by Jill MacGregor

I have a spot reserved in my heart for the small voice that speaks at the exact moment the yammering crowd silences –when the noise parts and the small voice says the thing everyone is to afraid to say—and usually the last thing I want to admit.

Finally.

Sort of.

But until that voice speaks, the yammering persists. And amidst all that noise, seeds are planted—well, thoughts get planted—firmly, in my rocky, little pea patch of a brain and sometimes the one thing that thrives is doubt.

Excuse me while I second guess myself.

Psst. Shut it. Busy in here.

This small voice—let’s call it clarity, bright and glaring. My horrible internal friend who would never be mistaken for a yes man, by anyone’s definition.

This small voice, is not always kind but it is so on the money. Its sentences often start, “You know exactly what to do, you big whiner…” and “Seriously?”

This small voice is the first to announce: “Something is not working. Welcome to your crossroads.”

To which I respond, “Aww dang—again? Sumbitch…”

Choosing the Right Story for Yourself

Bringing things together in your life requires patience and persistence and percolation.

I love alliteration.

Developing your personal mythology is not for the faint of heart. Your story gets really interesting at the So, here I am at a crossroads part, especially in retrospect. In the moment, it’s a churny pain in the ass.

Let’s look at what got you here.

Untying Your Knot

For things to change, something usually has to stop or end. Sometimes it’s not your choice; sometimes it’s not any easy choice to make. And at first, you might even miss the thing that you’ve let go off and you may notice that it’s left a little black space where nothing else seems to grow.

Loss can make you hesitant. Loss can also make you fight for the wrong things.

Wrassle. Struggle. Fight. What do you want me to tell you—that it’s not fair? Maybe, but this story is yours for a reason.

You’ve got something to solve.

It may all start with some reoccurring pattern—that’s usually what the struggle is all about. That thing you thought you had already done for the last time but here it is again just in different wrappings.

Truth, the hot stinking truth—it begins to seep into your situation and you welcome it the same way you welcome noxious gas. Why is it that something that is designed to be such a solid, helpful reflection of our internal and external situation can make us hide and deny its existence? Truth is such an influencer even though our ego likes to claim that role for itself.

Cue denial. Perhaps it will only make a short cameo.

But, you’re starting to get it. Because that small voice keeps chirping—it is the smoke detector that has a dying battery. It’s going to keep beeping until you change the battery.

Truth–just try to ignore it. It will stand too close until you feel its breath on your neck—truth is a bullying, forcing function. Truth can be very intimidating—how do you argue with something that’s –well, undeniable?

But you do spend some time arguing it down ‘cause you’re so smart—and you are as effective as a drunk arguing for his car keys. You want it your way. But the truth has no flexible points. It is what it is– clear and firm.

The Desire to be Real

“It’s not what you did. It’s what you do next.”

A friend said this to me while we were philosophizing and it has stuck in my head, echoing around in the wide open spaces of my mind.

It’s not about the damage. It’s about the reconstruction.

Not about the omission but the commission.

Not how it ties you down but how you free yourself.

It’s what you do next.

I have a tendency to rub my face in my mistakes, like a bad dog who should know better, hoping that the sting of shame will be enough of a reminder to keep me from making the same mistake again. It can be hard to pry myself out of the constant replay I force myself to watch.

I bet we all do that to some degree.

Shake it off like a wet dog. Your task is to live in the present.

What are you going to do next?

I bet it’s going to make us pick up our pompoms and shake our asses.

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by Jill MacGregor

liminality: a psychological or metaphysical subjective state, conscious or unconscious, of being on the “threshold” of or between two different existential planes

I harbor a deep and growing resentment toward the horoscope in the Sunday paper. It repeatedly tells me *today is a 7*. I cannot get past a 7. Every flipping Sunday—7.

My horoscope score (HS) is a 7.

I just invented Horoscope Score^TM.

Everyone else is having 8’s and 9’s…it makes me think they get tired when they get to September and they say, “Aw, let’s just give the Virgos a 7 again. They won’t notice.”

