Author: Parlay House

December 2021

Close your eyes for a minute.

Imagine yourself in the center of a stadium filled with screaming sports fans who are there to watch you try to set a new world record for the long jump. Your heart is thumping and it’s nearly impossible to hear above the din. You accelerate in sixteen steps down the runway and on the final step you leap as far as you can into the pit of sand that awaits.

How far did you fly? Did you hit the sand or run straight into a cement wall?

Keep your eyes closed.

This is the experience of Lex Gillette, a multiple-time world record holder and Olympic medalist in the Paralympics. I had the pleasure of interviewing him for our Bring a Friend Podcast last week, and it got me thinking, not only about collaboration and friendship but about trust.

Lex is blind. With the help of his sighted partner Wesley Williams who carefully positions him at the starting line and calls out his steps, he has reached the pinnacle of his sport. He gets there with hard work. He gets there with natural ability. And he gets there with Wesley, whom he trusts with his body, his career and his dreams.

Now open your eyes and tell me who you trust with your dreams?

So many of us need a Wesley by our side, not only so that we land in the sand instead of hitting the wall, but so we don’t feel alone in the process of trying and missing as well as trying and flying.

* * *

Two days after taping our interview, I logged in to Parlay From Away, our Virtual Parlay House gathering. Our guest of the week was Trish Kendall, an extraordinary woman whose childhood was stolen by sexual abuse and whose young adult life was darkened by drug addiction, violence and gangs. She tells the story that after many years of suffering, she had chosen to end her life.

But just before injecting a lethal dose of methamphetamine into her veins, her cell phone rang and for some reason, she answered the call. It was her older sister, Maria.

Maria had known she was struggling and had frequently called to offer help. But in the depths of her dependence, Trish had never picked up the phone.

This time, at the moment of her intended death, Trish answered. “If Maria had called one day earlier, I wouldn’t have picked up, and one day later I would’ve been dead,” she told us.

Why did she answer at that moment? Because in her most desperate hour, Maria was the only person she truly trusted with her life. They had grown up in the same household. Suffered from the same abuser. Knew each other on a deep and meaningful level.

That phone call gave Trish the chance to start again.

That transformation began because Maria showed up. Not only was she there at the moment that Trish was ready— she showed up before she was ready and she showed up when she was ready to quit. Maria not only welcomed her into her home, but also helped her get sober and was by her side as she managed the non-linear path to recovery. One small step at a time, she modeled the first truly trusting relationship Trish had ever known.

Trish is now a self-aware, driven, confident woman who has reframed her life into one she describes as a complete success. She’s done it by building trust in herself, trust in others and choosing to give and accept love completely.

Which leads me to ask, “Who can you trust with your life”? Even if we are not suicidal, so many of us need a Maria to reroute us from harm, accept our humanity and celebrate us as we grow.

* * *

Twice in one week, I fell in love with stories about trust, connection and collaboration. They felt extraordinary for me, and maybe especially relevant at this moment.

On a macro as well as a micro level, I’m personally finding it hard to know who to trust.

Yes. I’m talking about the news media and elected officials. I’m talking about falsified vaccination cards and social gaslighting. I’m talking about scammers and spammers and smash-and-grabbers.

But on an especially deep level, I’m talking about the trusting relationships between people in the most intimate human way. I’m talking about connections where, both literally and figuratively, both people know they will be safer and stronger with the other person than if they try to go alone.

Wesley says that he can see, but it is Lex who has the vision of what they can do together. Lex says he has a vision of what he can achieve but can only get there in complete partnership with Wesley.

As the past year ends and a new one begins, I’m going to close my eyes and visualize relationships with this level of trust. I’m going to hone in on the people in my world who have the ability to, as Trish says, completely give and receive love. People who will nurture my heart, and who will let me hold theirs with my own gentle strength.

My trusted circle – you know who you are.

My newer friends, and those of you that I haven’t really gotten to know yet, I have a feeling we can get there too.

We’ll start small. We’ll be gentle. We’ll practice giving and receiving love. We’ll work on seeing each other and opening up ourselves so that we can really be seen. We’ll call out the steps, like Wesley, and step up the calls like Maria.

My eyes are open.

If ever there was a moment for this building of trust, it is now. I hope you’ll join me in making 2022 the year that we build a foundation of trust.

