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?

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

Learning to 'Let it Be'

I was so disappointed by Brooke White's performance last night on American Idol.

After her amazing rendition of 'Let it Be' in early March, she's gone on to have two pretty bad weeks.

Contrast Brooke to David Cook.  After he was roundly criticized by the judges, David went right on picking the right song, the right arrangement.

Why is Brooke, in my opinion, having difficulty?

Because she's giving her power away to the judges.

In the article Do Women Lack Ambition?, Cornell psychologist Anna Fels writes that our cultural ideals of femininity do not include women asking for resources, whether those resources involve time, money, praise.

Until last night, I hadn't considered the possibility that power was a resource.

Yet in trusting the judges more than herself, Brooke has given away her power.

And David Cook hasn't.

Men generally don't.

They listen -- Yes -- but they also seem to do a better job of trusting themselves.

We can learn from them.

Because when we do trust ourselves, we move to the center of our story, becoming the hero....

Like Brooke did when she sang Let it be.

Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be.
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be.

P.S.  If you want to read some great commentary by vocal coach Macy Robison on each week's American Idol, click here.

Related posts:
Asking for what we want
NY Times:  For Girls, It's Be Yourself...
Why we love American Idol
Doolittle's Leah leave the building
Finding our reality in Reality TV

Soundtracks: finding our voice, telling our story

Before I list the songs that comprise my current top five (for my top 40s), may I share with you some of the 'dare to dream' lessons learned from this six-part series 'Tell your soundtrack story'?

1)  Re-listening to beloved childhood music helps us become the hero of our story

As I re-listened to music I loved as a girl, I remembered (I really had forgotten) that I once LOVED making music, playing the piano in particular.  Which is why my recently volunteering/being asked to play the piano every Sunday for the children at our church is such a gift; I'm rediscovering the making of music, and taking back something that I loved.  I'm even toying with trying to compose a children's song.  Any lyricists or poets among you?

As you listen to music from the time in your life when you still knew you were Rachel (see Thank Heaven for Little Rachels below), what do you remember about who and how you wanted to be?  How can this remembering help you to be the hero of your story?

2)  Are any of the songs/musicans we loved as teenagers the keepers of our dreams?

In his book 'This is Your Brain on Music', Daniel Levitin writes "Safety plays a role for a lot of us in choosing music...To an extent, we surrender to music when we listen to it -- we allow ourselves to trust the composers and musicians with a part of our hearts and spirits."  (see Soundtrack Story:  Career, Motherhood and 9/11 below)  Remember how each of my soundtracks had a song that I labeled as my 'imagine and explore' songs, from 'Everybody wants to be a Cat', 'Play that Funky Music White Boy' to 'Smooth'?

As you re-listen to music you loved as a teenager, is it accurate to say that these songs felt safe to you?  What did you aspire to be or do that you couldn't share with others, but shared with the musicians you listened to?  Is it time to take this piece of our selves back?

3)  Soundtracks tell the story of finding our voice

It is interesting to me that I loved Helen Reddy's 'I am Woman' thirty years ago, but it is striking that my 'girl power' songs have evolved from the myth of Psyche's head-butting to fleece-gathering 'girl power' (see Second Thoughts on Psyche's 2nd Task below) whether India.Arie or Zap Mama's songs.

What will your soundtrack say about the finding of your voice?

Virtual Insanity -- In the spring of 2005, just weeks prior to my leaving Merrill Lynch, I was in Holland in the back of yet another cab.  Jamiroquai's 'Virtual Insanity' came on the radio.  I was so taken with the music, I asked the driver to turn the volume up really loud.  This song, more than any other, reminds me of the thrill of imagining and exploring and then daring.

Sweetest Someone that I Know -- It wasn't until my husband and I had been married for over 20 years that I heard a song that pinpointed how I feel about him.  It is fitting that this song came from the mind and heart and voice of Stevie Wonder.  It also reminds me that when we as women undertake the hero's journey, the journey only has meaning if it helps us be happy at home.

Miss Q'In - Love the music.  Love the lyrics more.  Zap Mama distills into one song my hope for me and for all women -- that we may travel far and wide, seeking to be a princess, but eventually we will realize that what we want is to be 'me'.  Such a Rachel, learning-to-be-the-hero-of-our-story, song.

