dare to dream

Living the dream. Life's a breeze. Not.

During a particularly challenging week at work, I happened upon an article by Robert S. Kaplan titled Reaching your Potential which offered up the teaser, "maybe you feel frustrated with your career--convinced you should be achieving more. You may even wish you had chosen a different career altogether."

I was definitely frustrated, and even discouraged, but did I wish I had chosen a different path?

Not really.

As I reflected on Kaplan's article, I realized that I'm right where I want to be.

In sharing this insight with one of my friends, she kindly, but pointedly asked,

"Did you really think that living your dream isn't challenging, discouraging, and difficult?"

To which I sheepishly replied, "No."

The truth is there's a pretty large shred of me which believes that in living my dream, life will be breezy.

This isn't, and can't be, true -- am I the only one who wants it to be?

Do you remember Psyche's 3rd task?

The task that requires her to fill a flask with water from a raging river alongside a craggy cliff, a task which is a metaphor for our learning to accomplish goals against inevitable distractions and tough odds.

This image is copyrighted by Mallika Sundaramurthy and Whitney Johnson, 2008.

Would it be accurate to say that Psyche didn't choose to be on the hero's journey? That she wasn't precisely where she wanted and needed to be? That she didn't want to accomplish her goal?

No, no and no.

But it was difficult.

It is for us too.

After one of your tough days, do you find yourself wondering if you really are living your dream? If you're not -- then that is another conversation. If you are, do you ask why things aren't easier? Why do you think we believe this?

Did you notice how Psyche delegated the task of filling the flask to the eagle? As we are dreaming, whether our dream involves full-time mothering, full-time careering, or some amalgam of the two, what tasks can we delegate?

If you were to interview dare to dreamgirl Dana King, who recently started designHop clubs, and has been featured in St. Louis Magazine, will she tell you she is happily living out her dream? Absolutely. Will she tell you it's easy? I'll let you ask her.

Or if you were to interview Rebecca Nielsen, the mother of young twin daughters, who recently wrote about Rightsizing our dream, what will she say? Easy? Hard? Both?

Related posts:
The Myth of Psyche
Psyche's 3rd Task
Second thoughts on Psyche's 2nd task
dare to dreamgirl: Dana King
Rightsizing our dream: Rebecca Nielsen

Artist My 'I' Likes: Jane Maxwell

My friend Liz and I discovered the artist Jane Maxwell at an art gallery in Boston a few summers ago.

Some of you are going to love her work as much as I do. Which means that when I'm ready to buy a piece the price will be even higher.

But I just wanted to share.

Of my favorites, the first is 'Walking Girls'.

'Pick your Fruit' reminds me of of a photo I have of my mother who modeled in San Francisco in the early 1960's; I also remember going to orchards to pick apricots with her as a child.

Though I've read Ms. Maxwell's statement, her work has a slightly different meaning for me (as it well may for you). I see a both/and -- the connecting and caring that is symbolized by the fruit labels/the farmer's market -- and the 'I or identity piece of ourselves that I see in the stance of the women -- at least in the images that I like.

Bottom line -- I'm not quite sure why I love her artwork so much.

Isn't it usually that way?

We discover art, we love it, and only later we come to see how the art has named for us something that we somehow couldn't.

What is your response?

Do you like, dislike, love, hate -- or are you indifferent to her work?

What meaning do you make?

Related posts:

Blog I Like: Portabellopixie
Affirming our 'I'dentity
Farmer's market metaphor
Dreaming or deflecting?

Spoiler alert

I woke up this morning happy, rolled over, slept some more.

An hour later, I woke up again, giddy.

My husband took our children to visit with family for the day.

So I'm home alone without a list of a million things that I expect myself to get done because my perfectionist self is away as well...I kindly asked that she go on holiday -- and proceeded to give myself a permission slip...

To watch two episodes of What not to Wear (if anyone would like to nominate me -- would you please?)

To get up when I want to.

To think what I want to.

To do what I want to -- when I want to.

Used by permission from Swallowfield

What will I do today?

