Taxing Times

I do so hate to be a negative Nelly but every now and then too many things conspire to send me over the edge. Once I start to slide down the slippery slope of sarcasm into the abyss of apathy, I lose all authority over my little slice of nice.

I spend a great deal of my waking hours in the nice business.  People can make ridiculous demands, ask ludicrous questions, and insult me on every level and yet my job is to make them feel welcome, wise, and worthy.

So surely I expect the same courtesy from others when I have the occasional lapse into unconsciousness and behave like a buffoon or the uninformed citizen I sometimes am.  Imagine my outrage when I am treated with the disrespect and hostility I am never allowed to show in my line of work!

By this stage of the game, I know life is not fair.  Like Eleonor Roosevelt, I know “no one can make me feel inferior without my consent.”  It just surprises me that others can be so obtuse and not realize when they are violating a code of conduct that dictates basic human decency.

I’ve spent my whole life preparing for my current job.  Years of spiritual training wandering in the desert and soaking in the silence and solitude of sacred spaces has prepped me for handling the daily onslaught of demands, conundrums, and outright perplexities that present themselves in the form of other people.

But nothing ever quite prepares me for tax time.  Call it a numbers block.  Tell me what we resist, persists.  Encourage me to just do it.  Suggest to me that creative types can’t be expected to balance a budget.

I don’t know what it is about facing the spreadsheet that makes me so crazy.  Every year I ultimately do it.  I account for all my income and expenses and then write a check to the US Treasury, the State of Illinois, and the State of Iowa. I'm an equal opportunity tax payer.

It isn’t that I resent paying taxes.   (Unless I think of  former Illinois Governor Blagojevich, who violated taxpayers' trust.) All I have to do is recall the many freedoms I enjoy or one person I know who is serving our country and imagine my money contributing to his or her salary and I’m okay to pay.  The problem for me lies in the preparation.

Like counting calories consumed, counting money spent is not nearly as pleasurable after the fact.  I tend to underestimate on both accounts. Even more humbling is sharing this information with someone who has no interest in the reasons, only the results. 

Just as a person trainer might suggest I eat less pasta and do more Pilates, tax preparers tend to suggest I spend less on shoes and earn more in royalties.  Admittedly, $33.84 per year is not a substantial second income.

But here is where I will circle back to my original rant about being treated with respect. When I expose my financial faux pas or coup d’états to a tax professional, I do not care to be bludgeoned by them.  As long as I can remember I’ve promised one preparer or another that I will make more and spend less, or on the odd year, make less and spend more, or do any number of things to improve my financial fitness according to the accountant.

I’m sure tax people can sum up a person by their financials as easily as I might sum up a student’s success rate by looking at their ACT or Compass scores.  It’s easier to process large numbers of people and paperwork by labeling or categorizing them.  But one thing I’ve learned from working with students is these scores only tell part of their story.  The only chance I have to hear the rest of it is to treat them respectfully enough to allow it to emerge.

What happened in the tax preparer’s office this week was not pretty.  I wanted to find someone local in hopes of forging an ongoing relationship with a trusted advisor.  What I didn’t expect was to be badgered, belittled, and bullied by this person. 

At a certain point I sensed the conversation – okay the lecture - was not going in the direction I had imagined.   I knew I had the option of asking for my paperwork back and finding someone else to prepare my taxes.  It was then that my good girl training kicked in and assured me that while it may have assuaged the insult to my ego, it wouldn't get me any closer to filing my taxes.  Time was of the essence and I didn't want my behavior to have any residual fallout on the friend who referred me.  

My best option seemed to be to bite the bullet and make a different choice next year. 

So I did what I always do when I need perspective.  I surrounded myself with my canine companions and asked them what might really be contributing to my tax time meltdown.  They suggested the following:

#1)  It’s not just the taxes.  It’s the trivial pursuit of dealing with every taxing thing on a daily basis.

#2)  You expect people to be as nice to you when they do their jobs as you are to them when you do yours.

#3)  #2 is an unrealistic expectation.  People, unlike dogs, do not love unconditionally or act rationally.

#4)  The pen is mightier than the sword.  Blog about it.  Maybe other people feel the same way,  have similar issues, or can offer helpful suggestions?

#5)  Tell your story and then, by all means, let it go and take us for a walk.  Don't forget the treats.

