Author: Parlay House

February 2021

Have you heard about throwing a frog into boiling water?

The story goes that the frog will immediately jump out of a boiling pot, but if you put it into cool water and slowly turn up the heat, it won’t notice and will boil to death.

That was me and my aching back.

Having had degenerative discs for over 20 years, I’m used to my back hurting. I can barely remember a day when it didn’t hurt. In fact, I have had three ablations, numerous epidurals, and daily stretching and strengthening to keep it in check.

Lately, when the proverbial heat got turned up and the pain got worse, I chalked it up to a preexisting condition, aging, and the stress of the moment.

I accepted increasing pain as something I just had to live with.

But after about six weeks of sciatic agony that reverberated down to my calves, I realized I was nearly at my own boiling point.

I had expected the MRI to show degeneration and stenosis. It did. But I hadn’t expected the MD to find a cyst filling with fluid and literally butting up against my spinal column and nerves. That explained the dramatic increase in pain.

Two days later, that cyst was drained.

When I woke up the morning after the procedure, I could have sworn I’d dropped 20 pounds or suddenly developed the ability to fly. I felt light and agile. I could breathe fully. I could walk or even jump around the room. And I did! It was a Benjamin Button moment.

But, these moments of relief are not ends in themselves. They are moments for context and new beginnings.

They mark the time for us to open doors to move forward again. They are moments to remind us about our greatest potential when we are operating at full steam.
Of course, in my rejuvenated state, I went out the next day and played better golf than I’ve played in years.

But, as you might guess, I’m not really talking about my back pain.

* * *

While watching the inauguration this week, I sensed a similar sense of relief and movement – but this time on a national level. I felt physically able to breathe again and was energized by the lessening of the pain that many of us have been feeling about our country’s internal strife and discord.

For me, the inauguration felt like a weight had been lifted and that we had regained a communal sense of pride. I sensed renewed energy, hope and potential to be reunited.

I realized that over the past few months, we had all become frogs in danger of being slowly cooked together.

These moments of context are windows to jump out of the pot and to make leaps beyond the boundaries established by yesterday’s suffering.

Yes. My back is still “disintegrating.” That hasn’t changed.

Yes. As a nation, we are still wounded, and those wounds will take some time to heal.

But the pain which felt ever-present over the past few months has been reduced a bit – just in these first few days. Many of us can now see the potential for a future that we had feared could never be reclaimed.

It feels like a moment to take great frog-leaps forward.

We’ll do it by using this renewed sense of possibility to treasure the moments of light, to take advantage of countless opportunities for connection, and to unleash the potential in each of us to change the things we care about most.

If we are all watching out for each other when moments of pain creep back in, we will know the warning signs, and be able to nurse the wounds for each other, and turn down the heat together.

We are our sister’s keeper.

In the wise words of Amanda Gorman:

There is always light,
If only we are willing to see it.
If only we are brave enough to be it.

* * *

How will you channel this new chapter?

Share it Small: Make a pledge to yourself to initiate good. Pledges and commitments keep us self-aware and checked-in. They are a perfect reminder of our personal commitment and our broad-reaching connection, and the potential of what each of us can accomplish when we focus on it.

Share it Big: Commit to making progress on a more public platform. Lead by example and tell people why you are doing it. Shut down divisiveness by giving it no place in your life. Help heal old wounds by taking responsibility for your piece. Speak up for people you don’t totally agree with and find common ground. Each step we take is one step closer to each other, and often the steps we take are replicated by those who are watching.

Share it with Me: We all learn from each other. If you have had a revelation, a break-through, an insight, or a triumph, we can learn from you so please tell me about it here! I’m collecting stories of these cascades of good for ongoing community building and to track The Parlay Effect in action. I would love nothing better than to hear how you lifted, were lifted, or observed something in others that made you feel good and recognize your own power.

January 2021

My sisters and I often talk about our childhood and how certain experiences shaped us to be who we are.

But when I recall the moments that were pivotal for me and how they influenced my view of myself or my world, Rachel and Suzy often don’t know what I’m talking about. They remember events very differently or maybe don’t remember them at all. That’s because they were my moments, not theirs.

