Last week I had the honor of attending my great aunt’s surprise 90th birthday party. The good news was that she handled the surprise like a 30-year-old and the even better news was that we had a beautiful afternoon connecting with family from all over the country.

For the past several years now, I’ve leveraged these family gatherings as a way to gather nuggets of wisdom from my older, more experienced family members. Three years ago, I recall asking my then 87-year-old aunt, "What’s the secret to a lasting marriage?" She took a beat, and with deadpan face she laid it on me.

"Tolerance."

And there you have it. I’m still unpacking the meaning within this answer that was left to all of our respective interpretations.

Towards the end of the party, my two daughters were milling about with family members they rarely see. One of our older cousins was weaving his woes about his new iPhone and the features he was struggling to figure out. My 11-year-old, Jane, jumped in with an explanation and a solve. Note that she doesn’t even have her own phone yet. Relieved and content, our cousin was about to move on when my girl jumped in with, "Is there anything else you want to know?"

She asked to use my phone as a "sample" and she sat down with her student to walk him through the ways of 2019 technology with patience and a smile. It was one of my favorite moments of the day. The image of them laughing and connecting; of Jane’s hunger to teach and our cousin’s openness to learn from a rising 6th grader.

In that moment, I was reminded:

We are all students and we are all teachers.

This is important for me to remember as both a parent and in my work with clients at all stages in their careers.

As a parent, I’m the one who lays down the rules and structure for my kids, but when I’m being my best self, I’m open to learning the lessons they have to teach me—even when they get in the way of moving from point A to point B at the desired time. I never realized how many different kinds of birds we could see on the walk from our apartment to camp!

In my work with senior leaders in organizations, we tease out frustrations with younger generations to home in on what we can learn from junior employees. We note how sometimes our frustrations can draw targets around our blind spots, shine a light on what we’re resisting and be the very thing we need to learn.

As with my approach to growth in leadership and humanity, awareness and mindset are the keys to inviting wisdom to show up anywhere and everywhere. If you cultivate a growth mindset—knowing that you don’t need to be right, you don’t know it all, nor do you need to—you can be open to unlikely teachers who can share another perspective with you. And in return, those who step up to be teachers can build confidence in knowing they have something of value to share that will touch your life in some small way or transform you—if you let it.

Many of my clients decide they want to leave corporate life.

They dream of driving their careers on their own terms.

They want to dictate their own schedules.

Choose their clients and collaborators.

But they fear making this move for a few main reasons…

1. The hustle
   The constant selling, of sounding fake or putting yourself out there. All. The. Time. And the possibility that you may be bad at it. Talk about a one-two punch.

2. Loneliness
   Losing the camaraderie and energizing social interaction that’s baked into a corporate gig where you’re all focused on a common goal.

3. Infrastructure
   It’s all on you: the scheduling, the invoicing, the customer service, the marketing, the IT support—on top of the doing the actual thing you left your corporate job to do.

If you’ve already drawn definitive conclusions that these variables are not something you can figure out, you absolutely should stick with your corporate gig or find another one that’s better suited to you. There’s no reason to make a move to the solopreneur/freelance world only to continue to prove yourself wrong. Some self-awareness and self-acceptance goes a long way in making this choice.

On the other hand, if this is something you feel you’re meant to do—you’ve done the math as to how to make it possible and you’re open to being uncomfortable and making mistakes in the name of progress—I got you.

Here are a few ways to address each of these fears head on so you can create the career and the business that’s calling you:

1. The hustle
   When you’re selling something you believe with all your heart, something you’re proud to offer—I can tell you firsthand—it doesn’t feel like selling. That said, I recommend that anyone who doesn’t feel comfortable about their sales and marketing skills get some support. Choose a few books you will commit to reading from this list of 50 incredible books. Read anything Seth Godin including his blog. Know that sales need not be a skill you’re born with, but rather a muscle you can build. You’ll learn that when you pour over Carol Dweck’s Mindset. If you can be kind to yourself, acknowledge where you need to grow and make friends with the experts—this is all possible for you.

