The title of this blog is a favorite quote from the late Joseph Campbell.
It is difficult and painful to experience the darkness in our lives. It’s easier–and feels “safer”–to avoid it. But in daring to enter the cave and grapple with its darkness, we may finally gain the ability to be free.
“Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms—to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.” –Viktor Frankl, Man’s Search for Meaning
First, I want to say how sorry I am to any of you who have suffered the loss of a loved one, or loved ones, as a result of the COVID-19 coronavirus. I can only imagine the pain you’re experiencing and I’m so very sorry.
And second, if you’re sick with coronavirus or know someone who is, I’m keeping you in my heart and thoughts during this time and pray for your recovery.
Also, I want to thank all of the health care workers and first responders who are on the very front lines, working to help people fight and hopefully overcome the virus. There are no words that can adequately express my gratitude and admiration for these compassionate humans, who when they go to work risk not only their own lives but the lives of their families.
One of the most heartbreaking realities of coronavirus is that when a person dies from coronavirus, he/she dies alone. For their own safety–to protect their own health and the health of all they come into contact with, loved ones are not allowed to see them or be with them at their end. I am so thankful for the many compassionate health care workers who are often there to hold the hand of and/or sit alongside the person as he or she takes their last breath and passes. Can you imagine what a difference that must make? It is heartwrenching to think of a loved one dying alone. These health care workers who are with them when they pass are truly Angels.
Thank you to all of the “essential” workers who are risking their health by going to work so life may still go on for those of us who get to remain in the safety of our homes.
Speaking of working for the greater good, the time has come for us to take responsibility for one another. I hope you’ll read this blog post that includes important wisdom from writer Sebastian Junger.
I know I am not unique when I say the COVID-19 pandemic has disrupted every aspect of my life. In fact, everyone I know, coach and work with is being impacted in a myriad of ways by the pandemic. And in this story, I’ll share several examples from a wide range of people I know to illustrate how the pandemic is challenging–and teaching–us. Maybe you’ll relate to what others are experiencing.
Personally, if I were to choose two words to describe how I’m feeling as a result of the COVID-19 pandemic, the words would be worried and disoriented. What I’m being reminded of, and learning as a result of my worry and disorientation is that in life there is so much we can’t control. I need to do my part to help the public and to focus on the things I can control. I need to thoughtfully respond, rather than mindlessly react, to all that unfolds during the pandemic. These things are easier said than done, but I’m trying.
As a life and leadership coach, I’m always in search of powerful questions that I can ask people. I love coming up with questions that require reflection and that are likely to provide insights. We learn more from our challenges and hardships than we do from our successes. I have tried to remember this personally by asking myself, whenever I’m struggling through a challenge, “What will I make of this?” Doing this has been a difference-maker in my life because it turns the process of struggle into something constructive. It forces me to look for the lessons and silver linings (ponies) during a time when I could easily default to playing the victim and be a complainer who looks for and finds, all the things that are unfair, hard and/or wrong. But don’t just take my word for it. The late Viktor Frankl survived three years in Nazi concentration camps. After surviving that experience he wrote a book, Man’s Search for Meaning, which has been one of the most influential books I’ve read. In it, Frankl reminds us that no matter how bad our circumstances are, we have the power and ability to choose how we will respond to them. Having this ability saved Frankl’s life.
In that spirit, I’ve been asking family, friends, coaching clients and acquaintances a variety of questions, but the following two are my favorites at this stage of the pandemic:
What’s the most difficult thing you’re experiencing as a result of the COVID-19 pandemic? And, what are you learning from the difficulty?
Many people have been generous enough to share their responses to these questions with me, and I’ve included their responses below. NOTE: I included many of the contributions, but couldn’t fit them all, so if you shared your responses with me and they aren’t included in this blog post, I’m sorry. Please know it’s because I couldn’t add any more to this already-too-long post.
(By the way, I encourage you to ask these same questions of yourself and those in your families and circles of friends. Reflecting on and discussing these questions will help you to be intentional and optimistic during what is otherwise a challenging and uncertain time for all of us.)
Kathy, Lander, WY: Kathy said the most difficult thing she is experiencing during the COVID-19 pandemic is knowing that she’s part of the at-risk population, which means she is among the 20% that could end up in the hospital if she contracts the virus. A mother, she said the thought of death doesn’t scare her as much as the thought of leaving her children without their mom. “As a mom, this is one of the most terrifying prospects you can face,” she said, adding, “I was faced with this recently when I went through breast cancer treatment.” She said during her cancer treatments, she was too tired and busy to get her affairs in order. Now she has the time so she’s doing just that and she said it will help her sleep better at night. As a result of her low immunity, Kathy has been quarantined from my children for a month, which is very difficult. “I keep seeing families walking around the neighborhood and photos on Facebook of families playing games together. I miss my children so much. When times are scary I like the comfort of them sleeping under the same roof.” She said she also misses hugs. However, these difficulties are reminding and teaching her that she’s not in control. “We can hope for the best and prepare for the worst, the rest is up to God. I wake up every day excited and happy that I am here,” she said.
Tina, Rifle, CO: Tina’s daughter works in health care and she worries about her safety. Tina said it is also hard to not be near her mom, who lives alone, during this concerning time. This difficulty is teaching her to breathe deeply, think positive thoughts and pray, and to trust and allow others to step in to help where/when she can’t.
Julie, Lander, WY:The hardest thing for Julie is the uncertainty about what’s going to happen. A middle school principal, she has had to develop an online learning system in short order. She wants to make sure her students can adapt and continue to learn with the new format for learning. She said she misses seeing students and staff and is constantly wondering if they are all okay. Julie added that she’s worried about her sister, who works in healthcare, and her mother, who lives by herself. “I have never been much of a phone person but I have learned that I am enjoying reaching out to family and friends to connect,” she said.
Mark, Lander, WY: Mark, a pastor, said the hardest thing for him during this pandemic is not being able to help more people in more ways. He said the difficulty of not being able to be of more help to more people is teaching him patience and persistence.
Judi, Lander, WY: Her biggest challenge is missing her children and grandchildren and not being able to with them during this concerning time. Her daughter lives in Amsterdam, and her son and his family live on the East Coast. She dreams of getting in her old, high mileage Prius, laying out the back seat to make a very uncomfortable bed, doing a parking lot pick up of groceries at her local market, and heading to the East Coast where she’d quarantine herself for 14 days and then move in with her son and his family. Then, post-pandemic, she’d catch the first flight available to visit her daughter in Amsterdam. She is grateful her mother is near here through this and they recently celebrated a socially-distanced 92nd birthday party for her mom’s husband. The positive impact of the pandemic is it is helping her to get a more clear picture of what she wants her life to look like in the future. It has confirmed for her that the most important thing she wants to do post-pandemic is to spend quality time with her kids and grandkids while they’re still young. She hopes to spend a big part of next winter on the East Coast, going to her grandkids programs, swim meets, etc.
Anne, Lander, WY: Anne said it’s frustrating and hard to not be able to find toilet paper, flour, and yeast. She added the uncertainty of when the pandemic will be behind us is particularly hard. Anne said before the pandemic she considered herself mentally strong. Now, she’s not so sure. “It feels like I’m on a plane (I don’t like flying) that has turbulence and there is no arrival time. I can’t just tell myself to stick it out for another 30 minutes and then it will be over because, in all reality, we don’t know how long this will last,” she said. One of the things this difficult time is teaching Anne is to have more empathy for those who live in poverty and are unable to get their most essential needs fulfilled during “normal” times. And, she added, the silver linings are a slower pace and time together as a family. She is hoping this experience will inspire us as a society to re-think the education model and the pace at which we live.
