The first (and only) step to not needing to purge? Don’t binge. We binge on easy-come, easy-go; we binge on credit cards; we binge on rich foods; we binge on fast money or fast cars or fast (hot) sex.

Then follows the ubiquitous declarations of repentance and the abstinence-oriented cleanses–and when the cycle starts to repeat itself with alarming predictability, you know you’ve got both a pattern and a neurosis on your hands.

But let’s just go straight to brass tacks–if you’re ready to purge, you’re hopefully past repentance. You’re ready to take the structure down and build it back up.

Know What You’re Dealing With
Whether you’re purging clutter, empty relationships, or weight (and we’re definitely talking about purging that is of the “work out and eat better” variety, not the kind that qualifies you for a diagnosis), it’s good to know what you’re dealing with.

Because–what IS up with you that your office is such a mess that you can’t find anything and your husband is (only half-jokingly) threatening to call Hoarders on you? What IS going on with why you’ve surrounded yourself with Stepford Wives and can’t remember the last time that you had a meaningful conversation? Knowing where you’re starting from is important.

Also–have at least one (if not a few) really good, (purging) crying sessions if you’re releasing something particularly heavy.

Don’t Get Paralysis Analysis
At the same time–quit trying to figure out all the ins and outs of how the shit hit the fan. Start making choices in the right direction, and don’t futz around (for too long, anyway) with figuring out what the “right direction” is. Just start with the opposite of the one you were on, and course correct from there.

Maybe you’re going through a divorce; maybe your business is crashing and burning; maybe you are looking around at your life and don’t know who you are, anymore. Great. Now get going, even if “get going” means that you finally take up that meditation practice you’ve been meaning to start for aeons. It’s not about cramming your to-do lists so much as it is about making different choices–and making a lot of them.

Get Help
Rally the troops. Even if what you’re releasing is a cadre of unsatisfying relationships, you can always hire an ace coach or a hot-shit therapist, start attending support group meetings, workshops, reading more self-help (may I suggest something that’s a little lighter on the b.s. side of things?). Maybe you’ll pray or meditate, more (free, of course) to get through these tough times. Perhaps you’ll take up running or try to sweat out all the toxins (emotional and otherwise) at a Bikram studio. Whatever you do, call up your tribe, or create one of your own.

Release It
Don’t try to repurpose it, sell it, trade it, or store it until it goes up in value. Release it.

Have you ever seen an episode of Hoarders? I’ve caught a few. You’ll notice that the hoarder in question almost always says that they don’t want to throw something away because they were saving it for some express reason. Meanwhile, the rest of us can see that they’re never, ever going to find a use for those six cracked ceramic toilet seats sitting in their back yard.

The same principle applies to anything else that we need to let go of, in life. Just release it. Release the relationship. Release the job with the boss that screams at you. Release the paperwork. Release the attachment to an ideal that hasn’t been working for you for far longer than you’d like to admit. I don’t even like the idea of garage sales–just donate, get it out of the house.

Don’t try to repurpose, sell, trade, or store it in the hopes that things will change–just release.

Shit Fits are For Three Year Olds

Release–and release with class. Release with integrity for what that relationship held for you and what it taught you. Release with respect–for the environment (you’re recycling all of that paper, aren’t you?), for the people involved (even if you don’t like them, they’re human beings, you know), and for your future karma (what goes around…).

When it comes to things like releasing mental patterns or weight, take a moment to–of all things!–have some gratitude. Letting go of a tendency to lose your temper? Chances are good that that pattern served you well at some point, maybe helping you to survive a childhood. Honor that. Letting go of 200 pounds? Honor the weight–even the pattern that piled it on–because that, too, was a coping mechanism of some kind.

Create Something Better

Maybe it didn’t go the way you wanted it to, and you feel like life’s in the shitter–it’s all a wonky mess. Beautiful. Now you have ample information about how you don’t want it to be, and you’re in the driver’s seat for creating something better. You have endless tools at your disposal to do this (if you don’t see them now, start honing that kind of vision–when oft practiced, it does emerge more and more naturally).

How could you bless the situation, the person, the experience? Within the blessing, you’ll pave the way to an amplified new vision for how things can work out, next time. Nothing, short of death, is irreversible (and if you believe in reincarnation, even that involves some level of “I’ll getcha on the next go-around” negotiations).

When you release the old, you open up a wide expanse of space to let in what’s new–and this time, with more consciousness and stronger choices. Create something better, something that will make it easy in a few months or years to look back with friends and say, “Remember when it was so tough because…?” with an easy smile.

Perhaps you’re new to the online world–so let me introduce you to Chris Guillebeau, who’s known for writing The Art of Non-Conformity blog as well as a book by the same title. He’s the creator of the World Domination Summit, a contributor to The Courageous Living Guide,

–and most importantly, today at least, the author of a new book: The $100 Startup.

