What Gardening Taught Me About Leadership

June is bustin' out all over! Over the years, my passion for gardening and the wonders of the natural world have increased in leaps and bounds, in blues and greens. The lessons I have learned since tending my very first "garden" in a window box in a Boston condo to cultivating an urban garden, farm and woodland retreat is a practice that fills me with joy and possibility and cultivates my leadership well-being. Read on for my four-part lesson plan:

1. Sleep, creep, leap - The three-phase life cycle of a perennial is worth considering when thinking through personal or professional planning. The first year its roots begin to take hold and growth is minimal. The second year, the "creeping" is much more visible and the third year, well, watch out! Cultivating patience and knowing that "incremental change is sustainable change" is a great takeaway from this gardening lesson. And remember to take the long view. 

2. Let go - Despite all of my best efforts, many of my plants have died. Either Mother Nature or a critter has intervened, or they have been crowded out by another more aggressive species. Maybe this shrub was not comfortable in the soil or was diseased from the beginning. All living things have an end date. All we can do is tend them well and avoid grasping when they are gone. Sometimes the "best" ideas are also destined to wither on the vine. Learn to let go. 

3. Weed well - Pulling out what does not serve us, whether it's a pesky weed from the soil or a self-negating thought from our busy mind is another lesson from the garden. The act of weeding is so wonderfully unambiguous; it's a great digital detox and provides an opportunity to get closer to the earth. Like organizing your desk, or cleaning out a closet, weeding removes the distractions and allows you to focus on what's really important, and that's what you are growing.

4. Harvest beauty - Enjoying the fruits of my labor and making floral arrangements to display in my home or give away to friends is one of my favorite activities. There is nothing quite like reveling in the tangible outcomes of all that hard work and paying attention to the magical patterns in flowers and foliage. When was the last time you gave yourself a big pat on the back and celebrated the accomplishments of you and your team? Do it today and throw in a bouquet!

May Day, May Day - Work + Play

What image does May Day conjure up for you? My mind first jumped to workers’ rights and a quick Google search led me to this post about the significance of the Haymarket Riot. On May 1, 1886, more than 300,000 workers across the country staged a walk-out and general strike demanding an eight-hour work day. Violence erupted several days later at Chicago’s Haymarket Square, when a bomb was thrown into an assembly of worker sympathizers and the police responded with gunfire. This resulted in serious casualties and injuries on both sides.

This event, complex and often misinterpreted, is considered by some to be a tipping point for the worldwide labor movement. It also set off a “national wave of xenophobia, as scores of foreign-born radicals and labor organizers were rounded up by police.”

An event that took place 132 years ago sounds like it was pulled from yesterday’s news headlines.

In sharp contrast, The Festival of Flora, honoring the Roman Goddess of flowers was the earliest May Day celebration during the Roman Republic era. Other European pagan cultures commemorated this date with rituals like dancing around the maypole and the giving of “May baskets” — small baskets of sweets or flowers left anonymously on a neighbor’s doorstep.

Traditional English rituals carry on to this day and include the crowning of the May Queen and the staging of festivals honoring fertility and the beginning of spring. The bard nailed it in this quote:

“Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, and summer’s lease hath all too short a date.” How right you are, Mr. Shakespeare, Sir!

I began my day honoring both traditions at Loading Dock Raleigh, a diverse, welcoming coworking and collaborative workspace, with two inspiring female entrepreneurs. We spent an hour in our “creative collision” supporting each other’s journeys and sharing stories of change, challenge, growth and transformation. And yes, we shared “May baskets” of flowers!

Happy May Day — May this month reward you with the best of work and play. Honor both!

Watch Your Backside

Today I received an e-newsletter from a leadership forum I recently attended; right away I clicked to the Flickr album to, you know, see if I was featured.

Are you ever surprised at your face that greets you from across the digital divide? Does the posture and energy from this person reflect your truest, best self? Is this someone you want to hang out with?

I was easy to spot in the photos because of my orange fuzzy suit. It was a cold, rather dreary day and I chose this outfit to uplift my spirits and increase my confidence — things I believe our wardrobes are meant to do.

My choice of clothing did receive more than one compliment and I recognized myself in the front facing photographs. Several of the pictures, however, were taken from the side or behind; captured when I was not aware of the camera.

This got me thinking about my posture and energy from a new perspective. It made me consider other parts of my being that do not get as much attention, and I’m not just talking about a cursory brushing of the back of my hair.

What new learning or insights have I pushed to the back burner because it’s a safer choice? What knowledge can I examine with greater intention to continue to “level up” my leadership skills? How can I more fully integrate both sides of me into the best version of myself?

Have you taken time out to consider your backside lately?

