Great Expectations (or not)

Here we are.

This is not a throw away sentence. It’s perhaps the most profound reminder we’ve got.

We will never ever experience the present moment ever again. It’s gone in a heartbeat and yet is the only sure thing we ever really touch—presence, being, the here and now.

If you’re like me, presence becomes harder and harder to fully grasp in seasons of waiting and anticipation. At nearly eight months pregnant, I’m struggling to stay in the moment and soak up these final days of life as a non-parent (read: sleep).

I’ve always felt summer can be a bit like the Holidays as it kicks up a whole host of unique demands and expectations, leaving me often anxious if not resentful. It’s tempting to compare my life to others I see magically splattered all over social media cavorting around far away places by fake looking bodies of water with glamorous wardrobes to boot. Hell, I haven’t even gotten in a pool all year long and feel more like a weary beached whale than an energetic summer explorer.

Where do these expectations even come from? My hunch is, they come from the stories we make up in our heads. Ah, those glorious narratives of certainty, guarantees, entitlement, essentially—suffering.

Last week we unpacked this idea that pain is inevitable while suffering is optional.

Why? Because suffering is the story we make up about our pain. “I should have a better job that lets me travel more.” “I should have a partner that enjoys doing the same things I do.” “I shouldn’t have to work so hard. After all, it’s summer and I deserve to relax and enjoy my time.”

Whereas these may be true, I don’t know how much progress we make changing our reality by playing the victim. In fact, there are no guarantees in this life. That said, keeping unrealistic expectations flush in our back pocket is a fast way to prevent abundance in our everyday experience.

As an Enneagram type four, I often struggle with this pervasive longing for what’s missing in the moment. For example, “Ah, the sunset is beautiful, but I wish it were a bit cooler so I could really enjoy it more.” I know. Gross.

This dangerous habit creates a crusty resentment which in turn drives away joy.

Because the struggle is so real for me, I created a little Expectation Inventory to keep me in check a few years back. I’ve come to wholeheartedly believe the pivotal moment in every unrealistic expectation is simple: gratitude. It tethers us in the here and now. It gently leads us back home to presence. Gratitude changes everything in an instant.

Today, I’m sharing my inventory with you. Keep it close and use like guard rails when you start to slip into resentment. Maybe, like me, they will keep you on track and reminded of what you do have as opposed to what you lack.

Expectation Inventory:

1. How do I feel right now?

2. What unrealistic expectations am I feeding into?

3. What is the payoff for having these expectations of myself or others?

4. What would it feel like if I were able to let go of these?

5. What do I need in order to let these expectations go?

6. What am I grateful for?

Enjoy…truly!

Love & Gratitude,
Katie

Leaning into Loss: 3 Lessons on Grief

You may not realize it, but life either has, or will, make you something of a hope vendor. Loss is all around us. It makes up at least 50% of life. At times, you’ve worn the hat of grief counselor for friends, family, and co-workers. I want to share some insight I’ve gained that might shine a light on these often immobilizing and confusing stretches.

A couple of years ago, I attended an all-day workshop led by David Kessler, self-help author and grief guru. He is most well known for his groundbreaking work with Elisabeth Kubler Ross, a Swiss-American psychiatrist who pioneered what we know as hospice care as well as the Kubler-Ross model, or the five stages of grief (denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance).

Despite Kessler’s expertise in death and grieving, he is hilarious. He cracked jokes throughout the entire day, poking fun at himself and taking some light-hearted stabs at the afterlife. I found this profound in light of his work’s focus.

Here are three key insights to remember about grief and the grieving process:

We Grieve in Character

Have you ever known someone who is super level-headed, maybe even annoyingly practical and even-keel, experience a major loss and recover with seamless resilience? Perhaps to the point you even asked them, “Are you sure you're okay? You don’t even seem like this phased you!”

Unless there is a small chance (less than 15%) they’re experiencing delayed grief, he/she is grieving in character, meaning— the way we normally do life is the way we also grieve.

As an Enneagram four, I grieve in all colors of the rainbow; with intensity and every shade of emotion. Hell, my feelings even have feelings, so this emotional intensity checks out in light of my baseline character.

Suffering is Optional

Pain is inevitable; suffering is optional.

Pain and loss are an integral part of life. Suffering, however, is the story we make up about our pain. For example, “This shouldn’t be happening to me” or “It wasn’t supposed to end this way.” We quickly forget how much a part of life loss is as the proverbial record gets stuck on that screeching note of overwhelming shock and awe.

The upside is we have complete power over whether we suffer long-term or not. When we suffer, we live in our heads and attach to narratives of futile embellishments… "why me?”

Resilience shines not when we deny our pain, but as we courageously “lean into the suck” as Sheryl Sandberg cleverly puts it in her latest book Option B. Loss is painful, and the quickest way to the other side is through it, not around it.