Gerta, Troy, MI: Gerta said the most difficult thing she is experiencing is being near the end of her pregnancy. Her baby is due in about three weeks but could arrive any day. She said her support system is limited to her husband (who’s been great), “but a gal needs her mother and her best friends, too,” she said. Only her husband will be allowed in the delivery room, and her mother likely won’t get to hold her first granddaughter for who knows how long. In addition, Gerta said she worries about bringing a baby into a contaminated world, and the associated risk gets the best of her some days. She added that she has a new appreciation for things she took for granted before the pandemic–simple things, such as going out for dinner, that she is now not able to enjoy with her husband. As a result, at 39 weeks pregnant, Gerta is cooking three meals a day. “We’re taking all these measures with our family’s best interests in mind, but it doesn’t make it easier. I have learned, though, that what really matters is our loved one’s health and safety,” she said. Gerta added that seeing her parents on FaceTime has never made her so happy, and hearing a friend’s voice and that they are well, has never felt more fulfilling. “And waking up every morning with my husband being able to work from home and be safe, has never meant so much as it does now,” she said.
Amanda, Saratoga, CA: Amanda said she is sad. “I am absolutely heartbroken for my daughter. She’s 17 and has worked so hard since middle school and throughout high school to maintain a 4+ GPA and was looking forward to all the capstone celebrations of her teenage years. In a matter of weeks, she has had her entire world collapse—her last competition season was cancelled, no senior rally, no prom, no graduation or grad night party, no senior trip, and she will not go back to school or have any closure at all on her time spent in high school.” Her daughter can’t even see her friends for support through all of this, and that is hard. Amanda added that her daughter is in the process of deciding which college she’ll attend in the fall, and yet is unable to travel and make any college campus visits, not to mention there is a lurking doubt as to whether or not she’ll even be able to move into the freshman dorms or if she’ll start college via remote learning. “What am I learning? I’m not there yet,” said Amanda. “I’m just so sad and sad for what she’ll never be able to experience from a very important time in her youth.”
Leann, Lander, WY:Leann shared that during the pandemic, she has been struggling with her lack of control and the loss of everyday freedom of choice. The feeling of no control was amplified recently when an extended family member of Leann’s tested positive for Coronavirus. She said people have always been important to her, and now, with social distancing constraints in place, she values her relationships even more. She is learning from these difficulties, though, and one of the things she’s learning is to be more patient and to slow down. She is also communicating in different, and additional ways, with family and friends. She is finding that her anxiety about the lack of control brought forth by COVID-19 is lessened when she talks with other people because she is reminded of, and finds comfort in, the fact none of us is alone in this. She also says she appreciates the sharing of thoughts and prayers for one another.
Alan, Malibu, CA: Alan said until the COVID-19 pandemic, he was using the beautiful time he had to connect with people, not only people in his existing circle but the new people in his life. He loves to travel and take in live music, and pre-pandemic, attended many shows, concerts and music festivals. He said at first having so much free time was hard, but he’s been intentionally investing the newfound time in exercise, spirituality and nature. He has replaced some of his passions, including skiing and Yoga, with online yoga, Zoom dance parties, online meditation, etc., which helps, “but is no substitute.” Alan said the people in his life and the connections he makes with new and interesting people are his oxygen. “It’s what I do to live,” he said. “These in-person experiences with others have been short-circuited by the pandemic, and I’m starving for them.” Alan said while the technology is great for staying in contact with the people in one’s life, “it feels like being on a ventilator for me.” As a result, he said he’s surviving, but not living like he’d like to be. He is looking forward to making up for lost time and seeing the people he misses once this pandemic is behind us.
Julie, Lander, WY:I heard the word “surreal” used to describe this time, and it fits my experience. Personally, I’m hardly affected. I love being home with my husband/best friend, walking or biking, working in the yard, discovering new food combinations from my stash of aspirational grocery purchases. Extra fun chats with our kids, silly or sweet, are a treat. But when I look beyond my own life and this present moment, the surreal hits: Desperate health care workers, sick people fighting for breath, small businesses facing insurmountable losses, and a country struggling to figure this crisis out in real time. And all I can do to help is stay home. “And part of the weirdness is that we are all well, but any of us could already have it (Coronavirus) and be gone in a short time,” she said, but never before have we had to confront or mortality so directly.
Diane, Lander, WY: Diane says living in rural Wyoming, where her nearest non-family neighbors are 2-1/2 miles away, makes social distancing workable. She said it’s helpful and comforting to go for drives, to see people in moving vehicles and on the other side of glass when she does need to enter a business. Diane said the pandemic is reminding her to be grateful for her home, the ability to heat her home, having electricity, having a washer and dryer, and the items that are necessary for her to cook, bake, eat and meet her most basic needs. This difficult and uncertain time is also helping her to learn to be more patient.
Jerry, Wichita, KS: Jerry said the most difficult part of the pandemic are the uncaring and non-understanding people who give him snide looks for wearing a mask and who are impatient with him when he tries to maintain 6’ of distance. Jerry said that in January, he learned he has Interstitial Lung Disease (more specifically, Idiopathic Pulmonary Fibrosis), which is progressive and causes fibrosis in his lungs, is irreversible and has no cure–other than lung transplants. He said any damage caused to his lungs by COVID-19 would probably be fatal. “What others don’t know is that my lungs are already damaged and a bug like COVID-19 can kill me,” he said. Jerry said it’s also difficult knowing that so many people are hoarding supplies that many people need and cannot obtain, such as toilet paper, alcohol, wipes, and masks. He said he’s learning to wash his groceries before putting them away, to carry and use alcohol wipes before touching his steering wheel, and he now uses a pencil or his pinky finger knuckle to touch buttons (elevators and keypads), and puts on gloves before getting out of the car to refuel, and above all, washes or sterilize his hands before touching his face. Lastly, Jerry said he’s learning which of his friends really understand his condition. They keep their distance, elbow bump as a greeting, and understand when he is wearing a mask or using oxygen. Jerry emphasized how grateful he is to have an understanding wife who is willing to run the day-to-day errands he cannot while keeping up with the paperwork necessary to manage his case.
Sharon, Lander, WY:Sharon said it’s difficult to name just a single hard thing during this time because the list of all that’s difficult is longer than one. She’s had to visit the babies in her family from a distance, despite the fact they live in the same small town. “How do you not touch and squeeze them?” she asked. Sharon, the “errand runner” during this time, worries about inadvertently passing deadly germs along to her 75-year-old husband who has Parkinson’s Disease. A teacher and educational facilitator, Sharon said she misses walking down the hallways to pick up students to bring them back to her room for reading instruction. “That freedom to freely move about amongst people is being terribly missed,” she said. Another challenge for Sharon is the likelihood that her summer trip will be cancelled. It is a dream trip that includes a hiking/biking trip with friends in Austria, in and around Salzburg, and a trip to London and Scotland with her husband. “I’ve been dreaming and arranging this trip since last October. It’s a thrill to page through guidebooks and online sites planning out an itinerary of dreams. Now, I keep wondering, ‘Will we get to go?;” And yet, if the trip is a Go, she is wondering about the safety of going. She said a friend recently caused her to question whether flying with 200+ people on an airplane for several hours, following this virus, will be sensible. Sharon said the pandemic is teaching her to think smaller and consider more local cycling and camping trips. “They do not have the same allure, at the moment, of traipsing up and down through the Austrian Alps or the Scottish Highlands, but my fantasies seem to be on hold for the time being. And it’s killing me.” But all that said, Sharon added that the difficulties of this time are helping her to appreciate even more the fact that she’s able to dream up and take such trips in the first place. She said that she thinks often about the billions of people on the planet who have far more to be concerned about than she does.
