A story is like water
that you heat for your bath.
It takes messages between the fire
and your skin. It lets them meet
and it cleans you!
. . . Water, stories, the body,
all the things we do, are mediums
that hide and show what’s hidden.
Study them,
and enjoy this being washed
with a secret we sometimes know
and then not. [Rumi]

I wasn’t quite ready for
bare trees, but that’s
the sight which greeted me
this morning – maples with
great puddles of orange
leaves beneath them,
naked locusts and hickories.
Only the oaks still hold
their foliage, but even they
are losing leaves today.
Who among us is ever ready
for change? It comes anyway,
reminding me I’m not
in control, inviting me
to embrace what unfolds.
And I have to admit there’s
beauty in the filigree of
bare limbs viewed against
blue sky. A little reluctantly,
I welcome the reality of now. [Danna Faulds, Bare Limbs]

–

Recently it feels as if I’ve been holding onto life too tightly.

This week marked the end of a work project that I had been part of for 14 months. As a consultant, you always want your client to feel empowered and to one day not need your services anymore. Still, there’s something about endings that makes one pause, reflect and experience a variety of emotions. 

I have learned so much during my time on this project. Once shy, reserved and timid, I’ve grown into someone who is more comfortable in her skin, courageously speaks up, and has the strength of her convictions to drive results. 

As I wrapped up my last day, I felt a heavy sense of deep tiredness in my bones. The kind of tiredness that leaves your body warm, gooey and comatose; in need of an uninterrupted slumber.

The lessons I’ve learned during my time on the project have truly been golden. I learned about people, politics, life, and most importantly, myself. What I will and will not stand for. How far I am willing to go to meet goals. Who I am willing to become in the process.

But I’ve also noticed a constant hypervigilance about me. I’ve been “on” for several months; whether it’s the weekend or I am on vacation, I’d find my mind drifting back to work, problem solving the next anticipated issue. 

My mind became a rubix cube, operating on several fronts. Layer on personal & professional development; my propensity to suck the marrow out of every experience; working remotely (and how isolating that can be); responsibilities at home – and we have a racing mind. 

Seamlessly handing off the reins today was equal parts exciting and numbing. I’ve been entrenched in this work for so long; it has taken up so much space in my life; now what’s left is a void that needs attention. 

A happy/sad feeling, indeed. A friend wisely reminded me that life is constantly changing and shifting, like nature. And one cannot go against nature. Even chaos, which may feel unwieldy, is a part of nature. 

Change happens. Priorities shift. All we can do is reassess our priorities in light of changes and align accordingly. 

Alignment is key. 

Alignment is constant reprioritization; one must be comfortable constantly reprioritizing in the face of new information. 

I was reminded of this reflection as I signed off for the day and visited the Cantor Arts Center and Anderson Collection. Both are conveniently located on the Stanford campus and are generously free to the public.

As I immersed myself in the art and was draped by the calming silence of the museums, I realized that now is the time. First, to rest. Then, to reprioritize. To recalibrate. To detach and create neutral space. To assess what to do with this newly vacant space that’s been created. To give myself time to process the enormity of my experience. To embody the lessons I’ve learned. To step out of the mental rat race. To give my overanalyzing, rubix cube of a brain some much needed r&r.  To celebrate. To soften. To come back to center. 

Because as growth-inducing as the experience was, there can be times in life that are marked by too many lessons coming at you in a relatively short period of time – and this was that time for me. And though I’m all about self improvement, sometimes the concept of “self improvement” becomes code for “not being enough” – and it’s tiring to always strive and improve. Sometimes, it’s okay to be you – whoever you are that day. To not take that step forward. Flaws and all.

I was reminded of this through a sweet message that a colleague sent me after she learned of my last day on the project. She wrote: 

You have no idea how sad I am that you are leaving our team. I just hate it. You are so great to work with and we need you to continue doing the great work you have been doing. I will really miss you. And hope you stay in touch. 

Keep in mind, this is a colleague that I did not work with often. Nonetheless, I was blown away by her candor. It served as a reminder that I am enough, just as I am. In the race to constantly improve, sometimes we lose sight of how others see us. And in a world where we are constantly changing, sometimes appreciating how far we’ve come and who we are today, is enough. Being able to strike the balance between changing for the sake of improvement and being content with where we are today are important values. 

I’ve spent my time on this project changing like a chameleon; calibrating my message depending on who my audience is, bringing emotional intelligence to assess next steps and influence outcomes. 

But I still am who I am. And at the end of the day, whether I meet people that I like or dislike, it’s all one grand lab experiment. Whether to illuminate, contrast, or mirror, all of life’s experiences serve the same purpose – to show us who we are on this journey by giving us the opportunity to come to conclusions. To confirm who we are, by way of highlighting opposites, as if drawing out a silhouette. 

With all this in mind, I bid this part of my life adieu. I’m beyond grateful for the experiences I had, the lessons I learned and the friendships I formed. 

I’m going to give my mind a bit of well deserved rest and then start to think about intentions for the next chapter of my life.