A few reasons why this interview is worth listening to:

1. 1.) Chris has built a massive social media following (as of this post, his twitter following is about to hit the 76,000 mark) and that’s because he delivers value–and in this interview, he talks about finding convergence between passion and value;
2. 2.) Feel like you’re marketing to “everyone”? Then listen up–the people who are interested in Chris don’t follow a traditional demographic–they come from all walks of life, which is why we need to talk psychographics, not just demographics;
3. 3.) He’s often referred to as the “gentleman of the internet,” and for good reason–he’s interested in doing business with integrity, and that makes all the difference in the world–which is something I allude to with this whole “great launches are like great sex” metaphor that had us laughing during this interview.

Grab your notebook and a pen and paper, and listen up–the information here is valuable. After that? Click here to learn more.

* I’ll be making a printable PDF of this available after May 15, 2012, for my e-letter subscribers.

1.) Start meditating–yes, daily. This is how you tap into that which is divine, within and without. People aren’t lying when they tell you that it works. Whether it’s sitting quietly and looking out a window or a zafu with incense and your hands in the proper mudra, make time for…Quiet. Silence. Stillness. Do whatever supports you getting present.

2.) Do the work; no excuses. Most people start trying to dismantle core issues while simultaneously feeling terrified that they exist at all. This makes really getting at the root more difficult. Examine your core issues until you’re no longer afraid that they exist (from there, feel free to start dismantling them). Do the work, no excuses. Doubly true for life coaches who want to powerfully support their clients.

3.) Quit assuming you’ve got it all figured out–or pretending to. This is a biggie, especially around the internet, where so many are trying to craft an online persona that positions them as an expert, leaving them painfully narrow choices around how they develop who they are.

4.) Ask for honest feedback. I’ve got a man who challenges me because he isn’t going to settle for anything less than he deserves. I trust my closest friends to not let me play life small. I ask them to be honest with me, to not spare my feelings, to please do me the honor of telling the the entire truth because that’s how I’ll get another inch of freedom. ASK for the feedback. Ask often.

5.) Speaking of asking? Listen. Listen to your entire life–and then don’t push back! Danielle LaPorte asks this great question: “What is repetitive or chronically inflamed in your life?” I know what my answer is to this question–it’s repetitive that people think I’m coming off with a harsher edge than I’m internally feeling or intending to show.

I used to fight against that, get defensive, try to convince people that the flaw was not in my presentation, but in their perception.

Now, it’s like–How fast can I apologize? I mean, jesus christmas–how many people would need to tell me that they see this exact thing before I’d stop putting it on them and take responsibility? (Apparently, quite a lot, because I didn’t start doing it with fully integrity until a few years ago.)

Listen to your life and what it’s telling you, to what your health is telling you, what people are telling you, your intuition is telling you, your stomach is telling you. Then–don’t push back. Don’t make someone wrong for their feedback. Don’t make your body wrong. Don’t eat that food again. Don’t subvert your intuition. Don’t make your inner critic the “problem” in your life. Listen. Don’t push back.

6.) Take 100% responsibility for absolutely everything that shows up in your life. Listen to your life, don’t push back, and then take responsibility. That person is pissed at you? Take responsibility for your part. Your body’s ill? Take responsibility for stress, sleep habits, eating habits, all of it that is within your conscious control (and look for the unconscious places, too). Inner critic running amok? Take responsibility–because I know that my inner critic only goes into overdrive when I haven’t been taking care of myself in some way.

Julie Daley shared something her teacher had taught her, recently: “If it’s showing up in your life, you’ve already said ‘yes’ to it.” When she said that, the truth of it went right through me. If it’s showing up in my life–it’s here, so accept it and deal with it.

7.) Embrace dichotomies. You’ll be happier the more you realize that everything that’s wonderful is also terrible, in some way, and vice-versa. When you prop someone up on a pedestal, they have no place to go but down. When you decide that a situation is bad, with no redeeming virtue, you leave no room for what might be good. If you don’t embrace life holistically, you’re setting yourself up for disappointment.

8.) Stop pretending that other people “can’t tell.” For crying out loud! I can tell when I’m being judged, when someone thinks I “should” or “shouldn’t” do something, or when someone is disconnected, emotionally. I’m not stupid. Neither are you–you can tell if I do this with you. How about we both stop doing this, and just get honest?

9.) Quit thinking anyone or anything “owes” you. We all deserve respect and love, and that’s about it. We’re all more likely to get it when we don’t demand it. “You owe me” is about the least sexy energy imaginable. Oh!–and–note that this energy is another one of those things that people “can tell” about you when you’re in it.