But we do. We are Virgos. And that in itself is not always easy—nor is it often a 7.

Liminality showed up in recently my horoscope and caught my eye…it felt so very *not* a 7.

Sidebar: Sometimes I read other horoscopes only to gather evidence against my argument of being a 7. Because, of course, I want to be fully prepped to defend my case in Horoscope Court. Best argument to date: I am definitely not a 7—maybe more of a 9 or, dare I say it, a 10—because I am experiencing liminality.

So, moving from the topic of my horoscope rage…I think there might be something to this liminality–excuse me while I overuse my new word. I do feel like I’m in a bit of a jumping off place (HS 9)-—maybe a launching pad (HS 10)-—or if nothing else, some sort of transition (HS 7).

Transition is such a boring word, boring like buying tires. When you think about it, a step forward involves one foot in the past and one foot in the future. Passing from one to the next—let’s call it what it really is.

Time travel (HS 11).

My next step creates the past just as it creates the future.

Liminality. So much more interesting than transition.

Jill is experiencing liminality. Jill is liminalious. Liminalicious. Even though I’m not sure how to use it in a sentence, I pretty sure it will make you study me and wonder.

And not think I am just having a mid-life crisis.

And, as you study me and wonder, you will notice that things are mid-process, that colors are slipping off me only to be replaced by new ones. You will see all that I have shed lying in a heap at my feet and wonder about the slightly raw and pink newness that has taken its place. You will nod at my desire to stretch my new baby muscles, tight like rubber bands.

You will think words like re-invention and rebirth.

That sounds so much more glamorous than mid-life crisis…

But the Virgo in me wants to distill it down to its truest nugget – and also find something I can use properly in a sentence.

I’m doing gap assessment.

Once you understand where the gaps lie—that tender spot between what is and what will be—you can then lash your bridge together and close said gap.

This will allow me to touch something that I once could only see from a great distance.

That’s got to be at least a 9.

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by Jill MacGregor

Action expresses priorities.

~ Mohandas K. Gandhi

Drowning and Swimming – both involve water and splashing about but, of course, you’d never confuse the two. You may think that’s a ridiculous statement but reflect a moment. There are choices you make, things you decide to do that make you sink like a stone in life yet you tell yourself that they represent forward motion. You are in the water and there is splashing…but you are going down.

Are you struggling for the fun of it? And as you say “Why would anyone choose to struggle?” three or four people will probably pop into your head.

Are you one of them?

Ask yourself this: What do you think you deserve?

It can be very simple: Are you able to say please and thank you—and really mean it?

But that is other people. You’re fixing to get to that super important life changing thing as soon as you make it through your to-do list.

Sidebar: So that I can avoid all the messages from friends asking why I wrote a blog post about them…this is not about you.

This is about all of us.

Which one of these feels familiar?

The Finger Puppets, Dancing Bears, Key Shaker—

You’re very practiced at finding that clever way of not getting it done completely or correctly each time. You avoid your goal by adding yet another elaborate task to the mix. You’re the man behind the curtain, pulling levers, creating smoke—hoping that no one ever discovers that you are a fraud.

You don’t seem to be comfortable getting what you want. But all the talk you do certainly distracts the crowd. All the puffs of smoke and brightly colored scarves in the air…there’s a lot to look at even though it contains no substance.

You’re afraid. But we all live that moment. Put away all your magic tricks and tall tales and start talking about your fear. Pick one person. You will probably hear this: “Yea, me too.”

Everyone has fears. Gently give yourself permission to be human—the rest of us already have.

You are a doer of great things.

The Gift Blocker—

It’s never going to be right for you, is it? You’re always wishing that it had happened at a different time or a different way—because then it would have been perfect and only then could you have enjoyed it.

Your focus is on the *not* and *if only* portion of every situation.

Maybe there’s a part of you that feels this approach shields your from disappointment–to start all new endeavors with low expectations. But you’re really making a declaration: please take your stinkin’ gift back because I can tell, without opening it, shaking it or holding it up to the light that it is subpar.