A Mother and Son's Memory of Leaving Home

My Memory: Our family lived in Royal Oak, Michigan for nine years after my husband accepted a position in the architecture department at Lawrence Tech University. We lived in a rental property for the first year and spent the remaining years in a charming bungalow we renovated on the main drag leading into town. Our boys were five and nine when we left with a large trailer hitched to our over-stuffed car. The majority of our possessions were en route to Raleigh, NC in a big moving van. Royal Oak is where our sons took their first steps, made their first friends, learned to swim, attended their first kindergarten class, rode their first bike, collected coins and Pokemon, listened to Eminem, and understood the meaning of “home.” Ours was a pale shade of pink, hence its nick name, “The Pink House.”

We dug in and made a beautiful life with good friends and solid careers, but always knew in the back of our minds that it was a temporary assignment. The East Coast was where we grew up and knew we belonged. Not so for five and nine-year-old boys. So, the right opportunity came along and the job was accepted. The news was shared with friends; the pink house was painted “eggplant” and sold in one day. There were “going-away" parties and discussions with the boys about larger yards, warmer winters, new pets and friends. I shed my tears gradually and let go. Then came the evening of the move and all hell broke loose when the little guys fell apart (the big one too). Somehow, it had not quite sunken in: they were moving away from the only home they had ever known, that very night!

It wasn’t until years later, that we tuned into the massive knowledge gap that existed between the adult version of leaving and that of the child. Words fall terribly short of conveying such a monumental experience of moving from the only home you have ever known. So, we took our final tour through the home - the boys in tears. Goodbye to the front porch where we watched the raging Midwestern storms pass and our neighbor’s mulch float down the street; goodbye to the living room where we made fires and hosted parties and played with the cats; goodbye to the basement playroom where mischief was made; goodbye to Ian’s room with the bunkbeds and Simon’s room under the eaves with its miniature kitchen set. Goodbye beloved pink house; you served us well.

Simon's Memory: I was born in Royal Oak and all of my earliest memories come from that town, from learning how to ride a bike at the nearby park, to helping my dad build his office out in the backyard (helping as much as a 4-year old could). My whole life centered around this place, my friends, and our house that played such an integral part of my childhood. Our house was colored pink and we always referred to it as the Pink House for obvious reasons. Whenever we went on trips to visit family, I remember inevitably breaking down in tears and crying out that I wanted to go back to the Pink House. That house was filled with memories that I still remember fondly. Since moving down south, every time it snows, I picture jumping off our porch into four feet of snow and nearly disappearing. 

I was not ready to leave that house and the friends that were the only friends that I knew. We began to move out, and somehow in the mix of moving out and the whir of change and activity that comes with it, I missed the memo that we were moving so soon. I found myself playing with my best friend on his swing-set in his backyard, when my parents called me over and told me that we needed to go home and to say goodbye to him. I did and then we headed home and when we arrived my parents then told me to say goodbye to our house. I was taken by complete surprise and abruptly burst into tears. I must have thought that it was happening in the near future and not right in that moment. All my worst fears were realized and then we got in the car and left. 

I’ve haven’t been back to Royal Oak in over a decade but I still hold those first memories close to my heart. I am also eternally grateful to my parents for deciding to move to Raleigh, because I would not have met the friends that I have today and in all likelihood, would be a different person. 

So, our stories align in this next chapter of swapping and sharing old memories. How fortunate we are that our loss is grounded in love.  

Wake Up and Smell the Hyacinths

January’s theme was hibernation and I logged in a lot more hours of sleep, reading in front of the fire, reflecting on 2017 and planning for the year ahead. February begins the countdown to spring. As someone highly attuned to flowers and fragrance, I become downright giddy when I am in the company of hyancinths. They remind me of my grandmother’s garden and Easter celebrations. They are especially magical when forced from a bulb in a simple glass container in your home. They smell heavenly and are the right combination of showy and sturdy.

Memories surrounding smell are also on my mind based on a new writing project I am undertaking with my 22-year old son, Simon. We are sharing and reflecting on memories we chose that correspond to a seasonal framework of spring, summer, fall and winter. January’s memory was based on a concert at his pre-school, Mon Ami in Royal Oak, Michigan. My story included a mash-up of the joys and anxieties of early parenting and the pride of seeing your child perform and build confidence. His was centered around smells:

I have a couple of memories that stand out from my pre-k time and most of them are associated with smells. The first and most potent is the type of hand soap that was used in the bathrooms. It was a particular type of soap that I still run into. It brings back a flood of images of the small bathrooms in Mon Ami with stools that led up to the sinks that held cups with individual toothbrushes inscribed with the names of all of the kids. After lunch we would all line up outside of the bathrooms and when it was our turn, we’d grab our toothbrushes and look into the mirrors and watch the other kids mostly to see how they were brushing their teeth so we could know that we were doing it right. Learning as we were, just getting a finger hold on being a person in the world.

