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.
 

Happy New Year!  In just a couple of days we will sing Auld Lang Syne, bid adieu to this year and herald in 2019.  From December’s point of view, the year feels as if it has flown past and yet when we look at a new, unwritten upon year, we have the illusion that it will be in this next year we have all the time we need for all the things we want to accomplish or try and all the dreams we dream.  Alas, the realists among us know that in a blink, we will once again be looking back on this year and wondering how it got away on us.

This is the time of the year when Astrologists get their moments of fame as they make predictions for the upcoming year.  Theirs is the science that studies the placement of the objects in the sky at different times of the year and makes predictions from these celestial beings on our very terrestrial lives.

I love to read my New Year horoscope.  I don’t put any stock in it at all but it sure makes me feel good to know that ‘Jupiter is in my house’ and ‘this is the best time for investments, love and business’.  Imagine!  As I was thinking about my 2019 horoscope, I wondered what it would be like if instead of looking to the sky to see what might be in our futures, we could start with a blank dark sky and place in it the stars, constellations and other celestial objects of our choosing.

To begin our sky portrait, we would need to begin by placing the big objects.  The moon, with her strong gravitational pull, is said to influence our mood.  As we place the moon in our sky, it would be nice to create it so that it illuminates not only the feelings we have that seem to just come over us, but also the feelings we wish to create within ourselves.  Placing the moon is no small responsibility, for not only do our moods affect ourselves, our work and our dreams, they also affect each person with whom we have any interaction.

In my sky, I’d make my moon full, so as not to hide or minimize my feelings.

Constellations are also needed to bring out the best of the night sky.  Constellations are groups of stars that form recognizable patterns.  Each pattern, or group can always be found together.  In Astrology and Astronomy, each constellation is named and has a distinct shape which can often be identified as a mythological creature after which it is named.  Most of us can pick out the Big Dipper in the night sky.  Some have an eye trained well enough to find Orion’s Belt or The Three Sisters as she is sometimes called.

When we place our own constellations in our 2019 sky, it will be important to pick some things that we will be proud to look back on and recognize.   We want to be able to point to 2019 and pick out some projects or trips we completed. Our constellations may also take the shape of our family or friends.  Perhaps we will hone a new skill, thus placing a fiddle or ukulele in our personal sky. 

In my 2019 sky, I’ll need to have some object that represents creativity for I know I want to experiment with some new skills in this area.  Perhaps four knitting needles might signify my imagined ability to make socks.  And I’ll have to have a lighthouse that might represent the leadership course I plan to take.  I may even place a large group of stars closely together to represent audiences and clients I will work with.  It is possible there could be a wheel of some kind to remind me that once my foot is mended, I will get back on my bike and set some new goals.

After placing the moon and constellations in our sky, we have the lovely final job of scattering it with some individual stars.  These represent the people we hope to give our attention to this upcoming year.  Some of these stars will be easy to place.  These are bright stars in our worlds.  We already know we want to make time for these people.  But there will be many other smaller stars waiting to be placed too.  There really is no limit to their number.  These represent people we may not yet know, or people with whom our connection may be brief or even unremarkable.  However, the way we place these little stars may also represent how we will choose to treat each of these encounters.

In my 2019 sky, I want to have many bright stars; each one of them representing treasured people and things in my life.  Some of the stars, like the morning and evening star, will be impossible to miss as they represent qualities and people that are certain in my life.  I want some of my stars to have the look of increasing in brightness even as I look at my sky.  These will represent people I want to develop more meaningful relationships with.  For certain, I will place a few minuscule specks of stars among the well-established ones.   These will be the stars that call for me to look carefully, underneath the surface, not overlook them or their potential treasures.  And I certainly will have at least one shooting star; to remind me to give my absolute best to some things.

A couple will be small but mighty stars, like little Benjamin.  He is only just beginning to understand how his shining affects others.  A year ago, he was but a speck in my sky; he now lights up our world.

If my 2019 is a blank sky, I hope that by the end of it I can make it so captivating that people will want to join me in gazing at it in amazement.  I want it to have Northern Lights dancing across it representing magic, growth, beauty, friends, happiness and of course, dancing.

I wish for you, a 2019 sky filled with exactly the stars, constellations and moons you pick to make your year the precise one of your imagination.

My inquiry for you this week is, ‘What star am I placing in my sky?’
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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 discover how to create the sky of your imagination.
 
 

Early today while the sun was just peeking over the horizon in the east and I was driving toward the west to pick up the last of our Christmas groceries, I was lucky enough to see a beautiful shooting in the pinkish morning sky.  I thought about stars and the significance they can have in our lives.

I’ve always struggled a bit with the phrase ‘Be the star in your own life’.   It somehow conjures up images of me having to take centre stage.  Of having to draw the attention to myself.  Of having to be witty and smart and beautiful enough to make others want to stop what they are doing and take notice of me. 

