Where and What is Your "Utah?"

"Other people have analysis. I have Utah." - Robert Redford One of the most important epiphanies from my Year by the Water was that we don't have to be anti-social to be pro-solitude.

What do I mean by that?

Well, last April I was driving out in the middle of nowhere listening to the Audible version of Gloria Steinem’s memoir, My Life on the Road.

I had always pictured Texas as hot, flat and barren. But this was spring. Much to my surprise, everything was green, rolling, vibrant. I didn't know what was over the next knoll, all I knew was it was going to be something interesting I'd never seen before.

I was driving at golden hour - that blessed hour right before the sun goes down and the air shimmers with special light. I came over a rise and there, stretched out to the horizon, were golden fields. I gasped out loud at the sheer beauty of it, pulled over, shut off the car engine and stepped outside to bask in its splendor. The only sound was a slight breeze through the leaves of a nearby tree.

I will always remember that exquisite experience. I can still see it in my mind's eye months later.

I got back in the car and resumed driving while listening to Gloria share stories and insights from her life. She quoted Virginia Woolf who believed, "Every woman needs a room of her own."

I laughed out loud as I realized, "I have a ROAD of my own."

I truly revel in my independence. To me, an open road means freedom, autonomy, the opportunity to go anywhere I want when I want to. It's esstential to life feeling right.

I stopped at a steak house that night for dinner. The waiter asked where I was from, and I told him about driving cross-country visiting bodies of water and writing about them. He was intrigued and asked where I'd been that day. I told him about my experience with the golden fields.

He said, somewhat incredulous, "You're doing this by yourself? Aren't you lonely??

I told him, "I'm never lonely as long as I'm paying attention."

He persisted, "I wouldn't want to drive cross-country unless I had someone to share it with. It seems like it'd be kind of an empty experience."

I smiled because, to me, that experience wasn't empty, it was alive. There wasn't absence, there was presence.

I told him, "Connection isn't just with people. I was connected to those fields and with that moment. I've found that as long as I'm appreciating what I'm seeing, feeling, thinking and hearing, I'm never really alone."

I could tell he didn't relate to what I was saying. When I got back on the road, I asked myself, "Why is it that I crave space? Why is that I don't feel "bereft" when I'm by myself?"

I think part of it is I feel connected to loved ones even when we're not together. The connection I have with my loved ones exists even when we're miles apart. They're with me ... even when they're not with me.

The fact is, I am an ambivert. I enjoy being with people and I enjoy not being with people. I am both a public person and a private person.

Being around smart, talented, interesting people energizes me. And exploring new places and spaces on my own energizes me. It's not an either-or, it's both. Socialization and solitude are two sides of the coin of a creatively productive life.

What I know fur sure is that I need time and space to "mull and muse."

What do I mean by "mull and muse?" Time and space to reflect on what I've seen, heard, read. Time to roll thoughts around in my head. To observe the world around me from all angles. To savor ideas and insights like you would a ripe piece of fruit. To connect dot thoughts in new ways.

Perhaps my favorite example of someone who also seemed to operate best with a mix of socialization and solitude was ... Abraham Lincoln.

Several years ago, I was hired to train the board of Entrepreneurs Organization in public speaking. As a special treat, they arranged for a private group dinner at Lincoln’s Cottage in Washington DC following our day-long training.

I got there an hour before the others arrived. The first thing I noticed as I walked in was how "spare" the cottage was. Each room had only a few items. A desk. A chair. A small table with a lamp. It was as if the walls were whispering, "Space to think. Space to think."

I instantly got it. This was where Lincoln came to be alone with his thoughts. Where he escaped the pressures of the White House and found much-needed solitude to reflect upon our history and create a visionary document that changed the course of our nation.

I don't imagine Lincoln felt "lonely" while writing that magnum opus. I imagine his mind and soul were on fire. I imagine he welcomed the opportunity to write without distractions.

I had a great life before I took off for my Year by the Water. However, like many people, I was going, going, going. There weren't many opportunities to be alone with my thoughts ... much less to reflect on them or write about them. I now have that time ... and I honor it.

Many creatives talk about their need for head space so they can do original work. Being alone is when they are able to dig deep - without interruption - and envision new ideas, original art, innovative break-throughs. It is where they access the exquisite state of flow.

Yet in today's "crazy busy" world, too few of us have time for contemplation. That's why I'm sharing these inspiring quotes about the importance of making time and space for ideation.

I hope these quotes catalyze insight - maybe even a conversation with friends and family members - about why you crave a room or road of your own to connect with your creativity.

And I hope you never again feel a need to apologize for needing space. It's not selfish, it's smart. Solitude and socialization are not mutually exclusive; they are the best of both worlds.