I don't know yet.

And I don't need or want to know.

My friend Jen said to me recently, "How can I 'dare to dream' when I don't even have time to think my own thoughts?"

She's absolutely right, isn't she?

If you don't quite have it in you to carve out a day alone 'just because', when your husband or boyfriend or roommates or parents or friends ask you what you want for your next birthday, tell them you want a day all by yourself -- in your very own house -- to think your own thoughts.

It's going to be hard to ask -- so before you do -- you may want to read: Martha and Mary, Psyche and choice, Asking for what we want, Making a place for your dream, Learning to 'Let it Be'.

A day by your self will feel indulgent.

It will spoil you.

And it will feel wonderful.

Have any of you done this recently?

Just how hard was it? Or not?

How did you feel?

Did you find there was there more, not less, of your self, more ability to care and connect?

When dreams collide: advice welcome

It's now on my calendar to blog every Saturday.

I planned to last Saturday, but it didn't happen.

I'm blogging today -- but it's tough.

Don't get me wrong.

It's been a great week.

I just spent a 1/2 hour with my daughter leafing through the Harry and David catalog before we ordered this fruit basket, one which she was happy to help pay for out of her allowance.

And, earlier this week, I'd been in in the Bay Area (I grew up in San Jose), reconnected with three of my childhood/college friends, Kathleen, Annette and Lisa, eaten Mexican food and See's candy -- and our Rose Park business trip was both productive and fun.

But here's the problem.

As I live out my dream of building Rose Park, I'm again working 60-70 hours/week, and as a consequence I don't have the energy to keep up with 'dare to dream' as I'd like.

Which really kind of bums me out given how strongly I feel about our daring to dream.

What shall I do as my dreams collide?

What would you do?

Would you blog less frequently?

Would you invite more guest bloggers?

You're my 'dare to dream' blogging team -- what would you advise?

What do you do when your dreams collide?

Are there systergistic solutions?

Related posts:
Right-sizing our dream: Rebecca Nielsen
Affirming our 'I'dentity
Getting in the game
Psyche's 1st Task: Sort the seeds
Of pineapples and friendship

Rightsizing our dream: Rebecca Nielsen

When I spoke at Fusion, a women's group here in Boston, Rebecca Nielsen asked the question, "What happens when you have a dream (career), but then you make room for another dream (motherhood), making the prior dream an impossibility?

Good question, I thought, and asked her to guest blog.

Rebecca is the mother of eight-month-old twin girls, and was previously a Senior Director with UnitedHealth Group. She obtained her MBA from Harvard Business School in 2002, and an AB in History and Literature from Harvard College in 1998.

Below she shares her experience, and gamely answers my tough questions:

Years ago I set a goal to run the Red Cross. I then determined that attending business school and gaining management skills in the private sector were important steps to qualifying myself to lead a major NGO. When I called my college chemistry professor for a letter of recommendation to business school, he replied, "Rebecca – I don't envision you in business. I see you running the Red Cross."

I had to smile.

I shared that dream on my business school application and in my entrance interview. After each class I kept a journal of how my education in brand management, strategy, controls or finance would serve me in the non-for-profit arena – and I kept the dream tangible: someday I would run the American Red Cross. After business school I spent five years working in the healthcare industry developing general management skills.

Fast forward to the present: I am now a full-time mother of beautiful twin baby girls. Swept up in this dream – which is more purposeful and joyful than I expected – I think more about catching up on sleep than fundraising for disaster relief. However, I heed Langston Hughes' caution about dreams deferred, and welcome the chance to reflect on this goal. I've planted some stakes in the ground as I start this process of reassessing: I savor this time with my girls and I want to spend the bulk of my time with my children for years to come.

So, what about the dream?

Although I now have competing dreams that need to make room for each other, I am still enthusiastic about making strides in both – but not necessarily at the same time. Within days of receiving the invitation from Whitney to write this blog, I learned of the passing of my aunt. She enjoyed a rich family life and accomplished remarkable professional goals. She did it in stages. When her youngest child started kindergarten, she started writing. In the years that followed, she published twelve books. The fodder for some of her most notable works came from experiences with her children.

