soulsustenance

As I sit down to write this, tomorrow is the last day of 2018. There is something about a new year that brings inspiration, hope, and a renewed commitment to goals that were either previously abandoned or more recently construed. Each year on December 31st, a majority of the population (in my estimate) makes resolutions that promise to change their lives in a meaningful way, yet the sustainability quotient is overwhelmingly lackluster. Is the reason that we are a society of over-committal optimists who just don’t have the resources to follow through? Or perhaps there is some hidden saboteur whose mission in life is to intercept the ball beelining towards the touchdown?

My hypothesis is neither. I believe the reason we do not achieve our goals has nothing to do with lack of resources or some vengeful plot by the universe against our success, but rather due to our own fears: fear of overpromising (to ourselves and/or to others) and underdelivering, fear of outright failure, or fear that we don’t even have the power to set the ball in motion.

What is fear, really? Fear could be described as a lack of information or data, leading to a perceived lack of control. Naturally, when we set goals we are aiming for something greater; a new achievement that will elevate our sense of worth or well-being. That is the true objective, right? If we are not constantly challenging ourselves to evolve, to contribute, to elevate society as a whole (which may be rightfully within the realm of of our own families or friendship circles), then what is our purpose? We set goals and intentions that we expect will solve or help us avoid our future problems. If I only lost 15 pounds I would find my future husband and be happy; or if I got the job I would earn enough money to support my family and gain their respect and therefore I would be happy…

Could our goals be precisely what is setting us up for failure? While I acknowledge the power of setting intentions and language as a catalyst for action, fear has an incredible power to stop us in our tracks and convince us that we are incapable. Perhaps the fear is really a subconscious signal that we are seeking happiness in our external world when it’s actually wholly connected to an internal state. We need to somehow reconcile our true desires with the actual motivation, and detach ourselves from the outcome because our happiness cannot be tied to one result. We are only happy because we choose to be happy. We are only afraid because of past experiences that we project onto our future. If we can master living in the present with goals for a future state that help us evolve without defining our emotional experience of life, then we have really arrived.

Personally I am nowhere near this evolved spiritual plane (or whatever is required to overcome my own fears), but if I can at least achieve a conscious understanding of its origin and learn to set goals for myself that give me permission to change course without fear of judgement by myself or others, then I am on the path. Life is too precious to live wholly in the future state, believing that achieving a goal will make us whole or perfect. We also cannot live in the past, in which some experience we have witnessed or lived impresses a fear upon us so great that we are moved to inaction.  I propose we start each new year with gratitude for what the past has taught us, and with both optimism and drive to be better versions of ourselves – and if we fall off the goal wagon, we know we have the strength to get up, brush ourselves off, and smile because it reminds us that we are alive.

As I close an important chapter in my life, naturally I am reflecting back on the reason I started this whole journey in the first place. The other day I even asked out loud, “why did I do this again?” By “this” I was referring to a class/experiential learning practice that ultimately gave me much more than a foundation in the fundamentals of Ontological coaching (translation: the study of the nature of being). I was reminded that before I made this 7-month commitment, I sought new skills that might support my career and more superficially, an outlet for my free time. I imagined making new friends and stimulating my brain with something aside from being lazy on Saturday mornings. Ultimately, this experience did all of that and more. Most importantly, it gave me a fresh consciousness about my sense of self and purpose. My most cherished lesson from this class was that my highest value and contribution is just to be the best version of me that I can.

Like many others, I am seduced by the collection of possessions, accomplishments and accolades. After all, in general that is what our society deems important. I admit that I was even preoccupied with my performance in a class that was not graded! In actuality, my achievement was mostly self-measured – and surely I was harder on myself than my teacher. But what does it mean to just be? I question whether I can every fully embrace who I am separate from my results, and much less coach someone else to do the same. What would a world be like without an emphasis on achievement? As a businessperson and HR professional, I reinforce the importance of performance and results on a daily basis. Isn’t that what drives humanity forward? I guess if there is no foundation in the being there is no obtaining or doing anything. But what is the right mix of the three domains (to be, to have, and to do)? Is there really such a thing as a purpose without action?

