Category: Uncategorized

Aug 2022

 

I woke up this morning in a ditch.

Not an actual ditch, thank goodness. My life isn’t Peaky Blinders.

But I was in an emotional ditch created by a series of challenging moments that were eating away at my solid footing. Most of those moments were beyond my control, and none of them were insurmountable on their own. But the gestalt of them all had leveled me, and I’m not someone who is easily leveled.

I tried to go about my day-to-day business but was in a fog. Gotta keep going, I said to myself.

So I started with “work” and opened my inbox.

Usually, opening my email is not uplifting. It’s a slog through calendar invitations, unwanted promotions and fundraising solicitations, slightly diluted by news about a sale taking place on my favorite pair of shoes.

But today, my inbox felt like an intervention.

* * *

First, there was an email from Janet, a long-time friend and Parlay House member.

“I left [the recent Parlay House Book Exchange in NYC] with one of your books but admit that I haven’t started to read it yet. Instead, I went out and bought the book Bea talked about at the event: It’s called All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten. I was so moved when I heard her personal story that I couldn’t wait to dig in, and I finished it in a matter of hours.

Last night I shared the wisdom from that book and its role in Bea’s story with a Judge who was being installed as President of a national organization committed to improving the way children experience the court system….who welcomed the reference and simplicity of the book.

In that moment, Beatrice’s openness and authenticity was ‘Parlay-ed’ to a person who makes an impact on a broad and meaningful level.”

Wow. Dopamine rushed through my system, as effective as smelling salts.

I snapped back into the present and began to rise from my ditch.

Janet was telling me that the organization I had founded to connect women and create meaningful conversations had done what was intended, and “The Parlay Effect” – the extension of small acts of kindness, inclusion and inspiration – was now spreading to people who would amplify it.

But there was something more.

The author of that book they were talking about was not new to me.

Its author, Robert Fulghum, was my high school English teacher.

Was this just a crazy coincidence… or something bigger?

* * *

I had missed this book event due to a family emergency, so I reached out to Bea to understand Janet’s reference to her story and to learn why she had chosen that book.

“I was gifted the book when I was a teenager. I left home at Sixteen to go to a shelter for teens and then to a girls’ group home. I was so scared – standing on shaky legs by myself – and I felt like I was perhaps fully standing for the first time. I was so unsure of what to do with all that was before me.

My therapist gave me the book as a gift on my new path of life. Reading it, I felt empowered, encouraged, and understood, despite being in an abusive space where there wasn’t much understanding. It changed the course of my life and has stuck with me.

I was so excited about attending the book exchange. You asked us to bring something that meant something to us, and in all these years, I have always treasured that book. Through it I learned that the mountains I faced might be big, but I could scale them.

I wanted to share my empowered state, especially with women navigating serious, rough terrain. I wanted to share the treasure trove of joy and laughter that heals the soul.

It was a sincere blessing that Janet passed the knowledge I found to someone who will better help others. Its joy multiplied.”

Hearing this from Bea, I was now out of my ditch, standing on my own shaky legs. Thanks to her and Janet, I brushed off the dirt.

Janet and Bea had given me important context and a much-needed reminder that I was doing something important in the world.

Fueled with dopamine, I dove back into my inbox with a more positive view.

* * *

The next email?

A note from Dhaya, another Parlay House member as well as a speaker, performer, soul sister and friend.

“Anne, it’s been a while since I’ve seen you, but I knew you’d want to hear about this.

I was walking along Van Ness the other day, and saw a clearly unwell person lunge at a woman who was dressed for work, in heels etc. The woman had to run into oncoming traffic to avoid the person now almost chasing her. The woman recovered without being hit and safely hid near a building back on the sidewalk. I saw the whole thing happening.

My main concern was not calling the police on the perpetrator but checking in with the woman nearly attacked. She was crying.

I had my mask on, but kept talking to her. I asked if I could walk her to her destination or needed a hug. Suddenly she said, “I KNOW YOU” And I was like “What?” She said, “You spoke at Parlay House! I’m Melody, a Nurse. I loved what you said about nurses.”

Since then Melody and I have hung out, she lives in my neighborhood and two nights ago she came to a show. This felt like such a random story, but I believe Parlay and you had a lot to do with this!”