The idea of what it means to be a star gets reinforced even more strongly when we think about the people we consider to be stars.  We even give them the name ‘stars’; movie stars.  This season the movie ‘A Star Is Born’, absolutely fantastic from all accounts by the way, cements the idea of a star being someone who is firmly in the spotlight.

Stars, in our context of popular culture, often have fame attached to them.  These are the people whose names each of us is familiar with.  We say things like, ‘She became a star in the nineties’ or ‘He shot to stardom last year’.  When you are a star, there seems to be a pressure associated with it.  It is as if when you are bestowed this title, it comes with an expectation; an expectation of some kind of perfection that is often defined by others.  The general public is shocked when they happen to get a glimpse of a ‘star’ just being a regular person.

For me being the star in my own life has always seemed like too much pressure. I’ve often thought that being a really good supporting actor is a better fit for me.  It allows me to be good but doesn’t put me in the awkward position of being selfish or giving the appearance of being a diva or being conceited.  No doubt this stems from my upbringing where being the star of the show was not encouraged.

A couple of weeks ago, however, I had the chance to listen to someone who has caused me to rethink the star thing.  We were at the Natalie McMaster Christmas concert at the Jubilee Auditorium. I had seen Natalie McMaster in the spring and had been incredibly moved by her fiddling, dancing and especially by her down-to-earth manner.  When I heard she was planning a Christmas show that included her husband Donnell Leahy and five of their seven children it didn’t take long for me to get tickets!

The show did not disappoint.  Natalie was her beautiful, relaxed, welcoming self.  She and Donnell played flawlessly together.  When they welcomed their children on to the stage to fiddle and dance, there was no question in my mind that the stage was filled with stars of the best kind.

There also happened to be a narrator involved in the concert and it was he who really got me thinking about stars.  He mentioned about how stars have been used for centuries by explorers to guide the way.   This idea had me pairing my idea of a person who is a star and the astrological usage of stars.

In the days of the early explorers, as they set out to explore the world, these adventurers would use stars to navigate.  The Big Dipper was commonly used to keep a ship on course or to get it back on course if it had strayed.  Other reports talk about the North Star being a guide because it does not dip below the horizon.

In the Christian faith there is a belief that it was a star that guided the wise people to the manger where the Baby Jesus lay.  The Three Kings, the Magi, saw the star in the East and followed it. 

The idea of these stars, these invaluable signposts, allow me to rethink my idea about being the star in my own life.  The reason these stars were so important was because they could be counted on to be themselves.  Explorers and Magi alike knew that they could depend on the stars to be in the same position night upon night.  The stars seemed to understand exactly what they were best at being and they performed without fail; not to be the brightest, not to have the best colour, not to have the best shape or to demand all the attention, but to be doing exactly the job they knew how to best do.  If this is what is required to be a star, I believe I can succeed in becoming one.

To be a star in one’s own life only requires us to understand who we are when we are living in alignment with our values and to steadfastly live this way to the best of our abilities.  When others think about us, or come to us for a visit, or call us, or ask us for help, they do so with the great hope that when they find us, we shine with the consistency they have come to expect.  They do not expect us to be the best or the flashiest or any other thing we are not.  They do hope to find us in our natural place in the world shining in a way that is unique to each of us.

This I can do.  I can live with integrity, showing up in all places in my life in the same way.  I can be counted on to treat people of all walks of life with dignity.  I can welcome princes and paupers into my world.  I suspect what I loved about the Leahy-McMaster family, besides the joy they brought to my heart with their music, was the certainty they portrayed that whether I happened to see them in a store, in their home or on a beautiful stage, I would be seeing the same people.  These truly were a family of stars.

In this week of Christmas, my hope is that each of us can be the star that is needed in our lives.  I hope we can proudly and confidently show up as ourselves.  I hope we can be a steady and safe guide for others.  I hope we find a place of great importance to show up exactly as ourselves, and to understand that this is all that is required of us.

May you each have a wonderfully peaceful, merry and star-filled Christmas.

My inquiry for you this week is, ‘What is my star?’
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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 discover more ways to bring your star to your life.

Last weekend the CP Holiday Train pulled into Anderson Station in Calgary.  For the past twenty years, this train has begun its journey in late November, leaving the eastern parts of Canada and the USA, heading west and stopping at town after town on its way, ending the excursion before Christmas.   I can only guess that millions and millions of dollars of donations have sprung forth because of this initiative, along with more millions of food bank items.  As it chugs into each station, it shines a spotlight not only on the importance of each of us helping to take care of those who need a little boost but also on the incredible feeling we get when we know we have helped, even in a small way, someone else.

I also love the idea that each person’s individual donation is added to the collective, essentially rendering it anonymous.  It becomes less ‘That one is the box of cereal I donated’ and more ‘Look how we all just helped make this season a bit better’.   In this way, this tradition adds to the magic of the Christmas season. 

