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About Being Ordinary

Apr 20, 2023 | Sovereignty, Women's Voice & Power, Women's Wisdom

The desire, temptation, and lure to live an extraordinary life is strong; to figure out our “one thing;” to do, create, be, achieve, rise up, astonish, accomplish, shine.

When we consider this within the expanse of time, it is a relatively new phenomenon. For generations, life was shaped by survival and perseverance, seasons and hours, shelter and sustenance, tribe and family. Ordinary life took precedence. And somehow, in the midst of such, extraordinary lives were lived.

A few examples from the stories I reimagine and retell?

  • Hagar: a slave who was forced to bear the child of the man who owned her, she was then banished to the desert with her young son, Ishmael. He became the patriarch of Islam.
  • The Midwives: two Egyptian women who birthed the babies of Israelite women, they were ordered by the Pharaoh to kill all newborn boys. They did no such thing. One child spared was Moses who freed the Israelite people from slavery.
  • Mary: an engaged girl trying to make sense of an unexpected pregnancy became the mother of Jesus.

How about these?

Andrée de Jongh saved hundreds of Allied airmen escaping from the Nazis, and Freddie and Truus Oversteegen spent their teenage years luring Nazis to their death by seducing them. Frances Perkins was the first woman to serve on the US Cabinet. Aung San Suu Kyi spent fifteen years on house arrest in the name of non-violence and democracy. Roberta “Bobbi” Gibb ran in the Boston Marathon after being rejected because she was a woman. Amani Al-Khatahtbeh started a pioneering publication by and for Muslim women. Rosalind Franklin discovered the double helix structure of DNA. Sybil Ludington rode twice as far as Paul Revere to warn about the British. Mary McLeod Bethune served on FDR’s “Black Cabinet” working as an activist for education and civil rights. Lee Miller spent years photographing all the heroic women of World War II. Gertrude Bell was a legendary explorer who helped establish modern day Iraq. [Source]

In her book Hidden Figures, Margot Lee Shetterly tells the true story of three black female mathematicians at NASA whose calculations helped fuel some of America’s greatest achievements in space. In an interview, she said:

History is the sum total of what all of us do on a daily basis. We think of capital “H” history as being these huge figures—George Washington, Alexander Hamilton, and Martin Luther King. Even so, you go to bed at night, you wake up the next morning, and then yesterday is history. These small actions in some ways are more important or certainly as important as the individual actions by these towering figures.

Generations of women have gone to bed at night and woken up the next morning. They have birthed life into the world in every form. They have sustained and saved life in infinite ways. They have survived life itself. Each of these are “certainly as important as the individual actions by towering figures.”

Ordinary women cannot help but live extraordinary lives. 

I’m certain you have stories of your own:

  • When you say no to anything that compromises you or others.
  • When you choose courage over compliance.
  • When you risk everything on behalf of what you know to be right and true.
  • When you refuse to let your boundaries be breached yet again.
  • When you love who you love—regardless of laws or opinions.
  • When you do the hard and ongoing work of acknowledging your own internalized racism.
  • When you demonstrate, lobby, and vote on behalf of women’s right to their own bodies, their very choices.
  • When you speak up in a meeting at work even though doing so goes against the grain.
  • When you refuse to internalize patriarchal messages that intentionally have you doubting whether or not you are enough.
  • When you do not believe the overculture that says you only matter when you are young and beautiful (and that we must endlessly strive toward and purchase such).
  • When you stand humbly alongside other women who have known harm, violence, bigotry, and bias that few of us can begin to imagine.
  • When you refuse relationships that require your silence or perpetuate your shame.

It is in living an ordinary life that YOU are extraordinary. 

Not because you try. But because you survive and persevere and “be” – day-in, day-out. Good and bad. Easy and hard. Joyful and excruciating. Wins and losses. Gifts and hassles. People and places. Normal, everyday, ordinary.

Nothing more. And certainly nothing less.

If, in the mix of all that you write a book, or stand on a stage, or build a successful business, or raise a family, or get a promotion, or take a demotion, or make your mortgage payments, or crochet an afghan, or nurture a garden, or (fill in the blank), it will be because you have – in obvious and ordinary ways – taken the next step, done the next thing, walked through the next door, lived through the next day. NOT because you have pushed and prodded and persuaded yourself to be more amazing and incredible than you already are.

