Tara Mohr's Blog, page 9

Courage

Courage

 

It wasn’t against the stone

or with the morning

that it rose.

 

It wasn’t in the night

or from the breakers

that it came to me.

 

It wasn’t whistling in a nest

or hiding in the breeze.

None of that.

 

It was a dark coal

that had grown silent

and one day, came to light.

 

Why did the coal alight?

 

Perhaps from pain, because pain

climbs until it snaps —

 

Perhaps because someone listened,

and listened wholly —

 

Perhaps because a flashing spark

flew in and whispered the truth

at your neck, as sparks often do.

 

How else could courage come?

 

Courage born of love, not bravery

 

Courage: making the canal wide with love

when life would squeeze it thin.

 

Courage only as wide as love.

– Tara Mohr

 

photo credit: Roberta Sorge

The Inner Whistling

The Inner Whistling

 

They forgot to tell me too

 

that there was always this whistle,

this reed, making quiet music.

 

It moved like a woman

making her way

through a crowd

like a ship tacking

this way and that

on the sea.

 

It was the beginning of me

and the very me of me

and I became a stranger to it.

 

But when the mountain came tumbling down,

I knelt at a window and wept.

A small bird, blue like skylight

offered me milk and cookies

and sang into my weeping.

 

Then I fell into the hammock of the ancient moon

and a book began to write itself.

The pen was my keeper

and the page was my face

and the craft was yours, my god.

 

Dreamkeeper, Sleepweaver, Elegance of all:

I kneel to you. I sew your skin.

I wait at the road for your arrivals.

I return. I return. I return. 

– Tara Mohr

 

photo credit: Annie Spratt

an essential ingredient for making a life change

This week my four year-old son said goodbye to the first teachers he ever had, two of the first adults outside our family and home who meant something deep and real to him.

Now, he moves on to a new classroom, new teachers, a new school year.

Remember that 1980’s bestseller, “Everything I Need to Know, I Learned in Kindergarten?” Well, I don’t have to wait till my son’s kindergarten to learn the important life lessons – I’m getting plenty of them from his preschool.

​​​​​​As the last day of school drew near, the children worked together on a poster. Each child shared how they were feeling about the transition – happy, sad, or both – both happy and sad.

The teachers spoke a lot about this idea of feeling both happy and sad about a change. They illustrated it in all kinds of ways:

They used their hands to push half of their mouths down into a frown while the other half grinned.

They drew smiley and sad faces right next to each other on the page.

They listed out the things that excited them about the new year, and then, in the next column, listed the things that made them sad about leaving this chapter behind.

Again and again, the teachers named it so explicitly: that we can feel opposite emotions without those feelings “conflicting” in any way. Neither has to win out. They can just live side by side.

One day when I was in the classroom, I watched my son’s teacher put her hand on her heart and talk with ease about feeling both sad and happy about the class moving on. And I wondered about the things in my life I might have done differently, the doors I would have walked through, if I had really known it was okay to feel both eager for and sad about a change, and to then walk through that door to the other side.

Too often, we don’t pursue the healthy changes​​​​​​​, the leaps, that would bring sadness intertwined with happiness, or fear intertwined with excitement.

​​​​​​​Too​​​​​​​ often, we try to talk kids (and adults) out of their legitimate sadness by reminding them of the good stuff. There’s a fine line between encouraging positivity and gratitude and squashing sadness that needs room to be.

In developmental psychology, the ability to hold mixed emotions is seen as a key milestone of maturation.

​​​​​

Can a person do courageous things without being at home with mixed emotions? I don’t think so.

Can a woman find equanimity in the midst of a complex, layered life if she isn’t at home with mixed emotions? I can’t see how.

Can she move and grow, can she be a part of the flow of change that is life, without comfort with mixed emotions? No.

So I pass on this idea from my sweet boy’s teachers today: that we really can feel a whole mix of things, and that we usually do, in times of change. And we can make change anyway.

How can you say yes to the changes that you know will pull you forward but that also bring some grief or sadness with them?

How can you discern between the sadness that says, “stop, don’t make this change” and the sadness that is simply to be felt and moved through?

How can you hold more space for yourself to have mixed emotions, in big and small ways, beginning today?

