A week or so ago, I wrote about one thing people can do to take charge of our lives and behavior: to evaluate the stories we tell, and choose to tell and re-tell only the stories that serve us - and the rest of the world - well. (For example: We matter.)
Today I saw a video that reminded me of another thing said in our coaching seminar:
We do well to accept that life is difficult - that we are not entitled to an easy life.
Life used to be more challenging, our seminar leader said. Folks had to drag water from the water hole, etc. When our lives are relatively easy (with drinking water available from any number of faucets in the house!) our resilience suffers.
After describing the earthquake in Haiti, the terror of it, and the need to fashion a shelter from leaves and clothing, the woman in this video says, "The hard things that happened aren't 'difficulties.' It's just life as I see it."
I can't get that line out of my head . . . . That's probably a good thing; I know it is one of the stories that could serve me well. (Along with: "We are strong," and "We are not afraid to work." The woman in this video is wonderful.)
Take a few minutes to let this Haitian woman inspire you, too.
Showing posts with label resilience. Show all posts
Showing posts with label resilience. Show all posts
Friday, February 17, 2012
Thursday, February 16, 2012
"We Matter" - my friend Noell
Lying in bed last night, I couldn't stop thinking about:
my teenage daughter awash with insecurities,
my lesbian friends unable to marry legally in Virginia,
all the articles I've read recently about bullying,
and recent news that the Violence Against Women Act has become a partisan issue.
What came to mind was the scene in Kathryn Stockett's novel The Help where Aibileen Clark, a black maid, is falsely charged with stealing and has to say a quick goodbye to Mae Mobley, the white child she has raised:
"Baby Girl," I say. "I need you to remember everything I told you. Do you remember what I told you?"
She still crying steady, but the hiccups is gone. "To wipe my bottom good when I'm done?"
"No, baby, the other. About what you are."
I look deep into her rich brown eyes and she look into mine. Law, she got old-soul eyes, like she done lived a thousand years. And I swear I see, down inside, the woman she gone grow up to be. A flash from the future. She is tall and straight. She is proud. She got a better haircut. And she is remembering the words I put in her head. Remembering as a full-grown woman.
And then she say it, just like I need her to. "You is kind," she says, 'you is smart. You is important."
+ + +
I want to send a belated Valentine's Day "thank you" to the people who help us to believe such things about ourselves. May we say them over and over again, until we know they're true.
my teenage daughter awash with insecurities,
my lesbian friends unable to marry legally in Virginia,
all the articles I've read recently about bullying,
and recent news that the Violence Against Women Act has become a partisan issue.
What came to mind was the scene in Kathryn Stockett's novel The Help where Aibileen Clark, a black maid, is falsely charged with stealing and has to say a quick goodbye to Mae Mobley, the white child she has raised:
"Baby Girl," I say. "I need you to remember everything I told you. Do you remember what I told you?"
She still crying steady, but the hiccups is gone. "To wipe my bottom good when I'm done?"
"No, baby, the other. About what you are."
I look deep into her rich brown eyes and she look into mine. Law, she got old-soul eyes, like she done lived a thousand years. And I swear I see, down inside, the woman she gone grow up to be. A flash from the future. She is tall and straight. She is proud. She got a better haircut. And she is remembering the words I put in her head. Remembering as a full-grown woman.
And then she say it, just like I need her to. "You is kind," she says, 'you is smart. You is important."
+ + +
I want to send a belated Valentine's Day "thank you" to the people who help us to believe such things about ourselves. May we say them over and over again, until we know they're true.
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Why I wanted a coach
So, as a next post, I want to explain why I applied for Auburn's Coaching Program, and what I hope to get out of it. The short explanation: I met J.C. Austin, who coordinates the program, at a time I was feeling completely overwhelmed. The possibility of getting some help to sort things out was a godsend, and I seized it.
