"A life lived in fear is a life half lived."

 -from the film Strictly Ballroom

 
These last weeks, life knocked again and again on the door of my heart that is touched by courageous acts.  I've witnessed, without fan fare, people quietly moving through fear with an unwavering vulnerability - truly, brave hearts.  To begin the New Year, I wanted to share a few of these stories with you, perhaps they will inspire your courage, as they have inspired mine.

Engaged sixty-somethings, who met at a "Young Widow and Widowers" support group, have a close friend (also a widow) diagnosed with a terminal disease.  Over the past year, there have been several occasions when folks gathered around the ill woman's bedside to whisper good-bye.  But she had other plans!

Upon learning a marriage date had been reserved, the friend set an intention for herself: "I am going to that wedding."  To solidify her decision, she went out and purchased a splashy sequined dress for the occasion (even before the bride had bought her own dress).  A couple of weeks before the ceremony, dear friends made the bedside pilgrimage once again, and the woman simply said, "I am going to that wedding."

So, on a gorgeous October day, she donned her party attire with walker and oxygen tank in hand (after taking a couple of pills prescribed by the Hospice nurse enabling her swollen feet to fit into her fancy shoes), and she celebrated with the newlyweds.  Perhaps this sounds more like determination than bravery, and you may be right, but the story is not yet complete.

Our heroine has lost such substantial weight from her illness; the scale reads only 69 pounds.  I learned the other day that she gathered her energies and went to lunch with "some of the gals," and upon leaving, visited a funeral home to make arrangements for her death.  This action rouses wonder in me.  How deep is the well of courage to face both life and death so blatantly?  This is NOT a life half lived.  She eeks out every last drop of living, while remaining in acceptance that death draws ever nearer.  Remarkable.

Another friend, Luciano, recently went out on a limb for a cause he believes in.  The same man I wrote about last March, who created the "Bridge of Roses" project to raise money for schools in Madagascar, decided to take on the Catholic Church.  Well, perhaps that sounds a bit dramatic, but in his way, that's what Luciano has done.

As a practicing Catholic, Luciano expresses very strong views about the ordination of women as leaders in the church.  He's not at all preachy about it, in truth; until he sent me a copy of the letter he wrote to Cardinal O'Malley, I was unaware of his passion.  Never have I witnessed Luciano forcing his opinion into a conversation.  Rather, he simply took action, as he saw fit.  Whether you agree with this point of view or not, I believe Luciano tells the story best.  In turn, you may click here to read his letter.  

What resonates most profoundly about Luciano's prose is where the message comes from within him.  I read his words and heard how he plumbed his own depths to bare naked his truth, and then called upon his courage to share this truth with those empowered to take action.  Action which could be in alignment with Luciano's request, or could manifest as anger directed at him.

What appears to be thematically linked to acts of bravery is the inherent knowledge that one faces the risk of loss...and the fear of the feelings associated with such a loss overwhelming our systems and paralyzing us.

A final example...one of my closest friends lost her 22 year-old son to an unexpected death six days after his birthday in December.  She was immediately surrounded by family and loved ones, who sought to ease her pain.  One option offered was a very mild sedative, intended to help her get through the wake and funeral.

She told me this, "I took a little something for the visitation, though I'm not sure it did anything.  But I intentionally didn't take anything the day of the funeral.  I wanted to let myself feel everything that day."  Even as I write this, my tears well up.  This devoted mom gave herself the gift of her own feelings, even when the pain shredded her.  She gave me pause to remember how I sometimes wish to squelch my own feelings, because I harbor the belief that they will be too much for me.  How lucky I am to have such an amazing model of what's possible.

Acts of bravery come in all forms, both internal and external.  I wish for you a courageous 2012.

With love and appreciation, 

Joanne Lutz

Third Option Coaching  

Founder of The Consciousness Collaborative

www.TheCCsite.com ~ www.WhatsNextWorkshop.com  

Joanne@TheCCsite.com ~ ph. 617-827-0803

My friend, Ed, just attended his mom's 90th birthday party.  In her sunset years, Lil (his mom) has made it very clear that when she dies she doesn't want one of those obituaries that says, "She played bridge and enjoyed crossword puzzles."  Ed jokes, "If we follow her guidelines we're pretty much down to: She was born, lived, and died."  That got a laugh out of me!