Pavani, Atlanta, GA: Pavani is the mother of two young children and she is finding it hard to not know when her parents will be able to cuddle her children again. She also worries about her sister, and brother-in-law, who are expecting their first child in the coming weeks. This is especially a concern because her brother-in-law is a doctor working with COVID patients. Pavani said she also wonders if humanity will learn something from this and snap out of its growth and consumption-based culture. She worries that the COVID experience could prompt a generation of fearful isolation. Pavani said there are some positive impacts the pandemic is having on her. She is getting better at slowing down and savoring simple moments in daily daily life such as cooking and cleaning. She’s able to find joy in these things now, whereas before the pandemic she viewed them as chores. Pavani said her relationships with her husband and children are stronger as a result of experiencing the pandemic together. COVID-19 is also reminding her that they’ll be okay, and even joyful, despite the fact they’re losing income as a result of her husband being furloughed at work. Pavani explained that the hardship is helping them gain clarity about what is most important, which will help to inform their life, post-pandemic. The whole experience “reaffirms that we can live differently and with less “stuff,” and that touch, love and community matter so much.,” she said.
Christine, Lander, WY: The most challenging part for Christine is the federal government’s response to the crisis, and living alone and missing being with “living, breathing humans.” She’s learning that she isn’t as much of an introvert as she thought was, and she’s realizing how much we need human connection. She added that while Zoom video calls help, they’re not the same as being with and connecting with people in person.
Lisa, Newberg, OR: Lisa works at a retirement/assisted living facility and she said the hardest part about the pandemic is the anxiety she has about potentially infecting someone at her place of work. “I worry that if one person there gets it, it will spread to many and I love all these people,” she said. She added that she’s nervous about the reverse happening as well. Because she is still required to go to work and can’t socially distance herself while at work, she worries she’ll get the virus and bring it home to her family. What she is learning and appreciating is how much the elderly people appreciate having someone who is there with them during this time when other visitors aren’t allowed.
Lori, Laramie, WY: Lori said that the hardest thing during the pandemic is missing the warmth and love and closeness of her dear friends that she experiences when she can physically be with them. She lives alone, and even though she’s an introvert, Lori said she misses her sisters and the feeling of deep connection she experiences when they can all be together. She also misses being able to go to the gym where she feels a sense of connection and community. Lori added that she feels heartbroken and concerned for all of those who are suffering directly from Coronavirus and the risks to their health and life. The challenges that come with the pandemic are teaching Lori “to slow down, enjoy the peace of silence, and to be grateful for every day I wake up feeling healthy, warm, well-fed, and happily, gainfully employed.”
Mike, Lander, WY:Mike is an owner and partner in Maven, an online retailer of outdoor equipment. Seemingly, Mike said, Maven is structured to deal with many of the issues that are now realities in this time of the COVID-19 pandemic. Most of Maven’s customers purchase from its website and they don’t have a large retail space, but “a small showroom in a small town,” said Mike. The company’s team of 7 people can do most of their work remotely from their homes, and the company’s 5,000-square-foot facility can house one person shipping and receiving and two or three of us working in a personal-distancing separate space. Despite this, Mike acknowledged that the company is taking some “big hits” as a result of the slowing down-to-stopping of its supply chain of goods from Japan and the Philippines. Add to that, Maven’s assembly facility in California shut down with less than 24 hours notice, removing their ability to make custom-built optics. In addition, the last month of the spring show season was completely cancelled, which shut down a very important revenue stream for Maven. So there is a lot of difficulty. Yet their store is not closed and they’re still open for business. And although the quarantine and stay-at-home orders provide more time for people to shop online, who has the funds? Mike acknowledged that given over 6 million people are now seeking unemployment, it’s less likely people will be spending money on non-essential products. He said he thinks the company will survive but wonders if that will be enough. The biggest challenge for Mike is being able to see the light and the opportunities. “I am a team person,” he said. “I thrive on a small group of people motivated by challenge, by a goal. We have a collaborative leadership team. Three guys who steer and drive our organization. We are team CEOs, making all the big decisions and setting the tone and flavor of our brand. In normal days we gather almost every day to put our brains together and make things happen. In our 6 years of business, we have grown to be a force in the outdoor industry. People know who we are and that we are different, unique and disruptive to the hunting optics market. Now this team is itself disrupted,” Mike explained, which is particularly hard for him given he gets motivation and drive from this team. “It is so hard to drive forward each day without our normal collaboration, adding, “Survive we can, but can we thrive?” All that said, Mike said he’s learning. Thanks to technology, he and his team are able to use Google Hangout, Zoom, and Skype to see each other’s faces and hear each other’s voices, which is most helpful. Before COVID-19 using technology for collaboration and meetings occurred rarely, but now Mike said it’s the new norm. “We have learned that we can still be a team and that we can still bring our brains together even when not in the same room,” he said. Mike added that he has learned they can keep their team and grow in deep, fundamental ways that will make them stronger on the other side of the pandemic. “That is our daily conversation, and that drives the actions of all the members of our small Maven team,” explained Mike. “We will be better because we have found a way to grow through this challenging time.”
Erica, Laramie, WY: Erica saidthe hardest thing about the pandemic is the overreaction of so many people and their hoarding of everyday essentials, especially when so many, particularly the elderly, are in need of the supplies. Erica said she also finds the media’s coverage and its tendency to focus on the negative, challenging. She wishes there would be more positive stories reported during this time. While she acknowledged the seriousness of this time, she wishes we’d hear more about the silver linings that are emerging as a result of COVID, such as more family time, sharing more meals as a family, and having more meaningful conversations with those we love. Erica added that this experience is an opportunity for her to lean more on her faith. “I gave myself to God and am trusting fully in his guidance.”
Gayla, Lander, WY:Gayla said losing her independence is one of the most difficult aspects of the pandemic. She said she’s used to doing things her way and doesn’t like feeling helpless or having to rely on other people. “Now I have my grocery shopping completed by a total stranger, which I am so grateful for.” She said in order to protect her husband’s health and hers, they are following all of the COVID-19 guidelines and it helps that their two daughters are making sure they’re not taking risks. As a teacher, Gayla said there are many challenges. As a result of the pandemic and stay-at-home instruction, students’ learning has moved online, and during the time of year when students typically start understanding and making sense of the concepts they’ve been learning. She said this is also the time of year when students are more mature, and she’s able to make more personal connections. She said it’s also more difficult, via online learning, to inspire students to complete their assignments and get them turned in on time. Gayla said mostly she’s concerned about students being out of school for so long and the struggles they may be having with a new way to attend school and learn. On the upside, Gayla said the technology is enabling her to connect with her students, and “I am able to reassure them in these uncertain times.”
