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.