​​​​​​​

With love,

Tara

P.S. If you are a reader here, and you’ve not yet had the chance to check out my book, Playing Big, it’s a great way to get going on realizing your playing bigger dream. You can find all the links to get your copy here.

Mindfulness + Work with Dr. Leah Weiss

As I’ve shared, I recently read the fantastic new book, How We Work, by Dr. Leah Weiss. Leah’s background is fascinating. She’s a licensed social worker, has a PhD in Theology and Education, has trained extensively in mindfulness and now teaches a pioneering course at Stanford Business School called Mindful Leadership.

Here’s what the Dalai Lama (yes, the Dalai Lama) had to say about this book:

I have long thought that what the Buddha taught can be seen as a highly developed science of mind which, if made more accessible to a lay audience, could benefit many people. I believe that Dr. Weiss’s book, in combining such insights with science and good business practice, offers an effective mindfulness based program that many will find helpful.”   – His Holiness, the Dalai Lama

 

Next week, I’ll be interviewing Dr. Weiss about the book on Facebook Live, and you are all invited to join.

I hope you’ll come to learn from her along with me, to delve into topics around meaning, leadership, mindfulness and wellbeing, and to ask your questions and participate in the discussion.

Today, I want to share three powerful ideas from the book:

 

 

Mindfulness integrated into life.

Leah writes, “I actually had plenty of time to practice [mindfulness], I realized, because practice wasn’t something I had to take time out of working or mothering or living to do. In fact, working, mothering, and living — life — were all opportunities for practice. There is a saying in the Mahayana tradition of Buddhism: ‘Take all of life onto the path.’ Freed from the confines of the cushion, meditation could include all of life.”

I especially loved her articulation of this piece of wisdom: “The back-to-back demands and busy-ness of our days do not stand in the way of our purpose in the world; they represent a chance to realize it.”

In our conversation, we’ll talk more about how to do this — the practical ways we can bring mindfulness into our lives moment to moment. For today, find a moment to pause, and simply bring mindfulness to the situation: What am I feeling right now? What sensations do I notice in my body? What emotions am I experiencing? With awareness, we have a space to self-reflect, to question our assumptions, or to take action to redirect our attention to where we desire it to be.

 

 

We’ve got to feel our feelings, not try to bypass them.

She writes, “The research consensus is that fighting against our feelings only makes them stronger… The ability to tolerate or accept or get curious about our unpleasant emotions is the ticket out of this cycle.”

It’s not easy of course, because we all have an instinct to avoid feeling difficult emotions (and we often make a habit out of it!). In our conversation, we will talk about what that looks like in the moment — how can we be mindful of what emotions we are experiencing (even subtly) and then what do we do next once we are aware of them? For today, can you greet a difficult emotion with simple awareness — noting to yourself the sadness, anger, frustration or other feeling present?

 

 

Finding purpose in our work.

As you can imagine, I loved the section of the book on the importance of living and working with purpose. Leah writes, “Purpose boosts our capacity to make the greatest impact in the work we do, and to connect with other people across cultures and contexts, however powerless or lonely we might feel. We are energized, motivated, and expanded by a sense of purpose.”

She invokes a metaphor for staying connecting to purpose that I loved: in a jigsaw puzzle, there are all the pieces, and then there is that picture of the whole puzzle put together that is often on the cover of the box. How often do we remember that big picture, the whole of what we are working toward or trying to put together with all these little pieces?

In our conversation, we will talk about strategies for staying rooted in your purpose as you move through the mundane, frantic, or stressful moments of the everyday. For today, bring back a sense of that picture of the whole puzzle on the cover of the box — what’s the vision you are working toward? How does having a sense of it change how you move through today?

 

Mark your calendars for this conversation — we’d love for you to join us! We’ll be meeting up on Leah’s Facebook page here on Monday (April 30) at 10:30 am Pacific.

 

In the meantime, you can get your copy of How We Work: Live Your Purpose, Reclaim Your Sanity, and Embrace the Daily Grind here.

With love,

Tara

“the detours”

This was one of the things Jadah Sellner and I talked about in our recent conversation for her podcast, Lead with Love.

I’ve come to believe that straying from our soul’s path is simply a part of the human experience. I have never met a person who did not fail in their allegiance to their truth, who did not veer away from what gave them joy.