Lately, these conversations have led me to wonder about how each of us will recall the past year. Not just how my sisters and I will remember it, but how we will remember it as a society.

Like most people, I crave clarity, agreement and a shared view of events. I’d love for us to have memories that allow us to connect through common experiences and allow us to plan for the next time we face monumental challenges.

But I’m worried we won’t find common ground because our memories and truths are shaped by many variables and are made even more complex because we subconsciously write and rewrite those experiences over time.

* * *

Scientists say that our brains update memories to make them more relevant and useful for us, even if the re-written story is not a true representation of the past. In fact, we rewrite our memories so many times that things that we would recall with complete clarity and conviction may never have never happened… or at least not in the way we remember.

We are not liars.

In fact, the subconscious re-writing of memories is a way we maintain our mental health. We do it by “imagery rescripting” or editing negative memories to create more meaningful or happy ones. Imagery rescripting helps us feel more in control and less despairing.

As long as our own recollections aren’t imposed on the healing memories that serve other people, why not use these natural coping mechanisms to self-soothe and move forward?

The key question though, is whether we really can self-soothe while also coming back together with others who don’t see the world as we do. We’re so fragmented right now.

My daughter Ciara is a therapist. She says that in her world there is a practice called, “Both, And”

“Both, And” is a way to validate your truth, someone else’s truth, and to agree that there is more. 

* * *

No one’s narrative and recollection of a story is necessarily truer than another, and the more we search for right and wrong, the less connected we become.

It’s the “AND” that keeps us together. 

In fact, we grow not because we share the same story, the same perspective, or the same goals, but because there IS more yet to come, and together we can create and find those connected experiences.

My aspiration for 2021, therefore, is for more ANDs. More mutual acceptance and more opportunity to craft experiences that we can share. More times that we chose to allow for our own truth and to allow for others’ truths too.

And, in the words of Mary Oliver:

Someone I loved
Once gave me
A box full of
Darkness

It took me years
To understand
That this, too,
Was a gift.

* * *

Do you have some experiences where finding an “and” was meaningful for you?

Share it Small: Tell someone who allowed space for your truth that the acceptance mattered. It sounds like a small thing but the positive feedback will encourage both of you to find more “ANDs” moving forward.

Share it Big: Help start an “AND movement” by being open and vocal about accepting others’ experiences and views as valid, even if you disagree. It’ll open up conversations AND so much more.

Share it with Me: We all learn from each other. If you have had a revelation, a break-through, an insight, or a triumph, we can learn from you so please tell me about it here! I’m collecting stories of these cascades of good for ongoing community building and to track The Parlay Effect in action. I would love nothing better than to hear how you lifted, were lifted, or observed something in others that made you feel good and recognize your own power.

December 2020

I have a Sunday morning ritual of taking a virtual stretch class. It’s not my most physically taxing workout, but when I take time to stretch the muscles that I build during the rest of the week it seems to make the hard days easier.

This past Sunday was no different, except that very early into the class, the instructor said that we were going to ‘integrate controlled breathing” into our practice.

I had just woken up from yet another sleepless night. I was feeling stressed out of my mind, sick of the constraints around me and on the verge of tears. And she was talking to me about… breathing?

I practically hyperventilated then and there. My breath seems to have become so shallow lately. Like a physical and emotional gasp for air.

* * *

A few minutes later, she asked us to take in a long breath through the nose, pause for four seconds, exhale for four seconds (again through the nose) and pause again. All of this while doing squats at a rotated angle from my perch on a foam roller.

Throughout the next hour, she had us integrate breathing into the physical work we were doing. And do you know what?

I realized that the focus on breathing was doing more for me than the physical portion of the class. How did she know that I had been spending months holding my breath?

As I inhaled slowly and exhaled fully, I was discovering the power of the pause. The simplicity of silence. The leverage that comes from letting go.

* * *

Since then, I’ve been thinking about other ways to extend that breathing – the self-awareness of burdens and anxieties I’ve internalized in other aspects of my life, and letting them go too.

