dare to dream

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?

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

If you get defensive, you're getting close

Several months ago, my friend Kathleen Stone introduced me to Manhattan entrepreneur Janna Taylor. Knowing of Janna's pedigree and track record, I was surprised to read that she had initially been defensive when people suggested she open her own tutoring business.

I had unequivocally believed that if people saw possibilities for us that we couldn't ourselves see, we would readily and gratefully embrace these possibilities. Yet as I reflected on my own life, I found that this has not always been the case.

BUT, here's what I've discovered -- the more defensive I become, the closer I am to identifying my dream.

With Janna having pinpointed defensiveness as a bane, but especially a boon, to daring to dream, I've asked her to 'tell her story'.

May you be as encouraged as I was.

In fall 2007, I opened Mind Full Tutors, a tutoring company located on the upper east side of Manhattan. Even though starting a tutoring business had been my dream for several years, I resisted pursuing it like a stubborn mule.

Prior to receiving a Master's of Education at Harvard, I'd helped build a successful tutoring company. But when I graduated, I took a job working for a non-profit teacher education program with no plan to start a tutoring business. Even though my work for the non-profit was meaningful, I was unhappy. The job responsibilities did not play to my strengths and were far from the “action” of educating students.

When I complained to friends about my job, many responded with, “When are you going to start your tutoring company?” Each time, I met this encouragement with defensive responses such as, “There is no way I can do that,” “I can’t even think about that right now” and “Maybe someday…I don’t know.”

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I have wondered -- why was I defensive?

Firstly, I was protecting my heart. I fervently wanted this dream to be a reality. But to pursue the dream would be to expose it to possible failure. I wondered if my heart could bear the disappointment.

Secondly, I was deflecting guilt for not acting authentically. I knew in my bones that part of living authentically was to start my own tutoring company. Because I knew it was going to be difficult and risky, I resisted.

These two factors blinded me to the possibility of success.

After several more months of job dissatisfaction, I decided to take a chance on what my friends and family could see, and what I had lost sight of. I wrote a business plan and five months later opened Mind Full Tutors. When I shared this news with my loved ones, all of the responses were akin to, “Finally!”

So what were my friends seeing that I wasn’t?

My friends saw an open road to success, where I saw barricades and roadblocks. They saw abilities, where I saw deficiencies. They saw, “Why not?” and I saw, “Because…” They saw my need to live with passion and purpose, and I saw a need to compromise because of fear.

I’ve learned that others can play an important role in anchoring us to our dreams. They remind us of what we can and are meant to accomplish in this life. While it is true that some people can detract us from our dreams, those who know us the best often see us for what we are – women of great ability and purpose.

Mind Full Tutors has been in business for almost a year now. My heart feels alive and I know that I am making difference in the world every day – one student at a time.

How would your loved ones respond if you asked them, “What do you see is my dream? And what qualities and abilities do I possess to make my dream a reality?”

Have ever felt defensive when someone mentions you should fulfill your dream? If so, why?

Have you ever fulfilled a, “Finally!” dream?

Related posts:

Play to your strengths
Rock climbing and rethinking our competence
What is your dream?
Why we tell our story
Walking through the unknown

When we say no

I say No, No, No No, No, No--until I see one [an investment] that is exactly what I am looking for.  And then I say Yes.  All I have to do is say Yes a few times in my life and I've made my fortune.We say no a thousand times before we can yes.  Warren Buffett

When we say 'no', what are we saying 'yes 'to?

As a parent, when we say 'no' to TV before our children play outside, aren't we saying 'yes' to their physical and emotional health?

As a student, when we say 'no' to the internship that is handily ours so as to seek out one that isn't,  aren't we saying 'yes' to discovering new skills so as to be even better prepared for the job market?

If I'm Paula Abdul and I say 'no' I didn't like that number, am I not saying 'yes' to my words meaning something?

When we say 'no' to heading up another committee at school because we are tapped out, aren't we saying 'yes' to our children and spouse, our self?

If I'm Katie Couric, if I had said 'no' I won't take the CBS Evening News gig, wouldn't she have been saying 'yes' to my brand, 'yes' to why people hire me, 'yes' to keeping my career on track?   (I confess, however, in response to Stacey P's comment on that post, had I been there, I don't know that I would have done it differently).

What about the entrepreneurs over at sk*rt who have others begging to give them money (with lots of strings attached)?  When they say 'no', aren't they saying 'yes' to more risk, but more importantly to themselves, their vision?

Photo courtesy of Andrea Heimer, whose 'Yes' painting I recently purchased and love

When we say 'no' to living out the dreams that others (parents, spouse, friends, children) have for us, aren't we saying 'yes' to the vision we have for our self?  Or at least to figuring out what vision we have for our self?

When we say 'no', we have said 'yes' to something else -- an emphatic, meaningful 'yes.'   

In learning to say 'no', we are indeed learning to say 'yes', not only 'yes' to others, but 'yes' to our selves.

To prioritize.
To discern.
To choose.
To be wise.

There's always a 'yes' on the other side of the 'no' -- who and what are we saying 'yes' to?

How are we saying yes to our self?

Over the next few hours, every time you say 'no', will you think about what you are saying 'yes' to?

P.S.  Thank you to Peggy D for inspiring this post.

Related posts:
Morning sickness metaphor
A down payment on our dream
Learning to say no
Psyche and choice
Words to dream by:   Anne Morrow Lindbergh
   

Lessons learned from Katie Couric

If successful women build portable skills, and if journalistic chops like those of Katie Couric are ostensibly portable, why has her stint at CBS been such a debacle?

And within the context of 'daring to dream', is there a lesson to be learned?

As we try and answer this question, there's a framework known as jobs to be done developed by Professor Clayton M. Christensen that I think can be useful.  Rather than trying to understand the typical viewer's characteristics (age, gender, for example), the 'jobs to be done' framework focuses instead on what job a viewer needs done or what problem she needs solved, and who or what can she hire to do that job.

For example, in Caitlin Flanagan's piece A Woman's Place - Katie Couric's Long Day's Journey into Evening, Flanagan writes that the job that women with small children need done on weekday mornings is "adult conversation".

When they tuned into Katie Couric on The Today Show, they were hiring Ms. Couric to help fill the time during "one of the most psychologically complex and lonely--and most emotionally fulfilling--times of their lives; their tenure as mothers to small children."

However, the very same women (the "typical viewer") who had hired Ms. Couric in the mornings who have nothing but time, time that must be filled, endured, killed -- is the person who is in a race against the clock by early evening...

At nine o’clock in the morning, Katie was the personification of The Today Show in its perfected form: not just a television program, but a cheery marker of time, a blessed imposition of structure and order on the disquieting entropy of life at home with children.  But at 6:30 in the evening, she’s a drag....Just one more person who wants something from you...nagging you to be interested—really, really interested—in Anbar province.

The problem that stay-at-home moms with small children need solved (not enough time, too much conversation) in the evening is diametrically opposed to the problem they need solved (too much time, not enough adult conversation) in the morning.

Katie Couric was the right person to solve the morning problem.

At night she has been all wrong.

We can learn some great lessons from Ms. Couric's career.  For example:

When you or I are thinking about starting a new business (whether an Etsy shop or large corporation) or a new job, what problem will we be helping people solve? What job will they be hiring our product to do?

