I believe growth happens between words and actions. That there is a golden space that connects meaning between the lines of our individual story – both our external story and the one that plays in our head – and how we show up in the world. As a preacher’s kid I associate this golden space with faith. A spiritual link that makes us whole. Not just whole individually but whole as a community.
Continue reading “Welcome to Golden Acorns”2025 Leadership Intention to Help Authentically
Several years ago, my federal client closed out each year with an email to her entire 30,000-person team, plus consultants. This was not a typical “thanks for your hard work this year, go enjoy family for a few days, and come back ready to work hard in the new year” message – for which I was grateful. Her email was immensely personal and bold as she recounted the status of her annual leadership intention.
As this leader wrote her email, she did not apply a filter on her year-long endeavor to live into a focused, intentional way of showing up in the world. She shared the missteps and missed opportunities, along with the joys, lessons learned, and mysteries of her experiences trying to embody her leadership intention—and did so in detail. The close of her email would be to share her leadership intention for the new year.
To me, her email embodied bold accountability rarely seen in modern leaders…. and inspired me and I began the practice of a leadership intention.
Set an Intention
Over the past years, my intentions were helpful, forgotten, motivating, haphazard, or often based on “shoulda’s” – set in the moment or as a reaction rather than with, well, intention. I wanted more (better) for myself this year, so I used the Leadership Intention Workbook created by Kristen Lisanti, and joined her and other Radiant Leaders in her 1.5 hour “retreat” to think about, process, and draft an intention.
In honor of the one who inspired me, I’ll share that for 2025, as a leader, my intention is to “help authentically.”
I chose this leadership intention – or perhaps it chose me – due to joy. Specifically, the joy I felt when I was my best as a leader as indicated by ease, creativity, fun, growth, and outcomes generated in community with others… that my teammates told me occurred for them too. I wanted to have more of this “vibe” and impact not just in my formal roles as a leader, but in all aspects of my life. Upon reflection and with input from others at the retreat, I realized that when I centered on helping in an authentic way – making it about the person/people in that moment rather than the task – that honest conversations emerged, barriers dissipated, ideas bubbled up, more felt possible. And most of all, everyone felt more empowered, so outcomes seemed to more easily occur. I also want to show up authentically to help others do the same.
Intentional Words
Because I love words, I explored “authentically” and “authentic” before I settled on my intention, and here are phrases that Google provided:
- Being genuine
- True to yourself and your values – aligned to your core self
- Faithfulness
- Self-aware
- Open minded
- Shows vulnerability
- Brave and takes risks
- Living in the moment with conviction and confidence
- Puts others around them at ease
- Courage to love with a rigorous inside-out consistency
So, here’s to my year to practice “help authentically” as a leader. A year to learn. A year to fail. A year to adjust. A year to grow. A year to play. A year to discover.
Cheerleading, feedback, and patience will all be appreciated.
December 2024 Quote: “Go Easy, My Love – Go Easy”
As I set up my calendar for the month, I select a quote I’ve found that speaks to me. I write it in my planner and leave space below it to capture phrases I hear or read that speak to me and relate to the quote. I found this practice centers me throughout the month, and helps me be more present in my conversations, meetings, and readings. For December 2024, the quote that centered me was “go easy, my love – go easy.”
I found this quote in a poem by John Roedel, and knew it was the advice, reminder, and mantra I would need throughout December. Not just to balance against the added Christmas activities and expectations, but for more personal reasons. This would be my first Christmas without Dad, and the last of the “firsts.” This quote gave me permission to move with ease in the tender moments of the holiday season and be with my heart not my head of “must do’s.”
Here are quotes, lyrics, and phrases that that caught my attention during the month…
- Habits of the heart
- Claim time with the holy
- Prayer does not fit us for the greater work, prayer is the greater work
- Rest allows us to do what matters most
- Grief that remains with us until we pass is just unexpressed love because we never have enough time
- The glorious impossible
- God sadly has given you the experience to hold them through this painful time
- Welcome to the dream space
- We are divine
- Our spirit knows better
- There is space for the unknown
- The light resides inside the darkness
- You’re locating yourself
- Will you trust in your divinity enough?