Jason, Atlanta, GA: The most difficult thing for Jason about the pandemic is the social distancing and the resulting lack of in-person human interaction, “which is where I receive my energy,” he said. However, he added that the experience is making him appreciate multiple things like personal relationships, his freedoms, and the clarity it is providing about his life and how he spends his time.
Karen, Farson, WY: Karen says the most difficult part of this experience is missing her elderly parents and not being able to be with them, and her fears that a family member will get sick. Before COVID-19, Karen would travel to see and help her parents on a weekly basis. The hardship of not being able to help her elderly parents is making her appreciate the fact that both of her parents are still living and that she is able to help them on a regular basis (when we’re not living in a time like this.) She is also grateful for her sister and daughter and the help they’re able to provide for her parents.
Kathy, Casper, WY: Kathy said one of the most difficult aspects of this time is missing her child’s performances and events, including a once-in-a-lifetime high school choir trip with her daughter to Scotland that was canceled in late March. She is appreciating having more time at home with her family, and more time to love on her pets. Kathy said she hopes the pandemic will inspire people to work on mending any fractured relationships since a time like this drives home the importance of the people and relationships in our life. She said she hopes that we’re all learning the value of slowing down and to not be overscheduled. She also hopes people will waste less time watching TV and staring at their screens as one’s life passes by.
Michelle, Lander, WY:Michelle said she concurs with what others have mentioned for difficulties while living during this pandemic. She said there are many positives too. “We are resilient,” she said. “We are pulling together to be innovative. We have the time to appreciate the simple things. We are enjoying LOTS of specific family time. We have incredible opportunities that were never available before to be immediately in contact and virtually face-to-face with our loved ones, coworkers, leaders, educators, and medical providers. We see others who can work tirelessly for us in professions we may not have appreciated before, but now recognize their value. We are recognizing that we have needs that should be addressed for the long term spiritually, personally, neighborhood/community-wise, statewide, nationally and globally. We are recognizing the need to be introspective and self-reliant, while still contributing to others.” She added that despite COVID-19, the sun still sets and rises, and while Winter isn’t quite finished in Wyoming, Spring was sprouting in her garden last weekend and Summer is on the way. “I have Faith, Love, and Hope,” she said.
Susan, Novato,CA: Susan said she finds it hard to witness people who are disregarding the shelter-in-place and social distancing instructions since their actions put others at risk. She said she is discovering how much this lack of caring for humanity affects her. Susan added that she’s also learning that she may lack compassion for herself. “The world is a mirror,” she said.
Sharon, Tucson, AZ:Sharon misses the Christian experience of sharing Holy Week and Easter gatherings with her church family. She says she is social and the time that we’re in makes her realize how much she misses being able to share dinner with friends or to enjoy a patio chat with them. Since she can’t get together with friends, she is grateful for the walks she can enjoy in the warmth of Arizona during this unsettling time. Sharon added that she worries for our country and world, and is reminded by the difficulties of this time of how grateful she is for all of those who are on working on the “front lines of this war.”
Bralli, Lander, WY: Bralli said the hardest part of the pandemic was not being able to hug her daughter when she recently arrived home from Spain and requiring her daughter to self-quarantine alone for two weeks in order to protect the rest of their family. In addition, Bralli said it’s hard to watch people she loves go to the frontlines every day, putting themselves and their families at risk. The pandemic experience has taught her that “we ALWAYS need to appreciate those people we love.”
Holly, Lander, WY: The hardest part for Holly about the COVID-19 time is the worry and fear she is experiencing, and the loss of sleep that results. She misses her family, coworkers, and friends so much. What this difficulty is teaching her is to take it one day, or hour, or five minutes at a time and to remind herself that this too shall pass, and also, not take things for granted.
Rhonda, Golden, CO: Rhonda saidshe’s not normally an anxious person, but all of the uncertainty surrounding the pandemic is causing her anxiety. She is particularly concerned for her husband, who works in healthcare, and her daughter-in-law, who is pregnant. She is also missing the family that is not nearby. Rhonda said through the difficulties, she is learning to take a deep breath and trust that it will all be okay.
Walter, Lander, WY: Walt said the most difficult aspect of the COVID pandemic is tolerating the people who don’t think or behave as if the pandemic is real. For example, he said when he went to fetch his mail from his mailbox this morning and while doing so, he ran into another man. The man remarked to him that COVID-19 is a hoax. Walt said the man tried approaching to continue talking with him and Walt had to keep backing away to keep the six feet between them. Still, the man persisted and kept trying to approach him. Finally, Walt had to tell him to stop. Walt said the ignorance and actions of such people “will cause deaths!” He said he’s learning “that people will not believe anything that is contrary to their ill-held beliefs no matter how solid the facts are.”
Vickie, Lander, WY:The hardest thing for Vicki is finding a new routine. Vickie said she is having to push herself out of her comfort zone and the silver lining to this is it has opened her up to new opportunities. Before COVID, she would attend Yoga 2 times a week, but being required to stay at home has inspired her to get online and start doing Pilates and strength training. In addition, she’s taking more walks. This increased activity is a direct result of being required to stay home during COVID, and has inspired her to be not only more active, but also more resourceful than she was before.
Hal, Wichita, KS:Hals said the hardest thing about the pandemic is “sifting through various news media to determine what is true, what is utter BS, and what falls somewhere in the middle.” Another difficulty for Hal is “observing dishonesty, incompetence, and stupidity to the highest degree when many lives are in the balance, and understanding why seemingly intelligent people are buying and defending it for selfish reasons.” He said he’s learning the importance of voting and encouraging others to vote–especially young people, “whose world is being affected by what I feel are reckless, selfish criminals. I’m learning to accept my own views and not fret over what other people think of me.” To help relieve the anxiety he is experiencing, he adopted a 6-month-old kitten, Rusty, from a woman who lost her job and couldn’t afford to have the kitten fixed and vaccinated. Hal said the kitten reinforces the importance of caring, and “is warding off invisible zombies every night, and makes me thankful for what I have.”
Katie, Phoenix, AZ: Katie said she is struggling with the fact she has all this time that has been given to her and yet she can’t spend it visiting her mother, who lives in a different town. “It feels like a wasted opportunity,” she explained. COVID 19 is inspiring her to want to talk to her mom more often and to visit her more often once the pandemic is over. In addition to not being able to visit her mom right now, Katie said she misses the ability to go to the gym and that she doesn’t feel as mentally strong or healthy as she normally does. She shared that when she broke her leg a while back, she was sedentary for 4.5 months. When she made it through the rehabilitation of her knee, she was able to get back in top shape. “I have to remember that my body will recover from this, too,” she said.
Debbie, Casper, WY: Debbie said her biggest challenge has been watching others that are not taking this pandemic seriously. She has a daughter in the healthcare industry who is due to have a baby any day. Debbie is worried about her 12-year-old grandson, who is a leukemia survivor and currently has mono and asthma. Debbie is concerned for the elderly, who are so dear to her. “I continue to learn from them every day of my life,” she said. As a result of her concerns, Debbie said she and her family have been adhering to social distancing. “I could not live with myself if I was the reason for someone getting COVID-19,” she said. Debbie’s mantra is “Together we are stronger,” and she is optimistic that we’ll get through the pandemic, despite the economic downturn. But, she added, the key will be to care for one another.
Thank you for stopping by and for reading my blog. I’m wishing you and yours good health and optimism during this trying time.