As I thought about the CP train this past week, I recognized that each of us takes a ‘train ride’ this holiday season too.  We each hop aboard our own Holiday Express.   Each of our trains stop at many different stations on the way. At some stops, we pause only long enough to make a quick pick-up.  These are the stops like the grocery store, or the mall, or even at a colleague’s office for a quick conversation.  Other times we get right off the train and do a little exploring.  These may be the longer stops, like ones where we visit family or old friends.  Or perhaps these are the stops where we take the time to go ice skating or play a board game.  Sometimes, of course, we even hitch a ride on ‘the bullet’; the train travelling so fast we barely recognize stations as we whiz past.

This year as we find ourselves absorbed by our own journey on our own Holiday Train, it’s worth remembering that just as it is important that our train arrives at all of our planned stations, it is equally important that we recognize that there are people anxiously awaiting us at each stop.  The CN Holiday Train would not have had a fraction of its success had it advertised that people could just show up at the station any time during the day, drop their food donation in a bin, and leave their money with the station master.  Part of the success of this amazing tradition is the anticipation of the train in each town and city. 

For starters, the train itself looks pretty sharp, decked out in sparkling coloured Christmas lights.  Each station prepares a celebration.   Musicians are on hand, filling the air with a wonderful energy.  Decorations are hung, letting us know something important is at hand.  Everyone is included and made to feel welcome and important.  The anticipation in the faces of the crowd let us know the preparations have been worth the effort.

As I recall some moments of Christmases past, I know there have been times when I have been so concerned with just getting into and out of each station, I have failed completely to notice that others have been awaiting my arrival, and that they have gone to great effort to make my stay, short or long, a good one.  Similarly, when I have acted as the ‘station’, where other trains have arrived at my door, I may not have put quite as much care into making arrivals feel as important as they really were.  I wonder if I may sometimes have stopped only long enough to pick up or drop off guilt and a feeling of inadequacy, rather than noticing all the other gifts at my disposal.

When our kids were very young, I heard about a wonderful little December idea that I soon adopted.  We always set out a Nativity display in our home.  It goes without saying this is not a tradition unique to our family.  The new idea was to set a basket of straw beside the stable.  The kids were told that during the month of December, we were each to think of things we could do to help out at home, or things that would be kindnesses to others.  As we quietly did each of these, we were to secretly, without telling anyone, take a piece of straw and place it under baby Jesus; the idea being that if we celebrated December with the spirit of the season, Baby Jesus would have a very soft bed to lay in on Christmas morning.  Of all the traditions we held, this one may have been my favourite.  There is nothing like taking a small piece of straw and placing it in a manger to force us to remember the importance of the little things at this very busy time of year. 

Each year starting from the day in early December when I would ask my friend, Cheryl, to bring me a little bag of straw from her ranch to use in our basket, right through to Christmas morning, this little Christmas tradition of ours was the most helpful for me to slow down my train, to be mindful of what I picked up at each station and of what I dropped off. 
May you too find just the right Holiday Train to  board for these next few weeks.

My inquiry for you this week is, ‘What train am I on?’
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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 sort out the train schedule ensuring you stop at only the most important stations.

As the days count down to Christmas, I’ve been thinking it’s time to start my baking.  It’s one of the lead- up activities I love.  I learned to bake at a young age.   It reminds me of time spent in the kitchen with my mother and my sisters, feeling very grown up as I learned to blend and stir and add just the right amounts of ingredients.  Pie crusts were mastered when I was young and I still find myself surprised when a friend mentions that they are afraid to tackle this culinary delight; for us it was just a staple item. 

When I grew up and had my own family celebrating our own Christmases here in the West, I continued the tradition of baking, keeping some of our original recipes and adding some new delights.  Over time, I figured out our ‘favourites’ and for many years I repeated my faithful recipes.  Lately, I’ve tried some new ones and have let some others go.

Last weekend, our daughter, Kaitlyn, sent me a picture of a new shortbread cookie she was trying.  She mentioned she was testing out some new recipes this year.  As I thought about this idea of recipes, about whether the old tried and true ones or the new ones were ‘best’ it struck me that not only do each of us have favourite food recipes we use year over year, we may also have developed habitual recipes that we turn to.

It’s possible that just as Aunt Flo’s jellied salad isn’t as much of a treat as she once thought it was, perhaps some of our recipes need a revamp too!

When I think back to a familiar recipe I’ve used to prepare myself and our family for Christmas, there are many ingredients I would not change at all.  I always tried to make the month of December a fun one, starting with hanging up the Advent Calendar on December first. The day the calendar was hung was a big deal.  Jim made the calendar out of Bristol board, drawing a house and twenty-five opening doors on it.  Behind each door, before I went to bed each night, I would place a little sign behind the door that corresponded to the next day’s date telling the kids what Christmas activity we would be doing that day.  The activities could be as simple as ‘Christmas Hot Chocolate’ or something requiring more time like ‘Visit Heritage Park’.  The kids loved it and we loved it.  It forced us to make sure we did not put off doing things that would some day be looked back upon as traditions.