Obviously, I’ve got to think about breathing more often. Because taking more conscious breaths for myself will also make me stronger in the things I do for others.

Specifically, I want to regain strength for the things I like most: appreciating, supporting, connecting and lifting other people. I feel like I have been falling short on doing those things lately, probably because I was short on oxygen myself.

So, let me start breathing again by saying this. If I haven’t been there for you in my usual way, I’m sorry.

It took me a while, but now I understand that before I can be there for you, I need to be there for me. I used to think that was selfish, and now I understand that self-care is crucial to building inner strength.

* * *

As we head into a new year, with a vaccine on the horizon and a rekindling of hope for the world, I’m making a resolution. I’m going to do a better job at self care. For me, it will start with breathing.

In Japan, people practice Shirin-yoku – the art of “forest-bathing” or immersing one’s self in nature in order to breathe and find their center. In Norway, they seek Friluftsliv, or “free air life” – another version of relaxing in nature. And in Turkey, there is a practice of Keyif, which doesn’t focus on the outdoors, but emphasizes quiet relaxation and living in the moment. While I can’t travel the globe to try those techniques directly, I’m going to go there in my mind.

I also know that there are so many ways to breathe starting at home. I’ve been living in Hawaii for the bulk of the past 9 months, and here, they practice Ho’oponopono.

Ho’oponopono is a Hawaiian healing technique that literally means “I’m sorry. Please forgive me. Thank you. I love you.” It’s about the idea of being doubly right. Being right with yourself and being right with others.

Ho’oponopono feels like the perfect way to enter into a new year, beginning with self-care and self-forgiveness. I have no doubt it will blossom into opportunities to become more external in our focus and to reclaim opportunities to see, feel and lift each other.

Let’s start now.

Before you forward this email to someone else who might need to breathe, take a minute for yourself.

Inhale deeply.

Exhale fully.

Inhale again, even more slowly.

Exhale again, loudly and completely.

It’s time to begin again.

* * *

Share it Small: My guess is that most of us have been forgetting to breathe or feeling too tired to care for ourselves at the level we need. Let’s change that. Take five minutes to breathe at least three times a day. Inhale the thoughts of what you’d like more of in your life. Exhale and release the “shoulds” and “didn’ts” and “musts” that make you feel bad.

Share it Big: Are there other people you care about who may be struggling to breathe too? Please forward this email to them and maybe even offer to breathe with them via phone or with synchronized watches. It’ll be a great way to practice self-care with a friend.

Share it with Me: We all learn from each other. If you have had a revelation, a break-through, an insight, or a triumph, we can learn from you so please tell me about it here! I’m collecting stories of these cascades of good for ongoing community building and to track The Parlay Effect in action. I would love nothing better than to hear how you lifted, were lifted, or observed something in others that made you feel good and recognize your own power.

November 2020

I’ve been avoiding the things that scare me. 

Living on Kauai for the majority of the coronavirus epidemic, I’ve been in an isolated safe place with barely a sign of disease. I’ve steered clear of most of the media hype, and aside from activist initiatives, voting and supporting causes I believe in, I’ve not been sucked into the spinning media vortex. I haven’t felt “safe” but I’ve certainly felt safer, and know how lucky I am to be in that position.

But the other night, as the full blue moon was soon to rise on Halloween eve in the throes of Mercury Retrograde, I couldn’t hide from a new series of events that caused me to freak out.

On my afternoon beach walk, I ran smack into a glassy-eyed hippie holding a hand-made fishing pole with a large squirming eel dangling on the line. He had pulled it out of the waters where I often swim. The eel’s mouth opened and shut like one of Ursula the Sea Witch’s henchmen as the creature writhed. I quickly reversed course and fled back home, questioning whether I’d even have the courage to swim again.

That evening, with the sky eerily lit by the full moon over the Pacific, I left family movie night in the living room to use the bathroom. Sitting with my bathing suit around my ankles, a large roof rat lept from behind the garbage can and ran across my feet to the other side of the little bathroom. I shut the toilet, jumped on top, and like one of the scenes from a ‘50’s movie, screamed for help. No one heard me because they all had Jurassic Park blasting on the TV. Finally, I hopped off the can, shot out of the bathroom and slammed the door behind me, my heart pounding in my chest. 

