I’ve attended two Celebrations of Life in the past two months.   Two women.  Two former neighbours.  Two mothers of students I taught.  Two mothers of children who came to my children’s birthday parties.  Two mothers of children I coached.  Two women I regularly stopped to talk when I was out on a run and one of them rode past on her horse, the other walking briskly up ‘Brown’s Hill’.

It’s been a heartbreaking time really.

At each Celebration of Life, literally hundreds and hundreds of people showed up, as I did.  It sounds trivial to say, but it was comforting, even nice, to be among so many kind, familiar faces, some from the community, some from our past connective activities, some strangers to me but not to the families, all of us showing up to show our support.

As I’ve pondered these women’s lives and the fragile nature of each of our lives, I’ve given some thought to the idea of showing up.

Showing up for a Celebration of Life seems like the obvious and kind thing to do.  I am lucky to be part of a community where we do this.  We all do this.  We show up to support the family in their grief.  We show up to remind ourselves that we are part of a larger community and as such we have a part to play in bearing witness to the stages of each others lives.  We also show up because it feels right to be there.

It is sitting deeply with me this week, that if we are willing to do the kind and obvious thing of showing up in death, are we equally willing to do the kind and obvious thing of showing up for each other in life?

And by showing up, I don’t just mean showing up.  I mean showing up.

Last weekend, our daughter, Kaitlyn was preparing to return to teaching after her year-long maternity leave.  She decided to head into her school on Saturday to make sure she was prepared for her first week back.  She had figured out her lessons in the weeks ahead and she planned to spend the day organizing her classroom and getting materials prepared for the students.

When Kaitlyn arrived at school, she could see she had underestimated the task.  The work she would usually do over a week in the summer to prepare was too big for one day, and as every parent returning to work can imagine, she was overwhelmed.  She texted and told me.  I asked if she could use some help.  “Yes.  I’d love that.”

I know how to read between the lines.

Recognizing that this might be bigger than the two of us, I called my good friend, Coralie, explained the situation and within twenty minutes Coralie, her daughter, Kayley and I were on our way, heading for her school.

About 4 ½ hours later, with four of us working steadily, the classroom was transformed.  Bulletin boards were covered, shelves were organized, desks were cleaned, displays were put up, and we were tired. 

Coralie and Kayley had shown up.

They had not awakened that Saturday morning with nothing to do.  Both of them work, both have family commitments, both have hobbies and both have a laundry list of to-do’s to try to check off on Saturdays. Both would have loved a day off.  Both were in their pyjamas when I called.  Both showed up.

And by showing up, I don’t just mean showing up.  I mean showing up.

They could have arrived and done the same job without really ‘showing up’.  Instead they understood the overwhelm Kaitlyn (and I) were feeling, they acknowledged it and they spent the day helping us not only get the job done, but making us feel supported and seen.  It’s hard to verbalize what showing up means, but it is impossible to miss the feeling.

Coralie has shown up for me my entire adult life.  She shows up for me when a classroom needs help.  She also shows up for me in every small interaction she and I have.  With her, I know that when she is with me, sometimes by text or phone or email, she is showing up.  She is plugged in, engaged and not acting like she is just putting in time.  She has a way of making me, and every one else she engages with, feel valuable, visible and safely held.  This girl knows how to show up for life.

At the Celebration of Marilyn’s life this week, and at Janet’s a couple of months ago, everyone there showed up.  No one had critical phone calls to answer.  No one needed to post to, or check in with Facebook or Instagram.  No one was looking over a shoulder for a ‘better’ conversation.  Each of us was there for one reason.  To help those families feel valuable, visible and safely held.

My inquiry for you this week is, ‘How am I showing up?’
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Elizabeth is a certified, professional Life and Leadership Coach, and the owner of Critchley Coaching.  She is also the founder and president of the Canadian charity, RDL Building Hope Society.   She works with corporations, non-profits and the public sector, providing leadership and personal coaching for individuals and teams.  She creates and facilitates custom workshops for all sizes of groups.  Contact Elizabeth to learn how show up in your own life and in the lives of others.

When Richard Carlson wrote the book, “Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff… and It’s All Small Stuff”, his message was a good one.  Using very broad strokes to sum up what I think he meant was we shouldn’t get ourselves worked up over every single little thing that happens to or around us.  There is some sage wisdom in this.  There are most certainly things that tend to take up valuable real estate in our minds that could be used for a much better purpose. 

Getting worked up about whether a store has our particular brand of almost anything is small stuff.  Having our personal ‘pet project’ left off the weekly agenda at work is small stuff.  Snow storms are small stuff.  Gossip is small stuff.  Burnt cookies are small stuff.

