Thursday, December 27, 2007

I Did It!!!

My parents have been divorced for 20 years, and not long ago I had two separate visits from them.

Strangely enough, both of them at some point during their visit described me as having a particular characteristic that I never would have used to describe myself--goal oriented.

My mom was the first one to say it, and I just kind of let it slide. But when my dad said it on a later visit, I stopped him and said, "That's so funny that you say that--Mom said the same thing when she was here, and I just don't think of myself that way."

So he went on to tell me how when I was a little girl I would get something in my mind that I wanted to do and that I would not stop until I had done it. "Look at everything you've done in your life," he said. "You set out to do something and you do it. That's the way you've always been."

I suppose I can see where he is coming from.

I wanted to work at Sea World when I was in high school, and I did it (despite the fact that I lived in Oregon and Sea World was in California). I wanted to go to college in San Diego, and I did it (even writing a letter of appeal to the Dean when I didn't get in the college I wanted). I wanted to go to Europe, and I did it (when an unexpected gift fell in my hands). I wanted to move to Washington, D.C., and I did it (despite having no job and not knowing a soul). I wanted to become an actress and singer, and I did it (and I have the reviews to prove it). I wanted to get married, have kids, and be a stay at home mom, and I did it.

I would definitely characterize myself as driven--but why do I feel like I have never been goal oriented?

I think it's because I never wrote them down.

Phil Keoghan, famous as the host of TV's The Amazing Race, talked to us at our latest conference in Cancun, about having a "list for life"--a list of all the things you want to accomplish before you die. There is even a new movie out now called The Bucket List, about two men to make a list of things they want to do before they "kick the bucket."

Until my Beyond Freedom, I never had a list like that.

There is an urban legend--one of those "motivational" emails that get passed around--about the Yale class of 1953. Laurence Tabak, of Fast Company magazine writes:

The story, as told by consultants, goes like this: In 1953, researchers surveyed Yale's graduating seniors to determine how many of them had specific, written goals for their future. The answer: 3%. Twenty years later, researchers polled the surviving members of the Class of 1953 -- and found that the 3% with goals had accumulated more personal financial wealth than the other 97% of the class combined!

This story has been told by motivational speakers for years, and I have heard it myself multiple times. Unfortunately, it isn't true.

What is true, however, is the fact that writing down your goals--and telling a friend--makes you more likely to achieve them. This was scientifically proven in a study by Dominican University of California psychology professor Dr. Gail Matthews. And, of course, it is a foundational principle in Beyond Freedom.

So if I am a goal oriented person, like my parents say I am, why is it that I never did this? I've been to the seminars, read the books, listened to the counsel--what was stopping me?

It's simple, really. It's a nasty, four-letter word: fear.

You see, if I have a vague, kind of "someday" goal, and I never achieve it, well, I guess I wasn't very serious. I guess I didn't really want it anyway. But if I have a SMART goal (specific, measureable, achievable, relevant, and time-bound), and I don't achieve it--I am a failure.

And failure is something I just can't abide. (I had a talk with Tony about this very thing a few months ago. I really should read my own blog more often--I learn so much myself from the things I write!)

My Beyond Freedom changed all that, and back in July, I set a goal that has transformed my life: I wanted to be able to run 3 consecutive miles before December 31.

Well, today is December 27, AND I DID IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Mentally, I still can't get my mind around it. I have been going over and over the course in my mind--did I measure right? Was that really 3 miles? Am I sure it wasn't 3 kilometers? Was it really me?

Yes, it really was--it really was.

As we were driving home from the park where I ran, my mom asked me how far I had run. I told her it had been 3 miles and that I had just accomplished a goal I had set for myself. From the backseat, my 7 year old daughter said, "So what's your next goal, mom?"

And that is the power of having a specific goal. The more you set, the more you achieve!

Monday, December 24, 2007

The Quest for Perfection

At this busy time of year, there are lots of things that can stress us out--you don't need me to list them. But I believe there is ONE thing that is at the root of all the others. One thing that, while causing stress all year long, makes the holidays especially stressful. One thing that, if we could just control or eradicate it, would absolutely transform our lives.