The second memory that I have is tied in with comfort. It was the smell of my mom’s coat when she would come inside and pick me up. She used to wear this black coat that was made out of thick cotton, but on the collar and the cuffs, it was fringed with a very soft wool. When I would see her walk into the building or she would call me over as I was playing with the other kids, I would hug her and bury myself in that coat and the smell would be of crisp, clean, cold air. It was something different than the warmth of the inside and the first inkling in my mind that the world was a bigger place. She had come from an outside world that I had not yet began to explore, but that I knew was outside of that school.

So, let’s get this straight: I was wrapped up in my pride and the joys and anxieties of parenting. Meanwhile, my 3-year old son was focused on the smell of soap, learning from his peers and took comfort in the smell of my coat. The smell of my coat! Learning as we were, just getting a finger hold on being a person in the world. Now there’s a life lesson that smacks you right between the eyes and breaks open your heart. Just in time for Valentine’s Day.

2017 is a Wrap - Walking into the Possibilities of 2018

The year that I celebrated my dad’s life and my 30th wedding anniversary and my son’s college graduation and made family more of a priority. The year that I marched with my husband and thousands of women wearing pink hats in Washington DC and lived in a perpetual sense of disbelief and indignation about the state of our national governance. The year that I “leveled up” my leadership through Seth Godin’s altMBA and launched my consulting company, Grounded_LGB LLC. The year that I wrote 365 letters to people who mattered in my life in a spirit of slow appreciation and connection.

Here are the questions that I ask myself with 2018 lurking around the corner: “How can I use the lessons learned from this past year to do more work that matters and make more positive change in my community?” “ What new partnerships can I form that will be mutually beneficial?” “How can I support my family and friends with the most love and generosity possible?” “What other opportunities will present themselves that are not even on my radar?” “How can I support the professional development of emerging leaders and organizations in transition with more energy and creativity and grace?”

As the sun sets on 2017, I send all of the positive energy within me to everyone in my sphere who were part of this year’s remarkable journey. Wishing all of us more love, light, empathy and understanding in 2018.

Grounded in Gratitude All Year Long

It’s that time of year again — or is it? Turning our attention to gratitude around Thanksgiving makes perfect sense. We take time off, we gather with family and friends, we recount the blessings in our lives and if you’re like me, you enjoy lots of pumpkin pie. What greater impact could we make if we committed to a consistent, daily practice of gratitude in our lives? There are countless books and journals and blogs devoted to this topic, so I am not adding anything new to the conversation. In typing out words, I am reminding myself to exercise this habit that can shine light into dark times.

This was the year that I made a huge leap into the unknown; my inner wisdom beckoned me to reinvent myself and create a new lifestyle with a sharper focus on personal and professional well-being. I took my own hand and heart and began the journey. The foundation was a letter writing project that connected me to a vast community of support, past and present. Each time I wrote another letter, the gratitude flowed more freely. Here’s another opportunity to give some shout-outs to those who helped me get Grounded.

My family has championed my efforts and allowed me the space to experiment and grow. Celebrating the life of my father at the beginning of the year deepened my appreciation for both parents’ legacy of community service and philanthropy; honoring their story in my own actions has rooted me to my own purpose. I am grateful to live in a neighborhood and a community that offers so many reasons to connect and serve. A short list includes Raleigh City Farm, RPWF, Oakwood Garden Club, and the Women’s Giving Network.

In addition, I am so fortunate to have a group of women friends who support and encourage me. From my book club to other supportive circles, I hang with some pretty amazing individuals who inspire me and remind me of my worth. My community expanded big-time this year through Seth Godin’s altMBA. This four-week online course gave me the additional permission I needed to pursue my purpose while connecting me to an incredibly authentic, committed, diverse and talented global community of ruckus-makers.

Happy Thanksgiving today, and every day of the year to all!

Joy and Sorrow on October 2, 2017

October is my favorite month. Today is my birthday, I love the splendor of autumn leaves against clear blue skies. I love to pull out sweaters and start to layer again. I love the cooling of the air, the color orange, heirloom pumpkins, anticipating another hour of sleep when daylight savings time arrives. Today I also celebrate a new partner for my consulting business (details to follow). Tonight, dear friends will gather and toast to my life and my husband will prepare my annual lobster dinner. How lucky I am. How grateful and grounded I feel.

Waking to the news of the Las Vegas tragedy, I move through shared grief and feel breathless and slightly raw. My mind jumps to our local IBMA festival that closed last night right down the street from my home and how much deeper this wound would have been if the unthinkable had happened here in Raleigh. Holding onto these feelings of personal joy and collective sorrow is my journey today on this heartbreakingly beautiful crisp fall day. Opening my heart, slowing down, breathing more deeply, paying more attention to all of the gifts in my life.

