My mind has been just whirling this week.  I know I’ve committed to a LOT of dance performances with Chinook Country Dancers for this ‘Ten Days of Stampede’ and that means a lot of early mornings and tons of exercise but I don’t think that’s it.  I can usually shut my mind off when I need to but this week none of my regular tricks are working.  I’ve been thinking about the young soccer players from Thailand, who were trapped in the cave with their coach.  I’ve been feeling helpless, like much of the rest of the world.  And, now that they have been rescued, I’ve been trying to figure out what made it possible for the rescuers to successfully pull off a task that seemed far beyond possible only a week ago.

To backtrack a bit, this team of players do not come from the wealthiest families.  These were boys, who loved to play soccer and who had a coach, who they also loved and who cared for them.  They had a soccer practice on June 23rd, after which they had a picnic.  Such a simple pleasure and no doubt a treat for them.  During the picnic, they decided to do some cave exploring.  It seems like such a teenage boy thing to do.  The complication occurred when the boys and the coach went into a cave and monsoon rains caused the water level in the cave to rise quickly, and dangerously high.  The boys and their coach managed to scramble to a high ledge, out of the water, but 4km inside the cave.  It was nine days before they were found, alive, another six days before the first four boys could be rescued and two more endless days before the final boys and the coach were safely removed from the cave.  At the time of writing of this blog, no one is considered ‘out of the woods’ yet, however they are receiving excellent care at Thai hospitals.

Besides the terror I felt for these boys and their families, I was mesmerized by the way experts on cave rescue (among other things) gathered together from around the world to solve this problem.  I was not on the ground there, nor do I personally know one single member of the rescue team, but from every report I have watched or read, these highly trained people put aside international differences and made the decision that the goal of successful rescue would be their only focus. 

There have to have been egos among this group.  There have to have been governments who would love for their country to receive credit for such a dramatic rescue.  There have to have been members of this group who could have refused to participate if things were not done ‘their way’.  And yet, somehow, this group united, and made the decision to not only attempt the near-impossible, but to work together, stay focused on the mission and put their training and experience into practice. 

It’s hard to imagine all the small decisions and structures that were needed to pull this off.  When I listened to the description of how the boys would be led from the cave, with one Navy Seal leading in front, tethered to one soccer player, and one taking up the rear, I felt the familiar sting of tears.  One of the news anchors describing this mentioned that with these supports in place all that each of the soccer players needed to do was to breathe. 

It struck me that if only each of us had this support in our lives, in our families, in our workplaces and in our countries, many of the problems we are trying to solve might dissolve.

Imagine what could we achieve if we had someone ahead of us saying, “I haven’t travelled your exact path before, but I have travelled a similar one and I have skills that will help you.  Follow me and I’ll show you what has worked for me.”  And if someone behind said, “Don’t worry, I’ve got your back”.  And if both of them said, “You can do it.  You can do this thing you have never even imagined doing before.  Just remember to breathe”.  And if your whole world cheered while you did the impossible.

This week in my little world two very small-in-comparison events occurred.  One has to do with my dancing.  We have performed at about fifteen or twenty different locations around the city.  Last Wednesday a small group of us performed on CTV on the morning show.  I was asked to be the spokesperson for this event.  I didn’t realize how nervous I was until we arrived at the television station.  Luckily, our instructor, Reba J, had sent me a video of a previous year’s performance so I could get a sense of what was expected (Reba J was the person leading me).  All of the other dancers stood with me as I did my little part, and they reminded me to breathe.  And after our performance, our little group cheered, not only for me, but for all of us and our successful execution of our dance. 

The second event involves my friend, Brenda.  Brenda set a goal for herself earlier this year.   She decided to train for and compete in a running race called The Sinister 7.  This is a seven-stage, 160km (100 mile) mountain race.  The terrain is rugged.  The cut-off time is 30 hours.  The competitors start in daylight but run through the dark of the night.  The information on the website for the competitors is not sugar-coated. “This race will punish those who are not prepared” and “The race’s name is inspired by the treacherous Seven Sisters Mountain that looms over much of the course” and “This race is incredibly difficult.  Be prepared for one of the toughest experiences of your life”.

Brenda had never attempted this before.  She did create a training plan and she stuck to it.  She did research the race.  She did tell people what she was doing and she called upon a few others who had done similar events to help her with support.  As she raced, her main support person, Carena, navigated her way ahead to meet her at the transition stations with supplies. (This was her ‘lead’).  And she had a whole army of people taking up the rear, cheering her on as she left each transition area: some in person, some on social media, some quietly in their own way.  And at just over 27 hours from her start, she not only finished, she RAN across the finish line.  And her whole world cheered.

This week it may be time for each of us to think about something we long to do but fear we may not be able to accomplish.  We have evidence to prove that with supports in place, with a lead, with a cheering section and with reminders to breathe, we may just be able to do far, far more than we ever dared possible.
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My inquiry for you this week is, ‘How can I make this possible?’

Elizabeth is a life and leadership coach in Calgary, AB.  She provides leadership coaching for individuals and groups and she creates and facilitates custom workshops for corporate, public and private groups.  Contact Elizabeth to help you or your organization to figure out how to make your dreams possible.
 
 
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It’s World Cup Soccer time and I, being a lover of this sport, have been trying to catch a few games on television.  This past week I had the chance to watch Japan face Belgium in an elimination game that would determine who would make it to the final eight.

In fairness, I really did not have a favourite going into this game, but I had seen Japan play a few days prior and I loved their style.  I also sort of felt like they were the David of the David and Goliath match I witnessed in this previous game; this was a game they needed to win to make it to the final 16.   I haven’t looked up the statistics on player height and weight but as a casual observer, it appeared they had been on the lesser side in terms of both height and weight in both games I saw.  So, on Monday, when the game began, I found my heart cheering for the Japanese team.