Feel free to please contribute your own responses to the two questions, (What’s the most difficult thing you’re experiencing as a result of the COVID-19 pandemic? And, What is the difficulty teaching you?) in the comments or in an email you send to me.
“Humans don’t mind hardship. In fact, they thrive on it; what they mind is not feeling necessary. Modern society has perfected the art of making people not feel necessary. It’s time for that to end.” –Sebastian Junger
A few years ago, I read the fantastic book, Tribe: On Homecoming and Belonging, by Sebastian Junger. With the author’s permission, I’m excerpting the text from the book’s Introduction.
I am sharing this wonderful excerpt from Junger’s book now because by all indications, the time for taking responsibility for one another has arrived in the form of the COVID-19 pandemic.
The great opportunity for all of us during the hardship and uncertainty of the pandemic is that we are being called to care for and take responsibility for one another.
In the fall of 1986, just out of college, I set out to hitchhike across the northwestern part of the United States. I’d hardly ever been west of the Hudson River, and in my mind what waited for me out in Dakota and Wyoming and Montana was not only the real America but the real me as well.
I’d grown up in a Boston suburb where people’s homes were set behind deep hedges or protected by huge yards and neighbors hardly knew each other. And they didn’t need to: nothing ever happened in my town that required anything close to a collective effort. Anything bad that happened was taken care of by the police or the fire department, or at the very least the town maintenance crews. (I worked for them one summer. I remember shoveling a little too hard one day and the foreman telling me to slow down because, as he said, “Some of us have to get through a lifetime of this.”)
The sheer predictability of life in an American suburb left me hoping—somewhat irresponsibly —for a hurricane or a tornado or something that would require us to all band together to survive. Something that would make us feel like a tribe. What I wanted wasn’t destruction and mayhem but the opposite: solidarity. I wanted the chance to prove my worth to my community and my peers, but I lived in a time and a place where nothing dangerous ever really happened. Surely this was new in the human experience, I thought. How do you become an adult in a society that doesn’t ask for sacrifice? How do you become a man in a world that doesn’t require courage?
Those kinds of tests clearly weren’t going to happen in my hometown, but putting myself in a situation where I had very little control—like hitchhiking across the country—seemed like a decent substitute. That’s how I wound up outside Gillette, Wyoming, one morning in late October 1986, with my pack leaned against the guardrail and an interstate map in my back pocket. Semis rattled over the bridge spacers and hurtled on toward the Rockies a hundred miles away. Pickup trucks passed with men in them who turned to stare as they went by. A few unrolled their window and threw beer bottles at me that exploded harmlessly against the asphalt.
In my pack I had a tent and sleeping bag, a set of aluminum cookpots, and a Swedish- made camping stove that ran on gasoline and had to be pressurized with a thumb pump. That and a week’s worth of food was all I had with me outside Gillette, Wyoming, that morning, when I saw a man walking toward me up the on‑ramp from town.
From a distance I could see that he wore a quilted old canvas union suit and carried a black lunch box. I took my hands out of my pockets and turned to face him. He walked up and stood there studying me. His hair was wild and matted and his union suit was shiny with filth and grease at the thighs. He didn’t look unkindly but I was young and alone and I watched him like a hawk. He asked me where I was headed. “California,” I said. He nodded.
“How much food do you got?” he asked.
I thought about this. I had plenty of food—along with all the rest of my gear—and he obviously didn’t have much. I’d give food to anyone who said he was hungry, but I didn’t want to get robbed, and that’s what seemed was about to happen.
“Oh, I just got a little cheese,” I lied. I stood there, ready, but he just shook his head.
“You can’t get to California on just a little cheese,” he said. “You need more than that.”
The man said that he lived in a broken-down car and that every morning he walked three miles to a coal mine outside of town to see if they needed fill‑in work. Some days they did, some days they didn’t, and this was one of the days that they didn’t. “So I won’t be needing this,” he said, opening his black lunch box. “I saw you from town and just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
The lunch box contained a bologna sandwich, an apple, and a bag of potato chips. The food had probably come from a local church. I had no choice but to take it. I thanked him and put the food in my pack for later and wished him luck. Then he turned and made his way back down the on‑ramp toward Gillette.
I thought about that man for the rest of my trip. I thought about him for the rest of my life.
He’d been generous, yes, but lots of people are generous; what made him different was the fact that he’d taken responsibility for me. He’d spotted me from town and walked half a mile out a highway to make sure I was okay. Robert Frost famously wrote that home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in. The word “tribe” is far harder to define, but a start might be the people you feel compelled to share the last of your food with. For reasons I’ll never know, the man in Gillette decided to treat me like a member of his tribe.
This book is about why that sentiment is such a rare and precious thing in modern society, and how the lack of it has affected us all. It’s about what we can learn from tribal societies about loyalty and belonging and the eternal human quest for meaning.
It’s about why—for many people—war feels better than peace and hardship can turn out to be a great blessing and disasters are sometimes remembered more fondly than weddings or tropical vacations. Humans don’t mind hardship, in fact, they thrive on it; what they mind is not feeling necessary. Modern society has perfected the art of making people not feel necessary.
I want to say how sorry I am to any of you who have suffered the loss of a loved one, or loved ones, as a result of the COVID-19 coronavirus. I can only imagine the pain you’re experiencing and I’m so very sorry.
And second, some well-wishes…
If you’re sick with coronavirus or know someone who is, I’m keeping you in my heart and thoughts during this time and pray for your recovery.
And now, some gratitude…
I want to thank all of the health care workers and first responders who are on the very front lines, working to help people fight and hopefully overcome the virus. There are no words that can adequately express my gratitude and admiration for these compassionate humans, who when they go to work risk not only their own lives but the lives of their families.
One of the most heartbreaking realities of coronavirus is that when a person dies from coronavirus, he/she dies alone. For their own safety–to protect their own health and the health of all they come into contact with, loved ones are not allowed to see them or be with them at their end. I am so thankful for the many compassionate health care workers who are often there to hold the hand of and/or sit alongside the person as he or she takes their last breath and passes. Can you imagine what a difference that must make? I can hardly fathom the prospects of having a loved one die alone. These health care workers who are with them when they pass are truly Angels.
Also, I thank those of you who work in our nursing homes, assisted living homes, senior and retirement centers, hospice, etc., who right now are the only people our elderly get to be with during this pandemic while being the most vulnerable population when it comes to coronavirus.
I also want to thank all of the people and the organizations they work for–government, non-profit, private corporations, etc.–who are working to obtain and provide the equipment healthcare workers need in order to help the sick and save lives. We appreciate your service and efforts so much.
Thank you to teachers and professors and school administrators who have had to, in short order, develop online learning systems and are working tirelessly to provide their students with an effective method for learning and to be available however they can so their students feel supported during the pandemic and all the changes they’re experiencing as a result of the pandemic.
Thank you, also, to all the people and businesses who are not at home but out there working to provide essential items so that the rest of us can carry on our lives at home during this pandemic.
Thank you all who are struggling to pay their employees even as the life and future of their business are at risk.
And, finally, thank you to all of the people I have almost certainly, but inadvertently, missed or overlooked. There are so many of you who are Helpers who do your work quietly in the background. I’m sorry if I didn’t name you or your role specifically. Nevertheless, I thank you.
Hi! I hope you are healthy and well during this challenging and uncertain time.