 

In the early 1990's I was an apprentice funeral director.  Yes, I did all of those things you're wondering about... the late night pick-ups, embalming, greeting mourners at visiting hours, and helping folks pre-plan their own funerals.  Due to the nature of my work, I witnessed thousands of survivors honoring the deceased they loved.  I learned, the best visiting hours sounded like a rockin' party to an outsider.  And while I never knew the departed, a profoundly personalized funeral or memorial service always touched me deeply.

   

In my years away from the industry, I often attended visiting hours, rather than a funeral, simply because the timing was more convenient.  A couple of years ago, a good friend's father died.  There was no visitation; by default, I went to the funeral.  As I listened to the nephew of the deceased share memories of the man he had known, I remembered the importance of our loved ones stories - it's what makes the service beautiful and personal.  Since then, I've made it a point to attend funerals rather than visiting hours.  While visiting hours provide a venue to support survivors, a funeral provides an intimate experience of the person being honored.  For me, listening to those memories is the very best part; these stories live on beyond the corporal being.

 

At the end of October, my dad died unexpectedly.  I have to tell you, I was really looking forward to listening to someone else's perspective of him...someone who knew him differently than I did.  In my life, I never lived with my father, so I didn't know him well.  And the notion of learning about him and his stories in this unique venue appealed to me.  Ironically, the priest who offered the eulogy never met my dad at all, so the intimacy I genuinely appreciate wasn't a part of his service.

It was, however, a part of my daily shower ritual from the day I learned he'd died right through to the funeral.  Unintentionally, I found myself creating a eulogy for him every day in the shower.  So, in my way, I got exactly what I wanted and needed from the process. 

All of this death activity reminded me of an exercise I tried at an African Dance class several years ago.  At the start of one session, we were given an assignment: "Write three lines about yourself, as though you were already dead and honoring your memory.  What would you say about yourself if you had to write three lines of your own eulogy?"  Remember, a typical obituary will tell you the facts...education, career, survivors...but the eulogy gives insight into how a person entered the world.  For me, this exercise touched upon the essence I would like remembered, and how I've manifested that in action.

As 2011 comes to a close, I encourage you to create pockets of reflective time amid the hustle and bustle of the holidays.  And, if you're willing to stretch a bit, take a few moments to write a eulogy for yourself...the truth of how you enter the world, what genuinely matters to you, and if you died tomorrow, what might you be remembered for?  As always, there is no right or wrong, this is simply an opportunity to remember what you value, and notice how you enact your passions in your life.  If you discover, upon completing your personal prose, that you want to redirect your life's attention to things that reflect more accurately who you truly be, there's still time.  Just like the ghost of Christmas present...you may offer this gift to yourself.

With love and memories, 

Joanne Lutz

Third Option Coaching  

Founder of The Consciousness Collaborative

www.TheCCsite.com ~ www.WhatsNextWorkshop.com  

Joanne@TheCCsite.com ~ ph. 617-827-0803

One of my favorite musical artists, Jason Mraz, recently posted the video, "Bathing in Sound."  A camera follows Mraz, as part of his "In Search of Incredible" project, to the Mojave Desert where he visits the Integratron.  For those, like me, who didn't know, the Integretron is "...an acoustically perfect tabernacle and energy machine sited on a powerful geomagnetic vortex..."  Basically, it's a place where the sounds you make reflect back to you exactly as you've made them; it is considered acoustically perfect.

 

When Mraz first enters the dome and begins to sing, you can see that his excitement falters...just a teeny bit.  Then, as he steps into the center, and nears the floor, he hears his own magnificent voice echoing back to him in absolutely perfect resonance, and he beams.  From the video, the magic of the Integretron seems to coalesce when the sound comes from the grounded center.  The metaphor stayed with me...when we are centered, grounded, and tapping into our unique gifts (in Mraz's case, his voice) what we put out into the world reverberates back to us as a mirror manifestation of our essence.  It's like mailing yourself a love letter...even if it gets "returned to sender" it's exactly right.