Double validation in one day! An influx of encouragement and positivity. It’s amazing how being seen can turn the tables on darkness and provide fresh perspective.

I literally felt strength surge back into my body.

I had not spoken with Dhaya in over a month and she would have no reason to know that I needed a hand getting back on my feet.

Some would say this was divine intervention. Others would look to the glory of coincidence and celebrate that luck. Cynics might assert that I get positive feedback and validation at other times in the year – that this wasn’t so unique. They may be right, but there is something special about being reached during a moment of need. It rings louder, sinks deeper and means more.

And since there is no way they could have known that I was in a dark place, I’m taking away a flicker of light and am going to share it forward.

If someone has affected my life in some way, I’m going to let them know.

It may only be a nice blip in their inbox (not quite as good as a shoe sale, but still…). Or… it could be the message that lifts them out of a tough spot, onto sturdier footing and adds an infusion of encouragement that was as transformative as this one was for me. You never know, but isn’t it worth putting it out there?

* * *

What can you do to lift someone else?

Share it Small: Did someone reach out to you in a way that made you feel good? Let them know!

Share it Big: Did someone reach out to you in a way that was much bigger than they even knew? It might be time to take five minutes to reach out to someone else in the same way! Maybe even make it a daily or weekly practice to tell people in your life that you see them, appreciate them or benefitted from something they’ve said or done.

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 power.

July 2022

 

As I write this month’s missive, our family beach vacation in Greece is coming to an end.

We’ve traveled here every year, adding new family members to the trip as our children find partners and begin their own families. Each gathering has its own cadence; its own highlights, its own challenges and its own memories.

At lunch today, our granddaughter Etta grabbed a piece of steamed broccoli from her high-chair tray and squeezed it with all of her might, taking inordinate pleasure in its soft malleability and the fact that glorious green vegetable water oozed from her clenched grip down her arm and into a small, sticky pool at the base of her high chair. We all laughed with her.

Will this be the moment we remember?

Later that day, we sat together, looking out over the white-capped Aegean. Waves peaked, and as the blustery wind blew the waves back into the ocean, water particles created a rainbow mist that disappeared as quickly as it formed. I’ve never seen a rainbow created quite this way.

Will this be the moment we remember?

As we’ve been together, I’ve been thinking a lot about the passage of time and the formation of memories.

Why is it that one day can feel as long as a week but the week has flown by as though it was just a day? Is the difference the presence of joy? The existence of connection?

Why do years contain the same number of days but seem to have different lengths? For me, the past few years felt interminable while I was in them, and yet they are such a distant memory that I have lost my ability to track where we are now in the continuum of time.

It’s almost like we’ve lost a year or two despite the fact that each day seemed to move so slowly.

I’ve been noticing that events which took place long ago often feel closer than yesterday, especially when those events were important to me. Yet small things that happened yesterday have already fled my memory unless someone reminds me of them.

Maybe I’m getting old and am just forgetting.

Maybe I am becoming sentimental.

Maybe I’m clinging to the past because, when not on vacation, the present feels so daunting.

* * *

Whatever the truth, I think about these questions because I find myself searching for context. Context for a long-term life framework. Context as an immediate guidepost and grounding rod.

Until recently, time had been a measure that helped me track where I had been and where I was going in relation to other experiences. Now it’s just a mind fuck.

Following a traditional framework of “time” might now be the wrong measure.

It’s the moments when we are really honed in and present for the squished broccoli and the reflective wave particles that seem to stretch and become lasting memories.

There is something important that the elusive past few years have made me realize:

Life may not evolve as we expected, and “time” may actually be better measured by being in the present than by dwelling on the past or longing for the future.

With that lens of living in the “now” and taking delicious pleasure in the small things, my personal longing for times past or those yet to come has been replaced with the feeling that there is not enough time in the day for the very moments we are in.

I’m making time for now.

Not just “vacation now,” but the now of living in and treasuring the present. After all, there is not enough time on earth for broccoli and rainbows. God knows what else I’ve missed while looking at my calendar.

* * *

Do you focus on being present? So many of us could benefit from your experience and insight!