Opportunities are given to you, just like gifts, and you never know how a gift will change the course of your life.

Life is a bag full of surprises and you, you are here to LEARN.

Because let’s face it. If you knew everything, we would have put you in charge a long time ago.

The Spin Cycler—

You make problems for the sake of making problems and love the accompanying struggle like it’s a badge of courage. You spend a lot of time tying tiny little knots in things, then spend more time untying them only to call it *progress*.

Imagine all you could accomplish if you used all that energy in a different way.

Creating churn and froth is not forward motion. Churn has no give back. It’s not a sign of innovation to build something only to tear it down.

Honey, hop on the Love Train, immediately. Your burning need to identify everything that you think is wrong is delaying you from seeing everything that is wonderful.

So, no more pretending, no more avoidance. Quit being a puss about it. Today. Accept the gifts. Embrace the positive. Allow for differences. Be your strongest advocate. And, become a laser beam for all you wish for—even if deep down inside you think you don’t deserve it.

Here are some easy words but also a possible hard truth: you do deserve it.

Get ready.

If you liked this, you may want to read:

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by Jill MacGregor

giving the paparazzi the stink eye in my younger years

I have found myself running into the girl I used to be lately. You may think that must mean some carefree version of myself, untethered by serious adult themes but that would not be the case.

I’ve definitely gotten younger as I’ve gotten older.

But I am rediscovering an old theme—an old ghost—that used to keep me up at night. It’s that first hurdle we all are faced with, I think: What am I supposed to do with my life? Who am I supposed to be? What am I meant to influence? Am I smart enough to recognize the signs that will point me in the right direction?

Honestly, I’m not sure I’ve ever stopped asking myself these questions.

These questions definitely got stirred up recently when I found an artifact in my closet.

I keep thinking about it.

It’s my Strong-Campbell Interest Inventory Assessment. I can’t believe I still have it. I remember when I got the results –some 25+ years ago—I thought it was full of shit. Because at 23, I already knew everything.

EVERYTHING, people.

Except what to pursue as a career.

At 23, I was using my double major of French and International Studies to manage a trendy, little bakery. At this point, I think it’s important to remind you that “croissant” is French and I pronounced it better than anyone at the bakery.

Yep. That’s what 6 years of French and living abroad for a semester will get you.

So I baked. And I loved it. I loved researching new recipes. I loved the science of baking and its demand for precision. I found that the toque I wore at work was tremendous camouflage for my increasingly unusual hairstyles/hair colors. No customer knew what was going on under there until I *released the Kraken* at the end of my shift and the long pink curls fell over one eye in direct contrast to the buzz cut on the rest of my head and the –gift with purchase–long purple and blond tail.

My hair was a strange cross between Burt Lancaster in Elmer Gantry and the female singer in the Thompson Twins.

It was the ‘80’s…

But here was the rub. You see, the 2 years after college I’d watched many of my friends put on suits and go to traditional jobs that somehow corresponded with their college major while I put on my apron and baked.

And as time passed, I began to feel the difference in the choice I’d made–to the point that I began having very quiet conversations with myself about doing something that might involve working for the MAN and following a path I proudly fought for no real reason…other than being young.

So, I searched a bit of counsel.

And, as I sat across from the career counselor, my erupting fuchsia curls assaulting her very senses –and at the very college that encouraged the pursuit of my French major even though the reasoning for my choice was “I like French”– I realized she was just a few years older than me.

But she wasn’t wearing Birkenstocks or smelling oddly of chocolate and vanilla or thinking, as I was, that I needed to go to the co-op and get some falafel before that new client stopped by to have me read their Tarot cards.

She was probably thinking how nice she looked in plaid and that her brunette bob was never going to go out of style.

I imagine her thoughts were peppered with ideas about career trajectory and maximizing her potential.

I was a little jealous of her at this moment for her ongoing clarity that led her from one sensible decision to the next. It made me feel a bit…cartoonish.

