I was really taken with that word, boundbreakers. I thought about Pura Belpré and others like her who are able to have such a deep impact on the lives of others. I thought about the boundaries she crossed in her gentle and powerful librarian way. Then I thought about who she would have to be to be a boundbreaker, and it occurred to me that in order to take great action, to have an impact like that on the world, to affect the beauty that is an increase in cultural compassion, a person would have to be pretty unbound internally (shocking, I know for the coach to go all internal here). For Pura Belpré to do what she did for the children of NYC, she needed to be fully herself. She needed to be unbound by judgments about the worth of her ideas. She needed to be detached from the possibility of ridicule and disdain. She needed to recognize, go through, and lay to rest (at least temporarily) the notion that she could not do what she thought needed to be done. This is the work a bound breaker does well before ANYONE has any clue they’re doing it. 
“We all need a lighthouse for our own
It gets so dark I can’t see which way I’m going
Oh lighthouse man I’m all at sea
Shine a little lighthouse light on me.”
What Are You Saying No To?
My daughter started gymnastics today. I sat in the observation area to ease her nervousness about being in a new place with new people. As I was sitting there, I thought about my upcoming obligations and commitments. I thought about a specific commitment that I’ve made that well, every time I think about it, I feel a little sick to my stomach, and not in a roller coaster, I’m so excited kind of way. This has been going on for the last several days.
I’ve not been ignoring that feeling, but instead of acting on it, I’ve been wondering why I feel so uncomfortable about having said yes to this particular (ongoing, fairly long-term) commitment. While I am pretty loaded up with things to take care of right now, I could not think of a specific logical reason why THIS particular YES was causing me so much discomfort. At any rate, I was mulling this a bit and then decided to set it aside and read while my daughter worked on the low bar.
As I’m reading this book on coaching for work situations (yes, this is what I do in the not very pleasant smelling gymnastics club), I get to a section on managing your workload. And this question hits me right between the eyes: “If you’re saying yes to this, what are you saying no to?” One interpretation of this question would be “If you’ll even do this awful thing, you must not say no to anything,” but this is not what the author, Michael Bungay Stanier, is getting at. In this case, the question is meant to reveal the full impact of your yes. If you say yes to this, what are you going to have to give up in order to fulfill the commitment that you’re making. How will you make space for that new commitment? Continue reading → What Are You Saying No To?
Get More Sleep
They sense the intrusion. In the summer, even with some planned activities and the occasional week at soccer camp, my kids have a lot of time to CHOOSE, to choose what they want to do, to choose how long they want to do it, and, until the end of the day, to choose when to stop. Their essential selves, the part that is most clearly them, that is the most clear expression of their unique wonderfulness, have 10 weeks to really get down. There are still obligations and chores, but they are sprinkled throughout the day rather than this giant chunk that the school day imposes. Don’t get me wrong; there are lots of things that go on during the school day that I think my kids would choose to do if given the choice, but they are clear on the fact that if they wish to do well in school, the activity in question is not a choice and as such, they are in some ways, leaving their essential selves behind. They are obeying their social selves every time they learn a new rule at school. They are obeying their social selves every time they sit still when they are feeling oh so itchy and restless. They are obeying their social selves when they refrain from getting water during math and when they wait until recess to run. And they resent it. 
I’m pretty sure I complained a few weeks ago when I had to take my kids shopping for school supplies. I imagine those of you who know me well would happily confirm that with enthusiasm. The lists of specific items kill me, but that’s a whole bugaboo that I don’t want to get into. The truth about school supplies is that I LOVE THEM. I love all of them. I love a freshly sharpened pencil. I love an empty composition book; a stack of lined paper is even better. A clean binder full of clean paper with a pen tucked in the pocket – bestill my low blood pressure driven but still definitely beating heart. Everything seems so fresh and new, so full of possibility, so ready for magical learning and change.
I’ve had a rough year in the garden. That’s not quite accurate. I’ve actually had a run of bad years in my garden. Tomato stealing squirrels, tomato plant chewing deer, and disease-ridden cucumbers have been the story for a while now. In response, I’ve done what I can.
I love you.
What feelings and thoughts would you have room for if you set aside all the judgments?
In last night’s dream, for the first time in my adult life, when faced with the threat of attack, I yelled at my attacker with a clear assertive “No!” And I didn’t stop there. I added a sentence or two clearly defining my space and the need for him to stay out of it. And then, in further unprecedented steps, as I moved away from the attacker, who was seemingly stunned by my verbal superpowers, I called out clearly and loudly for help. I had never even tried to call for help in the old version of this dream. 
The specifics of the conversation are not particularly important, but the thrust of it was that these folks were seriously tired. Like super duper getting in the way of other things tired. As we talked, it became clear to me that while being tired was a problem, the bigger problem was what being tired meant to them. They each interpreted their tiredness in different ways, but both saw the fatigue as being indicative of some combination of personal flaw and bad behavior. I share this example with you because it is the perfect example of the way that our thoughts can take a simple biological fact and hold us hostage.