For Good -- I've written extensively on this song (see Why I Like Wicked below), but at its most basic this is my systergy song.  It always reminds me how happy and grateful I am to have so many women with whom I can share the dreaming and daring.

Beautiful Flower --  India.Arie is herself a huge admirer of Stevie Wonder.  Yet another Rachel, myth of Psyche song.  For more details, see the 'A Song to dream by' below.

P.S.  One of my runner-up songs is Tamyra Gray's Ha Ha.  This song gives utterance to the anger that I, and perhaps you, sometimes feel when what we want to give the world isn't received.  (Note too that I was only willing to give it runner-up status -- some interesting psychology there no doubt).  I've got a lot of thoughts about why anger is our friend.  Another day.

Related posts:

Thank Heaven for little Rachels

Soundtrack story:  Career, motherhood and 9/11

Second Thoughts on Psyche's 2nd Task

Why I Liked Wicked

A Song to dream by:  Beautiful Flower

Soundtrack story: Career, motherhood and 9/11

In his book This is Your Brain on Music, Daniel Levitin, a rocker-turned neuroscientist, explores the connection between music and our brain, providing some interesting insights on why we love the music we do.

In particular, Levitin helped me understand why Stevie Wonder, who made his way on to my soundtrack as a pre-teen, was still on my soundtrack during my 30s, the decade of launching a career and learning to mother.

He writes, "teenage years are emotionally charged years of self-discovery. Because of the emotional component of these years, our amygdala (the seat of emotion in our brain) and neurotransmitters (transmitters of information from the brain to other parts of the body) act in concert to 'tag' these musical memories as something important."

What kinds of music and which artists did you love as a teenager? Now in your 20s, 30's, 40s, 50's, or 60s, do you listen to similar music?

Isn't She Lovely -- Stevie Wonder composed 'Isn't She Lovely' when his daughter Aisha was born. I loved listening to this song as a teenager, cradling my newborns to it as an adult. It is a song that gave utterance for me -- and no doubt millions -- the importance of connectedness and caring.

Smooth -- Definitely the 'imagine and explore' song in the mix. Not surprisingly this yearning plays out for me via Latin music.

Fragile -- Having read Levitin's work, it's fascinating to me that the Police who were so popular during my relatively carefree college days, could capture the sadness, the grief at innocence lost on 9/11. Gratefully, I wasn't in my World Financial Center office to witness the horror firsthand, but I needed (as we all did) to eventually grieve. It was in a taxi, on my way into Manhattan, listening to Sting's Fragile, some weeks later, when I finally cried.

Diggin' your scene -- Smashmouth's ode to the fictional Sydney Bristow on Alias. As Psyche would have acknowledged, Sydney was about connecting and caring AND daring and dreaming. As a 30-something trying to marry these two, Sydney Bristow was my archetypal gal. Smashmouth says it all.

For those of you who want to explore musical intelligence (as defined by Howard Gardner), you will no doubt find Levitin's book interesting. Levitin also observes that if you want to be a great musician, or great at anything for that matter, practice -- not talent -- makes for virtuosos.

If you'd like to test Levitin's premise that we hardwire our musical preference as teenagers, check out www.pandora.com, a music genome project, which allows you to specify a song you like, and via the matching of that song's DNA to the DNA of other songs, make recommendations. For example, knowing of my fondness for Stevie Wonder, I wasn't surprised that I instantly liked the Brand New Heavies.

Related posts:
Tell your soundtrack story: Self-discovery and setting the musical dial
Seeing with new eyes
Soundtrack story: High school, cheerleading and finding true love
What I've learned by identifying my heros
Asking and answering the big questions

Tell your soundtrack story: College, culmination of childhood dreams

If you are here for the first time, you may want to skim through Tell your soundtrack story:  Part I before reading further.

Important music during my 20's seems to largely represent the culmination of childhood dreams, prior to pursuing different dreams.  I've tried to capture this experience in a children's book which Mallika Sundaramurthy has illustrated; I will share the book with you at a later date.