Share it Small:  Practice the art of noticing so that it embeds with you. Pay attention to the way a fallen leaf looks like a heart. Create a memory of the way the wind becomes visible when it crosses the surface of the water. See how much better you can visualize someone after having taken the time to truly look into their eyes and notice what those eyes look like in detail. There are never-ending chances to truly see and a higher likelihood that when you truly see, you will better remember.

Share it Big:  If you are savoring something as you experience it, let those around you know. The fact that you can describe the glow that comes from appreciating the things that are happening in the moment will likely inspire those around you to do the same.

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.

June 2022

 

Who lives next door?

When I was about seven years old and learning to ride my “big girl bike,” I forgot how to use the brakes. Looking around for anything that would slow my momentum, I grabbed hold of the chainlink fence that lined our sidewalk, just in time to stop myself from wheeling uncontrollably down the steep Seattle hill. Bad strategy: the twisted metal tore straight through my palm.

Our neighbor, a nurse named Jane Fine, came out to help me and bandaged my hand before I left for the hospital to get stitches.

We hadn’t lived on that street for too long, and the neighborly care and affection are still vivid memories. Over the coming years, Jane’s teenage sons would play basketball with my dad in our “half-court” and patiently coach my sisters and me as we missed the rim in endless games of “H-O-R-S-E.”

I still remember the Welcome Wagon goodie basket delivered by a local group that was dropped at our door when we moved into that house, and I can still see the community center where we would go to talk about neighborhood issues, watch hometown performances and participate in the Halloween costume competition.

That was 1969. I live in a different city now, and it’s a very different time.

So much has changed in the way we live.

New neighbors moved in next door to us a few months ago, and keeping with my childhood experiences, I dropped off some San Francisco treats and a welcome note with all our contact information. We invited them to dinner and offered to be a backup location for the delivery of packages or for the safe-keeping of a spare key. And while they texted a grateful response, we’ve never gotten to know each other.

In fact, I can hear them on the adjacent deck and in the next backyard, but I don’t remember their names. I haven’t met their kids, and I have no idea whether they have a dog.

On the other side of our house sits a small apartment building inhabited by renters who are also strangers. Some of them are familiar, like the young man with the big German Shepherd and the older one who frequently blocks our driveway with a car that is too big for the spot.

We’ll say hello or nod when we pass on the street, but again, we don’t know each other.

* * *

Because I don’t know them, I don’t feel much of anything about them except occasional annoyance when trying to maneuver my car out of the garage or when I find a stray cigarette butt dropped into our backyard from the apartment above.

As my husband and I were leaving our house the other day, a fire truck rolled up to that building, and the firefighters jumped out of the truck to follow a woman who was motioning them inside. Was it a fire in the building attached to ours? Probably not, since no one was yelling “fire.”

But at that moment, I realized that I cared about the risk of our property burning down, but I didn’t have the instinct to offer to help the actual people. I didn’t know them, and the firefighters were already there. This is embarrassing for me because it’s not the person I want to be. I was not a neighbor like Jane Fine was to me when I was a kid.

I believe this disconnection is at the heart of our collective hurt.

When we don’t know each other, we can’t feel each other’s pain or notice the signs of one of us needing help. Without that intimacy, we can’t experience the world in any way other than the one we’ve lived. We become people whose tendency is to mend ourselves and fend for ourselves.

The problem is that when we don’t know each other, our bubbles become our very small worlds.

So what do we do if we try to create bonds, but others don’t respond?

I think our only answer is to keep trying.

The conscious effort of looking for small ways to connect and to know each other on a one-to-one basis is the easiest first step towards rebuilding the sense of connection and community that is missing in so many places. And it’s something every one of us can do.

The effort required is small and the potential upside is being part of a movement that can begin to rebuild a sense of community connection that could lift us all.

As William Stafford says in A Ritual to Read to Each Other

If you don’t know the kind of person I am
and I don’t know the kind of person you are
a pattern that others made may prevail in the world
and following the wrong god home we may miss our star.

For there is many a small betrayal in the mind,
a shrug that lets the fragile sequence break
sending with shouts the horrible errors of childhood
storming out to play through the broken dike.