When our children went off to university, each of them chose a place of study that allowed them to experience living away from home.  As December approached each of those years, I knew that not only were they ‘too big’ for our old Advent Calendar, but they were not even home to open the doors.  I also figured out that if I was missing them and this tradition, then they were likely missing it too.  So, I modified it slightly and decided to include all of their roommates in the festivities.  I created the Twelve Days of Christmas, shopping to find little gifts that they could open each day with their roommates, and packaging it up and sending it off in time for the first of December.  Each gift had the date of opening on it.  Some gifts were just as simple as what we had done when the kids were tiny.  For Greg’s four ‘engineering type’ roommates, their first day required them each to make a paper chain so they could count down the days until they could go home.  I don’t remember all of the gifts but I think they enjoyed a Christmas movie together, wore Christmas socks and drank hot chocolate.  Greg said they gathered every evening after supper, before they settled down to study to open their little gift.  He told us that they absolutely loved it.  None of them wanted to miss the ritual of the evening.

I now understand that creating traditions and making Christmas visible were crucial ingredients in my Christmas recipe.
Another ingredient that I liked to sprinkle into my recipe was music.  I played carols in the house while we tackled chores that needed doing.  Baking and board games were added to the recipe in healthy doses. 

Generosity was a topping for my Christmas recipe.  We tried to model the gift of giving by feeding the animals that visited our yard, leaving carrots and apples for the deer and filling bird feeders for our feathered friends.  We bought and left secret gifts for people we thought might welcome them and we participated in school charity events.

When I look back, I notice I have switched out some ingredients from my old recipes these days.  Whereas I once needed the order of the Calendar to help me get things done and to teach the kids the importance of tradition, I now bake with a good supply of flexibility.  As our kids have families of their own to consider, I want them to create their own traditions and memories and so I’m happy to adjust some of my own.

I know too that I’ve completely eliminated some of the old ingredients.  Perhaps I’ve noticed the ‘best before’ date and realized that trying to keep using these might not create the end product I’m imagining.

This past week, our daughter Kaitlyn, put out her new Advent Calendar for little Benjamin.   Jim made it for their family.  This time, he could afford to build it out of wood and he had the advantage of time.  He worked on it over the winter last year.  Ben is too young to understand any of this.  Not the activities or the gifts.  He is not too young to experience the feeling of it.  And I love that this particular favourite recipe has been passed along to a new generation.  It is updated and modernized and yet it is completely the same.

As you enter this second week of the Christmas month, you’ll likely start pulling out old recipes of your own.  Hopefully you’ll use only ingredients that will feed the true Christmas spirit in your life.

My inquiry for you this week is, ‘What ingredients shall I use today?’
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Elizabeth creates and facilitates custom workshops for corporate, public and private groups.  She provides leadership and personal coaching for individuals and teams.  Contact Elizabeth to help you uncover your most authentic recipe for creating your best results.
 

This week I’ve been working on a Christmas gift; a photo book of our trip to Scotland.  In the age of digital pictures, we often take many shots on our holiday, then come home and save them in a neatly labeled file on our computer.  I can’t recall ever inviting anyone to come and sit and look at them with me. 

In the old days, our cameras were fitted with film and part of the excitement following the trip was sending the film away and waiting for the prints to arrive.  Of course, we had no way of knowing which, if any, of the pictures would turn out.  But when the package did arrive, we delighted in sharing our memories with anyone who would look.

So, this week, I sat down at my computer with three files open, one from Jim’s camera, one from Victoria’s and mine.  I wanted to journal our bike trip day by day so I was searching for just the right pictures that might capture not only the beautiful scenery we cycled past but also the feelings we had while we were together.

Once I had finally assembled my chosen pictures to correspond with the appropriate days, and with any luck had placed them in the right sequence, I was ready to do my final editing.  As I cropped and placed the final photos in place, I remembered that for photo albums I’ve created in the past, I’ve put a miniature picture, and sometimes a quote, on the very back cover.  This time I knew what mini-picture I wanted and niggling in my mind was the wisp of a phrase I had seen and loved in the Edinburgh airport that I thought might be a perfect ending to the book; if only I could think of it.

A google search turned up nothing.  I knew I would know the phrase as soon as I saw it.  It had been written above the door to the departure lounge and when I had read it, it brought tears to my eyes and filled my heart.  But for the life of me, I could not remember.  Luckily, I do know that often when I’m trying too hard to recall something, I have little luck, but when I allow my mind relax and carry on with my day, crucial bits of information will fall into it at unsuspecting times.
You can imagine my complete lack of surprise when I was blow drying my hair and suddenly thought, ‘Haste Ye Back’.