So, there you have it.  From the jaws of canines, the truth emerges. 

Actually my biggest take away from this taxing experience was a reminder of why I strive to offer excellent customer service, especially when it is difficult and I'm being a negative Nelly.  I never want a student to walk out of my office feeling the way I felt when I walked out of the accountant’s office. 

I can’t change the way he does business, but I can remember how I do business.

What about you?  What do you practice even when it's absurdly difficult because it's incredibly important?

What's Your Excuse?

We all have one.  Or several.  Most of us have two or three undeniably difficult life situations that  severely slow us down, trip us up, discourage even the most positive among us, or make reaching the goal appear next to impossible. 

It’s these excuses that we hang on to for dear life.  Because if we didn’t have something or someone to blame for holding us back, we’d just have all those dashed dreams, broken hearts, and unrealized goals staring us in the face. And that can be unbearable.

But what, pray tell, would happen if we willingly let go of even one of these excuses? 

Sometimes we have no choice.  The elderly parent we’ve devoted our life to taking care of suddenly passes away.  The relationship we’ve strung together on alternate weekends and bank holidays unravels to the point of no return.  The child we've loved and supported for two decades joins the Army and is deployed to an undisclosed location.  The job we've tolerated in order to provide our family with health insurance has laid us off.

At midlife more than any other time we are faced with what Judith Viorst calls "necessary losses".  In her book by the same name, she describes the loves, illusions, dependencies, and impossible expectations we all have to give up in order to grow.   

In theory we know the drill.  None of us get out this gig alive.  But it never really seems to apply to us.  Until it does.  Somewhere around the middle of our lives we may find that we’re spending more time at wakes then we're spending awake.

That’s when it hits us.  What must we do now that we really understand our clocks (and I’m not talking the biological kind) are ticking?  What are we capable of in spite of our limitations?  If mothers can lift automobiles off infants, what can we do if we are focused, fearless, and unapologetically fabulous?

The phrase I’ve found myself using more these days than, say, a decade ago is, “I don’t have that kind of time.”  What I really mean is that I no longer choose to spend it the way other people might or the way I used to.

If I want extraordinary results in my life, I have to put in extraordinary effort. I'm not implying this has to be extraordinarily difficult.  If it were, few would have the fortitude for it.  More than anything, it seems to be a matter of deep practice or putting in the time... 10,000 hours to be exact.

We have all achieved extraordinary results doing things we love for people we love.   This is why we continue to do them.  We may not experience these results daily, but often enough to keep putting in the time.

The time and effort I put into writing may only seem extraordinary to those who find writing difficult.  Because these people might never spend a Friday night blogging  about midlife’s mysteries, they probably assume I find this task equally daunting.

On the contrary, the best part of my day is when I can finally sit down and capture the relentless flow of words and ideas that demand my attention from moment I am conscious.  Because of this, every night before I go to sleep, I make sure I’ve written at least one good sentence, preferably a paragraph.

It wasn’t always like this.  I would squander time, talent, and opportunity through indecision, inaction, blank page paralysis, and other (absolutely legitimate) excuses (see first paragraph).

I get better at writing by writing.  I get better at writing by reading great writing.  I get better at writing because I love to write. 

You do the same with parenting, running a business, taking photographs, event planning, playing the cello, designing websites, preparing taxes, or planning a trip to Timbuktu.  You, too, have a deep practice that you easily devote 10,000 hours to that make you exceptional, whether the world, your family, or your colleagues recognize you for this or not.

While I may never fully realize the impact my words have on others, I do realize the impact a good accountant has on my business, a good travel agent has on my opinion of west Africa, an excellent party planner has on my niece’s 6^th birthday, a good photographer or designer has on my book jacket cover, or a great cook has on my waistline.

Because the world needs your contributions, I encourage you to unabashedly give one of your  excuses the boot.  Maybe not your favorite one, but the one that seems a little lame even to you.

For example, I often convince myself I can’t possibly write a book when I work 60 hours a week.  The truth is I need the structure - and income - of a day job to support my creative efforts.  And I can cut back to 40 hours without robbing my employer of my services.

So, no excuses!  Go do that thing that you love.  You know, the one that you're probably doing this weekend anyway, yes?

And, please, don't be shy about telling me what it is.