- Reclaim rest as holy
- So, if you are too tired to speak, sit next to me for I, too, am fluent in silence
- When you can’t look at the bright side, I’ll sit with you in the dark
- Who are the sharpeners of your vision?
- You can just be
Go
The quote showed up differently for me throughout the month. It began more of a command, “go easy!” as I struggled to decorate—as each decoration put me in the setting of dad’s final days last year, and a time of year he cherished most. A complex contradiction of lights, smells, and embodied memories in every Christmas decoration. It morphed into permission to walk away from some traditions, “my love, go easy.” It was a balm when my emotions continued to bubble up – a reminder to be with them rather than push through them, “easy, my love.”
Easy
The quote also inspired me to step off the glittery holiday carousel and really sit with my shit. I didn’t want to wallow, but there was too much to feel. So, I listened. “Love, go.” And I went to my first “Longest Night” service at Westminster Presbyterian Church. Held on the Winter Solstice, the day with the most darkness, the contemplative candlelight service provided space to be in community as we each individually connected with our loss and acknowledged it. Scripture, meditation, and music. The simple service did not eliminate our pain or try to whitewash it away with good news. It simply gave space – acceptance – that hurt and hope, loss and love, were part of living with heart. That we see and feel the light because of the darkness that is there. Each one makes the other seen and felt.
The service closed with silence. Each person centered on their heart’s emotions. Then if compelled to, they rose to light a candle as they prayed silently for light in their – or their loved ones – darkness.
Each person invited to remain in the tiny white chapel as long as they needed, in the warm glow of the sacred light we generated in prayer. I was the last one there. Alone in the scared stillness, snot-nosed, and held by divine grace.
My love
The tears fell. Poured. In what was clearly a needed release. My unexpressed love and unprocessed loss bottled up, now fully released. “My love, go.”
Alone, I walked to the back of the chapel. There I found the brass plaque with Dad’s name and life dates on the columbarium wall. I laid my hand on it, spoke to him, and prayed for many in my life—those who buoyed me this past year and those who need support now too.
As I turned and stood in the doorway to the chapel, it was then that I noticed just how much light our individual prayers of comfort and hope generated.
Go easy.
My love.
Go easy.
The Tears, The Visitor, and The Golden Threads in Grief
Grief has been an odd companion this year. It’s morphed within me month over month.
What began as drowning, shifted.
What became erratic, evolved.
What became a shadow, loosened.
What became a constant hum, faded.
What came in November was a backlash.
The Tears
Ten months of my emotional evolution in mourning landed me back in grief’s grip. Back with vengeance were the at-ready tears.
This time however, I met grief more equipped. I knew it. I accepted it. I let it be… to run its course a bit, me just along for the ride.
It wasn’t that I was more sad or felt bad. Perhaps it was my body’s way of processing my next level of emotions. An excavation of the deeper unknowns in my heart, and tears were pockets of lost love that needed release for the wound to heal more thoroughly.
So, constantly throughout my fall and early winter days, I just let the tears fall.
No questions. No withholding. No stopping (as if I could).
They just fell now and then throughout each day – almost like a dusting of snow; gone before you realized their presence – a light cleansing.
As Christmas closed in, I knew the pain the tears sought to wash away… or soften the sting. Dad was Christmas. In so many ways he embraced the full magic of the season—from the Jesus to Santa, the nativity to the angel on our Christmas tree, he delighted in it all.
- I listened to every single Christmas Eve sermon he delivered in my life.
- I drove through a massive ice storm watching car after car after car slide off the interstate so I could hear him read a story to the young children on Christmas Eve, often from “Angeles and Other Strangers.”
- I would hold my breath at the end of each Christmas Eve service waiting in anticipation for him to shout with full delight: Merry Christmas!
- I would watch him package up a gift for mom in an unusual way, from nesting boxes for a tiny item to a house-wide scavenger hunt.
- I would wait and see which package bow he would remove and wear on his head Christmas day.