I anticipate that there will be a season in my life when I will chase my dream of running the Red Cross, and that my experiences as a mother will provide valuable fodder and perspective in championing humanitarian relief. My dream may need to be right-sized as I won't have a traditional management resume – but I am not disheartened. If I am not in a position to lead an established NGO, I will be able to serve on non-profit boards, volunteer in humanitarian relief on a local level, and follow my parents' example of devoting time to an extended humanitarian mission abroad. I may need to become a non-profit entrepreneur, and bootstrap my own effort to make a difference. Although my goal may change, its essence – to use my skills to champion humanitarian relief – is still within reach.

***

Q (Whitney): any questions you would pose to women after having written this?

A (Rebecca): Because of our life circumstances, some of our dreams may become less achievable. When is it right to let go, and when do we need to keep striving? Can the process of working towards a dream be enough of a reward in and of itself?

Q: How long would you say that it took you to right-size your dream? Has this been in the works since you graduated in 2002?

A: I've always wanted to have a family: when I formulated the goal to run the Red Cross, I just felt extremely bullish about finding a way to do both. I anticipated that after several years of mothering I would dust off my resume and charge into the non-profit world. However, exiting the business world with the birth of my children has prompted some reevaluation.

While I still feel the enthusiasm for making a contribution in humanitarian relief, I am more accepting of the fact that I may need to apply my skills in less conspicuous ways. As a career counselor told me once, the likelihood of my being the head of the Red Cross is weak at best, even if that were my only goal -- but the likelihood of my making a meaningful contribution in humanitarian relief is within my control.

Q. As you've ostensibly closed the door on one dream, what dream have you opened the door to since becoming a mother? What dream is now possible that wasn't before because of your business and mothering experience?

A: I feel that I am becoming a more complete person. I remember the relief I felt after coming home from the hospital with our girls, that at last, after 31 years, I could channel the bulk of my energies into something besides my own personal, academic and professional development. My life -- to large extent -- is these two little women, and I find that in letting them be my focus, I like myself better and trust myself more.

Q: You said you kept a journal on how you could prepare for the Red Cross... what if you were to keep a journal today -- for even just a month -- recording how your mothering experience can help you to continue to prepare to run the Red Cross. While I agree with you that it is more out-of-reach than it was, I'm not sure that it is entirely.... So would love for you to just imagine and explore a bit.

A: That's a great idea -- I'm up for it. I think I will recast the goal a bit, i.e. "how is what I am doing now preparing me to make a significant contribution in the realm of humanitarian relief?"

I'd be happy to report back at the end of August with my findings.

***

What dreams have you had that you needed to right size? How did you do it?

I was struck by Rebecca's comment that it was a relief to channel her energies into something other than herself. Psyche would certainly appreciate her sentiment. What are your thoughts?

Have you thought about keeping a journal that outlines how what you are doing in your life right now will help you achieve your dream? Before you say "nothing", think again.

How could Rebecca bring her girls along as she dreams?

Related posts:
What is your dream?
Explore your possibilities
Salon-style systergy
Doorsteps, doors and dreams

'I'dea-licious: June 2008

Dear friends --

You are so very 'I'-dea-licious!   So many insights--- thank you!

***
dare to dreamgirl:  Maria Carr
I love the process of learning and creating. When I am done with that I am ready to hand it off to someone else. That is why we need other eyes...to let us see what can come next what we can become.  Barbara Torris

Thank you Barbara.  If you are wondering, how do you become a 'dare to dreamgirl', there are really only two criteria:  1)  You need to do something 'big' for you -- and very out of your comfort zone; 2)  I need to have helped you, mentored you, encouraged you in your process.  So I guess that means there's a 3rd criteria -- you asked to be mentored (and we all know how tough it is to ask) - and I said yes.