Unleash Your Creativity

Try as I might to ignore it, this year I'm having one of those big birthdays that others refuse to let pass quietly. 

On the eve of my thirtieth birthday, I was on a plane that had to make an emergency landing.  I decided then and there that turning thirty was better than dying in a plane crash. 

When I turned forty I was so disgruntled I had to remind myself about that earlier ephipany as I reluctantly drug myself to a friend's house for what I expected to be a private pity party.  Once I arrived at her place students, friends, and family surprised me with a party so touching that pity had no place at any party since. 

What I didn't know then that never ceases to amaze me now is that my forties have been my favorite decade.  If someone had told me life would become so juicy at midlife, I would have never believed them. Partly because our culture tries to convince us that adventures in love, life, and living large only happen to the young and reckless and partly because I didn't think I had it in me.

If the past few years are any indication, I have to believe things are only going to get more interesting. This is not because my life is easier. On the contrary, new challenges I could never have imagined earlier pop up daily. 

It's just that one day I decided it was time to grow up and do what needed to be done.  I also discovered I could do this without compromising what mattered most to me. Now I have the resources - confidence, experience, health insurance, and a steady income - to deal with the daily drudgery as well as the delights.

This doesn't happen by default.  For things to get more interesting, I have to get more interesting.  I can't do this simply by planning for retirement. I have to practice the power of full engagement each day. To be an excellent educator, I have to be a life long learner.  To be a success, I also have to be willing to be a life long loser since success for me has never been an immediate outcome of trying something new.

With this in mind, I've decided the most meaningful way to celebrate my life so far is to share what I do best with the people I love most.  I've decided to write a Midlife Manifesto called Words to Live By and create a video and ebook that I can deliver straight to your computer just for the asking.  This does two things.

1)  It catapults me out of my comfort zone and lights my creative fire by forcing me to learn something new, necessary, and, after the initial frustration, fun.   2)  It gives you something that is personal, something you can share if you want to, and hopefully something that will be meaningful to you as well.

Since the big day is just a few months away, I have some essays to write.  Fifty of them to be exact. 

The next few months you may see a frenzy of activity on this blog site as I feverishly post the essays in progress.  Or you may see the occasional ramblings of a distracted writer who has suddenly decided cleaning out the refrigerator or alphabetizing the can goods is top priority. 

This happens to creative people.  It could be happening to you, in fact. Like preparing for an intense workout, we sometimes need a warm up activity before committing to the inevitable.

I used to facilitate a weekly creativity group.  Coaching people into coaxing out their creative side remains one of my all time favorite things to do.  But the biggest thing I learned from that experience is in order for me to help others unleash their creativity, I must unleash mine.

So here's to a couple of months of unprecedented creative outpouring.  When it's time to roll out the finished project, I hope your spirit will catch fire and you, too, will unleash your creativity in all kinds of unexpectedly brilliant ways .

9½ Notions Regarding the Art of Love

V

alentine’s Day is like Christmas.  You know you’re supposed to find it appealing.  You know this is the day to shower the people you love with love.  But more often than not, it feels like a marketing ploy designed to convince you that money can buy you love.  Still, you know there is an art to love that takes considerable time to master. 

               

                In order to alleviate all the pressure surrounding February 14^th, I advocate practicing the art of love year round.  Here are some suggestions to get you started.

1. Love yourself first.  If you can’t love yourself, no one else can either.   The wonderful thing about falling in love is that you get to fall for yourself in the process.  Wooing another with your wit and wickedly wild ways requires you to conjure up a certain amount of charm you may have forgotten you possessed.    Sure, your new love may have you “walking on air.”  But if you didn’t have your own wings, you’d still be on the ground.

2. Be the love you seek to find.  So, you want a fiery red-head who meets you at the door dressed in nothing but cellophane?  Perhaps you prefer a hunk of burning love with the soul of a poet?   If you are slouching on the couch, drinking beer, and eating bonbons, how appealing do you think you are going to be to your particular vision of loveliness?  If you want excitement, be exciting!   If you want your partner to perform a tantalizing tango, make sure you know more than the two-step. 

3. Dare to be romantic.   Aside from the main characters in romance novels or movies, most real people are sadly lacking in romance.  This is a shame since romance is so easy to evoke.  While flowers, sparkly objects, candle-lit dinners, and nights at the opera are thrilling, so is a steamy sonnet snuck in a lover’s lunch box or a single sunflower sitting next to the baby wipes.  Romance is not just for the rich and famous but for the daring and original.