My judgement is no, but the root of the issue is where and how we measure our value. Acting on goals and objectives in order to advance is part of human nature. But there will always be someone smarter, richer, prettier, and more successful. How much of our awareness of that reality is a productive motivator versus a destructive reminder of our own deficiencies? I know I have been caught up in the comparison game plenty of times in my thirty years where I have felt like my successes never measure up. At times it drives me forward, but on some occasions it paralyzes me.

In the last class of the Ontological Coaching Diploma, we closed with an exercise to define our mission as coaches. After answering a series of questions through a guided reflection, I composed the following:

“My mission is to serve human development through constant exploration of myself and my external world, in support of my central values of wellness and balance.”

After writing this, I realized that I actually do have a broader objective founded in my being. The accomplishment I feel is a sum of small actions on a day-to-day basis that support my principles. No Nobel Peace prize  or Miss America crown required. I do not claim to know the meaning of life and the true purpose of our extraordinarily significant, yet minuscule existence considering the scope of the universe. Maybe its all a scientific miracle, maybe its divine intervention, and most likely I will never really know for sure. What I can appreciate is that as humans we have a unique capacity to observe ourselves and question our own emotions, judgements and beliefs. We can take action and learn from our mistakes in a very conscious and deliberate way. I cannot take that gift for granted and the power that it gives me to fulfill my mission, which extends beyond the realm of coaching and into that of just being.

It was recently called to my attention how long it has been since I have written a blog post and until that reminder, I did not realize how much time had passed. Ironically, now that I am inspired to blog again, I am writing about the ever so fleeting construct of time. More specifically, I have been grappling with time as it relates to death and loss. Perhaps it’s a morbid topic, but that is just a judgment – my judgment and perhaps your judgment too. Many cultures actually embrace and celebrate death. Here in Mexico where I currently reside, there is a huge celebration every November called Day of the Dead. The multi-day holiday focuses on gatherings of family and friends to pray for and remember friends and family members who have died, and help support their spiritual journey. So why is death an idea that many of us refuse to confront? Why am I so afraid to face the reality that this life is a precious gift and I have no idea when it will end? A friend recently sent me a quote that sums up my thoughts:

“Death is always on the way, but the fact that you don’t know when it will arrive seems to take away from the finiteness of life. It’s that terrible precision that we hate so much. But because we don’t know, we get to think of life as an inexhaustible well. Yet everything happens a certain number of times, and a very small number, really. How many more times will you remember a certain afternoon of your childhood, some afternoon that’s so deeply a part of your being that you can’t even conceive of your life without it? Perhaps four or five times more. Perhaps not even. How many more times will you watch the full moon rise? Perhaps twenty. And yet it all seems limitless.”

—Paul Bowles, The Sheltering Sky

Sometimes I feel like time flies by, and other times I feel as if it just won’t move quickly enough. Ultimately, time is just a human construct and every individual is a unique observer of his or her own experience of it. What is considered fast for one person, may seem slow to another. But the clincher is that we never really know how much we have. I wonder, if we all knew how long our lives would last would we perceive the passing of time differently and make alternate choices about how we spend it? There is nothing like unexpectedly losing someone you love to jolt you back into the reality that there are no guarantees of any future moments other than the one you are living. And yet, I feel it is so hard to stay present and appreciate those moments. Cliché, I know. So why do I still take life for granted and even, on too many occasions, perceive it as mundane or unexciting?

One of my favorite new lessons from a movie I recently watched called The Peaceful Warrior, is that there is always something going on, even when everything around us seems dull and boring. It’s actually kind of mind blowing to contemplate. When I take myself out of my ego-driven mindset – recognizing that I am not the center of the universe – there are an infinite number of things happening simultaneously (and who knows, maybe even in parallel time frames) resulting in a constant, perfect exchange of energy.

Time is one of the few (maybe only) measurable “things” that cannot be bought, and yet I know I live so often as though I can. I am hurrying toward a future of which I am uncertain, and for what? As I have learned in the last few months and am still trying to incorporate, the future is overrated. Perhaps I am missing the full moon and it’s the last one I will ever see. We spend so much time mourning people that we lose (understandably so), but why don’t we mourn the precious moments that passed us by while we were not even paying attention? The multi-color sunset, the vastness of the ocean, or the missed interaction with a new friend or life partner – in a flash we miss it all because the future was for some reason a more valuable preoccupation?