Speaking of dare to dreamgirls, will you click the kirtsy button to the left and see what's happening with dare to dreamgirl Dana King.  She started her blog less than a year ago, a blog which has helped her find her voice, to hone her idea for the designHop club.  And now she's been written up in the St. Louis Post-Dispatch.  Baby steps really can become giant steps. 

***
An 'A' or an 'F' on the Galadriel Test?
There has been no mention of Bella's religious belief, so it is safe to say she is not Mormon, only the creator of the books is. So why should she have to make her characters in the book exactly like her. She has already commented that she would never put premarital sex in her books, so I don't understand your problem with it. Bella and Edward do not have sex, because Edward has some form of religion. He wants to get married first. Now, going into the fourth book, they are engaged, and are going to wait to try until after they are married. I guess I just don't understand your anger or issue with the books, or Stephenie Meyer.

Rosa, thank you for taking this on.   Were you to interview a large sample of Mormon women, I think you'd find this cohort both ambivalent and avid readers of her work.  But, BUT, as I wrote in a follow-up post, Et tu Whitney?, I see myself applying a double standard.  What's even more fascinating to me is that even as I sort through my ambivalence, I purchased Ms. Meyer's most recent book, The Host and have bought or recommended it to several others as well.  There is so much more to be said. Like you, I love Benzion Chinn's thoughtful analysis of Stephenie Meyer and Orson Card's work.  Bottom line -- I don't have this one figured out -- this seems to be a fairly fruitful discussion, so let's all keep talking.

***
The allure of the pom-pom
We often want (because it's easier and more simple) to identify with one or the other -- and act accordingly to the expectations of that role. I wonder if the fluid and skillful movement between these "roles" (cheerleader and player) is what generates the energy needed to accomplish our work, whatever that may be.

As for the Twilight Series, Bella is loved because she exists - not because she does everything right, fulfills expectations, or has a great haircut. I believe that deep down this is what we all want -- to be loved for our very existence.

When we "work" to secure love and acceptance (whether through showing the nice parts of ourselves, saying what we think others want us to say, dutifully playing a role that may not be in line with our purpose, etc.), I wonder if we preclude ourselves from having what we really want -- to be loved simply because we are who we are.  Janna Taylor

We do want to be both -- don't we?  I strive so hard to have a both/and mindset, but seem to so often slip into either/or.  Janna, yours is the kind of insight, even systergy, that I think all bloggers hope for.  As we talk to one another, we both teach and are taught.

***
As I recently read a number of your entries, I thought that the tone of your posts had moved a bit from the more (extended discussions of your thoughts, experiences) to the less personal (e.g. cheering on other people, etc.). I wondered whether this was deliberate or not.  Anonymous

Astute, dear friend.  Because cheering those I love makes so me so very happy, AND because self-introspection is sometimes tough particularly when I am trying to 'be in the game' and it sometimes feels like the score is 0-28 and I'm in the last two minutes, focusing on others is my more comfortable place.  However, because of my deep conviction that we need to learn to be cheerleader and player, nurturer and accomplisher, harbor and ship, my goal is to begin alternating between the two types of posts.  And yep -- you can hold me to it.

***
Rachel and Leah:  Reclaiming our power to dream
Rachel may have been beautiful and favored.  But she was self centered--very; she thought only of her self.

Thank you Maggie.  I certainly didn't see this as a both/and when I first starting thinking about Rachel and Leah as a metaphor for ourselves.  Seeing the dark side of Rachel and light side of Leah has come with time which I've written about in my post Why I liked Wicked and to a lesser extent in Martha and Mary. 

***
When we say No
I have to take a rain check on guest blogging. I have had some health and family 'stuff' come up all at the same time this past week and just can't put my heart and mind into as I should and as I want to...I am learning to prioritize, that is for sure...If in [a few months] you feel that it would still be pertinent to pick this up then I would be happy to refocus on it.  Anonymous friend of Whitney's

I was so impressed when I received this e-mail.  She said 'yes' to herself, 'no' to guest--blogging now, but yes? to the future.  Beautifully done.  It is so difficult to say no which is why is why it is Psyche's 4th Task, not her 1st.  For those of you interested in a few practical tips, here's a video clip with highlights from O Magazine's How to Say No.  One caveat -- I don't agree with everything that's said, but I did find it thought-provoking and on balance helpful.