- After retirement, between mom and I in the pew, I would savor how he sang “Joy to the World” doing the echo bass refrain against mom’s soprano voice … “and wonders of his love—and wonders of his love” as his body bounced to the tune; the tune we closed his committal service with.
And like has happened throughout my grief journey moments arose between the tears. Moments, no, golden threads to him emerged that stitched through my heart like internal scaffolding. Strengthening fibers of nostalgia as I lived forward. December’s thread pulled me in through grief on Friday.
The Visitor
On Friday afternoon, I noticed the songbird sound of my Uber driver’s voice. “You have such a beautiful accent. Where are you from?” I laughed internal as I remembered Dad would always ask others about their accent – curiosity leading to connection. “Ethiopia.” We talked a bit about the wonkiness of the English language and then she shared, “I came here to have my son. It was a 17-hour flight. After I got here, he had problems–his lungs weren’t developing, and they did a c-section at 34 weeks.” (Note, full-term is 40 weeks.) “Oh my, is he OK?” “Yes, he’s well now but the bills are a lot.” “Do you have friends or family here?” “No, I’m totally alone. Just me and him. But I wanted a child for so long, IVF. It’s OK. We go back to Ethiopia in a month or so.”
A single mother.
An unknown country.
An unexpected child.
A faith of gratitude.
I could just about hear dad’s voice from the pulpit share this story in his Christmas Eve service and smiled.
She stopped on my street and parked for me to get out.
A golden thread tugged at my heart. I thought once more of Dad – one to give freely to those in need, especially at Christmas. I leaned forward in the car… handed her the $100 bill Dad taught me to keep in my wallet for emergencies… and with all my George Oehler delight said, “Merry Christmas!”
The Stories from a Room of Beth Duttons
I’ve media trained three-star generals, triple board-certified physicians, federal executives, and severely wounded enlisted combat veterans for appearances on 60 Minutes; The Today Show; Wall Street Journal; and various trade publications and local newscasts. But the room I walked into mid-November as a keynote speaker on “The Story of Your Business” made me the most nervous.
To try to balance my nerves, I armored up: comfy consultant black attire, bedazzled rhinestone-covered penny loafers, matte red lipstick, Chanel #5, and new speckled readers… and a lot of deep breathes.
In I walked to face 70 powerhouse women. As I later joked to workshop participants, it was a room full of Beth Duttons… and I better have my content tight and my game on.
The women, from all over the United States, owned and ran ranches and farms – entrepreneurs whose products relied on the most fickle of women to succeed, Mother Nature. They attended the National Farmers Union’s conference to learn and share in an effort to make a hard but rewarding business better.
My goal was to help them understand, define, and share their story effectively – from visuals to voice – to more easily break through the clutter of content and reach the hearts and heads of customers, business leaders, and legislators. Simply put, to communicate more intentionally to accomplish their business goals.
Between my slides and anecdotes, the participants learned about and practiced:
- Mindfulness to clarify your story
- Brain science behind visuals and content consumption
- The data of communications … the challenge to break through the information clutter
- Message development frameworks
- Use of your body and voice (with a side of improv)
- Media relations
- 3 types of introductions
Storytelling
One woman business owner shared her story of firsts which included the first in her family in the U.S., that she first grew something in the window box of her apartment, the first to move to Minnesota, and first to own a farm. Talk about bold! Another woman shared she wrangles elementary school kids by day and on the side owns a ranch of miniature cows—about 36” tall. These cuddly cute cows offer comfort in therapy sessions to children and adults alike. Another female farmer spoke of her business, Wild Horse Lavendar, which I could practically smell as she spoke. Her worn leather square-toed boots, Stetson, and jeans spoke volumes to me – grounded, tenacious, and full of spunk.
Over the course of two hours, these women shared parts of their story. The ever present threat of weather. The bone-tired state of “being” as most had two jobs plus a family. The business and marketing challenges. Their compelling business goals. Additionally, we shared a side chat about my favorite cow – the Belted Galloway, or Oreo cow. Their stories showed these women ranchers and farmers were compelling, boisterous, thoughtful, hardworking, supportive, creative, and dedicated business owners. Simply put, impressive and inspiring.