My Slow Appreciation Project: Reconciling Family, Love and Life Passages

On the last day of 2016, I reviewed and revised my intentions for the New Year. They had been brewing all year, but presented themselves with sharper focus when I allowed myself to slow down and listen to my clear inner voice — one that I have been turning to with greater trust and confidence as the years go by. The year was defined by multiple family and career transitions: one son’s graduation from art school; another’s college semester in Chile; my intentional departure from NC Theatre after nearly 14 years and that which prompted my literary journey of reconciliation: the death of my father last December. I turned to writing to process the death of my mother in 2014 and built a network of women who lost their mothers in various stages of their lives. Our collaboration culminated in an article that was published as a Mother’s Day article in the May issue of Walter Magazine.

The life passage of being parentless was an urgent call to cultivate and nurture more appreciation for my vast community of family and friends, both living and dead. After my formal announcement about leaving NC Theatre, I was overwhelmed by the outpouring of appreciation that I received: emails, cards, offers for lunch, parties and gifts. These messages and displays of support and gratitude created powerful moments of well-being and I thought to myself, “What didn’t they say this earlier?” or “Why didn’t I ask for this sooner?” or “Maybe they were telling me all along, but I was too busy “doing” to fully receive the messages?” I can honestly say that I balanced my relentless career pursuits with time and space for myself and family, but my work style has a decided “bias for action” and I moved with alacrity to accomplish as much as possible every day — perhaps I was moving too quickly?

Slow appreciation is my commitment to an intentional year of personal reflection and outreach by writing a letter each day to people in my life who have shaped and inspired me.

“I write to make sense of my life,” is my favorite quote from John Cheever. I am a lifelong keeper of journals. This dates back to writing and saving handwritten notes to and from friends; pasting ticket stubs and postcards and squashed corsages into oversized books; and finally pouring out my heart and soul onto the page then in the digital realm. This act of writing letters with intentional gratitude and no expectation has provided more meaning and structure to my days and has resulted in some incredible reconnections and discoveries. I am now two-thirds of the way through my project and I feel my heart opening up a bit wider each time I reach out, reflect and reconcile memories from the past that have been tucked away. My goal is to create a ripple effect of well-being at a time of tumultuous transition in the world. Moving from cynicism to reverence has been one of the joyful outcomes of the journey.And it’s not over yet.

How I am Getting Grounded

Last month I launched my consulting company Grounded_LGB LLC. A year ago I announced my departure from NC Theatre without a clear plan of where I would land. What has taken place during this one-year journey is my story of personal and professional growth and discovery and grounding. At its core, it’s a fairly basic tale of decision-making: after nearly fourteen years at the Theatre, I knew it was time for a career change for me and that modeling healthy transition would be good for the company. Who knew it would turn into so much more?

My professional sabbatical officially launched in January, and I began to turn more of my attention to myself and my family: laying my father to rest; traveling with my husband to commemorate our anniversary; celebrating my younger son’s graduation; supporting my elder son’s artistic career; exercising my political inclinations; digging into creative acts of dancing and gardening and writing.  As I was cultivating my own leadership well-being, I was laying the groundwork for my company’s mission and the entrepreneurial work that I was craving. Three words define my quest:

Cultivating – This word has such potent meaning for me. It speaks to a consistent and dedicated approach to life, whether it’s tending a garden or nurturing a relationship. It requires diligence and patience and healthy doses of love and care. It’s another fairly basic concept, but one that sometimes gets overlooked as people and companies lose focus and leap to new ideas and projects rather than paying closer attention to longstanding programs or projects or policies that may be right in front of them.

Leadership – Is. Everything. It sets the tone and culture for moving strategy forward. It inspires or it limits. It binds groups together or tears them apart. Contemplating, discussing and influencing healthy leadership and governance is my passion during these highly charged times. Supporting leaders and providing them with the professional tools and the personal space they need to perform should be a high priority. I believe that how we respond to and address leadership challenges is one of our highest callings.

Well-being – It starts and ends with the individual, with you. This is what I have come to firmly believe and it springs from a place of empowerment. How we take care of ourselves, how we show up with enough sleep, with more creative energy to expend, with more patience to tackle tough problems, with equanimity to inspire others. Taking the time to fuel our well-being ensures that we can make the kind of incremental, lasting impact that our families and companies and communities deserve.

Launching my company was an intentional act of getting personally grounded. My vision is a community more grounded in healthy leadership and governance. I’m looking for collaborators who share my passion and are ready to start a conversation – connect with me!