However, I’ve had my focus on three bits of small stuff this week and it seems to me these are exactly the ‘small stuff’ about which I should be sweating. 

To begin, it was little Benjamin’s first birthday this week, and although he is not ‘stuff’, he is small.  He himself is small – he has only made one trip around the sun after all.  His needs are small, his things are small, his worries are small and his joys are small.  The reason we get to enjoy this very small, love-filled, happy, contented, quick-to-smile, secure little boy is because the adults in his life, his Mom and Dad, have been sweating the small stuff.  Because they do such a good job of making sure the small stuff is taken care of, he is free to grow into a confident child.  He is free to spend his energy doing exactly what he should be doing, exploring his safe world, enjoying all sorts of new foods, sleeping in a warm bed and feeling the love surrounding him. 

Sometimes someone needs to sweat the small stuff.

My second look at small stuff came in the form of a quote I read by Catherine M. Wallace.  ‘Listen earnestly to anything your children want to tell you, no matter what.  If you don’t listen eagerly to the little stuff when they are little, they won’t tell you the big stuff when they are big, because to them all of it has always been big stuff.’

We could rewrite this quote and easily remove the word ‘children’ and the message would still hold true.  When anyone is trying to tell us ‘small stuff’, it is easy for us to be distracted or to appear uninterested.  We do, after all, have our own very full plates of things to think about, to accomplish and to dream about.  It’s easy to dismiss the thoughts of others as small stuff.  I have witnessed over and over again, that when someone comes to me with seemingly small stuff, it is often big stuff to them.  Allowing them to ‘sweat their small stuff’ by saying it aloud, we give them the gift of being seen, of being taken seriously, of being treated as a valuable person and sometimes of helping them carry their burden. 

Sometimes we need to sweat the small stuff to clear the way for the big stuff.

​My third encounter with small stuff came from half a world away.  I work on the board of a Canadian Charity, The RDL Building Hope Society.  Our group raises money to fund the building of classrooms in Kenya.  The project started out as a bricks and mortar endeavor; we set out to raise $21 000 to build a two-classroom addition onto the crowded government school in Ewaso Ngiro, Kenya.  Eight years later, almost one-half million dollars raised and spent, we are proud to have built not only those two classrooms, but also an eight-classroom community school in the same region, complete with teachers’ quarters, garden and now kitchen, providing quality education for the local children.  This is not small stuff. 

With the economy struggling in Alberta over the last two years, our donations have understandably waned.  The school has needs that we cannot fill.
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This week we were able to, through an unexpected donation, purchase a gas cook-stove for the school and some desks for the newest classroom.  The stove allows volunteers at the school to provide the students with hot porridge each morning, and a hot lunch at noon.  The desks mean the children do not have to sit on the floor. 

To the donor, the amount of money sent was likely small stuff in terms of their wealth portfolio.  The decision to support our charity and the act of taking the time to donate the money could also be considered small stuff.  To most Canadian children, stoves, porridge and desks are small stuff.  To this community in Kenya, to these children and their families, this is not small stuff.  This is life-giving, hope-filling, dream-making stuff.

And they, and I are most grateful that someone is sweating the small stuff.

My inquiry for you this week is, ‘What small stuff needs sweating?’
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Elizabeth is the owner of Critchley Coaching.  She is also the founder and president of the Canadian charity, RDL Building Hope Society.   She works with corporations, non-profits and the public sector, providing leadership and personal coaching for individuals and teams.  She creates and facilitates custom workshops for all sizes of groups.  Contact Elizabeth to help you learn how to purposefully sweat the small stuff.

At the beginning of any New Year, the media often focuses on health trends, giving us tips on how to become physically fit, mentally agile and emotionally healthy.  One of the buzz expressions in the health industry this year is ‘gut health’.  If I am to believe what I read, this is the secret to all things related to good health and longevity.

The idea is that we are only as healthy as our gut.  Articles warn us that if we ignore our gut health, we could leave ourselves open to far more serious conditions.  And like any good, informative article, many lead with headlines like ‘Seven Indicators of a Healthy Gut’ or ‘Ten Miracle Foods for Optimum Gut Health’ or ‘Five Steps to a Healthy Gut’.
While I’m pretty confident that the popularity of gut health will wane, like the hundreds of fads before it, the idea of gut health has me intrigued. 