As the game progressed I cheered louder and louder, not only with my heart but with my voice.  I loved their footwork.  I loved the sheer joy they displayed on their faces when they unexpectedly scored the first, then the second goal.  Belgium, and I daresay, most likely much of the world was shocked at their early and strong lead.  I loved their support of each other.  But most of all, I loved that when an opposing player bumped into them, or stole the ball, or knocked them to the ground, unlike every other team I have seen, they did not launch into the theatrics of injury, hoping for a call against their opponents.  Instead, they got to their feet and continued.  No drama.  None.  It was actually unbelievable.

I was heartbroken by the end of this game.   Belgium had managed to tie the game in regulation time and in extra minutes, at about the 94th minute mark, Belgium scored to all but end the game.  The game continued for another minute but the dye had been cast.  Japan had lost and was out of the tournament.

While my heart broke for this wonderful Japanese team who was not favoured to win, I listened to the commentators review the game.  Meanwhile on the field, the Japanese players lined up in front of the fans and bowed to show their gratitude.

The next morning, our daughter-in-law, Cara was looking at her twitter feed and exclaimed, “Listen to this!  After Japan lost their game yesterday, they cleaned up their locker room, left it spotless, and left a note behind for the Russians, written in Russian, saying ‘Thank-You’ “.

My mouth may still be agape. 

Soccer players, or football players, as they are referred to in most countries, are some of the highest payed athletes in the world.  Some would argue they are over-payed.  These men, I presume, are not in the habit of doing their own laundry on most days, let alone cleaning up locker rooms after they have used them.  After all, there are people hired to do this job.  These players drive fancy cars, dine at expensive restaurants and are used to the celebrity status that being well-known sports figures offers them.

Just to be safe, I looked up the salaries of the players on the team from Japan.  I thought perhaps that these men did not get the big salaries of other famous teams and that maybe they were just grateful to be at the World Cup.  I was wrong.  A quick search of ‘The Google’ as we’ve become fond of saying in our house, told me that the salaries of these players range from 1.65 million Euros to 13 million Euros.  It would seem like they can afford to hire someone to do their laundry and clean up after them, just the same as all the other players.

And yet, the Japanese team chose to change the image of professional soccer players this week.  Despite the fact that the entire world saw them in the same league as the rest of the players, and I’m guessing the entire world expected them to behave exactly like other professional players, they chose to let their behaviour speak for itself. They chose to be different, and in this case more, than the world expected.

This has been a powerful lesson to me.

When I look back upon my life I recognize the many times I have chosen to be exactly what others expected of me.  Sometimes this has been good.  I have been expected to be hard working, honest, responsible, fair and on time.  I have chosen to comply with this.  However, at other times I have been expected to be less-adventurous than some, and I have complied.  I have been thought to be too old for certain things, and I have complied.  I have been thought to be too female for certain things, and I have complied.

As you travel through this week, notice where you are living a familiar, expected story.  Watch for ways you can make small changes in your behaviour to help others make huge shifts in how they view you.  Cleaning up a dressing room is a small thing.  This happens day upon day in the world of sports and mostly it goes unnoticed.  It is usually completed by a cleaning staff.  To have a National World Cup Team complete this task without any expectation helps us shift our view of these players from being aloof and high-brow to being thoughtful, humble human beings.

What I have taken from the example of these Japanese soccer players is that at any given moment, I can choose to change my story from an old one where I do exactly what others expect of me, to a new one; one that serves me better, and that better reflects my true self.

My inquiry for you this week is, ‘What new behaviour best reflects you?’
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Elizabeth is a life and leadership coach in Calgary, AB.  She provides leadership coaching for individuals and groups and she creates and facilitates custom workshops for corporate, public and private groups.  Contact Elizabeth to help you or your organization to figure out how to change your story to best reflect you.

Most often, after I finish writing a blog, I edit it, publish it, and then put it out of my mind.  It isn’t unusual for me to not really give it another thought unless someone mentions it to me, messages me or leaves a comment.

For the last two weeks, however, my most recent blogs, ‘Four Part Harmony’ and ‘On the Edge’ have continued to rattle around in my head.  From the sounds of it, they have also been paying rent in other peoples’ minds too.

The feedback I’ve received about these blogs have inspired me to do some extra thinking.  I recognize that I have more to say.  So, in a rare departure from my regular blog, this week I offer two addendums.

Addendum:  that which is added; an item of additional material, typically omissions, added at the end of a publication.

Addendum 1: Four Part Harmony

If you didn’t get a chance to read this one, you can do so here.  To quickly refresh, this blog featured Jim’s mom and her three sisters, Leila, Joyce and Joanie.  These sisters had been taught to sing in harmony by their mother, Jim’s grandmother, at a very young age.

When Jim’s mom was visiting us last week, she hadn’t yet had the chance to read this blog so I printed it off for her so she could read it from the comfort of the couch.  She really enjoyed it, thanked me, and said she wanted to take it with her when she went home so she could show her sisters.  Again, I thought this was lovely and then I put it out of my mind.

This week, the phone rang early one morning while I was out and Jim answered, delighted to hear the voice of his Aunt Joan (Joanie, the youngest of the singing sisters) on the other end of the line.  To give a sense of the rarity of this, we’ve been married thirty-eight years and I believe this is the second time Aunt Joan has called.