2. Loneliness
   This was a tough one for me as it is for many of my extroverted clients. If you get energy from connecting and collaborating with others, you must build this into your days to stay afloat. I do this by working at co-working spaces via companies like Croissant, Spacious or Deskpass. Also, I work with affiliates—larger coaching organizations where I can find communities of other coaches to refer, to collaborate with on projects or to go out for happy hours. If you work from home, make sure you leave at least once to go for a walk or grab lunch with a friend. Instead of getting in that extra hour of emails, prioritize an energizing gathering that will leave you more productive for the rest of your day.

3. Infrastructure
   Here’s the good news: there’s never been a better time to start a business. Even if you’re a company of one employee, you don’t need to do everything yourself! There are apps and tools to get you up and running quickly for scheduling, accounting, email marketing—whatever you need. You can see my favorites here. Also, there are other entrepreneurs whose expertise matches squarely with the things you DO NOT want to do. Whether it’s technical support, social media marketing, copyediting or design—there are people who can help you by either bartering services or providing affordable packages for solopreneurs like you. You can find them on Upwork, Fiverr and by asking other entrepreneurs who already get the importance of delegation. This must all feel quite meta to my copyeditor of 2.5 years (thank you!).

   The truth is, while starting my own business was the best decision I ever made and the right choice for me, it absolutely can be tough. That’s why the answer I come back to over and over again as challenges arise is my mission, my reason for doing the work that I do. Above all of the logistical solves I offer here to address the "how" of running a business; the "why" is what pulls my clients and me through the plateaus and through the depths. The possibility of gender equity and gender parity is my fuel. This isn’t just about me, it’s about the increasing number of lives I can impact if I keep going, so I always find a way to do so.

June for working parents. Need I say more? It’s laughable what we’re trying to pull off. White-boarding and logistics planning can make you feel prepared for that one moment, until the next picnic or recital is announced for…tomorrow.

This year, I’ve been swept up in the swirl of end of year busyness as I always am, and yet this time, there’s a dull ache just beneath the surface. While my go-to approach is to stuff it down further with more details to wrangle, it body checks me. Leaves me raw.

I become "that parent" sobbing during the class slide show, hanging on every handwritten note in the yearbook and searing the image of my two daughters walking to school together holding hands in my mind as if it’s already gone. Because it nearly is gone.

This week, my daughter’s six-year journey from Kindergarten to 5th grade comes to a close and while I want to shove it into that category of, "I’m not that special. Millions of parents have gone through this milestone before us." With respect and compassion, I also acknowledge that while I may not be special or unique on this front, I am human. And for humans, a change and a passage of time of this magnitude hurts. A lot.

All at once, there’s gratitude for teachers who guided and inspired, appreciation for a community of parents that I didn’t always know well, but made my mornings and field trips even more fun and interesting—and at the heart of it—there’s my kid who went from a curious, all-in little one to a still curious, capable person. Her growth has been dramatic and yet the qualities that we celebrated in her the first day she entered that school are alive and well.

Parenting—and childhood—for that matter is messy. Success only comes when we choose to honor our wins and acknowledge the gravity of goodbye. To do this I know I must:

Hang up my whiteboard marker.

Be there, be present for my daughter each time she asks, even if it’s to look at her final math project, one last time.

Look right at her, smiling and ugly crying during graduation even if it embarrasses the shit out of her.

A proper goodbye for me in this moment is a contract that says, this time and who you’ve become is the most important thing to me right now. It says that every exciting change has a loss attached to it—and feeling the grief right now is the only bridge to get to the other side.

