LIVE the CRY!

Words I shared at 5:30 this morning intended for a beautiful human who understands the needs of the world, sometimes through tears.

Every Morning a New Start - West Virginia Morning Photo credit ©Carole Harris
Every Morning a New Start – West Virginia Mornings

LIVE the CRY!

Embrace the cry. It is a sign that you follow your empathetic heart and many are not gifted with such deep empathy.

Believe in the cry. Your tears are for others who do not believe they can feel. Your feelings heal the world and yourself.

Love the cry. It is a gift that you love so deeply and that you strive to bring joy to the universe. Love and tears are the balance of humanity.

Be the cry. The cry is the purge when a kind heart and soul must share overflow with the world. Think of each tear as a way of putting kindness, empathy, love, and belief in humanity back into broken humanity.

We all need your cry. I used to hate it that I cry at everything. Now I believe that it just makes me a better human and that I have so much to share with the world that it overflows. At our point in our timeline, we have endured so much loss, pain, love, hate, empathy, disgust, and more. We need the cry!

Need your cry.

Be the cry.

Love the cry.

Believe in the cry.

Embrace the cry.

LIVE the cry!

Photo: Every Morning a New Start – West Virginia Morning Photo credit ©Carole Harris 

Resilience May Mean Taking a Moment to Pause

Try, try as you may, but never give up. Okay, great in theory. But in reality, what does that mean?

For me, it means that I have a resilience to never give up, no matter how far behind or how far away from my goals that I waiver. It means I have traveled through steps that have included anxiety, frustration, tears, epiphanies, excitement, small victories, and even joy in others’ own small victories. It is a continuous cycle. I’ve made really smart decisions and some pretty stupid ones. I mean, I’ve encountered challenging decisions that lead to taking a pause before continuing down an intended path.

Some days I feel like no matter what approach I take, I will never get enough business to survive. It seems that my time, work, and drive supported by my years of experience, my education, and my professional development does not always equate to financial stability. Even with the intangible satisfaction of helping others, I have those moments that weigh on me. They can be nearly damaging. If fact, they can really suck.

Other days, I feel pride in the successes of clients who have had their own moments of triumphs. I feel their joy when they express confidence that shines and glimmers from the priceless value of their gifts, knowledge, and abilities. I appreciate their tenacity and strength when I know how difficult it was for them to reach even the smallest steps. And I smile thinking about the part I may have played in that small step. I really do love the intangibles joys of coaching.

As I pour my angst out, where are the coaches who are like me? Where are their moments that they want to give up? Are they hiding from the world, ready to just go back to a job that limits their natural ability to calmly guide clients towards their own natural goals and careers? These are my daily questions because I know those coaches are out there. My theory is that they just don’t want to ruin the illusion that maybe coaches have those days, too. They just may tap into their own resilience until they are tapped out.

No matter how many times I question the set-backs or the days that seem frustrating, the answers always seem to still point me towards another client, another connection that just may bring revenue. But the struggle of self-employment is real. It seems to be filled with moments of not knowing where the next paying client is and when they will invest.

So here I sit at another month’s end with several things on my plate, yet compelled to write this expression of my moments. I face head-on the many directions the next moment could take me. And now I turn to the first on the list, applying for jobs with other companies, mostly because I give away more time than I get paid for. My time has become imaginary money that doesn’t pay the bills. My resilience has become the one thing that I ponder, whether it strengthens me or diminishes my purpose. Is the resilience taking a pause, or is it recharging for a stronger comeback?

Even with pause, the resilience shows through as I continue moving forward doing things for my own business. Those are things like putting out marketing in as many free places as possible and sending follow-up emails to discovery call/potential clients that seem to have fallen off the earth. I am attempting to submit quotes to potential clients in hopes that they actually respond. All this while I am trying to figure out where to magically uncover resources necessary to host potential informational sessions and events that could bring possible new clients.

