For a few years now, I've talked around the idea of Undeniable Gifts: the idea that every single one of us has something unique, special, and just for us to share in this world. But I've never given it a post unto itself.
Until now.
You've heard it before: "the world needs that special gift that only you have" is a phrase with which Marie Forleo ends nearly every one of her MarieTV webisodes. It's the je ne sais pas that makes you who you are and me who I am. It's the USP of any personal brand.
And yet, so many of us grapple with the idea that we could possibly have anything uniquely ours to share with the world.
After all, everything's already been done before, right?
Perhaps. But I doubt it. It might be accurate to say the concept of nearly everything has been thought of at some point, but even that is a stretch in my mind.
100 years ago none of today's high tech gadgetry even existed. Who's to say what the next 100 years will hold?
I've heard it a lot - in my travels and with my clients:
"I'm a coach. There are lots of coaches in the world. I'm nothing special."
"I'm a direct seller. There are 1.5 million other people in this company selling exactly the same thing. How can I figure out what makes me special?"
"I've heard you say I've got something special about me, but what? I make great cookies, but that doesn't connect to my work!"
"I write books. There are thousands of books published every day. EVERY. DAY."
I get it. I'm not on the cutting edge of tech. I'm not likely to get major funding from an angel investor. Sure, I built one of the first-ever e-commerce sites back in the 1990's, but compared to the speed-of-light cloud computing of today, it was a veritable dinosaur. That wasn't my genius zone anyway. I learned a LOT of stuff in my journey (still do) that adds to my arsenal of awesomeness, but it doesn't really get at the thing I'm most gifted at. In fact, if anything, it just might get in the way of my genius work, because I've gotten so good at so many things.
My gift - the thing I think I do better than anyone else - is believe in the possibilities of people. It's both a blessing and a curse. It's great when a coaching client comes to me, willing to see what I see, and eager to work toward their dream while I hold space for them to step into that awesomeness. It's heartbreaking when I see the possibility of my own kid and he can't. And it's not just my kid. One of the biggest lessons of my life has been that I can't want "it" more for someone than they want it for themselves.
(more…)I've been wanting to write a post for a very long time about a concept I dubbed "the two I's". Inasmuch as we have two eyes through which we see the world, there are two "I's" through which we see the world: our divine self and our human self.
You can try to dodge them, but no matter how hard you try, you will experience the agony and ecstasy of both "selves" in your lifetime. I've talked about our Shadow self before. How the Coward and the Pretender protect ourselves from the world, and the world from us. How they are all part and parcel to our being. But I thought an incredibly personal example from my own upbringing might drive the point a little deeper.
It's probably a good thing my family doesn't read my writing much. Especially this week. I've written about my Dad before, but I don't usually talk about my Mom. That's because ours wasn't the greatest of relationships. While my Dad and I weren't exactly buddies, he wasn't around much as a kid, so he and I didn't develop the strong animosities that Mom and I did.
Dad was a Vet from WWII. He fought in the Asia Pacific Campaign on the island of Hawaii. I never knew much about what he did or who he was, since that was 30+ years before I was even born.
This past week, his replacement Army medals arrived. He earned a bronze star for his campaign medal, and I'm still not entirely sure what that means. In addition to the victory medal, also earned a Good Conduct Medal and a marksman badge for rifle (which explains the gun he kept in the closet when I was growing up). He also earned an honorable service pin. To look at all that regalia, you'd think Dad was some kind of war hero deserving of a halo and a front row seat in Heaven.
Perhaps.
This was the same man who, in his 60's no less, took my mom to abandoned houses to pull out and strip the copper wiring to sell at the junkyard for cash. Granted, that cash was used to feed his family and keep a roof over our heads, but breaking the law is breaking the law, no matter what the intention.
Lest you think Mom was some kind of victim in all this, she is the prostitute in the subheading above. Did you ever wonder what happens to prostitutes after they clean up their act and get off the street? I did, until I learned about Mom's "torrid past".
Back in the early 1970's, Dad was a cab driver. He was in his early 50's, married to a drug addict with two kids - one whom he'd sired and she another she brought to the marriage. To hear Dad tell it, he loved her, but she couldn't kick her habit, so he was looking for another "option". That's when he met my mom. She was this 20-something vixen - one of the few white chicks that hung out at an all-black bar in town where he liked to go between calls.
I never knew mom or dad to be much in the way of drinkers, so that story took me by surprise.
He knew she was earning money the "old fashioned" way, and decided he wanted to get her off the streets and clean her up. So he moved her into his house - with his wife and kids - under the guise of being a live-in nanny and part-time cabbie.