Haste Ye Back.  To me, this brings to mind images not only of good friends bidding each other goodbye, wishing their time together could have been longer, but it also stirred up thoughts of events and moments and even things from our lives that go by so quickly we wish we could hang on to them a bit longer or that we could bring the essence of them back into our present day lives.

I think of the many years we would visit my parents on their farm in Ontario after Jim and I moved to Alberta.  In those days we returned home once each year, first with no children and then with Kaitlyn and then Gregory, staying about two weeks and splitting our time between our two families.  Each year, when it came time to say goodbye to my Dad, he always fought tears and once we were in our car, he hastened to the barn to chop some wood, each blow of the ax lessening the blow of our leaving.  Had he been a Scotsman, I might picture him whispering ‘Haste Ye Back’.

With December now upon us and Christmas only a few weeks away, I recognize this time of year as one when I wish I could hasten back to moments and feelings in my life when things felt ‘just right’.  The hands of time go faster and faster each year and sometimes I wish I could talk to past Christmas seasons saying, ‘Haste Ye Back’.

When we moved from our acreage a few years ago, Christmas just did not feel like Christmas in the new house.  This year I finally realized one of the pieces I was missing. On the acreage, Jim and I would spend one entire day each November, before the temperature got too low, decorating about fifteen spruce trees on our front and back lawn.  When we drove down our driveway, they welcomed us.  Whether we were sitting in our living room or doing dishes in the kitchen, we could enjoy them through our windows.  When I would coil them up and pack them in boxes after the season, it was if I would whisper to them, ‘Haste Ye Back’. 

In the new house, there was simply no way to replicate this.  In fact, the first year in the new house we gave away our many strings of lights, realizing we had no place for them.

For the last two years Jim has hinted that he’d love it if we would put lights on the lone evergreen tree on our front lawn.  I’ve resisted; the tree is over thirty feet high and whereas we always did our own light display on the acreage, we would never be able to do this one ‘right’ ourselves.  Finally, this year I came to the realization that one of the things I was missing was those lights.  While we could never recreate what we had once had, we could create something new; something that would take our hearts back to a place of fond memories, and give us permission to make new ones.  Jim made the phone call and drove over to Canadian Tire to buy the new lights and this weekend we are loving our beautifully lit tree. 

Such a small thing to bring back such a big feeling.

This busy December, I invite each of you to look back into the box of Christmas memories you hold in your mind and whisper ‘Haste Ye Back’ to the traditions, customs and friendships that you still might have room for in this year’s festivities.  When Victoria opens her gift of the photo album on Christmas, I hope she is hastened back to our most wonderful time together this past Fall.

My inquiry for you this week is, ‘Who or what is waiting to hear me whisper, ‘Haste Ye Back’?’
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Elizabeth creates and facilitates custom workshops for corporate, public and private groups.  She provides leadership and personal coaching for individuals and teams.  Contact Elizabeth to help hasten you back to the values that serve you best in life and business.

You’ll be relieved to know I’ve finally finished my most important knitting projects for Christmas.  I still have a few smaller things to work on, so when the doctor told me I’d have at least another two weeks in this air cast, I soothed my feelings of disappointment knowing there is still work to do!   Not to give the secret of my gifts away, suffice it to say they each have a front, a back and two sleeves and they are now all stitched together and ready to wrap.

I like to wrap my knitted gifts in boxes, partly because it’s easier, partly because I can make nice neat packages and partly because I can add ribbons and bows to make them look pretty.  I also love to write out the label and affix it immediately so there is no mistaking who the gift is intended for.  For years my tendency has been to find a box that matches the gift that will fit inside it.  I like the gift to fit just nicely inside; I don’t want it to be swimming in space, nor do I want to have to sit on the box to get it to close.  Alas, the best laid plans of mice and men….

This year the first wrench in my neatly designed box-wrapping world revealed itself when after digging through our wrapping paper bin, I couldn’t find any box to fit my knitted projects.  And then I remembered that even if I had found just the perfect box, our son-in-law Matt, loves to get a gift where the box in no way matches the gift!  In his family, one of their traditions on Christmas morning is to stump each other by wrapping gifts disguised in crazy boxes having nothing to do with the labeling on the box.  A box showing an ‘in the shell egg scrambler’ might in fact house some blue-tooth headphones!  I think they have as much fun finding the ‘right’ box as they do finding the perfect gift.

My first inclination upon hearing this was to think that this was an odd tradition.  I’d always loved it when the store where I made my purchase would offer me an appropriate box to wrap it in.  It was only out of desperation that I’d need to improvise.  And yet here was an entire family making a game out of improvisation. 

And of course, this got me thinking.

We humans love order.  We find it frustrating when we open a box labelled ‘outdoor lights’ only to discover garland and twinkle lights used for decorating the banister.  Classifying, grouping, finding patterns, ordering and labeling is how our minds make sense out of things.  When we are introduced to a new object or a new concept, or even a new person, our mind quickly goes to work and tries to figure out what neatly labeled box in our mind, this new thing will best fit inside.   It relaxes us once we ‘make sense’ out of something new or foreign.