10.) Prioritize joy. In reality, the blog post you need to write, the business you’re trying to start, the deadline you need to meet, or even the friends you don’t have time for or the temper that you don’t bother to control because you’re “under stress”–none of that is as important as joy.

Every pithy thing you’ve ever read about prioritizing happiness, joy, self-care–it’s all true, every word, and the question is just when enough years of neglect will pile up and finally issue you their bill, payable now, no more extensions.

(Step One: Get. Off. The. Fucking. Computer. I say this with ferocious, devoted love for you and your well-being. )

A rich inner life is all that matters.

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My clients are intelligent, driven, leading-edge types who don’t settle, who thrive off of being asked tough questions that will utterly dismantle old belief systems that no longer serve their lives. If that sounds like your cup of tea, I’m opening up more sessions in June (right now I’m completely booked). Get on the list to get advance notice of available times.

Then there’s the camp that says there is no such thing as a mistake–that every experience in life is a learning opportunity, yadda yadda yadda.

In service to transparency–I tend to fall into the latter camp. Mistakes are learning experiences, and in the end, I have no regrets. I dig the gifts that have come from the “mistakes” I’ve made.

But let’s also be realistic–the choices we make have repercussions on our lives and the lives of others. It strikes me as a bit too smug, a tad too shiny and glib, to brightly proclaim, “Why, there’s no such thing as a mistake!” and leave it at that. Also worth noting? I do run into the occasional person who uses this to excuse themselves from having a conscience about their poor behavior.

Now, having said all that, you’ll know where I’m coming from: integrity all the way, owning your choices, including making the choice to learn from your “mistakes.”

Here are my top seven “Life Mistakes”–and what you can learn from them:

1.) Staying in any relationship past its expiration date. You know what I’m talking about–when everything in you senses that this is O-V-E-R, and the weeks (or, ahem, months) of girding your loins to end it are just time wasted trying to avoid the “breakup feelings” that you know you’re going to feel, anyway. Doubly true for the time I stayed with this guy.

2.) Keeping anything at all past its expiration date. Same logic as above, and I’ve done this more than once. For instance, I once dumped $1k into an old car that everyone, including my father, was telling me to get rid of. Did the car last? Of course not. Just as with relationships, you can’t resuscitate something that is dying–you can only keep putting time or money into it. Just recently, it was time to either invest money into tuning up my old car, or decide to get a new one. I called my father, who said, “Get a new one.” This time, I listened. Same goes for jeans that no longer fit, jobs that are underwhelming, or anything else that is not a match. Find a way to make it a match, and if you don’t, release it.

3.) Trying to work for myself without having enough money, experience, or collaborative networks–thinking “If you build it, they will come.” Note: What I learned from that experience was not that I should always have a plan, but rather–how to fail, and fail better, and fail better, until I wasn’t failing any longer. It’s a harder road, but it taught a shit-ton of self-sufficiency and really honed my tenacity for picking myself back up, not to mention it being behind the massive success of The Coaching Blueprint, which helps people to circumvent as many of those mistakes as possible.

4.) Repeating gossip about other people–even if it’s not a slam. I once repeated gossip I’d heard, not from the perspective of agreement, but from the perspective of, “Isn’t it shitty that so-and-so said such-and-such about our friend, Nice Person?” Somehow, it got back to Nice Person that Kate had been the one saying “such-and-such” when in fact I’d only been repeating the “such-and-such” and disagreeing with it. The fallout from that experience? Brutal. Many a coaching session went into dissecting that one, and particularly healing the wounds that came from being left out of the social circle. What did I learn from it? Tons.

5.) Not telling that “social web guru” what I really thought of her condescending attitude, and asking her to either make right or send me a refund. Lesson learned? Not speaking up in times like these will make you feel like a sucker. As Brene Brown says, “Choose discomfort over resentment.”

6.) Pulling an “I’m mad at you, so I’m not talking to you” with a few friends over the years. Apparently, the thirteen-year-old in me didn’t quite get over herself until I was in my latter twenties and decided to grow up and let people make their own choices without my judgment. Lesson learned? Self-righteousness is painful.

7.) Losing my temper in big, bad, scary ways–ways that are out of control and completely unfair, even abusive. What have I learned from that anger? A lot about how to work with it and have compassion for myself, as well as the humbling realization that all the self-help work in the world would not justify bad behavior. It’s also simultaneously vulnerable and powerful to own up to it.

Beyond making mistakes, I have more interest in the question of how we learn from them, how we course-correct, and what the mistakes contribute to our lives.

I can see how some of the mistakes on this list had more impact because they were repeated several times–we continue to make the same mistake, over and over, hoping that it’ll turn out differently the next time, that life will justify our old pattern rather than giving us the message that we need to take responsibility for our lives and be the stewards of change.

It’s worth evaluating your life and asking yourself–are there any places where I do that? Where I make the same choice, again and again, and it’s clearly not serving me?