My mom, the undercover live-in lover of my dad, a married man with kids. The wife was too high to care, I presume. Then one day Dad was in the kitchen making wifey a sandwich. She OD'd right in front of the kids and died.
There was nothing to stop them from getting married, so they did. Mom & Dad eventually adopted both boys and went on to have both me and my sister - all before the end of Gerald Ford's presidency.
By the 1980's we were one big family - the kind that put the "fun" in dysfunctional (this picture is from one of the few family camping trips we all took together). My oldest brother (on the right) started stealing from the family. My heroic war vet dad would bind his hands and hang him from the wrists in the garage and whip him with a belt to get him to 'fess up. That put fear into the rest of us to not steal.
My other brother (on the left) decided that it was okay to force himself upon his much younger sister (me) instead. I didn't understand then why my Mother defended him. For years it was easy for me to see the darkness of Mom and the light in my Dad. Dad, the Angel, had left my mom because, well, she was the Devil. Nothing was ever good enough for her demanding ways. It was stressful, painful, and downright horrible.
After Dad and mom split up the first time, Mom took to the belt like a natural. It was an abusive, yet loving home - something you'd only expect to hear from a child of an abusive home. I'm pretty sure my extended family was somewhat aware, but nothing was ever done to my knowledge; no visits from child protective services as far as I know.
Then, in an effort to "make it work for the kids' sake" they got back together. That didn't last long. It was a painful mess of a relationship that colored so much of what my view on men, marriage, and family became for many many years.
It wasn't until I was an adult, with a child of my own, that I could really own that they were both a tangled web of shadows and light - like we all are.
As I approach my fortieth birthday, I look back and do my best to temper both the light and dark in my family. Fitting, since I'm biracial, right?
Amid all that darkness, I remember how my Dad would sit with me every week when my oldest son was still a toddler, and instruct and encourage me to be a better parent. How Mom attended and supported my sister's softball team in high school. The vacations and road trips we took to various parts of Michigan and the Eastern U.S. How they were both compassionate grandparents for as long as they were alive.
Those were good, glorious times: when Mom and Dad were letting their Divine selves shine through.
No one is perfect, in the zone, or "on" all the time. We see it played out when celebrities get caught doing something stupid, or a politician admits to some "corrupt" act. When I yell at my kids, swear at the driver that cut me off, or give credence to the "not enough" voices in my head.
On the other hand, our Divine nature calls us to live beyond our humanity. Wallowing in the "bad" things we do and resigning ourselves to our imperfection is a cop out. Saying "I told you I was trouble. You know that I'm no good." - with apologies to Amy Winehouse - is a cop out. We owe it to ourselves - to our highest good and to the people who need us to share our divine gifts - to keep showing up, warts and all.
When I meet someone for the first time that's previously watched my videos or read my blog, invariably, they say something about how inspiring I am because I have the courage to just show up as I am. That me "being vulnerable" is some kind of salve for them that gives them hope and courage to show up for themselves, too.
I used to think it was a back-handed way of saying "you could at least put on some makeup in those videos!" See how I couldn't even receive the compliment that was being handed to me? I was stealing from myself and robbing them of the gift of true gratitude.
Recently, though, I've noticed more and more people saying the same thing - as if my vulnerability is a gift I get to shine into the world for those who need it.
I'll be the first person to tell you I'm not perfect (my kids would probably be the second). It's part of why I don't show up with flashy videos and perfectly coiffed hair. My dishes are regularly undone, my house it quite often in disarray, and don't even think about looking at my desk right now - I'm not sure you could find it.
I've lied. I cheated. I've been "the other woman" - on more than one occasion. I've been mean, cruel, and just a downright "bad" person. And, as my favorite poet likes to remind us, still I rise.
Why?
Because my Divinity refuses to let my Humanity own me. Each day is another chance to stand up to the shadows of all my yesterdays, shine a light and say "screw you yesterday, I'm going to show up and keep trying to do better."
Not "do perfect." Do better.
My Humanity also refuses to let my Divinity own me. Because each day is another day for me to experience joy, emotion, respect, fear, lightness, darkness, faith, courage, happiness, anger, rage, and all the other emotions that are part of the human experience.
It's difficult to see the world through one eye. You're constantly craning your neck to see what you're missing. If you have two eyes, it seems senseless to cover one of them and pretend it doesn't exist. Why not put it to good use and see the rest of the world around you?