Clip 1:  I am playing Lizst's, Concert Etude in D-flat Major, "Un sospiro" as part of my senior piano recital (for my posterity -- entire program is below).  This recital was a significant milestone: it allowed me to be the hero of my story, rethink my competence, and tell an audio story for my posterity.  It was also a stepping stone, as I symbolically closed the chapter on a childhood dream, prior to starting my career chapter in New York.  I owe a debt to Dr. Paul Pollei for pushing me and preparing me to pull this off -- a huge debt.  A reminder of the importance of our mentoring others.

Clip 2:  I am playing the piano, but this time as part of Brigham Young University's big band Synthesis performing at the renowned Montreux Jazz Festival.  Even a short listen will reveal I don't have the same confidence playing jazz as I do classical.  But in some ways, I am even more proud of this recording because it signalled a departure from reading music to improvising, providing me with another opportunity to rethink my competence.

Two more lessons learned as it relates to 'dare to dream'.

Saying our dream out loud -- As a freshman classical piano student, when I heard Synthesis perform which included Sam Cardon and Kurt Bestor, I later made the pronoucement in front of a large group of women at my church (the Relief Society) that I was going to play in Synthesis.  Given my skills at the time, the pronouncement was pretty laughable.  What dream do you need to utter out loud?

Mentors were key to achieving this dream -- Without my piano teacher, Steve Erickson, who now plays with the U.S. Air Force, and the encouragement of Jeff Campbell, an amazing musican who now teaches at the Eastman School of Music, who was gracious enough to never remind me just what an amateur I was.

Clip 3:  Nancy Wilson with Cannonball Adderley performing The Old Country.  This was the kind of music I aspired to play, and still love to listen to.  You can buy here. And listen below.

Clip 4:  I've written extensively about my Wall Street story, but I haven't spoken much of my spiritual/personal life during that decade.  Eternal Day was set to music by D. Fletcher, performed by D. Fletcher on piano, Alison Eldredge on cello, and Ariel Bybee, vocals.  When you hear it, perhaps you'll understand how church every Sunday was always complete with D. Fletcher at the organ with nary a word spoken. . For more on spiritual journeys, you may want to read Neylan McBaine's article, Seeds of faith in city soil.

Do you have spiritual or secular stories that need to be told?  And better yet, stories that marry the two?

P.S. Thank you to Neal Robison for helping me with the clips. Check out the blog of his darling wife Macy.

Related posts:

Tell your soundtrack story:  Part II

Tell your soundtrack story:  Part III

Giant baby steps

Telling my Wall Street story

Boston Globe Op-Ed:  Romney, Mormons and Me

Boston Globe Op-Ed: Romney, Mormons and Me

I hesitated to publish my Boston Globe op-ed piece in 'dare to dream'. But isn't an essay about political and religious identity a chapter in the telling of our story?

Related posts:

Exploring possibilities and presidential politics

Why we are skeptical of Hillary Clinton

Why we tell our story

Making meaning in Malawi

Morning sickness metaphor

Tell your soundtrack story: High school, cheerleading and finding true love

In analyzing my teenage 'tell your story' soundtrack, I observed a thing or two about myself. Not so much the need for story edits, but definitely some insights, clues as to what I might want to think about as I write my story into the future.

But more on that later.

As you scan this iMix, you'll see that, as a teenager, daring to dream for me was largely about becoming a cheerleader and finding true love. Piano and grades had become inconsequential, and angst was now on the scene: so much of living gets compressed into those four years.

Which songs best tell the story of your teenage years? What do your song choices say about your emerging and shifting priorities as you moved out of childhood?

Nature Boy -- Nat King Cole's music bound me to my grandparents (first heard his music at my grandparents' home) and parents (my mom heard him live in San Francisco before he died), even as I began to individuate. I think this song put to music some of the sadness of those years -- thrilled to be growing up. And not.

Still the One -- In 8th grade, I went to see the Castillero Jr. High songgirls perform. After watching these pretty, and seemingly popular, girls perform to this song, I knew I wanted to be just like them.

Play That Funky Music -- At the first school dance I remember attending, the DJ played this song, and I reveled in the abandon. (I don't know about you, but I am intrigued by the fact that at every age there have been songs that remind me just how much I longed to imagine and explore.)

Always and Forever -- Being in love, and having my heart broken, for the first time. Ironic that I chose a tune which referred to 'always' and 'forever'.

