It was a very cute dress with perfect pockets and I’m sad to say goodbye to it.  After a half hour of stuckness inside of the dress from an inoperable zipper, I finally set the funeral date to release it from it’s  misery.  When the zipper on the side, which spans from my hip up to the widest part of my ribcage, became stuck half way up I quickly realized that no amount of ‘sucking it in’ would redeem the situation. I tried to squeeze out of it but that didn’t work.  I tried laying on the floor to shift my contents to seem smaller than they are and that didn’t work.  I tried to twist the dress around so i could work the zipper from a different angle and that didn’t work either.  I was officially stuck.

Being stuck can have it’s benefits.  It can make you feel like you don’t have any choice. It can make you think that you just have to respond to what’s been inflicted on you.  It can make you feel like you’re a victim of your environment so you don’t have to take any real ownership.  It can play tricks on your mind so that you think you don’t have anymore options.

But you do have more options.

You always have options.   A wise friend reminds me in my worse off moments,

“You are in a position of GREAT choice.“

That’s how she says it too: GREAT choice.   Meaning the bulk of my situation is actually my response to what the world puts on me.

You can choose to stay and fight the zipper that’s gone AWOL.
You can cut yourself out of the dress.
You can cover up the broken part with a nice sweater.
You can find a friend to try a different angle.
You can keep trying the same thing.
You always have choices.

For the record, I stayed and fought the zipper.  Eventually the zipper released it’s jagged ant-sized piranha teeth and I climbed out of the dress mostly unscathed (finger blister was quite small).

I have this responsibly at work that I’ve self selected to hate.  It’s public, it’s uncomfortable and it’s time consuming work.  It’s putting myself ‘out there’ in a world that seems full of opinions and judgements. I realize this responsibility isn’t actually the big-foot-smelly-monster-size that I’ve worked it up to be in my head (…and not the Harry and the Hendersons version either).  It’s a simple interview on camera about mostly interesting leadership stuff.

Somewhere along the way we get to choose a path of safety and settling or courage and challenge.  I should have seen this coming.  Everything in my unemotional, practical, work hard up bringing has brought me to this point where I have to choose what path I want to do life on.

John Maeda said, “The computer will do anything within it’s abilities, but it will do nothing unless commanded to do so.”

People can operate beyond their abilities, beyond what’s comfortable, and beyond what’s apparent on the outside. When I see people who live that way I sometimes look at them with lust, longing for the impractical life of giving into tiny whispers that lie deep within a soul. Other times, I look at people who live that kind of creative life and want to cheer them on- Go YOU–you sexy artist!  I see people who live life slightly different and I love it.  They have made choices based on their actual gifts and skills and not just the world’s version of success.  Their success looks different.  And I think- if they do it differently-why cant I? But there’s a side of me that wants to hide under a rock, or my desk, or under my bed with the clumps of dust bunnies and lost socks.

That’s the crossroads that I’m at.

We all come to a place where we have to decide if we’re going to push forward…
…despite the inevitable hassle-filled pressure
…despite the perceived (or real) judgement
…despite what the world thinks.

Unlike a computer, we can operate beyond our abilities and beyond the commands of others.  Somedays I just wish all of us felt more gusto to take the path that leads to a place of sweet joy from doing what we think we cannot do.

Here’s to you, you sexy artist!

I have this responsibly at work that I’ve self selected to hate.  It’s public, it’s uncomfortable and it’s time consuming work.  It’s putting myself ‘out there’ in a world that seems full of opinions and judgements. I realize this responsibility isn’t actually the big-foot-smelly-monster-size that I’ve worked it up to be in my head (…and not the Harry and the Hendersons version either).  It’s a simple interview on camera about mostly interesting leadership stuff.

Somewhere along the way we get to choose a path of safety and settling or courage and challenge.  I should have seen this coming.  Everything in my unemotional, practical, work hard up bringing has brought me to this point where I have to choose what path I want to do life on.