She wanted to talk about the blog.  When Jim’s mom returned home from her trip to see us, she took the printed blog to Joyce, who scanned it and sent it to Joan. I’m not sure how Leila’s copy was delivered but I do know she has seen it too.  It turns out this blog evoked a barrage of memories for Joanie, the youngest of the four sisters.  She was thinking about the days when her mother had taught her to sing.  She told Jim that when her mother would teach her a song she would take her aside and say, “Now Joanie, I am going to teach you a song.  What I am teaching you is your song.  This is the one you are going to sing with your sisters.  But when they start to sing, you’ll hear that they are singing different songs.  You are not to sing their song.  You need to sing this one; the one I am teaching you.  This song is special for you.”

Upon my arrival home, Jim recounted this part of the conversation to me.  I felt that old familiar sting of tears; the one I feel when something strikes just the perfect chord in my heart.  I knew that in the original blog I had written about the importance of each person knowing when to step up and take the lead and when to play a supportive role.  I also knew I had written that there were parallels for this in daily life and that I thought that Grandma Ryckman, their mom, had wisely gifted these girls with more than the ability to sing together; she had taught them how to take the lead in their lives and how to support each other.

However, Joanie’s memory of how she was taught by her mother made me realize that I had missed such a crucial part of the teaching.  These girls’ mother taught them to be uniquely themselves.  To know and to sing their own song.  To not get pulled into someone else’s melody.  To not be influenced by others to the point where their own voice was lost.  To recognize that they had a song to sing in this world that cannot be sung by anyone else.  To understand that only when we each sing our own song, and not try to be like others, that the most beautiful music is made.

I have been in the presence of these four sisters many times over the past forty years.  From my perspective, these girls have lived the wisdom of their mother.  They each know their song.  They sing it beautifully.  They do not try to sing each others song.  In doing so, they have become the best versions of themselves.  

What a gift for a mother to give her children; the gift of permission to become only yourself.  To not worry about trying to become more like someone else.  To understand that the best offering you can make to the world is to fully embrace your own song. 

Addendum 2: On the Edge 

When Jim’s mom arrived home, she read the blog, ‘On the Edge’.  Again, if you didn’t get the chance to read it you can do so here.  The short version is that it was about being brave enough to expand the comfortable edges of our life.  For me this is a continuous work in progress. 

She sent me an email last Sunday.  I’m printing it below in it’s entirety. 

Dear Elizabeth, thank you for this; I am so pleased to see a picture with Ben.  How lovely!  I also like your blog about the edges.  I think I am growing closer all the time to one edge of my life, so I am daring to take the chance to enjoy all the chances that life offers me.  I had the chance at your place to do several things I had never done before.  You and Jim and Kaitlyn offered that to me and so it was worth a little weariness to have dared it.  Thank you!  Love you!

I don’t think I need to add a word. 

My inquiry for you this week is, ‘Am I singing my song?'?’

Elizabeth is a life and leadership coach in Calgary, AB.  She provides leadership coaching for individuals and groups and she creates and facilitates custom workshops for corporate, public and private groups.  Contact Elizabeth to help you or your organization to figure out how to dare to sing your song.

I was making a batch of squares the other day.  The finishing touch was a generous sprinkling of walnuts and chocolate chips on the top.   As I was adding the last few Chipits I noticed that most of the nuts and chocolate had found their way to the centre of the square.  Realizing that since I could be the person receiving an edge piece I quickly assessed my options.  I could leave the squares how they were and hope for a centre piece; I could move the already sprinkled nuts and Chipits to have a more even distribution or; I could chop some more nuts and add more chocolate.  If you know me at all, you’ll see that this analysis didn’t take long.  I got busy chopping and adding.

As I am wont to do, while I was performing this quick fix, I thought about life.  It dawned on me that just as I had payed more attention to the centre of the squares, all but ignoring the edges, so most of us tend to do this same thing in our lives.  We place a lot of attention on the centre; on the big, familiar, comfortable things, and we overlook the amazing possibilities that lie right at the edges of our comfort zone.

I am a creature of habit.  I love the certainty of routine.  I love feeling in control.  I love having the chance to be prepared for things so that I’m not left scrambling and so I don’t feel foolish.  I feel like I know exactly where my edges are and I often avoid going too close to them.  In baking terms, I love the centre pieces.  I’ve been known to leave the edge pieces in the pan for days, and then when I’ve ignored them for so long they become stale, I feel ok about tossing them.

Being a mathematician, I thought it might be ‘fun’ to figure out just how much of the squares are official edges.  When I thought back to my squares and recognized that most of the topping was in the centre, I made the assumption that about one to one-and-one half inches of the edges of a nine-inch pan were scantly covered.  Doing a quick calculation, if it really was only an inch that wasn’t well-covered, it would mean that 21% of the pan of squares had not received my full attention.  Twenty-one percent of this pan would never reach its potential!  Using the more generous approximation of one and one-half inches, thirty-one percent of the pan would be less than ideal.   In terms of a batch of squares this really doesn’t make a big impact on life.  In life the stakes are much higher.

If I use only the smaller calculation, is it possible that I could be missing out on twenty-one percent of incredible possibilities in my life, simply because I’m choosing to not go too close to the edge?  The older I get, the more precious every year becomes and I can’t bear the thought of not wringing every single bite out of life.

One way for me to do this is to stand close to the edge and look outward instead of looking in.  By doing this, I’m able to see possibilities I couldn’t see before when I was only willing to look at what gave me comfort.  What I also notice standing at the edge, is that although it is unfamiliar territory, there are bits of it I recognize.  A few nuts and Chipits are already scattered there.  Stepping into this land is not completely uncharted land.  And man, I’d hate to let those lonely Chipits go to waste!
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If you read my blog a couple of weeks ago you’ll know that Jim’s mom was coming for a visit to meet her new great- grandson, Benjamin.  You’ll also know that she is 88 years old and that she does not travel as much as she once did.  She has had her share of health issues in the last few years. However, when I invited her to come, her response was instant and definite.  ‘Yes, I’d love to!’   This continued to be her response to everything we had planned when she was here.  Are you up for a brunch on Sunday? Yes!  Would you like to come and see our dance performance?  Yes!  Do you feel like going to build a birdhouse at Jim’s workshop?  Yes!  Would you like to go to Rhyme Time with Benjamin at the library? Yes!  How about a trip to High River for lunch?  Yes!

