Episode 116: The Realities of Improving Our Polarized Communities
In 2018, Monica Bourgeau felt compelled to write a book that would help people come to a basic understanding about our common, “wicked” problems, and how to help create solutions. Her October, 2014 article on Huffington Post, “7 Ways You Can Change the World”, continues to grab views, and she was hearing from readers that the article made a big difference for them.
Stories that Offer Hope For Our Polarized Communities Through Understanding and Non-Judgment
Monica Bourgeau, Author of The Change Code
In 2018, Monica Bourgeau felt compelled to write a book that would help people come to a basic understanding about our common, “wicked” problems, and how to help create solutions. Her October, 2014 article on Huffington Post, “7 Ways You Can Change the World”, continues to grab views, and she was hearing from readers that the article made a big difference for them.
Her original plan was to expand on that article, share stories about each of those seven ideas, and make the book not just inspiring, but actionable.
Though her vision didn’t falter, it did shift as she started writing the book. She was introduced to the theory of Spiral Dynamics, pioneered by psychologist Dr. Clare W. Graves, when an announcement was made following a church service as she sat with her daughter one Sunday. There would be a six-week workshop on the theory, which focuses on how our communities develop in terms of self-actualization and community values, and offers a visual representation of why those matter.
Monica was immediately intrigued, though she had never heard of Spiral Dynamics before. She signed up to participate and committed to attending every session, despite her already hectic schedule between work and home life.
Through that program, she started to piece together the relationship between her original article and the concepts of Spiral Dynamics. Over the next few months, she fell deeply into research, interviews, and storytelling around the theory - but what was most important to her was uncovering how to apply it to bring people together.
The key to the theory isn't necessarily to understand each of the waves Dr. Graves describes, but to grow into a sense of non-judgment when considering where people are on that spectrum of self-actualization, values, and motivation in order to connect and collaborate.
It's really about how to adjust our conversations to consider the people in front of us and the environment that shaped them. This is the only way to develop trust and to develop solutions for the complex, extremely polarizing issues facing our global population.
Monica’s book, The Change Code, was recommended to me by my dear friend Andy Hedges, who happens to live near Sydney, Australia, and whom I’ve never actually met in person. We connected on LinkedIn years ago and became close friends despite the distance. When he suggested I read the book, I didn’t hesitate, and I’m so glad for that recommendation. As I read it, I realized Monica was on to something, and I reached out to ask her to be a guest on my podcast as soon as I finished reading the book.
As small-world as it gets, I looked her up on LinkedIn to find that she grew up here in Montana, and that we have quite a few mutual local connections. As we started to chat for this episode, we realized we had even more in common, including an overlap in Fort Collins, Colorado in the early 90s.
Episode 115: This Too Shall Pass, For Better or For Worse
This would be my last hike on the mountain for at least a month, and as my dog panted and slobbered by my legs, I felt it – grief. I would leave my mountain and my dog for an entire month. Maybe this was a mistake. I sat down on a rock and tried to meditate, to just be still for a few minutes to let the thoughts flow and clear.
Everything in Life is Temporary, Embrace the Transient Nature
I stood at the summit of my mountain, Mount Helena in #Montana, breathing hard after the fast climb I took, trying to keep up with the dog.
Summit of Mt. Helena, Helena, MT January 2020
It was spectacular, as always. No matter how many times I get up there, probably nearly a hundred times in the 20 years we’ve lived here, it always takes my breath away, literally and figuratively. Gazing to the southwest, there are no buildings, just huge, snow covered mountains and forest as far as I can see. To the north is our town’s guardian, the #SleepingGiant, a #mountain I had an opportunity to climb a few years ago. I looked east to see our small city 1,000 feet below me, the Cathedral, the dome of our Capitol building, and the beautiful buildings of #CarrollCollege slightly north of downtown.
Sleeping Giant - head to the right, large nose, Montana
This would be my last hike on the mountain for at least a month, and as my dog panted and slobbered by my legs, I felt it – grief. I would leave my mountain and my dog for an entire month. Maybe this was a mistake. I sat down on a rock and tried to meditate, to just be still for a few minutes to let the thoughts flow and clear.
But I had too much going on in my head, packing, making sure everything was in order in the house, plans to check in with our son who would be taking care of the house and the dog. Far too much clutter was in my head, and I knew the only solution was to raise my heart rate again by jogging down the mountain, watching for trip hazards and ice, not allowing distraction by focusing on what was right in front of me.
When our youngest started high school, my husband and I started talking about what we would do when he left home. My husband already worked remotely for a company, so he could work from anywhere. It was my job that kept us in Montana year-round, and one idea that really appealed to us was living in different places for four to eight weeks at a time, getting to know another town, locals, cultures, and exploring different parts of the world.
