“Is It Fun?”

 

A few months ago, I made a commitment to myself to start doing the Washington Post crossword every morning. I thought it would be good for my brain, and to up the ante, I made a few rules.

You know me: Michele Woodward, Rules Girl [when you know the rules, you also know how to bend them. I am just saying.]. Here are my crossword puzzle rules:

Rule 1:  Use only pen.

Rule 2:  Take only 15 minutes.

Rule 3:  If I’m not done in 15 minutes, drop it.

Five times out of six, I complete the puzzle under the rules. Which is surprisingly fulfilling. Ups my general Happy Quotient, if you want to know the truth.

And, there are one or two things I have learned from this exercise:

A. My intuition about a word is almost always right (except the other day, when the clue was “John Paul II, e.g.”  I wrote “POPE” when the answer turned out to be “POLE”. Ah, well.)

B. Sometimes an Across word is best solved by looking at the Down words that make it up

C. Challenges can be fun

That’s right, funLook at me – I used the f-word.

Maybe you were raised with that wonderful work ethic that says “anything worth doing has to be hard”, which leads quite handily toward “work is hard, fun is frivolous; ergo, no fun for you, bucko”.

So you equate fun with anything but work.

Fun is tubing down the river with a cooler of beer trailing behind you.

Fun is a yo-yo tournament.

Fun is running a marathon (except for that pesky mile 21 where everything gets a little wobbly and you wonder where the fun is. The fun comes at mile 26.375, baby).

Work is a grind. Work is hyper-competitive. Work is eat-what-you-kill, dog-eat-dog, scarcity thinking writ large.

Fun and work, therefore, can never be equal.

But maybe think about it this way: work is just a challenge.

And crossword puzzles are challenges, right?

And some challenges can be fun and rewarding, and even fulfilling.

Especially if you know the rules and work within them. Kinda.

So, if my math is right, work can be fun and fulfilling if you turn the grind into a a kind of game, and you create some rules for yourself – rules you stick to.

[You may have heard of this idea of rules before. We also call these "boundaries".]

Such as:  “I will not work on weekends.”

“I won’t waste a minute in malicious office gossip.”

“If something doesn’t go my way, I will drop it and move on rather than obsess, stew and fret.”

These are just some of mine. Just like using a pen to complete the crossword in less than 15 minutes.

You have a choice, too. You can make your own rules.

Really.

Start by asking yourself, “Is this thing I’m doing fun?” And if the answer is no, then figure out a way to make it fun. Make it a game.

Your game.

And I’m thinking you’re going to win because you made up the rules.

You winner, you.

 

How To Change Anything

 

Take the thing.

Turn it round.

This way.

Then that.

Clear your mind.

See it.

Notice.

Breathe.

Allow it to transform before your eyes.

Into Something.

Something else.

Something new.

Something magical.

That changes everything

For the good.

 

 

$62,000

 

Let’s just say you have a story going on in your head. A story something like, “I am terrible with money.” Or, maybe, “Money scares the bejeezus out of me.”

Maybe you inherited some fears about money from your mother, your father, your auntie, your granddad who struggled with money. Or didn’t talk about money. Or argued about money.

Thanks to them, and to your own experiences, you developed a story about what money is, and what money does, and who you are because of money.

Let’s say you ferociously hold on to that story – for years and years – because somehow, some way, it reinforces a much larger story:

“I’m not good enough.”

This is the story my client Elle* has been struggling with. She has her own business, and a mortgage, and a sheer terror about making financial mistakes. Because, of course, mistakes mean you’re not perfect and if you’re not perfect, you’re:

Not good enough.

Recently, as a opportunity for my Club members, Elle had a chance to do The Unstuck Process and money proved to be her biggest sticking place.

But “money” is a pretty huge category, so we took it down to the smallest, itty-bitty-est thing about her money that was a problem. Know what it was?

Ten months of unopened mail.

Ten months of envelopes that promised peril. A mountain of mail that told Elle where she had screwed up. Another place she was:

Not good enough.

To get unstuck, to prove her story wrong once and for all, Elle had to tackle that pile of pain.

We discussed the why, and the how, and the threat to her future if she didn’t do anything – that’s a vital part of The Unstuck Process. I asked her to envision her money stuck-ness continuing for two more years -  “OMG,” she blurted. Which was precisely the motivation she needed to get going. Elle left the call focused and determined. I was happy, and hopeful for her.

With Elle’s permission, the recording of our coaching session was distributed to all the Club members. And it resonated with them. Resonated so much, that one member wrote a blog post about her own struggles with mail, and money. Of course, I forwarded the post to Elle, to buck her up.

Bucked up she was, indeed. She wrote me:

“So last night I started to sort through 10 months of unopened mail. 10 months. I needed to stop every 10 minutes or so and go back and read Susan’s* blog post, just to lessen my anxiety and regain the courage to keep going. But I did keep going. I got it all sorted into 3 big piles:  Business; Personal; Trash. I didn’t pressure myself to open any envelopes. Last night’s step was just to get the stuff sorted.”

Great approach. Gentle, positive baby steps.

“This morning I went through the Business pile and opened several envelopes. There were two overdue bills, which I have now paid, and included a little note in each telling the recipient how much I appreciated their patience. I also opened envelopes from clients – that contained $62,000 in checks. $62,000. I just finished filling out the deposit slip. My head is still reeling. I am sure that there are some ugly surprises in there as well… but I’ve made a start. And I am going to continue moving forward, one envelope at a time. Whatever is in there can (and will) be dealt with…  but I know that I wouldn’t have started had it not been for your support. I have finally reached a point where I realize that I don’t need to explain myself for the mistakes I’ve made. I just need to make them right.”