I am sad, angry, scared, and overwhelmed by the recent loss of such dear people in my life, but I am also so grateful for the reminder of the value of now. Even now is hard to measure because it is so fleeting, but it’s always there – until it’s not. I am glad I do not have psychic powers to know when my time is up, because all that matters is knowing that I have now and it will always only be now. I look backwards with fond memories of people that I have loved and lost, but only because I built relationships with them over the course of time being present together. A compilation of incredible minutes, hours and days shared led to an even better now, and even though those people are gone in a physical sense, I have to feel comforted by all of the endless possibilities for beautiful moments to come, if I just stay present in this one.

 Dedicated to Greg Weister, Kathy Weister and Johanna Gordin

We all have dreams and aspirations, usually with the idea that achieving them will make us happier or more fulfilled individuals. Whether professional, personal, economic or service-oriented, somehow if we could just accomplish (fill in the blank here), we would feel complete – or at least pretty darn close. But at what point are we using those goals to fill an internal void? How can we be so sure that we are not clinging to a vision of how we think things should be and blinding ourselves to other opportunities or signs from the universe that alternative and maybe even better paths are open to us?

Recently I saw a film called “Hector and the Search for Happiness” and one of Hector’s findings on a journey across the world find the key to happiness is that it’s a mistake to think that happiness is actually the goal. The movie reinforced a question that I have been struggling to answer lately: is it possible that our dreams are actually limiting us in some way? I am definitely not the cynical type who walks around thinking all dreams and goals are pointless. In fact, I believe wholeheartedly that I am the master of my own destiny and that persistence in chasing my dreams is part of living life to its fullest. I suppose the honest question is, where are our dreams generated? Are they ego-fulfilling or truly calling us because they are aligned with our core values? Is happiness the goal or just a positive side-effect of living a full life?

This seems straightforward enough until I dig a bit deeper. What if family is an important value of mine and therefore I dream of a peaceful life filled by a doting husband and 2.5 kids? I suppose the true self-inquiry is, “would I be a whole and happy person without it?” and/or “will I punish myself in the form of suffering if life does not work out according to that vision?” If the answer is no to the first and yes to the second, then the next issue is what gap deep inside am I trying to fill through these external sources of happiness? After all, it is hard to have goals and dreams about a state of happiness that do not involve other people, places and things.

As I am learning (although struggling to embrace), true happiness absolutely must come from the inside – otherwise we are just fooling ourselves. We are putting a Band-Aid on a wound that will inevitably fall off over time and leave us exposed once again. No matter what we achieve, be they professional accolades, wealth or the “perfect” family, they are all just distractions from the real struggle: loving and accepting ourselves exactly as we are, in the here and now.

I am not claiming this is easy to do. In fact, it is something I wrestle with every day. In reality we have countless forces working against us, namely the other unfulfilled egos we interact with everyday that just want someone to pray on or commiserate with in order to feel better about themselves. It sounds blunt, but how many times do you find yourself in a position doubting your own self-worth based on the judgment (real or perceived) of someone else whom you deem more powerful or worthy of your credence? Hector’s first observation in his quest was that making comparisons can spoil your happiness. Traditional and social media are masters of reinforcing our comparison culture. They pray on our insecurity and send us subliminal messages that perpetuate this mental, emotional and psychological trap. It’s easy to become a victim of these forces, but often we are not even consciously aware of them. And while it is nearly impossible to live in a bubble, it is absolutely crucial to learn to filter out the unhealthy energies and interactions in exchange for those that encourage us to be our best selves, regardless of what is printed on our resumes or the balance in our bank accounts.

After a lot of contemplation and self-exploration, my sense is that true inner happiness is a process, not a magical state that suddenly hits us one day when we wake up. I’ve always been guided by goals and aspirations, but admittedly achieving them has not made me a better or happier person (as hard as it can be to admit it!). I managed to fulfill my goal of living and working in Latin America, and while I’m incredibly proud of that accomplishment, I still find other areas of my life to lose sleep over because they are not exactly as I imagined them to be, right now. That hole or gap I am trying to fill will not magically disappear once the next goal is reached either. The challenge is to let go of any vested interest and trust that the universe has a plan. If I can surrender to it’s will, perhaps I will be pleasantly surprised by the results.

So I return to the idea of setting a vision for a desired future and working to achieve it, but let it be a compliment to an already fulfilled soul. If we start from a place of abundance rather than need, than anything gained externally is just icing on an already sweet cake. No need to mind the gap.