David promised to get up first thing in the morning and put a trap in the bathroom. After 20 minutes of tossing and turning in bed, I drifted off to sleep.

I woke to find that someone had accidentally opened the door to the bathroom and the rat was gone –obviously somewhere else in the house. I had no choice but to grab the vacuum, clean up the droppings, and hope that the rodent had found its way back outside. But before I got to the poop, I first had to suck up one of the large and gushy stinging centipedes that inhabit the island (and sometimes our home). Those things are creepy too. 

I eased the vacuum into the bathroom, making sure I cleaned everything in view. Just as the vacuum head hit the corner area by the garbage can, the rat leapt out of the trash and ran straight at me again. I barely had time to step back and slam the door again.

I needed to calm the fuck down.

So I went downstairs to log into a pilates class with my dear friend Elizabeth Larkam. She has a calm voice and a wry sense of humor. I knew she would help me recover my center. But the minute I stepped into the room to unfurl my mat, a huge palm-sized spider was waiting on the floor between me and my session. I had no choice but to use my trusty yoga block to usher that furry six-legged visitor to another life.

Hopefully you are laughing along with me here. I don’t usually get bothered by things like this.   

*  *  * 

Most of us are on edge in some way. 

Despite the fact that we wear masks and distance and sanitize, there is so much that is unexpected and that we haven’t faced before, and so many eye-opening realities that we have been avoiding for so long. 

My usual coping mechanism is to put things in perspective. To compartmentalize. But the stress is so overwhelming that I’m not doing too well. Long-term optimism (“this too shall pass”) feels like an elusive hope with the virus spiking, social dilemmas that remain unresolved, and the prospect of an unresolved election. 

So as we ease into this very non-traditional version of Thanksgiving, I’m reframing my avoidance into gratitude:

My parents were here visiting me and despite being well into their 80’s, they are still sharp, curious and active. Our kids are not only safe, but making smart decisions, thriving as adults, and lovingly checking in with us. I have dear friends who I can’t visit in person, but who are a Zoom-call, a phone call or a text away. Their voices and messages get me through. I share Parlay House not only with the best business partner I could imagine, but with 7,000 connected women who lift each other and share their full selves. I have a partner who loves me so much that he’ll get up early and successfully trap my rat.

So as you enter into this next season, where so much will change and so much will remain the same, I suggest that when you feel the need for grounding, that the people you love and the families you have make you feel a little less afraid. Because even in this swirling, turbulent time, we are in it together and stronger when we can share (and laugh through) this crazy moment in our shared history.

Now about that wasp in our living room… 

*  *  * 

Do you have secrets for finding joy or humor in the chaos?

Share it Small: Pass along your recipe for laughter to someone who needs it most. I found that telling my friends about my Halloween filled with nature’s “monsters” made us both laugh. That was good medicine. Also, come up with a self-care plan because sometimes laughing isn’t enough.

Share it Big: Did you have a funny disaster? Post it. Shout it. Put it on a t-shirt. Find a way to let strangers know that crazy stuff is happening for you too, and that you’re laughing through it even when your heart is pounding. Elaine Jones, one of my dear friends and role models says, “We have too much privilege to feel discouraged.” So I’m going to laugh my way through it and take action when I can.

Share it with Me: We all learn from each other. If you have had a revelation, a break-through, an insight, or a triumph, we can learn from you so please tell me about it here! I’m collecting stories of these cascades of good for ongoing community building and to track The Parlay Effect in action. I would love nothing better than to hear how you lifted, were lifted, or observed something in others that made you feel good and recognize your own power. 

 

October 2020

I’m going to say something that might rustle your feathers. 

We’ve got to be careful about the pedestal we’re placing under Ruth Bader Ginsburg. 

I know that sounds sacrilegious but let me tell you what I mean.

I admire RBG. She was a true agent of change, an advocate for women’s rights, and a real fighter who helped move women a step closer towards the equality we deserve. There’s no denying those amazing accomplishments and I’d be the first to agree that women across the nation have all benefited from her activism and action. 