My mother is visiting for the holidays, and last week she had the opportunity to join me in my son's Kindergarten classroom as we helped the teacher put on a fun holiday party.

Our job was to help a group of children make cute little reindeer gift bags.

First, the kids had to trace and cut out a big heart that formed the reindeer's face. Next we traced their hands, which they then cut out to glue on as antlers. Finally, they cut out and glued on two eyes and mouth, and the project was complete.

I noticed as we were working that I was helping three children finish their bags for every one child that my mom was helping. Why was that?

I watched closely and discovered that it was because my mom was carefully tracing exactly the child's hand. It was because my mom was correcting the children as they cut so that they would stay on the lines. It was because my mom was showing them the precise placement of the eyes and nose so that it matched the model, rather than letting them decide where each piece should go.

It was because my mom was on a quest for perfection.

As I pondered this experience and looked back at my life and the things that have caused me stress over the years, I realized that this was it. This was the root cause of 80% of my stress. This was what landed me in the hospital. This is what has always made the holidays so stressful.

There is an exercise in Beyond Freedom that asks us to write down the best advice we have ever received. I can't say that perfection was something ever told to me in the form of "advice" (in fact, I can say with 99% surety that my mother would deny ever doing so), but as we all know, actions speak louder than words.

I grew up watching my mother in her constant strive for perfection, and I was rewarded and praised for mine.

But this unyielding drive did not start with my mom--or her mom before her.

Generations upon generations, for more than a thousand years, Christians have been repeating to each other these powerful words of Christ: "Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect." (Matt 5:48)

And for all these years people have been trying, and failing, at this objective.

I remember years ago having a conversation with a friend in which I said, "Well, you know, the best we can do is try." He said to me, "No. Christ didn't say to try to be perfect. He said to BE perfect." Talk about pressure!

It's this kind of mentality, plus an unhealthy dose of supermodels and Martha Stewart (or Donna Reed, for the earlier generation), that make today's American woman one of the most stressed out of creatures in world history.

As I write this, my mom is sitting at the dining room table with my two children helping them decorate gingerbread men. From the other room, I can tell that her voice, and no doubt her blood pressure, is rising with frustration. The children are being too rambunctious, and one of the gingerbread men has broken. The frosting included in the kit that she bought is not up to standard, so she must quickly make some of her own. The kids are eating the candy that is supposed to be reserved for buttons. Things are runny, gooey, and messy, and I hear her say, "My mother would never have had gingerbread men turn out like this."

What can we do? Surely I am not suggesting that Christ was wrong--that he couldn't possibly expect perfection in us--that we should just let things go and not worry about the consequences!

No, far from it.

We can find some clarity long before the coming of Christ in the counsel to the children of Israel: "Let your heart therefore be perfect with the LORD our God, to walk in his statutes, and to keep his commandments, as at this day." (1 Kings 8:61)

You see, we must still be perfect. But our perfection in getting every card out before Christmas or in decorating the house just so, in cooking the best ham or in buying the best presents, in reindeer antlers or gingerbread men, are not what ultimately matter. We must be perfect in obedience. Perfect in submission. Perfect in appreciation. Perfect in gratitude. Perfect in love. Perfect in joy.

And that kind of perfection comes not from being stressful, but in letting go and living by faith--by living stress free.

Monday, December 17, 2007

Good, Better, Best

Good, better, best
Never let it rest
'Til your good is better
And your better, best!


I had a choreographer one time that used to say this to us--I think she said it was something her mother used to say.

The quote came to my mind after a couple of experiences at the gym the other day.

Though I did play some sports in grade school, I have never been what I would consider an athlete--that is, I never really enjoyed sports. For one, I didn't enjoy exercising in general. There are some people who really love that feeling of a good workout. More power to 'em! I'm just not one of them.

And second, I wasn't any good. Perhaps I wouldn't mind the exercising if I felt like it was something I was good at and could be proud of, but nope--not me!

Here I am, though, thanks to my Beyond Freedom and its goal achieving system, training for a triathlon, of all things.