Great Grandma Kimberley’s edges have not yet been defined.  She continues to expand them, both with her capacity for open-minded thinking and with her capacity to believe she has enough experience to navigate unfamiliar edges.  She wants chocolate chips and nuts sprinkled right to the very edges of the pan!

These days I’m looking to expand my edges.  As I do so, I want to fill in the space between the old familiar ‘centre’ and the new ‘edge’ with rich, vibrant ideas, adventures and memories.  I want to say yes to a few things that scare me and say hello to a few new people who might just be friends-in-waiting.  I want to speak up when I recognize that there is a need for my voice.  I want to replace the question, ‘Can I do this?’ with the better question of ‘How can I make this happen?’ I want to make the edges of my life just as delicious as the centre has always been.

As you enter the months of summer, I encourage you to notice your edges and to start sprinkling some chocolate and nuts on them.  It makes them far less scary to walk toward.

My inquiry for you this week is, ‘Where is my new edge?’
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Elizabeth is a life and leadership coach in Calgary, AB.  She provides leadership coaching for individuals and groups and she creates and facilitates custom workshops for corporate, public and private groups.  Contact Elizabeth to help you or your organization to figure out how to manage the edges in your life.

Far too often lately I’ve been involved in conversations that included people musing that life can change on a dime.  Many times, this conversation follows another conversation detailing some sort of tragedy or shocking event.  Most often, those involved in these dialogues remind each other that we need to be living the life we want because we have plenty of evidence that it can change on a dime.

I certainly know this to be the case in my life.  There have been many, many times when the course of my life has taken a sharp turn.  These were not always turns I was ready for, nor were they welcome ones.  And yet, I had no choice.  I was forced accept what had happened and somehow figure out what to do with it.  Sometimes I was able to adapt quickly; other times the change came with much resistance and angst.  In the end of course, I had no choice.  A change had come into my life, altering it so that it would never be quite the same.

This was the case when Jim had his heart attack.  It was also the case several years back, when my father died on a fishing trip with my brothers, Jim and my brothers-in-law.  The shock of events such as these cause us to first want to stop the change.  We cannot imagine that it could possibly be true, and we cannot imagine how we will survive it, let alone accept it.  And yet, eventually, accept it we must.  In the end, there is no choice.

I was thinking about changes such as these this week. I guess that with Father’s Day approaching I'm take time to think of my own father and to be thankful for him.  I’d love to spend one more afternoon with him.  The good news is that it would just be a very normal afternoon.  We wouldn’t have anything to resolve, nor would we need to have a deep conversation of things unsaid.  My dad was the kind of person who left no room for doubt about his love.  He was not a man to offer words of love freely, but the heart he wore on his sleeve spoke volumes.  I’d love for him to meet his new great-grandson.

I’m thankful every Father’s Day for Jim too.  Our children have been blessed, as I was, to have a father who loves very deeply.  Unlike my Dad though, Jim not only wears his love on his sleeve, he also professes it often and sincerely.  Love is not unspoken with this man.

Sometimes when life changes on a dime, the change is a good one.  When Kaitlyn and Matt brought Benjamin into the world in January, their lives also changed on a dime.  Of course, they had been ‘preparing’ for nine months.  They had read (and read and read) book after book telling them what to expect.  But nothing could prepare them for the reality.  Just like millions before them, life changed on a dime.

This week, on Tuesday, Matt came home from work as usual and settled in for his Ben time.  On this sunny day, he took Benjamin out into the backyard.  Kaitlyn says that she looked out the kitchen window and rushed to get her phone as she caught sight of the deep ‘conversation’ Matt and Ben were engaged in.  When I saw the picture of the two of them sitting in their red chairs, my eyes just filled.  This Father’s Day will be Matt’s first.  Just as I was so lucky to have a Dad like my dad, and my children are so lucky to have Jim, and Matt was so lucky to have his Dad, Hughie, so is Benjamin such a lucky little boy to have Matt for his dad; a dad who makes time to spend with him, a dad who wants to listen to him, a dad who cares for him and loves him beyond what I’m sure he could have imagined.

I try to be thankful for all of the ‘dimes’ my life has turned on.  For every one that has brought me to my knees in sorrow, I have had in equal measure, ones that have brought me to my knees in gratitude.  This Father’s Day, I’ll be thankful for the ‘dime’ moments that brought little Benjamin and his dad, Matt into our lives.  It is not lost on me that not only can these ‘dime’ moments happen to us, but they can also be created by us.  We can choose to make changes ‘on a dime’.
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My inquiry for you this week is, ‘Where is the dime?’

Happy Father’s Day.

Elizabeth is a life and leadership coach in Calgary, AB.  She provides leadership coaching for individuals and groups and she creates and facilitates custom workshops for corporate, public and private groups.  Contact Elizabeth to help you or your organization to figure out how to manage the ‘dime’ moments in your life.

We’re looking forward to a visit from Jim’s mom next week.  She and I, during our twice-weekly, telephone conversations, have been planning the trip.  At nearly 89 she doesn’t fly as much as she used to so although we have plenty of ideas for things to do while she is here, including meeting her latest great-grandson, we want to make sure that there is some rest time incorporated in the agenda. 

