Leave it.

One of my coaching clients shared that this was her theme for herself this week.

Rather than obsess, perseverate, or allow a wayward thought to cycle again and again through her head, she told herself, Leave it!

My tennis elbow is back.

I am having trouble opening jars. Pulling my suitcase out of the overhead bin. Shaking someone’s hand. 

My heart’s hurting.

These days, no one has to ask why.

It’s what’s happening in Israel and Gaza. Ukraine. Other war-torn areas of the world. The divisive injustices against living, breathing human beings. The loss of life.

Dear Mom,

I wish you were here.

You could hem my pants.

I say this not because there’s no one else to do it, but because we’d laugh about how hemming is not a skill that I possess.

Consider someone from your life—present or past—who you do not trust.

Write their initials on a Post-it.

Colleagues and I did this exercise last week with Cory Scheer. He frequently speaks to organizations on this topic of trust.

If anyone had told me having a kid would be like wearing my heart outside my body….

I read this in an essay once.

If anyone had told me that birthing another human being would become the ultimate lesson in powerlessness and lack of control….

What? Would I have avoided it?

When I try to make sense of these times, I don’t get very far.

How about you?

A study conducted in my state of 9,500 people, including parents, teachers, and community members, showed high anxiety: 73 percent of parents said their child is as anxious or more anxious than the year before.

I bought some highly priced popcorn from a stand outside of Lowe’s recently.

I recognized the tan uniforms right away.

Boy Scouts! The same uniform my brother wore 40 years ago.

We visited some friends in Florida recently, and they took us out on their boat on the St. Lucie River.

It was a Saturday—the Stuart sandbar was full of sunshine and clusters of people chilling in hip-waist water under beach umbrellas, laughing, and chatting.

My friend Annie asks her kids to send her “Proof of Fun.” 

She came up with this trick to get her teenaged daughters to stay in touch. When they are out with friends, she asks them to snap photos of what they are doing. And all they need to do is text her a photo or two now and then.

My son just moved 1,500 miles away from me.

1,500 miles!

Away from me!

My only son.

Doggonit.

We will periodically tear the fabric of the relationship we are in.

Michael Bungay Stanier, author and coach, said this on a podcast recently. He stressed how we have to work at relationships to keep them healthy. In fact, his new book, How to Work with (Almost) Anyone is all about this.

Shhh…

Country Mouse, do you hear that?

The quiet rustling leaves of a quaking aspen? The bubbling of the mountain stream? The slow, liquid trill of the swamp sparrow? The evening peepers’ song by the pond?

Or…are you a City Mouse?

I requested a book from my local library recently: The Anxious Achiever.

My BFF told me about this book. She knew I needed it—achieving is one of my top strengths.

But in my small, rural town of 2,500 people, the library did not have this book. Nor did any other library in the state of New Hampshire.

Have you ever misjudged someone?

As in, really misjudged them?

And afterwards you realized how inaccurate you were?

I did this recently. It felt innocent enough, but in the end, I was way off.

I was in Amsterdam recently.

ING, a Dutch bank, has placed an intriguing set of bright orange billboards on the airport jetways there. They launched this branding campaign a few years ago—at the beginning of 2020, just as the pandemic was gathering steam. The campaign is about “encouraging people to do more of the things that move them.”

Ever feel a nudge?

A tug on your arm?

As if a kid is trying to get your attention?

Hey, you! Mom, Dad! Over here!

I was at a coffee shop getting morning java on a steamy summer morning recently.

There were five or six people waiting for mobile orders, and five or six in the analog line.

The drive-thru was packed, and the workers were frantically dashing about behind the counter. I got in line, but just in case, I filled out a mobile order.

I just spent a weekend with my BFF at her cabin in the woods.

When we first met at a writing workshop 25 years ago, she pronounced matter-of-factly to our class, “I don’t want more friends. I am only looking for people I can workshop my writing with.”

That's how we became best friends.

Have you ever had a moment that changed the trajectory of everything?

These defining moments tend to stick in Kodachrome.

I just had one.

One minute, I was walking a block from a hotel to my rental car in Queens—it was 4:15 am, pitch dark