You being you is extraordinary.

Last week, in one of Jena Schwartz’s beautiful posts, she included this quote from Anna Quindlen:

“The thing that is really hard, and really amazing, is giving up on being perfect and beginning the work of becoming yourself.”

That same wisdom could be stated this way, as well: The thing that is really hard, and really amazing, is giving up on being extraordinary and *just* being you. Because, after all, you being you is extraordinary!

May it be so.

About My Book

Dec 2, 2022 | Women's Voice & Power, Writing

It feels WAY too far away to actually talk about, let alone celebrate, but still, I’m naming it:

On 10.3.23 my book will be published! Rewriting Eve: Claiming Women’s Sacred Stories As Our Own. 

I am relieved beyond words that 20-ish years of writing — and my deliberating and editing and doubting and pitching and starting over and sticking with it and frankly, just sheer endurance — is, at last, making its way into a book that I can hold in my hands . . . as can you. 

I can also tell you that it would be just like me to bypass every bit of this, to not note the significance of today’s date, to not let myself revel — even for a moment — in what I’ve accomplished, to not celebrate at all.

My dear friend Tanya Geisler talks about this often:

“[T]he Imposter Complex and its relentless requirement for perfection and certainty tries to keep us from celebrating our accomplishments, because what has been done is ‘not enough.‘”’ Or it could have been done better, faster, or more . . . something.

And so many of us have been conditioned to believe that celebrating our own accomplishments is far too much. Far too audacious.

And who are you to be larger than life, anyways?

Listen, I won’t lie.

Taking up the space the universe has carved out for you is not for the faint of heart. It takes tenacity and resilience and a reverence for ourselves that transcends the wee space around our toes. It takes boundaries and a willingness to rewrite the stories that were originally written to limit you and others like you. It takes support and a clarity of vision and a relentless fidelity to the promises you have made . . . to yourself as much as to others. It takes discernment and care and a trust in your ability to wield power in generative ways, even if you haven’t seen it modeled well before. It takes audacity.” 

You can read her whole post here.

She’s right of course.

I feel the heat rise to my cheeks because I know that every bit of this applies to me, that she’d say exactly these words to me (and few choice others), to be sure. I hear the voices within that natter on: “It’s not that big of a deal.” “Don’t get ahead of yourself.” “Almost a year away yet?!? Sheesh! Let it go.” 

I don’t like admitting any of this. 

But I know it’s needed: my own truth-telling. I also know that when I name my patterns and proclivities — with empathy and large doses of grace — I become more aware, more awake, more myself. 

I also know that every bit of this beyond-ironic. 

My book speaks EXACTLY to Tanya’s words above and my own: truth-telling, believing I am enough (and not too much), “. . . rewrit[ing] the stories that were originally written to limit you and others like you.” It’s what I have done in 60,000+ words. It’s what I’ve been doing for the last two decades, at least. And every page of it is about what it means to see ourselves as sovereign, glorious, and amazing. It’s a celebration of women, their stories, their wisdom, and their lives: the ancient, sacred ones, yours, and mine. 

And still, I struggle to celebrate myself! *sigh*

So today I’m making an effort. I’m giving focused attention to unravelling the messages within. I’m trying to do just the opposite of what I’m predisposed toward. I’m choosing to celebrate this “small” thing in preparation for what’s coming in another 330-some days. 

In the same blog post linked above, Tanya quotes Caroline McHugh:

“[There] are individuals who managed to figure out the unique gift that the universe gave them when they incarnated, and they put that in the service of their goals…

And when we see these people, we invariably call them larger than life. Life is large, but most of us don’t take up nearly the space the universe intended for us. We take up this wee space ‘round our toes, which is why when you see somebody in the full flow of their humanity, it’s remarkable. They’re at least a foot bigger in every direction than normal human beings, and they shine, they gleam, they glow. It’s like they swallowed the moon.”

This is the ache and the invitation, isn’t it? Not just for me, but you as well.

We are loath to take up more space, to shine, to gleam, to glow. We WANT it to be true about us AND we struggle. Both at the same time. 