 

Within days of watching "Bathing in Sound," Steve Jobs died.  I know...I hear your groan from here.  The media blitz about Jobs has probably left you numb to any more praise or criticism of the man and his inventions.  Bear with me, if you will, as it ties into my theme.  I can't speak to who Jobs was as a man, beyond whatever public information is available to all of us, and other than two iPods, I don't own any Apple products.  So, I don't pretend to be an expert in all things Jobs or Apple, but I find it impossible to ignore his contributions to the world.  When he tapped into his gifts and sent that energy out into the world, Jobs changed how we work, play, and communicate with each other.  He didn't do it alone, of course, but the reverberations of his essence bounced back to him in perfect pitch with every successful product he created and every connection made easier through one of his innovations.

 

I believe we, like Steve Jobs and Jason Mraz, all experience our own version of the Integratron...every day...moment to moment.  When our thoughts, words, and actions come from our core, the reverberating sound is magnificent.  If we're a little left of our own center, the feedback gets a little pitchy.

 

If you've read some of my other columns, you may be asking:  "Is she really telling us to be defined by the feedback from outside?"  NO!  It's still me, silly, and that's never the message I'm sending.  All of us will experience, from time to time, coming from our most authentic self and find that we meet another who's a bit "off key" in the moment.  The integrity comes from our ability to stay present, even in the face of another who may range from "out of sorts" to "off the deep end."  This very presence creates an invitation for the other to come back to himself...in effect, you may provide the mirror of who the person is under the flack...an Integratron of their true self.

For some reason what comes to mind as I write this is a story that Prita Manganiello tells from her life-guarding days.  Before every swim lesson with her students, Prita would remind them that they were all swimming in the same pool.  Therefore, if someone urinated, they'd all be swimming in it.  Her supervisor said he'd never seen so many kids use the facilities during a lesson, as when she taught.

How does this tangent relate?  I believe it truly matters what we put out into the world, because we really are all swimming in the same pool.  And when we offer the best of ourselves in our thoughts, words, and actions, the reflective sound touches us all.  The harmony created by our own essence is beautiful.

Want to experience what you're putting out into the world?  Try this mirror meditation, inspired by Osho.  It's like a mini-visual Integratron, in case you don't have a trip to the Mojave Desert planned.

Reflecting the love, 

Joanne Lutz

Third Option Coaching  

Founder of The Consciousness Collaborative

www.TheCCsite.com ~ www.WhatsNextWorkshop.com  

Joanne@TheCCsite.com ~ ph. 617-827-0803

My husband reads part of a "good for you" book everyday at breakfast.  For two weeks, the book on the porch table was "The Aladdin Factor" by Jack Canfield and Mark Victor Hansen.  I stared at it for those fourteen days, before I finally picked it up.  Then, I couldn't put it down.  In addition to some fun and provocative exercises, the book is filled with anecdotal stories of what people believe about asking for help and the amazing things that happen when we move through the fear that blocks us and request what we want.  

 

This read dovetailed nicely with a recent audio presentation I listened to of "Supercoach" author, Michael Neill.  He spoke of the "internal gatekeeper" that lives within each of us.  This voice prevents us from asking for something in anticipation of what the answer might be.  So rather than meeting the real life gatekeeper who guards the castle or sits at the reception desk, we engage the protector within who keeps us from feeling badly about someone telling us "no."  In turn, we simply never take the outward action step to ask for the help, kindness, dinner date, discount, or support we would like.

 

I sometimes have trouble asking for what I want or need.  My internal gatekeeper adamantly holds me back from making the query, particularly when my vulnerability feels at stake.  Other times, I ask but not with my true voice.  Unfailingly, my attempts to morph my language into what I believe someone else may want to hear, rather than what is completely true to me, falls flat.  My experience with Michael Neill's Creating the Impossible program in July was an excellent reminder for me - a reminder of the gatekeeper...the chameleon...and the power of my own true, vulnerable voice.

 

As part of my personal "Impossible" goal, I invited Michael Neill to join The Consciousness Collaborative.  His talent, charisma, and wisdom would be greatly welcomed by the existing members and I believe you, as part of our community, would have tremendous appreciation for what he offers.  In return, Michael would have the opportunity to grow his audience by 10%, simply by saying "yes." 