Fear might be running the game at those times, but there’s always the big bold possibility of practicing courage. That’s how you see what’s on the other side of the mistake–by feeling stuck and pissed and sad and worried and alone, and choosing to walk through the fire, anyway.

P.S. I’ll be there, right beside you. Let’s be beautifully, imperfectly human–together.

I’m going to buck the trend, here, and be honest–I did everything wrong. Everything. From having a “build it, and they will come” mentality, to not having enough money saved up, to not knowing what in the world I was offering and trying to offer absolutely everything, to having no business experience and zero mentorship–I made every mistake in the book.

Six months later, savings account depleted and feeling duly chastened by the marketplace, I scurried back to full-time teaching.

By late 2009, however, I had recovered sufficiently enough that I felt something burgeoning and I knew that it was time–time to really practice courage and answer the call to take the sort of risks that I knew I believed in.

I had a few more things going for me, at this point. For one thing, I knew what social media was, and how to use it. I had a WordPress blog. As a coach, I was no longer trying to be all things for everyone. And finally, I knew that “if you build it, they will come” was not going to work–

I knew that I needed to hustle on as grand of a scale as I dreamed.

I still struggled throughout much of 2010–but the difference this time was that I was learning.

In essence, I created a learning laboratory of sorts. I tried things, they didn’t go well, I tried them again with slightly different incarnations. It was a huge time of experimentation, and heartache when things didn’t go well (because man, oh man, was I taking things really personally).

And Now

When I wrote The Coaching Blueprint for life coaches, I knew exactly who I was writing it for: the “me” that I was when I first became a life coach, not knowing what I was doing, feeling utterly overwhelmed by the information overload that was out there. All of the time trying to “figure it out” had nearly burned me out–and I didn’t want any other life coaches to have that experience.

This is also what I put into The Blueprint Circles for Life Coaches. The idea behind Coaching Blueprint Circles is that I work in an intensive, focused way with a small group of life coaches, to help them circumvent years of reading about things, and struggling to clarify things, and trying to establish marketing networks instead of doing it alone, and on– and on– and on–

–and instead, help 6 unique life coaches just get in there and GO, already.

Life coaches don’t to spend a few years trying to “figure this out” if there are people who have strategic ideas who can help.

When I tally everything up, I realize that it took me from late 2009 to early 2011 to really get a groove going–and I’m speaking as someone who doesn’t have kids, and who had time to really invest in hours of reading, researching–and the money to hire consultants.

The Blueprint Circles are for the life coach who doesn’t have all that time, or all of that money–it’s $225 for a month of business mentorship.

I sincerely believe that life coaches, and coaching, provides value–and that a lot of life coaches who are really talented and willing to be of service are getting lost in the bushes, or investing their time into cheesy marketing practices that make their practice look bad, or sometimes investing time and money into getting something going that they don’t even believe in–but that someone has said they “must” do in order to make money.

The first Blueprint Circle starts on Thursday, May 3rd.

There are only two spots remaining, and if you want one of them, you gotta get on this quick, because I’ll be doing pre-reviews of your site before we begin, and I won’t have time to do that if you haven’t signed up by end of day, May 1st.

If you find that you want to join, but now’s just not the right time, head here to get on the mailing list–you’ll be first in line to be notified when a new Blueprint Circle for life coaches is opening.

Courage, revolution, and getting fully behind your practice are only part of the deal–there’s also strategy, feedback, and collaboration, and it’s here for you. If you don’t create this for yourself with a Blueprint Circle, do yourself a favor and find other ways of creating and integrating these pieces–because the world needs your gifts.

“Just who the hell do you think you are?”

The inner critic, feeling insecure and nervous and afraid, will dish that up, often at unexpected moments, moments when I’m rolling along and think that I’m rocking out, doing my thing, and then someone arches their eyebrow in a certain way and I’m wondering what that was about.

It’s the hell of the intuitive, empathic type–our intuition and empathy allows us to look a brother or sister in the eye and know within seconds that all is not well and our friend is holding back pain between clenched teeth, but on the flip-side, I swear we sense the judgment of others, faster, too.

But the thing is–I’ve been learning to really like asking this question.

Say that I write a blog post. It’s kind of ballsy, kind of out there. “Who the hell do you think you are, to say that?” says the inner critic.

Then, interestingly, more and more with each passing year–

–I want to come up with an answer. I’m quite curious. I turn the question over, in my mind.

“Yes, good question. Exactly who the hell do I think I am?”

There are some interesting answers.

Ballsy, brash, tells-it-like-it-is.

Insecure, not up to the task, feeling flat-lined.

Transparent, bold, courageous.

Sometimes the inner critic isn’t so thrilled that I’m playing that game.