 

Life is full of contrasting states or conditions, which by their opposing nature are often classified as positive or negative. Right v. wrong, dark v. light, good v. bad, fear v. love. In essence, most of us are trying to be the perfect version of ourselves, and thus reside permanently in the positive pole. Since we are all human, at times we falter and fall into the negative side, and the challenge is recognizing it, pulling ourselves out and crossing back over to the other. A practical example is maintaining a healthy diet and exercise regime. I consider myself to be a healthy person, but at times I just feel like binging on popcorn and ice cream.

If you believe in the Chinese philosophy of Yin and Yang, these dueling forces are actually complementary and interconnected. One would not be what it is without the existence of the other. We could not recognize “good” behavior if there was never any “bad” behavior. Perceived success would not be nearly as rewarding without having faced perceived failures.

But some experiences lately have me questioning if we are ever fully capable of residing on one side or the other – or if that is even something to strive for (unless perhaps you are a nun, monk, or a person who actively dedicates your life to maintain a highly enlightened state). It seems to me that we are all usually walking the line, in a constant tug-of-war with one foot in each territory. In particular, I have been focused on understanding the opposing forces of fear v. love. Fear-based decisions are not always bad, especially if they support a particular value. For example, I might stay in job I detest because I am afraid of change or financial instability. But ultimately, if my financial stability is so important because I am supporting a family which represents a higher value in my life, then although my decision might be founded in fear, it is really driven by love. A fine line.

Another situation I came across recently is related to blame and responsibility. In its purest sense, blaming someone else is a denial of our own responsibility for our actions and emotions. It is wasted energy and moves us away from love. It creates a condition in which one person is “right” and the other is “wrong.” But what do we do when we really feel hurt by another person’s actions? Of course we call it to their attention – otherwise it festers, causing us to suffer and begin to resent the other person. Categorically, there is no right or wrong, just differing perspectives. The challenge lies in how to communicate those feelings without handing over your power to the other person and negating your own responsibility. Another fine line.

I believe that inherent in our humanness is the constant walk on a balance beam between dueling states and forces. Our egos (our defense mechanisms buoyed by fear) are constantly battling our vulnerabilities (which are engendered by love). Ironically, ego v. vulnerability is not a good v. bad concept. In fact, I think both are necessary to grow and evolve as individuals who are intricately connected to every other individual on this planet. If that hypothesis is true, then maybe we are all always walking the line, stepping into one side or the other, and the balance of the world depends on that universal opposing power. If I am stepping into the dark today, someone else is simultaneously stepping into the light and all is harmonious. It helps us understand things like violence, hate and war.

Perfection is a desired state (at least for many), but it’s not a human one. If I can appreciate the interdependence of the contrasting forces in all situations and take responsibility for the part I am playing, then I believe I am a representation of a perfect, imperfect being. My soul may be perfect, but my actions are not. And just as I appreciate the summer heat so much more because I know the winter cold, I embrace my dark side as a contrast to my light, and I love more deeply for fear of a lack of love in my life. So walk the line, fall off into the dark side, and blame someone else on occasion, but allow the magnetic energy of the opposite pole to pull you back up and continue on your journey.

“Our true home is in the present moment. If we really live in the moment, our worries and hardships will disappear and we will discover life with all its miracles. Real life can only be found and touched in the here and now.”

This quote from Thich Nhat Hanh, a Vietnamese Zen Buddhist monk, is consistent with so many messages I’ve heard from wise teachers and individuals with significant life experience. While life is admittedly more enjoyable when we live in the present, as humans we inevitably fret over the past and the future. Perhaps it’s part of our fear-response to wanting to impact or control that over which we really have no control. In desiring to control the future and the opinions and actions of others, we also set certain expectations. Thus, we project our idea of what’s ahead– or how we imagine things should be – on ourselves, friends, family and even strangers.

Maybe expectations have a positive place in our psyches because they help us maintain certain standards of acceptable behavior or conditions. When we go to a nice restaurant, for example, we have particular expectations of cleanliness, quality of food, and service. This is reinforced when the list of prices printed on the menu requires shelling out 2-weeks’ worth of salary in order to dine there. Maybe then it is not wrong or off base to have particular expectations, and if they are not met then you can exercise your first amendment rights and make a complaint to the manager or write a nasty review online. That is of course a possible response, although it’s worth noting that it does not preclude us from paying the bill. So did the initial expectation change the outcome? Of course it did not.