And as elephants parade holding each elephant’s tail,
but if one wanders the circus won’t find the park,
I call it cruel and maybe the root of all cruelty
to know what occurs but not recognize the fact.

And so I appeal to a voice, to something shadowy,
a remote important region in all who talk:
though we could fool each other, we should consider—
lest the parade of our mutual life get lost in the dark.

For it is important that awake people be awake,
or a breaking line may discourage them back to sleep;
the signals we give — yes or no, or maybe —
should be clear: the darkness around us is deep.

* * *

Yes. The darkness around us is deep. So where can you share your light?

Share it Small: Ask and remember your neighbor’s names. Bring their paper to the front door. Let them know how to reach you if needed. Do more than just nod as you pass by.

Share it Big: The research I did with Dr. Serena Chen for my book, The Parlay Effect showed real evidence that when we commit small acts of “seeing each other,” not only do the people we see repeat our actions with others but others who observe the interaction replicate it, too. So your moment of getting to know someone could be the beginning of countless connections that turn people next door into neighbors and even into friends.

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.

May 2022

 

When I was 17 years old, a senior at Lakeside High School in Seattle, I took a philosophy course taught by an epic professor, Jim Wichterman. We spent weeks developing an understanding of the ideas brought to life by great thinkers like Kant, Descartes and Mill. We debated the possibility of living life based on “doing the greatest good,” “whether agape love was truly attainable,” and trying to carve out our place in the world.

Whenever we thought we’d mastered the ideas of a philosopher or come to a conclusion about a social dilemma, he’d throw a wrench into our thinking, sending us back to reconsider (just as the philosophers had done with each other). It was a fantastic way to learn.

As we hurled closer to graduation, he had us write (and rewrite) our own Magnum Opus.

Our “Great Life’s Work”

In our youthful attempts to hone our beliefs, dissect our hierarchy of needs, refine our values and anticipate our decisions, we’d draft our essays and then share our naked assertions with another classmate for critique. I still remember my friend Peter Golding worrying about the risks I was taking with the complete vulnerability of my confessions. He cautioned me that others would take advantage of me for exposing my feelings so openly and he questioned my “assumptions about mankind” (we used such terminology then). He had a hard time accepting my belief that humans are inherently good.

When I left for college a few months later, I planned to study philosophy and delve into this world of thoughts, ideas and values.

But once there, the practical imperative of finding a career path and paying the rent got the better of me, and instead of philosophy, I majored in political science and economics.

I got caught up in the “musts” and “shoulds” and the bread and butter of the business world.

* * *

Of course, as my business career evolved and I worked my way up the corporate ladder, there were moments when I could hear professor Wichterman whispering in my ear, asking whether I was living my values. Like the time a senior person on a business pitch “accidentally” took the computer cable from the presentation room when we finished, leaving our competitors without access to AV. Or the time someone left a fake “strategy paper” in hopes of distracting the next team about an irrelevant issue. Winning by bending a moral code sickened me, but I didn’t leave the industry for a myriad of reasons including the need to support my family.

When a personal illness forced me to take time off during a moment when the company needed me most, I found myself at the mercy (or lack thereof) of the very business that I had loyally served. They fired me. Sick and without a job, my thoughts returned to the conversations we’d had in Wichterman’s classroom.

I was contemplating the same questions he’d first posed to me in 1984.

What was my personal hierarchy of needs now and how did I align those needs with my core values?

After a 25 year career in an industry where transactions trumped trust and relationships were only as real as the short-term opportunities they presented, I found myself back at the place I’d begun:

• Yearning for intimate relationships where I could be my authentic self
• Pining for discussions about raw ideas, deep values and transformational experiences
• Searching for satisfaction measured by what touched my heart rather than just my wallet

I realized that at 50 years old, the essence of me was the same as it was when I was 17.

Fortunately, this was a moment when I could act on those desires. I did it not only by founding Parlay House where those intimate, vulnerable and authentic conversations could take place, but also by gathering a group of friends who I could trust with my openness and my sensitive heart. I traded the days of transacting into days for interacting.

I finally felt like me.

Wasn’t it T.S. Eliot who wrote, “We shall not cease from exploration and in the end of our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time”?