As a business owner and a working mother, there’s a lot to do. It’s endless, really. During the busy times and the rainy weather, the first things to fall off the list are exercise and fresh air breaks. Apparently, I’m not alone in these self-care fails. That’s why last month when my mastermind group of small business owners was planning our June meeting, we decided to schedule a walk and talk in Prospect Park. While we didn’t break a sweat, we did get some steps in, enjoy the energy of the beautiful day, celebrate wins and plot out our goals for the coming months.

For me, these are the moments where I know I can focus on the things that are important to me and I can make the less fun parts of being a grownup fun, in my own way.

Listening to my favorite podcast while I pay bills and do my weekly budgeting tasks.

Rallying my daughters to help me cut out colorful quotes for my next workshop.

Setting up running dates with friends instead of dinners where we will both inevitably eat and spend too much.

This may sound like an obvious concept, yet I find in my coaching practice that suggestions to combine activities can have a profound impact in cleaning up procrastination and reigniting self-care.

To take this approach from idea to practice, follow these simple steps:

1. Make a list of tasks or activities where you’ve been stalling on forward movement or creating a habit.

2. Make a list of activities that feel like a treat or a gift—things you may feel guilty spending time on when there are "important things" that need to be done.

3. Match up tasks from each list so that they seem like a good fit in terms of duration, concentration level and focus. (Hint: listening to an audio book while performing a task that requires focus—like writing—will not work, but an audio book while folding laundry may be a perfect fit.)

4. Pick one or two to begin an efficiency experiment.

For some of my activity combos, I’ve started to look forward to the things I used to truly dislike. Like on the days when I have a 45-minute (or longer commute), I think—it’s just you and me, Terry Gross or Krista Tippett or Oprah. We’re going to make all of these delays and invasions of personal space memorable, even inspiring. And for those areas where I’m still procrastinating, I’m constantly asking, "How can I make this more palatable…or dare I say, fun?" Sometimes the answer is as simple as planting myself at my favorite coffee shop, brainstorming with a close friend or co-working with my puppy who rests his chin on my foot. Somehow, the joy of sweetening the deal gives me the fuel I need to keep moving forward.

A few weeks ago, I attended a gathering at our elementary school with parents whose kids will be going to middle school with my daughter. I was not surprised to learn that the event, along with many others of its kind, was organized by our school’s Parent Coordinator.

Amidst the bustle of parent conversations about sixth graders riding the subway by themselves and gatherings to get the kids ready, I made sure to sneak away to chat with the Parent Coordinator who brought us all together. Feeling lucky to find her alone, I seized my moment.

"I’ve been wanting to thank you for all you’ve done for us through this entire middle school process. You held our hands to help us simplify when it all seemed overwhelming. You shared resources and parent stories so that we felt informed. And—most importantly, you created ways for us to connect with each other, so we can form communities as we step into this new and uncertain time. I felt supported each step of the way. You’re so good at what you do."

She was shocked by this outpouring of gratitude. In a year fraught with concerns and parent stress—there weren’t a lot of thank you’s flying around. And in this moment, I realized—yet again—how much we all need to hear these words. How they lift us up from our hard work, refuel us and help us redouble our efforts.

Here are a few tips to keep in mind as you step into this practice:

Offering appreciation
1. Maintain eye contact so this person can truly connect and take in your words.

2. Be specific! This helps the other person know what they can recreate next time. Note: it can be something small that made an impact.

3. Keep it positive. This is not a feedback session. It’s a time to offer thanks. You don’t want them to walk away focusing on that one negative thing you said—which is what we as humans do!

Receiving appreciation
1. Take it in. Own it. Don’t deflect and take yourself down a notch. This doesn’t feel good for you or the person appreciating you. This takes time to practice, but it’s worth doing! A simple, "I appreciate you saying that." is more powerful than, "It was nothing." Or, "It’s my job."

2. Let it linger. When you’re laser focused on the things you need to do better, remember the thank you’s that have come your way. Let them remind you of the impact you’re having on others.

3. Note the feeling of being appreciated and pay it forward. Catch someone doing something well and jump in with some words of encouragement.