4. Love is about expression not perfection.  We are bombarded with images of the ideal and hypnotized to believe we have to be perfect to be loved.  Yet what we inevitably fall for in another is his imperfections - those adorably small ears, the one-sided dimple, the slightly bowed legs.  It’s our vulnerability that opens us up to love and emboldens us to express that love in our own quirky way.   Of course you might want to refrain from singing “Muskrat Love” at a karaoke bar in front of people who can promote or demote you, but serenading your sweetheart in the moonlight might make her swoon.

5. Clean your slate daily.  Life is messy and love is tender.  If little slights or unintended hurts are not cleared up on a regular basis they accumulate like compound interest.  This is not something you can afford to have working against you.  Do not let perceived offenses go underground and fester.  If you do these grudges will undoubtedly erupt at Thanksgiving dinner in front of  family and friends or at a parent-teacher conference in front of your child’s principal.  Do what it takes to come clean daily. 

6. Make love, not war.   Opposites attract – in theory.  In reality, the moment you say “to–may–to” and I say “to-ma-to,” we’re ready to call the whole thing off.  Most of us choose a partner precisely because they are from Mars and we are from Venus.  They compliment us.  They know what wines go with what foods and we know how to calculate the tip.  When things gets ugly, try to recall that this is the man you defend in front of your mother or this is the woman you gave up Monday night football for.  While the behavior  may drive you crazy, you still love the person, yes?  Some things are worth fighting for; others are worth agreeing to disagree.   If you’re going to fight, fight fair.  And always make up. 

7. Say what you mean, mean what you say.  Don’t be lazy with language.  We have an exquisite vocabulary at our disposal and yet we insist on using the same words time after time.  Although you may be very comfortable with your “love you/love you, too” routine, you can do better.  Paint word pictures or set your sentences ablaze with sizzling suggestions.  Don’t say, “You look nice” when what you really mean is “You look ravishing, delicious, or sinful.”  Don’t say, “What’s different about you?” when what you’re really wondering is whether his eyes always dance with devilish delight when you mention mud wrestling.

8. Listen, learn, leap.  Just when you think you know someone inside out, he will surprise you.  Instead of being outraged, be amazed, amused, or intrigued by what may have rocked his world.  We are curiously creative creatures trying to find our way in the world.  It’s easier to do that when we know there are those who love and trust us even if they don’t understand us.   If you love someone, drop the conditions you place on her.  Then trust her enough to know she’ll do something spectacular with your unflinching support and adoration. 

9.   Ask for what you need.  Yes, it’s uncanny that the same person who can finish your sentences cannot fathom your ever-fluctuating need for space and intimacy, freedom and security, conversation and silence, carrots and carrot cake.  As nice as it would be for your loved ones to anticipate your every wish, they cannot.  There is no logic in the “If he really loved me he’d know I don’t like mayo on sandwiches made with packaged turkey slices but I love it on sandwiches made with fresh turkey.”  Or “If she really loved me she would know I already have a ¾ inch wrench but what I’m sorely lacking is a 5/8 inch wrench.”  Assume the one you love is so smitten with you that they get light headed in your presence and can’t remember anything but how much they love you.  Be gentle.  Help them help you.

9½ .  Laugh.  Often!  Need I even remind you of the importance of a sense of humor?

Square Pegs

When I moved to New Mexico I had no idea how the mountains and the high desert would shape my life.  If I felt angry, irritated, or anxious, I'd head to the trails and walk until the landscape worked its magic on my mood.  With my dog Malcolm by my side, I felt prepared for whatever crossed our path, from the mystical meeting with a javelina, to the respectful rerouting around a red racer or rattler, to the wagfest that followed our meeting of dog friends and their people on a similar path.

It may have been the combination of the air at that altitude, the constant contact with the ground beneath me, the absolute joy of a carefree canine sniffing and marking his territory, or just the presence of mountains that made my troubles feel like molehills.

The kind of stress I experienced in Santa Fe was more of an existential angst than the kind of stress I experience these days.  But I’ve yet to encounter any kind of stress that can’t be relieved by a long walk. 