I studied that in high school too, but it’s only now that I’m truly understanding what it’s all about.

* * *

Have you had revelations that might bring you closer to the person you are, deep in your core?

Share it Small: If you haven’t been able to align who you are, what you value and how you go about your life, now is a perfect time to keep track of that. Even if you can’t make a huge career shift as I did, keeping track of what you want less of and more of is a gift of exploration that will keep on giving.

Share it Big: Do you have an unmet aspiration that will get you closer to living your most actualized life? Put it out there! The more clarity you have and the more you can verbalize what you’re seeking, the more likely it will become true.

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.

April 2022

 

Let me set the scene

Two middle-aged people are set up on a blind date. She’s a busy advertising executive and he’s a businessman in town for a bunch of meetings. They block out 30 minutes to grab a cup of coffee and he’s 10 minutes late. One quick cappuccino later, she heads for the door, rushing back to the office to get to a meeting about raising money for underprivileged children in Uganda. He tries to match pace with her stiletto sprint, and at the end of their four-block race, he says, “My philosophy about donating money is that there are thousands of really good causes, but I look at the people leading the way and put my money in the people rather than the causes. I always bet on the people. You impress me and I’d like to make a donation.”

Best pick up line ever

That was my first date with David, who went on to become the love of my life.

Now you might think this blog is going to go on to dish about the best and worst first dates, crazy pick-up lines and the shocking truths about the dating world, but I’ll save those topics for more intimate audiences.

* * *

Today I want to talk about who we support.

David did double supportive duty on that date, making me feel valued, and making a grant to an organization that I cared deeply about at the same time. He’d also be the first to admit that there was a bit of self-interest in his support of me and our organization – it certainly sealed the deal for a second date!

But given the number of worthy causes, his commitment to strong leaders got me thinking about who gives and why.

How do you decide where to put your time, energy, money and heart?

The last few years have proven to all of us that our intimate connections matter most. Family, friends, people who share our values and people whom we can trust with our hearts are centerfold.

Beyond that, many of us have been digging into issues and causes that matter to us, hoping to move the needle in some way. The challenge is that there are so many important causes, so many opportunities to make progress, so many issues to cover, freedoms to protect and values to uphold, it’s hard to know where to start.

In all of the conversations I’ve been having lately, I’ve been listening to people’s choices about how to move the needle forward in ways that matter to them.

* * *

Focus on Impact

We interviewed Sam Bankman-Fried on the Bring a Friend Podcast last week, and we learned that he thinks about issues and causes in terms of where he can do the greatest good. His utilitarian philosophy for giving is that the issue or cause is less important than the potential to have a positive outcome. His is a quantitative and calculated approach about impact. In fact, he describes himself as an effective altruist, working nearly 24/7 to make as much money as he can so that he can give it away in areas where lasting solutions can happen.

Focus on Personal Connection

Another one of our past guests, Shabana Basij-Rasikh grew up in Afghanistan under Taliban rule and is on a life-long quest to nurture and educate Afghani women. As someone who was escorted to secret underground schools taught by brave women who were willing to risk their lives to educate the next generation of women, her philosophy about giving has been to make it her life’s work. SOLA (School of Leadership Afghanistan) is as personal as it gets, and over the past few months she has bravely rescued her students, teachers, administrators and their families as the Taliban regained power, creating a new home base for learning and keeping them safely sheltered in another country.

Focus on Issues

A third guest, Nicholas Sensley, grew up in one of New Orleans’ most challenged neighborhoods and experienced his fair share of violence and racism from the police force there. But he was unwilling to accept the divide between law enforcement and citizens, and followed a career in the police force himself. Prompted by the death of George Floyd, he parlayed his expertise into the Institute for American Police Reform. He founded it to create appreciation and respect on both sides of the law enforcement divide. His is an issues-based approach.

Trust in leaders.
Confidence about outcomes.
Connection to personal stories.
Upholding social values.

Many of us choose different ways to provide support

It doesn’t matter where you start – issues, outcomes or personal – just start. You’ll be moving the needle about something that makes the world a bit better – and you never know when it will come with added benefits.

Can you imagine the impact if all 10,000 people receiving this blog do one small something to lift others? It could be huge.

