Photo by Suzy Hazelwood
I’ve been wrestling with a bit of depression lately. A bit is kind of a lie. And I’m not sure if depression is exactly right either. What do you call exhaustion, fear, desperation, apathy, overwhelm and confusion all mixed together? Whatever that is, that’s what I’ve been feeling. It’s tricky to say the least. Oh yea, and menopause and being a mom to a teenage boy. As I type these words I want to either cry or laugh (but not the good kind of laugh.
The weight of struggle is real. It’s nearly impossible to be productive from this space. Fortunately, I have people around me who are beacons of light.
Finding Light in Unexpected Places
Ralph, my office mate, is a finance guy who couldn’t be more different from me. He sits on zoom calls all day talking through financial forecasts. When I walk to our shared kitchen I see graphs and charts on his monitor that make my eyes blur. A couple of times a day we find a few minutes to chat, always initiated by him. This quiet guy who seems almost shy, asks about my son, shares his opinions about the state of the world, and explores my thinking. I feel so comforted by just knowing that this person I would never recognize as such on the street is actually a huge ally.
The Strength of Community
My colleagues are steady, ready and willing. Changes in the political and economic environment have a huge impact on our work and their day to day realities. Yet, every day I can bet on Ali showing up on a zoom call, walking on her treadmill and with a macha in hand, fully focused on what needs to be done today, willing and able to adjust to an ever changing reality. Other members of our team are the same, one foot in front of the next, helpful can-do attitudes leading the way.
Shared Wisdom, Collective Growth
At our recent facilitator team meeting each person shared updates from their neck of the woods. Everyone lives in different states and many have institutional affiliations beyond DJA, so the perspective sharing is always helpful. Some folks were looking for more opportunities to lead within their various communities, others more vacation time. Katrina had recently returned to the US from Australia, her home of origin and where she is the co-founder of an MBA program for Indigenous Peoples. She spoke from her tradition about the importance of calling on our ancestors, especially when we seek wisdom. “They have been where we are. They have strategies for doing hard things. We have to enlist their guidance, and slow down to listen.”
The way that I opened this blog and the next three paragraphs are examples of stories. As I wrote the opening paragraph my body and heart felt heavy, constricted, sad, depleted. The simple act of writing, and pausing to think of just the right words to describe the people and my appreciation for them in the next three paragraphs shifted me. Washing through me is a wave of gratitude, I literally have a smile on my face right now.
Through sharing my stories with you, I model how to move from a place of despair to a place of gratitude, love and resilience. My technique is to be vulnerable, sharing honestly about my own limited thinking and beliefs, and then calling upon the deeper part of me that is resilient–to share it here with you.
Modeling this level of vulnerability is not always comfortable, but it’s what I signed up for. And so did you, if you are a leader of any kind–formal or informal, work, school, family or social setting, we all have a role to play in the stories we tell, experience, and then contribute to with the people we care about.
Modeling does not just benefit others, it transforms the person performing the act. Writing this blog, with the intent of modeling, forces me to remember my why–my purpose beyond the current experience I am having. Beyond the noise. Our whys are powerful, important, and easy to lose sight of when we are being jostled about by forces that feel outside of our control.
Remember your why and anchor to it.
We are resilient. We are able to do hard things. We do not have to agree to only do hard things–Lord knows once people believe us to be strong they keep giving us the hard things to do. But we must be willing to do hard things when everything is on the line. Like now.
What is the story we are telling ourselves right now? How do we populate our story with a cast that moves us from us being alone to figure it all out by ourselves–like Tom Hanks in Castaway–to a fulsome array of characters who are all co-conspiring with us in pursuit of the same happily ever after? We can shape our shared narrative. Let’s select our cast carefully, identify the role we want to play, and make ours a story of hope, unity, and unwavering strength.