I approached the test results the same way I would have approached a horoscope: slightly skeptical but still hoping to find some definitive answers for my life.

She said my results showed that I would probably never be a farmer or in the military, as if a single glance wouldn’t have allowed us to come to that conclusion. I rated lower than low when it can to teaching, especially as a foreign language teacher, or any career that ended in -ist or -ian.

I scored very highly with the Artistic themes, though, especially with art and writing. There was a high score in Adventure, however that is translated. The job that popped highest on my results was advertising executive.

That would so be working for the man.

I shifted nervously in my Birks and rolled my eyes.

I also scored highly with the Enterprising themes especially in the Sales related field.

I was horrified. Selling? That is so what the MAN would want me to do. Sell a thing to make money. It sounded horrible.

These results seemed to fly in the face of the life I was currently leading. Because, people, at this point, I was volunteering at the co-op to get my 15% off of my organic kefir. I took my own jars…And lets all remember this was 25+ years ago which officially made me…a granola.

Alright. Get the picture? I was a pink haired, Birkenstock wearing granola who ran a bakery and read Tarot cards professionally on the side. My friends and I discussed our auras and the use of cranial sacral massage to rid us of baggage from our past lives.

When I left I felt quite certain that the test only had the ability to discern my dislikes and absolutely lacked the power to tell me what I should do with my life.

I discarded the (NOT)Strong-Campbell Interest Inventory Assessment that day.

So imagine my surprise when I found these test results—which are such an ancient artifact that they are printed on paper.

Because when I short list my career and interests now…well, I ended up pursuing everything that damn test said I would.

When I eventually left the bakery several months after taking that test, full of fear and the absolute knowledge that I was doing the right thing, I started a 20+ year career in advertising sales, working at TV stations around the country. Much to the horror of my woo-woo friends…

I’m an artist and have been showing my paintings for the last 5 years.

And I’m a writer.

Show off-y test.

It makes me feel a bit like a word problem—that somehow I can be solved mathematically. And I’m sure you can understand how frustrating that is to the girl with the pink hair and too many piercings– that she can be so easily deciphered. After all the work she had put into being unsolvable.

I couldn’t help but notice how things have changed—and how they have stayed the same–when I ran into this girl I used to be. We both live by our intuition but I notice, now, how much more informs my intuition than when I was younger—fortunately.

And, we both love the smell of the unbeaten path and slightly uncharted forward motion. It has always led somewhere interesting.

If you like this, you may want to read:

by Jill MacGregor

I have been practicing being strong with my least strong part.

My weakest part. I map its boundaries, feel out it’s yes and no and then try to push past that a little bit more, a little bit more, like a runner trying to steal second base.

There’s nothing like being on crutches to be reminded of how much people want to help for no reason other than to lighten your load. People make more eye contact and smile. Open more doors. Ask how you are.

We seem to need that visible sign of weakness—it gives us permission to help. Without the visual prompt, it is easy to forget that everyone is practicing to make their weakest part stronger…one way or another. And that your offer of help is welcomed.

I am sitting on my couch in my stretchy clothes finishing my morning coffee. Christmas lights are still twinkling while Kate Bush is singing about her love affair with a snow man for the trillionth time– *spoiler alert*–he melts. The two kittens I adopted weeks ago, Lizzie and Nox, are bookending me, one high and one low, alternatively making biscuits, giving each other baths and snuggling with each other.

I feel very content.

The sky looks full of snow—this I derive from living in the Midwest for decades, a place where figuring out the weather is as serious as laying a bet. But after 15 years in Seattle, I know the house will always win…skies are not used to predict here…they usually change like a mood…of a small child…who may be having a tantrum.

I’ve taken off a few months to heal from a hip replacement and I feel great. I was taken care of, and because of my slightly thorny nature, this seldom is allowed to happen. My family took care of me. My friends took care of me.

Strangers took care of me.

But there’s something about receiving all that care…it put me in such constant proximity with gratitude on a regular basis.

They may have replaced more than my hip.