Can't Hide Love -- Though the song makes me so, so happy today, as a 16 year-old, 'Can't Hide Love' always made me think of two boys (they don't know it of course) to whom I had given my heart.

Related posts:
Tell your soundtrack story: Part I
Tell your soundtrack story: Part II
What I've learned by identifying my heros
imagine and Explore
Getting gratitude

P.S. Because I need to figure out a technical thing or two, look for the the second half of my soundtrack story in January.

Tell your soundtrack story: Pre-teen, Stevie Wonder on the scene

Definitely, definitely consider creating a musical mix for your children, grandchildren.

As I pull together these songs, limiting myself to only five songs (constraints can be a good thing), I am not only sharing the highlights of my soundtrack story, I am finding that I'm re-writing certain portions -- edits can be a very good thing.

But more on that later.

Without further ado, here is Part II, memorable songs from my pre-teen years:

I Woke Up in Love This Morning -- My crush on David Cassidy was so HUGE. I still have a picture of myself standing by a poster of him in my bedroom. And, as I've shared previously, it was remarkable to me that Shirley Jones could be an ingenue AND a mother.

I am Woman -- We would listen to Helen Reddy on an 8-track player as my mom would taxi me to ice skating. I LOVED taking ice skating lessons; gliding over the ice I felt such my sense of self surge. In hindsight, I'm laughing that I liked this song so much; my desire to affirm 'us girls' seems to have started at the tender age of 10-11.

Come, Come Ye Saints -- Singing this hymn always moved me, an homage to both my spiritual heritage and family roots, especially of my pioneer ancestors that settled southern Arizona.

Don't you Worry 'Bout a Thing -- My lifetime love affair with all things Spanish/Latin America began at an early age, with my birth actually: my children even think that we are part Spanish. But not sure why I have such a love for the music of Stevie Wonder. Perhaps because his lyrics give utterance to my deepest feelings/longings in a way that few musicians can and do.

Ease on Down the Road -- Another happy, carefree song, that encourages me to imagine and explore, to face my fear.

Related posts:

Tell your Soundtrack Story: Part I
What I've Learned by identifying my heros
Finding our Reality in reality TV
Asking and answering the big questions
Rock climbing and rethinking our competence

Tell your soundtrack story: Of childhood and Christmas

Have you ever wondered:

What if my great grandmother had bequeathed to me an iPod (suspend your disbelief for a moment) with songs that had inspired her?

What if she had annotated her musical mix with a sentence or two saying why these songs had been meaningful to her?

In short, what if she had told her story with a soundtrack to her life?

On the odds that I will someday be a great grandmother, and because I do have an iPod, I hereby bequeath to my children Part I of my soundtrack story (thanks to iMix), the music which inspired me as a child, as well as my best-loved Christmas songs.

What songs were most meaningful to you as a child? Why?

Which Christmas songs do you cherish?

What if you were to create your own iMix and e-mail it to your children and grandchildren as a last minute Christmas gift?

Do-re-mi -- The Sound of Music, which I saw for the first time at San Jose's domed Century theaters next to the Winchester Mystery House, was the catalyst for my playing the piano. I still remember plunking out 'do -- a deer, a female deer' when I was three. Given that I have only two memories from when I was three, need I say more?

Melody -- I played this by Robert Schumann at my first piano recital, around the age of 7. I loved to play the piano; playing well nurtured my growing sense of self.

Six Grande Etudes after Paganinni -- My family listened to Andre Watts almost every Sunday; as an 8-9 year old, hearing Watts play (and also seeing him in concert) encouraged my dream of becoming a concert pianist.

Abide with Me, 'Tis Eventide -- As I sat in our chapel on Cherry Street late one Sunday afternoon, the singing of this hymn, stirred deep spiritual feelings within me. It is the first memory of this kind.

Everybody Wants To Be a Cat -- The Aristocats was so real to my 8 year-old self. This particular song was rowdy, and happy, and tapped into a creative impulse which manifested itself in my sister and I making up dances. Remember the kind: carefree, uninhibited dances that only young children are capable of doing.

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year -- Whenever I heard Andy Williams belting out this song, the Christmas season had officially begun.