* * *

Share it Small: Do you have someone whom you completely trust with your dreams, your heart, your life? That’s huge. Celebrate that truth with them.

Share it Big: Do you want to build deeper levels of trust with key people in your life? If there are gaps in trust, be open about them and figure out how to rebuild together. The downside is minimal and the upside is the best possible gift.

Share it with Me: We all learn from each other. If you have had a revelation, a breakthrough, 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 2021

Less than two months ago, my daughter Lauren and her husband Patrick welcomed Etta into the world. Of course I think she is the most perfect baby ever, and she had me wrapped around her finger from the first breath.

But rather than “Grandma,” I chose to have her call me Lovey. To me, Lovey sounded more welcoming, happy, fun, youthful and, of course, brimming with love.

I chose my name based on who I am and what I want to be for her.

Etta’s parents chose her name with tremendous intention as well. They picked Etta because it’s unique and beautiful and it doesn’t change dramatically when pronounced in her father’s Glaswegian accent. And they chose it because it honors many members of both sides of our families. My father, born Eugene. My mother, Elizabeth. In Patrick’s family, it’s connected to Henry and Henrietta.

When Lauren and Patrick welcomed their daughter, they embraced her with an overt connection to those who have come before her. But it wasn’t until I arrived at the hospital to hold her in my arms for the first time and they told me her full name that I understood the exceptionally personal impact of their choice.

“Her middle name is Louise,” they said.

I think I almost dropped her.

Louise is my middle name too.

I laughed and I cried. Tears of joy, of course.

But also tears about the irony.

Until that moment, I had hated my name.

* * *

I was born Ann Louise Brandzel, but by first grade, I had decided that Ann was a really plain and boring name. I wanted to be something glamorous like Farah or Julietta or Dominique. I loved the imagery cast by those fancy names, the swirl of the letters when written in script and the multisyllabic cadence of them. While a legal name change was out of the question, I started adding a silent “e” at the end of my own name, changing plain Ann to slightly fancier Anne. I’ve been “fancier Anne” ever since.

If it was required by a higher authority (like a teacher or the SAT Testing Service), I used my middle name. But to me, a self-proclaimed fancy girl of the 1960s, Louise was a throw-back, conjuring up images for me of a saggy older woman with her hair in curlers sporting a boxy, faded floral housecoat that snapped up the front. My Louise was standing on her back porch smoking a cigarette and snooping on the neighbors. My Louise was an old-fashioned woman and I wanted to be a modern girl.

I was a tail-end Baby Boomer who, even at a pretty young age, was wearing crocheted crop tops and cut-off shorts, rejecting the generations before me and seeking ways to define, differentiate and establish my place in the world.

In one day and through one generation, the narrative of my name shifted 180 degrees.

While I was striving to forge new paths and leave the “baggage” of the past behind me, Etta’s parents are savoring the treasures of past generations and embracing the ancestors whose genes they carry. They are curious to learn the family histories, intentional about making and keeping connections with relatives and romantic when reliving memories from their youth.

Now Etta is a throwback to me. And, of course, I adore every single thing about her, including her name.

Not only is she the next connection point in our family chain. Not only is our shared name an exclamation point in my role as the mother to her mother and my direct link to her. Our shared name is the inference that they want something of me to carry on through her.

Yes. I’m crying happy tears.

* * *

Etta has allowed me to be a modern grandma, a Lovey, forever connected through the genes we carry and the imprinted experiences that are passed through generations. And our connection by name is a birthmark we both will proudly wear.

Who knows… one day I may take her to get matching Louise tattoos. After all, I am her Lovey and my motto is, “Lovey Says Yes.”

What a difference a name makes.

So consider this newsletter a love letter.

A love letter to Etta Louise, and a love letter to plain old Ann Louise who was plenty fancy without the e. A love letter to my children who, in one generation, have turned the tables to embrace our history and are finding ways to bring us all closer.

What’s in a name? Everything.

* * *

Share it Small: Is there someone in your life who might laugh at a shared memory or remind you of something you’ve long forgotten? Is there a point of connection you could rekindle through a conversation? Share your memories in a small way by text, letter or even a phone call. One small action can create ripple effects for others that reach farther and deeper than you can even imagine.

Share it Big: Are you in a transition of sorts? It could be a life-stage change like mine, it could be a shift in careers, an evolved relationship or something more. Transitions are huge opportunities for growth and connection, so don’t keep your own transition to yourself. When you share your story in an open way, other people who are in their own transitions don’t feel so alone.

