dare to dream

Words to dream by: Anne Morrow Lindbergh

It was quite wrenching for me to cancel plans with a friend this past Friday evening, not only because I wanted to spend time with her, but because I struggle to say no.

But, the fact is, I needed to be by myself.

When I was constantly on the road, I got homesick, and was often physically exhausted, but alone time was plentiful what will all my hours spent in airports, planes, hotels.

Nowadays it isn't.

And so every once in awhile, I cancel plans at the last minute. Which isn't fun or fair to anyone. If only I would write "alone time" on the calendar, and hold that time sacrosanct.

I just don't how to do this yet without being clumsy, awkward.

But I intend to learn.

Source: Ashley Goldberg's Hiding Spot - Etsy Shop

Said Anne Morrow Lindbergh, If women were convinced that a day off or an hour of solitude was a reasonable ambition, they would find a way of attaining it. As it is, they feel so unjustified in their demand that they rarely make the attempt. One has only to look at those women who actually have the economic means or the time and energy for solitude yet do not use it, to realize that the problem is not solely economic. It is more a question of inner convictions than of outer pressures, though, of course, the outer pressure are there and make it more difficult...

How inexplicable it seems. Anything else will be accepted as a better excuse. If one sets aside time for a business appointment, a trip to the hairdresser, a social engagement, that time is accepted as inviolable. But if one says: I cannot come because that is my hour to be alone, one is considered rude...and has to apologize for it.

Lindbergh continues, and this is what I hope you will remember:

When one is alone...[is] among the most important times in one's life. Certain springs are tapped only when we are alone. The artist knows [she] must be alone to create; the writer, to work out [her] thoughts; the musician, to compose; the saint, to pray. [And] women need solitude to find again the true essence of themselves: that firm strand which will be the indispensable center of a whole web of human relationships.

Do you have some alone time scheduled today? This week? This month?

Will you use that time to dream? To discover your self?

Redefining ladies who lunch

Sharing food with another human being is an intimate act that should not be indulged in lightly. M. F. K. Fisher

Source: Un jolie table -- Catamini

Over the past several decades, the phrase ladies who lunch, popularized by composer Stephen Sondheim, has come to mean "women who have so very much, but do very little."

Thanks to the clever play-on-words of Ladies Who Launch, a community for helping women start their own businesses, and to my love of lunch-ing with friends, I've wondered if a redefinition isn't in order.

How about this?

Ladies who lunch, n. Women who do so very much, sometimes with very little, because they get together for lunch.

Rings true for me.

Almost without exception, the women with whom I dream then dare, are women with whom, I have shared a meal. Typically, lunch.

I don't know why this is, and for once I'm not going to analyze.

It's enough for me to know that where there's a table set for a meal with my friends, very often I find too a place setting for my soul.

When was the last time that you had lunch with a friend who helps you see your magnificence?

Will you schedule something for the month of July?

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.

Valuing what women do

It was several years ago, but it seems like yesterday.

About a month before Merrill Lynch management was to decide on bonuses, my boss reviewed my various performance metrics, including, among others: did my stock calls make money for our clients, were the clients happy with my service. When he got to the metric "# of phone calls and/or meetings with clients", a number which was 40% higher than the average, he said:

“That's great, but isn't the number of client contacts high because it's fun for you?" The implication being: "I don't know that I need to compensate you for your client interactions (even though it helped drive revenue for the firm) because you're a woman -- and women like to talk on the phone and socialize."

Source: JIFormales, Flickr

With nearly three years of hindsight, here's what I wish I would have said:

“John (that's not his real name), I do like what I do. Correction. I love what I do. I love servicing our clients, and in many instances, I am genuinely fond of them. Aren't you glad that what I "love to do" generates revenue for the firm? Now, let's talk about bonuses for this year..."

In fairness to "John", his attitude is widespread and pervasive. And not just among men.

Let me illustrate by asking you the following two questions:

When you stay at a hotel, how much on average do you tip the bellmen/valets?

How much, on average, do you tip housekeeping?

Said another way, do you pay a lot more to the people (usually men) carrying the luggage that you don't need carried, opening the door you don't need opened, and retrieving the car you could get yourself, than you do to the people (usually women) who clean your room, something that you very much want to be done, and don't want to do yourself?

Now for a "not walking the talk, mea culpa" story:

When I was in Mexico last month, after the bellman hoisted my suitcase (which I could have lifted myself) into the back of a cab, I apologized (apologized!) because I didn’t have any cash on hand for a tip. Just hours before, as a housekeeper put the finishing touches on my room, I thought “I don’t need to pay her; she likes doing what she’s doing."

She likes to make my bed, pick up my towels?

That's not what I said last summer when the person cleaning our family's cruise ship cabin was a man.

We tipped him well, very well.

Hmmm.

Here's my take:

Because nurturing and caring for others tends to be a strong suit for women (I would argue it's innate), when a women gives/helps/mentors, we easily slip into a mindset of "she's doing this because she likes to, and therefore doesn't need to be compensated".

What's sad is... when she (we) aren't compensated for our work, we wonder -- did I not do good work? I'll try and do better next time. Worse yet, do we think -- is what I'm doing not important? Does what I know how to do not matter to society? If it doesn't matter to society, should it matter to me?

And what's especially sad is that when we're in this dump of a place, even a double-dog dare may not be enough to get us to dream.

So, let's change. Not a chump change. Or a small change.

But a big change.

A big wad of cash change.

Some suggestions:

1) The next time one of us goes to a hotel, let's leave a tip for housekeeping. It will be hard. Let's do it anyway.

2) When one of our female friends (or not) offers to provide us with a service – like cutting our hair – and she wants to undercharge, or do it for free, let's tell her we are going to pay market because we value her skill, her work and her time. Note: If money is an issue in the short-term, what about a barter arrangement?

