Treasure Map: My Journey Home

I had a good chat with my friend MJ last night - too short as always, but still very revealing. I listened to myself speak and felt wave after wave roll though me as I confided my uncertainty and sense of longing when it comes to writing. I continue to have this need for a destination, a need for something more. My life is wonderful and yet I still crave something - and the missing ingredient far too often is me.

I can fill lots of roles, meet any kind of external expectation but when it comes to me, I feel a bit lost. Furthermore, I find that "lostness" hard to confide but there is no point to denying it because it is always threading its way through my writing and my conversations.

When I first sold my business and a few months before becoming pregnant with Baby S, my husband asked me, "So what's the plan?" I know I could have made up a bunch of possible plans in a heartbeat, but none of them would have meant anything. My answer; "There is no plan." Why, because I have lived with a plan for so long, usually reflecting someone else's expectations, that I felt I needed to discover what it is to live without a goal, at least for awhile.

Well, I'm not liking it much, I can tell you that! And yet, I can't betray myself once again by entertaining the thought of committing to a plan that doesn't fully reflect me. And so I continue to wait for clarity to arrive while I test various directions, trying them out to see how they feel.

I keep coming back to writing. Writing is where my true self lives. It is where I can find myself in the mist of a day full of the cries of a teething baby, the needs of my older son and the myriad of things I have willingly taken on to support my family. Writing is the place where I emerge, where I begin to remember the wholeness of me. I'm not mommy or wife or friend or organizer here. I'm just me. I might be a mixed up, bone tired me - but I'm still 100% me.

My conversation with MJ last night highlighted my sense of disconnection and underscored why I continue to write. This blog is my breadcrumb trail back to me. Its the evidence that I continue to exist and its fulfills my desire to be seen in the world. When asked about why writing a book is important to me I discovered its because I want to be heard somewhere other than in my own head. I also want a conversation that isn't distilled to just a few lines but that can grow and evolve over a longer stretch, even if it is conceived in little snippets.

Before any of that can happen, I have to show up more completely in my own life. I hadn't realized how I had begun to shrink. Back to the body image stuff - it would seem that my increasing girth is inversely proportional to my shrinking presence these days. I'm falling into old habits as I make new friends. I'm pulling myself back and diluting my intensity in both fun and serious matters.

And where does that leave me at this moment? I'll keep you posted because this is what I believe my book is about - uncertainty. Between uncertainty and a precise goal there is a whole range of experiences, possibilities and discoveries to be made. Since I am journeying through this territory, I have decided to begin creating a map as I pass though self doubt to self trust, from static old identity to one that is in constant flux and the many other destinations that have yet to be uncovered. This map will be a record of my journey and perhaps offer a few sign posts to other explorers. I need to write it because its my treasure map back to me.

Phfttttttt.......

Phfttttttt.......The exhalation begins. And with it, much of the tension in my body begins to dissolve. I've been holding this breath for so long that it is only as I begin to let it go that I can notice how stretched and strained I have been. Try it - puff out your cheeks and notice the prickly burn that sneaks in within seconds. No wonder I have felt like there are ants under my skin!

While I have been merrily spinning around in my life, something else has been stirring. An urge to express what I can't seem to find words for. It is as though all my creative bursts over the past month have just been the tremors for what is yet to come. My growing inner agitation is more like excitement when I stop and notice how it dances through my body.

I've been holding my breath in a vain attempt to manage something that I have never experienced before. I'm trying to squeeze this urge to express into a nice, orderly structure. Something manageable and tidy. Something that doesn't disrupt any one's schedule - including mine - and that doesn't rock the boat. You know the old drill - don't step on any one's toes. This feels like trying to wedge a Hippo into a broom closet all the while pretending not to notice that its bulging out all over the place!!

The conversation that dances between the parts of myself sounds something like this:

"Hippo? What Hippo? Oh - you mean that little thing. Well, I was going to tell you about it when there was a good time."