My trainer has been having me run on a treadmill--the weather is too cold to run outside now, and this gives us exact distance and speed. And, of course, she is making me go faster and further than I ever have before.

So the other day, there was this guy on the treadmill next me, and he was amazing! I could not believe how fast he was going, and he just kept going and going! I was panting and out of breath and feeling like I was going to throw up, and he just kept going and going. It was so motivating! "I want to be like that guy," I said to myself. And I wanted to ask him if I could run next to him every day.

A few days later, I was again on the treadmill, and this time the person next to me was a short, heavy set woman who was just walking.

As I was doing my routine, I overheard her talking to a similar woman on the other side of her. They were talking about fitness and their goals, and she turned to me, smiled, and said, "Someday, I'm going to be like her."

I almost turned around. What she talking about me? Was she talking about this woman who never enjoyed exercise and who has been struggling to make it through a simple, 30 minute program? Was she talking about the one who wanted to throw up when she was running next to a true athlete the other day?

I wanted to correct her! I wanted to tell her I wasn't so great! I wanted to tell her that we all have our challenges!

But I didn't.

I just smiled back.

You see, Beyond Freedom had taught me an important lesson. My purpose here--as well as that of everyone else with whom I share the planet--is to be the best me that I can be.

So many times in my life I have compared myself with others. It has made me depressed (she's so much prettier than I am, why don't I have as many friends as she does?, her mom is so much nicer--my life sucks!) and it has made me conceited (oh my gosh, I am so glad I'm not flat chested like her, geez, I am so tired of being the only smart person around here, why can't you guys be serious for once?)--both qualities that are decidedly unattractive and unproductive. They take me nowhere but down.

What I have learned is that comparison is only good for one thing--motivation. The man next to me motivated me to be better, just as I motivated the woman next to me to be better. And that is what life should be like--all of us striving and helping each other be better, and to make our better the best that it can be.

Tuesday, December 11, 2007

At the Copa, Copacabana..

It stills seems a little surreal to think that I am training for a triathlon.

In one of the Beyond Freedom exercises, we are asked to write down 101 things we would like to do before we die. The first time I did it, I struggled to come up with 19!
As I thought of what would make me really feel like I had accomplished something, a marathon popped in my head. I have always really admired anyone who could run marathon. Boy, if I could do that, that would really be something.
Trouble is, I don't like to run.
At the time, I had a friend who was training for a triathlon. I thought, "Well, I like to swim and I like to bike--hey, why not?!" And I wrote it down.
There is a strange power in writing goals down on paper. Now that I had it written, I had to do it!
So that's how I ended up in a spin class at 8 a.m. on Saturday morning.
Since beginning my training, I have taken a few of these classes, and they are grueling! The teacher does the best that she can, though, to change it up and make us feel like we really are going somewhere and not just "spinning our wheels." And she puts on music to give us something to help pass the time and provide some rhythm in our movement.
This particular day, the music she picked was just perfect--for me, anyway. I knew and could sing along with almost every song. It put a big grin on my face and helped me forget for a moment how hard I was working and how tired I was.
And then it happened.
"Her name was Lola..."
Something stirred in me.
"She was a showgirl..."
It made my blood tingle.
"With yellow feathers in her hair and a dress cut down to there..."
I could not fight the urge to dance!
"At the Copa, Copacabana...Music and passion were always in fashion at the Copa!"
I sat up in my seat and moved my arms to the music. I sang--I shouted! I was having a grand time. I couldn't help it.
The teacher looked at me and smiled, and then an amazing thing happened--she started waving her arms and dancing, too. And here and there, I even caught a couple of my classmates joining in.
By my stepping out and not being afraid to express my joy, I gave permission to everyone else to express theirs as well!
It reminded me of the famous Marianne Williamson quote (often mis-attributed to Nelson Mandela), from her book, A Return to Love:
Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.
I am so grateful for my Beyond Freedom and the community of people who give me permission every day to be the best I can be and spread that light to others!

Friday, December 7, 2007

Preschool, Pizza, and Perspective

Two heart-warming stories. One important message.

The Case of the Disgruntled Preschooler

When I arrived at the gym this morning, it was wet and cold.