Does the problem that we want to solve for people play to our strengths? If not, is there a job that needs to be done that does?

What do you do if there's a mismatch between the job you were hired to do and the job you want to do?

In your relationships, what job are your loved ones hiring you to do?  And you them?

P.S.  Thanks to Whitney Clayton for passing along Caitlin Flanagan's piece which, in turn, inspired this post.

Related posts:

Now the News -- Couric Still Isn't One of the Boys

HBR's Star Women Build Portable Skills

Play to your strengths

What is your dream?

Asking and answering the big questions

Fielding a 'dare to dream' team

We don't get our dreams done on our own.

We weren't meant to.

Which is why we need 'dare to dream' teams.

Like my 'dare to dream' creative team.

Brandon Jameson -- Brandon Jameson designed the logo and banner for 'dare to dream', everything Know Your Neighbor and my personal stationery. Brandon's design work visually captures what I try to convey in words.

LaNola Kathleen Stone -- In the first three issues of Organize Magazine, you saw Kathleen's images, as well as her work as Creative Director. Through her photography Kathleen captures the magnificence of people and places.


All rights reserved. LaNola Kathleen Stone, 2008.
Note: For those of you wondering where your 'Christmas 2007' card was, well here it is -- 'Spring 2008'. Will you make sure I have your correct mailing address?

Mallika Sundaramurthy -- Several years ago, Mallika brought a story I'd written to life through her painting; her latest feat is the myth of Psyche.

All images are copyright by Mallika Sundaramurthy and Whitney Johnson, 2008. 

As I analyze the dynamic of my relationship with this creative 'dream team', there seem to be some broadly applicable observations:

1. Start with short-term projects -- If you intend to start a business or non-profit, before expanding the scope of the relationship, work on a short-term project first, such as a benefit for the community or your children's school.

Lamentably, I don't always do this. Either because I'm too relationship-centered and/or overly excited about someone's dream, I sometimes impetuously move into a major project, without vetting my partner(s) and they me, only to find out later we can't work together: we have different timetables, different visions, different views on the give vs. get. That's when things become dicey. Take it from a sadder, poorer, but wiser girl.

2. Trust our collaborators' competence -- Once we've worked on a few limited scope projects and have fully worked out rules of engagement, it's important to trust our collaborators. If we're micro-managing, perhaps we just need to stop micro-managing. Or maybe we didn't pick our partners as well as we thought we did.

For example, after I broadstroked for Brandon what I wanted for the 'dare to dream' logo, he came back with something completely different which I didn't like. But because I'd loved his previous work, I was willing to 'live' with his vision for a few days, eventually realize that his vision was perfect, just perfect -- When we put our heads together, we experience systergy, and can accomplish our dreams.

3. Recognize that our collaborators will not be good at what we're good at - If we choose someone for a project because they can do what we cannot do (design, photograph, paint), the almost certain corollary is that we will be good at things they aren't.

It was not too long ago that I believed that if you couldn't spell you were dumb. Until. Until I discovered that there were some who thought I was dumb because I had (and have) a poor sense of direction (even after living in Manhattan for 10 years, when I came up out of the subway, and would begin to head east, you could be sure that I was heading west -- a true contrarian indicator). Am I dumb? No. Are people that don't spell well dumb? No. We are just smart in different ways - and when we can harness 'smart in different ways', we have the makings of a 'dare to dream' team.

4. Give people their due in terms of compensation and credit -- When our collaborators do good work, let's give them credit. Tell as many people as possible. Just because they don't ask for praise and/or compensation, doesn't mean they don't want or even need it. They may not know how to ask, or even what they are worth. What a gift we can give if we help our friends and co-workers to know their worth.

What 'dare to dream' project are you working on or thinking of undertaking? Do you have a 'dare to dream' team?

How are we helping our spouse/friends/colleagues with their dreams? Are we giving them enough information so that they can help us with ours?

To what extent are we as parents part of our children's 'dare to dream' team? Do we collaborate with them? We can't really do vet them, but we can trust their strengths, and not micro-manage.

What about the people that are part of the 'rearing our children' 'dare to dream' team? Their teachers, coaches, nannies, friends' parents? Do we trust and appreciate them?

Are we adequately compensating people for the work that they are doing whether via money, barter (an exchange of goods or services)? And if they ask not to be paid, are we insisting -- especially with women?

Related posts:
Spring cleaning and dreaming
Hero of support
Getting gratitude
Asking for what we want
Valuing what women do

Getting in the game

I went to a Celtics game last week -- my first actually.

I was neither a player, nor a cheerleader, but a spectator. 

But you know, I didn't feel like a spectator.

Perhaps because my friend Kim had purchased four tickets at the East End House's Cooking for a Cause benefit, and invited two up-and-coming professional women, and myself, along.  There is something empowering about paying our own way.  Remember the Destiny Child's song, all the honeys making money, throw your hands up at me?  Well, I'm throwing my hands up at Kim.

Then there were the remarkably short lines in the women's bathrooms, a metaphor, odd as it may seem, that women still aren't contributing as they could in the workplace.  Beth Peterson of life as a hero made the comment some weeks back that getting in the game can be so much easier, when someone invites us, and then shows us how, to play.  Being the oldest of the four women, I certainly hope that I am doing my share of inviting and teaching...

The winning shot of the evening was the systergy, the connecting and collaborating, as we discussed our career aspirations, and the challenge of balancing work, family, church, and life.

None of us were cheerleaders, nor were we any of us dribbling the ball down the court.

But we were cheering one another on -- and playing ball.

Spectators -- yes.

But in all the important ways, we were players in the game.

Our game.

Related posts:
The hazards of 'getting in the game'
Throw down your pom-poms
A down payment on our dream
Do you need to do-it-yourself?
Soundtracks:  finding our voice, telling our story

What is your dream?

Self-love, my liege, is not so vile a sin as self-neglecting.  William Shakespeare

After my 'dare to dream' presentation at Fusion last week, several women asked for my list of eight questions that I use for brainstorming.  I thought you'd like to see them too.

What do I think about when I don’t have to think about anything?  When I go to the bookstore, what kinds of books do I look at?  Which magazines do I leaf through?

What did I love to do as a young girl?

What skills or competencies have I acquired over my life, especially out of necessity rather than want?  How are they transferable?

What piece of me do I feel I have set aside?  And why did I?

What is something that I am really good at?

What has been my biggest challenge in life thus far?  Who would I be without this challenge?

What did my parents want to accomplish and didn’t?

Who are my heros and why?

Related posts:
Soundtracks:  finding our voice, telling our story
Blog I Like:  HELLOmynameisHeather
Play to your strengths
Getting gratitude
What I've learned by identifying my heros
Susan Minot's Evening

Exploring possibilities and presidential politics

On Saturday evening, my 11 year-old David announced, I think I'll watch the presidential debates.

You will?

My husband and I have talked about the upcoming election intermittently (upon telling our 7 year-old the basics of the democratic and republican platforms, she's already declared herself an Independent), but presidential politics isn't really part of our family's everyday patter.

Until yesterday.