There is something very core to the learning we are supposed to gain here that has to do with getting lost and then finding our way, veering off our paths and then turning back.

Through that contrast we can see who we are, and what we truly want to claim. We are meant to be lost and found. We are meant to take detours but then return to our road.

So today, recognize the value of the detours you’ve taken or the one you are in right now.

And if you don’t know Jadah yet, or you’d like to hear our conversation, check out her work and our episode here.

Love,

Tara

taking reflection time

 

In Dr. Leah Weiss’s fabulous new book, How We Work, she shares a fascinating study about the power of reflecting on our work. 

In the study, conducted by Harvard Business School professor Francesca Gino, three groups of IT workers underwent a 16 day job training. 

One group of individuals simply took the training. 

The second group took the training and, for 15 minutes at the end of each day, wrote about and reflected upon what they learned that day. 

The third group did this reflection writing and also spent five minutes sharing their writings and insights with another employee. 

At the end of the training, those who reflected performed 22.8% better on a final test than the control group did. Those who reflected and shared with another person performed 25% better on the test. 

It’s powerful to see the data so clearly, isn’t it? What a fabulous reminder that reflecting on our experiences and articulating aloud what we’ve learned dramatically impacts how much we are learning from our experiences.

•  Do you currently have time and space built in for reflection on what you are learning? Even if you aren’t in formal training like those in this particular study, every day you are learning from the successes, failures, challenges, conversations, and feedback that you encountered that day. What was the learning from that day’s success? From its challenge? From a conversation with a client or colleague? Can you build in a few minutes daily, or weekly, to reflect on this in writing or aloud?

•  Who in your life can you share your learnings with? Can you build time into team conversations or 1:1 meetings for sharing reflections on what is being learned? Or, is there a support person in your life like a coach whom you could have this kind of conversation with? A peer mentoring partner? 

​​​​​​​

•  What about applying this principle in your personal life? In some sense we are all in an educational training program every day – life. The curriculum is really something, isn’t it? Can you make space to journal about what you are learning about yourself, about others, about life, from the day’s or week’s experiences? 

I’m thrilled that I’ll be talking in-depth with Dr. Leah Weiss, author of How We Work, about this topic​ of reflection at work and other key topics for productivity and meaning at work – from purpose to mindfulness and more. Dr. Weiss teaches the Leading with Mindfulness and Compassion course at Stanford Business School, and has a fascinating hybrid background in social work, Buddhist meditation, theology and education.

About her new book, The New York Times Book Review says, “Weiss’s approach to greater satisfaction and success at work is steeped in evidence-based science. And it’s not just philosophical; there’s plenty of practical advice.”

Stay tuned for details on our upcoming conversation, and in the meantime, get the book here.

Love,

Tara

if your calling doesn’t pay the bills

 

Yes, it can be a tremendous blessing in our lives to do work full-time that feels like a calling.

But I’ve also never met a calling that cared whether or not it was the way the bills got paid. And over the past ten years I’ve talked to many, many people about their longings, their callings, their dreams.

The callings that come to us want to be respected, not ignored or rationalized away. And they want us to give them expression in some way – but often small ways and small hours are plenty – plenty for giving us huge joy and fulfillment, and for bringing good into the world.

Whatever it is for you – that form of making art that is calling to you, that way of working with people, that project you’d love to do – just give it some air, some time, some of your allegiance and energy. That’s all it needs.

xo

Tara

If you wish you had more self-discipline

You can listen to this post in audio, too. Click the player to download an mp3 file.



 

Where we think we need more self-discipline, we usually need more self-love.

Several weeks ago, I noticed that those words from the Playing Big book were being shared widely on social media, with people taking the time to format them and give them their own visual expression.

Everywhere they were posted, they seemed to resonate strongly with readers, and that has intrigued me. So I thought today I’d delve deeper into this topic. What do these words really mean? What do they ask us to do differently? And what about this idea are we so hungry for and why?

We tend to think we need more self-discipline when we aren’t taking consistent action toward our goals: we want to exercise regularly but we aren’t; we aim to meditate every evening but we haven’t been consistent; we committed to track our money more closely, but fell off the wagon.

Then we tend to say to ourselves, in some version: “If I could only be more self-disciplined…” That’s our story about the situation, that we lack willpower or discipline.