While we were talking earlier this week she told me that on the weekend, she and her three sisters had gone to a furniture sale at Jim’s cousin Laurie’s home.  Laurie builds some furniture and reclaims other pieces and ‘the sisters’ (one of whom is Laurie’s mom) wanted to see what she had been doing.  Jim’s mom told me that she managed to buy a nice piece for her living room, and she also mentioned that before they left the sale, the sisters sang a song.

Now, to the regular person, this may not seem like a regular thing to do at all.  Who goes to a furniture sale and sings before leaving?!  In this family, the answer would be, ‘The Ryckman Sisters’.  They sing in each others homes, they sing at family gatherings, they sing in choirs, they sing at church and apparently they sing at furniture sales.

These sisters, Mary, Leila, Joyce and Joanie have been singing since they could talk.  Their mother gathered them around the piano and taught them to sing harmony together.  Singing together is as natural to them as breathing.  I think they were all taught to play piano too, but whenever I have heard them sing, it is always Joyce, a gifted musician, who tickles the ivories. 

As I pictured these wonderful, loving sisters singing together before leaving the sale (and likely after a few choice words about what song to sing!), I was thinking about the way harmonizing has served them so well in their lives outside of the music world.

When these girls were taught to sing, they were also, no doubt, introduced to the intricacies of this art form.  I have no idea how their mother, Jim’s grandmother, taught them.  I have no idea who gave her the skills she would pass on, although I suspect her involvement with the Lutheran church may have played a part in it.  And yet, somehow, she taught them not only how to sing beautifully together, in perfect harmony, but also how to live as sisters in a similar way.

When singing in harmony, it is impossible for everyone to have the lead at once.  One singer at a time has the lead and sings the melody, and the others each have a different, unique role.  Sometimes a second (and third) singer will support the melody in a pitch slightly above or below.  I have noticed, over the near 40 years of my being part of this family, that these sisters have learned how to let each other take the lead.  And when one of them takes the lead, in singing as in life, the others quickly get themselves into formation to provide support and to allow the lead to shine.

When Jim’s mom was having trouble with her back for instance, I called her daily.  I knew that Aunt Joyce (sister number three) was coming over each evening to give a back rub.  Aunt Leila (number 2) would stop in during the day, sometimes with supper in hand.  And Aunt Joanie (number 4), who lives furthest away, gave the bulk of her support by phone.  I’m guessing that when they heard about the furniture sale at Laurie’s, they instinctively knew this was a place they could not only have fun, support Laurie and buy some new items but it was also a place where they could support Aunt Leila.

What is important to recognize in this relationship of sisters is that the dynamic shifts depending on who is in the lead role.  These girls are absolutely practiced and on-point with knowing not only when to step in to give support, but also when to accept the support.  What I find unique about them is they manage to demonstrate love in equal measure whether they are being supported, or whether they are the support.

This is the secret to harmony.  The lead is not always the lead.  Each member needs to know how to sing in support, how to give back up with the melody in a different pitch and how to modulate their voice appropriately.  BUT, when it is time to take the lead, they have been taught to step right into it and to occupy that space as if they had waited their life for the chance.

We can learn a lot from this.  It is not only in their beautiful blending of song that they each play an important part; in their daily lives they too ‘sing’ in harmony.  Each of them has played many starring roles in life and the other three quickly line up to play support.  When Grandma Ryckman gathered those little girls around the piano and taught them how to sing in harmony, I wonder if she realized the incredible gift of life lessons she was giving them.  I’ve been blessed to be able to bear witness to her gift, both in song and in life.

Next week when Jim’s mom arrives we will gather four generations together.  Jim’s mom, Jim, our daughter Kaitlyn and her son, Benjamin; mother, son, mother, son.  These four will also have a special sort of harmony, each bringing a unique view of their stage of life.  For me, I’m afraid my terrible affliction of leaky eyes may overcome me, as I bear witness to this new four-part harmony. 

As you enter this week, notice where you are in harmony.  Where are you asked to take the lead, and where would you be better served offering support.

My inquiry for you this week is, ‘Lead or support? How am I adding to the harmony?’
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Elizabeth is a life and leadership coach in Calgary, AB.  She provides leadership coaching for individuals and groups and she creates and facilitates custom workshops for corporate, public and private groups.  Contact Elizabeth to help you or your organization to figure out how to bring harmony to your life and work.  

This week in yoga class, Mona had us doing ‘Chair Yoga’.  Provided with a simple banquet style chair, we arranged it with the front legs placed on our yoga mat for stability.  Many of the poses are the same as ones we do in regular classes, but Mona makes some modifications as she incorporates the chair into our workout.

Although I usually love the balance poses, the one phrase I dread hearing Mona say is, ‘We’re going to do Dancer’s Pose’.  In Dancer’s pose, we stand on one leg and grab the ankle of the opposite leg with the same-side hand.  The other hand – the one on the side with the leg we are standing on – goes above our head, first finger and thumb creating a circle.  Once we find our balance and find a fixed point in the room to focus on, we are instructed to lift our ankle, and thus our thigh, while tipping forward from the hips, hand still above our head, until we create a T-shape.  The theory is that our leg is the stem of the T and our body is lying perfectly horizontal to form the top of the T.

Let’s just say that while I can describe this accurately, my execution hasn’t garnished me any offers to pose for ‘OmYoga’.
Here is what I found interesting with chair yoga and my dreaded Dancer’s pose.  During chair yoga, we do the exact same pose except that we start by facing the back of the chair.  We are welcome to hold onto, or to touch the top of the back of the chair at any time.

When I have done this pose without the safety of the chair, I can assure you that the stem of my T has a slight bend and the top of my T resembles a sloped roof. I have no idea if my thigh even comes high enough to be close to horizontal.  We are encouraged to reach forward but I’m so concerned that I’ll fall right on my nose that my reach is limited to say the least.