Perhaps because early Friday morning, with the country astir over the Iowa caucuses, I thought -- wouldn't it be fun to attend a Mitt Romney town hall in advance of the New Hampshire primary, and wouldn't it be fun if David went with me. I'd never been to a political rally, neither had he, why not make this whole presidential campaign more tangible?

Photo courtesy of Emily Anthon

David was immediately 'in', so I called my friend Emily who is having the exhilarating experience of working on Mitt Romney's campaign (every presidential campaign is no doubt thrilling -- talk about some genuine head-butting); I asked Emily where and when and we were off.

So often I imagine doing something, especially something spontaneous, but rarely do I actually do it. I (perhaps you are too) am primed to stop at imagine, whether it's because I don't want to try something I'm not good at. Or in this case, be impractical? After all, why date an idea, if I'm not going to marry it?

So let's look at what happened simply because we went to New Hampshire for a few hours.

1) I practiced moving from imagining to exploring, an important aspect of daring to dream, and, in turn, opened the door to David exploring his possibilities.

2) David not only came along, and is more interested in debate than ever, he has a picture of himself with a presidential candidate: images can wield a powerful effect, positively or negatively, else the advertising industry would be out of business. David also tells me this photo will garner some oohs and aahs from his surprisingly (because we live in MA) conservative 5th grade classmates.

Photo courtesy of Emily Anthon -- I tried to take a decent picture, which is why they are looking at me, Emily gratefully got the shot

3) Presidential politics is now more real to us. David wanted to watch the debates, and when we wouldn't let him stay up to watch the democratic debate, thanks to Tivo, he watched it this morning.

Will this experience be pivotal for either of us?

Odds are no.

But isn't it true that the more we explore our possibilities, the more possibilities there are.

When have you recently listened to your gut, and not only imagined, but also explored?

Have you gone back and done a what if I hadn't, considering how your future changed because you explored?

P.S. There's a fun entry written by Elizabeth Williams sharing her experience of attending the democratic Iowa caucus. It just makes it all so more real, doesn't it? She's got great jewelry too.

Related posts:
Doorsteps, doors and dreams
Rock-climbing and rethinking our competence
imagine and Explore
Getting back in the saddle of our possibilities
What IF?

Telling my story to Pursue the Passion

Thanks to an introduction from Matt Langdon's The Hero Workshop, in early August I met with Brett Farmiloe and Zach Hubbell from Pursue the Passion. Both recent college grads, Brett and Zach have been on the road for 100+ days interviewing people who are passionate about their careers.

In embarking on their very own hero's journey, Brett et al were intrigued by the following two data points: Half the American workforce is not satisfied with their job, and only one-fifth apply passion toward their career.

When Brett interviewed me, he did what any good interviewer does; he asked good questions, and seemed genuinely interested in my story. If you'd like to read the blurb, and take a peek at the video clip, here it is. Then I'd be interested in your thoughts on the following:

Did you notice how the hero's journey of a man, differs from that of a woman?

If you were to be interviewed for 10 minutes about your story, what would you say?

Isn't it interesting that even in the U.S., there is still so much discontent? We may be placated, even pampered, but if we're not dreaming....

For any of you that read Of Corvettes and Porsches, you'll find the juxtaposition of that entry with this interview odd. My hope is that you'll take courage in my self-contradiction, that even as I am daring you to dream, and most of the time I do a pretty good job of walking my talk, I have my moments.

P.S. Off camera, I was able to ask Brett and Zach about their dreams. Their moxie is impressive: a dream, and a few dollars, and they were off.

I recently went rock climbing for the first time.

Scaling the face of a rock was so far outside my comfort zone that I suspected there was something to be learned about daring and dreaming.

Lesson #1 -- Surround ourselves with heros of support
When Whitney C, our host, asked a group of us who wanted to go rock climbing the next day, I immediately raised my hand. In a quieter moment, my husband expressed surprise and delight; he had fully expected I would stay behind. Five years ago, his prediction would have been accurate. Fear of heights, falling, looking clumsy. Yep, I would have opted out.

Are we surrounding ourselves with people who want us to be the hero of our story? People who, when they see us doing things differently than we have in the past, moving from the sidelines of our life to the center, encourage us? Are we, in turn, heros of support?

Photo courtesy of Kyle Hirsch

Lesson #2 -- Systergy bridges us from imagine to explore
I wanted to climb, but I was scared. Laurel, who had agreed to belay me, not only made sure there was so little slack in the rope that if I lost my footing I wouldn't fall more than a few inches, she continually shouted out "atta girls".

When we want to explore, and showing up is a feat in and of itself, being able to place ourselves in the capable hands of another, often bridges us from imagine to explore. Knowing that Laurel, and her husband Devon, were committed to helping me and the other neophytes in the group was a gift.

Photo courtesy of Seth Neilson

Lesson #3 -- Exploring helps us rethink our competence
Once I’d reached my summit, I was truly proud. By exploring, I had conquered (at least for the moment) my fear of climbing, looking clumsy, and especially of heights.

It is, however, interesting to me that while I love going fast (perhaps because speed is somehow emblematic of ambition), I don't love heights (symbolic of perspective?). When we go fast, we can only see to the horizon; when we go up, we see so so, so, much more. Could it be that our possibilities, indeed our magnificence, albeit glorious, frighten us just a wee bit?

What have you tried recently that you were afraid to do?

Why were you afraid?

Even if you were fairly clumsy, as I was rock climbing, how did you feel afterward?

What role did the people around you play?

What similarities do you see between belaying and mentoring? Parenting?

Are you ever overwhelmed by your own possibilities of who you are and what you can accomplish?

I am. Perhaps I'll try sky diving next.

Dream, do, detach. Sarah Ban Breathnach

Google lost about $13 billion worth of value on Thursday evening.

Why? -- you ask.

Wasn't its income up 28% over the past year?

Yup.

Isn't that pretty impressive? I mean, I'd like to see my income increase by 28% in twelve months.

It is impressive.

But....everyone expected income to go up by 29%.

What? People dumped GOOG because its income was 1% shy of expectations?

Yup.

A bit extreme isn't it?

Or is it?

If we dump a stock because it falls short of our expectations -- even though the actual outcome is impressive -- won't we also dump a dream?

Sarah Ban Breathnach writes, "Expectations are the emotional investment that our ego makes in a particular outcome. When we use expectations to measure a dream's success, we tie stones around our soul. Dreams [may] call for a leap of faith, a trusting that [Providence] will be our net, but they set our soal soaring."

Two years into pursuing a different dream, I continue to believe what I scribbled in the margin of Breathnach's book Simple Abundance -- [relinquishing expectations] could transform things -- but isn't it difficult not to expect, become attached even, to specific outcomes?

Certainly the Google shareholders were.

How do we know if "expecting" is eclipsing our "dreaming?"

When we spend time with our children, are we disappointed because they didn't want to read books with us? Or are we happy because, in letting them decide what we're going to do, we are 15 minutes closer to our dream of an enduring relationship with our children?

Whether our dream is to paint, write a book, produce a film, start a business, have we become attached to a specific outcome, an outcome that we have no control over (e.g. how others receive what we do?) or are we pursuing this dream because it's an imperative for us -- and we're willing to let Providence do the rest?

So, so, hard, but we'll get there.

Repeat after me (you too Google shareholders!)

Expectorate expectations.