“Who are you to think that you have any right?” the critic persists. “And what’s the point, anyway? Why do you think that whatever you write is any different than what anyone else is saying? You’re generic; mediocre. Why bother?”

Oooh, another good question: “What’s the point, anyway? Why bother?”

Ringing like an echo: Why bother? Why bother? Why bother?

Do we ever stop to realize that rather than scurrying away from that question with fear, it’s actually a really good question to ask ourselves from time to time?

Why bother? Because the words run through my fingers to keypad to screen from some place that’s beyond day-to-day thought.

Why bother? Because I’m committed, and they wouldn’t call it “commitment” if there weren’t days, weeks, even months where one had to slog through.

Why bother? Because I’m willing to be someone’s light today, starting with being my own.

Who do you think you are? Why bother? What do you really have to say, anyway?

Even if you answer “nothing, no reason, nothing” to those three questions, there’s an interesting jumping off point there, as well–because when you don’t have a lot of pre-conceived ideas about who and what you are, you also don’t have any boxes to try to get out of.

The slate is clean. The canvas is blank.

It might even be that the reason asking this question is so difficult for you is NOT because “Oh dear god, I don’t know who I am!” but rather–

–the definitions can be stifling, and your spirit knows it.

So who the hell are you? And why should you bother?

Honestly, who the hell knows?

But I, for one, am having a helluva a good time with what I’ve already discovered, and with what remains to be found out. It gets me a lot farther than the angst.

Try that on for size, sometime, and see if it fits.

Boundaries are about love–this is something to take care not to overlook, especially for those people who know that their version of boundaries has been to put up an ice wall tough enough to withstand global warming. The conversation about boundaries often circles around either being overly-boundaried or under-boundaried, with nary a point in between (i.e., you’re either a raving cold bitch or a complete pushover–both two-dimensional images that are routinely used as female archetypes in the media).

But boundaries are about love–expressing love for all parties involved. Clarifying and then holding to your own boundaries is about love of self and love of being in relationship with others.

Boundaries & Values
In many ways, this concept of “boundaries” could really be interchanged with talking about “values.” How do we define, and then live, and then hold on to, our personal values in this diverse world? And–how do we do that, while not treading all over someone else’s values?

And on top of that, how do we allow time and experience to change us, so that we can have a flowing experience of life, rather than one where we say “These are my values (boundaries) and that’s it! I will not bend them! I will not break them! This is who I am!“

–Because I don’t know about you, but I’d like to be open to the possibility that values (boundaries) can shift and change with wisdom and experience, or that I will discover deeper levels of values (boundaries) within me, or that I will decide that certain things are not really values (boundaries) and will be able to release them, rather than clinging to them.

One (common!) reaction to the complex questions that come up is to be come value-less (or boundary-less)–to become like a sponge, soaking up the values of whomever is around. Brene Brown calls this the difference between “fitting in” and “belonging.” We can “fit in” with whatever group is around us, but “belonging” is about being who we are (maintaining our own values/boundaries) and simultaneously staying connected.

This is not solely the territory of the prototypical “people-pleaser.” The people who yell the loudest are often the ones who are most afraid to express what’s truly in their hearts.

So, in essence: the idea here is that when boundaries are properly in place, they create love. They create safety. They create permission for everyone to show up as they truly are, with belonging rather than shape-shifting their values/boundaries to “fit in.”

Boundaries, Simplified
So, given that:

• the questions are sort of complex, and–
• we’re talking about a shifting terrain (what works for you during one decade of your life might be unworkable during another), and–
• the goal is to have boundaries that, paradoxically, create connection…

…what unifies that?

Well, people, I can’t say what “the” answer is for everyone. I can share that this question has worked pretty beautifully in my life:

In this piece, I talked about three examples: people at work deciding to have the experience of you as arrogant; your in-laws choosing to have the experience of judgment with you; people at a party choosing to have the experience of you as socially awkward.

“What would love do?”

If we were asking this question in the workplace, love would be interested in open-hearted conversations with employees who were seen as arrogant. Love would reciprocate by being open to the feedback, seeing where common ground could be found.

If we were asking this question with in-laws, love would be interested in expressing needs and wants rather than judgements. Love would reciprocate by being open to hearing requests, not making people wrong for making requests, and seeing where common ground could be found.

If we were asking this question with bad jokes made at parties, love would be not be interested in condemnation of the person who made the bad joke. Love would reciprocate by making amends as necessary, and dropping self-condemnation, in the interests of seeing where new, jovial, party-like common ground could be found.

I guess what I’m really getting at is…
…that when we choose to create our lives in service to love, it’s not some high-flying, mushy-gushy, fruity-tooty, New Age, purple-light, Barney the dinosaur, happy-happy joy-joy, bullshit.

It’s just not.