Why indeed. It's much harder to live life pretending you're perfect (or evil). You're constantly shift around to keep people from seeing the side you wish to ignore. If you have two sides, it seems senseless to cover one of them up and pretend it doesn't exist. Why not put it to good use and let us (and yourself) experience you showing up fully in the world around you?
About a year ago, my husband and I bought a Porsche. We call it "The Time Machine" because it's really a blast from the past.
When we bought it, we got the expected commentary from friends and family:
"A Porsche? Really? How can you afford that?"
"What are you going to do with a Porsche? It's way too small for your family."
"Mom, can I have it when I graduate from high school?"
... and on and on.
When they found out it was a Porsche 924 - a classic from 1977 - and we only paid about $1500 for it, the comments took a different turn:
"What are you going to do with an old beat up car?"
"Forget it! I don't want my friends seeing me in an OLD car!"
"That's $1500 more than I would have paid."
"Does it have seatbelts?"
"Regular or unleaded gas?"
... and my favorite: "Can you even fit in that thing?"
One guy I used to know - who owns a limited edition Porsche Panamera (valued around $75k) - liked to poke fun and ask me when we were going to get a real Porsche. He'd say to me "Don't you want to see yourself someday in a new Porsche?"
I wonder if he'd say that to his wife - who is about 20 years his junior. 🙂
Last summer was a rough one for us. After two years of trying to keep a failing business venture afloat, and some personal financial issues around the health of our kids, we made a tough decision (more…)
It took Bart Howard well over 20 years.
Bart was a piano player in the Blue Angel cabaret, working on his own music, in the hopes of one day working with his idol, Cole Porter.
Most musicians know the name Cole Porter. Very few know the name Bart Howard. But this one song is his legacy.
Bart wrote dozens of tunes, but none were as popular as "Fly Me To The Moon".
Bart was asked by a publisher for something simple, and in 20 minutes he cranked out this cabaret waltz. The publisher asked him to change the lyrics, but Bart refused - a move that could have jeopardized his opportunity to have this song produced. But Bart held his ground on his song. Since then, "Fly Me To The Moon" has been covered, re-arranged, and even had the time signature changed when Quincy Jones arranged a version for Frank Sinatra.
Originally titled "In Other Words," Peggy Lee recorded and later performed the song on national television. As it grew in popularity, Peggy convinced Bart to change the name to it's well known opening line.
For Bart, it was this song. The success of "Fly Me To The Moon" was such that he continued to live off the residuals of that one song for the rest of his life. It's considered a "Towering Song" in the history of contemporary popular music. In 2004, 50 years from when he wrote that tune, Bart died.
This week's song is a request from @PattyKogutek on Twitter. Thanks, Patty! It was a joy to learn this story and be able to share it with everyone.
Just one step. Just one song. Just one moment. That's all it takes to make history. What will you do?
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"I am enjoying showing up as myself more completely."
That was the nugget of gold I rendered from my weekend intensive with my coach this past weekend. Once a quarter I sojourn in Minnesota for a few days to do deeper work to heal my "stuff" and open up blocks around my mindset. Because I'm a coach myself, I know the value of having a different perspective to help me open my eyes to my own hangups about success and how my life "should" be at this point in time.
This revelation came as a surprise as much as it came as a soothing realization. There's ease in showing up as myself - without worry or self-censorship. Granted, there are times when a little tact is recommended, but to just be myself fully - warts, sparkles, and all - is a gift I'm learning to give myself (and the world) more regularly.
Comparisonitis is a dreadful condition. It's a horrible inflammation of the ego, causing immense discomfort about who you are, and overall dissatisfaction with anything you've accomplished. When you suffer from Comparisonitis, everyone else is always farther along, doing better, making more money, living the life you believe "should" be yours. There's no sense of satisfaction, and often you feel guilt - like there's something wrong with you, or you need to be doing more.
Comparisonitis is fear in disuise. Instead of doing what we can where we're at, we're constantly comparing ourselves to every Tom, Dick, and Jane out there that appears to be in a better position than us.
One of my first (and admittedly worst) cases of Comparisonitis was with a contemporary colleague of mine. It was around 2008, and another coach was having what appeared to be way more success and making way more money than me. We both launched our businesses about the same time, and I was frustrated at how much exposure she was getting, how many "big name" people were talking her up, and how she looked like she was on the fast track to success.
What I didn't know was that all that surface shine came at a great cost to her personal life. She had taken out a second mortgage on her home so she could invest in all the programs that those "big names" were offering, which came with a promise of promoting her stuff to their audience. Ultimately, she ended up divorcing her husband and starting over on a much smaller scale. She tried to leapfrog and wasn't ready for the hard landing that comes from such a high jump.
