the

blog

an epic life

Posts Tagged ‘purpose’

How I Got Big Calves, and Other Interesting Insights

October 29th, 2019

This story begins with a fond childhood memory.

When I was a young girl, I often hung out with Allyson, a friend from my neighborhood. We spent summer days wandering and playing outside and being creative. One very fond memory I have is of all the times I used to go to Allyson’s house. It would be a hot summer day and my recollection is that her mom would often be ironing. This was good news for us because it meant that Allyson’s mom was otherwise encumbered. It was also advantageous that her mom kept the curtains closed in an effort to keep the house cool. The closed curtains were key to concealing our shenanigans.   

Hi there! (Photo by Christy Chin)

Allyson and I would take a step ladder from the side of the house and we’d situate it by the trunk of her parents’ green Toronado, which was parked in their driveway. I’d climb the ladder and tumble into the car’s trunk. Allyson closed the trunk and would then drive the car in and out of the driveway, over and over again. I’m not sure which one of us had the most fun but I can assure you we both had a lot of fun doing this because we did it often, and I always climbed into the trunk willingly and without coercion or bribery.  I don’t know how old we were but we must have been young, and little, if I needed a stepladder to climb into the car’s trunk.

Why am I sharing such a memory? I share it because we can gain valuable insights while reflecting on how we chose to spend our free time during childhood.

People hire me to be their coach for a variety of reasons. One of the most common is when a person is contemplating a career change. They are burned out or their work and/or leadership role lacks meaning. They aren’t feeling fulfilled and they want to make a change, but they aren’t certain of the new path.  

When working with someone who wants to reinvent himself/herself,  I facilitate a lot of guided self-reflection. Among other things, I like to ask how they spent their free time when they were a kid. This isn’t an original idea, but rather a strategy that is often used in an effort to mine for passions and purpose. In fact, I know many people who are fulfilled in their work and when asked how they spent their free time during childhood can indeed see connections between their current work role and their childhood interests.

Lately, I’ve been recalling how I spent my own free time as a kid. And it’s all so telling. 

I don’t think riding in the trunk of Allyson’s parents’ Toronado relates directly to my current calling, but I do think it speaks to my sense of adventure and to my mischievous nature. It’s fair to say that sometimes, especially when I’m with my girlfriends, I like to just barely stay out of trouble. I also like to create fun out of any task and perhaps that’s what I was doing when Allyson proposed putting me in the trunk. LOL. I also like amusement park rides so there’s that too. Her driveway had a steep curb so it was a pretty exciting ride in the trunk, and we didn’t have to pay for tickets or stand in line to get the adrenaline rush. 

One of my earliest childhood memories is from an afternoon when I was sitting next to my Dad on our front step. We were watching as my older sister, Alicia, and (seemingly) all of the other neighbor kids, raced on their bikes up and down our street, and I wanted in on the action.

I asked–nagged–my Dad if I could get a bike and join them, to which my Dad said something to the effect of, “When you’re six you can get a bike and do it too.” I don’t share this to criticize my Dad, who has been my biggest champion and an important influence in my life and my work, but rather to suggest how his response would instruct and inform my future and my life. It  was the beginning of my wanting to be able to do things when I wanted to and when I had the capability, rather than when someone else said I could. It was the beginning of my penchant for leveling up.

Speaking of nagging, my Dad used to call me “Little Miss Nag.” He did it lovingly, and it may seem like not a nice thing to call your kid, but I didn’t mind it. He was of course referring to my ability to persuade. If I wanted something bad enough, I could really put the sell on, and with enough nagging, I was often able to close the deal. In fact, even though I don’t like selling, I’m pretty good at it. My first and only career job was when I was fresh out of Journalism school and I was hired to be an advertising sales manager at The Missoulian, Missoula, Montana’s daily newspaper. I did well in that role. My next three work roles included a lot of sales and although I grew to not like selling, it was something that I was good at and that seemed to come naturally. No doubt a benefit of all the experience I had from nagging my parents as a child.