Yet I will tell you after a lot of coaching conversations that self-discipline is never the missing ingredient in these situations.

What is needed is not more self-discipline or will, but one of these three things:

1. Practical adjustments to routines, schedules, support systems. I think of one woman who believed she just didn’t have the self-discipline to get up early every day. With some self-reflection, she discovered that she really just needed to reduce her commitments so she could go to bed a few hours earlier. Then the new wake-up time became no problem. Or, I think of another woman who thought she lacked the self-discipline to save money, but you know what? She had no problem doing so once she put a monthly transfer on automation. Where we think we need more self-discipline, we need more self-love. Sometimes that self-love expresses itself through the very practical routines, supplies, support systems we put in place to get us where we want to go.

2. Inner work. Other times, when we assume that we lack self-discipline, our flow of motivation is actually getting blocked by fear. I think of one woman who had come to feel she wasn’t publishing on her blog regularly because she lacked the self-discipline. But within a few minutes of coaching around the topic, it became clear that the core issue was fear of what people would think when she shared her ideas more publicly.

Fear is tricky, and subtle, and we put lots of fancy explanations on top of it that can hide it. When our motivation suddenly dips or we find ourselves behaving in ways we label “lazy,” quite often underneath we find fear – especially fear of change, failure, or (for women in particular) fear of separating from others in our life as we step into new ways of being.

In these situations, we do not need more self-discipline (and no amount of self-discipline could get us to ramrod past our fear! Fear will always win out if it’s unexamined or unconscious.) What we need is self-love, manifest through gentle, self-compassionate inquiry into what’s getting stirred up. That can happen through journaling, sharing out loud to a supportive group or friend, processing fear through making art, or through a session with a therapist or coach.

3. Changing the goal. Sometimes the problem is that we’ve given ourselves what I call a “should-goal” – an aim that comes from a sense of should, often drawn from others’ expectations, or your own inner critic’s marching orders. In my own life, I’ve set “should-goals” about going to the gym, “networking” with people in my field, posting regularly on social media, to name a few. None of these things had particular resonance in my heart or soul, and because they were “shoulds” I couldn’t keep up motivation around them. Here, the issue for us is not really a lack of self-discipline, but rather that we are working toward the wrong goal – one we are never going to have a wellspring of energy toward.

We’ve got to set what I call gift-goals, goals that are resonant with our values, our temperaments – goals that feel like gifts to give ourselves. (There’s much more on how to do that in the Playing Big book). In my case, I had to find alternative versions of my “should-goals” that were more true to me – for example, getting to dance class (not the gym) and connecting with a few people I truly admire in my field (not doing a lot of networking).

So, if you are struggling with motivation or consistent action in any area of your life, I’d look at these three areas:

1) Is this a should-goal or a gift-goal? If it’s a should, start by shifting the goal into one that is more resonant for you. (Check out our handout on creating gift-goals, here).

2) If it’s a gift-goal, is there a fear blocking your motivation? How can you feel it, unpack it, move through it – all with loving-kindness toward yourself?

3) Or, do you simply need to change the practical pieces – the time you’ve made available, the level of support you’ve put in place – to make it easier for you to take the action you want to take?

Last but not least, I think we have to pay attention to the resonance of this idea. The spread of these words across the web tells me that many of us recognize that something about our stories regarding self-discipline has lead us astray, and is false. Some part of tus knows that there is possibility in bringing self-love to those very places. If you work with people – as a coach, facilitator, counselor – how can you bring more of this idea forward? If you are a friend, a parent, a partner in conversation with others about their goals, how can you bring more of this idea to those conversations?

Want to set gift-goals or work with others on setting theirs? Grab my PDF on creating gift-goals here, with journaling prompts and coaching questions to help you do just that.

With love,

Tara

making time for what you love to do

A few weeks ago, I headed into the dance studio for a class for the first time since my daughter was born.

It took a lot to get to a class.

It took all these months for me to feel up for it.

It took being willing to give it a big chunk of time on the calendar.

It took figuring out what the heck kind of bra works for leaping through the air, for a postpartum nursing mother.

But mostly, of course, it took what it takes for all of us when it is time to be a beginner again: courage. It took being willing to experiment with a new class, having no idea how I’d fare, or what uncomfortable moments might be part of it.