This? Being a woman who has figured out the unique gift the universe has given them? Putting it in service of your goals? Looking like someone who has swallowed the moon? It’s what I want for you, more than nearly all else. It’s what you deserve.

And yes, me too. 

May it be so.

Saying “no” (out loud) to shame

Nov 18, 2022 | Sovereignty, Women's Voice & Power, Women's Wisdom

I’ve been thinking about shame a lot lately.

I know it’s showing up because in the seemingly-endless writing/editing of my book manuscript, the story I’m working right now is all about shame . . . or so we’ve been told. (No, it’s not Eve — though that’s true in her story, as well.)

Here’s the shocking thing: there is NO reference to shame in the text itself. Every bit of it, centuries of it, has been brought to bear by those who have told her story.

She doesn’t feel shame. It’s what has been overwhelmingly applied to her. Blech!

Here’s what I’m struck by: this is what we do in and to our own stories — apply shame to ourselves!

Why? Why is that so often our default?

Yes, there is MUCH to be said about patriarchy, capitalism, consumerism, and then some — cultural and ideological realities that prey on the fact that when we feel shame we stay in line, don’t get too full of ourselves, don’t feel empowered, remain convinced that we’re not enough, spend money to become enough, and never quite hit the mark (which starts the cycle all over again).

But even after we’ve named all this, parsed it out via good and ongoing exploration of our own stories, it still sits there and shows up again and again and again: the burden of shame.

And so I wonder (not surprisingly), had this woman’s story — and Eve’s and so many more besides — been told without shame, would we so easily, unconsciously, and repeatedly apply it to ourselves?

My answer (not surprisingly) is that we most definitely would NOT!

Our work is to discern, in our own stories, our actual life, if shame IS what belongs there, or if its what we (and others) have assumed, applied, and layered on after-the-fact. 

One way to do this, to parse through all of this conflicting story-stuff and shame’s prevalence, is to think about a time in which you considered breaking the rules, stepping outside the lines, following your intuition / wisdom / heart. You KNEW it would create a ruckus, that others wouldn’t like it, that you would be seen as stirring up trouble or not following protocol or being selfish . . .

Or think about a time when you did it anyway . . .

  • What did you feel when you contemplated this choice?
  • And if you went through with it, what did others “make” you feel?
  • Do those emotions (which I’m guessing include shame) mean that you shouldn’t have done it? That you were wrong? That you WERE selfish? (I’m hoping your answer is “no.”)

See?

The insipid presence of shame either keeps us from trusting ourselves enough to make bold and brave choices that are in perfect alignment with who we truly are, what we truly want , and all that we deserve OR we do make the choice and then pay the price. We’re damned if we do and damned if we don’t.

Have I mentioned? Blech! So, back to the story and no actual mention of shame . . .

What if there was no mention in our own? What if we erased it? What if we didn’t give it a second thought? What if we understood it to be something that we’ve inherited and been taught to apply, but that doesn’t belong to us at all? What if we could eradicate it from our vocabulary and our lived experience?

What if, indeed!

And how would we do that, exactly?

Well, there are lots of ways, but here are two that come to mind:

First, we become acutely and intimately aware of when shame IS the emotion present (vs. guilt, humiliation, or embarrassment — to use Brené Brown’s vocabulary). We assess if it is REALLY what we feel or if it only seems like it because it’s what we are so familiar with — and/or if it’s what others expect and WANT us to feel (or are applying). And then we say, “no!” We refuse shame’s presence. We deny its power. We separate ourselves from the pattern or habit. We turn on our heel and walk a different way.

Second, not as alternative but as accompaniment, we reimagine and retell the countless stories we have been told about a woman’s shame — as though it were a given, just the way it is, commonplace, and to be expected. We critique our own assumptions and others’. And we re-vision those stories in ways that reveal their inherent beauty, wisdom, and strength . . . so that WE are the ones who come to see, understand, and value the same in ourselves.

Brené Brown says that “the antidote to shame is empathy.” For ourselves! And according to Kristen Neff, self-compassion is the key — which includes self-kindness vs. self-judgment, acknowledging our common humanity vs. isolation, and mindfulness vs. over-identification.