This time in conversation with these ranchers and farmers – sharing knowledge and experiences – reminded me of the power of storytelling. Stories bring the unknown to life… build connections with others quickly… bring compassion into the equation… and bolster what is possible. But most importantly, it gave me greater respect for what’s on my plate and what it took to get there.
What’s your story?
November 2024 Quote: “Stay Fully Wild, Star Child”
As I set up my calendar for the month, I select a quote I’ve found that speaks to me. I write it in my planner and leave space below it to capture phrases I hear or read that speak to me and relate to the quote. I found this practice centers me throughout the month, and helps me be more present in my conversations, meetings, and readings. For September 2024, the quote that centered me was “stay fully wild, star child.”
November is many things. The unofficial start of the holiday season. A month centered on gratitude and decadent food. But for me, it’s mom’s birthday month. For those who don’t know her she is a 5’2” red-headed force for good. A preacher’s wife who hugs everyone, dances as the mood strikes, dishes out delicious southern food, lives as a faithful Presbyterian, enjoys adventures, has a competitive streak, is quick to laugh, and is surrogate mom to many. And, she embodies my quote this month.
Here are quotes, lyrics, and phrases that that caught my attention during the month…
- What is the work your soul must have?
- Stillness is another door into the temple
- Taste your words before you spit them out
- Silence is a massage for the soul
- Don’t ever believe we are thinking machines who have feelings – we are feeling machines who on occasion think
- You pick who disturbs you
- Love loud and shine bright
- Grieve the past and the present, but don’t grieve the future—we’re not there yet
- You threw dirt on me and flowers grew; I’d be mad too
- Worrying is like worshiping the problem
- Time is available to live in
- Silence is a symphony of truth
- I go in search of a great perhaps
- Scapitude: a combination of scappiness and fire in the belly that gets shit done
- Beautiful means “most self”
- Evermore
Respite Adventures…
In the weeks after my father death from Alzheimer’s, mom and I stood side by side in the kitchen and erased his upcoming appointments from the family calendar. The months suddenly looked overwhelmingly open. What remained was the standing Thursday calendar block for respite, when she’d take Dad to a wonderful half-day program for fellowship, and she had a break. In the moment, I offered, “Let’s keep respite on the calendar so we focus on fun.” She quickly agreed with a sparkle in her Carolina blue eyes.
For four months, our respite adventures together were weekly as I stayed with her as we both shifted from the loss of her sun and my moon. As I merged back into life and work, we connected each month for joint respite. For those not familiar with respite, it’s defined as, “a short period of rest or relief from something difficult or unpleasant.” For full-time caregivers it’s essential, and I’ve come to believe critical to everyone as we move through the complexities of life.
For 10 months, Mom and I have respited in a variety wild of ways – big and small. We ate (all the biscuits), drank (an Old Fashion everywhere we respite), played, laughed, and cried with each adventure. Indoor skydiving, lunar moments (beach sunrise, solar eclipse watching), star gazing, Cheerwine festival, fried local oysters, shoe shopping, flamingo feeding, artistic painting, pedicures, movies, Swan Lake ballet, the oldest saloon in Texas, her first Uber (a Tesla with rainbow interior lights), our first Airbnb, fondue, Van Gough immersive experience, climbing Pilot Mountain, and plenty of ice cream – just to name a few of our respite adventures.
These adventures soothed my soul and generated incredible memories. But the best part is to be in mom’s presence, fully wild as a star child. She remains curious, eager to learn. She literally stops and smells all the flowers and communes with the birds – my own Snow White. She is truly with people she meets – open, sincere, supportive – friend and stranger alike. Simply put, she lives with her heart.
And…
Our respite adventures have not been all joy-filled as grief now resides in our bones. But with a focus on rejuvenation, we learned to live together in a space of “and.” Laughter and tears. Delight of new memories and ache from old ones. Action and stillness. Anticipation and sadness. Moving forward and looking back.