My incision travels up the side of my right hip for 12 inches. Yes, I measured it. It is my 4th big incision. Four–one for each hip surgery. I always request they take out the last incision before they add a new one. Maybe they’d do that anyway and they are humoring me, allowing me my moment of power as I hand myself over to them oh so powerlessly.

And, now, I find myself quite amazed…I have so much more energy now that pain isn’t casting a dark cloud over everything. I feel a little younger, which is slightly ironic as I find myself bent over a cane.

For now. Just part of the practice.

One of my friends told their daughter about my surgery. Her 6 year old response was wide eyed with discovery. “Jill’s a robot,” she stated slowly as she realized I was probably the only robot she knew.

So now I have a titanium rod where my drilled into, pinned, arthritic like a 90 year old chunk of femur used to live. And a lovely, gliding ceramic hip joint were there once was bone on bone.

We should rename my femur. Femur sounds so * original parts* instead of new and improved. It should be a name that sounds strong because I want to be STRONG. I want it more than having a small ass. I want to do those karate side kicks. I’m ready to run in 3 inch heels. I long to take 2 steps at a time.

Femurnium.

Rodmur.

Titanbone.

But I understand, first, that I will need to be off the cane to accomplish these things.

So I practice.

All of this fresh, newness has me thinking as I enter the New Year. The New Year—it always feels like a freshly painted stage on which to perform. The demarcation point when we can let go of the things that no longer serve us. The moment when we officially give ourselves permission to begin again.

As you start your new year and continue your work of making your weakest part strong, ask yourself these questions.

What are you deciding to accept?

Acceptance can mean so many things: it can represent forgiveness, loving not in spite of but because of and seeing beauty where you once only saw flaws. But the shadow to that can be doing something because you feel you have no choice, staying in a situation because you feel there is none better and giving up and embracing a long love affair with your pain. Remember–its always about your choices and you always have choices.

How are you managing your journey?

The first step of any journey is understanding where you want to go. How do you want to feel on this journey? What kind of people do you want to surround yourself with? How do you want to grow? What practical steps need to be taken to move forward?

Are your problems really problems?

Maybe your problems are simply puzzles. And the best way to conquer any puzzle is to step back from it, alter your perspective and reconsider. You may just be using old, worn out strategies. Its been your *problem* for awhile now, hasn’t it. Perhaps your hitting it with a hammer on a daily basis is not going to provide the solution you need. Try one different approch today. Ask for help when you need it–you are not responsible for recreating the wheel.

Wishing you the best this year as you continue to grow strong.

if you liked this, you may want to read:

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by Jill MacGregor

You, with your mad bag of skills. It’s amazing the knowledge you’ve amassed. But you’re so familiar with all the many things you can do that you can’t see how unique their combination is.

That unique combination really makes you special.

I wish you could see it like the rest of us do. You might consider one of your skills and think, “Meh, what’s the big deal?”. Sometimes all of your talents can feel unconnected, like a bag of loose strings. It’s only when you link those skills together that they create this wonderful alchemy— making YOU uniquely YOU—and making you uniquely able. Equipped and prepared for something very special.

Even if you’re not quite sure what that means.

No one has your exact set of life skills—do you get that?

So–what are you being trained for?

It’s an interesting question to ask yourself especially at a moment if you’re feeling a lack of direction in your life.

Every event, every person that crosses your path, every question you ponder, tragedy you experience, emotion you can’t reconcile, every old pattern you work to overcome, every darkness that was illuminated, every joy, every connection—everything that may have made you ask “why me?”—these are all building blocks for your life’s resume. Preparing for the all important.

It’s about fulfilling your superpower.

Nobody can do what you can do. Really.

Own up to the fact that you possess a unique dexterity. This is a time of percolation. It’s all coming together.

So, that all important task(s) that you are built for—it may serve a multitude or a handful. Maybe it will change one life.

Maybe that life you change will be your own.

Never discount the importance you play in making the wheels spin and the gears shift.

Life changer.

Mountain Mover.

What are you being trained for?