 

It took me a couple of weeks to get past my internal gatekeeper, even to pose the question.  Once I did, my first attempt at asking him was dreadful!  It almost could have been one of those canned letters you pay for on the internet.  Truly, chameleon mode does not work for me!  

 

Then I had the benefit of working with a dynamic coach from Belgium, studying as Michael's apprentice this year.  Cecile Chabot listened to my enthusiasm, compared it to my invitation, and asked me over and over, "why didn't you say THAT in the letter?"  Encouraged by Cecile's clarity, I sent Michael a private email in my own true voice.  The moment I hit the send key, I felt completely in me.  It was the difference between walking around wearing a sticky Halloween mask and the feeling of a freshly washed face.

The result of my letter to him (you may read it here), was an offer from Michael Neill to host a one hour free teleclass for our community!  This incredible opportunity, while not what I had requested, manifested from the combination of my willingness to take a risk, and Michael's generosity.  If the internal gatekeeper and the chameleon ruled the day, I would not be able to share this exciting news with you.  (Learn about teleclass details and registration.)

Because this process held such power for me, I'd like to share with you a key ingredient I learned to successfully asking for whatever I may want.  I allow myself ask and then let go of any attachment to the result.  By releasing any held expectations, I am free to ask for anything.  Since practicing this mysterious recipe is still new, it feels both daring and fun.  I encourage you to give it a try.  If it helps, imagine you've just rubbed Aladdin's lamp and the genie has appeared before you...now, you do the magic part...and ask!
In my true voice,

Joanne Lutz

Third Option Coaching  

Founder of The Consciousness Collaborative

www.TheCCsite.com ~ www.WhatsNextWorkshop.com  

Joanne@TheCCsite.com ~ ph. 617-827-0803

Recently, a client shared a story with me of the mighty prince and the young peasant boy.  You may have heard it before...if not, you may wish to read it. 

 

The story reminded me that I've often thought about creating a workshop titled, "The Power of Vulnerability."  I wonder who would be brave enough to sign up...including me, if I weren't facilitating it?

We hold such myths about power: "knowledge is power," a man on Wall Street wears a "power suit," our world is powered by electricity, which can be lethal; and yet, what touches you most deeply?  What memories do you hold most dear?  

For the month of July, I participated in Michael Neill's "Creating the Impossible" program.  One support aspect of the program was a forum for participants to post their goals, challenges, and successes.  Of all the folks on the forum, I was consistently attracted to this one woman, who is a coach in the Midwest.  Each time she shared with the group, you could feel her presence, openness, and trust.  There was no shield of protection (power suit), she didn't always have the answers (knowledge is power), and while I perceive her as a dynamo, she shared herself with gentle directness.  For me, she illustrated the power of vulnerability beautifully.  I felt supported by her and she elicited in me a desire to extend support to her.

I believe we often get caught in power struggle rather than standing in the power of our own vulnerability.  The power of vulnerability knows: no matter what happens, we are not defined by anything or anyone outside of us, we simply are.  And each time we stand in that space of being, knowing that we are worthy of love and connection, we share ourselves openly and invite others to do the same.  The power of that invitation...the power of that beingness is a power born of love. 

As corny as it sounds, when we truly love ourselves, we don't feel the desire to have power over another person or a situation.  When we truly love ourselves (and this is a moment to moment proposition), we don't beat ourselves up for what we're not or what we think we are (which is usually a learned label that has nothing to do with you).  So, for today, I invite you to take a few moments and be in love with you.  Appreciate all of who you are so that it fills you from the tips of your toes to the roots of your hair.  And bring that feeling with you, out into the world, and see what happens when you stand in your power.  That's what the boy in the story did and he could not be conquered.

Just before publishing, I found this fabulous TED video of Brene Brown talking about the "Power of Vulnerability."  It's absolutely worth the 20 minutes to watch it.