I walked in, and immediately saw all the dancers doing what looked like very serious pre-class stretches. I watched myself choose not to be intimidated by that. There were moments of the class when a younger me would have felt embarrassed about what I couldn’t do, moments when a younger me would have been panicked about what I was being asked to attempt – in front of the rest of the group, no less. There were many moments when a younger me would have been critical, even ashamed, of the body reflected back to me in the mirror.

But this experience (mostly) wasn’t like that. Maybe because of being a little older, maybe because having walked through the fires of motherhood x2, this was different.

This time, I could comprehend that I was simply a newbie in this class; nothing personal about that. I was able to chuckle at myself when needed and – most importantly – I was able to enjoy.

Ninety minutes later, when the class ended, I was not on cloud nine. I was on cloud ninety-nine.

I had to keep apologizing to people for talking so much, and so fast, all afternoon, but I couldn’t stop myself – there was so much energy coursing through.

My best friend called to tell me that the contrast between the tone of my voicemail to her that morning (heavy, somber) and the one from three hours later post dance class (utterly giddy) had her amused for the rest of the day.

Why am I sharing this story with you?



Because we all have these things: the earthly pursuits that are our special connection lines to vitality and joy.

Maybe one of yours, like mine, is dance, but most likely it is not because Life/God/Source has generously distributed these pursuits among us, a part of our individuality.

Some source whispered “dance” over me and pressed it into my soul before I was born. And to you, perhaps some divinity whispered “paint” or “sing” or “run” – whatever those sacred pursuits are for you.

Today, I want to invite you to remember. What are your special connection lines to vitality and joy? Growing something in your garden? Playing the piano? Taking a solo hike? Name at least two for yourself. Remember.

1. _________________

2. _________________

Now, here’s the thing: you’d think, given all I just shared, that I would be committed to regular dancing. At times, I have been. But sometimes, I’ve gone months without dancing. Sometimes, years.

We do this – we starve ourselves from the pursuits that we most love and that best love us back.

It appears to make no sense: if these activities bring us so much joy, why aren’t we doing them with fervor and commitment, arranging life to squeeze them in however we can? In fact, the opposite is what usually transpires. We struggle to do them at all.

We take long fasts from what most feeds us. Why?

These are some of the reasons why I’ve turned away from my dearest loves in my own life, reasons I also see at play in the lives of the women I work with.

1. It takes practical commitment and creativity to make it happen. In the demands of daily life, what we most love often falls to the wayside, as we focus on paying the bills and caring for others. You may be in a culture like the U.S.’s that does not make it easy to fit in time for pursuits outside of work and family responsibilities. Long work hours, having weak community ties and living apart from extended family all add up to incredibly demanding schedules for so many of us. It’s hard to make it happen.



2. We lose touch. Something happens in our life that causes us to stop doing the things we love (we get busier, we change locations, we go through an illness or intense period of caregiving, and so on) and during it, we forget what brings us bliss.

3. We buy the lie that adulthood is about something else. We’ve consciously or unconsciously decided adulthood is about something else – responsibilities and the grind. We forget to even ask, what can I do that brings me bliss? We forget that daily life can include that question, and its answer.

4. Fear and the inner critic build a barrier between ourselves and what we love. Sometimes we’ve become paralyzed by the message that because we love this thing so much we should get “good” at it. We start to think that being “good at it,” (winning first place prize at the piano recital, getting published, doing x in a way that people will pay for) is the point. Then if we aren’t winning the medals or the clients or the applause (or fear we won’t in the future), we stop doing our thing. I am here to tell you the point was never to be good. This, your relationship with this thing, is the great romance of your life.

5. Numbness is kinda cozy. There resides in us a force that doesn’t want us to do the things that bring us alive. When we do those things that bring us alive, we feel more – all of it, the good and the bad. Old unresolved issues ask for attention. Inconvenient life and career dreams that we’ve ignored find a way back in to our consciousness, through all those energy channels that this beloved pursuit has opened up. Rising to the occasion of this uncertain, tender, complicated human experience is both far more ecstatic and far less comfortable than the numbed out, dulled down zone of stasis and soul denial. The part of us that likes comfort (but doesn’t care about joy) will lead us to fast from soul nutrients and eat the low quality junk food of distractions and busyness and empty to-do’s instead. We cannot consistently practice what we love without a larger willingness to feel our feelings, confront our real path, and accept the ongoing change and evolution that that path will bring in our lives.