As is often the case, there were parents unloading preschoolers and shuttling them into the adjoining school.

Today, however, there was one little girl who got my attention.

As she got out of the car and experienced the harsh winter weather, she started crying. Her mom, simultaneously juggling a baby in a stroller and trying to comfort her young daughter, said, "Well, honey, just keep walking and we'll be in the warm building soon."

The little girl--while walking with her mom in the direction of the warm building--cried even louder and said, "NO! We'll never get in the building!"

As I brushed by this young family, I couldn't help but chuckle. Here was the little girl walking toward her goal--her target within view--and yet, she couldn't see it. All she could see was the wind and the cold and the wet snow around her making her miserable.

The Case of the Misdirected Pizza

It had been a long, cold day, and I didn't feel like getting up from under the warm blanket. Cooking dinner was unthinkable. The solution? One quick call to Domino's, and a warm meal would be on its way.

I lumbered to the kitchen and made the call.

Ah. Mission accomplished. Back to the warm blanket.

Twenty-five to forty minutes later, the food arrived, and I herded the children into the dining room. We gave thanks, cracked open the box, and...horrors! The pizza was not what we ordered!

Perhaps we would not be so upset except for this simple fact: we are vegetarians, and what was sitting on our table was a dead pig. They had put ham on our pizza! Blech.

I called Domino's. Surely they would make everything all right.

Unfortunately, the woman on the phone seemed confused. I had to explain the situation several times. She was irked that my voice rose every time I had to explain again.

They would send the correct pizza.

Twenty-five to forty minutes later, the second set of pizzas had still not arrived, and I was due at my neighbor's house any minute. I had no choice but to call Domino's and tell them to deliver it to a different address.

I called, and again, I was faced with having to explain the situation multiple times. Again the lady was irked that my voice continued to rise.

I arrived at my neighbor's house furious and frazzled. I knew my neighbor would not be home, but I was meeting a mutual friend there for an evening of crafts and conversation. I ran in and quickly explained what a rotten day I'd had and apologized for being late. My friend was very gracious, of course, and waited while I went back to the car to get my things--including the meat-tainted pizza. I couldn't keep it in my house, so I planned to give it away.

When I walked in with the boxes, my friend looked at them and nearly cried. "You brought food?" she said. "Yes," I explained, "this pizza is why I am so upset. I thought you might want some. Did you eat?"

She looked at me and paused. Tears welled up in her eyes and she said, "I can't believe you brought pizza."

I was a little stunned at her reaction. After all, I hadn't quite recovered from my irritation at the situation. The correct pizzas still had not arrived, so I was distracted by my determination to remain mad at Domino's. Why was she reacting this way?

Suddenly I had a realization, and I said, "Are you why this happened to me?"

She looked at me almost ashamed and embarrassed--she had prayed for pizza.

It turns out that she had ordered pizza for her husband and house guests, but she didn't get to eat any. It had arrived just as she was leaving, and she didn't want to be late to meet me. She had planned on going hungry.

Now it was my turn to be ashamed and embarrassed. How dare I be upset when I know that everything happens for a reason. Oh, how I was kicking myself at my base ingratitude for the situation. I didn't know the pizza would bless Sandi, but I could have imagined that it would bless someone.

It seems in retrospect that much if not all of our frustration in life comes from a lack of perspective.

The little girl only saw what was right in front of her--not where she was headed. I got a wrong pizza and only saw how bad it was for me--not how much good would come out of it.

It reminds me of the fly who is so focused on pushing through the glass that he doesn't notice there is an open window right next to him.

Oh how much of our frustration can be eliminated just by looking at the big picture--seeing from a distance! Seeing that the effort a butterfly must exert when pushing out of his chrysalis makes his wings sturdy and strong. Seeing that the trials we go through make us stronger, too.

Seeing that despite the wind and cold, we really are headed toward a warm building.

Wednesday, December 5, 2007

Regis' Special Gift

On November 15, 1968, my friend Regis received a very special gift. Others may not think so--they may call it a trial, an adversity, an obstacle, a challenge, or even a curse.

I'll let you decide.

