When You Don't Know Where to Start

Paralyzed By A Decision

It was early in the afternoon when I arrived at my sister’s apartment to help her move from Sacramento to a place in San Francisco. Our mother was holding my 18 month old son; we had flown in from Montana less than an hour before and headed straight out to help my sister.

We walked in to find her sitting on the floor near the kitchen, knees pulled up to her chest, head down, crying. I crouched in front of her, worried: “What’s wrong? Are you ok?” She looked up, so sad, big brown eyes filled with anxiety: “I…(sob)… don’t (sob)… know (sob)… where to… start… (sob).” I sat down in front of her, so relieved it wasn’t something worse. Then I stood up and offered her my hands to pull her from the floor.

I picked up the nearest box and put it into her hands. “Here. Take this. Go into the bathroom, pull everything out from under the sink, and put it all into this box.” She looked at me, a little puzzled, then turned around and did what I said. That was it. She was fine after that. She was more than fine after that. She was efficient and capable and we had the entire apartment packed in just a few hours.

There are those times when the next step is completely overwhelming. I’ve been there; paralyzed with a decision to make. What’s next? The only thing to do is take a small step forward – or perhaps take a side-step, depending on the obstacle in front of you. The important thing is to move, to shift, to make something happen, even if it’s a tiny movement.

My cousin called just before she graduated from college to ask for advice. Partway through her question she started to cry, paralyzed by the decision she had to make. Just as with my sister, I put one small action in front of her.

It’s easy to get caught up in a moment and briefly forget all that you know. For my sister, she needed a little push to remind her that she needed to take this one step at a time. For my cousin, she needed the reminder that whatever decision she made at that moment could be un-made if she needed to change things. When I’m faced with a major decision, I remind myself that everything can change in an instant and that a decision I make right now is unlikely to derail a future part of my life. If I need to quantify a decision, I will use this handy tool.

Of course there are exceptions
– people make impulsive decisions that can have huge, long-term impacts –
sex, driving while on drugs or alcohol, sky diving.

When faced with a major decision I find it comforting to look back at other decisions I saw as life-changing at the time I was making them. Looking back helps put current concerns into perspective. There are methods to quantify a qualitative decision by scoring your priorities, but in the end, it's still your decision to make.

The next time you’re faced with a decision and you feel paralyzed in the moment, remember that whatever decision you make is the right one for that moment. Just take it one step at a time.

We should all start to live before we get too old. Fear is stupid. So are regrets.” ― Marilyn Monroe

What decisions have you made that you decided to un-make? How did that work out for you?

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We All Need a Foundation to Step Out of Our Comfort Zone

I can't let go of it, even though I know I should.

"What do you mean, you know you should?"

It's a mattress! It's not practical to keep a mattress when I've managed to give away and throw away the majority of my "stuff" so we can travel, untethered.

It's not about the mattress, though. It's about the values you've attached to it, right?

She was talking about the mattress she bought after leaving her abusive husband, sleeping in her car for 6 months, and had finally moved into an apartment by herself. That mattress represented the first real thing she owned, free and clear, since leaving him -- and all of her things -- behind. Now she's in the midst of disrupting her life, again, is remarried to a wonderful, adventurous guy, and is downsizing to live as minimally as possible so they can travel all over the world.

Don't get rid of it. You have a storage area that can hold it for you for a while. Keep it until you don't feel like you need it any more. We all need something to help us feel grounded when we're about to take a leap out of our comfort zone.

Healthy toddlers are known to wander away from their parents, though usually they will turn to see them, to make sure they can still see them, before they get too far. If you read anything by my friend Sara Jacobovici, you'll read that in infant and child development, we need a close bond with someone (or something) in order to become independent. It's a paradox for sure, but not too surprising. Read child development articles and they will describe how thumb-suckers are statistically more likely to be more confident teenagers because they've had the ability to self-sooth. I believe in thumb-sucking - no one can take away the thing that can bring you comfort!