Share it with Me: We all learn from each other. If you have had a revelation, a breakthrough, 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.

August 2020

 

Oh. My. God. Will you stop leaving your dirty dishes in the sink when the dishwasher is right there? Or if the dishwasher is clean, how about unloading it?

Sound familiar?

I feel like I’m negotiating more than ever before. Living in shared households and confined spaces creates real stress on all of us. 

According to our recent Parlay House speaker, Wharton Professor Mori Taheripour, successful negotiations can be maximized when we shift from an aggression mindset to conversations that include empathy, curiosity and human connection. When we see each other as allies and venture to understand each other’s needs, it often results in win-win outcomes.

She asked each of us to consider our own personal non-negotiables and to understand what our partner/business associate/kids’ non-negotiables might be as well. It’s likely that when we understand what will make each of us the happiest, we’ll realize that we aren’t really fighting over the same piece at all… and we all can get more of what we want. 

*  *  * 

What do dirty dishes really mean?

For me, the compromises are easiest when I have clarity about my emotions. With blood running hot these days, I might react to something small because I haven’t acknowledged that underlying my reaction is something that has deeper meaning to me. 

In my exclamations above, I’m not really upset about coffee cups, bar-ware or the salad bowl. I’m actually reacting to a life-long feeling that my needs, my time and my privacy often feel secondary to those I love. 

I understand that many of my feelings are part of a self-fulfilling prophecy triggered by me: I tend to show love through acts of service to others. Through nurturing. I like loving and giving and doing, so a lot of my choices put others first. Then, when I’m not thought of, I feel resentful and hurt.

When I react about the dishes, I’m really asking whether the dishes in the sink means you are not thinking about me. 

Dishes mean dishes, not love.

For my dish-leavers, I know there is no offense intended! Their heads are probably in a different place or their eyes don’t hone in on dishes in the sink like they have some deep meaning. 

But I’ll bet that when I tell them dishes are a sign I’m not being thought of, the people in my life are likely to make that sink shine. They want to make me feel loved in the same way I show my love to them, and they’ll see what dishes mean to me. 

*  *  * 

The onus is on me to make sense of my big reaction to a small thing.

I’m also hoping that opening up about my feelings and needs will open space for them to tell me what THEY need too. Because they are probably wrestling with things that seem small but feel big in the same way I am.

The more I know about their “big small things,” the more I can shape my behavior to make them feel seen as well as loved. We’ll need to negotiate less and can move forward with real needs being met for us both.

Small changes that begin from within (self-awareness) and are then expressed in loving ways that are about needs rather than criticism will increase the likelihood of win-win outcomes for us all. 

*  *  * 

How will you Parlay personal needs into mutual wins?

Share it Small: Take your time with this one. Unless your reaction to my insights is, “OMG, yes, it’s not about the dishes!” think about the things that are really bugging you and what that might really be about. If it’s really about the dishes, tell your peeps that doing a few dishes is a small thing for them but a big thing for you. If the underlying stimulus for the dish drama is about something bigger (as mine was), get clarity about that for yourself and then find gentle ways to let others into those feelings. Chances are, when they know about you, they’ll feel more connected and find ways to support you.

Share it Big: As I finished the first draft of this a couple of days ago, my good friend Carla Vernon happened to post something about her own frustrations with her dish-filled sink on social media. It was not a glamour post — it was a tongue-in-cheek expression of how, in the days of SIP, the little things are getting to her. Her post made me feel less alone (and it made me smile about our shared experience).

What can you share with others that sounds “small” but feels big? Chances are, by talking about your imperfections, frustrations and challenges, you’ll make people in your world feel a little less alone. And that will go a long way into reducing negotiations and increasing understanding for all.

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. 

July 2020

 

I have more on my mind than ever before. Fewer places to go means more time to think. And more time to feel. I have so many feelings these days that my brain feels foggy. It’s hard to focus and I’m inexplicably crying at the most random moments. My physical body feels slower and heavier for carrying all of this additional emotional weight.

Despite so many years of living through setbacks and finding my inner strength, this is a life moment when I am feeling particularly overwhelmed. Of course, there’s an explanation for this waterfall of feelings and flailing: so much is going on, so much is unknown and so much is wrong with our world. 