It is easy to feel anxious and even hopeless during this COVID-19 public health crisis. It is impacting every aspect of our lives. But it is also a time when we see so much good in humanity. Thank you, more than I can say, to medical workers, doctors and nurses, first responders, and all who are helping our sick and keeping things going (while risking their own health and lives) during this difficult time. And for those of you who have lost loved ones to Coronavirus, I’m so very sorry for your loss.
The compassion and generosity by so many are cause for optimism. Here’s a short video I recorded a few days ago. I hope you’ll watch it and consider sharing it. Thanks for stopping by, and I wish you and the people you know and love good health and strength during this time.
It was March 2011, and I was on a flight from Denver to San Francisco. I was traveling to California for my final coaching course. An exhausted mother of three young sons, I couldn’t wait for the “me-time” the flight would provide. I wouldn’t squander it for anything. At the time, I was reading Unbroken, by Laura Hillenbrand, and I couldn’t wait to bury my head in the book for two solid hours.
After finding my window seat near the back of the plane, I sat with the book on my lap and my headphones on. I wasn’t actually listening to anything. Rather I wanted to send a signal to those around me that I was otherwise encumbered. As in, Please Do Not Disturb.
Soon the middle and aisle seat passengers–a man and woman–arrived and sat in their seats next to me. Once buckled in, the man to my left in the middle seat, greeted me with a friendly smile and Hello, and the woman in the aisle seat did the same. I reciprocated before returning to my book.
The man then asked me if I was traveling for work or fun. A little annoyed at the interruption, but wanting to be friendly, I said, “mostly for work.” I shared that I was going to my last coaching course but that I had also built in some fun. My husband would fly out to join me in a few days and we’d hike and make a quick trip to Napa. The man introduced himself as Kit and then introduced me to the woman in the aisle seat, his sister. Kit shared that they were going to San Francisco to visit their niece. It was a pleasant exchange but I really wanted to get back to my book so I put my headphones back on and returned to Unbroken.
A few minutes later, Kit asked me something else. I can’t recall exactly what because it was almost nine years ago, but I kindly answered, while closing my book and removing my headphones.
I love people, and I’m curious to a fault so I did what I often do when I meet someone new: I started asking questions. A lot of them. Before long, I knew that Kit lived in Colorado Springs, that he was divorced, semi-retired from a job that had something to do with computer chips, and that he had recently begun drawing on his Social Security. I learned that he was taking an art history class and that he had dreams of traveling the world, but wished he had someone to do it with. He told me about his children and grandchildren. He asked me questions too, and we had a wonderful conversation that covered a range of topics and lasted most of the flight.
After exiting the plane, I walked with Kit and his sister to the baggage claim. They introduced me to their niece, who was lovely and there to pick them up. Kit and I exchanged contact information and I promised to email him information about my favorite hikes in Muir Woods. After our farewells, I watched as Kit and his sister loaded their luggage into the trunk of their niece’s car, and I felt blessed to have met them. While I didn’t get to read my book, I definitely did not squander my time!
A week and a half later, following my California trip, I was on a road-trip with two of my best friends, Kathy and Holly. We were driving to West Yellowstone, MT., to cross country ski in a 24-hour ski festival. Like me, Holly and Kathy are voracious readers and we often discuss books. I had finally finished reading Unbroken and I was giving it rave reviews.
As I was telling them about the book, I mentioned my recent San Francisco flight and how I had planned on reading the book during the flight if not for the friendly man seated next to me.
I explained that instead of reading, I engaged in conversation with the man, named Kit. Proud of my “interviewing” skills, I shared with Kathy and Holly a sampling of what I was able to learn about Kit during our flight. More or less, I told them Kit was “a handsome man from Colorado who was divorced, semi-retired, had just started drawing on his social security, was interested in art history, and had dreams of traveling the world.”
Holly, in the back seat, suggested, “Maybe we should introduce him to my Mom.”
Holly’s mom, Sharon, is one of the most wonderful people I’ve ever met. Tragically, her husband had passed away two years earlier. Holly’s mom was healing but still grieving the loss of her beloved life partner, with whom she had made so many plans for the future.
At first, I chuckled at Holly’s suggestion. It seemed preposterous. But then I told her I had the man’s email address and if she was serious, and her mom agreed to it, I could send an email to Kit about a possible intro. Upon our return from the ski trip, Holly asked her mom if she was open to such an introduction, and while Holly’s mom wasn’t particularly optimistic given the geographical distance, she gave us the green light.
I emailed Kit and explained that I was sorry if I was overstepping and sorry if my note was awkward. I wrote that I enjoyed meeting him and that he seemed like a wonderful catch for someone I knew. I shared briefly about my dear friend’s mom, an amazing woman who had lost her husband two years earlier. I wondered if he’d be open to an introduction. I included Sharon’s phone number in the email before signing off.
Kit emailed me back. He appreciated that I thought of him as a suitable prospect for my friend’s mom and said he’d consider reaching out to her.
A couple of days passed and on March 23, 2011, Kit called Sharon.
And the rest is history.
“Something clicked on that first call,” explains Sharon. “We ended up talking every evening for a couple of weeks before finally meeting in person. It was obvious that we had many shared goals and values, and there was mutual chemistry that made it worth dealing with the distance issue however we could.”
It’s been almost nine years since that first phone call and by all indications, Kit and Sharon are living happily ever after. They share two homes, one in Colorado Springs and the other in San Diego. They spend time with their blended families, including their children and grandchildren. They have enjoyed countless adventures and have traveled extensively.
“We are seeing the world together,” reports Kit. “Our first trip was to Prague, then down the Danube to Budapest, seeing the sights and cities (Salzburg, Vienna, etc.) along the way. Next we went to Greece, Turkey, Montenegro, Croatia, and Italy. Then it was to Russia with friends, cruising from Moscow to St. Petersburg , stopping at lots of smaller towns between the two. After that we cruised down the Rhine River from Switzerland, where we went high into the Alps, and to Amsterdam and to France and Germany.”
They also traveled to Africa (Tanzania) with Sharon’s daughter Holly and family in 2017, and in 2018, they traveled to Vietnam and Cambodia, and to England, Scotland, and Norway. They are currently planning trips to Italy and Switzerland. In addition to their international travels, they’ve also enjoyed many trips throughout the U.S. Currently, they are looking forward to a trip to Isle Royale National Park, and a Viking Baltic Cruise.
“After eight years we still love each other dearly, have a deep concern for each other’s happiness, and can’t imagine not being together,” says Sharon.
A few years ago, I was in San Diego for work and Kit and Sharon invited me to stay with them in their new home. (I was their first house guest.) After arriving, we took a stroll on a nearby beach before Sharon cooked a delicious meal for us. After much wonderful and meaningful conversation, we said our goodnights and I retreated to the guest room.
As I got settled, I noticed a book on the nightstand.
P. S. I don’t believe in coincidences. On that March day in 2011, while flying through the skies between Denver and San Francisco, I think was an instrument for the Universe, placed in that particular seat to facilitate what could, if all the necessary and subsequent “connections” were made, facilitate a love story. What if I would have kept my head buried in the book during my flight? What if I hadn’t mentioned reading the book, Unbroken, during my road-trip with Kathy and Holly? I’m so glad I didn’t squander my time reading my book. And finally, one more thing: Since helping to matchmake Kit and Sharon, I have match-made another couple, Florian and Mary. Florian and Mary are married and have a 3-year-old son. But that’s another story that I will tell another time.)