"Yes, I know its a bit large and unwieldy and it will cause a bit of disruption in our routine."

"Oh and I know what it costs to feed Hippos these days - never mind the vet bills! But you see, it followed me home one day and I can't seem to shake it. It was pretty little at the time but since I started to feed it - well, as you can see, it has really grown. And, I must confess, I've gotten pretty attached to it."

" No I don't have a name for it yet. I'm starting to learn how to speak 'Hippo' and I'm sure it will tell me its name in the near future."

"Yes, I've been getting a bit nervous around it too. Its awfully big - but I've seen those cartoons of Hippos in tutus and it gives me comfort to know that such a large beast has a sense of humor and some grace. I think it will be alright if I let it out of the closet."

"Yes - I will take responsibility for care and feeding - and, yes, for cleaning up Hippo crap too!"

And thus, with exhalation (and not one of exasperation, I might add!) project Hippo is revealed. Its up to me to continue care and feeding - and now that I'm not trying to compress this poor beast any longer, I wonder what fun and havoc it will wreak in my tidy, orderly little world.

By the way, does anyone know how long it takes to learn to speak Hippo?

Waiting to Exhale

I've been having a hard time getting back into the swing of writing these days. I suppose, like so many things in life, there is an ebb and flow when it comes to writing. Its as natural as breathing in and breathing out - usually.

Seems like I've been a bit stuck on the inhale of late ... ahh ....inspiration. I wrote a few days back about how some conversations just seem to stick around until we choose to either move on or make our peace with them. In both instances there is room for something new to blossom in their place. At the moment I feel a bit like I have fully exhaled and with that here has been a rush of creativity evidenced throughout last month in blogging, baking, decorating, entertaining.

These past few days feel more like the pause before the inhalation begins. There is a still point in between breaths - an anticipatory moment. A beat in time that is in limbo between the two states. I feel like I am wandering there.

In this still point I notice that I can choose what it is that will fuel my next breath. What will my inspiration bring to me? Will I continue to indulge in mindless TV or will I seek out something more stimulating? Will I jump into the many different social events that seem to jostle each other trying to elbow their way into an already busy schedule once November comes along ? Or will I be more selective, choosing quality over quantity, exhilaration over the exhaustion of over-extension?

For the past few days my temperament is best described as all itchy and sharp edged. There is something floating just below the surface that feels gritty and prickly. I'm restless and indolent all at the same time.

Its like that feeling when you have when you bet a friend that you can hold your breath under water longer than they can - just because. And there you are under the surface with the golden light swirling just above, feeling like time has stopped even while your heartbeat ticks off the seconds as it begins pounding in your ears, the squeeze of pressure growing in your chest, clawing its way up your throat to your mouth, your nose and finally the pulse behind your eyes and ears becomes deafening and you burst through the surface gasping and laughing all at the same time!

If we could remember being born - I wonder if it would feel that way? Is that why its so fun to play that game? Maybe its because we are always certain of our next breath. And so we stretch ourselves, we dare ourselves all in the quest for the moment when we break the surface and suck in that sweet air .... and know that we are alive. We are alive and feeling the sun warming the top of our head and breathing deeply and laughing hard.

Inhale ... exhale. .. inhale .... exhale - the ebb and flow that is our life continues. The ebb and flow that is MY life continues, even if I have yet to break the surface. I'm mesmerized by the light dancing on ripples, lulled by the slowing of time under here. I can feel my heartbeat growing more insistent, pulsing, urging me forward toward the surface. Reminding me that I need to let out the breath that I have been holding in order to suck in that fresh, sweet air.

My problem hasn't been inspiration .... it is that I've been holding my breath for so long that I've forgotten to exhale. I'm attempting to stack breath upon breath. And in the space where inspiration could happen, there is a stale balloon of something completed and waiting to be released.

Exhale... inhale...exhale ...THAT is the rhythm of my life and I'm shooting to the surface.....