And in Breathnach's words, "Dream, do, detach."

Ann M. Holmes' book is exactly what it purports to be, a crash course on starting your own business.

But it's her perspective that makes the book sing.

Ms. Holmes tells stories, including her own, which suggest that for many women becoming an entrepreneur is something that sort of, well, just happens.

Possibly even for you -- and for me.

Whether or not you know it, she writes, you have a business in you-- if any of the following sentiments sound familiar to you:

*I don't see what I need on the market, so I'll create it
*I know how to save my husband's company (Had never occurred to me; interesting!)
*The family firm needs my help (Again, interesting! Think Katharine Graham!)
*Forget corporate life. I want a day job I love!
*My clients are encouraging me to go out on my own (Margaret Thatcher's words come to mind)
*I need more flexibility in my schedule and a solid income (Happens all the time; just make sure you don't sell yourself short)
*To support my family, I have to make more money
*I need something to do to keep boredom away (We may be busy, but are we pursuing a dream?)

Will you quickly scan her list of questions?

What pops into your mind?

Write it down.

And then let the idea percolate....

I'm back in the saddle again. — Gene Autry (1907-1998), American cowboy actor and singer.

I registered, and made my hotel reservations for Ladies Rock Camp months ago.

Two days ago I cancelled my trip.

Camp started this morning, and so I'm sad.

I was on the verge of moving beyond just imagining to exploring my possibilities; on the threshold of finding my voice, discovering more of me.

But it won't happen this weekend.

There are times when circumstances beyond our control prevent us from exploring. I wonder though, if, more often than not, we lose our nerve.

It's probably good for us to sort through the why of our decisions. But it's more important that we never, never, never, never give up on exploring...

And when we fall off the saddle of our possibilities, we get right back up.

I'm going to.

Will you?

Photograph courtesy of Judy A. Mosby, one who has gotten back in the saddle many a time.

I have another terrific blog to share with you:  HELLOmynameisHeather!

1.   Heather's fabric designs are exquisite and happy. 

I believe that looking at beautiful objects, whether fabric, paintings, or flower beds, coaxes us into a 'dare to dream' frame of mind.

2.   Because Heather has gifts that I don't have -- apparel design, styling, photography -- I don't even begin to go to the place of anti-bounty.  I just feel delight when I look at her work. 

We can only be systergistic, helping one another as we dare to dream, when we appreciate others' competencies, as well as our own.

3.   Heather's work inspires me to create.  In 4th grade, I learned how to sew.  I loved buying fabric at San Jose's Pruneyard Mall, and in the succeeding days rushing home from school to sew.  What a sense of satisfaction I derived from making something and wearing it:  I still remember the first thing I made -- a sailor dress out of blue denim kettle cloth.  I wore it on the first day of 5th grade. 

Because I was so captivated by Heather's blog, I can't help but wonder if what I see there is tapping into something more profound than looking at beautiful fabric.  Could it be that her work is a tangible reminder to me (to us?) of how much joy we can have as we create -- whether it's an object, an event, or our lives.

What kinds of things do you do to put you in the frame of mind to dream?

What did you love to do as a child?   Are you still doing it?  If you aren't, what about that activity did you love?  Is is transferable?

Could this cherished childhood activity provide any clues about what you dream of doing?

Is there a website or blog that inspires you to dare to dream?  What is it?

P.S.  Thank you to Macy Robison for introducing me to Heather Bailey's work, and to Typepad Featured blog for the re-introduction.

My favorite thing is to go where I've never been. Diane Arbus

Every once in awhile I come home from an event, so thrilled by my discoveries of new people and ideas that I ask myself -- what if I hadn't gone? What IF I had only imagined and never explored?

This happened to me last week.

As I was driving home from New York, I kept thinking -- what if I hadn't gone to the BlogHer Business 07 conference?

It was there that I discovered Nelly Yusupova who can build a website that I need built, and teach how technology can be harnessed to help me, and in turn you, dare to dream. I also discovered Carmen Van Kerckhove, a 30 year-old Belgian-Chinese woman, whose blog has been a vehicle for finding her voice.

Then there was Elise Bauer, one of the WSJ's twenty hidden influencers of the web. Elise is doing precisely what Psyche's journey encourages us to do: embarking on a hero's journey because of and for relationships. Elise's technological expertise has allowed her to share recipes with millions of readers each month, which recipes can bring people together, whether families or communities, through the sharing of a meal.

And finally, had I not gone to New York, Elisa Camahort, one of BlogHer's co-founders, couldn't have shared with me the Pew Internet & American Life Project's finding that roughly 50% of all bloggers are blog-hers. Women may be under-represented in the press, film, and television, but we are not under-represented in the wide, wide world of blogs.

Which of course makes sense.

Because of the ease of blogging (have computer, can publish -- no rules to play by or political waters to navigate), many who would never have dreamed of being published in the world of old media, are now pointing, clicking and publishing here in the blogosphere.

As we blog, we are writing about who we are, what we care about, and we are finding our voices.

And telling our stories.

And we're the hero.

Have you had an experience recently during which the discovery of new people or ideas was so thrilling that you found yourself wondering, what if I hadn't shown up?

If you know that you want to write, but writing and publishing a book is too daunting for the moment, why not write-by-installment via a blog?

I'm not going to leave my husband and children and take up with a rock band, but...

...when I saw O's blurb on the Ladies Rock Camp, a weekend fundraiser in which women learn how to play instruments and write songs, I knew this was something I didn't want to just imagine or think about, it was a possibility I wanted to explore.

I suppose I have been noodling on this possibility for several weeks now.

In February, my husband, kids and I went to visit our friends, Renee and Troy Tribe. Troy and the three oldest kids have started a rock band. After dinner, they performed '70s classics "Smoke on the Water" and "Takin' Care of Business" in their basement studio. It was a highlight of the vacation.

I found myself thinking, why not?

But I just imagined.... and then my imagining was done, with no exploratory follow-up.

Which is what we often do.

No surprise really.

We are primed to stop at imagine, whether it's because we don't want to be disappointed, or vulnerable, because we may not be very good. Or we don't want to be impractical. Why spend the time if we aren't really going to pursue something, to seriously commit to it?

There's an irony in this.

If we will allow ourselves to move beyond imagine to explore, knowing that we get to say no at any point, it's really quite liberating.

We have so many commitments, commitments that we want and need to keep, to our God, family, friends, community, work.

But there are some things we don't have to commit to. We get to do these things for a day, a week, even a month, and then if we want to, we can be done with it, and go on to imagine and explore another possibility.

Like Ladies' Rock Camp.

What possibility have you been imagining or daydreaming about, but haven't yet explored?

When you have moved from imagining to exploring, did you have fun?

What did you discover about yourself that you hadn't known previously?

To realize their dreams, women need to understand why they are willing to walk away from them. Anna Fels

It took a nanosecond -- less than a nanosecond.

I had just read: “O, the Oprah Magazine, announces a contest for 50 lucky women to win a spa vacation with Oprah Winfrey, filled with life lessons and little indulgences at Miraval Resort, Tucson.”

And almost before I could form the thought, “What an amazing experience; I’m going to enter,” one of those ne'er-do-well thoughts pounced, which was:

"I can’t."