Tchaikovsky's Nutcracker -- My mother took my sister and I to San Francisco every year to see the Nutcracker when I was growing up. Even today, I thrill at the music which accompanies the Christmas tree growing and growing and growing. It was pure magic!

Have yourself a Merry Little Christmas -- I could have chosen the entire Carpenters' Christmas Portrait, but this song best recalls the occasional longing I felt for home as a 21 year-old on a mission in Uruguay.

Vince Guaraldi's 'Oh Tannenbaum' -- If there is an album that most recalls our happy decade in Manhattan, it's this one. And because I still daydream about becoming Diana Krall's younger sister (musically speaking), 'Oh Tannenbaum' is one of my favorites.

I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day -- Definitely my favorite Christmas song. When I sing "God is not dead, nor doth he sleep", my heart swells with gratitude for the birth and life and death of Jesus Christ.

Related posts:

NY Times: This is your life (and how you tell it)
Your very own song?
It takes courage to tell our stories
Triangulating on our story
A quote to dream by: Robert Atkinson

Why we tell our story

Will you enjoy with me a poem by Carol Lynn Pearson?

Titled 'Journal', it beautifully captures one of the many reasons we tell our story.

Journal

Put the thought
In words
And the words in ink
In a page in a book
In a very private place
Like under a mattress.

A sacred process
Wonderful as alchemy
Is at work
Even in the dark
While you sleep
Making something better
Than history:

Understanding.

Related posts:

A poem to dream by: Carol Lynn Pearson
Fields of love
It takes courage to tell our stories
Mourning Virginia Tech
Storytellers wanted

Making meaning in Malawi

It is time to make space for another voice -- a lovely voice.

Belle Liang (who I met through my friend Jane -- go systergy!) is a professor at Boston College, and an expert on youth mentoring. In 2006, Belle's students launched an outreach website Generation Pulse, a place where high school and college-age students can come to discover their pulse, their who they are, by telling their stories.

Belle and her husband David, an adult internist and pediatric physician, have for several years been involved in relief work, work that has shaped her "faith, vision and sense of purpose". In the below essay poem, Belle tells of her encounter with two Malawian newborns, one who dies, one who lives.

May you be as moved as I was.

beauty and death

Our minds spin with the contrasting images of Malawi.
The dirt roads, goats and dogs wandering, huts with thatched roofs,
the faces, sweet faces, some laughing, and watching us
others crying, looking away, quietly dying.
Most of all, I remember the singing voices of youth praising God
just like angels from heaven.

Two babies are born, perfect and pure.
Disease attacks and now they are dying,
the first one in the arms of her grandmother
who has very recently buried her daughter.

As we witness this mystery of suffering
we try to revive her AIDs stricken body.
We watch her chest rise and fall so deliberately
gasping her last breaths, at four in the morning,
she dies.

We are sick with despair as she fades away in this dark hospital
and her grandmother is all alone and cannot cry.

God, why?

And just as hope is fading,
the other baby arrives gasping her last breaths
but she lives.

Not only lives, God has special plans for her
to bring a doctor thousands of miles
to save her.

Oh what mercy and grace
that one tiny life counts.

And so we have no answers
just a veiled sense
that despair and hope live side by side.

There is a link between death and beauty
for it is the splendor of living that so ignites our mind's eye
that makes us more conscious of death.

It is despair in this place,
that causes us to long for,
and rejoice at Hope's arrival.

Just beautiful.

Thank you Belle.

What part of your life have you yet to make meaning of? What story is waiting to be told? Through word, music, painting, drawing?

Belle's story seems to be a metaphor for moving to a both/and mindset? What are your thoughts?

About Belle Liang
Belle Liang, an education professor at Boston College and a national expert on youth mentoring, is the author of numerous papers and several new measures for the study of qualities underlying growth-fostering peer, community and mentor relationships. In an upcoming book, First Do No Harm: A Call for Ethical Guidelines in Youth Mentoring (Harvard University Press), she and her colleagues synthesize the research on youth mentoring in ways that are accessible to practitioners not in academia.

Liang and her students also recently launched an award-winning Web outreach project created for and by young people called GenerationPulse that has received hundreds of submissions in its first year.

dare to dreamgirl: Dana King

I almost missed this.

Dana King is my co-blogger at Know Your Neighbor; we talk (virtually) virtually every day. 

