babies

Many of you know that I'm based in Minnesota. This week, another Black man was shot, and we are in the middle of Derek Chauvin's trial for killing George Floyd. People are sad, angry and fed up. Our city is on edge. So, today I'm writing in that context and honestly, I have to hit send on this newsletter before I lose my nerve.

I want to talk about blind spots.

Last summer, my teenage daughter wanted to attend a protest after the murder of George Floyd. Every parent worries about their children out in the world. And after a week of helicopters over our house, neighbors reporting SUVs with no license plates on our street, and friends who own a hotel describing their Covid-empty rooms suddenly filled with people from out of town, the fear was beyond a regular Saturday night.

An important fact: My daughter is brown.

And this is not a story about her.** This is a story about blind spots and what it takes to create understanding. Ultimately, IMHO, understanding, relationship and love are what will get us out of the mess we're in.

Back to the protest and the fear.

After my girl left the house, I texted a friend of mine who is Black. Our children go to school together.

Here is our text string:

Me: On Tuesday, P went to the Capital to protest with a number of school friends. On her way out the door, I quizzed her on what to do in response to the police (comply), how to make sure her friend group stays together, how to keep her eyes open for danger.

As she walked down the sidewalk, I cannot describe how I felt. Disembodied is the word I'll use. It's like a circuit breaker tripped. I thought of you. I'm embarrassed to say this. I saw for the first time what I imagine mothers of color feel like every single time they let their kids out the door. My fear was in my bones. As a white mom of a brown child, I realized I've been doing everything I can to keep her in a safe bubble until what? She's old enough to handle the world? Until the world changes?

Friend: That is what it feels like to be a black mom, sister, wife EVERYDAY.

Me: In that moment, all I could do was make sure she was as prepared as she could be and let her go, hoping the world will love her as much as I do. I'm sorry it's taken me so long to get it.

Friend: I sincerely appreciate your words and your time and your authenticity.

It look a visceral, physical experience for me to finally understand. And, it should have taken a lot less for me to get it. (To be clear, this "should" is not coming from shame or beating myself up. It's coming from ownership and recognition that I can do better.) If we're willing, we can shine a light on our blind spots and one step and one relationship at a time, turn the world into the place we want it to be.

Maya Angelou said, "Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better."

That's what I've got for this rough week.

Annoyed? Use It For Good

Time to read: 56 seconds

Years ago when I hired my first coach, I got 2-word responses when I emailed her. If I was having a "learning experience" between sessions (usually accompanied by tears and snot), I had to wait until my next session to tell her about it.

These things annoyed me.

Other things that annoy me (it's a long list so I'll only give you a few):

• When people don't respond to emails.
• When people get aggressive or yell at me in traffic.
• When a group jumps straight to the work without establishing relationships first.

Annoyance provides insight into what's important to you. Other people get to design their lives and work however they like. I have no judgment for the 2-word email or the lack of response. (I do judge the traffic situation ever so slightly.)

Take a look at your annoyances and let them guide how you design your commitments.

For example:

• I value communication and connection so I reply to every email.
• I want my clients to feel supported out in the world so they are able email and text me between sessions.
• If it annoys you when people interrupt your focus, make sure you check before interrupting others.
• If you know the power of relationship to make work easier, then you do what's needed to prioritize connection.
• If getting cut off in traffic annoys you, be generous with those trying to merge.

Using your annoyances lifts being annoyed from something that's... well... annoying and elevates them into tools to create work and life on your terms.

Selfishness = Service

Time to read: 55.3 seconds

In January, my doctor friend sent me a text.

"You should volunteer for this. They said they need organized non-medical people, and you are the most organized non-medical person I know."

She was talking about vaccine clinics. I couldn't fill out the volunteer form fast enough.

My motivation? Me. 100% pure, selfish me.

I had to get out of my house and be among the peoples. As an extrovert in an introverted household, COVID has been parched. Being part of the action and around people I don't already know sounded like heaven. The vaccine clinics have filled a dinner party-sized hole in my life.

I'm also a great volunteer. I'm enthusiastic and friendly. I take direction and do what I'm told. My schedule is flexible so I'm available. I can talk to anyone and handle stress. I recruit friends. I bring muffins. I serve.

People have told me how grateful they are for my service, and at first I felt a little guilty because I knew I was there for the socializing.

Then it dawned on me. Both things can be true. In fact, self-interest and service are the perfect pairing.

Service is easier when you feel like you have skin in the game. It's more fun. You're more motivated. You are free from any sense of martyrdom or self-importance which keeps your eye on the prize - socializing service.

As your world starts to open to include a wider view, where can you pair your self-interest with service?

It's a lot of fun.