Fixing Doesn’t Work

There is no rational way to fix traumatic loss just like there is no way of scientifically explaining romantic love. It just is.

Grief must be witnessed, not explained.

When I try to relate to someone in their grief by offering up a “me too,” what I’m doing is making it about me, not actively listening. In doing so, I cheapen their felt experience. Don’t worry, grief will inevitably run its complex and necessary course. We don’t have to, nor can we ever simply fix it. A hug, an open ear, and a shoulder to cry on will work far better.

From my own experience, I’m reminded how isolation wreaks havoc on the grieving soul. I'm not saying we need to extrovert-up and throw ourselves into social chaos. However, knowing we’ve got a few safe people who will witness our grief is vital. We’re not meant to go this road alone.

As I write this, I’m cringing on the inside. It’s so pat…so formulaic. The grieving process is far from math. It’s ghastly. It feels like death. It’s bigger than space and time and breaks us in a way that feels violent—wrong.

So how do we intentionally bring awareness to this part of life, even when what we currently experience feels light and joyful? It’s a combination of two things: we stop to give thanks a lot more for the things we have that bring life, laughter, and meaning. We also explore in conversation the reality of loss, not to focus on the negative, but mindfully acknowledge the fragility of it all. These two go hand in hand.

If you or someone you know is alone in their grief, know that there are options. Please reach out if your grief needs a witness. It won’t stop the pain, but it might ease the suffering.

Love & gratitude,

Katie

The Enneagram and what's right with you.

I turned forty last Monday. Surprisingly, it was painless, even…lovely!? I’ve been joking around with people who ask how it feels in saying, “It’s glorious. I feel like my age is finally catching up with my soul.” As an old soul since the womb, this really does feel accurate. I’ve always felt a kinship with those older than me. As a kid, I used to hang out for strangely long stretches at the dinner table to listen to conversation my parents would have with their dinner guests. They seemed far more interesting than the make-believe dialog happening in the playroom (although I did love to go there alone in my spare time). But if given the choice to linger at the adult table or play with barbies amongst the other youngsters, 11 times out of 10 I’d choose the first.

This balances out nicely when you’re a bit older and have the freedom to hang with whomever you choose, but in grade school and adolescence, it’s brutal. I perpetually felt misunderstood, alone, and longing for something deeper.

Enter Enneagram.

When I first discovered the Enneagram 13 years ago, I felt a massive wave of relief wash over me, explaining answers to angry questions I’d been asking God for a long time. Why did I do the things I did? How could I learn to make peace with the complex and often terrorizing crew of emotions always up loud? Could anyone explain the inadequacy and longing raging deep inside?

When I read about the character structure for the Enneagram type four, or Individualist, I quickly discovered the foreign language I’d been speaking all along was not what was wrong with me, but what was right with me. In fact, there were others who spoke this language and an entire road map dedicated to us who felt all the same feelings and needed all the same help. I wasn’t, in fact, underdressed and a day late to the ball. (God forbid ever showing up underdressed to a party. My Mama taught me better.)

The Enneagram has been so life-changing, I’ve spent over a decade immersed in self-study and formal training in order to better resource others who might also gain more self-awareness and transformation in their lives. I do take it seriously, and in doing so, have dedicated myself to being a lifelong student. After all, it’s no buzzy trend. It’s been around since the fourth century and is here to stay. I’m no expert, but have recently stepped into the roles of coach and teacher which are beyond thrilling for me.

As I enter this new season of life, I want to invite you to join me. We’ll be talking a bit more about Enneagram concepts here on the blog as well as in therapy and out in the community.

In just a few weeks, I’ll be introducing a monthly Enneagram opportunity for you as well as a free resource I’ve created for you on your unique journey.

I believe the Enneagram is much more than a personality test. It’s an open-ended invitation to the truest version of you. Now that’s a party I don’t want to miss.

It’s also a gentle and wise companion for your everyday experience.

Trust is built over time and baked in safety. We’ve come a long way together. I can’t wait to write this next chapter of the story together.

Love & Gratitude,

Katie

Extreme much? Here's another way...

I remember sitting in my therapist’s office several years ago (probably twelve).  Gail was her name and she’s everything a brilliant therapist is in my mind: accepting, compassionate, wise, firm, seasoned by her own broken story, and the kind of listener that makes you feel like you’re the only soul on the planet. 

I was in the chapter of my life I refer to as the “falling” stage.  Everything around me seemed to be crumbling and my job was to let it do so against every ounce of my will.  She held the sacred space for that painful season to unfold.  At every break, she simply wanted to better understand me, not try to fix me.  Gail saw me.

Have you ever been in that frustrating place where the best and safest thing to do is NOT break the fall?  I’ve often heard this with surfing and skydiving, for example (two pastimes I have zero experience with). In my understanding, there are actual ways we must learn to fall—to lean into the plummet. 