With the power of love,

Joanne Lutz

Third Option Coaching  

Founder of The Consciousness Collaborative

www.TheCCsite.com ~ www.WhatsNextWorkshop.com  

Joanne@TheCCsite.com ~ ph. 617-827-0803

Learning to drive, the most valuable lessons occurred from behind the wheel when my passenger-teacher provided relevant instruction I could use immediately.  One night I was driving from Newark to Wildwood, NJ with a guy who worked for my Dad.  Making our way south on the Garden State Parkway he said, "We're going a little too fast."  I looked at the speedometer and found myself within the range of normal, so I asked, "How do you know?"  "Because the car ahead of you is a little too close."  He said that almost 30 years ago, and while I can't remember the young man's name, I remember the lesson to this day.  In that moment, he provided a building block for years of driving to come.

Several years later, after I'd moved to Boston, I got into a nasty car accident.  My little Subaru (and they were truly tiny in those days) got walloped from behind on Rt 95S by an old-style Impala (a version that could comfortably hold a formal state dinner).  My car went out of control, hit a Jersey barrier and flipped on it's side.  Held in by our seat belts, my roommate and I suffered minimal injuries; but the car was totaled, evidenced by the tail light kissing the back of the front passenger seat and the wheels in the air.  I later learned that the driver who hit us had been drinking.  Although this was not his first offense, there was no arrest made, no charges filed, just a bunch of insurance hassles for me to deal with.  It was one of those times, when it would have been helpful to have someone next to me offering the accident version of "Because the car ahead of you is a little too close."

At 19, I didn't know to press charges or negotiate a settlement.  It never occurred to me to ask for more than what was offered,  and the only car I'd ever purchased was now a pile of junk metal holding my Lionel Ritchie and Journey tapes (yes they were tapes, but not 8-tracks!).

Fast forward 20+ years... I have a friend who regularly encourages me to offer a class on negotiation; because now it wouldn't occur to me to accept any kind of service that was less than fair.  Whether Panera forgets the chicken on my take-out salad or a vendor doesn't deliver what they promised, I fervently encourage them to make good and often benefit from excellent customer service as a result.  I believe my "fair is fair" conviction genuinely elicits a desire for someone to do their best.  Win-win.

As I've been working my way back up part of my personal spiral staircase, I've been tending to different versions of my younger self, providing a kind of safety and security for parts of me that didn't experience safety in their own time.  Recently, I realized, I needed the me I am now when I was 19, someone to help me navigate that challenging situation with a clear, experienced voice.

In honoring both parts of me: the one who figured it out as best she could (at 19) and the adult me (who helped to negotiate hundreds of real estate transactions and gets a free lunch when they forget my chicken), I appreciate all of who I am and where I've come from.  I am extraordinarily grateful for the guidance others have provided along the way, helping to shape my growth and offering a foundation upon which I build every day.

Integrating these parts of self heals the road rash of youth.  If my story resonates with you, and there was a time you didn't have someone as competent as you are now to guide you through, allow a little space for how hard that was.  With breath and compassion, let that younger part of you know that an adult is present now - YOU.  This doesn't mean adults have all the answers!  It just means that, as adults, we have the resources to reach out for guidance when "we're going a little too fast."

With love for you and all your parts,

Joanne Lutz

Third Option Coaching 

Founder of The Consciousness Collaborative

www.TheCCsite.com ~ www.WhatsNextWorkshop.com 

Joanne@TheCCsite.com ~ ph. 617-827-0803

I have to fess up.  I started writing this column three different times over the past year.  Even as I type these words, I'm giggling; you'll understand why as you read.

This month, my step-daughter, Julia, will graduate from high school.  Last May, Joe, my step-son, graduated from college.  With these accomplishments, they have inked in big check marks for life's list of "To Do's" and marked a new stage of their lives.  Not all "To Do's" are as monumental as graduation.  But whether you finish folding the laundry, put the final touches on a big project, or bring closure to an unresolved issue in a relationship, a sense of energized fullness follows each completion.

Many support and education programs have the tidying up of unfinished business as one of their foundation blocks.  Landmark participants are encouraged to seek out resolutions in relationships when something has been left unsettled, because open wounds fester, and infect other aspects of our lives.  Alcoholics Anonymous includes "making amends" as one of its twelve steps - to take responsibility for one's own actions and bring closure to past hurts.  The final day of What's Next?! Workshop includes a ritual designed to bring conscious transformation to burdens we have carried, as we step toward our personal growth and true purpose.