I’ve noticed that often I find it easier to dole out that appreciation when it’s someone outside of my inner circle who has done the bang-up job. For most of us, our teams, friends and families are hungry for that acknowledgement. It may be that we take our close-in people for granted or that our expectations are so high, perhaps too high. Whatever it is, let’s collectively be reminded that this practice is doubly effective when used with our people. They are better when they hear words of encouragement and we are better when we are generous enough to offer them.

Recently, I was asked to participate in a Women’s Rural Retreat in the Catskills area. I would lead 10 women through a 2-hour workshop titled—Getting Creative In Your Career. The rest of the weekend included an apothecary lesson with local makers, a meditative nature walk and a few other ways to connect to the beauty of the area, as well as unwind.

As I began dreaming up the structure for my time with the group, potential PowerPoint slides swam through my brain—but nothing stuck. Bullet points. Charts. Inspirational stock photos. It all felt wrong. Everything that can be powerful in a corporate conference room now seemed completely out of place in this charming spot in the woods. The theme of the weekend was unplugging, relaxing, reflecting—thinking in a new way. I knew what I had to do.

It was time for an experiment!

Having grown my career in large corporate organizations, I rarely walked into a meeting (or said hello) without a deck. And even though I’ve been on my own for a while now, I am often still tethered to this tool as a way to validate all I’m communicating. To say, I fit with you. I belong here—and here’s the data behind me to back it up. This was my moment to deliver an experience, PowerPoint-free and learn about the difference in how it lands.

With tactile cutouts of quotes, a big pad and markers, a guided visualization and honest, thoughtful, vulnerable discussion—we went there. The room was alive with energy, connection and a mutual respect for each other. We created something that wasn’t summarized in a storyline I curated prior to our meeting. And nobody was reading the slides behind me. They were present and they dove within themselves to find answers.

Then with their answers, came mine. Now, I simply need to connect them to the right questions. How can I do more experimenting with this type of format? Who are the audiences who would want it? What’s possible for my business, the women I serve and for me as I begin to make this kind of shift?

I will not use the evidence that came through in this workshop to judge the other work that I’m doing. I do enjoy it and it absolutely falls within my mission. That said, when you experiment with new opportunities and ways of leveraging your strengths—you’re in the space of collecting data for what’s possible in your career.

I find that many friends, colleagues and clients don’t allow themselves this ongoing experimentation for fear that they will fail, that they will not enjoy it—or sometimes it’s that they think they WILL enjoy it—and they will be left with questions about what’s next. Know that one experiment does not need to lead you to a wholesale career change or shift in your thinking. It can however, prompt you to make the next small step to continue your research: learning about who you are and your place in the world.

As a cis-gender person (someone who identifies with the gender assigned at birth), I take the world’s perception of my gender for granted. I identify as female and the way I am seen—in respect to my gender—is in complete sync with how I feel about myself. Given this perception non-issue, I am often asked why I add a line in my email signature that says – She/Her/Hers.

In a recent Well + Good article, Gabrielle Kassel writes, “When a cisgender person—or someone who is read by others as their identifying gender 100 percent of the time—showcases their preferred pronouns, it helps to normalize the practice for all people and recognizes that gender is way more complex than just “male” and “female.”

As a practitioner in the space of diversity and inclusion, here’s why I do it and why you should consider taking this small action, as well:

1. I’m an ally
While I come from the life lens of being clear and un-wavering in my gender, it’s important to me to provide a safe space to those in my orbit and beyond who are not. For those who have struggled to step into their gender identity and those who are now clear their gender is fluid or nonbinary. By sharing my pronouns, I hope to send the message to all people with whom I’m in conversation—it’s safe to share yours and to be you. I see you.