Another memory I have with Allyson is all of the puppet shows she and I performed at her house. We sure had some good times together! We’d not only host and perform puppet shows, we marketed them. I remember designing posters with crayons, and Allyson and I would hang them all over the neighborhood and even go door to door, marketing our puppet shows. This is an obvious connection because marketing has been an aspect of every one of my jobs and definitely a skill I utilized often in starting and running and growing our first company, Yellowstone Journal Corporation, and continue to use with my current company, Epic Life Inc.

I also remember putting on presentations in our backyard. I remember one time our family had spent the afternoon at Louis Lake. I brought back a jar full of water with some tadpoles I had caught. I marketed the presentation to our neighborhood. Many neighborhood kids showed up and as I was presenting about tadpoles, they were restless and kept interrupting and asking what refreshments I was going to serve them. I remember going inside to round up some snacks, and all I could find were Saltine crackers, which I served along with cups of water. They devoured them and in the process, suffered through my educational presentation about tadpoles. This makes me laugh. The connection of course is that I am a keynote presenter even if I’m no longer presenting about tadpoles. And it’s no wonder that I appreciate and love it when I present to an organization or conference and there is catered food provided, and sometimes even an open bar, during my presentation.

I also have many fond memories of my “ventures” with one of my closest childhood friends,  Tracy Chapman. Not the singer Tracy Chapman, but a different and very special Tracy Chapman who unfortunately passed away far too early some years ago.

Tracy and I used to “polish” rocks and display them on a TV Tray on her driveway. (By polished, I mean we ran water from a garden hose over the rocks to make them look shiny.) We sold them for 25 cents each. Our venture was quite successful. Charitable adults from the neighborhood always bought our polished rocks, just enough to fund our snack needs. After reaching our sales goal, we’d close down shop, and Tracy and I would take the revenue generated and walk to the nearby Lander Golf Course clubhouse and spend it all on junk food and soda. We’d sit on the curb, enjoying the fruits of our labor while talking about boys and other things that young girls talked about in those days. I don’t sell polished rocks and thankfully, I don’t eat junk food like I did then, but perhaps this experience was a clue to the entrepreneurship that would become the way I have made a living for the past 25-plus years.

I also remember promoting and performing dance routines with the Wolfe girls. Shelly, Wina, and Kendra Wolfe were my sisters’ and my best friends for much of our childhood. We were all in AAU Swimming at the time, so we’d hold “talent shows” for our parents and their friends. We’d wear our matching swimsuits and perform carefully choreographed dance routines to songs like Chic’s Le Freak, Foreigner’s Hot Blooded, Ray Charles’ Hit the Road Jack, and other fantastic hits. (And, you guessed it, I recall providing Saltine crackers and cups of water for those shows too. I’m not sure why Saltine crackers were a staple, but they very obviously were.) Well, these dance shows are fond memories for me but I can’t see the connection between dance shows and any work I’ve done or am doing. Thank goodness. But I do love to dance, and Jerry and I often go to concerts and love dancing to EDM and reggae so maybe there’s a connection there. And of course these did include being in the front of the room, similar to when one gives a keynote presentation.

Growing up, I loved playing basketball. So much so that I was lucky enough to win a full-ride Division I basketball scholarship to the University of Montana after graduating from high school in 1986. Even though I blew out a knee my first season, then rode the bench and it eventually didn’t work out for me, it was one of the most informative experiences of my early adult life. And how it all came to be is insightful.

I was thinking about it the other day when I was reflecting on how literally, in a single moment, a person can make what seems like a trivial decision but as a result of it, one’s path takes a completely new course. I was in 6th grade and we were at recess. Until then I never had any experience or desire to play basketball. I don’t think I ever even noticed the basketball courts despite walking over them often. One day, during recess, a girl named Jackie Massey asked me if I wanted to shoot hoops and I said Yes.

