There is a curse high-achievers are well acquainted with:  when we’re stalled on a project, we dig in our heels and respond by…grinding even harder.

Butt-in-seat and GET.IT.DONE!

(Kind of like some of those back-to-the-office policies flying around recently…)

You’d think after years of my own high-achiever-ism, and more years of helping others see through and beyond theirs, I would be well aware of this default and an expert at sidestepping it…

Made popular in 80’s corporate culture (and subsequent office-cliché movies and shows), we’ve all heard that line “Have your people call my people”.  A line usually delivered with a smirk by a self-important suit to someone who rolls their eyes.

It was funny then, but it might also have been a wild premonition.  Fast forward several decades and here we are at the next iteration.  Instead of the suit talking about people, we have hoodies and vests talking about bots.

Soon the saying will be:  “Have your bot call my bot”…

You know that feeling when the proverbial lightning strikes and you’re super motivated and energetic, getting stuff done right and left, knocking each thing out of the park?

Yeah, me neither…

Just kidding.  Although it is definitely one of those infrequent circumstances that we think – and hope – will happen a LOT more often than actually does.

It feels lucky when that energy is bestowed upon us but since we can’t wait around hoping it magically appears, sometimes we have to create our own energy…

I remember summers as a kid.  It’s almost entirely sense memory now, with only a few clear snapshots of actual events or experiences left intact.  I remember the feel of my bare feet on hot pavement, the cool splash of pool water, playing in the street into the evening (we lived on a cul-de-sac), the warm breeze that rolled up the hill we lived on.

Even just a few extra degrees of warmth this past week kicked all of those memories awake again.

Summer happens every year, so it’s not exactly summer itself that I feel nostalgic for (although I do love the long days, temperate weather, and ample excuses to spend more time outside).  It’s the feeling of life in summer, way back then, that I miss with that particular kind of sweet longing.

The stakes felt so wonderfully small…

I was on a road trip with friends recently and stopped at a VERY fancy gas station store.  Not your typical 400 square feet of chips and soda, but it almost a supermarket sized shop and filled with all kinds of goodies.

Road trips are when I indulge in my guilty pleasures.  It’s when I get the kinds of snacks I don’t normally buy at home.  And I eat them gleefully like a kid who got extra cookies out of the cookie jar without anyone noticing.

I’ve been having a lot of conversations with friends recently about health and wellness.  We often share what we do and while we each have some uniqueness to our rhythms and habits, it generally includes components related to what we eat, how much sleep we get, hydration, and exercise.  And while my road-trip eating habits aren’t well reflective of how I maintain my health, I’m also reminded:

When it comes to health, there are no secrets.  There are no silver bullets.  There are no shortcuts.  The ways to be in good health are widely known – they just may not be the things we WANT to do (like avoiding guilty pleasure treats…)…

We live in pretty wild times when it comes to the abilities and facilities we have with modern advancements and conveniences, and it seems to accelerate with each passing moment.

Things that used to be laborious or tedious or onerous to do have become accomplishable with the click of a button (or a simple voice command).  Common discomforts have gone by the wayside.

I’m not one to eschew things that make my life easier or more convenient, but I have been finding myself recently going in the opposite direction on occasion in order to slow down and have a different (and certainly less efficient) experience…

I went on a girls’ weekend with a friend who is probably my most worldly friend.  I always learn a ton from her when we hang out, and this time I came away with a new delicious phrase:

Hurkle durkle.

When she said it (“I slept great and had a hurkle durkle”), I giggled and thought I either misheard or she was making a silly sound for morning ablutions 😂

Little did I know, it would become not only my favorite sounding phrase for the weekend but a sweet mindset shift…

As someone who makes their living as a coach, I probably shouldn’t say this…but I am SO OVER the word PURPOSE and relentless focus and glorification of finding your purpose! or living your purpose!

[insert the most intense teenage eyeroll you can imagine]

With the rise of coaching and self-development (yes, two realms I love and feel are deeply important), purpose has been elevated to feel like the pinnacle of your life’s focus – as if everything else you do is just filler until you find it.

Well I disagree…

I’ve been in a bit of a creative slump recently.  While that was certainly influenced by being sick as a dog for a couple weeks, it’s mostly just been a muddy slog in creativity-land.

I tried the usual things – get outside in the fresh air and move around, read a book, listen to some new podcast episodes, call a friend, get immersed in small projects that allow my mind to wander…but nothing really shifted.

We all know there are peaks and valleys to things.  Times when things are up and times when things are down.  There’s a saying I think of in those valley times that offers some comfort:  This too shall pass…

Probably a lot of us grew up hearing this phrase:

What’s the worst that could happen?

Usually it’s said rather casually or even in an off-hand way, indicating that the possible negative outcomes of an action are probably not bad enough not to do the thing.

But there’s a deeper dive here that is actually extremely useful in those times where we hold ourselves back from taking action – to truly consider what our worst fear is…

Every year for Easter, we gather at my aunt’s house in central California.  While the specific agenda of the weekend have shifted over time, the main themes have remained:  time together, talking over good food, resting, and relaxing.