Thank you again to each of you for your comments both on and off-line!  Keep 'em coming!

When a dream dies

My first pregnancy had been SO easy.

First try.  Pregnant.  Not a day of morning sickness.

And notwithstanding the fact that I'd had my son the old-fashioned way because no anesthesiologists were on hand when I arrived at the hospital, his birth was also easy.

Two years later, I was ready to have another baby.

I'd get pregnant in late August; an early summer baby wouldn't interfere with my busy time at work, and allow me to enjoy a summer off.

Baby number two -- coming right up.

Easy peasy.

©iStockphoto.com/RonTech2000

Until I miscarried.

I was only one month along.  No big deal - I told myself.

But it was a big deal.

My body and world were reshaping, welcoming new possibilities -- I was going to have another baby.

And then I wasn't.

***

Several months ago, one of my girlfriends' dreams derailed.

Oddly enough, I immediately thought of a miscarriage.

Perhaps we've hoped and planned, planned and hoped.  Perhaps the dream was borne of necessity as was my friend's.

As we dare to dream, we are preparing to birth a new piece of our self.

Something wonderful is going to be.

But sometimes the dream dies.

And we are sad -- very sad.

Do we eventually make meaning of the experience, tell our story?

Yes.

Do we try to have another baby, dare again to dream?

Yes.

In the meantime, do we need to grieve?

Yes.

I'm trying to -- I hope you will too.

Related posts:
Morning sickness metaphor
Google lesson on dreams vs. expectations
Tell your story
Soundtrack story:  Career, motherhood and 9/11

dare to dreamgirl: Maria Carr

Say hello to dare to dreamgirl Maria Carr.

There are so many things I could say, but probably best if I introduce you to her briefly, and then let Maria tell you her story in her own words. 

Maria came to the U.S.  as a young girl - she and her family were refugees from Castro's Cuba.   She has been an actress all of her adult life, and long held the dream of having her own television show.

And now she does.

If you click either here or on the banner below, Maria shares with us her feelings just after At Home with Maria had debuted.

In her blog post Dreams and Cliff Jumping, Maria shares that after months of planning and years of preparation, she just wasn't sure she wanted to do this television show anymore.

Finally, you can watch and listen to Maria on air.

Have you had the experience similar to Maria's?  After years of preparation, you were ready to make your dream happen, and then you weren't so sure you wanted it anymore?  Or it didn't turn out as you had expected?

Will you head over to her blog and tell her Atta Girl?

The allure of the pom-pom

I sort of deserved it, but it stung nonetheless.

One of our vendors (I'm purposely being vague) recently invited me and several other clients to sit in their box at a Celtics game -- nope, not a championship game.

In making small talk, one of the fellows asked me if I were a hoops fan.  I could have given several different answers.  Like, Yes, I really enjoyed going to games when I was younger.  Or, No, not so much, but I've enjoyed seeing the Celtics' have a winning season.  Both answers would have been true.

Instead, I said, "Well, I WAS a cheerleader in high school".

To which he responded, "And, now you're a cheerleader over at Rose Park."

©iStockphoto.com/Jeremy Sterk

Weeks later, I'm still stung.

Was his comment inappropriate?

Yup.

But, given that 'it takes two to tango', and that this man's comment, albeit the most egregious over the past year, was not dissimilar to comments made by other folks, I have come to wonder if I bear some responsibility for this sort of riposte. 

I don't mean to imply that I didn't relish being a cheerleader because I did.  I spent many, many hours making up and perfecting cheers; I loved cheering for my high school.

Even today, I'm happiest when I'm cheering on my family and friends as they pursue their dreams.

But in my professional milieu, cheerleader isn't what I thought I was going for.

So why did I say what I said?

Because I must have meant it -- at least a little.

I want to be respected professionally, to have what I say and do be taken seriously.  To have gravitas.