My lack of invested clients surely isn’t from lack of follow-up. The careful balance of when and how to reconnect is a test in itself. I wonder constantly where are all of those potential clients who said they are going on my site to pay right now, yet all I hear are virtual crickets. I would even appreciate a curt “no.” because silence is not always golden. It has taught me that I sure know how to be optimistic in reoccurring situations.

One of the fundamental rules of business, you have to spend money to make money. It is a quandary, a challenge, an exploration of self, life, soul, and a constant fear of failure. So how do I get this money to spend to make the money to spend? Resilience, failure, change strategies, develop a more complex strategy, or is it so simple I cannot see it? The answer is there, real, and within reach, but the future must have been so bright I have become blinded by the light. Resilience is also always looking because you know you cannot turn away from potential. That potential is my light.

So, why let people in on the frustration I have as a coach? Well, it is real, it is who I am and, strangely enough, it is why I coach. Because everyone has those days that the “try as you may, but never give up” is just a bit harder than other days. It may just be my moment that I need to say I’m not a failure, but it is time to put this in a box and wait until I can financially support my gift and dream of helping others.

So here I sit in refection. I will continue to do my part to connect clients to their value, add confidence to their life and careers, and help each human to be better connected to each other. My goals stay the same, the objectives and steps become altered on this part of path as I seek a job with an income that supports those goals. And as always, I remain resilient while taking pause to manage the challenges.

“Never give up. Never surrender” – Jason Nesmith, Galaxy Quest, 1999

Carole

Coach, Human, Connector, Professional, Resilient

I Live Loss, I Write for Me: My Storyteller Voice Released

I Live Loss, I Write For Me ©Carole R. Harris ©caroleconnectstheworld.com
I Live Loss, I Write For Me
©Carole R. Harris ©caroleconnectstheworld.com

I Live Loss, I Write for Me: My Storyteller Voice Released

Wow! Eighteen years! It has seemed like both an eternity and like it was yesterday.

My life changed significantly on June 12th in 1999. I went from struggling in the day to day, complaining about long hours, how to feed the kids, and trivial things to suddenly learning about funeral logistics, managing grief of children, changes in family dynamics, and more. I lost my mother, my son, and my sister tragically on this date.

It never gets better, just manageable. I still wake up every morning wanting to include our son, hoping that it was just a mistake and he will walk through the door as a successful adult missing his parents. I wish the impact wasn’t so great on our other children. I wish they could truly feel what a normal childhood and young adult existence could have been, as it started out to be before that fateful day.

But no! They got the shit end of the deal. The outside impression is that they are great, successful, and assumed perfect.

Nope! It actually has not been perfect. We deal with stuff that we wish we couldn’t, shouldn’t, and didn’t have to. But we do, we manage, and we move forward, with or without Cristoffer present. Every day, each of us has struggled with this loss, with the pain, the mental anguish, the worry, the anxiety. Yet we function, and quite well, considering. We are blessed with jobs, education, friends, family, and so much more.

But it still hurts, it still messes up our moments. It created a disconnect, an unspoken anxiety, and so much that we don’t dare to share with others because they don’t deserve this pain.

It’s not my job to help others understand, and I am finally learning that. But if only I could get them to understand this hurt makes it so much harder for us, like pushing, pulling, and carrying rocks and boulders. That the strength they may think we have comes from the internal rocks and boulders we shuffle around. That losing children, siblings, and parents creates permanent dents and damage to so many things. That taking the extra moment to remember, to remind, to talk, to appreciate, and to stop running helps to strengthen and build connections and lighten the load of those boulders. The way to minimize that pain is to truly make time for a conversation for a meal, to share the moments with those who are most important.

I don’t ask for empathy for me or to have those conversations now. Actually, for some relationships, that bridge will never be the same, as it was tarnished in the selfishness that also happens after loss and tragedy. Not that it can’t be rebuilt, but the disconnect that was never wanted, yet has taught me much about people. All I can do is to appreciate the directions and the moments I know have.