My personal angst cycles between: 

• Personal plight:  trying to find my center when the things that usually center me (familiarity, friends, family and routine) are so distant and disrupted 

• Pandemic paradoxes:  feeling fearful and frustrated about disparities in behavior between strict quarantine (which we can’t seem to sustain) and a return to deregulated behavior (that is threatening us all with new spikes in disease) 

• Public predicament:  being ill-equipped to help close the gap in the disparities of race, class, justice and access that continue to pervade our society 

I know that I am, and we all are, in yet another  “space in between” – trying to see through the haze of what we left behind and into a future where we hope there will be more answers than unresolved questions.   

*  *  * 

I can’t get to the clarity quickly enough. Living in the questions is daunting and exhausting. 

Yet I know that being “in it,” feeling the uncertainty instead of jumping at answers is where the deepest transformation happens. I’m trying to let myself “just be in it” without forcing resolution and action. Some days I do better than others, and that’s just how it goes.

On good days, I’m not making major life decisions. I’m trying to take small leaps of experimentation and evolution before making rash jumps.  

*  *  *

Leaping smart

Leaping is hard and leaping is scary, but for me, fear diminishes when the leap is coupled with thoughtful planning and moderation. Moderation is what we have been missing by living between poles: choosing between proverbial fasting and gluttony, caves and carnivals, fear and freedom. The lack of moderation is what I think is making my head swim between the fear and faith.

I’ve written before about how the research we did for The Parlay Effect  proved the value and strength of small yet positive actions and how those actions create waves of change that are accelerated by those who observe us and go on to replicate them.  

*  *  *  

Small steps show momentum and reduce risk at the same time

Let’s face it. We are leaderless on so many issues. What’s more, most of us don’t want to be leaders in the traditional sense. We wouldn’t want to (or know how to) walk the line between physical health, emotional health and social health.

But we can be leaders, inspirers and role models on personal levels that create a similar wave of change and movement.

Ease into it

Start with small but meaningful steps that make sense for you and are sustainable. Build from those successes.

Maybe take personal note of what you want to hold on to from this current moment. Determine what in your current cadence is really working for you, making you feel good, strong and successful. You might be making masks. You might be playing violin outside of your apartment building. You might be volunteering for a cause, lifting people who will benefit from a boost in visibility or connecting with someone feeling lonely on a deep and meaningful level. 

Whatever you choose, if it is positive and it feels good, do more of it

Then add an assessment of what isn’t working. Think about your tears and your frustrations because when they get swept under the rug, they seem to multiply like dust bunnies. There are likely numerous ways that you can change your situation, actions, attention and commitment to dial up your impact in your immediate circle about things that feel wrong to you without having to change the course of your entire life. Try small versions of change-making to see how they feel. 

Replicate what feels good by going deeper. Then talk about it 

Don’t talk about it to brag or get kudos, but talk to set an example of the changes that are possible. If you are mentoring someone, one of your friends might decide to do the same. If you have changed a dialogue that was diminishing someone else and turned it into an example of empowerment, do it again when people can hear you. If there is a cause that is really hitting the right notes for you in terms of activism and change, support them with both dollars and voice. People who see you taking action will be inspired to find their own voice and maybe join you on your journey.

We cannot be lost when we are conscious of where we want to go.

We cannot be lost when we begin to visualize a better future and to begin to walk solidly towards it.

We cannot be lost when we take part in shaping our next shared chapter. 

*  *  * 

How are you leading the way?

Share it Small: Put on your mask first. That means, if you are feeling rudderless in this transitional time, care for yourself and find your center. See the good in yourself. Praise yourself for positive choices. Celebrate small victories. Forgive your missteps and mistakes. When something feels good, right and positive, write it down. Keep a running list of the good that you can turn to when needed. Share that list with yourself on a regular basis as a reminder of your ability and progress.

Share it Big: As you process the things in your world that don’t feel as good, pick the recurring themes and think about what small role you might be able to change that could create meaning for someone else. Can you be a mentor to someone? Can you volunteer for a campaign, support a cause, speak up in someone’s defense or join forces to make someone with similar objectives stronger? Do that. The world is 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.  

*  *  * 

I cannot help but share this poem which seems to beautifully capture what this month’s newsletter is about. My favorite line is, “What work have I come here to do besides witness?”. 

We cannot be untethered buoys nor be swallowed by the vast uncertainty of the future. We each must lead in the ways that we can.