Love is courageous. Love requires power, and speaking your truth, and asking the hard questions, and making mistakes and being willing to own that and come back to center. Love is open to the possibility of miracles–any time, any where, and under any circumstances, even those that seem most unlikely.

The word “boundaries” can conjure up images of a fortress, of blocking, of isolation, of separation.

That might be the image, but only the individual will choose to experience them in that way.

Personally, I’d like to choose something else for myself, and perhaps you want to, as well: I want to choose my experience of everything through the lens of love, and all of the courage and power and truth and everything else that that entails.

That’s what I work on, every day. How I use my boundaries is just another expression of that. How about you?

What he meant was that when someone in front of me was spinning, venting, angry, taking their shit out on me, the most loving thing to do was to:

• a.) stay present, and
• b.) not attack back, and
• c.) lovingly protect myself by mentally putting on my “teflon” (more formally known as Polytetrafluoroethylene, of course–say that ten times fast!) and letting their words slide right off of me.

That is to say–no stick.

It reminded me of when I was a child and my younger sister and I would get into fights. We’d go to our mother, wanting her to settle it. She told us to be like ducks, letting the water roll right off our backs.

“But she–!” one of us would protest, only to be met with our mother chanting,

“Be a duck, be a duck, be a duck!”

It was infuriating at the time, of course, but this is now one of my fondest and funniest childhood memories–my mother chanting at us, refusing to play referee. I fully intend to pull that out of my bag o’ parenting tricks, someday.

And then that reminds me of the year I spent going to Al-Anon meetings.

Al-Anona is the (immensely powerful!) 12-step group for friends and family members of alcoholics. Many people start attending Al-Anon thinking they’ll learn something about how to stop someone else from using or abusing alcohol. After a few meetings, though, the message is clear–it’s not about controlling someone else’s behavior.

It’s about coping with their behavior–about not letting their behavior “stick.”

Be a Duck…Dammit

Recently, I had an experience where I was bullied, “Mean Girls” style.

I shit you not.

The details aren’t even important–it was a situation that left me with a bad taste in my mouth, and a sadness that a few people were choosing an experience of me that I know is so different than the friendship, support, and loyalty that I wanted to offer.

I spent a good 24-hours debating about what to do, turning the events over in my head–then I was irritated at myself for even giving the situation that much power.

Putting on the teflon

Because God/spirit/The Universe has been granted an open invitation to hang out in my life, of course–of course!–the very day I had this conflicted encounter, I had tweeted,

“I’ll commit to seeing that if you show up unkindly, it’s not who you really are.”

Of course I had done that–of course.

So I was steamed about this experience, running my Stories, all of that. I talked to people in my tribe, checking in.

–then I thought about what I’d tweeted, and that eventually had me thinking about teflon, ducks, and 12-step groups.

Particularly, I thought about Al-Anon, and how many a-ha moments I’d witnessed.

Shares sounded something like this: “He had been drinking, and he started his same routine, telling me what a fuck up I was. But then I realized–it wasn’t him talking, it was the alcohol talking. I could differentiate between who he really was, and how he acted when he drank.”

In those a-ha moments, that person was putting up their psychological teflon. They were witnessing, not attacking back, and simply letting it roll away–like water rolling off of a duck’s back.

No stick.

Everyone’s Under The Influence

The thing is, everyone’s under the influence of something.

Bad parenting. A health problem. A fight with their best friend. No sleep. Pregnancy scares. A drug habit. Workaholism. Jealousy and envy. TV coma. An essential lack of connection to oneself, to meaning, to fulfillment. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear.

If everyone’s under the influence of something, then perhaps we would do ourselves a favor by taking the detached view–taking their fear masquerading as bitchiness about as seriously as we would take someone who was falling down drunk and spewing expletives.

I find that point of view a bit easier to digest than “just don’t take it personally.” I can see clearly that when some drunk dude on the street calls me a name, he’s just drunk, and thus, suffering. I don’t like the behavior, but it’s easier to get over it, not to mention have a little compassion along the way.

It’s harder when our friends, family members, co-workers, or the people you’d least expect it from–people planning to go into a counseling-related profession, for instance–but still helpful. After all, other people get to choose their experience of me.

The truth is, we don’t know what anyone else is under the influence of. We couldn’t possibly know.

I can only know that everyone is under the influence of something, because everyone has their areas where they’re stunted, myself included (of course).

In these situations, I know I am committed to: the belief that if you show up unkindly, it’s not who you really are.

We don’t really need more answers than that.

“Boundaries are like drawing a line in the sand and saying, ‘Beyond here I will not go and you cannot come.’ ” –Iyanla VanZant

Here’s a revolutionary thought: other people get to choose the experience they have of you.