Why? Does it cost money to enter?

Yep. About a dollar when I include postage.

Ok, so not really. Or at least it doesn’t have to cost much.

So why not enter? Are you embarrassed to say that you like Oprah?

How can I not like a fairy godmother?

Why then? Can you not figure out what to say on the postcard?

I guess I could just tell the truth. Something like “who wouldn’t want to spend 5 days and 4 nights with 49 women from whom I can learn and delight in, all the while observing Oprah, Gayle et al up close and personal?”

So I guess I do know what to say.

By this time I’ve peeled back so many onion layers of excuses, I’m on the verge of tears, but ready to get to the real why. Which is: I don’t think it’s okay to ask for what I want. Asking for what I want can be almost unbearably uncomfortable; the more I want something, the greater the discomfort.

Anna Fels writes: “In both the public and the private spheres…women are facing the reality that in order to be seen as feminine, they must provide or relinquish resources –including recognition—to others.” She continues, “the expectation is so deeply rooted in the culture’s ideals of femininity that it is largely unconscious.”

Maybe it’s also because no matter how successful I become, I just can’t quite believe that I’m Rachel and that I can ask for what I want. No matter how far I’ve come, Leah’s still lurking inside me.

Once I figured this out, the gauntlet had been thrown down, and I had to enter the contest.

Will I be sad if I’m not chosen from the possible 100,000+ women that enter the contest?

Of course, I’ll be sad.

But I'll be more happy than sad - because for a brief moment, Leah has left the building.

P.S. Here's the pOstcard: Thanks to Mallika Sundaramurthy, a talented up-and-coming artist, for bringing my idea to life!

Last night, I finally had the chance to watch American Idol's Memphis and New York auditions. One of the true standouts of the evening was shy, and very nervous, 28-year old Melinda Doolittle.

Because she's a background singer by profession, straight-shooter Simon asked “Do you think fall off the stage, break your leg, and I’ll take your place?” (Thank you to the Reality TV blog for both the photo and excerpts from her interchange with the judges.)

Melinda's response: “Oh goodness no, for me it’s fun and I’ve kind of always loved being in the background. It's my comfort zone, so that’s been my fun little place, and I can be there and they can do their thing.”

Simon drills down further, "So what's changed?"

Her response is the keeper phrase: "I know that for me I need to get over the fear of standing in front of people by myself."

Bingo!

Think about it. Melinda's 28; she could have auditioned as early as 22, but to my knowledge, this was her first go at it.

She went on to sing a moving rendition of Stevie Wonder's "For Once in My Life".

Yes, I'm biased because I love Stevie Wonder; his "Songs in the Key of Life" collection remains one of my favorites. But song choice alone isn't enough to give us those goosebumps we get when we hear or see something special.

And Melinda is special.

In facing the fear of auditioning for American Idol, Melinda has moved herself to the center of her story, throwing down those pom-poms with a flourish!

Atta girl Melinda!

You have learned something. That always feels at first as if you had lost something. H.G. Wells

More than once when I have wanted one of my girlfriends to go somewhere with me or do something, I have cavalierly said, “just get a babysitter” or “why can’t your husband watch them for a few hours?” or “one of your friends has asked you repeatedly to let her watch your children, why not take her up on it?”

And when my friends didn’t give in to my pleading and leave their children with a sitter for an hour or two, I just couldn’t understand why they hadn’t. It seemed so simple, so straightforward, especially when we could both readily cite the laundry list of quotations as to why they should “take time for yourself, you’ll feel better, ready to face the world.”

But even with ample opportunity to get away for a few hours they didn’t do it. And I just haven’t understood this – at all.

Until last week.

On Monday afternoon I received a call from the BBC based in Washington D.C. As the director of public relations for The Church of Jesus Christ (aka Mormons) in Greater Boston, when reporters call and want to meet with members of my church, it’s my job to make that happen. And with the former governor of Massachusetts, Mitt Romney, expected to become a candidate for president of the United States, there’s a lot of curiosity about my faith right now.

So the BBC called on Monday, and they wanted to do their interviews on Wednesday. Ordinarily I would have liaised with the BBC, arranging for the interviews, and we’d be done. But I had to go out of town and so I couldn’t set up the appointments – and I needed to delegate that responsibility.

Surprisingly, I found this really difficult to do. As I analyzed why I was so disconcerted by delegating this job to someone else, I found myself feeling guilty and concerned about imposing on my committee member – after all she’s busy too.

But then I realized that what I was really feeling was Fear.

Fear that in not doing “my job”, my identity would rub away.

Let me see if I can explain what I mean.

Each of us has an identity, probably several, a way of defining who we are -- daughter, sister, mother, wife, doctor, investment professional, etc. Though I think each of us has many identities, we usually have a primary identity which tends to be related to whatever we spend most of our time doing. For me, because much of my last fifteen years has been related to my career, my identity is centered on myself as a worker, a gal who goes out gets stuff done. When I get stuff done in the community or workplace I shore up my identity. In turn, when I delegate or give away those "tasks to be done", I perceive that I am weakening that identity. (Oh, bounty – wherefore art thou?)

The paradox of this is that unless I am willing to let go of some of my can-do identity, there isn’t room for me to develop other pieces of myself, like the mothering piece that I wanted to develop (and is part of why I left my gig on Wall Street).

Is this what happens with each us?

If it is, and I believe that it is, as I encourage you to dream, I really am daring you--maybe even double dog daring you to dream. Because for you to find another piece of who you are, you have to rearrange the furniture in your mind and heart to make room for the new piece, possibly discarding a little bit of who you think you are right now. Which, because of the fear, can be tough.

And so with this blog, dated January 22, 2007, I promise that I will be supportive, gently encouraging you – even as I dare you – to become more of who you are …

In the meantime, how about I do some more delegating, you go get a babysitter, and let’s get to dreaming!

Is there a something that you have wanted to do recently, if only for a few hours, that you just wouldn’t let yourself do?

Can you jot down a few of the reasons why you wouldn’t you let yourself do it?

If you find yourself repeatedly wanting to do this thing, will you promise yourself to do it next time – knowing full well that you will be just a little bit uncomfortable?

After a few days, do you still feel uncomfortable, or just a little bit happier?

Remember when you are learning something, it may feel at first as if you’ve lost something!

What the mother sings to the cradle goes all the way down to the coffin. Henry Ward Beecher

“Mom – why are you discouraging me?” asked my 10-year old with frustration. Within a day after auditioning for a local play, and not yet knowing if any of us had gotten parts, I found myself saying: “You know David, there aren’t very many parts for boys your age…. so don’t be too disappointed if you don’t get a part.”

They had just tumbled out. And rather than my son finding these words comforting, he couldn’t understand why I was being so unsupportive. After all, one of our family rules is “Johnson’s support each other.”

But, but, but… I began to defend my words to myself, I’m just trying to protect him. I don’t want him to be disappointed. Oh really? Protect him, or protect me?

“Mom – why are you discouraging me?”

Here I am, day after day, continually encouraging everyone I come in contact with, especially women, to “dare to dream,” but to my child I say “don’t be disappointed if you don’t get it.”

If I’m not saying this to my friends and colleagues, but I am to my children, then it must be partly about me. To badly paraphrase Tolstoy, when it comes to family, we sometimes don’t know where we end, and others begin.