And, the understanding that love exists in it all.
A Walk with Grief and Wonder
I walked to yoga early this morning. My path is down King Street — a long historic area lined with shops.
In the darkness I noticed the city hung little white lights in the trees that line the brick sidewalk for 1 mile. The lights brought to heart my dad … a life long Santa Elf, eternally age 6 at Christmas time—a true believer and filled with wonder.
He would love this.
Tears fell. Ten months into grief after the death of my dad, I’m now use to their spontaneity and just let them flow.
Sadness swirled. Lights twinkled. Tears fell. I walked on.
Two blocks later I looked over and saw this new display. My heart fluttered with wonder. I walked up close and inspected it with a dorky kid smile on my face reflected in the window glass. I walked on.
As I neared the yoga studio I looked up with light in the sky and cotton candy pink clouds. The smile on my face moved to my heart.
Hey dad.
October 2024 Quote: “Affirm the Sacredness of Mundane Things”
As I set up my calendar for the month, I select a quote I’ve found that speaks to me. I write it in my planner and leave space below it to capture phrases I hear or read that speak to me and relate to the quote. I found this practice centers me throughout the month, and helps me be more present in my conversations, meetings, and readings. For September 2024, the quote that centered me was “affirm the sacredness of mundane things.”
I find it a bit hard to affirm the mundane when it’s your birthday month – a time for celebration with loved ones of who know the nooks and crannies of who I am and how I got to be the current version of myself. But upon reflection, I realized birthdays really are the celebration of the mundane. All the average, simple thoughts and decisions got me to this point. The mundane supported me during the eventful moments and big decisions. It’s the mundane that built the strong foundation from which I could jump to greater things or rest and recover safely.
Here are quotes, lyrics, and phrases that that caught my attention during the month…
- Is the space sacred because God is there or because we are there seeking God?
- She who believes in hope can accomplish miracles
- Aging is not lost youth, but a new stage of opportunity and strength
- Power is the ability to pursue purpose
- A leadership laboratory
- Listening is so close to love most people can’t tell the difference
- I come into the peace of wild things
- You are everything that is
- In courage one sees the brilliant triumph of the soul over the flesh
- Pay close attention to the adventures before you
- All your experiences are soaked in magic
- Never take for granted all that radiates in you – you were born to blaze
- Emancipate the imagination
- We are the photosynthesis of grace and wonder
- When life becomes deliberate pitter-patter of wonderment
- It’s the reminder to live now; to be bold; to be electric
- The border that exists between temporary dust and everlasting spirit
- You were formed out of an ancient whisper to become a natural wonder
- Radical hospitality
- Strengthen what remains
- Be the walking piece of rainbow shag carpet
My birthday sat differently this year. In past years I filled it with activities and my favorite people – a gift to myself to be with those who fill my heart with joy. This year more solitude felt right. I slowed down, settled into each moment, and just was. I replaced the doing of my birth with presence in the day… absorbing.
I took in the mundane and seemed to find more magic in each moment. The soft breeze that stirred the leaves, as if to awaken them to their color change. The balm of a hug extended for just a few seconds longer. The connection that occurs when you cook with a loved one – nourishment for the heart. How much better life feels when you share concerns, normally activated by late-night gremlins, with a friend in the daytime. That sitting around an open fire converts strangers to friends. The realization that deep laughter generates pixie dust that infects those around you in the best way. The soothing sway to a favorite song that culminates in an all-out kitchen dance at lunch time. That knowing you have disco ball shoes on that sparkle in the sun makes you walk with more effervescence. The nightly “I love you” text ritual with mom that settles me for sleep.
This year, stillness – presence – was my greatest gift. Rather than an electrifying month of events, I felt time slow down. I got to see, sense, and soak up so much more from each moment.
I was more alive … and isn’t that what our birthday is really all about?
September 2024 Quote: “Give it a try,” whispered the heart.
As I set up my calendar for the month, I select a quote I’ve found that speaks to me. I write it in my planner and leave space below it to capture phrases I hear or read that speak to me and relate to the quote. I found this practice centers me throughout the month, and helps me be more present in my conversations, meetings, and readings. For September 2024, the quote that centered me was: “Give it a try,” whispered the heart.