• Not, “Let me try to be better so that they’ll like me.”
• Not, “I’ll do my best to be a good person so that no one ever thinks I’m a bad person.”
• Not, “If someone thinks I’ve done something wrong, I’d better go to them, find out what I did, and profusely apologize.”

Nope–Other people get to choose the experience they have of you.

This is not to say that working on shifting habits that don’t work for you, living your personal vision of integrity, or apologies are wrong.

This is saying, as Mary Oliver writes in her poem Wild Geese, “You do not have to be good.You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.”

You do not have to lash yourself with a whip to work it all out so that other people will be happy with you, endlessly evaluating what you “might have done to upset them,” filing away behaviors into a mental card catalog of do’s and dont’s. All you can be responsible for is your intention and attention. Apologize and make amends as necessary. Move on.

For Example

You’re choosing your experience of me, right now.

This blog post is either a New Agey, self-helpy rant by a bitchy, wannabe guru (all accusations that have been lodged at me, though not all at once, thankfully), or I’m someone who’s truth-telling, attempting to be of service, and ferociously committed to believing that you matter and deserve to live a good life (other interpretations of this blog and my writing that I’ve been offered).

Either way, you’re choosing.

I really have no part in your experience, actually. I’m just over here, doing my thing. The interpretations are 100% yours.

The same philosophy applies whether you’re dealing with conflict at work, feeling the strain of judgmental in-laws, or you’ve just made a joke at a party and realized it was a complete faux-pas.

Other people are choosing their experience of you.

Conflict at work: They choose whether they see you as a team player or an arrogant control freak. Only you can really know whether or not you’re being a team player–and your integrity matters, so I hope you’re being honest.

Judgmental in-laws: They choose whether or not to judge what you do and say. Only you can really know whether you desire to get along with them, or not, and whether your actions are intended to achieve that aim–and your integrity matters, so I hope you’re being honest.

The faux-pas: They choose whether to see you as a human being who made a mistake, or not. Only you can really know whether you intended to offend–and your integrity matters, so I hope you’re being honest with yourself.

If you want, you can dance in a top hat and spin more top hats on canes, putting on quite a show for people.

In the end? There are still going to be people who are going to say that you suck.

Why? Because people are going to do what they are going to do, and we can’t control other people’s behaviors or interpretations.

Meet me on the Flip Side

You’re also choosing your experience of other people.

If your co-workers accuse you of not being a team player, if your mother-in-law monitors every move you make, if you make a joke and people don’t like you for it–you get to choose an experience of them as “bad” people–or you get to choose something else.

A few options to consider: Perhaps they are…people who have a limited perspective that might change if they had a fuller picture? People who need a heart-to-heart with you? People who just need to be left alone with their opinions of you, because life is short and sometimes, it’s okay to just let people not like you if that’s what they want to do? People who are in choice around forgiveness? People who don’t have the tools to use open communication because they’ve never been taught? People who are dealing with untold stress that you don’t know about, and they’re not acting the way they’d normally act, otherwise?

No Cast-Offs

Choosing powerfully is not about self-righteousness. Setting boundaries is not about rigidity. I’m not suggesting that anyone sticks their nose in the air and says, “Fine, they just get to think what they think, I’m so much better, I choose more powerfully than they do!”

It’s not a retaliatory flipping of the bird to compensate for a lifetime of hoping that if you just do it right, you’ll be liked.

This is about having boundaries–drawing a line in the sand and saying, “Beyond here I will not go” (I won’t be beating myself any longer to hope to meet your approval, nor will I avoid taking responsibility for my own integrity), and “beyond here you cannot come” (I won’t take on your stuff–you get to choose the experience you want to have of me–nor will I avoid taking responsibility for my own integrity).

Either way, you’re taking responsibility for your own integrity, in whatever way the situation calls for it. Having boundaries is about saying, “I will take responsibility for choosing the experience I have of you, and let you go ahead and choose the experience you have of me.”

It’s boundaries, baby–boundaries. Guess who’s in charge of those? Guess who gets freed up when she lets go?

You got it–you.

* * *
Two powerful circles–and they’re both nearly full! Click to learn more.

• A student enters my class with some serious, or repetitive, grammatical issues.
• Whatever the issue was, I’d encourage them to work on it. As budget cuts grew worse, I’d procure and then loan out my own grammar books. I’d stay late to talk to the student. I’d meet with them outside of office hours.
• I’d let the student know that really–if we’re being technical–their issues with grammar needed a semester in an intensive grammar class before proceeding with ours.
• “I know, I know–my grammar is bad,” the students would say. “I’m working on it. But don’t drop me. I want to be in this class.”
• So, okay, fine. I never wanted to discourage anyone. I’d remind the student that they were not to get help from another person–you can’t have someone copy-edit your papers for you, in an English class where the skill being developed is the ability to write and edit your own work–and we’d move on.
• Paper #1 comes and goes. The grade is not a passing grade. We have another conversation. “I know, I know, my grammar is bad…” They still admit they have issues, and I’m not (yet) the enemy.
• Paper #2 comes and goes. The grade is, again, not great. Uh-oh.

