Remember Who You Were Going To Be

This afternoon I saw a bumper sticker that admonished, "Remember who you were going to be."  I literally stopped in my tracks and stared at it.  "Hmmm!" I thought.  "Remember who you were going to be."  I thought again, "I haven't a clue who I was going to be."  I mean really what I wanted to be.

This evening I watched a movie in which a man knew that he'd always wanted to be the world's best barista, and the female love interest, who is an excellent human resources manager, always wanted to be an illustrator.  As I watched this scene of the movie, it reminded me of the bumper sticker.  I muted the TV during the commercial and thought about it again, but I wasn't any closer to an answer than I'd been a few hours earlier.

I am not sure if it was when I grew up or where I grew up, but options were never there.  I started to write, options were never available, but, of course, that isn't true. There were lots of options; I just didn't know about them.  Then I started to write, options were never presented to me.  That isn't true either.  Well, it is.  Options weren't presented to me, but a lot of things were not presented to me.  I found them anyway. That's just an excuse. 

Pretty much girls in my high school in Indiana had three options: become a homemaker or go to college and become either a teacher or a nurse.  Since I had an aversion to blood, being a nurse was never a serious consideration.  I was pretty smart, and I loved to learn.  Not going to college was never a consideration.  That sort of left being a teacher. 

When I was about 16, I attended a church camp "life recruit week."  The intention was to get kids to become ministers, missionaries, and the like.  I was inspired.  That is what I would do.  But, of course, as a girl, I could only become a minister of education--that's a fancy name for a teacher and/or being in charge of teachers.  But, I really did feel called to do God's work, just not the way the people at the camp had in mind.

The truth is I have a number of gifts and talents, and I've enjoyed a lot of things I've done.  Yet, I've never really had a drive to be any one thing.  It ends up that teaching is something I'm fairly good at, and it has ended up being part of almost every job I've ever had.  I particularly enjoy mentoring people.  I think it is the one-on-one customized teaching of mentoring and coaching that I like best.

I've also been writing since I could hold a pencil, and it ends up that writing has ended up being part of every job I've even had.  I can remember having the realization when I was almost done with the first draft of Leading from the Heart that my commitment to serving God 20 years earlier was finally coming to fruition.  My ministry was the business world, I thought, and my medium was the written word.  As the books become popular, I started doing more keynote speaking.  It was kind of teaching, just to a bigger classroom.

A few years later when I created the intentional living intensives, I was sure I was exactly where I should be.  They allowed me to be out in nature with clients and to move around.  At the same time, I was able to engage my love for healthy but delicious food as I cooked for my clients.  Best of all, I was able to see each of them find the truth of who they were.  I remember thinking several times that it just couldn't get any better.

My writing, speaking, and coaching business was really joyful and fulfilling, but not because I had dreamed that life, I just sort of slid into it.  Compared to those who have an inner drive to be something, it almost seems like cheating, but I was so happy.  Should it matter how I got there?

As it ends up, the economy went bust, and my business went bust with it.  It didn't matter any more.  Since then, I've been teaching, writing, speaking, and coaching in a number of different settings, but somehow I've never reached that deep spiritual "flow state" in which I used to live most of my life.

This week I was at a continuing education training for coaches.  The teachers were sharing lists of questions, and after a few minutes, I spoke up.  I said, "I'd like to advocate for intuition.  I've been coaching for over 25 years, I said, and I've always been able to be still, listen to my heart, and just hear the perfect question....Even when the question makes no sense to me, it always makes perfect sense to my client." That is how I wrote too...and spoke.  That is the world I used to live in. 

This evening after pondering "Remember who you were going to be" for several hours, I have come to remember what I used to know.  Being who you were going to be doesn't have anything to do with choosing from a menu of careers and intellectually choosing what I will be.  Being who I was going to be has everything to do with what I said to those coaches, "being still, listening to my heart," and doing what I hear. 

So it was that I got to my flow state life.  It isn't cheating.  I think that is how we were designed.  Listen to our hearts, and they will always guide us.

All those things that I've struggled with over the almost-year I've been writing this blog? There should never be a struggle.  There should only be listening to what my heart knows.  That is what this blog is about.  I am most grateful for today's bumper sticker for reminding me how to remember.  The heart always knows.

Pieces of the Whole

I always look forward to my holiday greeting from colleague Suzan Thompson.  I always enjoy seeing what new directions her work as a therapist has taken in the last year.  However, because she is a fabulous and generous artist, her greetings often contain a small piece of art.  I had a favorite on my refrigerator door for several years.

Yesterday was the big day, and I admit to ripping the envelope open in the elevator the minute I saw the return address.  (I suppose it might have been more appropriate to wait until I could fully appreciate the opening experience, but delayed gratification has never been one of my strong suits.) 

This year's gift was different than the individual pieces in the past.  This year she created an incredible collage, called "Pieces For You."  Then, she cut it up and sent pieces to her friends, along with a link to her blog where we could see the whole artwork*.  I've inserted it below.

 

 

I loved the piece, but I have to confess to studying to see which piece of the whole I had received.  (My piece came from the bottom right, and it included the heron and a key.) We emailed back and forth, and I said I loved being able to find where my piece was in the whole, and I added, "...if we only knew exactly where our piece was in the Whole."  The truth of that statement stuck with me. 

 

If we could only know exactly where our piece was in the Whole, what difference would it make?  When I think of Suzan's lovely collage as a metaphor for our roles in the world, I can imagine that when one of us decides not to follow our intuition or chooses to take a job that was more money than the one for which we had passion, that there might be blank rectangles where our piece should have been.  If many of us don't do our part pretty soon the beauty of the whole canvas is obscured. 

 

This Aha! moment hit me particularly hard on a weekend in which I have gotten back to serious writing for the first time in a while.  I'd hate to think that in the greater scheme of things that my busyness with other things has removed an essential component(s) from the Whole.  Yet, I know that is true.  The Universe isn't designed with extra or disposable parts.  Each of us is essential, and we all make a difference. 

 

In the future I plan to use Suzan's collage with my piece missing as a mental image of what happens when I choose not to show up for Life.  I can't imagine her artwork with a missing piece, just as I'm sure the Universe can't imagine Life without my piece.

 

 

*For more details about the collage and appropriate viewing music, you may visit Suzan's blog at http://magicwonderandmiracles.blogspot.com/.