I still consider September the start of my year. Perhaps it’s due to the conditioning of “back to school” – a new season to learn… or because I’m a “fall baby” and sense this is my time to reflect and renew. Regardless of the reason, I treat fall like a sacred time. A preparation for what is to come. It’s like fall is nature’s way of saying, “wake the fuck up!” through the air’s crispness and the vivid colors before a restorative winter cuddled up. There is an energy I feel as the wind arises in autumn or maybe it’s more of a targeted whisper, “Get ready. Get clear on what you need. Gather acorns that will nourish you as you rest, regain, and restart in the spring.”
Here are quotes, lyrics, and phrases that that caught my attention during the month…
- Cosmic consequences of everyday occurrences
- This rushing mercy
- Affirm the sacredness of mundane things
- That’s the debt you must pay for taking the risk to love somebody else; You are sending your heart to heaven one bit at a time
- Education is not the filling of a pot, but the lighting of a fire
- Don’t race through your heartache because you might miss a miracle or two
- You are the disco comet from deep space
- You are the only thinker in your brain
- Accept that it may be changed, even remade, through the power of the Spirit
- If you think you are to small to be effective, you have never been in bed with a mosquito
- Play to learn
- You are the art
- I’m not going to miss a beautiful day because the day before hurt
- It doesn’t enhance sacredness, but it acknowledges it, and there is power in that
- The reader is the co-creator of the written word
- It is good to love many things, for there in lies true strength, and who soever loves much performs much, and can accomplish much, and what is done in love is well done
- I don’t know anything with certainty, but seeing the stars makes me dream
- You were lit long ago to never be put out
I tried to listen to the whispers in September and set into motion my spring’s bounty.
History
First, I explored my history. I tackled our storage unit which began as an organizing activity and became an emotional exploration. Five hours later, I not only had a car full of items to donate and treasures to mail to loved ones, but a heart full of gratitude. Each box extended my roots causing a renewed mix of groundedness, connection, and confidence. Pictures, keepsakes, and hand-me-downs took me on a journey back to myself. To the love which made me and the God-given spark and spunk that resides in me.
Home
Next, I adjusted my workspace at home. I write at an antique secretary. This piece, once housed in my Dad’s study at church, was a gift from a member. Beside it, I placed a re-upholstered prayer bench from France that he and my mom picked out together years ago. In September I add images around the prayer bench … first the four Oehler boys (dad, his two brothers James and John, and bonus brother Leland Park from their fraternity at Davidson College) – now all deceased… next an angel made by a local artist at Sunset Beach, NC… finally, the stole mom cross-stitched by hand for dad which he wore at weddings, Christmas, and special services. This gave me a place to be in peace and comfort as the gray winter days creep forward.
Self
Finally, I looked inward. I joined Momentum, a 12-week mindful leadership program. I took time to build new habits through practices that help me excavate my head, heart, and gut – and choose rather than simply react. To push back against the brain’s survival stance of negativity bias and get intentional about what is grown and nurtured inside of myself. So far I practiced RAIN, Loving Kindness meditation, and SCARF model. Each one like a hard workout… awkward to start, sore after, but easier with time – all to help me emerge better.
I tried each one – history, home, and self. Each try required a try again, and again, and again. All with the recuring theme “pause and prepare.” To try to pause with my head, heart, and gut. To try to think, feel, and decide what to keep, reframe, toss, and embrace. To try to prepare to be a more intentional me.
And my heart feels better for it.
3 Mentorship Tips to Improve “Generational Leadership”
Recently, it’s been a bit like an episode of “this is your life” – leadership edition. Folks from various stages of my career seemed to pop up unexpectedly and in the process of our chat they referenced something they do in their leadership role now because of our work together. While at times it’s awkward for me to take the compliment of how I influenced someone’s career journey, it’s also intriguing what stuck with folks… from the trusty notebook for client notes and quality control neurosis (aka proofreading/formatting) to facilitation approaches and recognition programs (Brussel Sprout award… and associated necklace!), and everything in between.