It wasn’t long and I was sinking some shots. Instantly I was in love. (Thank you, Jackie!) I not only played basketball through junior high and high school and into college, but I recall spending free time on the weekends shooting hoops on Lander’s various school playgrounds with my best friends at the time, Tina Campbell and Jody (Tann) Thompson. We spent hours of our free time shooting hoops, while playing tunes by The Cars and Gino Vanelli and Bon Jovi on our boombox and drinking too much Mountain Dew, in between our games of P.I.G. and 21. If not for Jackie asking me to shoot hoops with her that day, I almost certainly wouldn’t have attended the University of Montana and I wouldn’t have lost my scholarship, both things that continue to inform my life. If not for discovering my love for basketball when I was 10, my life would be very different and I’m glad it isn’t because I love my life so much.

I have so many memories from the Winters of my childhood. For about 15 years, cross country skiing has been my favorite winter sport. When I think about my earliest memories of cross country skiing, a particular memory comes to mind. 

My grandparents (my mom’s parents) were visiting from Iowa, and my parents thought it would be fun to take them cross country skiing up Sinks Canyon. We went to the only store at the time in Lander that rented ski gear and they didn’t have skis or boots that fit my younger sister, Amber, or I. So my Dad figured Amber and I would just make do using our downhill skis. And boots. Yes, you read that correctly. I went country skiing in my downhill  boots and skis. 

I have pretty big calf muscles (I appreciate their strength but not their size), and there is no question that I developed them in those one or two cross country ski outings, while wearing my downhill ski boots. The memory also provides some insight into my belief that we can go farther than we think we can, and that I value working hard. 🙂

When I was 8 years old, we moved “to the country” (from town to Squaw Creek), and one of my new best friends was Erica Davis. I adored her. She lived about a mile up the road from us and I’ll never forget the first time I was allowed to ride my bike alone on the “highway” to Erica’s house. Erica and I spent full days exploring the outdoors, daring to catch and hold horny toads, and playing the red dirt and on the red rocks. We also spent hours together in the car as our parents took turns carpooling us to our various activities. During that time, Erica’s family was generous in inviting me to join them on a trip to Santa Fe and Albuquerque and other great destinations and I’ll never forget how my love of travel was sparked.

I also remember all the weekends our family spent going to Yellowstone and Grand Teton national parks, as well as up the Loop Road, to Louis Lake in particular, and also throughout the Oregon Buttes and Red Desert regions. We’d go on long drives and go on lots of picnics.  I am certain that these outdoor experiences and adventures inspired my love for Wyoming and my great love for the outdoors and picnics, never-ending “exploratory” road trips, and my love for family adventure.

One of my biggest champions and encouragers when it comes to writing is my dear friend, Jamie. As young girls in elementary school in Lander, Wyoming, we were the best of friends. I was a prolific letter-writer (and note-passer) in grade school. Admitting I was a note-passer sure reveals how old I am, doesn’t it? Today’s kids, including my own, and including kids for many years now, have likely not passed notes in school because they don’t write notes. I’m guessing a similar act is being performed in classes but letter-writing and note-passing have probably been replaced by sharing Instagram and funny videos on one’s cell phone.  

Anyway, Jamie was the recipient of most of my notes. Jamie and her family moved away from Lander for a few years before returning, and we remained close in high school. But after high school, as friendships so often do, ours faded and we lost touch. Some 30 years passed before we’d reunite. Lucky for me, Jamie stumbled across some marketing on Facebook for my Epic Women program, which she signed up for in 2014. 

It has been one of the greatest blessings of my life to reconnect with Jamie so many years later, particularly during this “midlife” stage of our lives. Among other things, Jamie and I share a love of reading. We often gift each other books, and her recommendations are always good ones. In one of the books she gave to me, she wrote the quote, “Make new friends, but keep the old; Those are silver, these are gold.” In my friendship with Jamie, I indeed have struck both silver and gold.