Which begs the question -- did my mother say this to me?

And her mother to her, back through the generations?

More importantly, when we heard our parents utter some variation on the theme of “don’t be disappointed!” did we hear “Honey, I love you?” Or did we instead hear, “I don’t believe in you. I don’t really think you can do this?”

Happily, I can change. You can change.

Which is what I tried to do this past week.

David decided he wanted to go to an open casting call for PBS’s Fetch! with Ruff Ruffman, an Apprentice-style show featuring 10-14 year-old children. Now I knew the odds of his being chosen were small. Not only did I estimate that at least 350 kids auditioned, David just turned 10. And if I were the casting director, I would want the cast to skew older, not younger.

But, because I’m learning, I didn’t say a word.

It was SO hard.

I had to gate those words that wanted to tumble out, begging to sally forth, as if they were caged dogs eager for a run.

But I did it; and went one better.

Instead of saying, “You might be disappointed,” I said, “David, I’m happy that you are figuring out what kinds of things you like, that you took the initiative, that you went after what you wanted.”

We may not have heard words of encouragment from our parents…. but we can do things differently; the children in our lives can hear these words from us. And oh will they ever hear them, because Mum’s is the word.

So, David, -- you came, you saw, you conquered (your fear, and a just a little bit of mine!)

I am so proud of you!

In the few hours after you read this blog, is there someone who is taking on something new -- that is really hard for them -- that you can reach out to (whether a friend, family member, or especially yourself) and say "I am so proud of you?"

Rock climbing and rethinking our competence

I recently went rock climbing for the first time.

Scaling the face of a rock was so far outside my comfort zone that I suspected there was something to be learned about daring and dreaming.

Lesson #1 -- Surround ourselves with heros of support
When Whitney C, our host, asked a group of us who wanted to go rock climbing the next day, I immediately raised my hand. In a quieter moment, my husband expressed surprise and delight; he had fully expected I would stay behind. Five years ago, his prediction would have been accurate. Fear of heights, falling, looking clumsy. Yep, I would have opted out.

Are we surrounding ourselves with people who want us to be the hero of our story? People who, when they see us doing things differently than we have in the past, moving from the sidelines of our life to the center, encourage us? Are we, in turn, heros of support?

Photo courtesy of Kyle Hirsch

Lesson #2 -- Systergy bridges us from imagine to explore
I wanted to climb, but I was scared. Laurel, who had agreed to belay me, not only made sure there was so little slack in the rope that if I lost my footing I wouldn't fall more than a few inches, she continually shouted out "atta girls".

When we want to explore, and showing up is a feat in and of itself, being able to place ourselves in the capable hands of another, often bridges us from imagine to explore. Knowing that Laurel, and her husband Devon, were committed to helping me and the other neophytes in the group was a gift.

Photo courtesy of Seth Neilson

Lesson #3 -- Exploring helps us rethink our competence
Once I’d reached my summit, I was truly proud. By exploring, I had conquered (at least for the moment) my fear of climbing, looking clumsy, and especially of heights.

It is, however, interesting to me that while I love going fast (perhaps because speed is somehow emblematic of ambition), I don't love heights (symbolic of perspective?). When we go fast, we can only see to the horizon; when we go up, we see so so, so, much more. Could it be that our possibilities, indeed our magnificence, albeit glorious, frighten us just a wee bit?

What have you tried recently that you were afraid to do?

Why were you afraid?

Even if you were fairly clumsy, as I was rock climbing, how did you feel afterward?

What role did the people around you play?

What similarities do you see between belaying and mentoring? Parenting?

Are you ever overwhelmed by your own possibilities of who you are and what you can accomplish?

I am. Perhaps I'll try sky diving next.

Google's lesson on dreams vs. expectations

Dream, do, detach. Sarah Ban Breathnach

Google lost about $13 billion worth of value on Thursday evening.

Why? -- you ask.

Wasn't its income up 28% over the past year?

Yup.

Isn't that pretty impressive? I mean, I'd like to see my income increase by 28% in twelve months.

It is impressive.

But....everyone expected income to go up by 29%.

What? People dumped GOOG because its income was 1% shy of expectations?

Yup.

A bit extreme isn't it?

Or is it?

If we dump a stock because it falls short of our expectations -- even though the actual outcome is impressive -- won't we also dump a dream?

Sarah Ban Breathnach writes, "Expectations are the emotional investment that our ego makes in a particular outcome. When we use expectations to measure a dream's success, we tie stones around our soul. Dreams [may] call for a leap of faith, a trusting that [Providence] will be our net, but they set our soal soaring."

Two years into pursuing a different dream, I continue to believe what I scribbled in the margin of Breathnach's book Simple Abundance -- [relinquishing expectations] could transform things -- but isn't it difficult not to expect, become attached even, to specific outcomes?

Certainly the Google shareholders were.

How do we know if "expecting" is eclipsing our "dreaming?"

When we spend time with our children, are we disappointed because they didn't want to read books with us? Or are we happy because, in letting them decide what we're going to do, we are 15 minutes closer to our dream of an enduring relationship with our children?

Whether our dream is to paint, write a book, produce a film, start a business, have we become attached to a specific outcome, an outcome that we have no control over (e.g. how others receive what we do?) or are we pursuing this dream because it's an imperative for us -- and we're willing to let Providence do the rest?

So, so, hard, but we'll get there.

Repeat after me (you too Google shareholders!)

Expectorate expectations.

And in Breathnach's words, "Dream, do, detach."

Book I Like: There's a Business in Every Woman

Ann M. Holmes' book is exactly what it purports to be, a crash course on starting your own business.

But it's her perspective that makes the book sing.

Ms. Holmes tells stories, including her own, which suggest that for many women becoming an entrepreneur is something that sort of, well, just happens.

Possibly even for you -- and for me.

Whether or not you know it, she writes, you have a business in you-- if any of the following sentiments sound familiar to you:

*I don't see what I need on the market, so I'll create it
*I know how to save my husband's company (Had never occurred to me; interesting!)
*The family firm needs my help (Again, interesting! Think Katharine Graham!)
*Forget corporate life. I want a day job I love!
*My clients are encouraging me to go out on my own (Margaret Thatcher's words come to mind)
*I need more flexibility in my schedule and a solid income (Happens all the time; just make sure you don't sell yourself short)
*To support my family, I have to make more money
*I need something to do to keep boredom away (We may be busy, but are we pursuing a dream?)

Will you quickly scan her list of questions?

What pops into your mind?

Write it down.

And then let the idea percolate....

Getting back in the saddle of our possibilities

I'm back in the saddle again. — Gene Autry (1907-1998), American cowboy actor and singer.

I registered, and made my hotel reservations for Ladies Rock Camp months ago.

Two days ago I cancelled my trip.

Camp started this morning, and so I'm sad.

I was on the verge of moving beyond just imagining to exploring my possibilities; on the threshold of finding my voice, discovering more of me.

But it won't happen this weekend.

There are times when circumstances beyond our control prevent us from exploring. I wonder though, if, more often than not, we lose our nerve.

It's probably good for us to sort through the why of our decisions. But it's more important that we never, never, never, never give up on exploring...