I get so excited to learn how they forged their own type of leadership.
These conversations led me to realize mentorship impacts generational leadership. The good and bad that formed me was passed on to others.
Just like generational trauma, “occurs through biological, environmental, psychological, and social means” – leadership is formed much the same way: leadership norms based on historical gender roles (biological), a firm’s culture (environment), DEIA/psychological safety/belonging (psychological), and the “requirements” to look or sound like a traditional leader (social means). Generational leadership is both the good that is transmitted and the bad that is absorbed or conformed to as the norm.
Here are three ways you can get more intentional about your personal or organization’s generational leadership.
Endorse Individuality
There are thousands of books that will try to convince you that leadership is done Mandalorian style, “this is THE way.” A single model or expectation of leadership breads weakness or vulnerability in the workplace ecosystem. It would be like the U.S. Department of Defense only having an Army… rather than a force that works in land, sea, and space. Show your team that leadership comes in all forms: quiet, effervescent, big picture, black suit, calm, colorful tennis shoes, remote, tearful, young, technical. Review the impact your leadership programs and promotion cases have on generational leadership.
Mentorship Program
Mentorship maintains or breaks the cycle of generational leadership. A training, book, podcast, or HR framework are the bricks of leadership development with opinions, case studies, and metrics. Mentorship on the other hand, gives you the color commentary – or mortar between the bricks – to make personalized choices about how to apply the information. Review your mentorship program… How does it measure success? How are mentors recruited, vetted, trained, evaluated, and removed? Who uses the mentorship program and how homogenous are they? How do you encourage staff who are not familiar with a mentor to take the risk with one? How do you incentivize participation? If you cannot offer one internally, do you have a vetted list of mentor programs that are free or have costs covered by the firm? Do you have “reverse mentors” – newer professionals to mentor seasoned ones?
Your Choice
Executives, get serious about your leadership team and the impact they have on generations of workers and future leaders. “High performers” who hit the financial metric but leave a trail of trauma and bad habits should not be tolerated or promoted but rather given a measurable performance improvement plan. Professionals – leaders of all ages and stages – take a hard look at your leadership legacy and current environment, then determine what you need to break or build your own leadership health. Collect mentors… at one point in my career I had a full house of mentors—one to understand client business, promotion/career mobility, consulting, and my specialty. Can’t find one in your office, look to your community programs (e.g., church, volunteer work, sports) or find a mentorship program. Get intentional about how you want to invest in generations of leaders … this is your legacy to build.
Finally, to the dynamic leaders I watched, worked with, and learned from along my own leadership journey. I am grateful for how you…
- Taught me accounts payable and receivable and how to use my left hand on the massive calculator so I could write down calculations with my right (yes, before excel!)
- Had Stephen Covey’s 4 quadrants of time management on her office white board for all to see to remain focused on what mattered most
- Incentivized my attention to detail with my first spa pedicure
- Showed me feedback and annual reviews could be both constructive and fun (not to mention the reward of movie day!)
- Planned the next team social the day before the current one to be sure our team took play seriously
- Demonstrated compassion with thoughtful words and tokens of care during life’s inevitable heartbreaks
- Took me aside for a candid “put your big girl pants on” talk about office politics
- Gave away opportunities you could have kept for yourself
- Held me accountable
- Showed me the value of having folks sit in a circle at an offsite
- Leaned hard of me to improve and grow while also advocating for me with others – client and co-worker – so I continued to grow with new experiences
- Made yourself available to listen, just listen
- Celebrated the wins, big and small … hello “happy dance” in a cube farm in the basement of the Army Human Resourced Command HQ
I am grateful for how my generational leaders balanced business and heart, let me see behind the curtain through vulnerable conversations, looked beyond the metrics to see the person, and instilled a habit of mentorship I work hard to carry on.