Following are some photos Sharon and Kit shared with me:
Cambodia, 2017.
Russia, 2014.
Celebrating their new home in San Diego, 2014.
With Sharon’s daughter Holly and her family in Africa, 2017.
Note: This particular blog post is written for women. However, if you’re a man and you’re reading this, you may learn something that’s helpful with respect to women who are in the middle of their life.
“Above all, be the heroine of your life, not the victim.” –Nora Ephron
“The body is not a thing, it is a situation.” —Simone de Beauvoir
Hi. My name is Shelli. I’m 51 years old and I’m going through perimenopause. 🤪💃🏿
Hi! I’m Shelli.
By definition, perimenopause means “around menopause” and refers to the time during which a woman’s body makes its natural transition to menopause, marking the end of the reproductive years. Technically speaking, this is a time when a woman’s level of estrogen–the main female hormone–rises and falls unevenly. A woman’s menstrual cycle may lengthen or shorten, and she may begin having menstrual cycles in which her ovaries don’t release an egg (ovulate).
Can I just call it what it is? This is a time when all hell breaks loose for a woman. (Note: Not all women struggle in perimenopause/midlife. There are some who sail through this stage without incident. I just don’t know any of them.)
But before we get to the hell-breaking-loose part, let me say for the record that the middle of life is an extremely meaningful and beautiful stage of life. This is a time of harvest and reaping the benefits of years of striving, raising children (or not), overcoming challenges, making memories, and more. It’s a time for reflecting, to be grateful for the blessings in our life while looking forward with hope and anticipation. Personally, and honestly, this is the best time of my life.
And, it’s a hard and disorienting time.
For example, the other night my husband, Jerry, brought home flowers for me. Upon discovering them, I kissed the flowers and then smelled my husband while saying Thank You. (And by the way, I didn’t deserve the flowers, but that’s another story. For now, suffice it to say that my husband is thoughtful, but also probably concerned. After all, these days I often enter a room and can’t remember why. I am more easily overwhelmed. I sometimes think I’m losing my mind, and I’m often not recognizable to myself, let alone to those who love me.)
I’ve been soliciting and compiling a list of unusual or “crazy” things women have done or experienced as a result of the physiological and psychological changes in midlife. (If you’re a woman, please consider sharing anecdotes and stories with me. I promise to not disclose your identity.) The first woman who shared about her experience with perimenopause did so a couple of years ago when I ran into her at a community event. This is a woman that I have always considered to be a rockstar–a superwoman who is extremely accomplished, involved in her community, and who isn’t easily fazed. I hadn’t seen or talked to her in over a year. She explained that perimenopause had turned her life upside down. She explained that for over a year she was for the most part “emotionally disabled,” and shared with me intimate details about how particular parts of her body were breaking down in all kinds of unexpected and painful ways. I have been scared ever since.
A woman I used to coach who is also in this stage of life, shared with me that one day she walked to the gas station to fill her car up. Yes, you read that correctly.
Another woman told me she has been waking up almost every night with what feels like panic attacks. Once awake, she feels an impending doom and cannot get through it without getting up and going outside, even if it’s dark and even if it’s raining or snowing out. She explained that she could not bear the thought of even one more night like that, so she went to the doctor to get a prescription for anti-anxiety meds, which she hopes will prevent future panic attacks and feelings of doom.
I belong to a few online communities that cater to women who are over 40 and it’s common to read of women suffering existential crises. Another woman wrote to me that after she spent an evening reading in bed like she typically does (“with the perfect eyesight I’ve always had”) she woke up and it was the end of her perfect eyesight. Just like that. Literally overnight. While checking emails on her phone at breakfast, the words were so blurry she had to strain hard with her eyes just to try to read it. Her great vision never returned and she now wears progressive lenses. Are eyesight problems due to perimenopause? I don’t know, but at this point, I’d say, of course! 🙂
Several women have shared with me how they wake up in the early morning hours to discover themselves stripped naked, and their bedsheets totally drenched all the way through the mattress pad. At the same time, they feel mentally scattered and confused.
Educator and author Darcey Steinke, in her latest book, Flash Count Diary: Menopause and the Vindication of Natural Life, describes one of her hot flashes: “I throw off my covers and feel, in the first pocket of spooky quiet, that flames are burning from my inner organs up into my muscles toward the skin. I’d run away but how does one flee one’s own body? Each hair is a thin electric coil heating up my head.”
Hot flash cure. This is how we do it on the Frontier. 😉
Like I was saying, the struggle is real.
Jenny Offill, author of Dept. of Speculation, praises Steinke’s book: calling it “a profound white-knuckle ride through unnamed territories.”
I love Offill’s description because as I find myself experiencing symptoms of perimenopause, I do indeed feel like I’m in an unnamed territory. It is as if I’m standing with a great expanse of uncharted land before me, for which I do not have a map. And by all early indications, the terrain will at times be severe and dramatic.
Add to that, I’ve learned that the physiological and psychological symptoms that come with this stage of a woman’s life, can last 4-12 years. In other words, this won’t be a quick adventure, and I’m going to need some help.
Fortunately, help is available in many forms. First, there are forms of support that address physiological and psychological symptoms. There is hormone replacement. There are antidepressants and anxiety meds. There is therapy. Meditation. Exercise. Time spent outdoors. Yoga. Acupuncture. Massages. There are numerous recommended supplements that reportedly help relieve midlife ailments, including Magnesium L-Threonate, Vitamin D, Vitamin B12, melatonin, and others. There are herbs like Black Cohosh, Vitex Berry, and other natural solutions–where legal–such as cannabis (CBD and THC). And the list goes on and on.
Our experience in this wilderness that is midlife can feel lonely.
This is a good time to mention that we are in a Loneliness Epidemic in the United States. Some 50% of Americans report feeling lonely. This is compared to just 20% in the 1980s. During a time when we’ve never been more connected, we are increasingly lonely. Loneliness doesn’t only bring emotional suffering that results in increased rates of depression, anxiety, and rates of suicide, but also results in real health ramifications. One Cigna study reported that experiencing loneliness is the equivalent of smoking 15 cigarettes a day. People who regularly experience loneliness are more likely to get sick and to live shorter lives.
I’ve been doing research and writing on belonging and loneliness and will be publishing a separate blog post about that soon. But I mention loneliness here because it’s relevant. If you’re a midlife woman, experiencing even just some of the many symptoms of perimenopause, it’s likely you’ll sometimes experience loneliness. I know I have experienced loneliness, despite the fact I have a number of friends and good people in my life.
But I offer some encouragement: We’re not alone. At least we don’t have to be.
The most helpful “medicine”/cure I’ve found so far for the challenges of perimenopause and all things midlife–of all of the solutions I’ve purchased or tried–has been connecting with other women. I have found support and guidance from the women in my life, including my mother, my sisters and my friends, and all of the women I have coached or worked with who are experiencing midlife or who have gone before me and made it to the other side of The Change. I find tremendous comfort in the meaningful conversations and intimate sharing of knowledge and experiences that result when women in midlife are together.
So I would like to facilitate more of that.
In an effort to do this, I’m launching a new program called “Epic Midlife Women.” I’ve designed the program that I want to attend. If you’re a woman in your 40s or 50s, dealing with any of the things I’ve mentioned in this blog post, then I’m looking for you.
I hope you’ll consider joining me on the journey through the wilderness of midlife.