Often, expectations lead to disappointment or discord because we are all separate, unique individuals operating with distinct ideas of how things should be or happen. Naturally those ideas may conflict or turn out to be unaligned with those of other people. This leads to a phenomenon in which not only do we realize through some event that our “realities” are inconsistent with our expectations, but usually we take it one step further with some kind of reaction to that sudden awareness. We attempt to change the reality to bring it in line with our original thoughts and in my humble experience this is usually a waste of energy and often leads to an escalation of conflict.

Expectations are inherently established with bind spots. Since we are all human, we are shaped by our upbringing and socialization, and usually guided by our egos. Therefore, we are limited in our capacity to examine the future anticipating all possible alternative views. I recently had an interaction with someone important in my life in which this message became quite clear. While we both planned to spend the afternoon together, he planned for us to go to a friends’ gathering with a group of people, and I planned to have a quiet dinner alone together. Neither of us expressly said in advance what expectations we had, and of course they were quite disparate. I responded with feelings of frustration and annoyance when I realized that his reality did not match my own, and in doing so I subconsciously believed that I could change the outcome in favor of my original plan. Ultimately, I could have chosen a juvenile approach by throwing a tantrum and potentially I would have gotten my way. But would I really? If he had conceded to that behavior, maybe we would have had our quiet time together, but both of us would have been in a sour mood and neither of us would have really enjoyed the experience.

So when is it right to set expectations and hold our ground? Or should we all just walk around so engrossed in the moment that we bend to whatever life throws our way, with absolutely no pre-conceived notion of what we want? Like most of life’s questions, the answer of course lies in some form of balance between the two. I do believe that goals are a variety of expectation we set for ourselves and they are a necessary motivator for personal and professional achievement. The key is our response when the unexpected happens (because it always will!). If there is one thing we control, it’s our attitude and how we adjust and adapt to situations where reality turns out to be misaligned with our ideas. In the case of my experience above, ultimately I recognized that I was having a negative emotional response (not quite an outright tantrum) and I consciously decided to make a shift. We compromised on the plan for the rest of the day and had a great time. I also think the extent to which we communicate our expectations dictates the degree of surprise that occurs when they are different from someone else’s. But the reality is mostly out of our control.

Expectations are normal and goals are inspiring, but life is unexpected. Period. Humans have an incredible ability to adapt and ultimately if we acknowledged that more, perhaps we would be less afraid of our futures and more open to different possibilities. So expect the unexpected and marvel at the wonder of life as it happens in the here and now.

On the heels of my mom’s visit to Mexico City last week, I recognized that for the first time when she left I didn’t experience the usual emotions I’ve had so often in the past; previously, I felt like I was like a baby with its umbilical cord being cut every time I had to say goodbye. Although I have always had a very close relationship with my mother and I was sad to see her go, I am realizing that my former attachment to her may have been a crutch and a replacement for an inner strength that I was missing. On one hand I rationalize that if we are here on this earth, living these blessed lives in order to give and receive love, that attachment must be part of the equation. I mean, how can we be expected to love unattached? As human beings with emotions and egos, we naturally have an inclination to attach ourselves to other people, places and objects. Yet as I have I started to contemplate this concept, I see how it can be both a critical human emotion and a defense mechanism to guard against fear and vulnerability.

I read a quote recently on the Soka Gakkai International web page (http://www.sgi.org) that reassured me that my feelings were not out of the ordinary or a result of simply being “unenlightened”. It said: “It is impossible to live in the world without attachments, or indeed to eradicate them. Our affections for others, the desire to succeed in our endeavors, our interests and passions, our love of life itself–all of these are attachments and potential sources of disappointment or suffering, but they are the substance of our humanity and the elements of engaged and fulfilled lives.” My thoughts exactly.