Winter in Iowa means if I am going to take that walk, it’s usually on my treadmill.  But the other day we had a break in the temps and I decided to head outdoors.  The early morning fog was hiding many things, the most dangerous of these was black ice.  But I was determined to let the liquid landscape of the Maquoketa River works its wonders just as the solidarity of the Sandias had.

Life sometimes rewards our valiant attempts at discipline and provides us with an unequivocal sign of encouragement.  Mine came as soon as I looked up from the frozen tundra and discovered two magnificent birds above me.  Could they be eagles?  Indeed!

One landed in a tree across the river.  The other landed in the tree right in front of me. I’d never had a close encounter with eagles before.  Like celebrities tolerating the paparazzi, they sat regally allowing me to “ooohhh” and “aaahhh” and wonder how I might capture this moment when my camera and phone were back at the house.  Would they wait for my return?

Most likely not.  They had jobs to do, places to go, nests to feather, food to provide for the family. But that didn’t stop me and my other dog Abbey from setting out every morning since then with my camera and the intent to find them again. 

We didn’t see the eagles immediately but we did encounter a chocolate lab one day which made Abbey, a yellow lab, very excited.  I suppose it’s the recognition that another looks, sounds, thinks, acts, or behaves like we do that somehow makes us feel like we belong.  I call it finding our tribe.

I remember having the feeling of finding my tribe when I first moved to Santa Fe.  Admittedly I’m an odd duck.  For most of my life, I’ve been the proverbial square peg in a round hole.  Although I understood the mainstream, I preferred the edge, the fringe, the outer limits.  This is what made The City Different so appealing.

Santa Fe seems to me to be a city of self-appointed exiles.  People who don't quite fit in with the population in their respective birth places find the unique blend of beauty, art, and eccentricity of Santa Fe the perfect place to discover their own. The convergence of three distinctly different cultures creates an atmosphere of acceptance that makes Santa Fe essentially Switzerland, a neutral zone where anything and anyone is welcome. 

So why am I here and not there?  I think Charles Dickens said it best in The Tale of Two Cities, “It was the best of times.  It was the worst of times.”   To paraphrase Mr. Dickens, having lived there “was a far, far better thing that I had ever done before.” 

But when I’d walk the arroyos day after day repeating the mantra, “Place me where the needs of the community and my skills come together,” I’d get the distinct impression that meant going back to where I came from.  After all, a city can only accommodate so many gurus. Not that I considered myself to be one, but the things I learned in the desert were destined to be shared with those who would otherwise never know its secrets.

So in this circuitous pattern that I’ve come to recognize as my unofficial life plan, I found myself back in the Midwest , working in another kind of educational system, once again feeling like a square peg in a round hole.  This time, however, I understand the purpose of the square peg. 

Square pegs, it turns out, are more plentiful than one might suspect.  They are just really good at hiding out if they happen to live in predominantly round peg places.  But as soon as one square peg dares to stand out, others start popping up.

For example, this year we had the good fortune to hire a fabulous faculty member who moved to Maquoketa because her spouse had taken a job at the high school.   She could teach the classes that were in high demand and had an unbridled passion for her subjects and students. 

Sadly that passion can get snuffed right out of a person in one semester if steps are not taken to protect it.  Because of this, I refuse to let her fire go out on my watch.  Together we're working to create weekly writing workshops for students.  It's nothing grand, but it's a start.

The price of being a square peg can take its toll personally before one's contributions have been recognized professionally.  But the beauty of midlife is knowing it’s not over until it’s over.  As Richard Bach said, “What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the master calls a butterfly."   The challenge is continuously reinvent, mentor, make meaning, and help others recognize and achieve their potential.

Square pegs, like eagles, can be inconspicuous until you know they are there.  Then you actively seek them out.  You look for the signs that they are among us. 

Friday morning I’d just gotten off the treadmill and let the dogs out the back patio.  Malcolm barked and I looked up.  And then I saw it.  The eagle had landed. 

For a week I’d been combing the riverfront looking for eagles.  Then when I least expected it, one appeared right outside my window.   It seemed to know the sight of it touched something within me and therefore granted me a brief audience.  So it is with rare birds.

If you consider yourself among these rare birds, square pegs, nerds, geeks, quirky creatives, whatever you prefer to call yourself, please come out, come out wherever you are!  Your tribe needs you.  