With the chair beneath me, however, I am able to get much closer to the proper execution of the move.  OmYoga has still not called me but I bravely lift my thigh high, I courageously lean forward and I envision my extended arm stretched gracefully forward, parallel to the floor.  I never touch the chair, nor do I feel a sense of needing to.

While I’m pretty sure I may be being too generous with my image of my Dancer’s pose in Chair Yoga, the reality is when I know I have the security of the support of the chair to provide balance if needed, I feel brave enough to really embrace the pose.  Just knowing the chair is there gives me the confidence to stand straighter, to bend more deeply and to reach farther.

Once again, as it is in yoga, so too is it in life.

Supportive people abound in my life.  Their existence allows me to practice bravery, knowing that if I need to reach out to find my balance, these people will gently support me until I am confident enough to support myself.

Supports in my life appear in many different forms.  My family: Jim, our children and their spouses, often show support not only with their words but also with their presence.  We’ve had a long-standing tradition that when any of us is participating in an event, such as a race or performance, the rest of us try our best to be there. 

Last weekend, Greg was competing in his first Ultramarathon in Ancaster, ON.  When I first heard about it about five months ago, I commented to Jim that I’d love to be there.  And so, it came to be that last Saturday we stood at the start/finish of the race and cheered as the racers completed their loops of 10km, 20km and 20km consecutively, in and out of the valley, over roots and along goat paths. 

I did not do one single thing to help Greg physically prepare for his race.  But I like to imagine that by checking out his long training runs on Strava and talking with him about them, getting up early with him on race morning, cheering as he ran past us, and heading down the trail about a kilometre before the ending to encourage him at the final hill, all provided him with support.  We played the part of his chair.  He did not need to reach out to us to regain balance in this race, but he knew we were there, solidly waiting, just in case.

I often go about my life knowing I have chair-like support from people who do not even realize they provide it.  My friend Betty provides chair-like support for me.  I know, without a shadow of a doubt that if I needed to rebalance myself, she would avail herself to be my support.  So too would my brothers and sisters, as would my friends.  Even if these people have no idea what I may be up to on a day to day basis, I know that if I need them, they are there.

When I reflect on my life I can recognize that there have been many times when I have consciously supported others.  I’ve also provided support without realizing it.  Many former students have mentioned how much my support meant and I could never think of exactly what it was I had done.  But clearly my presence helped them feel more balanced.   

I must admit however, that I have missed many opportunities to be ‘the chair’ for others when I could have.  Sometimes I could have offered such a simple thing as a word of encouragement, but I was too shy to speak up.  Sometimes I wasn’t sure if my words would be welcome.  Sometimes I assumed they had all the confidence in the world and did not need my help.  Many times, in races I would notice a runner struggling near the end; sometimes I would call out for them to ‘Come on, finish it with me’.  Other times I ran past.  I wish I had not.

Everyone needs chairs in their lives; supports that allow them to believe in themselves and to get closer to their goals and dreams.  As this week unfolds, notice ways that others hold this role for you and notice ways that you can hold it for them. 

My inquiry for you this week is, ‘Where is the chair?’
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Elizabeth is a life and leadership coach in Calgary, AB.  She provides leadership coaching for individuals and groups and she creates and facilitates custom workshops for corporate, public and private groups.  Contact Elizabeth to help you or your organization to figure out how to offer your support to others and to use the support of others to reach your fullest potential.
 

One of my favourite sounds this time of year is hearing the birdsong in the morning.  It’s the time when our little feathered friends wake up and begin to call.  I’m not a scientist, and I’m sure that any good biologist could give me the real reason for the calls, but in my mind, they are simply inviting me to join in the beauty of the day.

As I was listening to the birds the other morning, I thought about the idea of callings in our own lives.  I had a misconception of what a calling was for a long time.  I had read and been told that we should find work to do that is our passion, find what we are called to do, and if we do it, we will never work a day in our lives.  My understanding was that anything short of this would be wasting our time on earth.  I often noticed that many people, perhaps most people, do not have the luxury of doing this. My dad worked in a factory.  I don’t believe this was his passion or his calling.  I do believe it provided him with a way of providing for us.  I think that his truth was the same as many people’s truth. 

So, what then is a calling?  What calls to us and how can we incorporate that into our life?

One thing I now know about callings, after completing the Playing Big course with Tara Mohr, is that we do not have only one or two callings in our lives.  When I used to think about callings, I believed that I likely had only one calling, and I’d better get it right because it would inform my life’s work.  What pressure!  I now realize that we have many, many callings throughout our lives.  Some will be big and will stretch over years; some will be very small and will take up less than a day.  A better question to ask ourselves than ‘What is my calling?’ is ‘What am I being called to right now?’

As I think about people in my life, some of their callings are visible.  Jim, despite his career of being a school principal, and now a financial ‘guy’, is always called to nature; specifically, to animals in nature.  He brings this calling to life in so much of the work he does.  When he was in education, some of his very favourite moments were taking the students on mountain hikes and camping and introducing them to wildlife and the wonders thereof.  These days, when he isn’t at his desk crunching numbers, he sits on the Board of Directors at the Leighton Art Centre; why wasn’t I surprised when he told me he had volunteered to run workshops called, ‘Tracks in the Snow’ and ‘Birdwatching’?  This is one of his callings.  It gives him joy.  It gives him peace.