When we reconnected, Jamie reminded me of our earlier days. She reminded me how I dreamed of being a Writer during my early years, and that I’d often include sample stories for her to read in the notes I wrote and passed to her during class.  Although I graduated from college with a Journalism degree and frequently used it as a publisher for a community newspaper in Winner, SD, from 1992-1994, and while reporting on travel- and Yellowstone Park-related news and features for our two magazines and website when we had Yellowstone Journal Corporation and YellowstonePark.com, I had forgotten about my original, childhood dream of wanting to be a Writer. Rekindling my friendship with Jamie has rekindled my dream of wanting to be a Writer. In Jamie, I have a champion who encourages me to write and thinks of me as a Writer. 

Currently, I’m writing a book. Actually, there are two books I’ve been “working” on–the one I need to write and the one I want to write. But that’s a different story. My point here is that Jamie is holding me accountable to my goal of writing a book. The fact that our friendship goes back to my earliest days of writing stories is significant.

I could go on and on, but I’ve already written too many words. If you’ve read this far, I thank you. It means a lot to me.

As I wrap this blog post up,  it occurs to me that friends and family have been an important part of my early life and experiences. I’m grateful for their role in the life I lead today. It’s also clear that I loved spending time outside and being creative, things that are big parts of my work and my life today.

I encourage you to think of your own childhood and how you chose to spend your free time as a child. See if there are insights or connections you can make with your current work and life. Consider if incorporating some of your childhood passions into your life might enrich it.

Nothing is a Waste of Time

October 17th, 2017

Time. None of us knows how much of it we’ll have. I don’t know about you, but I’m working hard not to squander mine.

I don’t squander time mostly due to a mantra I started using several years ago. The mantra is: Nothing is a waste of time. I have used and lived by this mantra for the last several years, and it has made all the difference in my life. I wanted to share it, but I was too lazy to write a blog post about it, so I made a short video blog:

Imagine You Have 1 Year Left. How Will You Live It?

August 12th, 2012

About a month ago, our 5-year-old son, Fin, asked me: “When a man is old, is that his last age?”

His question was so profound I didn’t immediately know how to answer it.

Of course all of our lives are of different lengths. Unfortunately, I’ve lost friends and loved ones of all ages.

Howdy.

I love books. I read and read and read. Lately, my favorite author is Cheryl Strayed, author of one of my now-all-time favorite books, Wild. Strayed is a wonderful writer, and I feel a kinship to her when reading her words and experiences.

Recently, I finished (more like devoured!) her latest book, Tiny Beautiful Things. In a chapter called “The Obliterated Place,” a 58-year-old man writes to Strayed (“Sugar”) about the loss of his 22-year-old son, his only child, who was killed four years earlier by a drunk driver. He asks how to go on, and how to be human again.

In her response to the man, Strayed (“Sugar”) mentions a remark her own young son made that is, coincidentally, similar to the aforementioned question Fin asked me. (“We don’t know how many years we have for our lives…”)

Strayed, when she was just 22, lost her mother. She writes how deeply sorry she is for the man’s loss, and among other things, writes: “It has been healing to me to accept in a very simple way that my mother’s life was forty-five years long, that there was nothing beyond that. There was only my expectation that there would be — my mother at eighty-nine, my mother at sixty-three, my mother at forty-six. Those things don’t exist. They never did.”

“Sugar” continues by encouraging the man to think: “My son’s life was twenty-two years long… There is no twenty-three.”

The words and sharing, both the man’s letter, and Strayed’s (Sugar’s) response, are poignant. Reading it broke me open, and has caused me to think, often, of Strayed’s wisdom reminding us that any thought we have about the length of our lives is an expectation, not a certainty.

So, to the point of this blog post… Imagine, for a moment, that your life has only one more year in it.

What changes would you make? Who would you choose to experience your time with? How would you be? What would you say?

These are questions to live by. Just in case.