Ousting the Tyrant

I've been away from my computer for the past few days and I noticed how challenged I felt to return today. Its not that I don't enjoy writing my blog, its more like a feeling of stiffness and disuse.It takes a few keystrokes to loosen up. The clue for me today was noticing how tempted I was to ramble on as I wrote an email to a friend. Once my fingers started moving, a whole conversation started pouring out. It was then I recognized that I've been in conversation with myself for the past little while and I didn't like where it was taking me.


It seems that when I'm not writing, the conversation in my head starts moving faster and faster, swirling like dust in the wake of a speeding car. I think I am both the speeding car and the dust! Part of me keeps moving ahead and the other bits, things like habitual thoughts, keep swirling and spinning until they settle down again, resigned to be obsolete. Sometimes that road looks mighty dusty! And sometimes there is more dust on my car than I care to admit!

Writing seems to help those repeated thoughts find their home. I can only stand to write the same thing a few times over (alright - some times its closer to 20 -30 times over!) before I get the message and do something about it. Its really difficult to face yourself on the page or the screen only to discover that you are still whining, rambling, wishing , hoping... you get the picture. It gives me great insight into the murmuring that goes on under the surface. Murmurs that I have long since grown bored of and now try to tune out. Murmurs that become insistent over time and begin to wear down familiar paths simply by virtue of their repetition.

Giving those murmurs voice is a the start of a making a choice. I can stick with the very familiar refrain and in doing so admit to myself that I am making a conscious choice to whine, ramble and generally marinate in this state. Alternatively, I can begin to choose something different.

Lately I've been marinating in thoughts of body image. I tell myself over and over again how fat I am ... all the while eating mini-chocolate bars! I remind myself that I really should get moving ... and by this I mean more than simply chew, chew, swallow!

I am even catching myself in the midst of the most unlikely moments taking pot shots at myself. Yesterday while enjoying the musical Dirty Dancing, I was taking in the incredibly toned and flexible physiques of the dancers (not just the guys, I swear!) and I could hear myself whispering, "you'll never look that fit". Well of course not! Unless I plan to join a professional dance troupe, rehearse for hours every day for the next 10 years and in the process, turn back my biological clock by about the same number of years. Acckkk! What a crazy-making Tyrant I have living in my head!

And I continue to feed that nasty Tyrant ... both food and energy. I listen to it. I let it walk all over me. I take on its messages about how I can never be enough and I have to ask myself WHY??!!

I'm not really sure I have the answer. I suspect that it is partially because, as nasty as this critter is, it is familiar. It has occupied such a large position in my psyche that there would be a tremendous void if I were to exorcise it. I suppose it might be a bit like an abusive relationship in that it soothes me by telling me its looking out for my best interests. Its making sure that I keep on top of things. It is there to motivate me to prove myself and to perform, perform, perform. Its keeping me from becoming too noticeable. It keeps me "humble". It saves me from failing by encouraging me never to try and it reminds me of all the past losses and gains. And it heaps shame on my head for ever thinking I could be successful at shaping my outside to fit my inside.

Well, here is the thing - I'm tired to listening to the Tyrant. I'm tired of it's use and abuse. I'm tired of giving up precious mental, emotional and spiritual real estate for it to squat on like the worst tenant a landlord could imagine. I'm tired of allowing it to shape me - inside and out, because I DO look like it tells me I should. Its brand of protection is more like extortion. I am not willing to continue to pay the price any more.

I have no idea where this leads but I do know the Tyrant has its little fingers in just about every aspect of my thinking. Heck! If it even shows up at the theatre while I'm having a good time, then its gotten even further out of check than I had noticed. As for the void this nasty saboteur will leave behind, - BRING IT ON! I can't wait to see what will sprout in its place one this weed is removed.