It’s confusing when we think we have a person figured out; we have them neatly placed in a box and labeled, only to have them reveal a part of themselves that in no way fits our labeling system.  When this happens, our brains go into overdrive trying to reframe their behaviour in a way that allows us to jam them back into the box we created for them, close the lid and reuse our original label. 

It’s even more frightening to think of all the opportunities that have been missed when a person has been labeled at a young age and has never realized they have the power to simply peel the label off and redefine themselves.  Or better yet, to not define themselves at all.

If I had a dime for every student, new to my math classroom, who said, or had their parent say, “Annie’s (choose the name) not good at math”, I’d likely cry over the beautiful gift I could afford to buy myself.  I’d always reply, “Oh!  I’ve never met a student who can’t do math.  I’ll bet you just haven’t found the right classroom yet.  I think you might be in the right place now.  Welcome!’

What a disservice we do to our children when we give them a label at a young age; it’s the same disservice we do to each other when we confidently slap on labels and then refuse to see any new possibilities.  Even seemingly innocent labels are limiting.  Labels like shy, careful, clumsy, athletic, artistic, logical, good, obedient, conservative, stubborn, Conservative, easy-going, liberal, Liberal, tentative, outgoing all force us to be seen in only one dimension.  The truth is each of us has the capacity to demonstrate unlimited dimensions and unlimited possibility. 

In my above description of how I love to wrap using boxes of just the right size, a person who does not know me well might justifiably jump to the conclusion, and label me as an order-freak.  They would not be completely wrong but they would not be right.  I do love order.  I love the sense of calm it brings me.  But there is nothing I love more than to discover a side of someone I thought I had ‘figured out’.  I love to watch people break barriers and stereotypes.  I love to encourage people to hone a skill they had been told they were ‘no good’ at.  This part of disorder, I love. 

Order, like all labels lie on a continuum.  We are not either/or in any facet of our personalities.  On different days, in different seasons, in different circumstances we slide up and down the scale, sometimes becoming more or less of a thing.  When we feel labeled, or boxed in, it is as though we lose our ability to slide, to grow or become something new.
Matt’s family has it just right.  They understand that the labeling on the packaging is not always a good reflection of the interior of a thing.  They keep an open mind to what might be revealed upon closer inspection. They show an amazing, rare sense of curiosity not only when opening gifts but when talking with people.  And this may be the best gift of all.
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My inquiry for you this week is, ‘I wonder what’s inside?’

Elizabeth creates and facilitates custom workshops for corporate, public and private groups.  She provides leadership and personal coaching for individuals and groups.  Contact Elizabeth to help you use curiosity rather than labels.

Every once in a while, I am reminded that it is better to listen than to talk.  I’ve learned a few things by talking and many more by listening. 
 
A couple of weeks ago I posted a blog entitled, ‘Halloween: Who Will You Go As?’ You may recall that this blog described how our friend, Kathleen had come to our house for the day while her parents were away attending Glendon’s convocation with his Masters Degree from the Ivey School of Business at the University of Western Ontario. I’ve received a lot of feedback on this particular piece.  One of the responses that touched me was the following one written by Kathleen’s older brother, Glendon.  In his letter to me, Glendon not only tells of his journey from young teenager to present day businessman, he also manages to illustrate what happens when a person chooses to not be led by fear, but rather to choose a meaningful value to lead them.  Despite the competitive business world he has entered, Glendon has chosen to lead with love.  What a message!
 
Please indulge me as I ‘listen’ to Glendon’s words this week rather than ‘talking’.  I invite you, with Glendon’s permission, to join me in enjoying his letter.
 
Dear Mrs. Critchley,
 
Thank you for your generosity in taking Kathleen this past Friday for our family. It was a selfless act in our time of need and it allowed me to spend a weekend capping my academic accomplishments with the people who matter most to me, my parents.
 
The world, and life, seem to be chock full of serendipity and fortunate circumstances that I can't quite explain, your most recent blog post was one such moment, coming on a weekend where I got to celebrate graduation from a school that I would have never gone to had your son, Greg, not had a chat with me two summers ago.
 
I'll always remember his kindness and generosity in showing me around campus and it was one of those things where I immediately felt like I was home.  I think the seeds of my success were planted a very long time ago.
 
The tremendous positive influence you held over the Red Deer Lake community during your years as a teacher was something that absolutely shaped me into the person I am today. I so vividly remember entering Junior High and from the moment I was in Grade 7, I dreamed of being in Class 9A: Mrs. Critchley's home room. Life finds a way, and I'll always look to Grade 9 as a seminal point in my development after what was a rocky and tumultuous year in Grade 8. That was the first time in my life where I felt comfortable and encouraged to "just go as yourself".
 