She'd been toying with the idea of blogging for months; Dana has something to say AND she wants to find her voice.

Having launched her blog in late August, Dana is now blogging several times a week, and I almost -- almost -- zoomed right past her accomplishment.

Until I remembered what I learned from rock climbing:  look both up, and down, forward -- and back.

Dana has many, many wonderful, grand plans, which makes looking back difficult to do. 

It's so easy to wonder - next, next -- what's next?

But, I need to, I want to, celebrate the launch of her blog, to celebrate the fact that this delightful, engaging, tremendously competent woman (just take a look at her Habitat for Humanity project) is both finding and sharing her voice.

Congratulations Dana -- like Jane , you are now an official, bona fide, dare to dreamgirl!

Will each of you, dear readers, go to Dana's blog and tell her Atta Girl?

Any of your recent accomplishments -- along the way, if you will - that we need to celebrate?

What about with our children -- are we giving them Atta Girls and Atta Boys -- for their accomplishments?

What about our spouses, friends?

What I learned about seeing from my glasses

I recently bought glasses.

Having never needed nor worn glasses, this was a big deal.

But my choice to get my eyes checked, and buy glasses on my birthday, left me wondering.

It's good to again read fine print, but of all the things that I could do on my birthday, why would my focus shift to eyeglasses?

Surely there was a bigger picture.

In buying glasses, was I acknowledging that even as my physical eyes deteriorate, I am seeing myself -- my who I am, my competence -- better than ever?

Further, are my glasses a tangible reminder of how important it is to me to mentor, to be a see-er of the magnificence in others, until they can see the magnificence in themselves?

And the answers to these rhetorical questions are --

Yes and yes.

I couldn't have given myself a better present.

What do you see more clearly today than you did last year, five years, ten years ago?

Who can you be a see-er for while she/he learns to see for themselves?

Finding our Reality in reality TV

Unlike American Idol and So You Think You Can Dance, America's Got Talent opens up auditions to a broad array of talent, from animal trainers to stilt walkers, and welcomes both solo acts and ensembles.

But here's what's interesting.

All four finalists are solo acts.

And...

All four are singers.

Yup.

Despite a wide variety of acts that the judges purposely placed in the top twenty -- the voting/dialing/push-buttoning audience has chosen a fairly homogeneous group of finalists -- four singing soloists.

While it is probably true that American Idol has influenced how we vote, there is something much larger at play with America's Got Talent, and all reality TV.

Each is a hero's journey. Each involves thousands hoping to be called to adventure. And as we watch, and participate by voting, we begin to feel that we are on the journey as well.

But we can't be on the journey, unless we can identify with the contestants, and so we find ourselves drawn to and voting for solo acts, rather than ensembles, to people who talk/sing/beat box to us, rather than those who don't. When the contestants speak to us, we can connect with them, and find our voice, even as they find theirs.

We've talked about this before, so now let's analyze the idea further.

Will you quickly listen to the YouTube clips of the four finalists for America's Got Talent?

Who do you identify with?

Terry Fator, Butterscotch, Cas Haley or Julienne Irwin?

Why?

I identify with Terry Fator.

And I'll tell you why, as soon as I ask you this question -- When I say that I identify with him, does that mean that I want to become a ventriloquist, that I want to see him perform live, or join his fan club?

Perhaps.

But because I want to be the hero of my story -- and for you to be the hero of yours -- rather than focusing on the who, I want to focus on the specifics of the why.

And, my gander of a guess is this.

Terry Fator is a man who's been perfecting his craft for decades, laboring in obscurity, wondering on many occasions if he shouldn't just pack up his puppets and go home.

I too sometimes feel that I work very, very hard at whatever I'm working on, and it isn't necessarily acknowledged or valued. And I too want to pack up my puppets, as it were, and go home.

But, Terry Fator didn't pack up and go home. And given how very capable and competent he is, how happy we are that he didn't.

Which is when I begin to wonder -- am I -- are you -- competent and capable too? Far more than we know?

And with that wondering comes a slice of hope.

Delicious and delightful hope.

Who do you admire at the moment? Why?

Psyche's 2nd Task: Obtain golden fleece

As Psyche continues her journey to really grow up (aka her hero's journey), her second task requires that she obtain golden fleece from aggressive, head-butting rams.