Think of it!! If empathy and compassion had been our implicit and overwhelming response to Eve’s story, to that of the Woman at the Well (the one I’ve been working with), to countless women throughout time, and ourselves?!? Everything would be different. I have to believe it still can be.

This week, maybe start small. Notice when shame rears its ugly head — and how it makes you feel. Then quietly (or loudly!) just say “no.”

Another thing? When you see shame being applied to other women — whether on social media, in a book or film, on the news — say “no” again. Out loud. And in its place, apply generous doses of empathy, self-compassion, and yes, grace.

You deserve a story without shame — past, present, and future. Every woman does — past, present, and future.

May it be so.

*****

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Happy 26th Birthday, Emma Joy!

Oct 31, 2022 | Mothers and Daughters

How is it possible that you are 26 today? (The question I’m really asking is how it is possible that I have a 26-year-old as of today!!) The answer to both questions matter little. What matters most—and always has—is that you are here and you are you and every bit of that, every bit of you, is as glorious and amazing and full-of-life as ever.

The day you posted this picture on Facebook, your update said, “almost 26, signing a lease on a new apartment tomorrow, and really excited about life in general 💕 oh and my hair is pink 🙂” That pretty much captures it, yes? And every bit of your enthusiasm is made more beautiful given the work and effort and intention and courage you apply to who you are, what you value, and how to make your way in this life and this world. 

I read a book last week about the power of stories and magic, identity and culture, gender and hegemony, being a kid who only wants to be themselves. It was also about being a parent who only wants their kid to be happy . . . to make sure they know they are endlessly and always loved. It was fabulous. Made more so because it was the kid who taught the parents, the kid who understood, the kid who had the capacity to change the world and even if not, to be themselves in it anyway. 

And that’s what I believe about you, Emma Joy. You have the capacity to change the world and be yourself in it. You also have the capacity to be yourself even when/if the world does not change . . . at least in the ways and with the speed you desire and deserve. 

As you navigate this world—both its brokenness and its beauty—not to mention work, money, friendships, choices, and so much more, I watch with awe and joy and delight and pride and hope and faith. And love. 

Happy 26th Birthday, Emma Joy. I love you – endlessly and always. 

damned if you do and damned if you don’t

Oct 14, 2022 | Women's Voice & Power, Women's Wisdom

I have had numerous conversations with clients in past weeks about the “damned if you do and damned if you don’t” place we inevitably find ourselves in.

Some examples:

  • A friendship that is one-sided and sucking the very life out of you.
  • A marriage or partner-relationship that you’ve waited-and-wished-and-hoped-and-prayed would get better…but doesn’t.
  • A job that you’re good at, where people rely on you, and you’re miserable.
  • A parent who can’t (or won’t) see/accept you for who you are.
  • A community of faith that you’ve been part of forever that would be deeply hurt if you left…and you know you can’t stay.
  • Fill in the blank.

No matter which way you turn, there is a price to pay. You feel forced to choose between your needs or the needs/demands/requirements of others. And unless you just blatantly ignore every signal within, every bit of your internal wisdom, every whisper of that know-that-you-know-that-you-know voice within, there is no sidestepping it, waiting it out, or wishing it away. It sounds cliché, but no less true: the only way “out” is through.

*sigh* 

If you’re there, I’m sorry. I know it well. It’s hard and messy and painful. It feels endless — and completely impossible.

I find it too simplistic to talk about circumstances like these only through the lens of “boundaries.” Yes, they’re in play — whether their violation, enforcement, or complete absence; but I think there’s more going on, more to consider and acknowledge when we feel like we’re straightjacketed and stuck.

For the sake of level-setting though, lets define the term itself:

Boundaries are a conceptual limit between you and the other person. Simply put, it’s about knowing where you end and others begin. Knowing what’s yours and what’s not. Acknowledging that every adult is responsible for themselves. Having a functional boundary (one that works) means taking responsibility for your own actions and emotions, and NOT taking responsible for the actions and emotions of others. Source

If you had asked me to read this definition 30 years ago, it would have sounded like another language, one I could not begin to understand. You could NOT have convinced me that it was NOT my job to take responsibility for the actions and emotions of others! What in the world??!!