You don't know what's going on in someone else's world. Stop comparing your success to theirs. (click to tweet)
There's a difference between Comparisonitis and benchmarking - which I'll get to in a minute - but for now, realize that your first step in moving beyond Comparisonitis is to stop "shoulding" on yourself.
I forget where I first heard the phrase, but if you've worked with me for any length of time, you've heard me use it. We get so caught up in the "shoulds" - instead of accepting (and maybe even embracing) where we are now. I think Mark Silver over at Heart of Business said it to me best:
"As long as you are in comparison, you are rejecting what is true [for yourself], and you are not able to be present to what is... People make up stories to protect themselves from having to surrender to what is currently true for them."
- Mark Silver"
When we're not focused on what is, we're focused on what we think should be happening, what we should be doing, what we should be experiencing. All that does is create more anxiety, more guilt, and more frustration about where we are not, instead of appreciating where we are.
Yet, if we stop comparing ourselves to anyone (except our past selves), we can see how far we've come in our lifetime, despite the obstacles, trials, fear, worry, doubt, and pressure to be something other than who and what we are.
When I look back on my life (instead of comparing that life to someone else), I'm really proud of what I've accomplished, who I've become, and what's on the radar for my future. I get a chance to appreciate my own awesomeness (without arrogance), instead of poo-pooing and downplaying my life because it's not "enough" compared to someone else.
My coach has helped me practice what she calls "AWOJAWA" - awareness without judgement, awareness with acceptance. We often think that pain, discomfort and other feelings of that ilk are "bad" and to be avoided. While it's true that I wouldn't want to live there all the time, sometimes pain can be a powerful tool for recognizing a need to change. Fear can be a powerful motivator to get stuff done. It's not good or bad, it just is.
Likewise, we think that happiness, pride, peace, joy and other feelings of that ilk are "good" and to be sought after. Yet, how much happiness is there in chasing joy? How healthy is it to be peacefully blissed out and completely unaware of the 8 year old setting fire to your kitchen?
It's not good or bad, it just is. We are the ones putting all the judgment labels on our emotions.
Comparisonitis still flares up in me from time to time, and I do my best to use a healthier way to track my growth and progress. Benchmarking is an idea that's used a lot in corporate worlds, and one that I think we can use beneficially in other ways. The idea is to look to a standard and measure our results compared to that standard.
But here's the kicker - you can't measure to some external standard. Take for example, my weight loss journey. If I constantly compared myself to every other woman that was more than 100 pounds overweight, observed the charts and "standards" that governing health agencies said were ideal, I'd be miserable.
My standard, instead, is consistency. What can I do consistently? I can run - if I'm pushed - but I can't sustain that. I hate running (for now anyway). What can I do - and do it consistently? I can get off my butt and dance around my house for 10 minutes a day. Will that cause me to lose 100 pounds overnight? Nope. But once I'm consistent at 10 minutes, I can increase it to 15, and so on.
So I benchmark my progress against my own reasonable standard. Will I get there as fast as I want to - as fast as I think I should?
Um nope. But I'll be making healthier choices more consistently... which eventually leads to the result I want.
Did you hear that? I'll let you take a minute for that to sink in. You are already a success. How's THAT grab ya?
In benchmarking, I'm allowed to see myself as already successful. Because I'm comparing myself now to what I've already done, and what's doable for me going forward. I can celebrate my wins NOW instead of waiting for "someday" in the great beyond.
Tomorrow never comes, yo. And yesterday is always gone. Insert cheesy cliches about embracing this moment here.
So in showing up fully as myself - as often as I can - I get to experience the grace and beauty of my own success. I get to draw closer to the Divine ideal of my life - whatever that is. I'm still figuring it out.
Here's another tidbit I gleaned from Mark - if we look at "excellence" (or "success" in this case) as a way to Master our world, we miss out on the other, more glorious result - we draw closer to the Divine.
So becoming myself more fully means I'm becoming excellent at being myself - instead of becoming something else that moves me farther and farther away from Divine Alignment.
Showing up as myself more completely means I own who I am, and I speak from my true voice - my truth - warts, sparkles, and all. Which, I think, is part of why I'm here on the planet in the first place. God doesn't make extra parts and pieces. We all have a gift and the only way we can share it is if we share it from our true self. I think Judy Garland said something about being a first rate version of yourself instead of a second rate version of someone else. Why would you want to be a second rate version of anything?
It's so important that we understand how important we are - how important YOU are in this world. What do you see as your gifts? And what are you doing to share them with the world - fully as yourself?