Contrary to my earlier belief, callings are not things that need to be our career.  We do not need to make money from them.  They do not need to take up the bulk of our time.  They simply ask us to make space for them in our lives.  Often, the reward from the calling is doing the thing itself.  Even a few hours each month spent on a calling creates vast benefits.
Sometimes when people experience a calling, they feel fear.  They might be called to do something that will shake up how the world thinks.  I’m guessing that the women who stood up for equal rights and more recently for the MeToo movement, felt not only called to speak out, but also felt fear.  They may also have felt like they needed to be part of it but they were not qualified.  They may have felt like they did not have all the required tools.  If only they knew that, according to Tara Mohr, these feelings can be signs of true callings.

I have been lucky in my life.  I do believe that my teaching was a calling. I was called to it at a young age and I am still called to teach.  To clarify, although I was hired to teach math, and although I love math, this was not the calling.  The calling was to provide a place where students could learn about themselves, to feel safe and welcome and be encouraged to grow into their best selves.  I wanted to hold up a mirror so they could see themselves in the capable way I saw them, and that by doing this they could bring their own gifts to the world.  This is my teaching calling.  I am at peace when I teach.  I feel energized, I feel like I am contributing and I feel ‘right’.  This would be one of those rare callings that does provide an income and that does span over a long time but not all callings are like this.

Lately, I am noticing other callings.  I am called to dance.  I will never make a cent at this.  And yet, no money could replace the feelings of peace and joy it brings to me.  I am called to be present for the classes and to bring my best when I am performing.  It may make no sense to others; that is the beauty of callings; only the person being called can really understand the pull.

My sister Mary is called to Storytelling.  There are stories that she feels compelled to tell; this is a force larger than her.  Sometimes she feels resistance, as if she should run in the other direction and yet there is also the feeling that this is her work to do.  Jim’s mom is still called, at almost 89 years old, to bring comfort and peace to those facing illness or death.  She is also called to sing.  And last week she called me to say, ‘I danced!  I danced!’  I’m pretty sure this is a calling.

This week our little Benjamin, now four months old, was wearing a wonderful t-shirt that said, Hug Life.  When we follow a calling, this is the feeling we experience.  The feeling of hugging life.  The feeling of rightness, of meaning, of rarity and of wonderful energy and joy.

My inquiry for you this week is, ‘How are you called to Hug Life?’
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Elizabeth is a life and leadership coach in Calgary, AB.  She provides leadership coaching for individuals and groups and she creates and facilitates custom workshops for corporate, public and private groups.  Contact Elizabeth to help you or your organization to figure out how to bring your callings into your life and work.  

With the unseasonably warm weather we’ve enjoyed in the past week, I’ve found myself pulled outside.  I’ve been on my bike, on the running paths, out for walks and even just out on the deck.  It isn’t that I had forgotten how much I love the outdoors, it is just that it had slipped my mind how much I really do love being outside.  I even enjoy going to appointments and meetings more.  There is something about the few minutes spent between car and building that feels so life-giving.

In my world, the winter months are often spent on inside projects.  I spend a lot of time at my computer, inside conference rooms facilitating workshops and meetings, in my home doing projects and little tasks and indoors meeting with clients.  I do my workout indoors, do yoga indoors and dance indoors.  I have seemingly endless jobs I can tackle during the inside winter months.  When spring arrives, I try to make as many opportunities as possible to get outside and do the outside jobs. 

I was thinking that this too applies to the coaching tools I’ve been sharing.  Over the past few months, in this blog,  you’ve been reading and learning about the Inner Critic.  You’ve learned ways to recognize her (him) and ways to deal with her so that you can achieve new goals.  You’ve learned about the stories you tell yourself that may no longer be serving you well.  You’ve learned how to replace these with new stories that will suit you better.  You’ve learned about accessing your Inner Mentor or Sage to find out what gems she has to help you make decisions.  All of these, I’ve realized, have been inside jobs.  These all involved having you think about things in a new way in order to make change in your life or at least in your state of being.

The weather has changed.  The tulips are up.  The trees have blossomed.  It’s time for us to do some outside jobs.

Last night I wore a new top to dance class.  To clarify, I bought this top last August.  It was a ‘new arrival for Fall’.  I loved it and thought it looked so modern.  Apparently, it looked so modern that every time I thought of wearing it, I second guessed myself and hung it back up.  You can imagine that my Inner Critic was delighted in herself for keeping me ‘safe’.  Well, last night, I guess spring fever must have got the best of me because before I could change my mind I put on the top, jumped in the car, turned up the radio and headed for dance class.  I’m not sure when I’ve ever had more compliments on something I’ve worn!  Good grief, what was I waiting for?  With all the time spent on working on the inside of me, I’d forgotten how good it feels to put a little effort into the outside.  (And just to clarify, I did wonder, “Oh dear, what must I usually look like?!”)

Besides our physical looks, there are plenty of ways we can do some outside jobs this season.  When was the last time you set the intention of looking outside yourself and making conversation with a stranger?  It could be as simple as striking up a short dialogue with a salesperson or someone in a group or class you attend.  It could be saying hello to everyone you pass on your evening walk.  Speaking of evening walks, perhaps your outside job might be as simple as finding ten minutes each day to get outside.

Maybe your outside job needs to be bigger.  Maybe you’ve been living inside a box that is too small for you.  If you can’t force yourself to step right out of your box, perhaps opening up a window so that you can at least see what you might have available could be a great first step. 

Getting outside your comfort zone can be very intimidating; NOT EVER getting outside your comfort zone is heartbreaking.  Think of how much more interesting it is to talk to someone who has the excitement in their voice of trying something new.  New does not have to mean unsafe, or huge or irresponsible.  New can mean a new restaurant (with an outside patio😊), or it can mean heading out to a movie instead of watching television.  Or going to a live game or concert or play. Or it can mean finding an organization that could use a new volunteer.  Or reaching out to a friend you have neglected for a while. 