As a result, and as you might imagine,

I’ve learned about boundaries by not having any; by painfully and arduously wrenching myself out of habits, deeply-ingrained patterns, and relationships multiple times. Or not…and then living with that pain, as well.

To draw a line between someone else’s actions and emotions and our own, then stay on our side of it, can feel insensitive, uncompassionate, and harsh. We wrestle with who we are, at core, when forced into choices that make others uncomfortable or worse, actually hurt them. And so, lots of times, we don’t do any of it: draw the line, stay on our side, or make a choice.

(If I’m being completely honest, I should rewrite the whole paragraph above in first person…)

With hindsight’s wisdom, I can see that there is another way, multiple ways, far better ways to put boundaries in place and feel like a decent human being at the same time. So what is the alternative?

How are we to make hard choices, do hard things, establish healthy boundaries and/or extricate ourselves from situations, people, and institutions that make us miserable?

I’ve probably told you the story before: my beginning attempts at all of this in my former marriage; how I wandered through Every. Single. Day. silently repeating the same words over and over and over again: I am not a bitch. I am not a bitch. I am not a bitch. I needed the constant reminder. I HAD to believe that being honest and breaking our/my deeply-entrenched patterns, was NOT a reflection of some character flaw. I HAD to believe that what I knew was true: I am a good person. I am a loving person. I am kind and generous and compassionate. I am not vindictive or mean. I do not have ulterior motives. I do not intend harm. I am not a bitch. I am not a bitch. I am not a bitch.

Brené Brown wasn’t prolific back then or I would have leaned heavily into her family’s motto: “Clear is kind.” It sounds way better than my repeated mantra…

Here’s my point and hoped-encouragement for you:

Learning to believe in, trust, and value ourselves is what creates the benchmark for everything and everyone else.

  • The more I believe I am worthy of love and respect, any and everything less becomes clear.
  • The more I trust I am kind and generous and compassionate, then the thought that I am being mean or selfish or insensitive is probably about them, not me.
  • The more I value my time, my body, my beliefs, and then some, their compromise — in any context or relationship — is all the evidence I need that change is required.

A few more?

  • When I am disappointed, it’s NOT because my expectations were too high; rather, I have not been treated, talked to, or related with in a way that was equal to what I deserve. I’ve had to allow that this is not about me being “better than” or demanding or narcissistic; it’s about acknowledging that my expectations are actually consistent with how I value myself. (Just the opposite is also true: the lower my value of myself, the lower my expectations of others…) And on days when I can’t quite get there, I ask myself how I would respond if the same thing happened to one of my daughters…
  • When I fear upsetting the apple cart, I (now) realize that this is all the data I need. Fear is almost always the flashing neon sign that says “you’re on the right track; keep moving in this direction; don’t sidestep…”
  • The longer the list of how others might feel if I do or say X, Y, or Z, the more evidence I have that I’m wandering into compromise and compliance.

NONE of what I’ve named above alleviates the other side of this: all the emotions and heartache and grief we feel when faced with others’ pain or misunderstanding or reaction.

What if you saw your emotions as unequivocal confirmation that you are, in fact, kind and generous and compassionate? What if you allowed all your feelings to affirm, instead of deny, that what you long for and desire (for yourself and others) is goodness and grace and hope? Always hope.

So that I can (hopefully) finish this up, let’s go back to where we started: the damned-if-you-do-and-damned-if-you-don’t place…

Maybe it’s not quite the bind it seems. Maybe it’s far more expansive with possibility than you’ve seen or known. Maybe it’s invitation to honor yourself — in palpable and powerful ways. Maybe it’s not an either/or, a choice between you and someone else, but the capacity to hold and allow both…what you feel AND what others feel (without needing them to be the same). It’s definitely a clarion call to acknowledge and allow your sovereignty, your truest and most authentic self, that know-that-you-know-that-you-know voice within, to lead.

Yes, the “hard and messy and painful” remains. But that’s the way of it, the complexity and expansiveness of what it means to embrace all of life vs. holding on to a happily ever after.

This is what it looks like to be a woman who is wise and yes, kind and generous and compassionate; a woman who is beautiful and amazing, tender and strong; a woman who is, well, you!

*****

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