The Epic Midlife Women program will include many of the components I incorporate in my coaching, presentation, and other Epic programs, but will follow a new format. While we’ll have some time offsite in a beautiful outdoor location, this program will be more of an event and gathering. In addition to programming that will be related to all things midlife, there will be a lot of facilitated, as well as organic, conversation, connection, and sharing.
Here’s a personal video message I made:
If you’re interested in learning more about the program, please email me. The program is being offered on a first-come, first-served basis.
Thank you for reading. I appreciate your time and support.
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.
The only instruction was to meet at the lighthouse at 5:30 am, and then at first light, we’d all take our clothes off. As a group, we’d get naked.
It was the (optional) morning activity for The Nantucket Project on Sept.15, 2018. The purpose was to bare all for world-renowned photographer Spencer Tunick. Tunick is famous for organizing large-scale nude shoots. (Since 1994, he has photographed over 75 human installations around the world.)
I wanted to do it. Well to clarify, I didn’t want to get naked in front of a bunch of people. I wanted to have the courage to do it. The night before, I told myself, If I do this, I can do anything. And I meant it.
I make a living out of daring people to take chances and to spend time outside of their comfort zones. I work hard to practice what I preach and think I mostly do. If I could take my clothes off in front of 100 or so people, imagine what would be possible after that… So I set the alarm for 4:45 am and went to bed.
4:45 am came and the alarm went off. I didn’t hit the snooze button, but I also didn’t go to the lighthouse to take my clothes off. I couldn’t muster the courage. I chickened out.
I wish I would have participated. It would have been the ultimate courage test and I failed it.
I want to be brave, and I know that in order to be brave, I must be willing to do things that scare me.
By the way, this talk about bravery reminds me of the phenomenal and inspiring slam poet, Andrea Gibson, and a wonderful line in her poem, Elbows: “Brave is the hand-me-down suit of Terrified As Hell.”
I like to think I wear that hand-me-down suit often. Just not on Sept. 15, 2018, and just not the “birthday suit.”
I realize that for many people, being naked in front of others is not a big deal. I’m just not one of them.
The Nantucket Project is an inspiring and thought-provoking event. Co-founded in 2010 by Tom Scott and Kate Brosnan, TNP is an annual gathering that features marquee presenters, change-makers, artists and more. It’s an amazing event that I highly recommend if you can afford it. I was fortunate to attend The Nantucket Project in 2018 thanks to an opportunity provided by one of the event’s sponsors, and one of my long-time client organizations, Publicis.Sapient, who hired me to deliver my keynote presentation during lunch one day to a group of their leaders and top clients.
I have thought a lot about that nude photoshoot and have concluded that the main reason I couldn’t quite bring myself to bare all was that I knew some of the people who would be there. The thought of standing naked with people I work with made me too uncomfortable.
This should come as no surprise to me. I know from experience that I get more nervous when I deliver my keynote presentation to people I know than when I deliver it to strangers.
Why is that? Why do we get more nervous when presenting or revealing a personal part of ourselves to people we know than to people we don’t know?
Imagine the possibilities if during times that required great courage and vulnerability from us we could wear–hide behind–a mask or a costume. It would be helpful and even fun.
But what it would not be is courageous.
In closing, I’m pondering these questions. I invite you to do the same. It could be interesting and worthwhile, even:
1. Can you think of a similar experience where the courage required of you to do something felt similar to having to take your clothes off, to be completely exposed?
2. What is something you want to do that requires so much daring and discomfort that you would only do it if you could hide yourself and your identity in the process?
3. What, if anything, would help you muster the courage necessary to do it without hiding behind a mask or anonymity?
4. Is the excuse/reason for your unwillingness to do it, in fact, a legitimate excuse or are you just chickening out? 🙂
If you go with the flow, you let things happen or let other people tell you what to do, rather than trying to control what happens yourself.
I am not great at going with the flow. Wait, that’s not entirely true. When I’m in a group and I’m tasked with doing something I don’t know how to do, or when I’m not the group’s designated leader, then I’m pretty good at going with the flow.
But in just about all other circumstances, it’s difficult for me to just go with the flow.
I’m a planner and I value preparation. I practice and prepare pretty much everything. One of the reasons I value preparation so much is that if I do the work in advance, then when the time comes to deliver my keynote presentation, or lead clients on an Epic Adventure, or whatever I’m tasked with doing, then I have the luxury of choosing to be more flexible than I normally would be. I am more able to go with the flow because I’ve done all the advance planning and reviewed possible scenarios and outcomes.
I admire people who both prepare and who are good at going with the flow.
People who are good at going with the flow put others at ease. When we aren’t able to go with the flow, we can come across as uptight, and our nervous energy can make others nervous or anxious. I’d love to be able to not want to control so much and to instead care just a little less about the details.
My husband and I have three sons. Our sons have always teased me, and remarked–mostly lovingly–that I need to calm down and/or “Hakuna Matata” or “tranquila.” In fact, our youngest son, Fin, wrote and tucked this adorable note in my laptop on a trip I took to deliver my keynote presentation some years ago. The keynote opportunity represented a big break for me. Fin’s note made me smile while serving as a valuable reminder that I had done the work and now I just needed to relax…
Several years ago, in 1986, my mom was driving with me from Lander, Wyoming, to Missoula, Montana. I would be attending the University of Montana journalism school (on a basketball scholarship) that Fall, and we were taking a quick trip to Missoula prior to starting college.
About three hours into our 11-hour road trip, we were stuck in road construction. Our timing wasn’t great and we arrived at the construction zone right as a long group of cars was led in front of us through the temporary single lane of dirt road. There was only one car in front of us, and before long, several cars were parked and lined up behind us. The person holding the stop sign indicated we may have a delay of up to 30 minutes.
But (unexpectedly) soon, the only car in front of us–a pink Cadillac with a license plate that read FLO–started driving. Not really thinking about it, I followed suit. We drove slowly over the rough road, close behind the pink Cadillac.
But a minute or two later, there were lights filling my rearview mirror. That’s when I noticed that none of the other cars had followed us. There was only one car behind us and it was a highway patrolman with flashing lights on the top of his car and he was coming up fast behind us.
My mom and I wondered out loud if he was trying to pull us over or what the deal was. We weren’t speeding. The pink Cadillac in front of us continued, seemingly unconcerned. My mom and I, ever the rule followers, decided we better pull over. We greeted the highway patrolman cheerfully, but he appeared angry. He scolded us, “You are supposed to wait for a pilot car to lead you through the construction.”
My mom and I looked at each other, and then, my mom pointed at the pink Cadillac, which had by now left us in its dust, and offered, in her famously kind and gentle voice, “I’m sorry, but we were just going with the Flo.”
I know–Boom! Right? My mom is clever and funny.
Lucky for us, the officer was feeling generous that day. He explained that the woman driving the pink Cadillac was part of the construction crew arriving to work and that hers was not the pilot car. Still, he couldn’t help but smile at my mom’s wit, and he let us off the hook.
I’ve never forgotten that story, and any time I hear the expression, go with the flow, I recall that special memory with my mom when we were “just going with the flo.”
Are you good at going with the flow? Or a better question might be, Where in your life, or work, could you afford to go with the flow, and what might the benefits be for doing so? I’m pondering this question right now and getting some good insights in the process.
Thanks for stopping by to read my blog. I appreciate you and your time very much!