There will be moments when the mutinous crew that lives in your head takes over and you will find yourself full of doubts. Those moments… when you feel like you’re not measuring up and that the only solid connection you can make is to one of lack.

You may not feel strong.

It’s okay.

Maybe you don’t always have to be the strong one.

You just need to have the right combination of tools in your tool box—and you’ve been amassing those tools your entire life. And you just need to be standing at that right place when only you can do that specific thing—and life has a funny way of making sure you’re at bat when you should be. There is a specific thing that your life’s events have molded you into—have molded you for. The thing that changes everything…

Think about all those tools in that toolbox of yours. Any suffering you’ve experienced has provided you with unique sensitivities and compassion—such important tools.

Your joy, your spirit, your faith, your kindness are important but those feelings don’t always get your attention in the same way. You have a tendency to forget them like Christmas morning. You focus more on the things that you don’t understand, the things that make you feel alone, the things that make you feel like you’re doing it all wrong.

All the things that steel you…they don’t exist to dishearten you, although that may be hard to remember at times.

Your struggle may just be a necessary ingredient.

Your pain may be an important pathway.

Ask yourself regularly what you are being trained for. You may not understand until after it’s happened.

But it’s going to happen.

If you liked this, you may want to read:

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by Jill MacGregor

Uno mas, por favor.

We’ve all got a list. Some days it’s longer than others. Welcome to Part II of The Stop Doing List. Here’s Part I, if you’d like to get caught up!

Always pay attention when your clutch starts to slip.

Life has a wonderful way of giving you clues. First of all, I would like to tell you—in a seemingly unrelated matter– that I drove a clutch for years. I was quite sure it confirmed my coolness. Picture me: shift into 4th, light a cigarette, change the CD, talk on the phone…so glad no one died in the process.

But I began to notice that it was costly to drive a clutch—for me specifically, for some reason.

Because, as I discovered, for me a clutch only lasts 40,000 miles. Basically, 40,000 to the mile. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that most clutches could last at least 80,000 miles. WHAT? Who are these people with their fancy ankle movements and keen sense of timing—their feel for this piece of machinery…they were basically one with their car.

Oh.

Hey.

I am no longer as cool as I thought. Grind my gears…

So—after numerous clutches, I read the writing on the wall. I now drive an automatic.

But the funny thing was, when I did drive a clutch, I became extremely sensitive to the clutch as it began to slip. I knew that that hesitation meant I had about 5,000 more miles if I never stopped on a hill. I knew this delay meant I was down to my last 100. And I knew when I couldn’t shift out of 2nd that I had about 35 miles before it all went to hell.

Pity I didn’t possess the same sensitivity all those times I would shift from 1st to 2nd whilst the clutch was still functioning.

So consider this. What if everything has a clutch? And there are moments in life when you feel something give. Do you ignore that slip, pretend like nothing happened? Or do you consider it an important warning?

All I’ll say is every single time I’ve ignored the clutch slipping on something in my life I’ve realized—in hindsight—that I was being given important information.

It’s time to stop feeling guilty about not doing more.

We all make these lists, these long, long lists of everything we need to accomplish in the next 20 minutes and that’s not always…realistic. But why is it that we never seem to give ourselves credit for all that we did accomplish? It seems like the hairy eyeball always goes back to the didn’ts instead of the dids.

I doubt you’d be so harsh with someone else.

Recognize that there are always more choices.

There is no such thing as not having a choice. There is such a thing as possibly not having the exact choices you wanted. But, you’ve always got choices.

Obstacles to the choices you want can throw you off. Sometimes, you stop considering all of your possibilities when confronted with a roadblock. You come to that crossroads with a preconceived notion and if the choices present themselves differently, you can lose sight of how broad your possibilities really are.

Becoming anxious about what can feel like a lack of choices can make you become a bit of a drill sergeant, yelling out to the Universe how you want things and when, in your desperate attempt to feel back in control. I was talking to a friend recently who laughed at me as I described this and said I was handcuffing God by being so exacting with what I wanted. That my specificity to the details could actually limit my choices.