* * *

Don’t keep your actions to yourself!

Share it Small: The research we did for The Parlay Effect showed that there’s an exponential impact when something kind or generous is witnessed by others because people replicate what they see. So even your smallest action will trigger a ripple effect of good.

Share it Big: Create a challenge of your own! Maybe forward this email to five friends who also can have impact. Whether they join you for a cause, contribute to have greater impact or are inspired by the leaders who inspire you, you’re building momentum that feels good and does good too.

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.

March 2022

 

I think of myself as being born in the spring, because I remember birthdays in Seattle when the crocuses pushed themselves out of the earth, the cherry trees burst into bloom, and the camellias blossomed in pink and in white all along Cascadia Avenue.

But my mother reminds me that on the second day of March in 1962, we barely made it to the hospital for my birth because the fresh snowfall made the hills nearly impassable.

She remembers winter and I remember spring.

If you’re an East-coaster, you may be thinking that March is not just winter, but the dregs of winter, with everyone completely exasperated by the cold wind and dirty snow. In March, hints of warmth (and hope) are frequently doused by the next surprise storm.

All of these perceptions are true, of course. The crocuses push through the snow, and even through the dirty dregs. The calendar says “still winter” but the trees say “becoming spring.”

Which leads me to talk about how we frame things.

I think of myself as a spring kind of person.

Spring because it’s proof of life under the quiet earth. Spring because it’s ripe with possibilities even if the fruit is not yet harvestable. Spring because it allows us to imagine and anticipate the rebirth of our surroundings.

* * *

This birthday, my husband rallied a few of my closest friends to celebrate 60 years of spring, 60 years of life, 60 trips around the sun.

Sitting with the people I love to the depth of my heart, I noted how different this milestone was from my birthday ten years ago when I built Parlay House. That was a time when I was coming out of one of the darkest life moments – a painful collision of illness, job loss and an empty nest. I was in a sad and desperate place, seeking to trade out extractive relationships for fresh, deep and meaningful ones. My spring of 50 planted “idea seeds” for growing deep roots and strong limbs as I replanted myself in San Francisco.

But at 60, I was celebrating with spring in my step. Surrounded by loved ones, many of whom were the flowers of my 50-year-old farming, I felt rejuvenated. While my 50th birthday was a time to ask, “What do I want to grow?” at 60, I was able to nurture and reap the harvest.

The time with my circle and the chance to see them grow to love each other was glorious. And while each friend lavished me with a thoughtful gift gathered based on truly knowing and seeing me, the best was a box of letters they had elicited from other people in my life that I care deeply about.

Letters came from childhood friends and college classmates. They came from family, both inherited and chosen. They came from people I admire deeply and mentors who helped me along the way. A few even came from former colleagues whose relationship with me transcended the transactional and competitive underbelly of work.

The messages were as varied as the writers.

Some were poems, song lyrics or shared memories. Some noted that the girl I was when we first met was the obvious precursor to who I am now. Some expressed the hope that we would grow to know each other even more deeply and fully over time.

Of course these letters were an ego boost and made me feel connected, loved and grounded.

They were also proof that having a vision of what you want, stating that desire out loud, and working towards it can fertilize your getting there.

* * *

I’m happy to say that at 60, I am not in a personal place of darkness and feel propped up by the people with whom I’m deeply connected. It feels wonderful to have that strength and support.

But I also recognize that while I’ve emerged from my own battle, I have spring in my step while others are huddled in darkness and fear. That truth is very hard to reconcile.

The promise of spring and the chill of winter’s depth exist at the same time.

So while my vision for the last decade was to create personal intimacy and connection, I’m committing to making this decade a time to extend light and a sense of belonging on a broader level, drawing in those who are currently in the darkness. When I was in my own darkness, this is what I would have wanted.

So I’m putting it out there; planting those seeds.

I want to have conversations that draw in those who are hurting and those who are misunderstood. I want to give them a place to speak and be heard, to listen and feel connected. Whether it’s the darkness of war, the depth of exclusion, the pain of prejudice or the personal hell of depression and isolation, I want to help strangers realize they have a place to be propped up too.