Now I know that somewhere along the line, my Tyrant was a useful creation but oh my, has it outworn its usefulness. I dare say it has now moved from nuisance to menace. I simply cannot allow it to continue to flourish because its choking the life out of other things - including me. Its stealing enjoyment and self-confidence. Its eating up energy and sending me seeking ways to refuel myself ... ways that include chocolate binges.

So for the next few days I will give the Tyrant its opportunity to share its whining, wheedling voice on my journal pages so that it can blow itself out. Like so many bullies, I'm pretty sure that once it is revealed for the weak-kneed, controlling and shallow creature that it is, it will beat a hasty retreat. Most often its messages are more than ridiculous, they are not even founded on reality! So instead of meekly accepting them with head bowed, I'm going to stare it in the eye and give it a reality check, question, get curious about and quite possibly talk back to it. And in the end, I will simply choose to stop empowering this part of myself because it is no longer required.

And what about the part of me that is speeding ahead? Well, it is a creative fire that is growing hotter by the day. I am simply bursting with ideas, possibilities and pure joy. I found myself giggling over the Spider cupcakes I made for my son's class and the gnarly Witch's Finger cookies I baked that looked so realistic. I'm knitting. I'm writing. I'm planning the decor of our new home. I'm cooking. I'm playing. And somewhere in the midst of it all, I noticed the thought "I'm not willing to give up all this joy ever again."

I know that in the past I have squeezed out those things to make room for work and obligation. Even now, I fight the urge to be in constant motion -cleaning, organizing, packing. Doing things joylessly simply because I call them work. This week I finally allowed myself to notice that I can do them all joyfully. That my creativity is in how I choose to do them. Those tasks aren't penance in order to get back to what I enjoy - they are part of the whole dance. One feeds the other and I get to decide how much pleasure I take in living my life. Score one for me, none for the Tyrant on this front. No wonder it is pressing its cause these days. It must sense impending annihilation!

The Parent Trap - revised

After first posting this piece I felt like it was incomplete somehow. In fact, I was so restless that I spent a few hours in the middle of the night seeking clarity on the things that felt unfinished and unsaid. There is a lot to be explored in this topic and I feel as though I've just scratched the surface. I'm done with this post for now but I know the conversation will continue. To each of you who contacted me, many thanks! Your feedback keeps me going :)

This has been a stellar weekend so far. Its cool and rainy outside and inside, I am wrapped in the warmth of my family. Medium R officially turns 6 tomorrow. I remember the progression of this night 6 years ago but without the detail that I expected. The memories have already taken on a patina. The rough edges of a long labour have softened. The combination of terror and exhilaration at giving birth to my first child is now eclipsed my sense of amazement at who he is becoming. Baby S is not one to be outdone and he is quickly pushing his limits, seeming to have moved from newborn to active infant in the span of the fastest three months that I have lived!

Tonight I can ignore the fact that going to the grocery store was my 30 minutes of "alone" time AND that I enjoyed it! I can get over the my ignorance as to what movies have been block busters this season - heck! this YEAR! I can see beyond the sea of toys, hot wheels and dirty dishes that litter what used to be the most sophisticated room in my home. When I step on yet another painful bit of Lego camouflaged in the carpet - I can grin and bear it. What I'm getting at is that my life barely resembles what it used to. Its messy, loud and chaotic much of the time with very little time for my personal pursuits - and yet its great - because I chose it wholeheartedly.

Its at these times, when the smell of apple crisp wafts through every room and the boys, even the dog, are freshly bathed that my contentment knows no bounds. Its in these moments that I know that I made the right choices for me. What a relief!

I've been reading "Eat, Pray, Love" and I could really identify with the author's struggle to come to terms with her life. Her eventual discovery that she did not want the "dream" of nice house, marriage and children reflects the struggle that many women have when it comes to deciding what is right for them. Waking up one day, she told herself the "truth" and left behind a marriage and lifestyle that was costing her health and happiness. Sometimes what is the right path is one that leads you away from what is expected by everyone else in your life.