In my world of coaching, gut health has nothing to do with bran and fibre.  It doesn’t focus on blueberries or chia seeds.  It’s not found in water or cranberry juice.  And probiotics don’t even make my top ten gut health list.  When I think about gut health, I think about how well I am trusting and following my gut, especially when I am making decisions in my life. 
Our society is overachieving in the area of teaching us to look outside ourselves to gather information to help us make decisions.   It does a good job of convincing us that we are not good judges of what is best for ourselves.  We are encouraged to look to others for answers to everything, from what to eat, what to wear, what job to pursue, what conversations to have, and even what might bring us satisfaction.  My experience and my training tells me the complete opposite.   For most decisions we make concerning ourselves, we have all the information needed; right in our healthy gut.  The secret lies in listening to it and trusting it.

This past year I’ve had a wonderful seat in the arena of watching my daughter take on the role of a new mother.  I’m noticing that although she has never held this role before, she seems to know exactly what to do for her child.  Of course, she has read books to help her with clinical things, but considering each child arrives into this world with it’s very own DNA, there could not possibly be enough ‘do it yourself’ books to help in every situation.  There are times when she just seems to know intuitively that a particular thing will be helpful.

I find it fascinating that our society seems to accept and promote this particular brand of ‘gut health’.  We even have a fancy name for it: mother’s intuition or women’s intuition.  What absolutely stymies me is that the same society that gives women the green light to trust their judgment when raising human beings, also gives these same women the clear message to not trust themselves in other areas.  In their professional lives, women are often given mentors to guide them.  This reinforces the idea that guts are not to be trusted; they must look outside themselves for verification.  Many women in powerful positions are discouraged from involving their very healthy guts when performing leadership roles.
My gut has very rarely steered me wrong.  The times when I feel I have made my least successful decisions are times when I have allowed one of three things to happen; I acted based on feeling (perhaps not wanting to disappoint someone or make them feel less intelligent or powerful), I substituted someone else’s opinion for my own (perhaps trying to be liked or accepted) or I led with my ego.  Any of these things will lead to a decision being made.  None of them relies on a healthy gut.

To rely on our gut or our intuition, we need to get very quiet with ourselves.  We need to stop the outside chatter and listen to our inner wisdom.  We always know what is best for ourselves and if we are willing to be quiet and listen, the wisdom makes itself available to us.

This is not to say there are not many times when we should count on the wisdom of those who have gone before us.  If for example, I have a problem with my computer, no amount of me being quiet and listening to my gut will help.  I simply need to hire or ask someone who has this skill.  This is not a gut issue.  If I want to implement something at my workplace, it would be foolish of me to simply close my office door, get very quiet and then proceed as if I have had a mystical revelation.  I need to gather information from others. 

However, there are times, especially when we are making decisions involving our own lives and our own destiny, when no one else’s opinion can compete with our own gut.  No one knows what is best for us more than we ourselves.  No one.  There are people, of course, who like to think they do. More than once I’ve had someone tell me, ‘You know what you need’ – and then they proceed to let me know.  Very rarely have they ever gotten it right.

This week I treated myself to watching America’s Got Talent: The Champions.  Susan Boyle was a contestant.  I was imagining her prior to her first audition in 2009.  She did not fit the mold for a glamourous superstar.  In fact, when she took the stage and was asked what she was hoping for and she replied she wanted to have a career as a professional singer, she was laughed at.  When she started to sing, her magic was released.  I was thinking how lucky this world is that Susan Boyle listened to her own inner wisdom; her gut.  She knew better than anyone else in the world what was best for her and against all odds she chose to take the path that could lead her there.

I am not a Susan Boyle.  I do not have a talent that can still an audience or move people to tears.  However, I do know that when I have a friend on my mind, it most often means I should call them.  And when I just have a feeling I should go to an event, or reach out to a contact, or make a decision, or say a certain thing, my world has been enriched in ways even I could never have imagined.

My inquiry for you this week is, “What is my gut telling me?”
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Elizabeth provides leadership and personal coaching for individuals and teams.  She creates and facilitates custom workshops for corporate, public and private groups.  Contact Elizabeth to help you learn how enlist your healthy gut in making life-changing decisions.
 

This past week, continuing with our tradition of most post-Christmas weeks, we made sure our PVR and our schedules were available to watch Team Canada compete in the World Juniors Hockey Tournament, this year being held in Vancouver.  Last year we had the good fortune to be able to attend live one of the games in Buffalo, New York to watch Canada play in the outdoor match.  It was an incredible experience.

In the game of hockey, clearly the goal of each team is to score more points in the opposite team’s net than the other manages to do.  If only it were a simple task.  Teams study each other’s plays prior to the games and try to come up with defensive techniques that will hinder the success of their opponents.  At the same time each team develops offensive plays that will offer them the best chance of scoring. 

