love your life

Lesson #3 From My Year by the Water: Stop Driving Into Hurricanes!

The very first day of my adventure, I was driving to Chesapeake Bay to stay in a beachfront home a friend had graciously loaned me. The only problem? A hurricane was also headed there. As the winds whipped up and I could hardly see the road through the rainstorm, a thought bubble appeared above my head, "Why drive into a hurricane?!" Why to keep my commitment, of course. That's what I was taught to do. We keep our commitments - no matter what. . But this was unsafe. Maybe under the circumstances, it would be okay, even advisable, to "break a promise?"

I called my friend and told her I had changed my mind. She didn't hesitate, she said, "Good decision. There will be another, better time to stay at the beach-house."

An hour later, I was safely ensconced in a historic B & B in Annapolis, half-asleep under a fluffy down comforter. What a relief.

My epiphany? "Where else in my life am I automatically keeping commitments - out of habit or "integrity" - that were made long ago that are no longer relevant or healthy? Where else am I honoring promises I made to people who don't care if I change my mind; they may even applaud or be grateful for my decision?"

My friend Mary LoVerde says this has become a "go-to" phrase in her family. When she or one of her kids is about to head into a stormy situation, they stop and ask themselves, "Am I driving into a hurricane?"

If we know in advance we're heading into a hot mess, and we're doing it simply because we said we would, maybe it's wise to NOT DO IT. Maybe there are other options that are a win for all involved.

Sometimes it's not selfish to break a promise or opt out of a commitment; it's smart.

You may be thinking, "But we've got to keep our commitments. That's they only way people can trust us."

That makes sense and that's what I thought for thirty years. However, this experience opened my eyes to the fact that keeping commitments - no matter what - is not always optimal.

Honoring our "word" is an important characteristic. But a strength taken to an extreme can become our Achilles Heel.

If a relationship or commitment is not working anymore, if it's become toxic or stormy; if you wish you hadn't made this promise and want to change things; why not have a conversation with your client, colleague or partner to get their point of view?

Maybe they feel the same way. Maybe they have an idea on how to adapt or update the agreement so it works better for all involved. Maybe, together, you can come up with a more current, effective course correction and collaboration that benefits both of you.

A colleague told me this phrase, "Are we about to drive into a hurricane? WHY?!" has become part of their family lore.

For example, her daughter and son-in-law dreaded going to his parents' house for Thanksgiving because it was always a war zone. It was a day of uncles, aunts, and cousins all complaining and at each others' throat. Not a pleasant way to spend a holiday, yet this couple went year after year out of a sense of obligation. Even though it upset them to be in the midst of such conflict; they kept doing it because they'd made a commitment.

This past year, they got creative. They got in touch with his folks and invited them to join them on a different weekend at a timeshare they'd purchased. Instead of spending money on traveling to his parents' house for Thanksgiving, they offered to pay the grandparents' way to join them at this beach resort.

What a brilliant solution. The kids were happy because there was plenty to do at this oceanfront property, and the parents and grandparents were happy because they had together time without juggling everyone else's personalities and demands.

Next time you're about to drive into a hurricane, ask yourself, "Why? Are there options I haven't explored yet?"

You just might discover a better route, a new route, that bypasses the drama and trauma and ends up being a win for everyone.

stop driving into hurricanes

So, When Are You Going to Settle Down?

As we wrap up September and head into October, my Year by the Water is supposed to be “over.”  settle down - small I’m getting emails asking “Where are you going to settle down?” or “What are you going to do when it’s over?”

Suffice it to say, I’m not ready for this to be over.  And the words “settle down” are not in my vocabulary.

Why would I want to stop having the best of all worlds?

I remember something James Taylor said while being interviewed on CBS Sunday Morning.  The reporter asked why it had taken him so long between albums.  Taylor said he had been touring non-stop and hadn’t had the time or energy to compose or create.

The reporter asked, “So, you took time off work?”

Taylor smiled and said, “I didn’t take time off work; I did a different kind of work.”

That’s how I feel.  I’m still productive, still speaking, coaching and consulting. I’m just doing it while traveling to bodies of water around the world and writing about my experiences and epiphanies.

I’m not taking time OFF work. I’m working in a new way - an even more meaningful, joyous way.

Sir Frances Bacon said, “Begin doing what you want to do now. We are not living in eternity.  We have only this moment, sparkling like a star in our hand, melting like a snowflake.”

I know I’m fortunate.  I’m in a season of my life where I have the freedom, autonomy and health to do this.   I have a “portable” business I can run from anywhere.  My sons are grown, out in the world and thriving. As Tom and Andrew told me, “Mom, we got this.”  I understand one of the best gifts I can give them now is to model that we have the power to create our own SerenDestiny - a life where the light is on in our eyes.

So, what’s next?  Well, I’m headed to Pismo Beach where I’ll be keynoting the Central Coach Writers Conference.  Then, on to DC to provide media training for NASA and to attend the Washington West Film Festival.  Then … CHINA.  More details on that coming up.

One of the many reasons I want to continue my Year by the Water is because there’s still so many places I haven’t seen yet.  I still haven’t been to Helen Keller’s lake where she said her first word, “Water.”  I still haven’t explored Hudson Valley, Lake Louise and Banff, and the Great Lakes, (which, by the way, is THE most frequently recommended body of water people say I should visit when I ask for suggestions.)

And, I’m looking forward to returning to Montana.  I was just there last week speaking for Senator Daine’s team.  State Director Charles Robison graciously arranged to take me fly-fishing on the Madison River, which was featured in the movie A River Runs Through It.  Processed with Snapseed.

Alas, I got food poisoning and this guy at the airport was the closest I got to fly-fishing.  So, I’ve got a sun-check (what we used to call rain-checks in Hawaii) to go back to Yellowstone and Big Sky Country.

How about you?  Are you doing what you want to do?  Even if you have responsibilities – you’re raising a family, taking care of your parents, working full-time plus, paying bills, out-of-work, dealing with a health challenge – what is one thing you could do this week that would put the light on in your eyes?  How can you bring more of that into your life on an ongoing basis?

If there’s anything I’ve learned in the last year it’s how important it is for us to NOT WAIT for some future date to do what makes us happy.

I was having breakfast at an outdoor café near Morro Bay, CA on September 11.  A group of seniors at a nearby table were talking about how the country has “gone to hell in a hand basket” since then.  A rather grizzled gentleman in the group hadn’t said a word.  One of the women turned to him and said, “What do you think, Al?” He growled, “I think every day is a gift and we should act like it.”

Agreed.  Later that morning, I was driving through Santa Barbara on the way to LAX and stopped to get in my daily walk.  I encountered this stirring memorial on the beach by the pier.  I will always remember these flags, one for every person lost at the World Trade Center on 9/11, waving in the sea breeze.  A sobering reminder to cherish  ... every ... single ... day.

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