Carpe Diem

On Friday it snowed 6 inches in Maquoketa, squelching any fantasy I may have had that this winter would be a mild one.  It was a perfect day to snuggle up in bed with a good book and my two dogs to keep me company.  But since the buck stops with me at our satellite campus and I live five minutes away, snow days are seldom an excuse for me to miss work.

If I had to, I could walk to school, even though no student in their right mind would venture out to meet me there.  On rare occasions I do get the 5am call from the main campus to say we’re closing, but our college is not as quick to close as other institutions.  We want to make sure students get their money’s worth even though the typical student reaction to school closing remains the same from kindergarten to college.  It goes something along the lines of, “Yessss!!”  This is especially true if a paper is due or an exam scheduled.

One of the skills I’ve come to appreciate immensely at midlife is learning to surrender to the present moment.  If life (not to be confused with DQ) sends you a blizzard, gather the coworkers who made it to work and order in pizza.  Savor the break in routine and the chance to slow down and reconnect.

Surrendering is a skill that takes a lifetime to master and I lay no claim to being close to mastery. However, I am convinced every obstacle, every irritant, every time I don’t get my way, I get to practice this skill. 

Because of the nature of my work, January and August are full of opportunities for me to practice.  At the end of the day though, when the snow settles and my younger snow dog Abbey and I take an aerobically challenging walk by the river where the snow has yet to be plowed, I remind myself in this moment, life is good. There is much to celebrate.

I’m not a big fan of snow, but this snow is beautiful.  I’m not a big fan of cold, but the crisp air does seem to snap me out of whatever funk I had been experiencing from spending too much time in my head and not enough in my body.  I’m also acutely aware that by morning, the untouched snow that is sparkling so spectacularly under the street lights will turn to a dirty grey slush that will make driving more manageable but walking less so.  Consequently, carpe diem is my motto as we walk in this winter wonderland.

In order to seize the day you have to be fully present for it.   Have you ever driven somewhere and wondered how you got there?  Have you ever left your house and wondered if you left the iron on, the bird cage open even though you're cat sitting for your sister, or your cell phone in the charger? 

Sometimes we go unconscious doing routine things.  Other times we go unconscious when we’re out of our comfort zone and a little frazzled by current events.   I can lose my boarding pass at least five times from the ticket counter to the gate.  And I consider myself a frequent flyer.

The key for me seems to be to catch myself going unconscious and bring myself back into the moment.  In the midst of frantically searching for my boarding pass, I can acknowledge that I am a little nervous and calmly talk myself down from the ledge of lunacy.  I can remind myself my boarding pass is most likely in the  trip wallet I bought specifically for it because I tend to lose track of it when I get anxious.

About a month ago I had an advising appointment with a student at 4pm.  At approximately 3:50 we suspected a gas leak outside our building.  When I told the student I’d need to address this issue first he handed me his cell phone with the gas company’s emergency number on speed dial.  He had recently been involved in a similar situation at his job and knew exactly what to do.  Within moments we had the building evacuated and a technician from the gas company on his way. 

We have procedures in place for emergencies.  But in that moment, this student expedited the process by offering up exactly what was needed.   If I had not realized this student had as much to offer me as I had to offer him, I would have complicated matters and delayed the process.

We think we have to have all the answers.  As advisors, elders, parents, caregivers, coaches, politicians, neighbors, and friends, we are often expected or paid to.  Yet we can only know what’s best if we know what’s really being asked.  And to know that we have to be present to what is being asked of us now, not autoresponding to what we believe we've heard a hundred times before.

I’m reading a marvelous book by Martha Beck called Finding Your Way in a Wild New World. In order to help us navigate the wild new world we find ourselves in, she suggests four practices, the first of which is dropping into wordlessness.  That's not an easy thing for a wordsmith or anyone with an inner Chatty Cathy to do.  But I do believe that’s where the present offers up its gifts. 

Like 6 inches of snow.

Despite what might be currently causing you grief, what gifts is the present offering you that you might want to seize this very day?

Name It and Claim It in the New Year

If  ever there is a time when we collectively rally to put our best foot forward, it’s at the New Year.  We make resolutions, reflect on the past year, tally up our losses and give thanks for our gains –unless, of course, it’s weight which we then resolve to lose.

