06/16/2024

Pacing. That’s what my coach often has me work on. She reminds me to breathe and slow down. I like fast, but I also like slow.

Ariana, a lifelong friend, was having a 50^th birthday party.  I couldn’t make it with my schedule and the distance; she lives 2100 miles away. So, I asked, “What if we celebrated in the summer by hiking a stretch of the AT?”

The Appalachian Trail, consequently also 2100 miles, stretches from Georgia to Maine and even winds its way through the eastern part of my home state of Pennsylvania. I love hiking, I love the east coast (and it’s humidity), and I love her. We made a plan.

Ariana and I have several similarities; we both are ENFJ in Myer’s Briggs, both of our moms are therapists and share the same name, and we had the same major of International Studies in our college in Ohio. Just before our trek, I was reminded of our differences.

“When we hike, can we commit to a reasonable pace, the whole time?” she asked, knowing my tendency to be hard-charging. She takes her time with meals, leisurely taking bites in between conversation and pauses. She enjoys sitting and savoring the view on mountaintops. I grew up in PA in a family that had already finished our drive-thru Big Macs before we were out of the McDonald’s parking lot. 

When my Arizona-dwelling mother-in-law was recently given the prognosis of 3 months to live, I was heavy hearted. In between the sadness I started wondering, “What would I change if I only had 3 months to live?” My pacing. Having more space between things. Having more space for creativity, noticing, and just breathing. I wanted a change that didn’t just live in some of my days.

So, I got hours and hours of trail-based coaching on the topic. Spending time with another coach, especially with miles and miles in front of us, lead us to lots of deep dives and unpacking, as we sometimes say, and so many damn questions. As we hiked, covered in tick repellant through West Virginia & Virginia; Stonyman, Milam Gap & Mary’s Rock in Shenandoah National Park & near Harper’s Ferry, I got some clarity.

Ariana says that I have a strong motor. I do intentional work to put on the brakes & she works to pump the gas pedal. I once held onto a compliment for years that I can get twice as much done in ½ the time of regular people. I am an Enneagram 3, which is “the achiever.” My default is fast & a lot.

But it’s really not my preferred way to be 100% of the time.  I have many modes.

When I was a kid, I was quieter. Living in Japan when I was pre-school aged, I mostly played with friends through actions, not words. I can easily sink into vacation mode, filled with naps and reading. With coaching, I listen much more than I talk, and I’ve even been called calm. Folks who have more energy and speed that I do exhaust me. I’m drawn to introverts. I love mindful time to write and reflect. I visit a personal trainer once per week, and he says that 90% of the time I come in like a bat out of hell. My life is filled with people, all day. And I love learning from them and supporting them. I like to lead, and I like to follow. I like to plan, and also be spontaneous. I seem to be so many things.

With this yin and yang both living so strongly within me, she asked, “What do you really want?” Peace & space, I said. “Are you sure you really want that because the way you busy yourself, that doesn’t seem true.”  Screw you, I thought. My defensiveness meant we were onto something.

Busy-ness has many different brands.  The most common one I hear about is how for over-achievers, accomplishment provides worthiness.  Productivity means you matter. But this is not my brand.

Here’s what I discovered: my busy-ness default is tied to responsibility. I feel a need to do my part, pull my weight, and not let people down.

So, peace and space, to me, means carving out time that doesn’t involve expectations and the needs of others. Sometimes said expectations and needs are stated, but often they are just my assumptions. Peace and space, for me, doesn’t mean that I want more time to sit quietly looking at the sunset, but to have the true freedom to choose.

I have 2 challenges. My default of fast and a lot and my ecosystem of driven entrepreneurs encourages it. I have to fight the current. I am a work in progress.

In coaching & training rooms, I frequently hear people saying things like they need a vacation from their vacation. All day long I help people to get clarity & set intention so that they won’t fall prey to their hamster wheel. Now it’s my turn.

I once asked a coach of mine, “Why, after setting this goal and experiencing success, have I reverted to not prioritizing it?” It was about exercise, or organization, or something I can’t totally remember. She said, “Because that’s just what humans do. Now that you are having some quiet, evaluate. Recommit. Don’t recommit. The choice is entirely yours, but don’t be unrealistic, thinking that this isn’t the natural cycle of goals.”

It’s become time again. As of late, I’ve fallen off the proverbial wagon (the peace & space wagon, in my case) & am ready to recommit. I certainly don’t want to throw the baby out with the bathwater. I love serving & having drive. I see my energy as a tremendous blessing. I just want to choose when to use it and notice or shift gears when I am overutilizing it and verging on being frenetic or ultra-dehydrated because I just want to say or do one more thing. I want to be in my own driver’s seat. I want to pull over before I’m running on fumes.

As I am prioritizing some non-work activities, I currently have a Spanish tutor and am brushing up. I am on the right track. A phrase that I recently learned that seems to sum all of this up: Yo decido la vibra. I decide the vibe.