August 2024 Quote: Absorb the Grace and Glory of the World
As I set up my calendar for the month, I select a quote I’ve found that speaks to me. I write it in my planner and leave space below it to capture phrases I hear or read that speak to me and relate to the quote. I found this practice centers me throughout the month, and helps me be more present in my conversations, meetings, and readings. For August 2024, the quote that centered me was: Absorb the grace and glory of the world.
This quote seemed fitting for the month when so many are on vacation, me included. And, I would be in two majestic places in the month where there would be plenty to absorb. A beach island for two weeks – one with my family and one with my hubby’s. Then the mountains of North Carolina for a writer’s conference with poet John Roedel at the Art of Living Retreat Center.
Here are quotes, lyrics, and phrases that that caught my attention during the month… of which most were captured when writers read their work on the last day of the 30-person conference:
- You are your own birdsong
- Go down the rabbit hole of wonder
- Listen to the wind…pay attention to the patterns
- When is the last time you heard your authentic voice?
- More joy, less head trash
- You’re going to be my favorite memory
- I have made my home in the bend of a question mark
- We are but a whisper; but oh, what a chorus
- Share your gooey nugget center for others to chew on
- Sorrow, sister of joy
- But someday you will be the one who ignites the blaze in another person’s heart that won’t ever be put out again
- There is no such thing as an ordinary life
- A moonbeam winked at you
- Fitting in is for sardines
- Damn the gatekeepers
- Your words grew feathers and floated off each night between the bars
- Gentle wishes for one another
- Sharing yourself is an act of service
- You don’t need to be perfect, you just need to be gentle – with others and yourself
- A blank page is an empty universe you get to create
- You are here to be a lamplighter that hands out little bits of your flame to ensure the rest of the world doesn’t exist in darkness
- Lost in the weeds of your heart
- I want bees to rest on my crown
- Good morning new perspective, I haven’t met you yet
- An unsettling quiet, even with all the elephants in the room
- You were created to make us gasp
- Your heart creates a park bench where you and others can meet
- We’re all just beads on a prayer bracelet
- The first bird of the day to be brave and break the silence
As the month started, I sat behind a car with the license plate MO FUNNER that seemed to confirm my choice of quote and I absorbed the vibe for the month.
At the beach I absorbed how nature seemed to externalize my internal as it was our first family beach vacation without dad. You see hurricane Debby slowly moved over our week. Each day a circulating pattern of rainbands, pressure drops of stillness, sun breakthroughs, 40+ mph wind gusts, and vivid warm pink sunsets. My body echoing Mother Nature’s emotions, or she mine: tense, calm, sad, peaceful, tears, wound up, happy, hurt, laughter. All a swirl like the vanilla/chocolate soft serve ice cream, a family tradition at the beach. But as the storm settled, what my body absorbed and felt was gratitude. Our family was together in a sacred space with decades of memories of love to cherish and build on.
Later in August I cruised down I-81 over the rolling hills of the Shenandoah Valley in Virginia behind the license plate FUN AW8S. I absorbed a favorite – and sacred – activity of mine: the road trip. Open road, good weather, snack bag, singing to the sky with my sunroof open, savoring the journey, and not concerned about the destination. Freedom. As the hills grew taller, the distance between my ears and shoulders grew as well… my body unwinding.
I stopped on my trip to give two cases of prosecco to Mary Baldwin University’s new President to help him recognize staff and faculty’s “golden moments” as they work to step into the “next” of the school’s ever-changing legacy of liberal arts education. Much like Superman soaking the sun’s rays to regain his power, I stood on the campus hilltop where I graduated when it was an all-women’s college and absorbed potential. Again, my body shifted, softened. My corporate work edges, personal expectations, and mental exhaustion absorbed by the earth beneath my feet.
By month’s end, I found myself standing under the universe in the black of night as countless stars winked at me. There was no absorbing, it was consumption. The Universe absorbed me… a melting, perhaps a thawing, as my deep sighs, concerns, big fat slow rolling tears, appreciation, awe, and all the mortar that shored up my internal wall of worries dissipated.
Spent. Weightless. Open. Relieved.
I stood.
Absorbed in the grace and glory of it all.