Category: Uncategorized

December 2020

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

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

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

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

* * *

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

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

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

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

* * *

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

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

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

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

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

* * *

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

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

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

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

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

Let’s start now.

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

Inhale deeply.

Exhale fully.

Inhale again, even more slowly.

Exhale again, loudly and completely.

It’s time to begin again.

* * *

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

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

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

November 2020

I’ve been avoiding the things that scare me. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I needed to calm the fuck down.

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

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

*  *  * 

Most of us are on edge in some way. 

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

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

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

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

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

Now about that wasp in our living room… 

*  *  * 

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

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

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

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

 

October 2020

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

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

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

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

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

*  *  * 

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

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

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

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

*  *  * 

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

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

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

*  *  * 

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

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

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

*  *  * 

Have you learned from someone unexpected?

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

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

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

September 2020

Hindsight is 2020.

What does that mean to you? 

I never thought I’d be saying it means, “I’m sick and tired of 2020 and want it to just go away. I want to put it in my hindsight. Behind me. In the past. Finito.” Like Jo Dee Messina’s lyrics: 

Bye Bye love
I’ll catch you later
Got a left foot down on my accelerator
And the rear view mirror torn off
I ain’t never lookin’ back 
and that’s a fact

Is there anyone who doesn’t want to shut the door on this year and move to something better? Between deadly viruses, continued violence against people of color, unrelenting fires, hurricanes, economic hardship, forced isolation and the end of the life we knew it, there’s a lot to move past.

There is also a lot to move toward. In fact, when we let the past define us and the present confine us, the obstacles blind us. 

I want to see my way into a better place.

In the “perfect clarity” gleaned from my 2020 experience thus far, I’m using the rest of this year as motivation to move. My move isn’t physical – it’s mental.  

*  *  * 

I’m shifting my focus from hindsight to foresight, and I’m doing it by gaining clarity on three things:  vision, values and volition. 

• Vision will help me be really specific about what I want my future to look like 
• Values will be the measuring stick for my choices and a reminder of my priorities 
• Volition will be my ability to make it happen 

*  *  * 

This focus on foresight has worked for me before.

In the financial crisis of 2008-2010, I found myself being ousted from my last CEO job, battling a health crisis and facing an empty nest. While I could have wallowed in what was done to me and what I lost, I decided to move past my personal year from hell and to visualize the best possible new reality. 

The first thing I did was to think about what I did well and what fired me up. Entrepreneurial leadership was something I couldn’t get enough of. Creativity and fashion were signatures for me, and an important part of my self-expression. And philanthropy, beginning with my efforts to help support a school in Uganda*, had more recently captured my heart. The idea of being part of a movement to make lives better for others became soul-sustaining. 

In 2010, what potential new career opportunity contained all of those elements for me? 

Tom’s Shoes. 

Tom’s was one of the first sustainable fashion brands that had philanthropy as a core part of its business model. It was growing like gangbusters, fashion-forward and provided a win-win outcome for buyers and for recipients of its shoe donations. Wearing Tom’s shoes was a statement about the wearer’s commitment to giving back.

I told everyone I knew that I wanted to be the “Chief Shoe Giver of Tom’s Shoes”. It was my way of putting a new stake in the ground, declaring my intentions and asking for help. 

When you say something out loud and say it often enough, people tend to think of you when that thing (or something like that thing) comes along.

Still, I was shocked when my dear friend Thomas Tighe (who runs Relief International) called me to say, “Anne, you won’t believe the job listing that came across my desk this morning.” 

Sure enough, Blake Mycoskie, the Founder of Tom’s Shoes, was looking for someone to help him run his company. 

*  *  *  

Wouldn’t it be perfect if I said I got that job and started my next life chapter? 

Yes, it would, but that’s not what happened. 

What DID happen is that while I was telling everyone about the perfect job for me and hoping to get leads, I had developed such a strong vision, such clarity on my values and such volition to make a difference that I had already started finding another outlet for my entrepreneurship, creativity and service. Before I learned about the job opportunity at Tom’s, I had given birth to Parlay House. Glinda would have said, “The power was always within you, my dear.”

What turned out to be “perfect” for me was not that specific job, but gaining the clarity and conviction to bring something new to life that benefitted me as well as my community.

As you close the door on 2020, where will you be moving?