I get angry! Especially when others don’t value life, family, relationships, and even the mementoes that we have to share, to remember those special to us, and to appreciate what we do have. Maybe they do value, but the lack of empathy for others’ ways of processing sucks to experience!

So, I am turning to writing, more and more. I have many pieces I have written that are yet to be published, because in the past I was concerned about others, their impression, their feelings, and impact. However, for me to move forward, my story deserves to be told. As I write, I can only remember from my aspect, my experiences, and my pain, joy, suffering, triumphs, and my life lens. It’s my time.

I only write this as a way as a remembrance of those I have lost, of the changes we constantly endure from that tragic day, the relationships that have been lost or changed because of the differences in grieving, and because shutting the door on my son is not the way I want to live my life.

I release the inner voice that is my storyteller who is waiting to share with those who need and want it. I will write Cristoffer’s continued story, the one that only includes him in spirit, yet continues his impact on our lives. I will write how he and our family traveled a path to the moment we lost him, and continued on after he was so abruptly taken from us. This is my permission to myself to write my story, regardless of others, in place of others, and in respect for my voice. I will be the storyteller that needs to be released.

As always and forever, please hug those close to you, love them just a little more, appreciate their faults as much as their gifts, and spread peace.

©Carole R. Harris ©caroleconnectstheworld.com

A MOTHER’S NOTE: TREASURED BIRTHDAY LISTS

A MOTHER’S NOTE: Treasured Birthday Lists

By Carole R. Harris

As a mother who has lost a child too soon, the value of each moment, item, award, article of clothing, token, email, photo, conversation, and everything they once touched becomes more important and gains a priceless value beyond earthly understanding. The same may be said for parents, siblings, and other loved ones who are taken from us; everything they touched and impacted gains a new value, place, and becomes priceless treasure. A Mother’s Note: Treasured Birthday Lists

I have many of these treasures, yet never enough, as I never expected to lose our child after having him with us for a mere 10 years, lose my sister at age 25, or lose my mother without moments to say good-bye. I always wish to have had more of the tangible and intangible gifts from him and the others we have lost along our journey.

Searching through old emails, I found this ever-so-important one sent April 16, 1999. It was sent 10 days before his 10th birthday in 1999, eighteen years ago this past week. His 28th birthday is next week on the 27th. Four primary characters in this email, and in my story, are no longer here with us. Like many treasures I happen across periodically, this is a piece of their profile and their touch upon history. Hilda the email sender and my youngest sister, Cristoffer second child of our four children, and my mother passed away in a car accident nearly two months after this email was sent. My father, also in the accident, passed away 7 years ago after years of carrying a broken heart so long.

At the time of this birthday, we were working many hours and didn’t have time to shop. We also did not have the money to gift him this detailed adventure pack. We did, however, promise him summer basketball camp that he never got to attend. Looking at the list, he did acquire some of the things before the accident like second-hand roller blades, an amazing tent, and the protective gear (he was all-about safety). Later, our other children received some of the things like the golf clubs/bag and the trampoline.

The importance of this share and story is to value every moment as if it will be re-lived by a loved one, re-read by a stranger, and treasured now and years later.

You never know what may be treasure to others and important to the stories to be told. Thank you, Hilda, for this treasured story.

A Mother’s Note: Treasured Birthday Lists

Carole Connects the World!

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Sharing life’s challenges, opportunities, joys, pain, and just life itself!

I finally came to the conclusion I was trying too hard to take the professional road to get to the what I really want to be road. I wanted to be that perfect business person that my parents and my family could be proud of. However, I am just not there yet and I now believe that it is because I have misdirected myself. Time to recalculate my GPS and take a different path on my journey.

So, here it is. This is my personal site. A site that I can and will write. And I will write what I want and I feel. It will be my platform for content I should have been writing about for years.