Over the next few years, I started to build my #coaching and #speaking business with that idea in my head. I could either make this business successful and generate income, or I would have to find a company that would allow me to work remotely. My eyes were always open to opportunities with companies I thought would be a good fit for me, but nothing ever quite fit. #ElkinsConsulting would have to generate more income.
Our son started as a freshman in college last fall, and when we moved him into the dormitory, my husband and I talked again about our dream to work somewhere else for a month or so. We settled on the central coast of #California for our first experiment in living away like that.
Lots of research later, we decided on a #beach house within our price range, paid the deposit, and began the preparation to live away for an entire month in the winter. No #snow shoveling, no bundling up in hat, coat, mittens and snow boots to go to the grocery store for a whole month. We were both eager, excited, and a little anxious.
It was the day before our trip would begin, and I found myself sitting on the top of the mountain, worried and feeling a sense of grief – of loss – as I contemplated leaving my beautiful mountain, my boys, and that trusty dog by my side.
The next day, we were only 10 miles from home when started thinking of the things we forgot, things we had intended to bring with us, but decided not to go back. And the next evening we were checking into our home away from home, late at night, in the dark. As I used the code to unlock the front door, I could hear the #ocean nearby, but I couldn’t see it.
On our first morning, we walked the block west from our house to the beach and marveled at the little town we would call home.
We went out for breakfast that first morning, and as I walked into the little café with my Gates of the Mountains cap on (a famous section of the Missouri River near Helena, home to a boat tour through part of the Lewis & Clark expedition route), the young woman at the counter said: “Is that hat from Montana?”
Yes, the very first person I met on my first day in a little beach town in California was from Helena. She went to the same high school our boys went to, and had moved to live with her father and finish her senior year in California. Small, small world. That interaction felt like confirmation that we were right where we were supposed to be.
I completely overbooked my schedule that month with travel in the area and guests coming to spend time with us. The time absolutely flew by, but I took great advantage of my time there. I walked on the beach almost every day, took off my shoes and waded up to mid-shins in the ocean, picked up beach glass, shells, and sand dollars, and almost every evening my husband and I would walk to the pier to watch the sunset.
On our last day, after I had most of our things packed up, I walked by myself back to the beach and took off my shoes to feel the #sand and the #sea. Standing there, watching the waves, breathing the briny scent of the ocean, and watching the birds poke in the sand looking for food, it happened again. That moment of grief – of loss – as I contemplated leaving that beautiful place.
Cayucos, CA, February 2020
This time, though, it didn’t last as long as it did on my mountain. I realized it was exactly the same feeling of #grief and #discomfort as I felt before I left my mountain just 4 weeks before. Smiling to myself, I took in my surroundings, deeply #grateful for both the ocean and the mountains, and filled with the kind of #comfort and #peace you can only find when you embrace the temporary nature of life, and make a #conscious choice to live in grace and #gratitude.
Episode 114: An Accidental and Rewarding Career
Ash Rao fell into a career that now, ten years into it, she continues to find rewarding and challenging. What she seems to love most about her work as a recruiter and career coach is that moment when she identifies something special about the person in front of her or on the phone. When she figures that out about a person, she can truly help them find a job they love.
Stories That Shape Us Aren't Always Our Own
Ash Rao, Career Coach
Ash Rao fell into a career that now, ten years into it, she continues to find rewarding and challenging. What she seems to love most about her work as a recruiter and career coach is that moment when she identifies something special about the person in front of her or on the phone. When she figures that out about a person, she can truly help them find a job they love.
Because so much of our happiness and satisfaction in life depends on having a job we feel good about, Ash's work makes a huge difference in the lives of the people she serves, and she honors that with every conversation.
Our conversation was rich with ideas about career transitions, what makes her feel rewarded and satisfied in her work, and the legacy we can envision, especially as we experience grief.
Ash Rao works as a Global Talent Acquisition expert at verizon. She is a certified career coach and a published author. Her work has appeared in major publications like Thrive Global, Fast Company, and powerhouse global magazine.
Last year she contributed to the published book Tough Road Creates Tough People.
Her new podcast "Passion to Profession" is launching March 2020.
Connect with Ash on LinkedIn to learn more!
Episode 113: Stories that Create and Build Life-Long Friendships
I went to four different elementary schools, moved from Washington DC to Denver, then to Los Angeles, and then back to Colorado in Colorado Springs just before starting junior high. My closest friends were always my siblings because we moved so much in those early days.
It’s a Different Kind of Love in Life-Long Friendship
I went to four different elementary schools, moved from Washington DC to Denver, then to Los Angeles, and then back to Colorado in Colorado Springs just before starting junior high. My closest friends were always my siblings because we moved so much in those early days.
But in 2nd grade, I met Amorisa Lynn at Devonshire Elementary School in Chatsworth, CA. We were best friends immediately because we had SO much in common. We were both tiny, and had long, very straight, very fine brown hair. And in 2nd grade, that’s all it takes.