Because even though I know what I want, I’m not always correct in what I want. Cue theme song: *Unanswered prayers and other great favors*.

Next time you feel yourself in situation with no choices; look closely as the choice that makes you the most uncomfortable. Pay attention to the resistance you feel around that choice. I know you’d prefer things be smooth and easy but resistance is important in your life.

It’s there to tell you things are about to change. Things want to change. Resistance has a way of pointing to the next step you are meant to take. Yea, I know. It very possibly may not be your first choice. But you will gain so much in the long run.

This is a personal growth moment and you ordered it whether you realized it or not.

Yea.

When you find yourself on the edge of loss, you must dance.

Every sorrow contains a reflection of promised joy.

Sometimes the work is not in dragging yourself through periods of sadness and loss—maybe the work is in stretching enough, pushing yourself so that you can glimpse the other side. This is not a place to sit and rest—you will regain nothing here—and you will only erode further if you remain.

Ask for help if you need it. Forgive what you consider to be weakness in yourself.

The hardest thing to do at moments like these, is to find the joy–to make yourself get up and dance. It’s also the most important thing.

You may feel like you’re faking it at first. But trust me, you’ll hear the music soon enough.

If you liked this, you may want to read:

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by Jill MacGregor

ENOUGH.

I hate it that this word ever needs to be said but it does. And when it’s said it is usually because someone was not reading the room, someone was pushing or greedily grabbing, ignoring the looks and the signals.

Sometimes it’s you. Sometimes it’s me. So much for being perfect…

But enough, already.

I know I’m calling this The Stop Doing List but we could just as easily call this The Start Doing List. Consider these recommendations your next steps right after you’ve said enough, already.

Understand that success requires more than your lucky pants.

Sure, I’ll give you *being in the right place at the right time* when it comes to accomplishing all that you want to in life. But in return, you have to put the following on the table: dogged determination, ongoing skill development and creating connections with the people who will mentor you to your next version.

Because your success will not occur in a vacuum.

Boy, a plan of action makes me feel good. I love to chart a course and Plan A/B/C my way through it mentally. Ever *forget* to put that plan into action? You’ve worked out the details in your head which is such an important first step. But it can be very easy to stay in the safe cocoon of planning—instead of what can sometimes be the trickier stage of cracking that whip and making it happen.

If you’re going to sail around the world, your ship has to leave the dock.

Don’t get pissed at me…I do not make the rules.

When it comes to your success, don’t be a leaf on a river, just drifting where you may, seeing what lands at your feet, crossing your fingers that it will be interesting.

Your life is not meant to be a casual walking tour.

This is about your happiness. This is how you signal to the world who you are and what you’re about. It’s about satisfaction and getting what you want. And although I am a firm believer that the Universe plays a hand in our lives—whether we ask for it or not—it’s also about being an active participant in getting what you want.

Pray to God but row for shore. Fight hard for how you want your life to be. Are you the one person you can always rely on—that one person who will battle to make your success happen?

Boy, I hope so. Nobody’s going to do it for you.

Stick your hand in the woodpile.

Snakes, I was always told by my Granny. Don’t you go putting your hand in the woodpile—it is full of snakes!

Now, you and I both know that snakes need the sun and they are not going to be hiding in a cold woodpile, waiting to strike. But that warning sure kept me from finding out. It made me afraid to investigate further.

Snakes, people!

I grew out of that…quickly—and life got more interesting. How can we not praise naughtiness, the breaking of rules and mild civil disobedience? Sticking your hand in the woodpile is just another way of saying: take risks. Do things in spite of knowing how it’s going to turn out. Don’t always do what you’re told—really, it’s just someone else’s opinion and your opinion carries just as much weight.

Get surprised—better yet, surprise others by your actions. It will only give them food for thought.

Hot dog bun or croissant?

You know those croissants you get at the grocery store? They look like croissants but they taste like hot dog buns—yes, those. We’ve all bought them once because they looked so tasty…until we took a bite.