If you can relate to the concept of leaving things undone, I offer you a challenge.  Take a few minutes and get in touch with just one thing that feels incomplete.

Now, spend the next moment noticing the sensations in your body that accompany the unfinished business.  For me it's akin to a soggy blanket hanging over me, drip, drip, dripping as a discomforting reminder.  Carrying the weight of this blanket drains my energy and, depending upon how important the matter, can render me paralyzed to accomplish even the simplest tasks.

Next, ask yourself: Do I want to continue carrying this burden of unfinished business?  Here's a hint: the default answer is "yes."  If you try to ignore, stuff, or dismiss this burden, you already know exactly what to expect - you've been living it, and may continue to for as long as you like.  That's okay, just know what you're choosing.

If the answer is "no," are you willing to tap into your courageous self and commit to some manner of completion.  This does not mean that the matter is done "perfectly"...whatever that might mean to you...rather, it's a means of taking action to bring about a sense of closure.  Here are a couple of simple examples. 

Unresolved relationships:

Write a letter conveying all of your feelings, everything that has been left unsaid; then, burn the letter and transform the energy.  Letting yourself have a voice is for YOU and affords completion. 

 

Bring closure to a disagreement by speaking your microscopic truth using "I" statements - take ownership for your part of the discord - without blame, simply owning your part.

Long term commitments:

How important is this mission right now?  If it is truly a top priority, give yourself 15 minutes every morning to work on it.  This may mean 15 minutes of pulling weeds, meditating, or several paragraphs of your novel.  Whatever the task, you will feel energized by the steps you are taking toward completion.  (If this task appears near the bottom of your list, allow yourself to put it on a shelf and stop carrying the energy-draining burden around with you.)

 

Notice the milestones as you run the marathon.  Each step is a completion.  If you only see the big picture, you may feel overwhelmed.  Julia didn't get through school by thinking, "just 12 more years" when she was in kindergarten.  She did it test by test, class by class, semester by semester.  Break your goal into smaller parts and appreciate your every accomplishment to fuel your next step.

If you're like me, you might start an article about unfinished business last May and put it in a file.  Feel inspired again a few months later...begin...and move on.  Finally, when the marinade is fully infused, you'd write this column and giggle over the irony.

Energized by this completion,

Joanne Lutz
Third Option Coaching
Founder of The Consciousness Collaborative

www.TheCCsite.com ~ www.WhatsNextWorkshop.com 

Joanne@TheCCsite.com ~ ph. 617-827-0803

According to Stephen Pressfield, author of The War of Art, "Resistance is the most toxic force on the planet."  He defines resistance as self-sabotage and "genius' shadow."  Pressfield claims, "To yield to resistance deforms our spirit.  It stunts us and makes us less than we are and were born to be."

You know the old adage, keep your friends close and your enemies closer, well, Pressfield might argue that resistance is the enemy, and he'd tell you to get it as far away from you as possible.  More than that, he'd warn you to watch for "a parallel peril that must also be guarded against: sabotage by others."

I have a friend who gave up desserts a few years ago.  She was feeling great.  Between her personal fitness plan and her altered diet, she felt empowered in her body.  Ironically, though, whether attending one of her husband's business dinners or having lunch with close friends, she found that everyone strongly encouraged her to have "just a taste" of the cheesecake, crème brulee, lava cake, etc.  Pressfield refers to this as "resistance recruiting allies." 

It can be hard, particularly on the people we are closest to, when we begin to shine.  Instead of feeling the warmth of our glow, they may perceive it as a glaring spotlight on their personal deficiencies.  The dessert-pushers are a silly example, but even they may not have wanted to face their personal lack of will-power, and if they could corrupt my friend with "just a taste," resistance would win.

As you create and grow that which feeds your soul, that which is inside of you wanting to burst out, you will not only face your own resistance, but that of those around you.  Yikes!  How do you move forward, if the people who care most about you aren't supporting your efforts?  If your spouse, parent, or best friend feels threatened by your success, does this mean you should fail simply to keep everyone comfortable?