When I left my job in March of 2014, I thought I had the right drive, the right motivation, the right experience, and the right business plan. Well, life got in the way in ways I never expected. I became psychologically, professionally, and emotionally paralyzed. I never let anyone know that it was harder than I expected and that I wasn’t as successful as I had expected. My clients never knew, my family never knew, and I kept fooling myself that the next sales pitch was the one. Well, it didn’t happen with the success that pays the bills. But isn’t that the way it goes? Or is it that I just didn’t try hard enough, sacrifice enough?

The business I ventured into is life and career coaching. Who’d of thunk I’d be a life and career coach? I am really happy and blessed that I have had the opportunity to be and to continue being a life and career coach, and now a business coach. I came to love what I do and I’ve helped many people. I have helped more than a hundred, whether paid or mostly unpaid. I write phenomenal resumes and cover letter. I can walk into a room or have a conversation over the phone and feel comfortable talking to anyone, anywhere. I talk to people I don’t know from all over the country and it feels comfortable. I have turned my clients’ confidence around and I have really connected with what it means to be a coach, beyond the training and rhetoric.

Was it me? Was it life? Was I not ready? What happened? 

What happened along the way was my heart and my soul are too generous and I have trouble saying, “Pay me for my services. This is my job, not a charity!” I really suck at the sales part. I can’t figure out why, I just do. Maybe it’s because I care too  much. Maybe because most of my clients have no jobs, are between jobs, or they are just desperate for any help no matter what. So I love my job, I do well at it, but I cannot pay the bills with the path I have been on. I went broke so others wouldn’t. And it’s just about done me in.

I only blame myself. I wanted to use the coaching to help others, to gain confidence so that I could use it to have the funds to be able to write, and so that I could begin public speaking. I hate being selfish, so maybe that’s part of the story. If you would have asked me years ago, I would have said I never wanted any of the coaching or public speaking, that it would compromise me or my family somehow.

But here’s the kicker, there’s this strange pull, yearning, and push nagging me to write, to share my stories of life, and to speak in front of people to try to inspire or connect. It’s more than a nagging, it’s like my parents are seriously disappointed that I’m not doing it, that my potential they always talked about can only be justified if I write and make it my profession. Okay, that sounds crazy. But…maybe.

I’m not complaining at all. I know this is me and I know it’s what I have done to me and my household. I crashed. I truly, truly, finally crashed. I emotionally, physically, mentally, and spiritually have crashed. I have nowhere to go but up. Up to rebuild, to restart, to grow a new path for me professionally, personally, spiritually, and finally emotionally.

When spending many, many years holding up worlds that are crumbling, such as the loss of child, the hostility of a workplace, the dysfunction of a team, the disconnection of relationships, and so much more, the foundation eventually gives way and the contractors and architects have to come together to decide to rebuild, redesign, and reallocate resources to create a better, stronger, and more universal structure.

Now it that time for me to rebuild and it is happening through this compilation of honesty, raw moments, and my own passion for being me. It has to. I cannot deny what I have been through for the sake of real life and real living. And the stories must live beyond my thoughts, because they are real and they have happened to me. At least from my view.

I want to let others know that it’s okay to hate the moment you’re in, but the next one could be the best moment of your moments. That the tragedy you are going through will open your heart, mind, and soul to new paths and experiences that will help you understand and appreciate so much more of what you are here for. And the challenges help you see who you are here for and what they need you to be for them and for yourself. I may not connect with you and you may not connect with me, but I know this is right.

Finally, this is right! It doesn’t make much sense until your are either in the middle of the muck or just on the other side. If you don’t like this book, than maybe you need to choose a different author. After all, I am the author of my stories and will be the author of my book!

Peace, Love, and Understanding…

“You’ll never get anywhere if you go about what-iffing like that.”

– Willy Wonka, Roald Dahl’s Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator 

Life gave me a path, but my GPS keeps recalculating!