There have been many times in my life when I really wondered if I was on the right track. Making decisions that had a lot of heart but were hard to support intellectually or even explain, I kept forging ahead and doing my best to have faith in myself. One thing that I was sure about was my desire to be a Mom. I just wasn't sure how it was going to fit into my life.

I remember someone once telling me that if I waited to have children until I was "ready" that I'd never get around to it. I think that what she meant was that it was okay to be imperfect as a parent. I felt half-baked at the time, having more questions than answers in my life. I knew I still had a lot of growing to do. I felt like I needed to be perfectly together -whatever that means, before having kids. Since then, I have realized that there really isn't any end point to my own growth. There was no secret "level" that I needed to get to in order to be ready. My kids have been a key to my emerging self. I'm growing along with them.

How else would I have discovered that my nearly 6 year old can drive better that I can? he can barely reach the pedals and has to peer through the steering wheel but he is clearly the better driver- at least when it comes to "Need For Speed" on the computer. After he whoops my ass he consoles me with , "Its okay Mommy, you only crashed 7 times. That's a LOT better than last time!" I also discovered that my inner drama queen lives on and will come out to joust from time to time. I am learning how to play again and I can't believe that I forgot. Yes,it is in these moments I'm really grateful that my kids have taken me on as their student.

In spite of my trepidation at becoming a parent, I always knew that I wanted to have children. I was absolutely crushed to discover that after all those years of trying NOT to get pregnant, when the time came to conceive it seemed as though I couldn't. I could and likely will write pages and pages on my journey through "infertility" - just not today.

Today I would rather talk about the Parent Trap. The societal belief system that presumes we should all want to bring children into the world. There are all kinds of reasons that people have children and many of them are quite misguided in my opinion. Having a child for a specific purpose other than honouring the miracle that they are, is irresponsible. Children do not save a marriage - they become another hostage in a hopeless situation. They are not pawns to live out your fantasies, to be used to live vicariously through. They are not chattel.

Far too many people have their ambivalence tip toward having children simply because by tacit agreement all women in their child bearing years "should" be settling down and having families. If they aren't then they suffer judgements about their ambition and priorities in life. I know that on more than one occasion as I struggled silently with infertility, people would take it upon themselves to politely upbraid me about my priorities in life. Perhaps I should be less ambitious in my career. Maybe I should work less and give up being a business woman. Little did they understand that my work and business were my outlets for much of my grief and longing. The list of "helpful" suggestions, was long and hurtful even if it was well intentioned. It gave me incredible insight into how you can be treated when you are perceived to be stepping out of the pack when it comes to having children.

I am blessed to know a number of fabulous women at a variety of ages who have made the conscious choice to not have children. Their fertility isn't the issue. No, they made a very clear choice in spite of the pressures that be. They were able to hold tight to the vision of who they are and who they could become - and a mother was not a part of that identity. I applaud them!

There is no substitute to being completely clear within yourself about who you are and who you want to become when it comes to crafting your life. That clarity and commitment to yourself will guide you through the quagmire of to be or not to be a parent and all the stuff that will inevitably arise no matter what your choice. If you are ambivalent and sitting on the fence, you should know that just like any other choice in life, there are consequences on both sides of the equation.

Your capacity to survive and thrive once you decide has a lot to do with how clear you are about yourself so that you own your choice. Don't sell yourself out based on public opinion. And please don't hedge your bets about whether you will be alone in old age - having children doesn't guarantee companionship and care taking into your golden years.

Not making a choice ... is still a choice! Sorry to point it out but I would be doing my job if I didn't tell it to you straight. Nothing wrong with that. Its okay to wait for clarity but don't fool yourself into thinking you can avoid a decision forever. Who wants to wake up one day and realize that their life is what it is by default?