Part of the offensive strategy is to create plays that will leave one player open, uncovered by one of the opposition players, for even just a few seconds; just long enough for them to receive a pass and make either another pass or a shot on net.  Of course, if none of his teammates notices this player is open, he will not receive the puck and his effort will have been for naught.

One of the things players learn to do from a very young age is to make themselves noticed when they are in this position.  One of their strategies is to ‘call’ for the puck by giving their stick a quick tap or a couple of taps on the ice.  This motion is recognized by other players as a signal to pass the puck to the open player.  There is a trust involved in this interaction; players should not tap their stick simply because they wish to have the puck.  They tap because there is an opportunity available and they are ready to act.  They have done the work required to put themselves in the position to execute and by tapping they are stating their readiness to perform.

If only life had such clear-cut plays. If only we each knew how to tap our stick to become noticed, at exactly the time we were ready.

Many times in life, we work incredibly hard, striving toward mastering a new skill, setting ourselves up for a promotion or working on our social game, each time thinking and hoping we will be noticed when exactly the right opportunity appears.  Many times, the opportunity comes and goes and we are left wondering how it was possible that we were not noticed.  Not only may we have been unnoticed, but to add insult to injury, it may be that someone less accomplished or competent, may have been given the invitation to accept the opportunity.

We can spend hours and days wondering how we could have been overlooked.  Typically, our response is to assume we did not quite make the mark, and we put our heads down, get back to work and hope we are noticed the next time.  Alas, the real problem may not be the one we think it is.  It is possible we were the best candidate.  It is possible we were best qualified.  It is possible we were in the right position.  And it is possible we simply forgot to tap our stick.

Tara Mohr, in her book Playing Big, describes how this is an especially common phenomenon for women.  She describes how girls and women are trained to have ‘good student habits’.  In most classrooms, astute students can learn the expectations of any teacher quite quickly.  They understand what is required to obtain excellent marks and they put their heads down and get to work.  They are rewarded with marks that reinforce their good efforts.  The problem is they need not tap their sticks to receive the reward and many of them never realize that there even are sticks to be tapped.  They enter the workforce and their adult lives assuming they will be noticed if they are good enough.  No one ever lets them know the little secret of stick tapping.  A lot of us are left out of not only promotions and meetings because of this, we can also be left out of simple decision making in our daily lives.  It isn’t that we don’t have good ideas or don’t want to be considered.  We have simply over-practiced working hard and hoping others notice us rather than learning to spend a little bit of time understanding when and how to tap our sticks.

My good friend Geoff often takes trips with his teenaged son.  Geoff was telling me how on the trips, his son, when asked where he might like to go for dinner or what he might like to see during a day trip, would often reply with, “I don’t know” or “I don’t really care”.  His son was not being difficult, he was simply doing what was easy.  Geoff astutely recognized that this behaviour would not serve his son well in life and he explained to him that in the adult world, not having an opinion was not an option.  Geoff then tasked his son with planning every second day of each trip.  The plans needed to include searching out points of interest and intriguing restaurants.  He also explained to his son that the plans would not always unfold smoothly, just as in life, and he needed to be able to be flexible.  Geoff told me that while he and his son had always had a wonderful time travelling together, now the trips were even more memorable.

As I listened to Geoff tell me about these trips and his parenting, it dawned on me that Geoff was teaching his son something I had really never learned until late, late in life; he was teaching him to tap his stick.  He was teaching him that when opportunities arise and when he is in a position to act, he needed to become visible.  He needed to use his voice.  He needed to, with his actions, say “I have prepared, I have something to offer, and I am ready”.   

The boys on Team Canada tapped their sticks this past week and although I’m sure that along with the rest of us, their hearts broke with their loss to Finland in the quarter final, they showed all of Canada that they know about stick tapping.  No matter the outcome of that game, each of them came prepared, had something valuable to offer, made themselves visible, was willing to tap their stick and not be afraid to take risks.  They should be proud.

Each of us has plenty to offer to this world this year.  Each of us have skills and ideas.  Each of us wants to be recognized and selected.  Each of us will put ourselves in positions where we have opportunities to be noticed.  I hope each of us will have the courage to tap our stick.

My inquiry for you this week is, ‘What stick needs tapping?’
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Elizabeth provides leadership and personal coaching for individuals and teams.  She creates and facilitates custom workshops for corporate, public and private groups.  Contact Elizabeth to help you learn how to tap your stick.