I met Regis in the fall of 1986 at the beginning of our freshman year of college. My roommate Sylvia and I were standing in line to rent a refrigerator for our dorm room, and the boys behind us starting talking about something that sparked our interest. We turned around and joined in the conversation. It turned out that they lived just two floors above us!

Regis and Sylvia (and I, by extension) became fast friends.

Not long after, there was a football game in the quad, and I saw Regis sitting on the sidelines watching. I went over and talked to him and asked him why he wasn't playing.

As we got to know Regis more and we watched him meet new people, we often joked that when people met Regis for the first time, they always immediately learned two things about him: that he's French and that he has a heart condition.

Sitting on the sidelines that day, it was my turn to learn these two things for the first time.

Regis said, "Yeah, I'm not really into sports. A lot of people think I'm gay--I'm not. I just have a heart condition."

Regis' parents met when his mom, an American, was spending a year in France. After a whirlwind romance, followed by a multi-year long distance relationship, his father came to the United States and they got married. A few years later, Regis was born.

What began as a joyful occasion soon turned into a nightmare, as Regis' special gift was discovered.

Regis was born with a hypoplastic aortic arch. A not uncommon congenital heart condition, this simply meant that his aorta was too small--not big enough to handle the blood that his heart was trying to pump throughout his body. What made Regis' condition unique was the fact that it wasn't just a small, easily fixable portion of the aorta. In fact, it was all of the major blood vessels.

When he was nine years old, Regis underwent a major bypass graft. Basically, the doctors gave him a second set of artificial blood vessels so that his heart could send double the amount of blood to the rest of his body. Though these types of artificial bypasses are fairly common in small sections, Regis was the first (and to his knowledge the only) person ever to have received an entire system bypass. And though the doctor put in "accordion" grafts so that the vessels would expand as he grew, Regis was never expected to live to adulthood.

Now, at 39 years old, Regis is a living example of someone who has lived life to the fullest.

He decided at a very young age to become a physician, and he did it (the only one of our crowd, by the way, who actually ended up doing what he said he would). He has travelled the world. He understands what is important. He hasn't spent his life accumulating "stuff"--though with a doctor's salary he very well could--and instead has built his life around helping people (including providing medical aid to the poorest of people in the inner city) and fostering and developing relationships with the people he loves.

Yes, Regis was given a very special gift--the gift of knowing that life here on earth does not last forever, of realizing that people are our most precious resource and that we must always treat them with love, kindness and respect, and of understanding that to truly get the most out of life, we must live as if each day was our last.

Tuesday, December 4, 2007

Try and Catch Me

When I arrived at the gym this morning, I was surprised to discover lots of smiling parents.

It's not usual to encounter parents--my gym has a preschool in the building, and depending on what time I arrive, I often run into them dropping off or picking up their kids. I see them in the parking lot, too--loading and unloading.

Unfortunately, though, they're not usually smiling! More often than not, they have a harried look on their face as they rush from one place to the next, struggle to herd the kids in the right direction, and deal with separation sadness.

Today, though, they were all smiling. Why?

The answer became clear when I saw what they had in their hands--school pictures had arrived!

I reflected on these parents--parents who so often seemed unhappy--and in my mind I told them, "Hold on to this moment! Hold on to this feeling! Choose to be happy always."

The experience reminded me of a powerful decision I made a few weeks ago.

Beyond Freedom teaches us that we are in control of our feelings. We get to choose how we react in every situation. We choose how we think, and we choose how we feel. So doesn't it make sense that you should choose what serves you? Choose what makes you feel good. Choose what makes you happy! Hold on to the feeling.

I will admit that I am, by nature, an excitable person. I get excited about things that people often think are a little crazy, and I have spent a good deal of my time trying to get others to experience the joy and happiness that I feel so readily. I was popular with people who had low self esteem, because I was their cheerleader. The boys who were attacted to me liked me because I was peppy and would talk a lot.

But focussing on others in this way is exhausting, and I have often craved the company of those who naturally feel the excitement and joy of life that I do. It seems, though, that these people are few and far between.