"Let me be a lesson to you of what NOT to do."
When you're a celebrity on par with Jonah Hill, that's probably not the ideal phrase to be uttering to your fans. In this case, though, Jonah's sincere apology on The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon after being caught on camera making a grossly inappropriate comment has done a lot to mend fences.
[I'll also go on the record as being ignorant, because I didn't realize the comment he made was now considered "a homophobic slur". I grew up hearing that phrase from men and women alike in my neighborhood. Not that it was a pleasant thing to hear, I was just a little surprised that it was a nuanced term.]
From the paparazzi video, it's hard to know exactly what was said, but Jonah indicated he and his family were being verbally attacked on a personal level by the photographer and "was genuinely hurt by this... and in response wanted to hurt him back".
To borrow a line from The Dixie Chicks: "There's your trouble!"
(more…)(Author's note: this post originally appeared in 2011 on one of my old blogs. I've freshened it up a bit for you today.)
One of the things that really annoys me are those folks that say they want change, but don't take action when answers are provided.
It dawned on me why they don't budge.
Picture a huge file room in your brain. There's a file clerk in there, taking in "evidence" for the various files in the "cabinets."
The file clerk never takes a break. He's contstantly filing away bits of information in the various files.
Let's say, in one cabinet, you have two files, one marked "I can't sing", the other marked "I'm a good singer."
Then let's say you're invited to sing in a local Karaoke contest.
Quickly, you run to the file clerk and say "pull out the files to help me decide what to do!"
The file clerk, never missing a beat, pulls out two files. One is significantly larger than the other. The one that says "I can't sing" weighs 100 pounds, while the other has only a few slips of paper inside.
(more…)This was the finale from our show this month. Needless to say, this was one of those "dream come true" moments for me. When I first started writing this song a couple of years ago, it begged to be played with a band. The Damn Whippersnappers do not disappoint, and Kris' solo is just the soulful kind of melody the song needed.
I heard a whisper on the wind
and an echo in my heart trying to tell me to begin.
I knew the words, held deep inside,
but the spirit wouldn't flow
and no matter how I tried
to fill the void of distant spaces
with the workings machinating in my mind,
to find true love in vacant faces,
it was you. You were with me all the time.
And you will never know what love can do.
My wounds are deep, I can't deny.
And the salty rivers flow down my face 'til they run dry.
I ran away, in shame and pride,
but the echo in my heart keeps telling me to try.
And once again your love is calling with the words so gentle and so clear
I'd give my heart, I know I'm falling into faith.
I just want to have you near.
And you will never know what love can do.
Once again your love is calling with the words so gentle and so clear
I'd give my life, I know I'm falling into faith.
I just want to have you near.
Consecrated deep inside, emancipated, satisfied.
And you will never know what love can do.
(Lyrics copyright 2012 Lisa Robbin Young. All Rights Reserved.)
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Saturday, May 17, 2014, will be the day I count as the day my dream began anew. My whole life I wanted to be on a stage and perform for an international audience. Well, the first installment of the Front Row Sessions played host to people in London, Canada, and all over the US.
It's the first time in my life I've had the honor of playing my own original music with a live band. And WHAT a band! The Damn Whippersnappers are simply a fabulous bunch of boys - and fun, too. This monologue and song opened the show and set the tone for what I believe (from all the comments on social media) was a powerful and fun afternoon for everyone watching. This was also the debut performance for my new song, "Photoshop Me" - a song about self acceptance and being proud of who you are (the song starts around the 6:40 mark).
This afternoon wouldn't have happened without this awesome band I call The Damn Whippersnappers:
Piano: Desmond Sheppard
Bass: Owen Ananich
Drums: Joe Neminski
Guitar: Kris Kress
It also wouldn't have happened without the gracious support from the folks at Gigee.com and my behind-the-scenes team of Tanya Brayer and Jen Harris. They kept the broadcast working like a charm and the chat room hopping.
And lastly, this dream come true wouldn't have had any meaning without an audience. My fans all over the world are the biggest reason I put this show together. THANK YOU for being so awesome and supportive!
Each time I go to my coach's weekend intensives, I always walk away with lots of ideas that pop like "popcorn" over the coming weeks. Sometimes they come in the most unusual ways.
For example, I was back in my hotel room, kind of winding down for the night. After a weekend like this, you can be emotionally raw, which means I can cry at the drop of a hat.
This video took me over the edge. Not only is it a powerful display of courage, but also conviction, commitment, and to staying the course when it comes to owning your dreams. Watch (you might need tissue), and I'll share some key lessons after. (more…)