Throughout my educational career I seemed to stumble out of the blocks and find my stride. High school was like that for me and it wasn’t until I reached Grade 12 that I was once again able to shed trying to "fit in" and was able to "just go as yourself".
 
When University arrived, I made the choice to forge new beginnings and move a province away. That first year away from home was a challenge.  Where my natural academic strength was once sufficient for success, I found myself learning how to study for the first time, while struggling to stay afloat in the sea of independence and temptation. It was a fight I almost lost. I barely scraped by Calculus, and perhaps would not have if Dad had not come to stay with me the weekend prior to my calculus exam. I exited first year, 220 lbs, unhealthy, unhappy, and ready for a change. It's hard to pinpoint exactly what I changed but I managed to shed 30 pounds that summer and 70 pounds total over the next year and a half. With my physical transformation, came a mental one, back to being myself. I was confident in who I was, in the relationships I held and in the impact I could have. I ended my undergraduate career with many friendships I still hold close, and a renewed sense of who I was. Or so I thought.
 
The crushing disappointment of not finding a job was only outweighed by the nagging feeling that I had self sabotaged on purpose. On a long summer drive to visit friends at a South Saskatchewan cabin I had a serious realization about my future. I could have found a cozy production job at an oil and gas company and proceeded to grind the career ladder for the next 30 years. I would be successful at that, I would be a millionaire, I could have a family. And I knew I would be absolutely miserable. A large catalyst for my desire to change was a dear friend who shared with me that summer that she was expecting a baby. A pregnancy she had not wanted at first but grew to accept and by the time she shared with me, a baby she was ready to sacrifice her career and life for, because of love.
 
That made me realize why I desired my change. I wanted love. I wanted to love what I did for work. I wanted to love the path I chose. And above all, I wanted to do what I had done every time I had "just gone as myself", I needed to LOVE ME. It was soon after this that I had my chat with Greg and fell in love with Ivey. I went across the country with a singular mission, a purpose, a fire, and a passion I had never had before; I was going to Ivey, Canada's top business school, ready to conquer the bureaucracy and elitism with love, I was going "just as yourself".
 
From baking for my classmates every Thursday for three straight semesters, to taking a risk I could have never imagined, and running for class president I led with love and continued to reveal myself.  I forged strong relationships with my professors, and even closer ties with every single one of my classmates. I spent my entire time at Ivey, as Glendon William Hass. Not as the Calgary kid. Not as a Chemical Engineer. Not as someone from a middle -class family. Not as someone born with Goldenhar Syndrome. I was myself, Glendon, from day one to the end, and my mission every day from the time I woke up until the time I went to sleep was to make someone’s day better and to empower my classmates to be their best.
 
I believe people truly transform and unlock their potential when they're fully committed to being authentic and true to who they are. Ivey was my test ground in the tough, cold business world of applying my mission of love and care to everything I did. Whether it was recommending job posts, helping with class homework, representing the class on student council, getting to know the personal stories behind the people I saw every day, driving friends to and from parties, participating on intramural sports teams or waiting patiently for a job offer I would love, I did it all "Just As Myself".
 
I can't say the rewards weren't worth it. As I crossed the stage at Western on Friday, I knew my chapter at Ivey had come to a close and I had filled every single page of the book with a story I was proud to tell. My academic success followed and I was overjoyed to see the fruits of my labour, finishing as an Ivey Scholar with the top marks in my stream. I knew the names of every one of my classmates. I found a job that has allowed me further room to continue to grow and "Just Go As Yourself". I owe so much of my success to the unwavering support of my parents. Without their empathy, kindness, but most of all, their love, I would not be half the man I am today. They stuck with me and believed in me when times were tough and when I didn't believe in myself. I love them for that. I love them for being such role models of living lives with love.
 
Thank you, Liz, for being an amazing teacher, neighbor, mentor, and supporter. I know you have played a large role in shaping my story and I find it so apropos that your blog post this week, “Just Go As Yourself" was brought about by your love and kindness towards our family on a weekend that came about because of your family as well.
 
I have a goal to support and influence the ability of millions to be our future leaders. How this dream will come to be is still a bit of a mystery to me, but I'm sure you'll be happy to hear it involves a passion for education and empowering others to do just as I have, and "Go As Yourself"
 
Thank you for everything!
 
Much Love,
Glendon Hass
 
My inquiry for you this week is, ‘With what am I leading?’

Elizabeth creates and facilitates custom workshops for corporate, public and private groups.  She provides leadership and personal coaching for individuals and groups.  Contact Elizabeth to help you uncover your ‘Leading Value’.

Some of the ladies of The Cathedral Church of the Redeemer in downtown Calgary have laid a beautiful, hand knit, warm blanket of poppies upon it, marking the one hundredth anniversary of the end of WWI.  One of the parishioners had seen knitted poppies used in this way in a church in England and she thought it might be a project that could be taken on in Calgary.  The response to the project was overwhelming, both in its construction and in how it has been received.  Originally thinking that hundreds of poppies could be knitted by a group of women, the organizers have been overwhelmed to now have over 7000 poppies cascading down the walls of the church, knitted by people of all faiths, from many countries.