I remember when a boy who liked her broke her pinky finger. Again, 2nd grade.
And I remember going to her home after school and for sleepovers. Her Taiwanese grandmother lived with them, and would fix us snacks and Ramen noodles - and wouldn’t let me use a fork or spoon - so I learned to use chopsticks like a natural.
Aimee, Sarah, Gwenda (Aimee’s little sister) - 1978, Chatsworth, California
Amorisa moved around even more often than I did, so our long-term friendship seems even more unlikely.
Aimee remembers lots of things I had forgotten, like the fact that I taught her how to flip an egg in a skillet, and how to make “Super Eggies”, which are typically known as egg-in-a-nest.
The strange part about our long friendship is that we only lived in the same place for a very brief amount of time. After 2nd grade I switched schools, then she moved away from our neighborhood. She finally got back to our neighborhood at the beginning of 6th grade and started school at the same school I attended, but then I moved, two weeks into the school year, to Colorado Springs.
We kept in touch all those years the old fashioned way - as Pen Pals. Yes, we wrote letters to each other throughout elementary school, junior high, and high school. We visited each other a few times, traveling across the country by ourselves and living as part of each other’s families for a few weeks at a time during the summer.
Here we are, nearly 43 years later, spending a weekend together in Cayucos, California, where my husband and I decided to rent a beach house for a month to work remotely in a place where we didn’t have to shovel snow.
Panorama fun in Cayucos, CA February 2020
I took the opportunity to record this episode of Your Stories Don’t Define You with Aimee, all about friendship, our friendship, and the idea of friendship itself, while we were together. This is the first time in at least 20 years that we’ve had time to spend together like this, and we took full advantage of every moment. And just like any other true friendship, we picked up right where we left off, never skipping a beat, like no time had passed between visits. The only evidence being a few gray hairs and images of grown children.
Amorisa Lynn Denzel is a freelance artist living in Ventura, California.
Photo of a painting by Amorisa Lynn Denzel
Episode 112: Why Do We Believe Lyrics?
I opened my eyes and the restaurant had become very quiet. Many of the conversations had stopped momentarily, and I noticed the host and a server standing at the edge of the dining room, listening. For the first time that evening, I had the attention of the busy customers and staff. Finishing the song, I could see from the expressions that the song hit its mark.
Lyrics Create Powerful Internal Connections through Stories and Emotion
“...but it’s the little things, the little things,
not expectations
that make life worth living, worth living.”
Spare Change at On Broadway, Helena, Montana (Photo credit, Angie Fiskum)
Those were the lyrics I was hearing in my head over and over again as I processed the previous two weeks of drama at our house. My husband had discovered this song by JJ Grey and Mofro, and had suggested we work on it to perform with one of our bands.
The first time we practiced that song, it was everything in me to sing it without tears dripping down my cheeks. The soulfulness that JJ Grey infuses as he performs it, through his tone, his phrasing, and his emotion, is captivating and heartbreaking.
I hadn't heard of JJ Grey before we started learning that song, but it didn't take long for me to find a few songs that were equally powerful.
As I performed it for the first time at a gig, I closed my eyes as I reached the chorus:
“Glory glory, hallelujah
The sun is shining, shining down
Glory glory, hallelujah
I’m alive, and I’m feeling, feeling fine.”
I opened my eyes and the restaurant had become very quiet. Many of the conversations had stopped momentarily, and I noticed the host and a server standing at the edge of the dining room, listening. For the first time that evening, I had the attention of the busy customers and staff. Finishing the song, I could see from the expressions that the song hit its mark.
Later that evening, as I was visiting with another musician who had come to support us, she asked me about the song. “I could tell it was really meaningful to you, Sarah.”
I couldn’t stop thinking about the response of the audience to that song as I tried to go to sleep that night. It struck me how powerful lyrics can be, and I started to wonder what it is about songs, lyrics, poems, and other forms of art that reach into your heart and soul and grip them in fierce joy and devastating sorrow.
What is it about music and lyrics that make us BELIEVE them? Why is it that we believe that there is truth in them, without any knowledge of the songwriter's credentials? Is he a psychoanalyst? How does she KNOW?
Think about the song you listen to when you’re sad, when you’re happy, the music that helps you process experiences. They tell stories with messages in them, and for some reason, even with no data or research to support the assertions, we believe them. Why?
Maybe it’s the fact that they speak to a human condition, common themes that we experience in life, isolation, pain, love, heartbreak. All the things we experience on a unique, individual level, but that resonate across all human life - even as we say: “You don’t understand” to someone who tries to help.
Spare Change at Draughtworks, Missoula, Montana 2019
Isn’t it puzzling that we respond in that way, to our parents, to our friends, “you don’t understand”, but then listen to a song written by a total stranger and find great comfort that he or she understands, even when the lyrics have nothing in common with our actual, individual experience?