On Sullivan’s Island

I heed a path trotted for me before.
I am this impared – forgetting
and forgetting and forgetting. What else
is this wave crashing into shore
but an attempt to cleve remembrance?
Overhead, the dark sky engulfs
the Low Country, once welcome spot
and terror for ancestors, always
a nest for the captors. Now,
baby strollers and casual dog walks
file before a single marquee meant to hold
place for history – leisure where once labor.
What work have I come here to do
besides witness? I go from shore to shore
seeking clarity, to stand on the threshold 
of past and present where land and sea
court death. I search my mind for what remains
of general sanity. There is nothing
but bondage. Ahead the sign reads:
“Deadly currents, deep holes”
and forbids the swim out. I could chase
the distance with salt. I could run 
face forward into what has already claimed me
without regret. This ocean swallows
the whole of me. I could join it 
or become another buoy signalling lost.

-Malcolm Tariq 

June 2020

 

April 4, 1968. 

I was a six-year-old white girl, living in a predominantly black neighborhood in Seattle when Martin Luther King Jr. was fatally shot. My parents, perpetual activists on topics including race, had been trying to help me understand the concept of racial inequity and to explain why one of our country’s most beloved change-agents had been murdered.

Later that week, at our local community center I saw a black man who looked remarkably like the images I’d seen of MLK on our grainy television. In fact, to my six-year-old self, he WAS Martin Luther King. I shouted, “Mom! It’s Martin Luther King and he is alive!” and sprinted to the front of the line where the man stood. I hugged him.

I have vague memories of the conversation that ensued between my mom and this stranger. Despite the embarrassing situation, they were able to talk openly about race, which was probably unusual in itself. They nervously chuckled and chalked up my inability to distinguish one black man from another to my youth. 

The problem is, despite the years and maturity I’ve gained since then, I still struggle to process the differences between my white life and life as experienced by people of color. 

I still say the wrong thing all too often. 

 *  *  * 

Just this week, I made the mistake of asking black friends to talk to me and teach me about how their experiences diverged from mine. They told me that asking them – the people in pain –  to do more work so that I could learn was an unfair ask. It opened up their wounds and put the burden of teaching on them. 

I was expecting people who were suffering to help me do better rather than figuring out how to do better myself.

For white people, the responsibility for learning and evolving is ours. 

*  *  * 

 So here’s what I’m going to do, and I hope you will join me. 

As part of our ongoing conversations and desire to bring women together as strangers who become connected and supportive friends, Parlay House will help shine light on women, especially women of color, who want to share their truths, their knowledge, their organizations, and their ideas. We will be more thoughtful about making sure our speakers reflect the diversity of our membership. We will provide leads for people to take part in permanent change so we can support their initiatives. 

We will be the facilitators for information and a conduit for all forms of support. 

We have begun to compile: 

• Reference materials for learning 
• A chronicle of organizations that need funding 
• Connections to black-owned businesses  
• Examples and role models of black and brown leadership that dial up their messages, their work and their light  

Let’s be honest. I fear making mistakes. These are charged times, and it’s easy to get it wrong.

But I am certain that the biggest mistake of all would be to extend acute lip service without being ready to commit to sustainable action.

When Dr. Serena Chen and I were working on the research for The Parlay Effect, we uncovered something that I deemed “the power of the witness.” Essentially, our quantitative research results proved that when inclusive, kind, generous, brave, and empathetic actions were observed by strangers, the observers tended to replicate those behaviors themselves, creating an outward cascade of good.

It’s easy to wonder how we as individuals can be part of crucial and monumental societal change when it feels so steeped in the discriminatory history of our nation and our unique experiences as humans. 

It’s especially easy to do nothing for fear of getting it wrong.

But with every new and improved action we take, not only will we begin to internalize those behaviors so that they become rooted in who we are, but those observing us will follow as well. 

Wangari Maathai, founder of the Green Belt Movement and winner of the Nobel Peace Prize wrote, “Finally I was able to see that if I had a contribution I wanted to make, I must do it, despite what others said. That I was OK the way I was. That it was all right to be strong.” 

*  *  * 

How can you be a strong and sustainable part of the solution?

Share it Small: Ashlee Eiland, (someone I do not know) posted on Instagram, “Say what you need to on social media. Then put down your phone and pick up your life. Not many will see you learning, confessing, repenting, uprooting, retooling, forgiving, inviting, empowering. But we will see its fruit. The hidden work is the heart work is the hard work.” 

