What Really Matters


What really matters is not what kind of car you drive.

Or if you choose to walk everywhere you go.

It’s not what size you are or the density of your muscle mass.

It’s not where you live.

It’s not whether you stick to your diet and exercise daily.

It’s not your corner office, your job title or how well you play office politics.

The color of your hair, the size of your bank account, the desirable location of your second home?

None of this really matters.

What does really matter, then?

How you love.

Who you love.

The times we remember our whole lives are the times we loved deeply – even if we were sleeping on the floor with our family, lit by candles because there was no money for electricity or water, and only a little bit for food.

Those lean times are the moments which bond us.

Maybe because those are the times we are especially grateful for the little things. And the big things, too.

The big things like that we loved. That we were connected. That we took care of one another. Looked out for one another.

You and I know in our hearts that this is what really matters.

And you and I know that sometimes we need to re-center in love in order to re-center in our lives.

Watch this, and see what really matters in action. Watch this, and re-center:

“Pardon me.”

bigstock-candle-in-a-hand-19600874

 

Some weeks a theme starts to appear among the people I’m working with. And when I become aware that different people all around the world are wrestling with the same thing, I sit up and take notice.

They don’t know it – they don’t even know each other – but they have same kind of struggle. They use the same words to describe the places they’re in. The lament the same energy lost and wasted. The share the same weariness, and worry.

So it was this week that the common topic was forgiveness.

“Should I have forgiven for what was done?” California asked. Atlanta wanted to know, “Can I be forgiven for what I did?” New England asked, “Is repair possible?” From Texas: “Is all hope lost?”

I’m guessing, then, that forgiveness is probably on your mind, too. So I thought I would give you something I wrote a few years ago for National Poetry Month – in the hope that it will help:

I FORGIVE

I forgive.

I forgive myself. I said stupid things, did stupid things.

More than once. [Much more than once.]

I did not understand then. I understand now.

I understand the why. I understand the how.

And I understand who I need to be today.

Right now.

Here.

With you.

 

I forgive you for all of your errors. Even if they caused me pain.

[The suffering was my choice.]

Oh, you had demons.

And demons had you.

Maybe still do.

I honor the lessons I’ve learned.

So I forgive you. And I can even thank you.

[Who would have ever thought that?]

 

I forgive us, for all the times we think we can heal the whole big planet.

Without first looking to heal ourselves.

I forgive us for our collective fascination with the unimportant [news that isn't news, manufactured drama, featureless fads].

How we let them control our emotions, building a mounting tsunami of anxiety.

I forgive us for allowing ourselves to be swept away.

[And failing to keep an eye on what's really important.]

[Which is love.]

 

Oh, it’s forgiveness we need. The whole big planet of us.

We know how.

And we know who.

[It's us. To each other. For each other.]

Let’s not make the past hurts present.

Let’s not let them drive our days.

Let’s acknowledge the pain (it’s real) and allow ourselves the grace to be better (now).

 

Can you forgive?

Who Learned Most?

 

 

I don’t know if any of you have ever stood at the front of the room, with a group of learners seated before you. I don’t know if you’ve ever stood there, realizing that they are all looking to you. For guidance. For direction. For knowledge.

Don’t know if you’ve shared this teaching moment as a part of a team – a team of people who are really smart, and wise, and committed to their craft.

I don’t know if you’ve seen the moment when the lightbulb comes on and a learner becomes a knower.

Or witnessed that moment when individual learners shift into groups of friends, who support each other.

I don’t know that you have, but I hope you will someday.

Because that’s what I’ve had this weekend at the Revenue Rocks program, and the way I’m feeling today? Can’t be beat.

I feel proud.

And accomplished.

And wowed.

And humbled.

My heart is full to the bursting, knowing that people who rolled into DC for this event not knowing what was next for them and for their businesses…now know.

They had forgotten what they really do best, and how to bring those gifts to the world. But now? Now, oh now they know for sure.

And they have a plan. Or make that “plans”. And they’re going to do stuff. Really do stuff.

They are going to change lives.

And to tell you the truth, this morning I’m feeling that the first life they have changed is mine.

Thank you, Dixie St. John, for the logistical support, and the heart.

Thank you, Kelly Pratt, for the workbook design.