A few weeks ago, our community theme for the week was being an example--focussing on doing the right thing ourselves (being happy, making a ton of money, etc.), instead of stopping what we're doing to try and motivate others. Tony and his guests taught us that example is the best motivator!

And so I had these thoughts in my mind on Sunday at choir practice.

I am forever trying to get the choir members to smile, have fun, and enjoy the music. "Don't you love it?" I say, "Don't you believe it? Then show it!" And this Sunday was no different.

From there I went to our church service, where I lead the congregational singing as well. Every Sunday I watch as people barely move their lips to sing the songs--even during the happy, joyful songs ("The rousing hymns of Zion!" a leader used to call them), nary a smile can be seen on people's faces. I am up there waving my arms frantically--smiling, emoting, and frustrated that I seem to be the only one enjoying the experience. I want so badly to knock heads together or run around tickling everybody just to get them to smile!

But this particular Sunday, as I was reflecting on our community lessons from the week before, it occured to me that it is not my responsibility to try and make them feel the joy. All I can do is feel it myself, and perhaps others will see my example and want to feel it, too.

Now, I do not know what is going on in anyone else's lives. Perhaps they are struggling with a difficult job situation, or the death or illness of a loved one. Perhaps they are preoccupied with day to day living, financial troubles, or family discord. Perhaps they really are happy inside, and they just have a different way of showing it. I don't know.

But I made a decision that day, and that decision is this: I never want to be caught without a smile.

I never want someone to look at me and wish I was smiling or wish I was happier or wish I could experience the joy they are feeling. I never want someone to look at me and be sad that I don't look happy. I never want to be THAT person--that person I see over and over and over all around me. You know, the one that looks so sad or stressed out or overwhelmed.

So, if you see me walking down the street, try and catch me. If you see me in the store, if you see me in church, if you see me at the school, try and catch me. If you see me with friends, if you see me with my kids (especially with my kids!), if you see me with my husband, try and catch me.

No matter where I am, not matter what I'm doing, try and catch me without a smile.

Monday, December 3, 2007

One Party, Zero Stress

I am so filled with gratitude today! Tired and worn out, but filled with gratitude!!!! :o)

If you have read my story, then you know that I used to be the definition of stress.

In fact, it got so bad that it landed me in the hospital at just 37 years old.

As you may suspect, I was especially stressed out around the holidays. There is so much to do! So many things I am responsible for! I must sacrifice so that everyone else can have a good time!

Yes, that was my life. Perhaps it has been yours, too.

This year, thanks to Beyond Freedom and a community of people to support me, I am having the most stress free holiday season of my adult life.

Case in point is last night.

I serve on the Board of Directors for the Little Theatre of Alexandria (LTA). Theatre is my greatest passion in life, and it is a pleasure to serve there as Governor for Membership. However, one of my responsibilities in this position is to host the annual holiday party.

As someone who always felt unpopular growing up--not being invited to parties, etc.--I have, as an adult, always told people that "parties are not my forte." Soooo much old emotional baggage comes up for me when it comes to parties--no one will come, no one will have a good time, people will talk badly about me afterwards, some else will have a party and not invite me. I would prefer to just stay away and let someone else take the emotional risk.

Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how you look at it), I was "forced" to plan last night's party--partly because it is my job as Governor, and partly because I couldn't find anyone else to do it for me!!!

But here is the amazing thing...

I was cool as a cucumber in a situation which one year ago would have sent me over the edge. One week before the event I only had a sketchy idea of what I was going to do--and yet, I wasn't worried. A few days before the event I was shopping for food and deciding on a menu--and yet, I was calm and collected. The day before the event, I spent some time in the hot tub!

I wish I could relate what a complete turnaround this is for my life. My husband and my closest friends even noticed it.

And I can entirely contribute it to my Beyond Freedom and this community--a community of people who encourage, motivate, and inspire me to relax and enjoy life.

By the way, the party was a HUGE success. Many many people told me that it was the best holiday party and even the best party of any kind that they had ever been to at LTA. My heart is so full of gratitude, my eyes are welling up with tears--thank you, thank you, thank you Beyond Freedom!

Template by - Abdul Munir | Daya Earth Blogger Template