I had a good, solid, healthy childhood for the most part. My parents were loving and we always had a roof over our heads and plenty of food to eat. We have a warm, huggy, sometimes overwhelmingly loving extended family of aunts, uncles, cousins, and friends who became family wherever we lived. And we moved a lot in my youth. I went to four different elementary schools. No wonder I sucked my thumb well into 1st grade. No matter where we lived, or the adventures and trouble I got into in my late teens and early 20's, I always had my family as my foundation.

I got a cat when I was 20 because I felt the impulsive need to spite a landlord. Needless to say, I wasn't thinking long term. He wasn't the sweetest cat, though he was devoted to me. Clawed was huge and created a lot of complications for me. Having a cat limited the apartments I could rent, limited my travel plans & spontaneity, and there were times that he had food and I went without.

When my parents were divorcing and they sold the only house we lived in for more than 4 years, Clawed was my foundation. Wherever I adventured, like moving from Fort Collins, Colorado to Washington DC by myself, he was with me. He was the one consistent thing in my life for more than 9 years, and I was devastated when he died, even though I had a wonderful husband and new baby at that time.

My little gold Super Beetle, handed down to me from my brother, was another foundation piece that broke my heart when I had to get rid of it. Now I have a weird attachment to our 1991 Suburban. There's no way for someone else to truly understand why we have attachments to certain things. Sometimes we don't really know ourselves.

I wrote an article about shoes being my wardrobe foundation; this is the same idea. When I am about to embark on a new adventure, whether that's applying for, or starting a new job, preparing for a speaking engagement, planning a trip, or any other activity that will push me out of my comfort zone, I have certain things I can count on to bring me back to center. Whether its cues like shoes or an outfit that make me feel really good, or a quiet moment with my supportive husband and kids, a glass of wine with a friend, or a good snuggle with my dog, having a foundation (like a mattress, or my thumb) reminds me that whatever I'm about to do, I have a place to go (or people to comfort me) afterward to find my balance again.

What are your foundations? Are you intentional about finding that center before you jump into something out of your comfort zone? Do you recognize which arbitrary objects you're most attached to, and may have foundational values associated with them?

Taking Yourself Too Seriously? Choose a Cue to Keep it Real.

It was my first day of my first real job out of college. My paid internship in Washington DC had ended and I spent the summer playing with my sister and roommate, waiting tables and hosting at a couple of restaurants.

When my sister moved back home to Colorado, my roommate convinced me to join a temp agency. Shortly after my first placement, the company offered me a job. My appointment with Lori in the HR department was scheduled at 8am on a Monday morning.

It was December, and it was still dark when I woke up, eager to go to my meeting, fill out paperwork, and start my job with the Meetings Department at the American Chemical Society. I dressed in the dark and popped my head into my roommate's bathroom to say goodbye, she said "good luck, Sarah!"

It was still dim outside as I made my way from the apartment to Union Station to catch the train. I sat for the few stops to the Farragut North station and held my little briefcase, a graduation gift from my dad, on the tops of my feet. In my eagerness and anxiety, the long escalator ride to the surface seemed even longer than usual. As I stepped off the escalator, out from under the awning and onto the sidewalk, I glanced down at my feet.

Oh dear.

I looked back up and took a few more steps. I thought, "Oh no, I wouldn't have done that."

Looking back down at my feet confirmed my initial observation: I was wearing two different colored shoes. One was black, the other was navy. They were identical pumps -- except for the color, which, now in full sunlight, was obvious.

Walking into the first office building on my left, I marched with confidence toward the tall counter as the man at the desk behind the counter looked up.

May I please use your phone?

No ma'am. This is not a public phone.

Please? It's kind of an emergency. I'm going to be late for my first day of a new job and I need to call and let them know! Please? (Insert brightest, sweetest, Colorado-hick-in-the-big-city smile I can muster.)

Oh, ok, I guess.

Good morning, Lori. I'm on my way over now, only a few blocks away, but I have to run home so I'm going to be late. Why? Well... I just noticed... I'm wearing two different colored shoes. ... No, I know I can't come to work like that. ... Yes, just about 30 minutes. ... Yes, I'll be there. Thank you.

I hung up the phone and the man at the counter stood to pull the phone back down to the desk so he could peer down at my feet and grin.