It may be the only time with the exception of a landmark birthday that we ask ourselves the question poet Mary Oliver poses.  “Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”  

The answer to this may be too ambiguous to guide your life unless you break it down into yearly, monthly , weekly , daily, even momentary decisions and actions.   For example, if I know my passion is to write stories that touch lives or help me better understand my own, then it's important that I pay attention, have pen and paper in hand or laptop nearby and actually write every chance I get.  A delay can become an opportunity to rework my blog post.  An unexpected turn of events can provide the comic relief or surprise ending I need for a fact laden feature article.

For years now I’ve used the end of the year to think about my behavior as well as my hopes for the future.  I've challenged myself to come up with a name for the new year that captures my imagination as well as my intentions.  It also has to be tenacious enough to take whatever the next twelve months might have in store.

Like choosing a name for a new addition to your family, sometimes it takes time for the name of the new year to reveal itself.  The year will bring with it its own agenda independent of your hopes and dreams.  This has the potential to surprise and delight you as well as disappoint you and break your heart.

If 2011 was a particularly challenging year, you may believe 2012 is bound to be better.  If 2011 was a breakthrough year for achieving career, relationship, or health goals, the challenge for 2012 may be to sustain or surpass these achievements. 

The expression “name it and claim it” suggests if you can dream it, you can do it. If you can articulate it, you can achieve it. If you can clearly visualize what you want and are willing to take the action to get from here to there, by all means click your heels three times, wiggle your nose, and “Poof!” you are most assuredly on your way.

According to Dave Kohl, professor emeritus at Virginia Tech, people who regularly write down their goals earn nine times as much over their lifetimes as the people who don’t.  Yet a whopping 80% of Americans say they don't have goals.

I love reading Henriette Anne Klauser’s book, Write It Down, Make It Happen.  The act of writing down your dreams and intentions helps define and clarify them.  Paul Scheele of Learning Strategies has a program called Clear Mind Bright Future that breaks down the clarification process into different areas of your life.  Knowing what you want helps tremendously in the daily delegation of your time, energy, and attention.

Since I’ve done this Naming of the New Year thing for several years I will offer four simple suggestions for those of you willing to give it a try.

#1 – Make it meaningful to you.  You are under no obligation to make it meaningful to anyone else.  You are on your own trajectory complete with tricky timing and impatient inklings that refuse to be ignored.  This is your year.  Now is the time.  Inspire by example.   

#2 – Make it fun and achievable.  This is your GPS for the year.  Would you follow a course that feels like drudgery month after month?  I think not.  What excites you as opposed to obligates you?  What nudges you out of your comfort zone enough to make you feel like you've been challenged but not overwhelmed to the point of giving up?  Sometimes it isn't the extra mile but the extra quarter mile that makes you feel sufficiently challenged. 

#3 – Make it memorable.  Like an elevator speech, you should be able to recall your New Year Name at a moment's notice. I like to use words that roll off the tongue.  For example, Happy Shoe Year was great for the year I got a pair of Fatbaby boots, Birkenstocks, and ballroom dancing shoes at the beginning of the year.  It symbolized the adventures I intended to have in said shoes.  Happy Vue Year was going to be about getting a new set of wheels and oh, the places I would go until Saturn went out of business and I decided that might not be the direction my future should follow.  (Adjustments to the name are allowed as circumstances warrant.)  Happy Do Year was the year I planned to stop agonizing over every decision and do more by taking unapologetic action.

#4 - Make room in your life to receive what you desire.  This is major.  How often do you plead, pray, and petition for what you want and when the person, place, thing, or experience shows up, you are too busy (or more likely frightened) to receive it or allow a place for it in your life?  Granted, it may not look exactly how you envisioned it.  The universe does have a keen sense of humor.  But I'm guessing you'll come to see the perfection of it.  Living by design, on purpose, authentically, or however you like to describe it will change your life.  In 2011 I allowed three major events to reshape my life.  Doing this gracefully meant remembering that I asked for it.

With all the hype surrounding 2012, it might be an interesting time to ask yourself, what would absolutely light your fire this year?  How might you go about getting and staying stoked? Then if all the end of days talk turns out to be a hoax, urban legend, or mass hysteria along the lines of a worldwide midnight meltdown at the turn of the new millennium , you’ll be way ahead on next year's resolutions!

I’d love nothing more than for you to share your New Year Name announcement here. 

May 2012 be all you claim it to be!