Sixty-two thousand dollars.

Sixty-two thousand dollars.

Holy moly.

Sitting right there, in shopping bags stashed in the closet. For ten months.

What a discovery – her fears about money had even prevented her from receiving money.

Her actions had created exactly the situation she feared. Funny how that works.

But she’s done with all that now:

“So I wanted to say thank you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for showing me how to gently and lovingly move forward. Thank you for showing me that there are alternatives to ripping myself to shreds over what I’ve done (or haven’t done, as the case may be). Thank you for helping me to see that I’m not some kind of financial leper that will never be ‘cured.’ Thank you for shining a light on my wiser self… and reminding me that she’s there and accessible 24/7. Thank you for believing I can do it.”

Sometimes people are skeptical about coaching. “What’s the return on investment?” they ask. Well, in Elle’s case, it’s pretty simple. She invested $594 in nine months of Club coaching, and returned a whopping $62,000 in found money. And the prospect of a happy, healthy relationship with money going forward.

I am just saying.

[Just saying, I am so very proud of her.]

*Client names are always

changed for privacy purposes

 

 

Can’t Go Back

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

See this picture?  This was a great day.  A day when I was at my best. A day when I was surrounded by friends, doing something important, using all my skills.

And as much as I might like to, I can never go back.

The day was January 20, 1989.  The group picture above, from left to right – Kathleen, Bobby, Ashley, Rick, Mark, me – were the White House staff assigned to execute President and Mrs. Reagan’s departure from Andrews Air Force base, back to California and private life.  Just over my shoulder in this shot, you can see the Presidential aircraft.  The little white pin each of us are wearing?  The White House Staff pin, issued by the Secret Service, which meant we had all-access, everywhere.

It was a great day.  And a day of much change.  That morning, I woke as a member of the White House staff.  I was 28 years old, had no gray hair, and no children.  What I did have were badges, and pins, and credentials that could get me anywhere I wanted to go.  That day, I put my White House-issued radio on my hip, inserted my earpiece in my left ear and went to do my job.

And did it well.

And at precisely 12:01pm that Friday, a new President was sworn in and I was out of a job.

None of my badges, pins or credentials mattered. At 12:01pm I had no office to go to.  No work to do.  No special status.

I was just me.  Really good at my job, and unemployed.

Sometimes things change in a flash, don’t they?

In the subsequent years, I’d look at this picture and long to go back to this day, to these people.  Especially these people.  Because our team was so good at our work, and we never had the chance to do it again. Not in that configuration. Not for that President. Not at the White House. Not at Andrews.

And I want to go back for another reason, too.   Ashley lost her husband suddenly in 1998, and then we lost Kathleen in 1999 to ovarian cancer. Rick’s wife Pam died in 2007. Bobby’s in New York, I mostly see Mark on TV, Rick travels the world, Ashley is out in California.   This moment frozen in time – when we were young, we were healthy, we were so good at what we did – represents a time that was unimaginably precious. I only realized how precious much later.

Loving that time, and loving who I was then is an awareness which points me toward greater understanding of who I am at my best.  That’s the greatest gift of the past.

But now I know, as wonderful as it was:

I cannot go back because it the past only exists in memories.

You can’t go back.  This picture captures just one moment in time, and maybe the past is simply a series of moments in time.  Which by the time you note them, have already elapsed.

With so much turmoil and tumult in the world today, many of us are casting our minds back and saying things like, “I wish I still had that job.”  Or, “I never should have left that job.” Or cataloging a lifetime of “mistakes”.   I must hear it every week.  That job you loved and left?  Let me ask you this: Who’s still there? Has the mission changed? Have you changed? Is it really the same? Could it possibly be the same? Is anything the same about the time and place… and you?

No, because the precise alignment of people and place and time and mission and purpose is fleeting.

It’s like some wonderful experiment where a drop of Bobby plus an ounce of Kathleen and a measure of Ashley and a dollop of Rick and a helping of Mark and me yielded magic.  Pure magic.  True excellence.

Which is the real thing I loved about that time and place and people.

When I seek that – that one true thing – in what I’m doing now, then the magic can truly be replicated.  Anew.  Right now.  Today.

Perhaps you can learn from your longing for the past.  What’s it tell you about what you miss?  Who were you at your best, at that time of your life?  And what does that tell you that you need more of right now?

 

The Ins and Outs of Redefinition

pictures pre-2002 021




I have always held that the most challenging times of our lives come when we face redefining ourselves.

Like when we go from being a high schooler to being a college student.

From being a college student to being employed.

Or employed by someone else to employed by ourselves.

Or from being single to being married. Or being married to being divorced.  Or widowed.

From being a kid’s mom or dad, to being an adult’s mom or dad.

From being healthy to being sick. From being sick to being healthy again.

These are the moments that vex us, because we’re required to think about who we are and who we want to be.

And it always comes just at the moment where we’ve gotten so damn comfortable with who we were.

I know you know what I’m talking about.

Often, where people get stuck is in letting go of the old, comfortable definition and making room for the new way of thinking about themselves.

It’s kinda like a special sort of roller coaster – the kind where you only ride once.  Ever gotten off a roller coaster and said, “Well, that was fun,” never intending to ride it again?  That’s like life.

You can’t go back and ride high school again.

Or college.

Or your 20s. 30s. 40s. 50s. 100s.

You get one ride. And it has plenty of twists and turns. And before you know it, you’re not where you started.

You’re somewhere new.

Allow yourself to grow, and change, and redefine.  Welcome change in all its magnificent uncertainty.

If you let it, it’ll be one hell of a ride.