1. "The only time we waste is the time we spend thinking we're alone." - Mitch Albom

2. ”We need society, and we need solitude, as we need summer and winter, day and night, exercise and rest.” – Phillip G. Hamerton

3. ”Being solitary is being alone well: luxuriously immersed in doings of your own choice, aware of the fullness of your own presence rather than of the absence of others.” Alice Koller

4. ”To go out with the setting sun on an empty beach is to truly embrace your solitude.” – Jeanne Moreau

5. ”The more powerful and original a mind, the more it will incline towards the religion of solitude.” - Aldous Huxley

6. ”It is only in solitude that I ever find my own core.” – Anne Morrow Lindbergh

7. ”When you acknowledge the integrity of solitude, and settle into its mystery, your relationships with others take on a new warmth, adventure and wonder.” – John O’Donahue

8. ”Women need real moments of solitude and self-reflection to balance out how much of ourselves we give away.” – Barbara de Angelis

9. ”Who hears music feels his solitude peopled at once.” – Robert Browning

10. "Loneliness expresses the pain of being alone; solitude expresses the glory of being alone." - Paul Tillich

11. "Alone had always felt like an actual place to me, as if it weren't a state of being, but rather a room where I could retreat to be who I really was.” —Cheryl Strayed

Where and what is your Utah? Where do you retreat to be yourself by yourself?

Pablo Picasso said, "The meaning of life is to find your gift. The purpose is to give it away."

Please understand that part of of your legacy is contributing your gifts - your writing, startup, art, songs, screenplay, painting, sculpture, art, music, solutions, vision.

How, when and where will you give yourself a room - or road - of your own?

When will you temporarily "escape" from people and schedule in time for creative solitude so you can muse and mull your reflections, experiences, insights, stories?

It's not a luxury, it's a necessity. It's not indulgent, it's an investment.

Is It SELFISH To Do What Makes You HAPPY?

“My happiness is on me; so you’re off the hook.” – Byron Katie Have you ever driven California’s spectacular Pacific Coast Highway? If so, you’re familiar with its many hairpin turns. In the day, you can see what’s ahead and adapt accordingly.

But I made a big mistake and got there at dusk. And what happened taught me a BIG lesson about the dangers of a “put other people first” default.

During the day, you can look ahead and adapt to the hairpin turns. But it was pitch black with no moon, which meant I couldn't see anything. The switchbacks kept disappearing out from underneath my headlights. I had no idea what was coming next. Left. Right. Left. Left. It felt like my brain was sloshing back and forth in my skull. I completely lost my equilibrium even though I was crawling along at 15-20 mph.

I kept telling myself, “I can do this, I can do this. Three hours from now, I’ll be safe and sound in my Morro Bay hotel room.”

Suddenly, a truck zoomed up behind me and flashed its brights. I did what I’d been taught to do growing up in a small mountain valley. I looked for the next pull-out and pulled off the road to let the driver behind me go ahead.

The problem was, the pull-out was shorter than anticipated... and gravel. I started braking. I started sliding. The harder I braked, the more I slid. I finally came to a stop a few feet from the cliff’s edge.

I sat there and shook. The truck was long gone. It was just me, the deserted road, (and I know this sounds dramatic but it's true), my realization that my lifelong default of putting other people first had just about cost me my life.

Sound familiar? Is your default, “No, you go ahead. You go first.”

If you’re a parent, caregiver or leader, this may have become your norm. You may feel it’s your responsibility to put your family, your patients, your employees first.

At what cost? Putting everyone else first and yourself last is an extreme, and any extreme is unhealthy. It causes you to lose your equilibrium. To compromise your own health. To sacrifice your own happiness. And what's worse, it teaches the people around you that you believe you don’t count, that your needs don't matter.

Is that what you want to teach? Is martyrdom the model you want to pass along?

That close call on Hwy 1 made me wonder, “Where did I learn this? How did I learn this?”

Well, as with many things, it started at home. My mom was an example of unconditional love. She was also sick the last twenty years of her life, dealing with the effects of Multiple Sclerosis (which was later discovered to have been a misdiagnosed brain tumor.)

My mom was in pain almost every day. If I put my hand anywhere near her neck, I could feel the pain waves vibrating off it. Yet, she didn’t want to be “a burden” so she soldiered on. I would ask, “Can I help with dinner, Mom? Want me to do the dishes?”

“No thanks, hon, I’ve got it.”

She rarely, if ever, talked about her illness. She didn’t want to be a “complainer.” She always wanted to know what we were doing, what was going on with our lives. She never asked for anything for herself. If we offered, she usually demurred, not wanting to “put us out.”

My mom did what she thought was the right thing, at great personal cost. What we learned from her example though was probably not what she intended.

Yes, we received and learned about unconditional love, and I will always be grateful for that.