Smiling back and thanking him, I ran back to the Metro station. I found myself grinning, feeling very silly, and trying to cover my shoes with my briefcase when I sat down on the train. I managed to get home, change a shoe, drive back to the office, pay an outrageous price to park the car near the building, and get to the HR office in 30 minutes.

When I told my roommate the story over dinner, we couldn't stop laughing. Our stomachs were sore from the deep belly laughs that night. She reminded me of a few other little details I managed to mess up over the previous few months and came up with a term for those, "Sarah-isms."

Those small details add up in similar ways to what I described in an earlier post about finding multiple Band-Aids on my hands. The difference here is that these little details are silly, not dangerous. Stories like these are great reminders that we are human, we are fallible, and that while it's important to take our jobs and responsibilities seriously, we should never -- ever -- take ourselves too seriously. After all, we are all human, no matter how high the pedestal on which we may stand or be placed.

Just a few years after the two-different-shoes incident, I was in Vancouver, Canada, for work. My colleagues and I took an afternoon to rent a car and drive up to Whistler to explore. It's a beautiful ski resort not far from the city; it reminded me a lot of Vail, Colorado. We were there in the spring and the hills were covered in beautiful green grass and wild flowers. A small boutique store back then, Joe Boxer happened to be open that day. Joe Boxer was the brand that got big and famous, thanks to Forrest Gump and his yellow smiley face. At the time, it was a higher-end brand (now you can find it at KMart) and all the rage. I picked out a watch with a brown leather band and smiley faces in place of the numbers on the face. For my husband, I picked a fancy silver one with the smiley face imprinted in the face of the watch. You could only tell when you looked closely at it.

Wearing that watch as a DC professional, as a consultant implementing a major software program in agencies like the Federal Reserve, World Bank, and NSA, kept me grounded. When I found I was taking myself too seriously, all I had to do was look down at my watch. A smile would begin from my wrist and work its way up to my face, guaranteed. DC has far too many people who take themselves far too seriously. They didn't need one more.

Do you have cues to help remind you not to take yourself too seriously? Share them in comments here!

Post script: Almost every day after that, when I took the Metro and passed the office building, the man at the counter waited by the door to smile, wave, and say hello to me. It's nice to know my little mishap positively changed the flow of the day for someone else for a while. When we take ourselves too seriously, we miss opportunities to connect with others, opportunities to improve our communities simply by connecting in a positive way with the people around us.

It's the Shoes. Trust Me.

I was in high school when I stopped wearing shoes. There was probably a reason, as far as reason goes when you're in high school, but I can't imagine any reason beyond pushing my mother's buttons.

My feet were tough and thick with calluses from the moment the snow melted in Colorado until the first frost hit. I would carry my shoes, just in case I needed them to be allowed into a store or restaurant. From my sophomore year of high school until I graduated from Colorado State University in Fort Collins, I was known for my bare feet. As an exchange student my sophomore year, I even hitchhiked by myself through New Zealand with bare feet. I'm pretty sure I was the only business major with bare feet and cut-off jeans. When I was walking through Moby Gym with my father, getting ready to graduate, we ran into a few of my professors and I was happy to introduce them to my dad.

Oh my! We were just placing bets on whether Sarah would wear shoes to cross the graduation stage.

When I think back on that interchange, I like to remember my dad smiling good naturedly, and not totally embarrassed, but I really don't recall his reaction. I smiled and lifted my graduation robe enough to show some pretty pumps. It was December, I was definitely wearing shoes.

I moved to Washington DC for a paid internship immediately following graduation. My father drove with me across the country in my little Chevette with my cat on the floor under the passenger seat. Of course I wore shoes every day to my job with the US International Trade Commission; as soon as the weather warmed a bit, you could find me wandering on weekends through the District, shoes in hand. I think back on that time and I'm totally disgusted. Really, Sarah? Barefoot in Washington DC? It didn't take long for me to change my ways. Not only is it gross to walk barefoot on the streets and sidewalks in a big city, it gets very, very hot.

Shoes were simply a function of getting dressed back then. I had my basic pumps in black and navy for work, and my casual sandals and tennis shoes for weekends, and that was about it. I absentmindedly put on two different colored shoes on my first day of work at a new job... but that story is all it's own.