2. It’s a tool to shift perspectives
When I am asked questions about my pronouns, I’m able to educate my cisgender peers on the very reasons I’m defining them as important to all of you now. My knowledge of their importance is informed by the work and wisdom of transgender and nonbinary writers, gender inclusion activists and strategists. But when I take part in sharing this perspective with companies and people who don’t yet understand it, I can help chip away at the emotional toll experienced by trans and nonbinary folks to always be communicating who they are and why it’s OK. Of course, it doesn’t feel like enough—given how far we need to go to create truly diverse and safe spaces, but it’s an easy thing we all can do to push the conversation forward.

3. It helps connect me to other allies
The first place I noticed pronouns in email signatures was with one of my corporate partners. It signaled to me that this was a company that was striving toward being a truly diverse and inclusive workplace, and as I learned more about the organization, that did appear to be the case. Now, when companies or colleagues see my signature, they note I may be a safe coach for their transgender and gender non-conforming employees. And conversely, when I have transgender and nonbinary clients in job searches and career transitions, I can help them target a list of employers that walk their D&I talk.

Beyond email, the next step would be to update your LinkedIn profile. In their Medium article, Argo Collective founder and Gender Inclusion strategist, Max Massure provides a simple how-to on the best way to do this—in addition to providing further rationale for cisgender folks to make these tweaks. While my focus here has been on the professional side of our lives, when we have family and dearest friends in the LGBTQ+ community—this small step is yet another way we can show them allyship, our support and our love.

I’m a woman of many ideas. It’s part of why I’m so deeply loved and why I love being me. And it’s also exhausting: for me and for everyone in my inner circle. I fall in love with a subset of my ideas and I run after them as if I’m summoning my speed for the last mile of a 10K.

There’s a funny look I get from my people when I’m in this mode. A half smile of fear inquiring, “We’re doing this again?”

Twinkle in my eye. Flurry of new to-do’s. Optimism. Busyness. Hope. “Yes, yes we are. Thank you.”

Yet, as I’ve stepped out of my routine in the past few weeks, to be part of a Rural Retreat Weekend and to participate in a week-long professional development training, one theme has been charging at me from all directions.

In order to move forward, I must get quiet.

I’ve been resisting this in every way I know how. Including adding more ideas to my world.

While I cherish a weekly writing practice as my way of going inward, it’s a practice with a business purpose. It’s a way to be in conversation with all of you, to connect on topics that are important to all of us. When I use this time, it’s creative and introspective and yet it’s still goal-oriented.

As the body of research connecting a daily mindfulness or meditation practice to wellbeing grows, it becomes harder to ignore the potential benefits for me in my life. I wouldn’t say I have ignored them altogether.

I’ve downloaded the apps. I use them on occasion.

I’ve taken the walks in the park. When weather conditions are optimal.

I’ve become present in the moment, noticing a butterfly on a building and the emerging buds of spring. When I’m not listening to a podcast or staring at my phone.

Fleeting moments are helpful, but a practice they are not. What I’ve recently acknowledged is that while a quiet practice may come more easily to some (including my clients), it runs counter to the way I’m currently wired. And that’s exactly why I need to have one. Building this muscle will help me refuel, focus and drown out the noise calling me in multiple directions.

Last week an insightful coach and colleague held up a metaphorical mirror (as we coaches often do) for me to see—this is important, but I need to find my own way. There is not one right way to do it.

For me, a place to start and experiment will be with something I already enjoy: writing. I will take 15 minutes each morning to journal about anything. My perfectionism has already had a few thoughts on the subject. “It should be 30 minutes. There should be writing prompts. I should write at least three pages.” Part of this practice is shutting down that voice in order to reinforce that the lack of structure is exactly what I need. I don’t like limits, so when I give myself the time to take it wherever it will go, it is truly freeing.

While it’s still early days in my practice, there’s an ease in it that I have not felt in any other pathway to quiet. There’s freedom to let my mind go anywhere, which given the number of ideas I have a day is exactly where my mind wants to go. Instead of fighting all of the ideas, I’ve created a welcoming home for them to live so I can move on and feel the lightness of who I’m meant to be.