Deep gratitude and thanks to Jeannette Maw, Fabeku Fatunmise and Nona Jordan, who brought insights, perspectives, know-how and tenderness to their teaching, and whose synergy was a thing of beauty.

And sincere thanks to every individual in that room, who showed up. Who risked. Who dared. Who imagined. Who planned. Your vision and intention are breath-taking.

For those not in the room, let me leave you with a few questions and perhaps you can launch a part of your journey today, along with all the Revenue Rocks folks. Ready?

Who are you at your best? What does that tell you about what needs to happen next? What would feel fun and effortless to do right now?

OK – go.

 

Interdependence Day

When dusk settles in on the evening of July 4th and you’re in that wonderful anticipating lull before the fireworks start, take a minute and remember what people across the U.S. are actually celebrating.

Independence Day.

But you could also call it Interdependence Day.

Because who are we as a nation if we didn’t depend on firefighters who step into burning buildings to save lives?

And police officers who come to the firefighters’ homes if anything is amiss?

And teachers who educate the children of firefighters and police officers?

Of course, teachers, firefighters and police officers count on doctors to help them when they’re sick.

And doctors couldn’t do their work without nurses and techs and paperwork people.

Can we agree that we need grocery store cashiers and even the high school kids who stock the shelves?

What about the men and women who fill the potholes, and the engineers who make sure bridges are safe?

Then there are the craftsmen who make furniture for our houses.

And for them, power company executives who make decisions which guarantee that the craftsmen will have the energy they need to run the lathes.

And, believe it or not, we have honest, dependable, smart people making sound public policy decisions which allow the power company to do its job.

Sometimes these people are called “politicians” or “civil servants” – much maligned, certainly, but I know many of them… and the best share a deep, profound commitment to our country.

There are others, too, with a deep appreciation of our country. Who are we as a nation if we didn’t depend on the men and women who choose to serve in harm’s way as airmen, sailors, soldiers and Marines?

They choose to serve. And many of them give the last full measure of devotion so we can live free.

Kind of like the founders of our nation.

Yes, it’s important to be yourself, and focused on your own life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness.

But Thomas Jefferson, John Adams and Benjamin Franklin knew about interdependence. I imagine it was on his mind when Franklin said at the signing of the Declaration of Independence:

“We must all hang together, or assuredly we shall all hang separately.”

You know, I’ve read that the ultimate expression of spiritual enlightenment is the realization that every individual on the planet is connected to every other individual on the planet. That we are independent individuals yet interdependent people.

You know that’s true. See, we all live it every day in a million ways, even if we’re not conscious of it. We depend on teachers and soldiers and cops and firefighters and doctors and engineers and politicians and civil servants and executives and craftsmen and millions of other people in our daily lives. And they, in turn, depend on us in some way.

We are all connected.

On July 4th, by the light of the rockets’ red glare, let’s remember that truth, shall we? And let’s truly celebrate what it means to be free.

[photo credit: Michele Woodward]

The Ties That Bind

It’s a big change you’re making in your life.  A step into the unknown.  A moment of redefinition.

People are telling you what it is you’re supposed to be doing.  And you’re not quite sure – you’ve been doing this thing for so long.  Can you do something new now?

What if you don’t like it? What if you change your mind? Will it be hard to find a new meaning? A new purpose?

Can you really do this?

Know what I think? I think: Yes, you can.

It will be hard, but you will do it.

And it will be what you make it.  So make it what you want.

Stay true to yourself.

Play to your strengths.  Which include integrity, insight and a wicked sense of humor. And a connected circle of deeply loyal family, friends and supporters.

You know this.

Sure, you are leaving one sure thing and going to another unsure thing, but you’re not alone. You’ve got people, my friend.

And these are the ties that bind. And they will bind to you regardless of your job title, or how you spend your day, or where you go.

If you let them, it’s your people that will guide you through to your next great thing.  Because I have a hunch that there is a next great thing out there for you, just waiting to be discovered.

What an amazing, life-changing prospect.

You’re a modern day Magellan, charting your own course. On a fantastic voyage of discovery.

Go on, then. Make your mark. Write your history. I’ll be right here, cheering you on every step of the way.

***

Good response to this post I wrote for Psychology Today.  If you struggle with delegating, take a quick read. I wonder if the client who inspired this will recognize herself…