But I worry about elevating people we admire from human to divine. For many of us who can make human-scale change, our efforts will likely feel small and potentially irrelevant when compared with someone who holds a near-godly stature. 

*  *  * 

Hero-worship can motivate, but it also can also cause paralyzing detachment

Remembering that Justice Ginsburg was human and thus imperfect is crucial. While she was an advocate for female equality, she only had one black clerk during her entire tenure on the Supreme Court. I call this out, not to disparage the crucial work she did, but because understanding her humanity gives all of us who are our own toughest critics permission to try to make the change we wish to see, and to know that we can make progress even if we do it imperfectly.

I’ve made the mistake of placing people on pedestals before, and when I did so, I lost my own voice in the process. I remember going to an event where Stacey Abrams was the speaker to a very small group of us. If I’d seen her as another strong woman rather than as someone I idolized, I might have been able to connect with her through a real conversation. But when I got close to her, I literally froze. My brain shut down, my heart sped up and I missed the opportunity to learn and to share my mission and advocacy. My inner voice was saying, “she is so smart, so brave, and so relentless, anything I’ll say will seem light and uninformed.” I blushed, shook her hand and fled the event.

I was so disappointed in myself, feeling like I missed a chance, and I was embarrassed that I felt I didn’t have anything meaningful to say. I’ve replayed that missed moment over and over in my head to try to figure out what I’d say if I got a second chance.  

*  *  * 

Instead of idolizing each other, let’s humanize each other.

At a recent Parlay from Away event, Kim Newton, a transformational leader took us through her process of transitioning her huge corporate career into the next chapter as an artist and entrepreneur. Kim’s strategy for figuring out the next steps in her own journey began with compiling a list of the people she admired and reaching out to them to hear their advice and wisdom. One of those people was Carla Harris, Vice Chairman at Morgan Stanley and arguably one of the most successful women in finance. 

Kim had the courage to reach out to this accomplished stranger because she viewed her not as an idol, but as someone she could learn from. And while Carla didn’t know Kim, she responded immediately to Kim’s email inquiry, and the 30 minutes they spent together had a profound impact on Kim’s future trajectory. That discussion would never have happened if Kim had placed Carla on an untouchable pedestal that blocked their ability to relate on a human level. 

*  *  * 

From “What can I get from you?” to “What can I learn from you?”.

When I replay that Stacey Abrams moment in my head, I’ve decided that if I feel I have nothing meaningful to say, I’m going to follow Kim’s advice and use that moment as a time to learn. Asking a question is another way to begin a dialogue between humans, and the truth is that we can all learn from each other. Since we each have things to teach and each have things to learn, it doesn’t matter who starts by speaking and who starts by listening as long as we exchange with each other on a human level.

When I look back on the incredible legacy of RBG, I honor her. Not as an icon, but as a fellow traveler whose path blazed the way for many of us to follow, and whose example opened the possibility that each of us has the ability to leave our own gorgeous footprints for the next generation. 

*  *  * 

Have you learned from someone unexpected?

Share it Small: If you benefited directly or indirectly from someone else’s wisdom, regardless of their “status,” drop them a note and let them know! If there is someone you admire greatly, instead of placing them on a pedestal, drop them a note. Who knows what kind of human-scale exchange may get sparked? 

Share it Big: Let’s start a movement to reduce the emphasis on fame and our expectations of perfection. It’s when seeing each other in our humanity that we can truly break down barriers. How about taking a few minutes each day to be open to those around you about your aspirations (they may be able to give you a boost) and your imperfections (it’ll make you much more approachable and give others a way to relate to your humanity).  Start to write down or journal a list of people you admire so you can remember to find a way to connect to them and share your perspective.

Share it with Me: We all learn from each other. If you have had a revelation, a break-through, an insight, or a triumph, we can learn from you so please tell me about it here! I’m collecting stories of these cascades of good for ongoing community building and to track The Parlay Effect in action. I would love nothing better than to hear how you lifted, were lifted, or observed something in others that made you feel good and recognize your own power.