30. 20...
Can someone please poke her on the shoulder, get her attention, and tell her that 30 is not the new 20?
For her heart, for her world, for her work, for her happiness, for her love...
She deserves to know.
(Thanks.)
Tunnel. Light.
We hear the phrase..
How old were you when the "there's always a light at the end of the tunnel" or "keep going, there will soon be a light at the end of that tunnel" or "find the light at the end of your tunnel" wisdoms started peppering your life's steak as it was being grilled?
We remember the big (insert silence and fear) tunnels from yesterday.
What happened to cause that bridge or overpass to turn into a tunnel, and the light behind you from where you entered to no longer light the path ahead to the wide opening in front of you?
We can feel the memory of sleepless nights and flinch from the echo of that freight train's roar from long ago.
Where did you find the tunnel in your life that finally was long, dark, twisting, and terrifyingly numbing beyond belief?
When did you learn that the light at the end of your tunnel might actually be a freight train coming your way?
We instinctively reach out to that person that decided for us if we should hold steady instead of ducking for cover.
Who did you turn to for help in discovering if it's a light of hope, or a light of "oh-oh here-it-comes"?
My challenge to you, as we take these steps together on this grassy background, is to consider each of those questions and bolded thoughts one step further.
Yes. There's a light at the end of the tunnel.
There always was.
There always will be.
Yesterday's tunnels have been walked, navigated, crawled, or even scraped through already.
By you.
That flinch, that distant echoing roar is the fear of the fear of the maybe of having the possibility of leaving your comfort zone.
(Reread that: Fear of fear. Maybe of the possibility. Comfort zone. Distant echo.)
You saw the light.
You kept going.
You learned.
You felt.
You ducked.
You ran.
You peeked through the cracks in the fingers of your outstretched hand to make out the train or blue sky instead.
One day you'll learn that the freight train coming your way is conducted by that lizard brain of yours.
Ol'lizard with his stupid conductor hat on doesn't just want you along for the ride, it wants you to picture yourself face-first in the locomotive.
Keep that in mind the next time you start palming your way along the walls of your next tunnel. You'll need more practice. You'll need more tunnels to face. When you see that light at the end of the tunnel, and you're not sure? Smile. Get ready to face it head on.
Derail the fear.
Keep going.
Home
A few thoughts for your eyes to dance through for a few minutes in your day:
1. Home is where the heart is.
Wherever home is, there your heart is.
If you don't have heart, you don't have your home.
2. You might be an ocean away, but you had.. have.. and will have.. a home, here.
3. Here. (Hand to my chest. Hand to your chest.)
4. Home is where my heart is.
I hope you find home one day.
5. It's not a coincidence.
6. It wasn't a coincidence.
7. It's home.
8. Remember the many doors and windows to what home is?
Holding hands is home.
The nook in your collarbone is home.
Ruffled duvet covers are home.
How you hold a coffee mug is home.
The way your rest your leg on a stool footrest is home.
Your look out the windows with serenity and grace is home.
That smile when you fall asleep at night as your chest lowers and raises with each gentle breath is home.
Wondering is home.
Listening for hours is home.
Swinging arms as our fingers lock seamlessly into place is home.
Sweetness in the air is home.
Knowing it's ok for it to be special is home.
9. Home is so close if you could only see it.
10. Home is where the heart is - one heart beat, one moment at a time.
Keep Your Head Down
Dearest fellow ruckus-makers, Linchpins, intrapreneurs, artists, and change-agents,
How often are you hearing the following?
(More importantly, how regularly are they said to your face?)
"You don't belong here."
"Why are you here?"
"She's different..."
"... (pause) ... innnteresting..."
Or my personal favorite:
"Keep your head down."
Well?
When you do what you do, do you look for an award, a pat on the back, a nice job, or an email with every person above you on the totem pole cc'd?
: knock knock :
(Are we really doing this? Yes, we're interrupting this post with a knock-knock. Go with it.)
Who's there?
?
You.
You who?
Yoohoo, that's not why you're here. Put those awards away.
Don't put them on your mantle.
Keep those ribbons off your chest.
Show up.
Wear your scars with pride.
Dare.
Do in places where doing isn't done.
Be there, where there aren't.
Keep your head up.
Put a dent in your universe.
Don't wait for applause.
Face the flinch.
Know that when they say "you don't belong here" that you are exactly where you should be. Know that when they ask why your colors clash in a place of black and white, you're doing something right. Know that being different is more refreshing than a lemonade in the dessert; you're a pipeline of revitalization. Know that the eyebrow-raised remark with a wow masked behind it is the boost to your battery. Know that when your boss tells you to keep your head down, because the success and change and inspiration and hope and you bring to a lifeless swamp is exactly what the doctor ordered to pick you up, dust your shoes off, raise your chin, and keep going.