John Maeda said, “The computer will do anything within it’s abilities, but it will do nothing unless commanded to do so.”

People can operate beyond their abilities, beyond what’s comfortable, and beyond what’s apparent on the outside. When I see people who live that way I sometimes look at them with lust, longing for the impractical life of giving into tiny whispers that lie deep within a soul. Other times, I look at people who live that kind of creative life and want to cheer them on- Go YOU–you sexy artist!  I see people who live life slightly different and I love it.  They have made choices based on their actual gifts and skills and not just the world’s version of success.  Their success looks different.  And I think- if they do it differently-why cant I? But there’s a side of me that wants to hide under a rock, or my desk, or under my bed with the clumps of dust bunnies and lost socks.

That’s the crossroads that I’m at.

We all come to a place where we have to decide if we’re going to push forward…
…despite the inevitable hassle-filled pressure
…despite the perceived (or real) judgement
…despite what the world thinks.

Unlike a computer, we can operate beyond our abilities and beyond the commands of others.  Somedays I just wish all of us felt more gusto to take the path that leads to a place of sweet joy from doing what we think we cannot do.

Here’s to you, you sexy artist!

Some days feel simple like life adds up to a choice. Choice after choice.

Choose to be happy.

Choose to engage.

Choose to believe the best.

Choose to trust.

Choose to move even when you’d rather vanish in a puff of smoke and enter a new story anonymously.  Poof! In this fantasy I think about to entering the story in a hero kind of way.

But running to a new story is just the evidence of fear taking over the hypothalamus part of my brain.  It’s giving up on one narrative half way through and running to the next.  Fight or flight.  And that flight doesn’t feel very hero-like.  In the moment it feels like it’s saving me. And it might be on some days.  On other days it might be holding me back.

I have to remind myself to choose to trust and let others fully know me.  This seems like such a fundamental lesson to learn.  I can’t help but wonder- how many of us are in the same place. The place where trust and loving others well is a choice that doesn’t come so naturally. It comes with squeaky wheels, buttons missing, and duck tape holding it together.  I think that’s what vulnerability looks like: a duck tape patch work project.

To trust others is to give up having to know it all, to let go of maintaining a posture of control, and to allow yourself to fully connect with another human.  Even though there’s scary in that, there’s also beauty in it.  I don’t think there’s a 12-step process or any kind of great leadership lessons on how to do this.  It’s just a choice.  Choose to step towards connection.

Enjoy your simple day of choices that draw you closer to the one you’re with–whoever is on your agenda for the day.

Some days feel simple like life adds up to a choice. Choice after choice.

Choose to be happy.

Choose to engage.

Choose to believe the best.

Choose to trust.

Choose to move even when you’d rather vanish in a puff of smoke and enter a new story anonymously.  Poof! In this fantasy I think about to entering the story in a hero kind of way.

But running to a new story is just the evidence of fear taking over the hypothalamus part of my brain.  It’s giving up on one narrative half way through and running to the next.  Fight or flight.  And that flight doesn’t feel very hero-like.  In the moment it feels like it’s saving me. And it might be on some days.  On other days it might be holding me back.

I have to remind myself to choose to trust and let others fully know me.  This seems like such a fundamental lesson to learn.  I can’t help but wonder- how many of us are in the same place. The place where trust and loving others well is a choice that doesn’t come so naturally. It comes with squeaky wheels, buttons missing, and duck tape holding it together.  I think that’s what vulnerability looks like: a duck tape patch work project.

To trust others is to give up having to know it all, to let go of maintaining a posture of control, and to allow yourself to fully connect with another human.  Even though there’s scary in that, there’s also beauty in it.  I don’t think there’s a 12-step process or any kind of great leadership lessons on how to do this.  It’s just a choice.  Choose to step towards connection.

Enjoy your simple day of choices that draw you closer to the one you’re with–whoever is on your agenda for the day.