Shoes didn't become anything important -- or even more than a passing thought - until I took my first job in sales.

As the director of sales at a downtown boutique hotel, I had the opportunity to dress up and be a little creative in my style. In my time working with clients and staff at the hotel, I noticed a distinct difference in how I was being perceived and treated when I wore shoes with a heel height of two inches or more. Observation has always been a strength of mine, and I took notes about the phenomena for a few weeks; it wasn't a serious scientific study, but the conclusions were obvious to me.

Shoes come with attitude for some of us. When I was struggling with a difficult boss, my dear friend sent me a package with this note in it:

Wear these bright yellow sandals and bring your own sunshine to work this week! - Let the haters hate!

They were three inch platform strappy yellow sandals and yes, I did wear them to work. My attitude was decidedly improved that day. Sometimes a little cue to catch my eye can work wonders on my internal dialogue. It's like a little spark of distraction; a reminder of who I am, and that while I cannot control someone else's behavior, I won't let it define me and my behavior.

Someone recently shared an article describing financial advantages of being tall; there are other studies to show that tall women are generally more successful in business. (I like to point out that I am one of the most comfortable people on any airplane, a distinct advantage when traveling.)

Though my titles haven't included the word "sales" since then, I've continued my observations about the differences when I'm a little bit taller, in how I believe I am perceived based on the treatment I receive by others.

I've come to some conclusions that have helped me over the past few years and I'm hopeful that those observations and strategies will help others. Here's one that I've shared a lot recently and have heard some great reviews following experiences by those who've tried it:

When you are planning your wardrobe for an event, meeting, or other important date, start with your shoes. Your shoes are the foundation of your wardrobe. Find shoes that make you feel good about the way you walk, the way you stand, the way you carry yourself. Invest in shoes that are comfortable AND that offer an indication of your style. Build your outfit around your shoes.

Try this strategy soon, and please comment and let me know your thoughts after you do your own experiment!

I know it sounds like a small detail, and it IS a small detail in the scheme of things. Like many other small details, like the grip of your handshake, the wrinkles around your eyes when you smile, and holding a door open for someone behind you, this one matters.

Sharing stories is a great way to communicate. Listen to my recent podcast to learn more about me and the work I do to help people communicate through storytelling.

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Comments on this post:

Leigh Gathright:

Thank you for the belly laugh as I visualized you traipsing around Colorado sans shoes. Probably made you a more grounded person, though! Putting one's best foot forward is always a confidence booster. As women, we have many ways to add flair and customize our own sense of style and personality to others. For me, it is probably my passion to wear an heirloom or uncommon-type necklace to put my best self out in the world each and every day.

Johanna Flores

Sarah- Fantastic article thank you for sharing. I agree 100'% it's the shoes, I can not leave my house without a fierce pair of stilettos that make me feel like I could take over the world and people always remember me by the shoes

3 Components of Success: Storytelling, Creativity, Curiosity

I've been advising and coaching a variety of people for years, from tweens to seniors, from every economic and educational background. There are three things that stand out in my mind as being major aspects of personal and professional development: Being able to tell your story, practicing creativity, and curiosity.

Morgan came into my life when she was a pre-teen and our boys were tiny. It was her family that took care of our older son the day and night I was at the hospital when our younger son was born. She has always had the sense of humor of an adult; a funny, sarcastic, somewhat English-style-dark-humor adult. I'm sure that's a big part of why we connected from the moment we met. As she grew up, she spent a lot of time at our house, helping with the boys, babysitting, and helping me with housework, keeping me company. She even took a few road trips with me so I wouldn't have to travel alone with the two little boys. We often laughed so hard we would cry. I had to pull over once in the middle of Nowhere, Why?oming because I was laughing so hard my stomach cramped and I had trouble breathing.

As Morgan moved through those difficult stages of adolescence and young adulthood, she remained consistent in her ability to share stories, even when her self confidence was limited. Her creative sense of humor is a big part of what makes people want to be around her. This is the woman who was able to make me laugh out loud shortly after my father died. And whenever she is afraid, she faces the fear and pushes through it because she's curious about what will happen when she takes the plunge. And I think she doesn't want to live with regret, the question "what if I don't do this?" is the one that pushes her through her hesitation.