And when we fall off the saddle of our possibilities, we get right back up.

I'm going to.

Will you?

Photograph courtesy of Judy A. Mosby, one who has gotten back in the saddle many a time.

Blog I Like: HELLOmynameisHeather

I have another terrific blog to share with you:  HELLOmynameisHeather!

1.   Heather's fabric designs are exquisite and happy. 

I believe that looking at beautiful objects, whether fabric, paintings, or flower beds, coaxes us into a 'dare to dream' frame of mind.

2.   Because Heather has gifts that I don't have -- apparel design, styling, photography -- I don't even begin to go to the place of anti-bounty.  I just feel delight when I look at her work. 

We can only be systergistic, helping one another as we dare to dream, when we appreciate others' competencies, as well as our own.

3.   Heather's work inspires me to create.  In 4th grade, I learned how to sew.  I loved buying fabric at San Jose's Pruneyard Mall, and in the succeeding days rushing home from school to sew.  What a sense of satisfaction I derived from making something and wearing it:  I still remember the first thing I made -- a sailor dress out of blue denim kettle cloth.  I wore it on the first day of 5th grade. 

Because I was so captivated by Heather's blog, I can't help but wonder if what I see there is tapping into something more profound than looking at beautiful fabric.  Could it be that her work is a tangible reminder to me (to us?) of how much joy we can have as we create -- whether it's an object, an event, or our lives.

What kinds of things do you do to put you in the frame of mind to dream?

What did you love to do as a child?   Are you still doing it?  If you aren't, what about that activity did you love?  Is is transferable?

Could this cherished childhood activity provide any clues about what you dream of doing?

Is there a website or blog that inspires you to dare to dream?  What is it?

P.S.  Thank you to Macy Robison for introducing me to Heather Bailey's work, and to Typepad Featured blog for the re-introduction.

What IF?

My favorite thing is to go where I've never been. Diane Arbus

Every once in awhile I come home from an event, so thrilled by my discoveries of new people and ideas that I ask myself -- what if I hadn't gone? What IF I had only imagined and never explored?

This happened to me last week.

As I was driving home from New York, I kept thinking -- what if I hadn't gone to the BlogHer Business 07 conference?

It was there that I discovered Nelly Yusupova who can build a website that I need built, and teach how technology can be harnessed to help me, and in turn you, dare to dream. I also discovered Carmen Van Kerckhove, a 30 year-old Belgian-Chinese woman, whose blog has been a vehicle for finding her voice.

Then there was Elise Bauer, one of the WSJ's twenty hidden influencers of the web. Elise is doing precisely what Psyche's journey encourages us to do: embarking on a hero's journey because of and for relationships. Elise's technological expertise has allowed her to share recipes with millions of readers each month, which recipes can bring people together, whether families or communities, through the sharing of a meal.

And finally, had I not gone to New York, Elisa Camahort, one of BlogHer's co-founders, couldn't have shared with me the Pew Internet & American Life Project's finding that roughly 50% of all bloggers are blog-hers. Women may be under-represented in the press, film, and television, but we are not under-represented in the wide, wide world of blogs.

Which of course makes sense.

Because of the ease of blogging (have computer, can publish -- no rules to play by or political waters to navigate), many who would never have dreamed of being published in the world of old media, are now pointing, clicking and publishing here in the blogosphere.

As we blog, we are writing about who we are, what we care about, and we are finding our voices.

And telling our stories.

And we're the hero.

Have you had an experience recently during which the discovery of new people or ideas was so thrilling that you found yourself wondering, what if I hadn't shown up?

If you know that you want to write, but writing and publishing a book is too daunting for the moment, why not write-by-installment via a blog?

imagine and Explore

I'm not going to leave my husband and children and take up with a rock band, but...

...when I saw O's blurb on the Ladies Rock Camp, a weekend fundraiser in which women learn how to play instruments and write songs, I knew this was something I didn't want to just imagine or think about, it was a possibility I wanted to explore.

I suppose I have been noodling on this possibility for several weeks now.

In February, my husband, kids and I went to visit our friends, Renee and Troy Tribe. Troy and the three oldest kids have started a rock band. After dinner, they performed '70s classics "Smoke on the Water" and "Takin' Care of Business" in their basement studio. It was a highlight of the vacation.

I found myself thinking, why not?

But I just imagined.... and then my imagining was done, with no exploratory follow-up.

Which is what we often do.

No surprise really.

We are primed to stop at imagine, whether it's because we don't want to be disappointed, or vulnerable, because we may not be very good. Or we don't want to be impractical. Why spend the time if we aren't really going to pursue something, to seriously commit to it?

There's an irony in this.

If we will allow ourselves to move beyond imagine to explore, knowing that we get to say no at any point, it's really quite liberating.

We have so many commitments, commitments that we want and need to keep, to our God, family, friends, community, work.

But there are some things we don't have to commit to. We get to do these things for a day, a week, even a month, and then if we want to, we can be done with it, and go on to imagine and explore another possibility.

Like Ladies' Rock Camp.

What possibility have you been imagining or daydreaming about, but haven't yet explored?

When you have moved from imagining to exploring, did you have fun?

What did you discover about yourself that you hadn't known previously?

Leah leaves the building

To realize their dreams, women need to understand why they are willing to walk away from them. Anna Fels

It took a nanosecond -- less than a nanosecond.

I had just read: “O, the Oprah Magazine, announces a contest for 50 lucky women to win a spa vacation with Oprah Winfrey, filled with life lessons and little indulgences at Miraval Resort, Tucson.”

And almost before I could form the thought, “What an amazing experience; I’m going to enter,” one of those ne'er-do-well thoughts pounced, which was:

"I can’t."

Why? Does it cost money to enter?

Yep. About a dollar when I include postage.

Ok, so not really. Or at least it doesn’t have to cost much.

So why not enter? Are you embarrassed to say that you like Oprah?

How can I not like a fairy godmother?

Why then? Can you not figure out what to say on the postcard?

I guess I could just tell the truth. Something like “who wouldn’t want to spend 5 days and 4 nights with 49 women from whom I can learn and delight in, all the while observing Oprah, Gayle et al up close and personal?”

So I guess I do know what to say.

By this time I’ve peeled back so many onion layers of excuses, I’m on the verge of tears, but ready to get to the real why. Which is: I don’t think it’s okay to ask for what I want. Asking for what I want can be almost unbearably uncomfortable; the more I want something, the greater the discomfort.

Anna Fels writes: “In both the public and the private spheres…women are facing the reality that in order to be seen as feminine, they must provide or relinquish resources –including recognition—to others.” She continues, “the expectation is so deeply rooted in the culture’s ideals of femininity that it is largely unconscious.”

Maybe it’s also because no matter how successful I become, I just can’t quite believe that I’m Rachel and that I can ask for what I want. No matter how far I’ve come, Leah’s still lurking inside me.

Once I figured this out, the gauntlet had been thrown down, and I had to enter the contest.

Will I be sad if I’m not chosen from the possible 100,000+ women that enter the contest?

Of course, I’ll be sad.

But I'll be more happy than sad - because for a brief moment, Leah has left the building.

P.S. Here's the pOstcard: Thanks to Mallika Sundaramurthy, a talented up-and-coming artist, for bringing my idea to life!