Yet viewed from another perspective, attachment could be confused for love itself, and it can be a very dangerous sentiment. For example, we may attach to people to an extent that we remain in toxic relationships despite our better judgment. Maybe they are abusive, or to a lesser degree just generally unsupportive of our goals. I know I have been in that situation and just how hard it can be to let go. The attachment to the other person is really masking a hidden fear of being alone, or maybe just a fear of change in general. In my case I felt like if I separated myself or changed the dynamic of the relationship that I had with the other person, I might never meet anyone else who could love me to that same degree. Fortunately, I made the self-loving choice in the long run to establish the distance that was required to gain a healthier perspective, but it was truly one of the more difficult decisions I have encountered.

We also attach to places. As someone who loves to travel and live in other countries, I cannot easily to relate to a person who refuses to step out of the ordinary and see all that the world has to offer. I can respect the decision, however I suspect that any desire to live in a bubble, no matter how much one likes where he or she is in a physical sense, is once again a fear of exploring what is unknown. Ironically, despite my love for travel, even once I arrive somewhere I find my “comfort zones” in places that become familiar and ultimately remind me of home. As ridiculous as it sounds, I will never forget the feeling of elation I experienced when I found my frozen yogurt and almond milk in Mexico City that I so loved in the U.S. After 9 months living without it in Argentina (not that there were not substitutions – i.e. incredible Italian-inspired gelato), I was overjoyed to see some familiar brands and products when I arrived in DF.

Attachment to “things” is also emotionally hazardous, yet not uncommon territory for me. I am guilty as charged; I cannot deny that I enjoy shopping as much as the next girl. The reality is that we live in a world full of messages that we need to acquire more, spend more, and that it will lead to more happiness. Maybe those things will lead to a higher status in many societies and circles, or make you feel more satisfied in the moment, but in the long term, they are ultimately unfulfilling and un-reciprocating. I cannot claim to be above it all and certainly we all deserve to treat ourselves to nice things; I also think we can appreciate material goods with a healthy outlook, yet it is slippery slope…it is not long before we have made the purchase of the latest style of shoes or bag before we forget all about it and start focusing on the next trendy acquisition.

So where is the line between healthy and unhealthy attachment? Personally I think we need to evaluate and ascribe to what truly has meaning for us and aligns with our core values. If it does not give us something in return, we are wasting our time and energy. Any attachment is a risk and brings the possibility of suffering if it suddenly vanishes, but so is anything worthwhile in our lives. Certain times call for detachment – but in the end we are also adaptable and resilient beings capable of digging out from underneath the pain experienced as a result of a lost connection (probably related to some divine design/ evolutionary quality to balance our egos). I don’t believe we should become emotionally devoid beings who maintain a distance and invulnerability, but perhaps we should be more conscious about where we focus our attachment energy.

In weighing both sides of this debate, I concluded that I want to feel attached to people, places and things because it reminds me that I am living. There is a stark difference, however, between a loving connection and a sense of fear or insecurity at the thought of a person or thing no longer existing in a tangible sense in my present or future life. In the case of my relationship with my mom, I know that my attachment to her did not wane, but rather that I have released a dependence I once had when I felt insecure about myself and my life’s path. I don’t pretend to be some supreme being who is “above” it all because I do not believe there is any superior or inferior feeling. But it’s all about a perspective. Attachment to my world makes it more authentic to me, which is only becoming more difficult in a virtual, often emotionally devoid reality. If I can feel, taste, touch, smell, and witness love and beauty, I will try to hold onto it for as long as I can. And I might just splurge on that purse I have been admiring!

Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about passion; specifically, how and where to find it in my daily life. I don’t mean the passion you might feel at the beginning of a romantic relationship, but rather the kind of passion that excites you to jump out of bed in the morning because you know you are living your purpose. There is nothing like the start of a new year to reflect on the past and contemplate what we want in the future (at least the short-term): which are the experiences that were truly meaningful this year and which were experiences that we’d like to forget or never repeat? What did we do this year that really excited us, or who did we meet that inspired us?

Although I may be able to answer these questions with a little consideration, I still find the question of my passion to be somewhat elusive. On the one hand I achieved a major goal for myself this year, which was to move and work abroad. Not only did I do it once, but I did it twice in less than twelve months. I now count both Argentina and Mexico on my roster of countries where I have lived (I am still in Mexico, by the way, and I am looking forward to staying for a while!) I landed where I wanted to be geographically and yet the emotional/spiritual/psychological question about where I am headed and what I will do there still remains.