While I like to think I've been a significant positive influence in her life, I know she has had as much, if not more of a positive impact on mine. When she asked me for advice through all aspects of life, from mean girls in middle school, to registering for classes in college, she not only listened to what I said, she asked the right questions and followed through when she said she would. She made it clear that when she asked for advice she would really listen when it was given, like accepting a gift. I learned how to present criticism more carefully; I learned to be more sensitive in my actions. I learned how to offer guidance without judgment.

My relationship with Morgan, and many years of providing guidance in the form of "don't do this, because when I did it..." for my sister, are the reasons I found coaching to be a big part of my career. By advising these two creative, curious storytellers, I was able to learn a lot about myself and what makes a successful person - no matter how you define success. They're the reason I came to the conclusion that to be successful in life, you need these three components: Storytelling skills, creativity, and curiosity.

When we tell a good story, we connect with people on a level deeper than just sharing a basic conversation. Stories are what bring people together under the umbrella of humanity. We share vulnerability, humor, and intelligence through our vocabulary, facial expressions and body language.

When we are being creative, we open ourselves to a different set of possibilities. Creativity actually changes the way our brains solve problems.

And when we are curious, we push ourselves to step out of comfort zones and into the unknown.

When I think of the people I respect and admire most, those are the common traits. Truly, I've never met someone with all three of those that wasn't also compassionate and considerate. Coincidence? I don't think so.

Take the Hint - Or Take a Fall

I was in my early 20's when I noticed this pattern. If I look down at my hands and find three or more minor injuries requiring BAND-AIDs, I know I'm missing something. Two are a small hint, three will require serious introspection. When I see three, I know I'm not being present, that my brain is not in full-function, problem-solving mode.

That's my hint to take a long walk, a long drive, or simply find a place to clear my head. Sometimes I go to my clay studio and play with mud for a while; more often than not, I choose to take a long walk. Whatever I do to find my balance again, to center myself, I do it with intention.

Years ago my best friend called me, full of frustration and anxiety as she was between work trips. She traveled a lot back then and as she arrived home at her apartment, she called me to share her anxiety. "I left my sunglasses in the rental car, my phone charger in the hotel room, and my book in the seatback pocket on the plane."

Her voice was angry, with a little sadness at the edge. I told her to sit down. "I have a million things to do before I leave again in two days!" Again, I told her to stop what she was doing and sit. right. where. she. was. I heard her heavy sigh as she slid down onto the floor, legs crossed, purse thrown onto the chair.

"Remember when I told you about the three BAND-AIDs on my hands?"

"No. Seriously, Sarah, I have too much to do to just sit here."

"Trust me. Stay where you are. When I have three BAND-AIDs on my hands I know I'm not present. Those bandages are my hint to stop, take a breath, and re-center myself."

"Ok. So what? Do you have three bandages on your hands?"

No, sweetie, I don't. But you do.
Losing your sunglasses, phone charger, and book are very small hints for something that could be much, much worse. Those are your three bandages, your warning that something much worse can happen if you don't take some time to breathe.

"Now. You are going to slowly get up off the floor, put on good walking shoes, and go for a long walk around your neighborhood. You are going to walk for a minimum of 30 minutes, looking at details of plants, houses, and people. You are going to lose yourself, completely clear your head of your "to do" list, and focus on things outside your own brain. And when you return to your apartment, you will call me and we'll walk through your list."

About an hour later she called me back, a substantially improved tone to her voice. She was back to her old self, confident and calm. We chatted away while she started laundry, cleaned up dishes in the sink, and started a grocery and errand list.

What are your three BAND-AIDs? Are they small physical injuries on your hands? Are they lost items like keys, sunglasses, or wallet?

The next time you notice a few things out of step, stop what you are doing and breathe for a minute. Take inventory of the last few days to see if maybe you're missing something - like being present. Walk, bike, do something creative; do something that clears your head. It must take some time, a minimum of 30 minutes, to be intentional about finding your balance again.