Doolittle Does a Lot

Last night, I finally had the chance to watch American Idol's Memphis and New York auditions. One of the true standouts of the evening was shy, and very nervous, 28-year old Melinda Doolittle.

Because she's a background singer by profession, straight-shooter Simon asked “Do you think fall off the stage, break your leg, and I’ll take your place?” (Thank you to the Reality TV blog for both the photo and excerpts from her interchange with the judges.)

Melinda's response: “Oh goodness no, for me it’s fun and I’ve kind of always loved being in the background. It's my comfort zone, so that’s been my fun little place, and I can be there and they can do their thing.”

Simon drills down further, "So what's changed?"

Her response is the keeper phrase: "I know that for me I need to get over the fear of standing in front of people by myself."

Bingo!

Think about it. Melinda's 28; she could have auditioned as early as 22, but to my knowledge, this was her first go at it.

She went on to sing a moving rendition of Stevie Wonder's "For Once in My Life".

Yes, I'm biased because I love Stevie Wonder; his "Songs in the Key of Life" collection remains one of my favorites. But song choice alone isn't enough to give us those goosebumps we get when we hear or see something special.

And Melinda is special.

In facing the fear of auditioning for American Idol, Melinda has moved herself to the center of her story, throwing down those pom-poms with a flourish!

Atta girl Melinda!

Identity Crisis

You have learned something. That always feels at first as if you had lost something. H.G. Wells

More than once when I have wanted one of my girlfriends to go somewhere with me or do something, I have cavalierly said, “just get a babysitter” or “why can’t your husband watch them for a few hours?” or “one of your friends has asked you repeatedly to let her watch your children, why not take her up on it?”

And when my friends didn’t give in to my pleading and leave their children with a sitter for an hour or two, I just couldn’t understand why they hadn’t. It seemed so simple, so straightforward, especially when we could both readily cite the laundry list of quotations as to why they should “take time for yourself, you’ll feel better, ready to face the world.”

But even with ample opportunity to get away for a few hours they didn’t do it. And I just haven’t understood this – at all.

Until last week.

On Monday afternoon I received a call from the BBC based in Washington D.C. As the director of public relations for The Church of Jesus Christ (aka Mormons) in Greater Boston, when reporters call and want to meet with members of my church, it’s my job to make that happen. And with the former governor of Massachusetts, Mitt Romney, expected to become a candidate for president of the United States, there’s a lot of curiosity about my faith right now.

So the BBC called on Monday, and they wanted to do their interviews on Wednesday. Ordinarily I would have liaised with the BBC, arranging for the interviews, and we’d be done. But I had to go out of town and so I couldn’t set up the appointments – and I needed to delegate that responsibility.

Surprisingly, I found this really difficult to do. As I analyzed why I was so disconcerted by delegating this job to someone else, I found myself feeling guilty and concerned about imposing on my committee member – after all she’s busy too.

But then I realized that what I was really feeling was Fear.

Fear that in not doing “my job”, my identity would rub away.

Let me see if I can explain what I mean.

Each of us has an identity, probably several, a way of defining who we are -- daughter, sister, mother, wife, doctor, investment professional, etc. Though I think each of us has many identities, we usually have a primary identity which tends to be related to whatever we spend most of our time doing. For me, because much of my last fifteen years has been related to my career, my identity is centered on myself as a worker, a gal who goes out gets stuff done. When I get stuff done in the community or workplace I shore up my identity. In turn, when I delegate or give away those "tasks to be done", I perceive that I am weakening that identity. (Oh, bounty – wherefore art thou?)

The paradox of this is that unless I am willing to let go of some of my can-do identity, there isn’t room for me to develop other pieces of myself, like the mothering piece that I wanted to develop (and is part of why I left my gig on Wall Street).

Is this what happens with each us?

If it is, and I believe that it is, as I encourage you to dream, I really am daring you--maybe even double dog daring you to dream. Because for you to find another piece of who you are, you have to rearrange the furniture in your mind and heart to make room for the new piece, possibly discarding a little bit of who you think you are right now. Which, because of the fear, can be tough.

And so with this blog, dated January 22, 2007, I promise that I will be supportive, gently encouraging you – even as I dare you – to become more of who you are …

In the meantime, how about I do some more delegating, you go get a babysitter, and let’s get to dreaming!

Is there a something that you have wanted to do recently, if only for a few hours, that you just wouldn’t let yourself do?

Can you jot down a few of the reasons why you wouldn’t you let yourself do it?

If you find yourself repeatedly wanting to do this thing, will you promise yourself to do it next time – knowing full well that you will be just a little bit uncomfortable?

After a few days, do you still feel uncomfortable, or just a little bit happier?

Remember when you are learning something, it may feel at first as if you’ve lost something!

Mum's the word

What the mother sings to the cradle goes all the way down to the coffin. Henry Ward Beecher

“Mom – why are you discouraging me?” asked my 10-year old with frustration. Within a day after auditioning for a local play, and not yet knowing if any of us had gotten parts, I found myself saying: “You know David, there aren’t very many parts for boys your age…. so don’t be too disappointed if you don’t get a part.”

They had just tumbled out. And rather than my son finding these words comforting, he couldn’t understand why I was being so unsupportive. After all, one of our family rules is “Johnson’s support each other.”

But, but, but… I began to defend my words to myself, I’m just trying to protect him. I don’t want him to be disappointed. Oh really? Protect him, or protect me?

“Mom – why are you discouraging me?”

Here I am, day after day, continually encouraging everyone I come in contact with, especially women, to “dare to dream,” but to my child I say “don’t be disappointed if you don’t get it.”

If I’m not saying this to my friends and colleagues, but I am to my children, then it must be partly about me. To badly paraphrase Tolstoy, when it comes to family, we sometimes don’t know where we end, and others begin.

Which begs the question -- did my mother say this to me?

And her mother to her, back through the generations?

More importantly, when we heard our parents utter some variation on the theme of “don’t be disappointed!” did we hear “Honey, I love you?” Or did we instead hear, “I don’t believe in you. I don’t really think you can do this?”

Happily, I can change. You can change.

Which is what I tried to do this past week.

David decided he wanted to go to an open casting call for PBS’s Fetch! with Ruff Ruffman, an Apprentice-style show featuring 10-14 year-old children. Now I knew the odds of his being chosen were small. Not only did I estimate that at least 350 kids auditioned, David just turned 10. And if I were the casting director, I would want the cast to skew older, not younger.

But, because I’m learning, I didn’t say a word.

It was SO hard.

I had to gate those words that wanted to tumble out, begging to sally forth, as if they were caged dogs eager for a run.

But I did it; and went one better.

Instead of saying, “You might be disappointed,” I said, “David, I’m happy that you are figuring out what kinds of things you like, that you took the initiative, that you went after what you wanted.”

We may not have heard words of encouragment from our parents…. but we can do things differently; the children in our lives can hear these words from us. And oh will they ever hear them, because Mum’s is the word.

So, David, -- you came, you saw, you conquered (your fear, and a just a little bit of mine!)

I am so proud of you!

In the few hours after you read this blog, is there someone who is taking on something new -- that is really hard for them -- that you can reach out to (whether a friend, family member, or especially yourself) and say "I am so proud of you?"