Managing Crises with PAUSE

I have realized that you can tell a lot about a person by the way he or she reacts when a household appliance breaks down. Think back… I am sure you can remember an incident… the washing machine, the hot water tank, the dishwasher, the barbecue…

You may respond, “ But it’s NORMAL to fly off the handle, to curse, to blame your spouse, to throw things, to hit the wall, to stew for three days, to worry about the money, to be wary of appliances in general, to call the company to complain, to... .” You get the picture. You KNOW the picture. Perhaps you are speaking for yourself OR - as I have found myself doing many times in the past - speaking for someone else.

Perhaps it is “normal”. My question is this: Do you want to be normal if it drives up your blood pressure and/or drives your spouse out the door? Do you want to be normal if it creates so much tension in the house that you can cut it with a knife? Do you want to be normal if your partner has to walk on eggshells around you because he or she never knows how you will respond (or, rather, he or she KNOWS how you will respond and would prefer to avoid it!)? Who wants to be normal when normal does more damage than good? In the end, the appliance is still broken and, now your relationship may be, too.

I suggest you PAUSE. “Normal” has never led to greatness. Choose greatness! Embrace Your Potential!

To learn more about managing crises - household or otherwise - contact Lisa to find out about her fall offerings. http://www.embracingpotential.com

The Hardest Part of Love is Letting Go

Do you remember this song from the 80s? I do. But it’s not the kind of love I’m talking about… no, I’m writing a book about THAT kind of love… wait for it! Today, however, is about the love of a mother for her child, that double-edge sword of unconditional love. Why on earth would I call it that? Well, if your son was turning 12 like mine is today, I think you would know that answer.

I had never experienced anything like it before or since that moment, 6:08PM on August 4, 1998 when my son, Joel Anthony was born. There can never be words to describe the rush of love that comes from the heavens and envelops your soul and stays with you forever. That is a blessing for which I am grateful every day of my life. The difficult part of this is that children grow up… they become independent and no longer need you like they did when they were babies. Their independence changes everything. I am beginning to experience this and it is scary and a little sad.

If I get beyond the emotion (after I have my obligatory Joel’s-birthday-meltdown cry) I see that it’s really similar to other changes that I’ve survived – really, it’s about the changing role of parenting. It’s really about Letting Go. My duties and responsibilities are changing and, if I hold too tightly, things will probably get rough; if I try to go with the flow and adjust my responses in a more organic way, things may continue to be a smooth as they have been for the past 12 years.

I have no crystal ball and I really don’t know what I will be called upon to face as Mom to Joel Anthony but I do know one thing: I will forever be conscious of the gift I have been given and cherish every moment I have him in my life and because I love him, I will learn to let go (within reason, of course, because I am still his mother).