I've learned to ask myself these questions:  Do I deserve to succeed?  Do I have the right to share and manifest all that I have within me?  Essentially, do I have the right to exist?  Because, at the end of the day, being all of who I am meant to be is about my existence, just as it is about yours.

As a transition coach, I see this struggle often!  Living from the essential self and allowing your gifts within to support the emergence of the most outstanding version of you, changes the playing field.  And sometimes it feels like the only two options are to slide back to the old pattern, allowing "genius' shadow" to win.  Or shut out everyone who ever cared about you, so that you can have what you really want.  Ouch!  Both of those extremes sound painful.

Enter a third option: provide an example of what's possible, by living it.  Pressfield suggests, "The best and only thing that one artist can do for another is serve as an example and an inspiration."  And in her famous quote, Marianne Williamson says, "...as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.  As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others." 

So be the beacon!  Know that those who are dearest may occasionally behave like the enemy.  Remember, what they most want and need to know is that they, too, can live to their full potential.  It is their right, as much as it is yours.  And every time you beat "resistance" you evidence the possibilities.  In that moment, you choose your right to exist, and you extend a hand to those around you, inviting them to join you in doing the same.

I suggest keeping your beloved enemies (who have been recruited by resistance) closer, because the warmth of your glow will shine most brightly on them.  And maybe, as you lead by example, it will help to thaw their resistance, too!

Glowing on friends and enemies alike,

Joanne Lutz
Third Option Coaching
Founder of The Consciousness Collaborative

www.TheCCsite.com ~ www.WhatsNextWorkshop.com 

Joanne@TheCCsite.com ~ ph. 617-827-0803

When I was in my 20's I had a friend who would call periodically for me to "talk her down off the ledge."  This was code language for "please listen to how I feel and help me to make sense of what's happening in my life."  When I felt on the edge, I called her with the same plea.  Every once in a while, though, I could sense in her voice a mirror of my own feelings...it's hard work to be responsible to bring someone back to safety.

Ever received one of these calls?  A friend who's struggling with her husband; your brother who feels oppressed by his boss; or your child afraid that not going to the best college is going to be the end of the world...and when the call comes...what do you do?

If you're feeling as I did, your mission appears clear.  Get him or her in out of the cold and into the safety nest only you can provide.  So, off we go, how to accomplish this:

Option 1)  Fix it!  Find a way to solve the problem or explain how easily he/she can solve the problem by just...hmm...let's pause for a moment here.  How do you feel when someone tries to tell you how easy it is to "fix" your problem "if you would just..."  I don't know about you, but my teeth start grinding and I tune them right out.

Okay, let's move on to
Option 2)  Pat on the head.  "Oh, it will be okay, don't worry.  It will all work out.  You're getting all worked up for nothing."  Actually, for me this one is worse than fix it.  For me, it feels completely condescending when someone tells me not to feel what I feel.  Clearly, no one is listening in this scenario.

Option 3)  Help dig the hole that the jumper will land in.  This is a case of "yes-ing" someone to death.  Agreeing with all of the injustices, how the world is against them, and "the man" has really got control.  You can almost imagine yourself watching Dexter and every so often picking the phone up to say, "yeah, I hear ya."  Uggh!

In my 30's I experienced a paradigm shift relating to these calls.  While the plea might be "talk me down from the ledge," the true request is: "hang out on the ledge with me and be present."  This rights the universe on its axis; because, being present means there's nothing to do.  I can sit on the metaphorical ledge with hot chocolate and a blanket, and know that my grounded presence creates an invitation for my friend to find his own ground.  By listening, being genuine, noticing the patterns of what I hear, and tapping into my authentic curiosity, there is no action to take, nothing to fix, no one to rescue.

I encourage you to give ledge-living a try, rather than attempting to talk someone down off of it.  This respectful exchange builds intimacy - even when it feels hard or scary.  The connection to yourself and other becomes clean and clear, as each person remains responsible for her own feelings...his own journey. 

Looking forward to warm nights on the ledge,

Joanne Lutz
Third Option Coaching
Founder of The Consciousness Collaborative

www.TheCCsite.com ~ www.WhatsNextWorkshop.com 

Joanne@TheCCsite.com ~ ph. 617-827-0803