Please. It’s so disappointing to be wrong like that. To expect one yummy, wonderful experience but to be met with a dry, flavorless one instead.

It’s not that we have a *wolf in sheep’s clothing*issue here. You already kind of know it’s going to taste like a hot dog bun. Consider the facts—it’s wrapped in plastic, for God’s sake. Flakiness is a thing of the past. Your *croissant*is sitting in a case next to a doughnut.

Come on.

But you were optimistic. Maybe THIS time it will be different… You know the only place to get a good croissant is the bakery. Its nothing but hot dog buns at the grocery store.

It is so important that you call things as they truly are, not what you’d like them to be. And this goes for identifying people as well. How many times have your hopes led you down a merry path? It’s good to be optimistic, but sometimes your rose colored glasses get in the way. How many times have you called a person a croissant—you’ve hoped, made excuses on their behalf, coached them—but, they’re just a hot dog bun.

Think of the time you could have saved.

Discern quality when all the markers are there. And they are ALWAYS there.

Make sure you know who and what makes you feel at home in the world.

Call it a security blanket. Call it your soft spot to land. Call it what makes you realize who you really are. These are the people and things that ground you to who you are, they are mirrors that reflect the true you back as a reminder when your own vision gets a little hazy.

They are your litmus test about doing the right thing with the right people. Your sounding boards, your go-to’s, your ports in a storm.

They are the only voice you hear when you find yourself on the ledge, the first person you think of when there is joy to share, the ones who help carry your worries when they feel too heavy.

What a huge and important job.

The great thing: it’s reciprocal.

You’re theirs, too.

Part II of The Stop Doing List will be out this Friday. I obviously have a long list of things I need to stop/start doing…

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by Jill MacGregor

Every time I see you falling, I get down on my knees and pray…
I’m waiting for that final moment you say the words that I can’t say.

~New Order

We could all use a kingmaker. That influencer who initiates or completes action to our benefit. The muscle who ensures that things get done for us. Someone who toots the horn on our behalf. Our quarterback, our Godfather, our Fairy Godmother.

Maybe you’re a kingmaker in your own right—ensuring that the light is pointed on the right person and stepping into the shadows while others shine. It’s not that you don’t want the acclaim; you like praise for all you do and achieve. But it does require a certain eye to do what you do, doesn’t it? The ability to see someone else’s promise…tilt your head, squint your eyes and easily connect their dots.

Do you do that?

Maybe the position of kingmaker is filled for each of us—maybe each of us has one—or a number of kingmakers—who slide in and out of our lives, nudging and influencing. Helping us get important things done in our lives, whether we realize the power they’ve possessed or not.

Is your role to clear the path or walk the path? Think about it. Which role do you play? How does that role change as people weave through your life?

Upended by the Fantastic

The help that comes from nowhere.

The moment of clarity in the storm when you see, you understand and begin to trust.

The overwhelming sense of wonder when things work out in ways you didn’t foresee.

Do you ever wonder if the Universe is your kingmaker? It’s so easy to take providential moments for granted. They happen a lot. So often, we misplace their connection in our lives. Our gifts, our bennies, our mulligans.

Do you experience moments of peace out of nowhere? They serve as reminders in your harried world that all is moving as it should, you are exactly where you should be, and a universal machine is operating behind the scenes entirely on your behalf.

Sometimes a feeling blows over you like a warm breeze, quick and sudden. It reminds you that your problems have solutions—all of them—even if the solutions are out of your current line of vision.

That feeling reminds you that you can always be an answer for others — each of us can–by starting with the universal questions–and we all know what those questions are: Why me? Why not me? When? Why am I struggling? Why do I feel alone? Why do I feel lost?

Whatever the question is—submerge yourself in the unknown waters of others and be the kindness and understanding they may need. Be the connection they’ve been searching for—the path that directs them to ideas, other people. Or back to the core of who they are.

Find a way to be that answer for others, you, kingmaker, you.

It may be an interesting point to notice how others are working behind the scenes in your life—clearing your path—just when you need it.

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