I wrote J.C.:
It's becoming clear to me that I need to change the way I'm working at my church. I simply can't meet all the expectations - of others or myself. Last night a friend asked me, "How are things at your church?" and "Does your Session know you're feeling overwhelmed?" and I spent the next hour in tears! I've seen therapists before, but I believe that, at this point, the real problem is how I'm working, communicating, setting goals, and accepting limitations. So . . . a coach?
And his response was just great. He said:
I think coaching could be of great help and impact to you, because our major themes are on how to develop resilience as a leader (i.e., thrive in the midst of the overwhelmed-ness of ministry) and how to set and prioritize goals and make measurable progress in your ministry based on the agenda you have as a leader, rather than just responding to whatever seems to be the most urgent problem popping up. Sounds like that's right in the sweet spot of what you're dealing with!
J.C.'s use of the phrase "sweet spot" is what sold me. That isn't a phrase I hear very often. I think it may have reminded me of an old New Yorker cartoon titled "The Sweet Spot of Flu." In it a sick man is lying on the couch. There are two arrows pointing at him which say, "Sick enough to lie on the couch all day watching TV with no guilt whatsoever." and "Not so sick that even watching TV could be treacherous, depending." That J.C. could look at the mess I was describing and claim its possibilities was just really nice.
(By the way, it wasn't really such a mess. Four and a half years into my time at GPPC, things were going well in a lot of ways. But it had been a challenging year for me and a particularly busy fall. I was tired, and I was beginning to see that familiarity with GPPC and the rhythms of the church year was not really making things easier, as I had hoped and expected. To concentrate on my skills as a leader and administrator seemed like a worthy thing to do.)
J.C. described the comprehensive coaching program. It is Lilly-supported, which makes it affordable (THANK YOU, Lilly!). It starts with two days in-residence and continues with 6 months of bi-weekly coaching sessions conducted by telephone. The program ends in June with two more days in-residence. In my next post, I'll tell you some of the we shared last week - the useful stuff I mentioned earlier.
Thanks for listening,
Carla
I wrote J.C.:
It's becoming clear to me that I need to change the way I'm working at my church. I simply can't meet all the expectations - of others or myself. Last night a friend asked me, "How are things at your church?" and "Does your Session know you're feeling overwhelmed?" and I spent the next hour in tears! I've seen therapists before, but I believe that, at this point, the real problem is how I'm working, communicating, setting goals, and accepting limitations. So . . . a coach?
And his response was just great. He said:
I think coaching could be of great help and impact to you, because our major themes are on how to develop resilience as a leader (i.e., thrive in the midst of the overwhelmed-ness of ministry) and how to set and prioritize goals and make measurable progress in your ministry based on the agenda you have as a leader, rather than just responding to whatever seems to be the most urgent problem popping up. Sounds like that's right in the sweet spot of what you're dealing with!
J.C.'s use of the phrase "sweet spot" is what sold me. That isn't a phrase I hear very often. I think it may have reminded me of an old New Yorker cartoon titled "The Sweet Spot of Flu." In it a sick man is lying on the couch. There are two arrows pointing at him which say, "Sick enough to lie on the couch all day watching TV with no guilt whatsoever." and "Not so sick that even watching TV could be treacherous, depending." That J.C. could look at the mess I was describing and claim its possibilities was just really nice.
(By the way, it wasn't really such a mess. Four and a half years into my time at GPPC, things were going well in a lot of ways. But it had been a challenging year for me and a particularly busy fall. I was tired, and I was beginning to see that familiarity with GPPC and the rhythms of the church year was not really making things easier, as I had hoped and expected. To concentrate on my skills as a leader and administrator seemed like a worthy thing to do.)
J.C. described the comprehensive coaching program. It is Lilly-supported, which makes it affordable (THANK YOU, Lilly!). It starts with two days in-residence and continues with 6 months of bi-weekly coaching sessions conducted by telephone. The program ends in June with two more days in-residence. In my next post, I'll tell you some of the we shared last week - the useful stuff I mentioned earlier.
Thanks for listening,
Carla
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