In a conversation with a friend recently, we discussed why we often feel empty after achieving a goal when we have invested so much time and energy in the process. I would argue that we set goals in place of really seeking out and living our passion. Goals are less daunting, more achievable constructs and I believe they bring us more immediate gratification without having to tackle the bigger, scarier questions like why we are really here. They push us to keep moving forward, and simultaneously feed our egos when we accomplish them. Yet more often than not, our goals advance us in arenas in which we don’t even have a desire to play. They are a result of social pressures about what we should be doing, rather than what we really want to be doing.

While goals certainly have a value, finding our passion(s) is a challenge beyond any goal; it’s something that not everyone discovers, but I think that is primarily because we are inhibited by fear. We don’t want to suddenly realize something that would make us really happy would mean starting over and taking steps backward, even if it means going forward in the long-run. Or what if (gasp!) it wont make us any money? It’s hard to contend with the trap of the sunk cost. We feel like we are too deep or too far down one path to start something new. Yet, we could die tomorrow or at 100 years old, so what is time invested in the grand scheme of things? And who wants to feel like he is just clocking in and out every day, even if she is making plenty of money in the process?

Although I am dealing with my own passion pursuit, I know I am at least on the right track in thinking about it. In an article I read recently in Fast Company about finding your passion (http://www.fastcodesign.com/3028946/find-your-passion-with-these-8-thought-provoking-questions), it asks the question “looking back on your career (could also be replaced with life), 20 or 30 years from now, what do you want to say you have accomplished?” From where I am standing today I am not really sure, but I also don’t think it’s a question we can all answer out of pure instinct. While some are lucky to be born with a natural gift or calling, for most of us it’s a question whose answer evolves daily over a lifetime. Right now, I know I am passionate about experiencing other cultures and lifestyles; learning to communicate in another language with all the nuances that come with that challenge; and being a good friend, daughter, and hopefully a good wife someday. Maybe those are just goals (some achieved and some yet-to-be achieved), but they make me pretty happy. I am content in knowing that I am on my journey and for now, I choose to be passionate about all the gifts life has provided along the way.

What compels us to make certain decisions in life and follow a particular path, while we often think that oh so nagging thought of “what if”? What if we had made a different decision, chosen the path that deep down our heart longed for? What if we had to make a choice with the knowledge that we were going to die tomorrow (cliché, I know)?

Whether we like it or not, our heart is often clouded by our pesky brains – the classic battle between our emotions and our rational thinking. Our rational side, as a result of an essential evolutionary process, protects us from simply following our impulses and induces us to actually make calculated, sensible decisions to (hopefully) extend our lifespan. The reality, however, is that in this day and age, our interactions are more complex and our brains are more evolutionarily advanced. It is easy to blame being rational on a desire to look out for our best interests, yet more often than not, it is really just fear disguised in a pretty dress. But what do we fear, exactly? The irony is that the rational thinking that was originally supposed to prolong our futures is actually fear of that same future. Most right-minded humans do not walk around thinking that they will die tomorrow, unless unfortunately they have been dealt an unfair hand. For the majority, we are meticulously analyzing, planning, and saving for our futures in order to achieve the best possible outcome. I am not saying this is frivolous or hasty, but where does the planning stop and the living start?

I am the first person to raise her hand and admit that I am a planner to the extreme. I examine and weigh all my options, try to predict where each path will lead me, and I make decisions accordingly. In college I did not study International Relations as I had intended because I feared my only option after graduation if I wanted a “real” career would be to attend law school. I was not sold on that idea so I studied Business Administration instead. I knew it would give me options, and although it challenged me and I do not regret the decision, occasionally I still wonder that pesky “what if?” After college, I did not have a clear career path in mind, so I joined the competitive race for consulting positions since I figured it would be broad enough to expose me to a range of industries and functions, while serving as a good training ground for any forthcoming path I may desire. Sounds rationale, right? Looking back on that experience, I have never been more stressed and burnt out as I was during that time. Again, while I choose not to live in regret of that decision because I believe everything has a reason, I am sure I forsook my health and wellbeing for a year and a half of my life that I can never reclaim. You would expect the story to continue such that my consulting foundation fostered a network of prosperous relationships and served as a launching pad for my next chosen career move, right? Wrong.