My friend Trent doesn’t believe in empathy, and I can understand why. He says that when we say: “I know how you feel,” we’re shifting the conversation and making it about ourselves. How can we possibly know how someone feels if we cannot hear the internal voice that’s screaming at them?
And yet… we know, thanks to neuroscience, that we often cannot help mirroring - reflecting the emotions of another person. Which is basically the definition of empathy. But that’s not actually FEELING what someone else is feeling. It’s reflecting our version of their emotion, based on our own experience and internal messaging.
I do believe in empathy. I believe some people can actually feel what another is feeling, in terms of emotion, otherwise music and lyrics simply wouldn’t have the impact they have on us. And I don’t believe empathy is something we can or should teach. I would much prefer to help people learn compassion by learning to observe the emotions in others, and maybe have a sense through those observations about their happiness and pain through our own lens of experience.
Lyrics and music speaks to our humanity, our common language of the spectrum of emotion from euphoria to sorrow, bringing us comfort by demonstrating, through the songwriter and performer, that we are not alone in this world, that someone, somewhere went through something similar and came out on the other side.
I’m a big believer in identifying theme songs for different situations in our lives, selecting songs that speak to us when we’re feeling insecure, sad, lonely, or absurdly happy and satisfied.
I’ve found that when I have my theme song in my head, James Brown’s I Feel Good, before I step in front of an audience for a keynote, my energy is almost immediately transferred to the people in front of me.
What will your theme song be the next time you’re stepping out of your comfort zone? What lyrics will you have in your head that bring you comfort, that you believe to be absolutely true, to know you’re not alone as you step into the spotlight?
Episode 111: Learning by Trial and Error
And Teaching Others By Example
Dr. Liz Stincelli knew the traditional training format didn’t work for her. She had taken plenty of coursework on training and education, and used the traditional method of standing in front of a classroom and presenting material, and had been somewhat successful.
She knew two things right away:
That format didn’t help HER learn.
That format didn’t make her feel successful or engaged with the participants.
And Teaching Others By Example
Dr. Liz Stincelli knew the traditional training format didn’t work for her. She had taken plenty of coursework on training and education, and used the traditional method of standing in front of a classroom and presenting material, and had been somewhat successful.
She knew two things right away:
That format didn’t help HER learn.
That format didn’t make her feel successful or engaged with the participants.
So she changed it up. Her story is inspiring at many levels, the first being that she took a risk to change a tradition, and the second that she continued her quest to improve training despite setbacks and what I lovingly call “opportunities for improvement.”
Connect with Liz on LinkedIn to learn more about her, and to follow the great content she writes and shares!
Episode 110: If That's Not Nice, I Don't Know What Is - Kurt Vonnegut
Right after reading an article by Stephen Moegling, I walked into our living room, took a deep, satisfied breath, and took in the scene: Our older son, 21, was on the floor, snuggling our giant chocolate lab mix in front of a beautiful fire in the wood stove. Then I thought to myself: “If this isn’t nice, I don’t know what is.”
To Balance Bad Memories with Good Ones, We Must Actively Acknowledge the Good Stuff in Daily Life
Right after reading an article by Stephen Moegling, I walked into our living room, took a deep, satisfied breath, and took in the scene: Our older son, 21, was on the floor, snuggling our giant chocolate lab mix in front of a beautiful fire in the wood stove. Then I thought to myself: “If this isn’t nice, I don’t know what is.”
Then I went back to my computer and reached out to Stephen via LinkedIn, asking him if he’d please be a guest on my podcast. He said yes.
He’s just as warm and kind as his article gave the impression. We spent an hour talking about how he came to write the article, the changes he experienced as he addressed his stress during his divorce through a brilliant counselor, Frank, and the result of years of practicing the mindfulness strategies Frank taught him.
Stephen didn’t always have this calm and relatively easy-going presence. He describes his pre-mindful life as stressed, high-strung, type A, dissatisfied and generally unhappy. But what I experienced during our call was the opposite, I’d describe him using my sister’s phrase, baseline happy.
What can cause that kind of transformation? Being mindful of the good things in life, which doesn’t necessarily come naturally. According to the article, our brains hold onto those things we pay attention to, and it’s human nature to pay attention to the negative things that happen in our lives. We replay those old, negative memories/stories over and over again, creating almost permanent neural pathways around the emotions that accompany those memories.
But what if, like Kurt Vonnegut suggests, we notice those happy, satisfying moments. What if we stopped for just a few seconds to really take in the goodness around us, noticing how we feel, and creating a strong mental image of that satisfaction?
Listen into our conversation to hear how he was able to transform his mindset and his life, the stories he shares now to help others, and the beautiful way he now sees the world around him.
Thanks to friends Kimberly Davis and Melissa Hughes for sharing Stephen’s article on Facebook!