I’ll do it by amplifying stories that wouldn’t otherwise be shared. I’ll do it by welcoming strangers into my home, whether it’s literally or figuratively. I’ll do it by sharing resources of whatever kind is needed.

This is my 60’s, flower child, positive interpretation of all that is possible. It’s my journey.

But since I’m reaching you, I hope it’ll spark something in you as well. Maybe it’s that you see that you are in a good place and you’ll celebrate that moment and maybe even pass on a bit of the sunlight. Maybe it’s that you are in a darkness, but are willing to let someone else know where you are so that you are not alone in that suffering. Maybe you have something to share and just need to figure out how to direct it.

Whatever that spark is, I hope you’ll water it and see what grows.

* * *

Share it Small: Parlay House isn’t the only way to be inclusive beyond your circle. Someone you know is in the depths of something right now, and by asking the right questions, you’ll find them. When you do, all you need to do is find ways to let them in so that you can share your spring.

Share it Big: There are thousands of grassroots organizations doing amazing work. Whether they are providing humanitarian relief, mental health advocacy, educational support or social justice activism, supporting their efforts will channel resources where they are most needed.

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.

February 2022

Where do you get your information and stimulation these days? Who do you talk to, what do you read, where do you scroll, when do you listen and how do you follow events? Beyond that, who do you block, unfollow, cancel or tune out?

Now, more than ever, our content shapes what we know (or think we know) how we feel, and the assumptions we make about other people.

It’s a weird self-fulfilling cycle – we’re most comfortable hearing information and perspectives that validate our thoughts, so we only listen to those sources and talk to those people. We unfollow anything that hits us wrong. We steer clear of anyone who annoys us. The safer we are, the more it seems that anyone who feels and thinks differently is a threat.

That door swings both ways, too. God forbid we’re “caught” listening to a news source with an alternative POV or having a conversation with someone who is “on the other side” of our norms. In the current state of polarization, when we stray out of our lane, we risk being judged, ridiculed or even canceled.

So here’s what I want to know: Are you content with your content?

* * *

This was a conversation that hit at the heart of the Parlay House team as we met last week to talk about what we’re putting out into the world. After all, we host virtual events multiple times each month, live events in twelve cities around the world, a weekly podcast called Bring a Friend, our recurring Weekend Lift newsletter and my monthly notes like this one. We’re responsible for creating and curating a lot of content and stimulating a lot of conversation.

Are we too liberal or too cautious? Over-sensitive or insensitive? Inclusive or exclusionary?

When we stopped to ask ourselves how we could bring even more relevance and diversity of thought into our conversations, we found that despite our intention to be broad and inclusive, we didn’t know where to start!

When we stick to people, subjects and resources that only confirm our beliefs, we don’t know what we don’t know.

Yes, asking people to stretch outside of their comfort zones is risky.

As the Founder and leader of an organization that was created to foster authentic conversations that feel both meaningful and safe for everyone, I walk a fine line.

But it’s in those stretches beyond the familiar that we have the possibility of finding commonalities and building a sense of belonging – even when we may not see the world the same way.

As Arielle often says, “We can love each other even when we don’t always like each other.”

From what I can tell, the Parlay House team isn’t alone in walking the tightrope between “neutral and inflammatory”. Whether it’s related to politics, religion, social behavior, relationships and more, we’ve all got to get a bit more comfortable with the uncomfortable. Flirt with the unfamiliar. Taste the forbidden fruit. By stepping into the unfamiliar, we hope to come out the other side with broadened perspectives about other people’s experiences that shaped their different but important lives, views and values.

* * *

So this newsletter includes an ask. Can you burst our bubble?

We‘d love for you to let us know about a perspective that is being missed, give us context for a POV that is not mainstream, or provide background that might help people who are different from you understand you a bit better.

Share it Small: Tell us something that’s important to you that we might be missing. Tell us something that you are feeling but not saying because it isn’t PC. Tell us about something you want to talk about but don’t want to get slammed for. We’ll try to pick up the conversation on your behalf.

Share it Big: What are the conversations we aren’t hearing on a community or even a national level? If the mainstream media isn’t calling it out, we probably don’t know about it either. Open those doors for us so we can dig deeper and figure out how to broaden those conversations too. If we don’t know, we can’t grow. Thanks for helping change that.