In fact, the worst possible outcome happened (okay, there are worse things): I was “downsized.” The rug was pulled out from under my feet so fast I didn’t know I was on the ground with a concussion until I found myself in the Georgia Department of Labor filing for unemployment. Talk about humbling. I lived, breathed, and sacrificed to “prove” myself in a career that I felt was secure and would guarantee options, yet it ended in the blink of an eye.

While this experience was truly one I learned from (again, everything has a purpose), at the time it was traumatic to say the least. All my planning and meticulous steps to ensure the best possible future were gone in 60 seconds, and I was starting from scratch. What I really learned was that there is no guarantee of tomorrow, and ultimately we just need to be happy, regardless of how we define that elusive emotion. If being happy means preparing for the future then by all means, do it. But in my case, I think it’s really just fear of losing control and letting life in a little more. Why am I so consumed and overwhelmed by what “might” happen later and whether or not it is my perfect path? In boycott of fearing what the future might bring, maybe I should let go a little more and let it reveal what exciting secrets it holds if I try to control it a little less?

Not only have I felt the pain of this lesson in my professional life, but it has impacted my personal life as well. I seem to be attracted to people that live more from their hearts and less from their brain (not to downplay their intelligence remotely), and yet it is a constant reminder of what I am not. On one hand it is the source of many frustrations and disagreements, but on the other hand I think maybe if it’s drilled into me a little more, some of that emotional decision-making might just rub off. I suppose opposites do attract and culture plays a part in that wiring, but I digress…

The reality is that I am not going to wake up tomorrow and forget that my nature is to be guided first and foremost by my rational judgment. In many cases it serves me well and I do not pretend to want to be someone that I am not. I do, however, strive to repress those emotions a little less. After all, why ask “what if?” when you can ask yourself instead “why not?” Why not enjoy the present and worry less about whether what makes us happy now will continue to make us happy in the future? As so many others and I have learned firsthand, the future is out of our control and there is no day like today. So let’s embrace forever as a compilation of happy moments that may come with some heartbreak and low points, but along with that fewer “what if’s” and more high points as we throw a little caution to the wind. Carpe diem, que aprovechemos el dia!

There are just some moments in life where showing up is a make or break decision. If there is anything I am learning as I progress through this journey of life, it’s that we cannot go it alone. And in order to not be alone, we must not only make connections but also sustain them. Yes, that means putting in the work, which requires effort, occasional inconveniences and even money. But in the end, what else could be a more valuable investment?

Last weekend, one of my best friends celebrated her 30^th birthday and baby shower (1^st baby) in New York. Although many of us who attended do not live in NYC, or even in the U.S. in my case, I could not have imagined missing such an important event in my friend’s life. I do not cite this example to sound arrogant or because I expect praise for going, but rather because I was genuinely surprised at the significance of that decision. While I jumped at the chance to reconnect with her and other long-time friends, and I was fortunate enough to have the means and time to make the trip, I also did not expect such and emotional outpouring in appreciation of the effort (and it was not just because she is pregnant!). It struck me that these are the decisions that matter and accumulate to determine the course of relationships.

True to this sentiment, it is not a coincidence that my mom repeatedly mentions a particular event (it was the wedding of this same friend almost 5 years ago) to which my father did not to show up, and how pivotal it was for her in coming to a decision to separate. Of course it was not about whether my dad missed one wedding, but it was the accumulation of those decisions and the incredible impact they made until ultimately the relationship they once shared as husband and wife was no longer sustainable. Fortunately their relationship continues as a friendship and I harbor no judgment since it was not my marriage to uphold, but the moral of the story is that more often than not, we have to be there when it counts. Interestingly, I was dating someone at the time of this wedding that managed to fly halfway across the world after leaving his own brother’s wedding at 2am, to arrive in Texas just in time to accompany me and meet all of my friends. Clearly this was important to me, but I am just now realizing and appreciating the significance of the gesture where I was too immature to acknowledge it sooner.

I will not pretend that my trip to New York did not involve indulging in some hair styling and shopping; however it was underscored by this amazing reconnection with true friends around a supremely important time in life. It goes without saying that the onus is on each of us as individuals to communicate what really counts (not everything can be a make or break event), but I believe that generally if we open our eyes and ears it is fairly apparent. Our relationships can only remain relevant if we participate in each other’s lives. Besides, we would not have any reason to wear all our fun material things and debut those hair styles if we weren’t going out to enjoy those special moments with the people for whom we care the most.