This kind and incredibly heart warming, generous gesture leaves me proud to be part of this community of Calgarians and it has me thinking about warm blankets of all sorts.  This is the time of year, the time when the first snow flurries fal,l that we dig out our warm blankets and put them on our beds, on the backs of our favourite chairs and even in our cars – just in case.  There is something about the idea of a warm blanket that lets us know we can make it through the tough winter season. 

I’ve also had a warm blanket kindly laid on me several times when I’ve had to have simple medical procedures completed.  There is something about this act of having a blanket laid on us, that allows us to feel safe, to feel like we will make it to the other side of the discomfort.

Recently, I’ve come to recognize that warm blankets come in all sorts of sizes and shapes.  They are not just the lovely red and black plaid ones we so often see advertised on magazine covers.

On Thursday night, I joined my dancing sisters for their regular Thursday night class.  Lest you are about to think I am breaking doctors’ orders for rest, I did not dance.  Having received the disappointing news last week that my air cast boot would continue to accompany me through the next four weeks, I decided I needed a pick me up in the form of watching a dance class and seeing the fantastic new steps my friends are learning.  Upon arrival I was warmly greeted and soon found myself catching up with ‘the girls’.  As the class was about to begin, one of our dancers, Barb, went to her purse and produced a sign for me to wear around my neck.  I was officially welcomed to the ‘Sideliners’ group.   This has become a loving label given to any of our dancers who have managed to sideline themselves.  Currently in the Thursday night group alone, the sideliners group is at an all time high of four!  This small act was such a wonderful way for each of us who is on the injured list, to continue to feel a part of a group and an activity we miss so very much.  It was as if Barb had gently laid a warm blanket on us, reassuring us that not only would we survive our injuries, but we were being cared for by a loving team.  What a gift!

A second blanket moment occurred at our house a week ago.  My very good friends, Coralie and Warren’s, son, and his wife are expecting their second child in less than a month.  At a time when this young couple should be setting up the crib again, sorting through baby clothes and thinking about names for their new addition, instead they have been regular visitors to the Tom Baker Cancer Centre where Brandon has undergone chemotherapy, after recovering from surgery in April.  Wanting to show them our support, we decided to host a Sprinkle for them; a party to celebrate not only the coming of the new baby but also to let Brandon and Savanah know that they have a whole village behind them as they travel this very tough road. 

Friends arrived with casseroles for their freezer, and diapers and gifts for the baby.  The afternoon was filled with friends reconnecting, and with new memories being made.  Many, many comments were made about how good it felt to be together in support.  Together we placed a warm blanket on this family; a blanket of support and encouragement.  A blanket that let them know they were cared for.  Incredibly, two days before the shower, at his appointment following nine weeks and three rounds of chemotherapy, Brandon’s doctor said the words everyone had prayed for but had been afraid to expect, “Right now, you are cancer free!’  It felt like a miracle.

I wish I could say I coined the phrase ‘warm blanket’.  I did not.  I read it in a beautiful article written about my brother-in-law, Greg, after the passing of his beloved dog Caleb.  In the article, Greg describes how his music community came together to support him.  Greg commented that, ‘This community really knows how to put a warm blanket on’.  I thought it was the most perfect way to capture the feeling of being loved in a time of need.  This article is incredibly moving and well worth the read. 

Since hearing the phrase, ‘put a warm blanket on’, I’ve been thinking about the many, many different ways we can put a blanket on one another as we go about our daily lives.  Not all blankets have to be king-sized.  Sometimes the smallest of blankets can do the trick.  I’m noticing and feeling gratitude for the blankets placed on me recently; blankets in the form of ‘sideliner’ signs, Jan coming over to play cribbage to help me pass the time, Rhonda stopping in for a visit and a ‘knitting lesson’ and Brenda taking me to see a new-to-me wool shop. I love my blanket in the form of Kaitlyn stopping in for little visits with Benjamin.

This weekend we observe Remembrance Day.  This year is especially poignant as we mark a century since the end of WWI.  I hope our veterans will feel the blankets we place on them as we walk among the crosses placed in the Field of Crosses on Memorial Drive in our city, as we stop to admire the knitted poppies draped over the beautiful walls of The Cathedral Church of the Redeemer, as we proudly wear a poppy on our lapel, as we donate to food banks and as we attend services and as we stop for our moment of silence and reflection at the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of this eleventh month.  Lest we forget.

My inquiry for you this week is, ‘Who needs my blanket?’

Elizabeth creates and facilitates custom workshops for corporate, public and private groups.  She provides leadership and personal coaching for individuals and groups.  Contact Elizabeth to help you figure out how to give and receive warm blankets.