If you are committing to doing something, post it, put down your phone, and get started.

Share it Big: As you read the books, listen to the leaders, consider your past actions and your future aspirations related to creating a more equitable and just society, invite others to join you. They might not know how to start, but they will help you extend your impact as you go about change together. 

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. 

May 2020

How ya feelin’? 

I’ve been asking that question a lot. 

My highly unscientific personal research indicates that half of the people I’ve talked to over the past couple of weeks feel that their days are consumed with guilt. Guilt for watching too much TV. Guilt for letting the kids do the same. Guilt for late-night snacking and guilt for drinking wine too early in the day. Guilt for not checking in on others or not changing out of PJs.

Even when the circumstances might suggest that it’s a good time to give themselves a pass, many of these friends are feeling guilty for resorting to whatever coping mechanisms are helping them get through this crazy time.

I suggest that they be as gentle on themselves as they would be with a friend who is feeling the same way. I hint that they should offer themselves absolution and forgiveness for whatever they are feeling guilty about.  

*  *  * 

My unscientific research has also revealed another kind of guilt that is less familiar. 

I’m calling it “thriver’s guilt”, and I am one of the afflicted.

Thriver’s guilt means feeling embarrassed about being upbeat when others aren’t. 

I feel guilty for enjoying the quiet. Guilty about taking pleasure in the break from social and work obligations. Guilty that we found a way, in the midst of crisis, to reframe Parlay House and therefore reach more people, more often. Guilty about newfound creativity, rediscovered interests, and for being happy when so many people are stressed and suffering. 

I keep quiet about my joy because I recognize it’s a privilege to feel happiness while so many are struggling.

I don’t have experience dealing with such a dichotomy of feelings and situations. And I’d rather not have to hide the fact that I feel at peace.

Providing myself absolution, forgiveness and permission to feel joy is part of the solution, too. My happiness is partially the result of my natural mindset and partially a conscious choice. It’s gained from having lived and been resilient despite uncertain times earlier in my life. 

But how do I come to terms with having been dealt a good hand? 

*  *  * 

Moving Forward with Thriver’s Guilt

After accepting that I can’t change the course of this virus beyond complying with best practices for social distancing, I have stopped trying to force the familiar. Without the ability to gather for my beloved in-person Parlay House events, without being able to hop on a plane to be in a new city each month, and without being able to surround myself with my dearest friends, I have accepted that no matter how tightly I hold on, I can’t take my life back to the way it was.

Step One: Acceptance

I’m letting go of prior expectations and thinking about what I’m drawn to rather than what I have lost.

For me, it’s been a bit of a regression. 

• I’ve rediscovered my fourteen-year-old self who would design clothing and stay up into the wee hours of the morning, sewing an outfit for school that day. The sewing machine is out and outfit number two is in production.

• I went back to the days with my mom and sisters where we would walk on the beach to find bits of shells and sea glass that would become treasures and memories. I’ve been turning those found objects into creatures that may be “bad art” but seem to have personality and expression that is an extension of us in some way.

• My kids and I have been competitively and enthusiastically working together to complete seemingly impossible 1000 piece puzzles, realizing that there are assignments for each of us within the puzzle process where we excel. It’s a new version of connection where we are individuals and a team at the same time. 

Step Two: Action

Obviously, this time is not about me, me, me. It’s a time to get outside of myself and to practice The Parlay Effect to the best of my abilities.

That means I’m grabbing hold of people virtually, helping provide distraction and relief to friends and family who have not yet found their center.

There are many amazing people in my life who are feeling down because of what they have not yet done or what they might need to do at some unknown time in the future. They are stuck between “what was and what will be”.

For them, I commit to the gift of presence: 

• Presence of mind to know that my gain isn’t their loss, and presence to know that if they are lost, I can help make them feel less alone until they find their path again.

• Being personally present with them so that they feel heard and seen during their time of guilt and fear. 

• Letting them know that I accept them as they are. They are a present – a gift to me – even as they struggle to find footing.  

When I can, I also try to borrow gifts to pass along. These gifts come as words that might sink in better than my own. I share humor, inspiration, and as often as possible, poetry. Giving them a respite by reading a poem like this one, provides context and hope while not denying their truth.

Wherever you are in the spectrum of guilt, and even if you are lucky enough to be guilt-free, this whisper of hope is for you.