I see these next three months as a perfect time to put firm stakes in the ground about our individual and collective vision, values and volition. 

Visualizing a better personal future may help shift the balance to contain more of the initiatives that resonate and feel fulfilling. It might also give us clarity about what we can let go of and leave in the hindsight of 2020.

I hope you’re with me in ripping off those rearview mirrors, leaving 2020 in the dust and moving on to opportunities we have only begun to envision.

*  *  * 

What are your 2020 Headlines? 

Share it Small: As you gain clarity, write your own headlines rather than relying on the old news. ”Woman Single-Handedly Gets 10 Friends to Vote” and “You’re Never Too Old To Start Something New” are ways to validate your thinking and remind you that these positive small steps are actually big news. 

Share it Big: Tell five people you don’t know well what your headlines are. Share them publicly as a way of saying, “Help me and hold me accountable.” I can’t think of much that is more empowering than talking about how we are putting stakes in the ground and helping shape both our individual and collaborative destiny.

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 continue to be in awe of the work being done by the iHUG Foundation. 

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.

March 2020

 

I’ve had a number of responses to this newsletter from people who feel that human interactions aren’t always as positive and supportive as I report. A couple of recipients have even asked to be removed from the list because my view of the world feels like a disconnect for them. “Women don’t lift each other up,” they told me. “In fact, we spend most of our time trying to tear each other down.”

This insight really made me stop and think. Was it true for me?

I realized that while most of my friends are supportive and kind, there are still a few people in my life who seem to get joy from making it much harder for me to be open and vulnerable. They try to diminish my joy, detract from my story and create divides between us.

I want to bite into why we bite each other. 

*  *  *

Arielle Fuller, Parlay House’s Chief Relationship Officer, noted that this pattern of women being each other’s worst enemies reminds her of rotting fruit. “When one little tangerine in the bowl starts to mold or rot, the destruction quickly spreads to the nearby, healthy fruit. It doesn’t just pass on the rotting: it leaves all of the surrounding fruit in a weakened and less appealing situation.”

What can we do to stop the spread of destruction? 

*  *  *

Step One: Be Self-Aware

When we feel “less than” or have self-doubts, other people may inadvertently trigger us. Their apparent confidence or happiness is a reminder that we’re not feeling the same way ourselves. We might lash out at them because they remind us of our own pain.

Brene Brown has said that people who tear down others are often struggling with something similar themselves. If they feel bad about their body, they are more likely to be hyper-critical of someone else’s body than they would if they were happy with their own. They grab hold of others to try to pull them into the same sinkhole that’s trapping them.

Step Two: Don’t Hide Your Hurt

For me, the best way to combat this behavior is to acknowledge that the behavior upset me. When someone “bites” me with judgment, criticism or aggression, I literally say “ouch.”

That “ouch” validates my pain and acknowledging it is my first step in healing. It’s also an opening for the person who hurt me to know how I felt and to course-correct if the insult was unintentional. Importantly, that “ouch” is also an opportunity for me to self-reflect to think about whether I was their trigger in a way I could change.

Step Three: Look Behind the Hurt

If I feel hurt by someone close to me, I might probe to see whether there is something going on that is causing her to lash out. If I don’t know her well enough to ask, I assume that something about my actions was a trigger for her, opening up her own wounds. Acknowledging that her reaction might not be directly about me frees me to feel empathy for her rather than pain for myself.

Finally:  Stop the transactional assumptions about happiness, confidence and success.

Many of these “bites” happen because we are competing instead of collaborating. We assume that there are winners and losers. Success and Failure. A bigger share of the pie and…

The fabulous truth in this day and age is that the size of our shared pie is growing, and more for me doesn’t mean less for you. And vice versa. The more we lift each other to new achievements, opportunities, and experiences, the greater the pie grows. Another woman’s gain is no longer our loss. Another woman’s gain is actually a gain for us all.

How do you like them tangerines?

*  *  *

Do you Parlay?

Share It Small:  The next time someone seems to be tearing you down, practice responding with an “ouch.”  The best-case scenario is that you get an apology or can course-correct in a way that preserves the relationship.

Share It Big:  Fight the “Scarcity Mindset” by reminding the women in your life that we can grow opportunities for all of us rather than fighting to split the existing pie. Remind them at work, on-line and at home. We are stronger when we lift each other.

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.