Resisting with tension, grit, and that secret stash of Xanax bars you snaked from your mama’s medicine cabinet aren’t included.

Gail patiently taught me how to fall, over time.  Something she said to me one day, in the vortex of my despair was, “Katie, it doesn’t have to look a certain way.  You get to choose.” 

Those words stuck with me perhaps more than anything else she ever said.  Funny how that works isn’t it?  We usually remember much more poignantly how people make us feel, not necessarily what they say.  However, these are some of the few words still glued on.

Much of my struggle was existing in a world of extremes—all-or-nothing thinking—you know,  “either-or.”  Either I would be alone and depressed my whole life with little hope for anything or I’d be Miss Perfect: married with kids, a clear cut path forward, an enviable career, oh, and liked by all.

Looking back, I’m so grateful that zipped up idea of success stayed just that, an idea.  

Falling for me meant moving from this dualistic, binary brand of extremes and living into the open relief that life, in fact, didn’t have to look a certain way.  It could be the messy middle, or, the “both-and.” 

I could feel striking depression and understand that hope was available.  I could feel lonely, longing for relationship and community and know that it very well may look different in several weeks time.  I could long for certainty and lean into the unknown.  Richard Rohr calls it “holding creative tensions.” 

Holding the tension between a longing and its unmet fulfillment is indeed a creative, tight space.  It looks a whole lot like faith.

Does your extreme thinking feel exhausting?  Do you find yourself awfulizing situations by projecting worst-case scenarios onto perfectly neutral possibilities? If so, I feel you. It’s a relentless crapshoot. 

I believe that old way of “either-or” is how we learned as kids to make sense of the world growing up.  However, as adults that rigid mindset needs some revising.  What if we could practice a softer, more curious approach? 

Next time you get stuck in either-or thinking, simply notice it, honor it, and let it be.  Then ask yourself what you’re needing in the moment.  Is it hope, acceptance, a friend, time, or provision? 

Find the space in that very moment that allows for the lack as well as the possibility.  “I’m overwhelmed with deadlines, and, I know there is light at the end of the tunnel.” Or “I’m so angry with my friend and how she’s treating me, and, she may be really struggling right now.”  

Let’s lean into the contemplative, creative space that invites more possibility, yes?    

Love & Gratitude,
Katie

Ritual - The Secret Sauce for Success

I remember watching the Grammy’s on TV one year.  Gosh, it must have been over a decade ago. I’d always had this magical view of artists who’d “made it” and somehow found themselves on stage at the Staples Center performing at music’s biggest night.  That year, for whatever reason, this delusional veil lifted as I realized these superstars weren’t born overnight—they worked their asses off to get there.  

I think it was an interview I read with John Mayer, who won Best Pop Vocal Album for Continuum that year.  He described basically locking himself up with his guitar for an entire year in order to master the instrument and craft that gave him entry into such grand rooms throughout his impressive career.  

His charge to aspiring musicians was simple: practice and then practice some more. Become so good they can’t ignore you.

As a follow up to last week’s blog post, Why Therapy hasn’t Worked for You, I want to explore the power of ritual, or practice, as a way to tangibly see the desired outcomes you’ve dreamed of for awhile now.  

Just like physical fitness, creative mastery, financial success, and other goals you’ve set your sight on, emotionally thriving takes practice.  We don’t show up to the gym twice a month and expect to see dramatic results.  There are several variables to consider: diet, metabolism, sleep, hydration, mindset, and most of all, consistency.  

So why do we expect to show up to therapy a couple times a month and see transformation take place?  Not to be a buzz kill, but we simply won’t.  If we want results, sure, talking about what’s not working is a good place to start.  Yet we must also start practicing a new way of living in order to experience a new way of being.  

Again, the operative word here being “practice.”  

I like to use the word ritual because it’s prettier and has this spiritual sheen to it.  In many spiritual traditions, rituals are used to create order and accentuate the sacred nature of that which is worshiped.  

Not to get too woo woo, but we are in fact soulful creatures with unique callings to inhabit while here on the planet.  That said, I believe we must treat each day as sacred, intentionally creating structure and reminders around the things that help us thrive.  

The first step in personal transformation is simple: wake up!  We must consciously show up each day in our lives and challenge the sleepy trance of forgetfulness.  After all, we make really bad decisions when we forget the truth of who we are.   

I want to support you as you create rituals in your daily experience that will help you unearth your deepest desires.  However first, you must know where you’re going. 

I’ll leave you with this simple question as a navigation tool: what do you want?  

That’s your ticket, my friend.  The answer to this question determines where you spend your precious time and energy.  It also gives you a prescription for what and how to practice.

So go dream—big and wild.  Give your fear a well-deserved day off.  You can have her back tomorrow.  For now though, sky’s the limit.

Love & Gratitude,

Katie