Absolution:

I free you now
From the realm of the small and improbable
And desire
This cycle of start and finish
Of longing and grief
I free you from fear of the next
Let me release you from
This story written on vanishing paper
Of beginning and end
Of the small and entangled
No devil to greet you
No angel to scorn you
Nor god to judge you
Free of the raw and the cooked
Free of the right and the wrong
Left free now in the capricious winds
Of life and time
Free to drift from moment to moment
Free to come to rest on restless flowers
That never knew you
Free to stop, breathe and be still
If for a moment and know
You have lived

-Guillermo Veloso 

*  *  * 

How do you Parlay?  Are you finding ways to overcome your guilt or help someone with theirs?

Share it Small: If you have a trick for letting yourself off the hook, talk about it with the people you trust. My research shows that when we are present and speak our truths out loud, even when they are guilt-truths, other people feel less alone with theirs.

Share it Big: What’s your capacity? If you have happiness to share, make it a point to take action. Reach out as often as you can to be present for people who need a listener. Follow up with them again so that  they continue to feel seen and not judged.

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. 

April 2020

 

During my adult life, I’ve lived through three major moments of global trepidation and uncertainty: the September 11 attacks, the economic crash of 2009/2010 and the current COVID-19 outbreak. In each case, our intertwined global community shifted from familiarity, safety and a reliable cadence into a discordant and uncertain day-to-day existence without adequate tools to cope.

Today’s message is about moving past fear. 

*  *  *

Because while fear is real, it gets in the way of action.

My brother-in-law Gary (who is a psychiatrist) told me about some important historic research by Yokes and Dotson. In an attempt to understand the correlation between fear/anxiety and performance, they conducted a study. Their results showed that while a little bit of fear enhanced performance, any substantive levels of fear caused performance to plummet at disproportionate levels. Fear gets in the way of thinking. Fear gets in the way of doing.

He said that one of the most common presentations of fear is ”fear of the unknown”. Essentially, people start anticipating things that haven’t happened and likely won’t happen. They start playing for the future, thinking too much about the “what-ifs” and driving themselves crazy about things they can’t control. Since the number of possibilities is endless, the “what-if game” becomes a perpetual spiral.

What’s more, if you are thinking about the future, you are not connecting with whomever you are with and whomever you care about right now. The trick to moving from anticipatory fear to present calm is to stay in the moment.

The antidote to fear is connection.

*  *  *

While the current risks prevent us from being physically connected with each other beyond our intimate families, this time of physical distance can be a catalyst to finding emotional depth. Depth in knowing ourselves and better defining our values. Depth in becoming comfortable with the unknown, (that “space in between what was and what will be”). And depth as we double down on communication and intimacy.

It’s times like these when we stop taking people and privilege for granted and can ask questions like what we’d like to be doing more of, what we naturally do well, what really gets our blood boiling and most importantly, who we’d like to spend more time with in the future. It’s a time to think about what we are grateful for.

Write those thoughts down so that you remember them when things get back to normal. This virus will pass, while these are long-term values and goals that will stay with you far longer.

Beyond this internal exploration, we also know that there are a huge number of small activities you can undertake now which will have big results for others. They all start with kindness.

*  *  *

Kindness is contagious.

Kindness doubles when you share it. You can share it in your household, online, via phone, through FaceTime and even through actual written letters. Dr. Gary told me that kindness is clinically proven to reduce stress, anxiety and depression by triggering the production of serotonin, endorphins and oxytocin.

The work Serena Chen and I did as part of  The Parlay Effect  also proved that when we act in these small, kind ways, other people emulate our behavior and behave similarly, creating an outward cascade of good. That’s the kind of “virus” I can really get behind. The Parlay Effect kind.

*  *  *

What’s your Parlay Effect?

Share it Small: Start flipping fear to calm by reaching out and connecting with people you care about. Use your extra time for a longer-than-usual conversation. Hearing from you will undoubtedly pull them back into the moment as well.

Share it Big: Instead of perpetuating fear (and possibly spreading misinformation), let everyone in your extended world know not only that you are safe, but share a personal insight, a present thought, a new project or a future goal with them. Tell the world about kind actions that are tiding you over. You can even initiate group puzzles and games online to be connected and share some laughs. Kindness and connection will trump fear and isolation every time.

Share it with me: 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.