It’s also a unique weekend and a little oasis for a specific reason:  there is no TV service or internet.

Yes, you read that right…

When I worked in my corporate job years ago, I used to dream of freedom.  Freedom to decide my own hours, to decide what projects I made, to decide (aka be the final approver) of when I take time off…it seemed like a vast utopia of delight and joy.

Actually, I was probably dreaming of freedom long before that.  Freedom to stay up as late as I wanted, to eat sweets whenever I wanted, to watch whatever I wanted on TV.  Funny the freedom you dream about as a kid – when later in life you end up being naturally more restrictive than the rules ever were as a kid (for the record, I can barely stay awake until 10pm, I limit my sweets more than my parents ever did, and I barely watch TV, usually opting for a book).

The thing about freedom, though, is that the ultimate version of it – with no bounds whatsoever – actually leaves you floating out in an abyss.  You may feel untethered, but you may also feel ungrounded...

Last week I visited Austin, Texas, to meet up with friends to venture to a bookstore we were all really excited to see (that’s for another post).  Naturally the trip included other adventures around Austin – getting BBQ, sampling multiple ice cream shops, seeing the bats fly out from underneath the Congress bridge at sunset, meandering through parks…just enjoying the city in all its loveliness.

On one of our leisurely strolls through a park, we saw on the map that there was a labyrinth and decided to wander over to it.  Most labyrinths I’ve seen are shaped with large rocks in a gravel or dirt area.  This one was simply made of two colors of stone – gray and pink – to delineate the path and the edges.  My friend and I exchanged a look that said – OK, let’s do this!

And off we went...

There are several people I follow who talk about “choosing your pain”.  Which, in its essence, boils down decision-making to choosing which outcome and its consequences that you can best live with.  Every decision we make has an outcome, and every kind of outcome has pros and cons (and those cons include pain).  Hence…whatever choice you make, with the expected associated outcome, has pain.  So we are, therefore, choosing our pain with any given choice we make.

So I started to wonder – why do we think there is some choice that avoids pain entirely?...

Remember the days of “book reports”?  I love to read, and have since I was probably mid-elementary school, but I remember the days of having to give reports on books, and often they weren’t ones I was all that interested in.

Nowadays, though, I usually can’t shut up about whatever I am reading and what I’m learning from it.  Oh, how times have changed.

Last month, I read a philosophical book about time and how we regard it called Four Thousand Weeks by Oliver Burkeman.  There are dozens of nuggets throughout the book that have kept me thinking since I read it, but one of them was top of mind on a recent Friday as things were winding down for the week...

You know that moment when you’re thinking about a project and you get a flash of energy, curiosity, and inspiration?  It’s what happens right before you run to your computer or your workspace or your notebook and dive in, losing time into the flow of the thing that has captured your focus.

And it’s so delicious when that happens.

But oddly, I have noticed this other weird phenomenon that can happen right after that flash.  It’s when I talk myself out of it.  When I think, “Oh, that’s a great idea, I should work on that later when I have a proper amount of time to sit down and really get into it for as long as I need or want to.”

And nothing kills the mood like procrastinative pragmatism (my new made-up phrase)...

Many moons ago, a mentor of mine asked me a simple question about an issue I had brought to her for counsel:

Is it a skill issue or a will issue?

I had never considered this lens before in first defining the core of an issue before problem-solving for it.

A skill issue means there is a deficit in our actual ability to do something.  A will issue means there is a deficit in our desire to do something.  Figuring out the true deficit is the most crucial first step in working through something because treating one issue like the other is not only setting us up for failure but also inviting a LOT of frustration...

I went to an event last month where we welcomed in the new year with things we were shedding and were invited to write ourselves “love notes” that would be sent to us later on.

Like a good little participant, I did as I was invited.

I decided I would write myself a note the way I would write one to a friend, telling them the wonderful things about themself that I would want them to know that they might not hear otherwise.  I decided to think as clearly and honestly about myself as I could – not overly critical and not overly humble.  But about the things that define me, the ways I consistently show up, the things that matter to me.

And I wrote myself my first love note...

In our culture, we make a big deal about goals.  Setting goals, monitoring goals, achieving goals.  Goals can be a great way to keep our eyes on the horizon, to focus our gaze and direction.

Goals also get all the glory.

But do you know what gets little to no recognition as they work quietly, consistently, fastidiously in the background?...

Back when I started my business and created my website (yes, I designed and built the very first version myself!), I made a space for a blog and I thought, oh good, a place to put all my big, important thoughts about things! 😂

And in the first five years I wrote about a dozen posts.

(When were all those big important thoughts gonna show up??!)

Five years ago, I decided to commit to posting once a week.  Given my track record, this seems rather ridiculous in hindsight.

But here I am, five years later and, aside from summer and winter breaks, I have posted every single week of those five years.  And it feels like a real milestone...