The pattern played out predictably. It was (usually) only a matter of time before:

the student would go from admitting that they had issues with grammar, to suddenly attacking me. I was the unfair one; I was the enemy. Even if I could point out 20+ grammatical issues just in the first paragraph alone, I was the bitch who was so mean and awful and unfair.

The first few times this happened, it would eat me up–I was devastated that I’d tried so hard to help, and hadn’t succeeded. I’d mentally review all that I’d done to try and help, and then the NEXT time this situation would present itself, I’d work EXTRA hard to make SURE that the student knew that –while I would not pass sub-par work–I was committed to helping.

One semester, I did this for a group of 3-4 students who had somehow made it to the college’s most advanced English class with serious issues (e.g., “She write about feminist article.”)

We had a night class that ended pretty late. I’d stay even later to help, getting home at 11:30, almost midnight–all unpaid time–even though I had an early morning class to teach the next day.

They were still failing their papers. The issues with grammar were far too intense to possibly remedy in one semester.

Guess what happened that semester? When that group realized they weren’t going to pass, they went to my department chair and said that I discriminated against students who spoke English as their second language.

It was infuriating. I had stayed late all those nights! Didn’t they “get” that I wasn’t paid for those hours? I had loaned my own books. I had found and photocopied extra handouts. On their papers, I had spent more time noting grammatical errors, so that they’d know exactly what to focus on.

What’s more–until they were “officially” failing the class, they had AGREED with me that their grammatical abilities were sub-par.

Were they kidding me?

And then–finally, I “got it.”

When the Pain Sets In

The thing is, when the pain sets in, most people will do almost anything to “get it off of” themselves. Almost no one grows up with adults who model taking responsibility for their own lives.

Also? Denial rules in this culture. There’s the denial that there’s a problem in the first place, and then there’s the denial that taking any different steps (i.e., dropping my class and taking a more appropriate class, which would be both humbling and inconvenient) would be a better option.

Most people’s thinking–whether we’re talking about improving grammar or showing up powerfully in a relationship or anything else–tends to be, “I’m sure that if I just keep trying hard doing this thing I’m doing, if I just work hard enough, things will go my way.”

What was that that AA says about the definition of insanity? Oh, yes–it’s doing the same thing over and over, and expecting a different result.

We all do it. I do it. You do it. It’s just what we do, until we don’t.

Irritating and Liberating

So…now what? Just let the students get pissed at me, over and over?

Uh, pretty much.

There arrived a certain point where I just had to accept that people are going to do what they’re going to do, and see what they’re going to see, and act how they’re going to act, and sometimes, they’re going to do that EVEN IF I try really, really hard to not get them to do it, whether by being supportive or tip-toeing around or not speaking the truth…or anything else.

At first, that thought seems irritating. Sometimes, especially after that particularly difficult semester, I’d think, “It’s not even my responsibility to help students with grammar, beyond the basics in the course outline. If I’m just going to have complaints lodged, why bother?”

But then–if you really turn it over–it’s liberating to release, to simply have acceptance.

People just get to do what they’re going to do. I (you) don’t need to try so hard to keep them from doing whatever they’re just going to do, anyway.

I have no control–none, whatsoever. People take things personally. People deny what’s right in front of their faces. That’s not my responsibility.

What is my responsibility? My personal integrity–the kind of integrity that drove me to stay late and go the extra mile because that’s what the situation called for. I know what these students are up against, and they’ve had a shitty education so far, and the three teachers before me passed them instead of really helping those students, and I don’t need to pass the buck, like those teachers did.

Is it fun, to stay late? To watch students shift from admitting they have a problem, to making me the problem?

No. But if they’re going to do that, that’s just what they’re going to do. In the meantime, I need to do what I know is the right thing, and as a professor, that has meant digging deep and continuing to go above and beyond my formal job description.

I can only be in charge of me. You can only be in charge of you.

It Comes To This

You can’t control anyone else’s behavior. We are under the illusion that we can, that if we say and do the right things someone else will follow along–but we can’t.

So what’s integrity, for YOU? Not for them–for you? If you’re taking total responsibility for your life, what’s that look like?

I get it–the compulsion to note where someone else is wrong, is strong, especially when you know that even an objective observer would say that you’d done your best and that the other party was wrong.

It’s just an illusion that focusing attention over there is going to get you anywhere. When we aren’t busy monitoring someone else’s behavior, deciding how they “should have” acted, a hell of a lot of energy gets freed up.

So–irritating or liberating? What will you choose?