Her second task seems just as impossible as the first given the rams could easily trample her. However, the reeds in the field, as did the ants, come to her aid, advising her to wait until sundown. Once the rams disperse, she can safely pick strands of fleece off the brambles.

Psyche’s ability to acquire the golden fleece without being crushed is a metaphor for a every woman’s task of gaining power without losing her innate sense of connectedness and compassion.

Photo courtesy of Peter Crunkhurn

Many women are quite adept at informal power, hence the saying "behind every great man is a great woman."

But have we learned how to wield formal power? And if we haven't, why not?

Is it because we were taught that feminine girls don't play with power?

There were many times in high school and college when I was relieved to learn that my test scores were lower than my boy friends. I was truly afraid that if I 'claimed my power', boys wouldn't like me. So, I played dumb.

The stories our society lives by reinforce this notion. Meryl Streep's character in The Devil Wears Prada can butt heads with the best of the rams, as can Cruella de Vil. They're villainesses, you say? Precisely. You want to be a princess? Me too.

But I also want to grow up -- so where is the middle ground? It may be hard to find in film, literature, and even real life.

But to be the hero of our story, do it we must.

How do we wield power differently when we're the 'power behind the throne' versus 'the throne'?

For example, how do we wield power with children? Does this power corrupt us?

Can you think of a situation recently in which you didn't 'claim your power' (read: 'dare to achieve' in whatever form this may take) because you were afraid of what others would think of you?

What if you cloaked that claim with compassion, using it to be the see-er of others' strengths? Of their magnificence? To inspire them to their best selves?

Tie-dye, daughters and dreams

On the last day of Pompositticut Farm Day Camp, my daughter came home wearing a tie-dye t-shirt she'd made, eager to do more.

At the risk of my being a trifle embarrassed, I'd like to share with you what happened over the next five days.

Friday, July 6, pm
Miranda: Mom, let's buy a tie-dye kit.
Me: Ok, but not today, we'll buy the kit tomorrow.

Saturday, July 7, pm
Miranda: Mom, we have the kit, now let's do the tie-dye.
Me: But we don't have any t-shirts. It's 7pm; this'll have to wait until Monday.

Sunday, July 8, am
Miranda: Mom, can't we do something? Like mix the dye, and watch the how-to DVD?
Me: (Unenthusiastically) Yes, yes, you can mix the dye. Ok, I'll watch the DVD with you.
Miranda: Mom, isn't this fun watching the DVD (she's lounging in my lap)?
Me: Yes, it is fun (we contentedly smile at one another).

Monday, July 9, pm
Miranda: Mom, can we do the tie-dye now?
Me: Nope. We need to pre-wash the t-shirts. Tomorrow.

Tuesday, July 10, am
Miranda: Mom, the t-shirts are washed; can we do the tie-dye now?
Me: (Groggily, reluctantly) Ok.

Tuesday, July 10, am
Miranda: (Squeezing the dye onto the t-shirts) Mom, you're doing a good job of helping me.
Miranda: (While I'm driving her to camp) Isn't tie-dye fun? (Exuberantly) You can make anything with tie-dye!!

Comprehension. Understanding.

Had it been up to my daughter, she would have purchased the tie-dye kit, the t-shirts, AND done the tie-dye project on Friday evening.

In other words, she would have done her dream right then -- do and/or dye.

But she couldn't, because for 6 year-olds, parents are the gatekeepers of dreams.

To be fair, to ourselves, and, more importantly, to our own parents, none of us are trying to be mean, or even difficult, we're just trying to make it through our own lives.

But children don't, and developmentally, can't know that.

Rather than seeing their parents' reluctance as being about their parents, they interpret it to mean something about them -- they can't, shouldn't...

Replay this script thousands of times throughout their (our) childhood, and by the time we're adults, we've become genuine, certified, "nothing gets past our gate" gatekeepers.

We are so good, that getting past the gate of our doubting self, may indeed require a dare.

I'm going to dare.

Will you too?

The next time our kids want to do a project (child-speak: dream), and we just don't have it in us that day, can we say I'm exhausted tonight, but I really want you to do this, I like that you are thinking resourcefully, creatively, and cannot wait to see what you will do?