If you are about to embark on the stage of life where the question of having children is becoming more insistent, avoiding the parent trap is only possible by knowing yourself first. You don't have to know yourself perfectly or even feel like you have mastered this thing called life. You simply have to allow yourself the opportunity to become still and quiet so that you can hear and feel what you want...what you really, really, really want. You already know the answer - I believe that. Just be honest with yourself. If you are questioning yourself, take a moment to decide is it your voice that you hear or is it the clamour of someone else's beliefs and opinions? Is it your Mom's desire to be a Grandmother? Is it your friends who are changing lifestyles based on the choices that they have made? Is it your partner's dream but not yours - or vice versa?

Don't unwittingly fall into the Parent Trap - becoming 'trapped' in beliefs that aren't a reflection of what you want. Parenting has a lot of tough, exhausting, challenging, heart breaking moments. It is also a wonderful beyond words - if it is what you choose. If its not what you want then I can only imagine that it would feel like a trap.

Because I Said So!

I often wonder if I inherited a melancholy gene, or perhaps it is my lineage as 50% Irish that lends me that sense of continually turning things over in my mind. As I think about it, melancholy isn't really the word I'm looking for since it implies sadness and that is not my natural state of mind.

There was a time when the bits of memory, some of them painful, would live in my body, and a memory would surface when a sensory cue would come along - usually something unexpected like a smell or a few notes of a song, and transport me to another time and place in my life. Many memories were a slow accumulation of granules and things with sharp edges. Things I was continually trying to avoid bumping into. Things my physical body actually learned to encapsulate and bend and weave around so that tissue actually conformed itself into different shapes. As a Physiotherapist by training, I will tell you unequivocally that this has been my personal and professional experience for 15+ years, as extraordinary as it sounds - but exploration of that notion belongs elsewhere for the moment.

Over time these bits of personal memory have become more like pearls. Their rough edges smoothed out and polished to a soft sheen. There smoothness having less to do with repeated handling and more to do with simply allowing them to find their place and integrate into my life's experience.

I'm not sure what word I would chose to describe my desire and deep pleasure at being willing and able to dive deep under the surface of my life. In this world below the surface I see patterns repeating. Some with great beauty and intricacy and some others....well, they are more like the fun house mazes I remember at the fair!

There is something magical to me about this other dimension. It seems that its in this space that I learn all kinds of things about myself. In fact, I don't take myself too seriously here because it is as though I am a patient parent when I observe the events of my life from this perspective. I watch my fumbles and foibles, my "serious" events, along with those random weird things that happen in life with compassion and amusement. I see the bigger picture. The me that watches "me" just feels so much larger than all of the stuff that gets played out on the surface. If I listen closely, I give myself great advice!

I remember a conversation a while back where someone asked me why I thought everything must "mean" something more. I really didn't have an answer at the time, just a sense of "rightness" (and I was probably more than a little self-righteous too!). I didn't worry too much about it but it was one of those nagging questions that become like a pearl and over the past few days I think I may have discovered the "why".

Why? Because I said so! I get to assign meaning in my life and that is what makes life fun and instructive and interesting for me. Its my decision to make - how amazingly marvelous!

I think everything "means" something because that is what gives my life meaning. A bit convoluted but let me try to explain. I am not content with the status quo. I am a life long student who is quickly running out of teachers and mentor's "out there" that interest me (not to discount the many people who inspire me). The older I get the more "unteachable" I become! That is if I think of teaching as a follow the leader, follow the rules type of experience - I will not relinquish my autonomy on this front. Lately, I've become very aware that by looking beyond the veil of my ordinary life, there are a myriad of lessons just waiting - if I tutor myself.

This is leadership in my life. I am responsible for driving my own evolution and I don't presume that it is this way for everyone. I do not, however, believe that I am universally unique. I'm sure there are other folks who do the same and still others who are, like I was not too long ago, on the path to realizing that you can be your own best mentor and teacher. You are likely much more wise and together than you ever realized if you stop and listen. If you were to trust that those things with ragged edges are on their way to becoming pearls that slip easily into your experience and don't need to be pulled away from.