3) Finally, when a woman renders a service, before deciding whether to pay, or how much to pay, let's ask ourselves: If a man were to provide this service to me, would I expect to pay him? If so, how much would I pay?

I'm ready for a big wad of cash change -- how about you?

Connie Talbot: A Rachel reminder

I can't wait for you to hear 6 year-old Connie Talbot singing Somewhere Over the Rainbow.

Yes, you'll hear the lyrics the dreams that you 'dare to dream' really do come true, but more importantly, this darling little girl reminds us that we are Rachel.

For those of you not familiar with the biblical story of Rachel and Leah, Rachel is the younger and more beautiful sister who vies for and wins the heart of Jacob. However, because ancient custom required the elder sister marry first, Jacob pays the price of marrying Leah (who also loves Jacob) in order to marry Rachel.

While most young girls would align themselves with Rachel, believing their dreams will come true, most women have come to believe they are Leah, adopting an attitude of acquiescence, taking what is handed to us.

But here's the rub.

To achieve our dreams, Leah's got to leave the building so that Rachel can move in.

Who better to help us remember we are Rachel, both generous of spirit AND capable, than the young girls in our lives?

Walking through the unknown

It's now been about two years since I said "no" to Wall Street so I could say "yes" to a different dream.

While I have no regrets, there are moments, particularly over the last few months, when dreaming really is daring, even frightening, because I just don't know what the future will hold.

Which is why I found this photograph of a tunnel so compelling.

Deciding to walk into the unknown is unnerving to be sure, but it is also thrilling, while still being quite safe; adrenaline for the armchair dreamer, if you will. Before we walk into the unknown, we are still surrounded by the known, be it our identity, or simply our daily routine.

But once inside, we can be shrouded by second-guessing, self-doubt: "what was I thinking when I decided to do x, or y or z?" goes the refrain.

Then what?

Retreat? Advance?

Probably a bit of both.

Remember the day when a headhunter called me, and I took over twenty-four hours to say no, when I knew I would say no, just because it felt good to be wanted?

Then there will be days of derring-do, when we'll be willing to sell our home, if need be, to finance our dream, all the while trusting that we will again move into the known, knowing that it will be a better known...

Because we will be more of who we are.

Alfred Hitchcock once said, "The only way to get rid of my fears is to make films about them."

As you think about daring to dream, and moving into the unknown, or if you are already in the unknown, what fear do you have?

What would happen if you wrote about the fear? Or talked about it? Would the telling of your story help?

A philanthrophic hero's journey: Luanne Zurlo

Last night I attended a benefit for the World Education and Development Fund (Worldfund) in New York. It was an elegant affair, honoring Jeff Immelt, the CEO of GE, and Roger Agnelli, the CEO of CVRD. It was also a happy reunion, as I was able to visit with many of my former Wall Street colleagues.

The event, held at the Mandarin Oriental, was all the more impressive when I consider what Luanne Zurlo, the Executive Director and founder of WorldFund, has accomplished in less than five years.

You see, Luanne and I started on Wall Street at about the same time; she went on to become an Insitutional Investor-ranked analyst at Goldman, Sachs covering the telecommunications sector.

But, in 2001, our paths diverged.

During a business trip to Mexico City, as Luanne visited schools there, she became aware of the generally poor quality of education in Latin America. Because she knew what education had done for the quality of her life, notwithstanding her parents' sacrifices to make this education happen, she felt something needed to be done - but what?

Her definitive call to adventure coincided with 9/11, a time when so many of us reevaluated our priorities. And in mid-2002, she left Wall Street, determined to make a difference for education in Latin America.

In undertaking this hero's journey, Luanne left a comfortable and secure, albeit stressful, lifestyle, to do something she didn't know how to do -- the starting and running of a non-profit -- including the herculean task of raising, dare I say, pleading, for money.

In her quieter moments, she will tell you this has been tremendously difficult, from the personal sacrifice, especially financial, to the responsibility she feels for her employees, to the generally tough task of building something. But she will also tell you that she is neither desperate nor depressed, that "4 1/2 years, c. $5 million raised, and 30,000 children educated" later, she is content, fulfilled even.

Yes, last night was about raising money for WorldFund, but it was also a tribute to Luanne, and a visible, tangible reminder to each of us, of what can happen when we dare to dream.

NY Times: This Is Your Life (and How You Tell It)

"Seeing oneself as acting in a movie or a play is not merely fantasy or indulgence; it is fundamental to how people work out who it is they are, and may become", says Benedict Carey in the recent NY Times article This is your Life (and How You Tell It).

In support of his view, author Carey quotes Dr. Dan P. McAdams, a professor of Psychology at Northwestern, and author of the book, The Redemptive Self: Stories Americans Live By. Says McAdams: "[Our personal] narratives guide behavior in every moment, and frame not only how we see the past but how we see ourselves in the future."

What are the personal narratives that frame OUR pasts, and possibly predict our futures?

Said another way, what are the 1-2 stories that we most often tell about our lives? And how do the stories that we tell ourselves in isolation (by ourselves) differ from the stories that we tell our peers (family/friends) and our charges (children or mentees)?

For example, stories that I tell my charges tend to be well-crafted, and confident. Stories that I share with my peers are less polished recountings of personal experiences, happy and sad. Then there are the stories I tell myself: remember the Oprah Miraval contest...

So here's the question for you: are you happy with the stories that you tell yourself, your peers, your children?

If you were to craft a narrative, using the below quote as your theme, what story would you tell, whether written, painted, scrapbooked, danced, photographed or sung?

God calls you to the place where your deep gladness and the world's deep hunger meet. Frederick Buechner

P.S. The above painting is courtesy of the NY Times and artist Otto Steininger.

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?