Instead of taking 4-5 days to get to their dream, how about 2-3 days? Remember -- baby steps.

Let's observe how we're interacting with the children in our lives. Are there any clues about what might be keeping us from our dreams?

And when we do learn from children (at their expense), why not tell the story of what they've taught us about how to dream? P.S. The above photograph is courtesy of Miranda and her two tye-dyed shirts, and my learning how to upload a photograph onto the blog.

A song to dream by: Beautiful Flower

When I first heard India.Arie's 'Beautiful Flower', I was moved, and couldn't help but think you might be too; songs give utterance to truths about ourselves that words alone cannot. Ms. Arie's song became even more meaningful when I learned that she'd written it for the students at Oprah Winfrey's Leadership Academy for Girls.

Take a moment to listen.

What truths do you hear?

Beautiful Flower lyrics

Making a place for your dream

You must have a room or a...place where...you can bring forth what you are...and what you may be. Joseph Campbell

Photo courtesy of Natasha Layne Brien

It's been nearly eight months since I started working with Clayton Christensen on his hedge fund, but not until today had I allowed myself to believe that it will really happen.

The feeling came on suddenly, surprisingly.

And it wasn't because we'd agreed upon my compensation (we already had), or because an institutional investor expressed interest (which they did).

Are you ready?

It was because we'd found office space.

And in so doing, the fund moved from something conceptual, even abstract, to something real because now we have a physical space, a little (very little) corner of the world whose sole purpose is to facilitate the launching of this fund -- and one of my dreams.

Which got me to thinking about the special places I went to as a young girl, whether to sew, to play the piano, to read, or to ice skate....as well as the places I go to (my home office!) to dream today.

And most especially I began to wonder...

Do you have a place where you can go to dream? To bring forth who you are -- and who you may become?

P.S. Thanks to Sarah Ban Breathnach's Simple Abundance for leading me to the Joseph Campbell quote several years ago.

Storytime by Ashley Goldberg

The ability to see our life as a comprehensible story is a key to our happiness. Robert Atkinson

It has been said by a number of psychologists who study recovery from trauma that mourning without empathy leads to madness, and that the person who suffers loss must be able to give testimony to someone as a way of working-through and learning from this loss.

We often think of loss of a marriage or a loved one, but there is also the loss of a friend, our spry young bodies, or lost opportunities that need to be acknowledged. We often don’t give voice to these losses because we think they aren’t big enough to mourn.

But they are.

As we give voice to these experiences, whether through words, scrapbooking, painting, song, or other expression, we will experience the catharsis that comes with giving testimony, and our experience gains power, and can influence people's lives, whether the women with whom we are daring to dream, or our daughters.

Thank you to Ashley Goldberg for sharing her artwork with us.

Her work had such meaning for me, I bought two of her prints: Storytime and another which I will share at a later date.

What story of yours is waiting to be told?

What medium will you use?

Site I Like: kirtsy (formerly known as sk*rt)

There's about to be a terrific new space for women's voices.

Yes, there are some fabulous women's blogs out there. In fact, more than half of the blogs featured by Typepad during the month of May were blog-hers.

However, when it comes to social media platforms (just think "virtual watercoolers"), for those of you that have visited digg, if you're anything like me, you not only didn't dig digg, you ditched it.

Take a look.

The categories (Technology, Science, World and Business, Sports, Entertainment, and Gaming) are just not my idea of fun watercooler talk, especially when it's 10pm and the kids have just gone to bed.

Now take a look at kirtsy's categories: Around the house: Fashion; Entertainment; Out and About; Mind, Body, Spirit; World Wise: Parenting; Food; Arts, Crafts, Design.

I don't typically like to kirtsy to the issues, but with this site I'll make an exception.

As the founders (all women -- even better from the standpoint of finding our voices) describe it, "sk*rt is the place to find and/or link to anything and everything on the Web that you'd like to share with other women."

That's my kind of watercooler talk!

Is it yours?

A poem to dream by: Carol Lynn Pearson

Power
by
Carol Lynn Pearson

When she learned that she
Didn't have to plug into
Someone or something
Like a toaster into a wall

When she learned that she
Was a windmill and had only
To raise her arms
To catch