Jim has been working on outside jobs lately too.  He and his friend Daryl took on the new project this spring of designing and building bird, bat and bee houses for a local golf course.  On Friday, he headed out to record how many bird houses have been inhabited and how many babies have been born.  What a perfect way to get outside; outside of his office, outside of his current circle of contacts, outside of his usual thoughts, outside of his regular activities.  I could almost feel the thrill in his heart when he sent me the picture of the tiny bird he replaced in her home. 

I challenge you this week to do some outside jobs; look outside of yourself, polish up your appearance, say hi to a stranger or try something new.  Go wild.  Shake it up.  It’s spring.  In a blink, we’ll be back to our computers and meetings last years clothes and snow shovelling.

My inquiry for you this week is, ‘How can I bring this ‘outside’?
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Elizabeth is a life and leadership coach in Calgary, AB.  She provides leadership coaching for individuals and groups and she creates and facilitates custom workshops for corporate, public and private groups.  Contact Elizabeth to help you or your organization to figure out how to bring your dreams or your work ‘outside’.  

I have a large exam coming up on Monday.  It’s been quite a while since I’ve been the student in this situation.  For many years I was the teacher and as such my thoughts around exams focused on whether I had taught the material well enough, whether the students were ready, whether I had created a fair exam and whether the exam would really tell me what the students knew.  I also believed I gave fair warning and good review and generally set the students up for success.

Isn’t it funny how a different perspective can change everything?   Our course instructor, Tara Mohr, has no doubt given our upcoming exam plenty of thought.  I have no doubt that she feels we are ready and that she has created a fair and valuable testing tool.  I even notice she is framing this as ‘a wonderful opportunity to showcase all we have learned’.  Hard though it might be to believe, I really do trust that this is the intent with which she is approaching this exam.

And yet….

I am still feeling a bit apprehensive.  This is all despite the fact that I’ve maintained a regular study schedule, believe I’ve got a good grasp of the material, have been an attentive student, have completed all assignments and even practiced the skills we were taught. 

Going through this process has given me reason to look back and recognize that when I was teaching, just because I believed the students were ready and well prepared, does not mean this is the way they may have seen things.  It’s a great reminder about other things in our lives where our plan does not match up with the result.  I recalled reading about this in Marita Fridjhon’s book, Creating Intelligent Teams.

Whenever we do something we do it with a certain intention.   We have a purpose or a plan.  This is a good thing.  It means we are being conscious about what we choose to do.  Even when we don’t think we have purposely set an intention, we really have done so.  Even when we say, ‘Oh, I’m not going to plan, I’m just going to wait to see what happens and go from there’, this too, is an intention.  Problems rarely arise from setting intentions.   How then is it possible that a teacher can have a certain intention and the student can experience something else completely?  For that matter how is it possible for us to set any intention, only to discover later that others misread us completely.

In cases like these, the challenges occur not necessarily because there is anything wrong with the intention itself, but rather because our behaviour does not match our intention.  When this happens the outcome or impact is rarely what we hoped for.

When we set an intention, in our own minds we can visualize what we want to happen.  We can strategize and plan and dream and prepare to manifest our idea.  However, often we forget that we have very familiar patterns of behaviour that we use and that people are used to.  If we do not align our behaviour with our intention, it is often easy for others to mistake our intention for something else.

For example, with Mother’s Day approaching, a child may want to let his mom know he really appreciates her and wants to demonstrate this by creating a special gift.  His intention is fantastic.  It may even be very well thought through.  Let’s imagine that this same child, in the creation of the gift, creates a large mess (this is the behaviour that is visible to the mother).  The mother, having absolutely NO IDEA what the intention was, only sees the behaviour (the mess) and she responds accordingly.  This response is the impact created by the intention and behaviour.  Needless to say, the result is not what the child envisioned when they began.

As a student teacher, when I was first learning to teach, a principal in the school where I had been assigned, had come to observe my well-planned lesson.  I loved my students and was excited to have the principal observe me.  At the end of the lesson, which had gone very well in my mind, he gave me a lot of praise about my content, delivery, classroom management and knowledge of the subject matter.  He then asked if I had enjoyed the class.  ‘Oh, yes!’ was my enthusiastic response.  His response stunned me and yet it provided me with invaluable advice.  He replied, ‘You need to let your face show that’. 

The secret to avoiding this disconnect is for us to try to match, with as much accuracy as possible, our intention with our behaviour.  This gives us the best chance to have our desired impact.  We need to remember that others cannot possibly see into our minds and know our intention.  The only tool they have to rely on is that of observing our behaviour.  The extra challenge for us is that our behaviour patterns may be so automatic that we no longer recognize them as problematic.

In short, we can see our own intention but not our behaviour or our impact.  Others can’t see our intention but can clearly see our behaviour and feel the impact.

In terms of my upcoming exam, I do know the intention of our course instructor.  She has explained it verbally to us and she has given it to us in writing.  Not only that, she invited one of her co-facilitators to also give her perspective on it, which aligned perfectly with what had been previously shared with us.   Perhaps most importantly, both of these women have demonstrated nothing but complete integrity in every dealing I have had with them.  There is nothing to make me think that this exam will be anything other than what they have offered – a wonderful opportunity to demonstrate my knowledge.

In terms of Mother’s Day, some of the little ones creating the ‘surprises’ won’t be very good at communicating their intentions.  As recipients, perhaps we might choose this weekend to be one where we don’t judge the behaviour before we investigate the intention!

Happy Mother’s Day!  I offer this with the best intentions!
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Elizabeth is a life and leadership coach in Calgary, AB.  She provides leadership coaching for individuals and groups and she creates and facilitates custom workshops for corporate, public and private groups.  Contact Elizabeth to help you or your organization create alignment with your intention, your behaviour and the impact you have.