podcasts

Walking with my daughters, a boyfriend, and my earbuds

Biking with my daughters, a boyfriend, and my earbuds #365StrongStories by marisa goudyThis year, our snow days are being used to honor the beauty of May. We get to celebrate our freakishly warm winter with bike helmets and sunscreen since we didn’t need to use those days waiting for the plows to come around. My six year-old learned how to ride a two-wheeler this week, so we’re heeding the siren’s call of the rail trail. As I push the toddler in the stroller, my big girl stays close. She wobbles as she tries to match my walking pace because, unlike the evening before when she gleefully peddled ahead, she seems to need to be in my orbit right now.

There’s a sweet jolt when I realize “this is one of the perfect moments.” I sense I’m reliving a scene from thirty years ago. It’s a different setting and there are new characters in the starring roles, but here I am hoping one daughter will fall asleep and praying the other doesn’t fall off her bike, just as my mother would have done.

There’s a thread through time, braiding us together. Our connection will never snap, even if my mother and my daughters will never walk the same trail together. I feel my own first-grade memories entwine with this moment, and my pace slows with the weight of my gratitude.

Of course, there’s one vital element that separates this particular idyllic scene from what my mother might have experienced. It’s not 1986. It’s 2016. This mama has an earbud plugged into her head and occasionally has to say “wait, what did you say?” as she fumbles with the pause button.

I’m not even sure why I think I need the extra stimulation. My phone is on my hip (the better to count my steps) and it seemed like a good idea to multitask and keep up with the “you must listen to this!” recommendations from colleagues.

Of course, I am only able to open up to the grace of my children’s magic and my mother’s blessing when I stuff the wires in the stroller and decide to be present. I’m not surprised that being there with my girls is more fulfilling than one more grown up filling my mind with more stuff to do and consider and change.

If I’d still been walking in two worlds, in this perfect spring morning as well as someone’s basement recording studio, I can’t imagine I have exuded the welcoming, present energy that invited my daughter to say, “Mom? I have a boyfriend…”

I am sure I wouldn’t have been able to take a breath and respond with a few gentle, open-hearted questions if I were half listening to something else. I am sure I would have squawked “what!?!” and crushed the moment flat.

But this isn't a post by a saintly iPhone free mother

Thing is, this experience probably isn't going to change my behavior - at least not completely. There will be many more bike riding/ stroller pushing outings this year and I am sure I’ll take headphones with us most of the time.

I want to be honest with myself as much as I want to be present with my kids. That means I need to balance the feeding of my mind with the caring for my children. It means reflecting on my own needs and those of my family, making conscious choices, and practicing compassion through it all.

It also means getting the support where I can get it. If there isn't a loving grandmother or a village of other moms around to help us deal with the tough moments (ahem, MY FIRST GRADER SAYS SHE HAS A BOYFRIEND), the advice and comfort may need to come through that nice recorded voice from my iPhone.

An important note:  that podcast I was listening to was Laura Reagan’s Therapy Chat. Do check out this brilliant, vulnerable episode called Worthiness, Perfectionism, and Self Compassion when the moment is right for you.

Enough with the Tortured Entrepreneur. Love the Process.

The process is the cupcake, the outcome is the icing. #365StrongStories by writing coach Marisa Goudy“It doesn’t have to be easy. Isn’t it enough that it’s magic?” Ohhhhh, Liz Gilbert, thank you! Thank you for this and thank you for piercing through my crunch week mania and my cranky mama is on a deadline B.S.

I’ve talked about how putting the finishing touches on my new course - You, Your Stories, and your Audience - has been a total grind. If you saw my sleep starved eyes and my messy ponytail you’d understand that I wanted your sympathy. And fresh brewed coffee. And a time machine. And full time care for my children.

But I am done with that. I am embracing this as the creative process it is. I am showing up to fix one more slide presentation with gratitude rather than resentment.

Enough with the tortured entrepreneur. The business martyr is every bit as worn out and uninspiring as the "tortured artist."

[tweetthis] "Business martyr" is just as cliched and unhelpful as "tortured artist" #lovetheprocess[/tweetthis]

It’s time to recognize that this process is the reward - that gathering and honing of what I know and shaping it into something that is worthy and helpful and TRUE. When people take the course and start writing their own strong stories that better lives… that is just going to make an already powerful, beautiful act of creation into something that much sweeter.

Deep gratitude to Elizabeth Gilbert and to the podcaster who hosted her, the  wicked brilliant Rob Bell (no, he is not a man who says “wicked,” but if he was from Massachusetts rather than Michigan he would say it all the time and would be freaking adorable).

Listen to this one for the brilliance about the cake and the icing and this whole riff about the “transrational” that I am super excited to explore.

And try this one if you want to jump into Big Magic and get the context for the quote above.

Curious about what's in the new course? Get a sweet little taste in the content rich webinar, The Story Triangle, that goes live May 11!

Reserve your seat