I also want to be loved, adored, and cared for -- don't all girls?

And in a professional context, I just don't think you can have both.

So...

I've been asking myself ---

Am I going to grow up or not?

Throw down my pom-poms, as alluring as they are to hang on to?

Or get in the game?

©iStockphoto.com/Klaus Larsen

Have you read Stephenie Meyer's Twilight series?  Her books play perfectly into our desire to be loved, adored, cared for.  Which is why, in my opinion, they are so intoxicating -- I read the first three in a week.

Have you found yourself giving mixed messages?   As a professional, parent, spouse?  Why?

Have you ever become angered by a comment only to later realize that the person was merely reflecting back to you what you were emitting? 

Even as I write this, it feels that I am grappling for, or missing, something.  What are your thoughts?

Related posts:
Getting in the game
If you get defensive, you're getting close
It's just a game.  Precisely!
Et tu, Whitney?
The hazards of getting in the game

'I'dea-licious: May 2008

Dear friends --

Thank you once again for your insightful comments - you were absolutely 'I'-dea-licious in May!

***
Blog I Like:  Portabellopixie
Oh, I love her fabrics as well.  They're so cheerful!  I don't know about what's out there made from her fabric, but I'd love to sew something for you--maybe we could make a deal!   Janika

Love this idea Janika. LOVE.  What a 'farmer's market-y', systergistic proposal.  Can't wait to do some bartering.

****

Will kirtsy please take a bow?
Besides admiring the kirtsy women's perspective and strength, I think the new name is more meaningful than the original. To "curtsy" means to show honor and recognition, which is what kirtsy does so beautifully. Kirtsy honors and recognizes the best in things and people. To my way of thinking, this conflict helped kirtsy drill down deeper to their essence.   Janna Taylor

Janna's comment raises two important points:  1)  When we bow or kirtsy to the magnificence in others, we give them a gift of inestimable value; 2)  the crisis that precipitated the name change from sk*rt to kirtsy could certainly be defined as a Road of Trials along the hero's journey.

***

Enchanted anger
I suppose that there are a great many of us who recognize we're uncomfortable in a given situation, but don't realize until later that it's actually anger...Sometimes we've suppressed them all [our feelings] for so long that we forget what they are.  Lisle

Just this past week I was flat-out startled at my response to a particular situation.  I had so cleverly disguised my anger (again, because girls don't angry - or was it rage?) that I didn't recognize it for what it was until one of my dear friends had the courage to show me to myself.  I won't lie -- it was tough.

***
I think we need to be sure that we stick to the "subject" when we are angry.  Define what is bothering us and then only, only, only deal with that one thing.  Barbara Torris

What a difference adhering to Barbara's advice would make.  And yet because most of us haven't learned how to do anger very well, and thus don't often speak until we've reached the point of rage, sticking to the 'one thing' becomes supremely difficult.

***

Scribble Press:  Helping our children tell their story
Child or not, I think everyone has a story to tell...How great would it be if we could each find enough of ourselves to get published.  Emily

So, so true Emily.  One of my favorite books of recent years is Robert Atkinson's The Gift of Stories.  In it, he writes, "the ability to see our life as a comprehensible story is a key to our happiness."

P.S.  Thanks in part to your systergy 'Scribbling our children's way to self-esteem' is now one of this week's most popular stories over at kirtsy.   Anna and Darcy have  invested so many resources (brains, heart, time, money) into Scribble Press -- it's wonderful to see your support. 

***

If you get defensive, you're getting close
I loved your blog last night. I've read it a couple of times. It hits close to home. I'm really grateful for your wisdom in knowing what to write.  Anonymous friend of Whitney's

Janna, thank you for having the courage to tell your story -- because courage is required to tell a truthful story.  And look what happened? Janna has helped another woman screw up the courage to dream her own dream.

Also, please note, that even though the comment is posted as anonymous, I did ask for the author's permission to post.  It is so important that each of you know that if you want something to be kept in confidence, it will be.

Thank you again to each of you for your comments both on and off-line!  Keep 'em coming!