I don't want to imply that I have a problem with anyone who chooses not to dig deep in their lives or sift for meaning the way I do. I am a miner ( I prefer that to gold-digger!). I enjoy bringing bits of treasure to the surface. I love finding a nugget of wisdom that looks like an ordinary rock, one we trip over and pay no attention to other that to mumble "stupid rock". I find great joy in polishing that rock and finding something of value hidden in plain sight. Its not by accident that when I sat down to reinvent my blog, my inner voice very quickly tossed out the title "Mother Lode" - as if it had been waiting to be asked all along. I'm glad that I listened!

What a "Lode".....

A few days back I was surfing some random blogs when I came across an interesting post written by a guy about women and leadership. This piqued my interest so I gave it a quick read. I had just read a few other notes in the WEL-Systems blog ring about duality and paradox and so in that frame of mind I read a line that went something like this......"the unspoken truth about women and empowerment is that men are expected to fill in the void left behind as women step forward and men aren't willing to do that". Unfortunately, I haven't been able to find his blog to make sure these are his exact words-but it is the essence of what he had to say as he tried to sort out for himself where he stood on the issue.

I found myself wondering what it would be like if leadership didn't require "followers". And who says someone has to trail behind simply because someone else has stepped in their own life? He laid it out as a real "either/or" situation but couldn't it just as easily be both?! Imagine how life would be if we weren't worrying about where we were in the race and simply used our leadership skills to lead our own lives, making the most of our own potential .... and in the process of not continually looking over our shoulder or amassing piles of "subordinates" we could made room for each other to simply take ownership/leadership of our lives? What would the world look like?

Imagine this on a global scale...would the US be fighting its bloody war and dragging us all along for the ride or would it be tending to its own people such as the residents of New Orleans that continue to live in appalling conditions 2 years after Katrina? Aren't they residents of one of the world's wealthiest countries? How about the numbers of working poor in our countries? I mean the list is nearly endless.

The point is, there needn't be a vacuum to fill simply because we choose to exercise leadership - unless we need that leadership to recognized and acknowledged by someone else in order to believe it to be true. That's our old way of considering leadership and to borrow a Dr. Phil-ism "How's that workin' fer ya?"! Leadership is an "inside" job ..... its a state of mind, a state of "being" and as soon as we embrace that as a possibility, a veritable tidal wave of possibility rushes in.

Leadership like this leaves room for everyone. If I am taking full responsibility for creating my life, making the most of my talents, taking on opportunities to learn and grow - then I can stand comfortably within my own circle of influence and it doesn't need to impede yours. In fact, I may notice yours and be inspired or seek out your support but I will never need to fear that there isn't enough power to go around ... my power is mine, your is yours and once in a while, we'll over lap and create something bigger and when we are done - we'll move on.

Imagine this within a marriage, a friendship, a business relationship, nation-wide, ... internationally....what would our world look like? And it all begins within you and within me. Hmmm....now that's something to consider, don't you think?

I have never attended any of Louise's Women and Leadership experience's but I sense this may be a part of those conversations - and there is likely more.

For the men out there, who fear that they may have to be subservient to women who are taking back their "power" I simply have to say that those women never truly gave it away. They can't give you their power and you can't own it and the reverse is true as well. No one can take anyone's power if you believe it to be the essence of who they are. Power is personal and its up to each of us as individual humans to exercise it or not. Like leadership, power deserves to be redefined as something we are, an inherent state of being - not as something done to each other.

To continue to think of leadership and power as an either/or situation is getting us absolutely nowhere except deeper into the muck .... and that's why I think its a "lode"! Under the surface there is lots of potential waiting to be discovered by exploring what we presume about voids and who fills them, by examining the meaning we have historically attached to these concepts to see if it continues to be valid, by considering that this is a conversation (spoken or unspoken) that is beginning among men who, perhaps for the first time in generations, are trying to determine who they can become as the women around them wake up and step into their own personal power.

This one is worth mining in my opinion!