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.

January 2022

Let’s play a game. What do these four things have in common?
A 200-page hardbound coffee table book about a clothing company, gift wrapped and delivered overnight by FedEx
A fancy package tied with yards of green silk ribbon containing Lucite coasters and a plaid blanket emblazoned with the name of a bank
A sleek, glossy packet holding a keychain and USB drive stick from a local car dealer
A luxury water bottle and travel mug embossed from a charity
The answer? These are gifts I received this holiday season.

They came from people who wanted to thank me for my purchase or my donation… and to make me feel somehow connected with their company.

I think I’m supposed to be grateful, but TBH, these gifts didn’t have the desired effect.

In fact, they pissed me off.

The “givers” weren’t thinking of me at all. They were sending self-promotion dressed in gift packaging. If I used the swag (and who uses bank-branded lucite coasters?), I’d become a non-paid advertiser for their business. Adding salt to the wound is the knowledge that they probably used some of the money I spent or donated to pay for it.

I plan on regifting anything that might help someone in need, and throwing the rest in recycling.

Fortunately, my gift interactions weren’t a total bust.

* * *

One brand sent a gift card for me to get something for myself as a percentage of what I’d spent. It was a great way of getting me to shop with them again, but it had true value without making me a shill.

A number of websites I visited did even better. They offered to make contributions toward things that matter to me: donating carbon credits or making charitable gifts based on my purchase. One site even spelled out the exact effect, “this gift provides two chemotherapy treatments” and “20% of proceeds will be donated to St. Jude.” I loved that one.

This leads me to talk about real gifts.

In contrast to brazen drops of unwanted swag and the material nature of the holiday season in general, there were some thoughtful surprises.

Not only were friends and family exceedingly creative, they came up with presents that were, in my opinion, what all gifts should be: a way for someone who cares about me to say, “I know you and I know what matters to you.” They contained no ulterior motives or attempts to buy my favor (although who doesn’t treasure the first iPad “painting” ever made by her granddaughter, turned into an NFT and linked to a charity supporting female artists of color? OK, son-in-law, you got brownie points for that one).

Most importantly after two years in isolation and the ongoing shadow of Omicron, the material component of the holiday season gave way to something much deeper.

It was the presence and not the presents that moved me.

* * *

While previous holidays have been clouded with a focus on the material, the clarity of the past couple of years allowed me to see that people and connection matter most.

Yes, the death of my father dialed up that truth. So did the isolation and distance forced by Covid which diminished our ability to spend time together as a family. The lack of physical presence at Parlay House reduced connections to one way “talks.” And don’t even get me started on the void I feel being so far away from friends.

But I felt the presence that came from many people in my life who intentionally checked in, shared their truth and gave me space to share mine. They were “there for me” even when they couldn’t be “there with me.” That meant far more than what might, in past years, have been obscured by the gift of a book, a candle or Gustav Klimt themed socks.

My Grand Prize Gift of the Year Award goes to the ultimate act of being present…..

A Hug.

Science has shown that hugs lasting 20 seconds or more release oxytocin which not only boosts the immune system and reduces stress, it creates a stronger bond between the huggers. I can’t think of a better gift than that.

I didn’t get many hugs this year for obvious reasons. But the ones I safely received are still with me, keeping the endorphins and my spirit in a much-needed high.

Moving forward, I’m going to base my gift giving on a new measure that I’m calling the hug economy. It trades on the currency of presence, is accelerated by togetherness and has unrealized value that, through its exchange, will make each of us a little richer in the most meaningful way.

* * *

Still too early to begin a cascade of hugging? It’s not too early to talk about it:

Share it Small: Do it virtually! While the endorphin high might not be the same, letting people know you wish you could hug them (as long as it comes without sexual innuendo or social discomfort) is a way of saying how close you feel to someone else or the impact that they have on you.

Share it Big: Give yourself a hug on camera and dedicate it to a loved one you want to share it with by tagging them online. It might start an endorphin rush through the ether and be a bridge that carries you until you can actually hold each other for 20 seconds or more and feel your collective energy rise.

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.

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.