6. Ego likes its shell. When we are truly doing what we most love, the experience brings us into a sense of unity with the materials we are working with, the task we are engaged in, the others around us, and the larger whole. We start to transcend the boundaries of the ego, the small self, in exchange for a larger sense of connection. Ego doesn’t like that, and we resist that change. (I’ve written more about that here.)

So what is next? Start with these steps:

1. Remember what you most love, those few most special pursuits that bring you alive. Name what they are, just to yourself.

2. It may be that you need to cry or grieve a little for the time lost in not doing them. Allow yourself to feel those feelings … and at the same time, don’t get stuck there.

3. Notice what has been a barrier to you practicing your love. Is it primarily about the inner critic for you? Or the logistical challenges? Or are there stronger drives pushing you to stay in a numbed out state? Look with compassion at what has stood in the way.

4. Put a date on the calendar to do the thing you love. Tell one supportive person about it so you are held (lovingly) accountable to make it happen!

And last but not least, if you are wanting to live a life you love, and do work that fills you with a sense of meaning and joy, check out my Playing Big Course, open for registration this week (we open registration just once a year!) You can find all the information about it, hear from grads, and get your spot HERE.

Love,

Tara

what I mean by “playing big”

 

What is playing big?

 

I often hear from women that when they hear the words “playing big,” they have a kind of mixed reaction.

On the one hand, the idea of playing bigger calls to them.

They don’t want to keep having that subtle, sneaking sense that they are playing small – holding back, hiding, waiting on what they most want to do. They want to have a greater impact for good. They want to feel free, comfortable in their skin – no longer hesitant in sharing their ideas, their creations.

On the other hand, “playing big” gives them pause. They know their plate is full (or overfull) already. Is this just going to be one more item on their to-do list? And do we all really need to play big, they ask. Isn’t that yet more macho, egotistical thinking?

Of course, all of these questions are valid.

Let me tell you what “playing big” means in the work I do.

 

My shorthand definition of playing big is this: Playing big is being more loyal to your dreams than to your fears.

 

I believe our dreams are important – extremely important. I believe that they tell us about the life our authentic selves want to lead. They tell us about our purpose here. They tell us about what kind of life and career will bring each of us a sense of fulfillment.

And yet, for all of us human beings, life poses so many challenges in honoring our dreams. Fear and self-doubt rage like storms within us, especially when it comes to our most important dreams and callings! We find brilliant ways to hide or rationalize why we need to hold off for a bit. On top of inner challenges, we may face bias and stereotyping. And we are rightly concerned with practical matters – financial constraints, health challenges, caregiving responsibilities – and it’s usually not clear how to boldly go for our aspirations in the midst of them.

Playing Big is about navigating all those inner and outer challenges so that you can indeed live a life and pursue a career that is aligned with your dreams, your callings, what holds meaning for you.

 

Playing big is always determined from the inside out. It is highly individual to each person, and it is about you going for your authentic dreams.

 

Only you can discern what playing big looks like for you. It might involve doing something that looks prestigious and impressive in the world’s eyes, but just as often for women I work with, playing big means doing something that doesn’t look “big” to others – like stepping away from a conventional job to a more entrepreneurial one, or reclaiming a long-lost creative passion, or starting a project for the good of their local community. They know, on the inside, that this is what true playing big looks like for them.

Playing big is also never exhausting. It is not about striving, working harder, doing more. It is not about pressuring yourself.

Playing big is about releasing the pressure on yourself, opening up to your authentic longings and finding gentle, sustainable ways to live them out.

The truth is that playing small is what drains us, putting us in a tug of war with our own desires. Playing big is energizing – it’s about letting ideas, creativity and action flow naturally in your life and work.

What is one small step you can take today to play bigger in the ways that matter most to you? Having a difficult conversation you’ve been putting on hold? Admitting to yourself what you really want? Testing out a new idea with the people you want to serve? Sending that scary-thrilling-stretch email to a potential collaborator, client, or employer? 

Registration for the 2018 Playing Big Program is now open. We would love to have you join us! Learn more about this unique experience and dynamic community, and get your spot here.

Love,

Tara