What are the consequences of not being present when you're driving, spending time with your children, cooking with heat & sharp objects? In my experience, if I don't pay attention to those bandages, I'm risking serious damage.

Here's what's being said about this post!

"Sarah, you have eloquently illustrated the need to reset ourselves after a sequence of frustrating events with your great story. It has also been my experience that if I don't the negative outcomes continue to get worse. For me, tennis is my escape. There is something about hitting that yellow ball and transferring all of my energy into every shot that is truly liberating. I can literally feel the stress leaving my body each time I hit the ball. By the end, all the tension is gone from my body. It works every time!" Ben Walker, Founder and CEO at Transcription Outsourcing, LLC

Ah HA! Moments in Coaching

It's pretty amazing what we can discover in ourselves when we are serving others.

February was a big month for self-discovery. Through coaching sessions and discussions with friends, I've been digging into some of my own motivations and weaknesses. One in particular has been a deep and recurring obstacle: Contentment and satisfaction without the need for external validation.

If you know anything about me, you know I love to find creative outlets for myself and for others. I'm a big believer in exploring creativity as a means to increase and maintain elasticity of the brain. When your brain engages in a creative endeavor, say making music, cooking, knitting, writing, painting, coloring... it opens and builds neural pathways. Different creative activities create different pathways. Music activates one part of the brain, while writing (creative or non-fiction) activates another. Why does that matter? Because in real life as a professional, a parent, a friend, you are constantly required to solve problems. With a variety of creative activities in your life, you become a better problem solver.

While working with one client, I asked about his latest creative activity. When he told me about his project, I asked him what he would do with it after it was complete. He hadn't considered the idea of whether to display it or give it away. He didn't even really know what I was asking or why. I gave him an example: When I'm working on my pottery wheel, whatever I am building - whatever shape the clay chooses to form - I begin almost immediately to think about how it will be used and to whom I might gift it when it's glazed and fired. I asked my client: "When you complete this beautiful project, where will you put it? Does it matter to you that no one will see it?"

My question didn't faze him at all. That's when I noticed that I was projecting my concerns onto him. When I work on something important to me, I often find the need for some sort of external validation when it's complete. Why do I do that? Clearly the activity alone was enough for him to receive the benefits of being creative. Why do I need more?

In another conversation with a friend, I realized that many of us have similar issues in terms of baggage from years ago, from childhood, that manifest in our lives in different ways as we age and progress in our professions and personal experiences. When my friend and I talked about our childhood and teen years, we had a lot in common: Lack of self confidence, detractors in our lives who made negative and long-term impressions on us in their insults and demeaning comments in areas they knew we were particularly self-conscious. As children, we had both been told, in some way or another, that we weren't enough; we weren't smart enough, good looking enough, athletic enough... etc. My situation was quite different in that I had parents who were my biggest cheering section. It was peers that I allowed to do the damage to my self image.

Those childhood and young adulthood impressions and internal messages, though we fight them every day, manifest themselves in different ways in our lives. My friend allows those internal messages to make him hesitate when he knows he should move forward. He second guesses himself to the point of paralysis sometimes. I allow those internal messages to make me feel the need for external validation of the skills and values I bring to the world. For both of us, these are not only self limiting messages, they are damaging to those around us. We create a self-sabotage environment by allowing that history to manifest itself into our current lives.

As I've said in past writing, there is no easy answer. I believe being self aware, introspective, and consistently curious are the keys to learning, growing, and defeating these internal messages and negative life patterns. Now that I know where it is coming from, I can change that message from way back into my childhood.

Without understanding where our self-sabotaging behavior comes from, I don't think we can address it and change it. That doesn't mean placing blame; it means letting it be what it WAS, something from the past. Look at the current evidence of your life for proof that you are not who you were as a child or teen, that the successes and resiliency of your recent life are what define the current version of you. Make sure that what you are putting out to the universe is exactly what you want in return: Love, joy, curiosity, creativity. The next chapter of your book hasn't been written yet. Make sure you write it with intention.

What baggage are you holding onto in your life? How is that manifesting in your current situation?