We also learned to not ask for help or accept help. We learned to be “strong” and not share our pain. We learned that the last thing we wanted to be was a “burden.” We learned that putting other people's happiness first, and not thinking of our own, was the noble thing, the right thing, to do.

Serving others IS a noble thing. And it’s even more noble when we balance it with serving ourselves. That’s what we want to model – that we take care of ourselves while taking care of others.

How about you? Are you running on empty? Burnout is a clear sign you’re not enforcing your boundaries - or that you don’t have any boundaries. Exhaustion is an indication you are putting everyone else first – and yourself last.

Next time you’re about to say "No, you go ahead. You go first," next time you're about to take yourself out of the equation, ask yourself:

· Am I putting this person’s needs first and not even considering my own?

· Am I sacrificing what I want to give this person what s/he wants?

· Is this a one-time thing – or an ongoing pattern?

· How will this impact me in the moment and over the long term?

· Is there a way I can serve this person and myself at the same time?

· How can I take responsibility for – and speak up on behalf of – my own health and happiness?

Jack Kornfield said, “If your compassion does not include yourself, it is incomplete.”

Starting today, please understand, it is not selfish to put yourself in your own story, it’s smart.

It’s not indulgent to take responsibility for your own health and happiness, it’s inspiring .

Every time you do, you show it’s possible to serve others and ourselves, and you set a precedent that gives people around you permission and inspiration to do the same.

Are You Taking Yourself Out of Your Own Story?

One reason I'm calling my new book SOMEDAY is not a Day in the Week is because it’s sad to see how many people are working themselves to death, thinking they'll relax and enjoy themselves when things aren't so crazy at work. I’m not making that up. A 2015 Atlantic article reports that job-related stress is the #5 killer in the U.S, causing more deaths than Alzheimer’s and diabetes.

People promise to take better care of themselves when they're not so busy. What if that day never comes?

While on my Year by the Water, I had a crucible moment that demonstrated (rather dramatically) the consequences of putting everyone else first. Hope this story motivates you to put yourself back in your own story and do something this week that brings you joy.

My plan for the day was to drive California’s Pacific Coast Highway from Monterey to Morro Bay. However, work responsibilities came up that morning, so it was late afternoon before I hit the road. I didn’t think much about it until the sun went down and it got dark. And when I say dark, I mean no moon. no light.

If you've taken this spectacular drive, you know about its many hairpin turns. In the day, you can see what’s ahead and adapt accordingly. But it was pitch black which meant I couldn’t see beyond my headlights. I completely lost my equilibrium because I had no idea what was coming up next.

What made it worse was the road often narrowed to one lane because of construction to fix damage caused by recent landslides. The only thing between me and a thousand foot drop down to the rocks below was a rather flimsy looking guardrail.

A truck zoomed up behind me and flashed its brights. I did what I always did, what I’d been taught to do growing up in a small mountain valley. I looked for the next pull-out and pulled over to let the driver behind me go by.

The only problem? The pull-out was gravel. And shorter than anticipated. I braked and started sliding. I finally came to a stop a couple feet from the cliff’s edge.

I sat there and shook. The truck was long gone. It was just me, the road, and my realization that my default of putting others first had just about cost me my life.

Does any of this sound familiar? That was a rather extreme example of "selflessness," but on some level, is your default to put others’ needs before your own? At what cost?

If you’re a business owner, executive, parent or team leader, this may have become your norm.

Somewhere along the way, was it modeled for you that the meaning of life is to be found in service? There are hundreds of quotes perpetuating this belief that serving others is the right thing, the noble thing, to do.

For example, Gandhi said, “The best way to find yourself is to lose yourself in the service of others.”

Yet serving others at the cost of ourselves is an extreme … and any extreme is unhealthy.

Self-sacrifice comes at a price. We lose our equilibrium and end up compromising our health and happiness. What's worse is that when we habitually take ourselves out of our own story, we teach the people around us we don’t matter, that what we want and need doesn’t count.

Is that what we want to teach? Is martyrdom the model we want to pass along?

A college counselor told me, “Sam, I don’t have kids, but I do have students. Many are away from home for the first time. They’re lonely, confused and overwhelmed. My heart goes out to them, so I’ve given some my home phone number so they can call if they’re having a tough time. Good idea in theory, not so good in practice. I spend many evenings on the phone mitigating one crisis afterhonoring another. My husband is starting to resent this and I can’t blame him. Plus, I’m getting burned out because I never get a chance to recharge.”

I told her, “Good for you for being there for your students. The question is, are you also being there for yourself? Think about the Law of Unintended Consequences. What we accept, we teach. What are you teaching by not honoring your health and by not having any boundaries around your time and access?”

“But I feel so sorry for these kids. They all have a story.”

“I understand. However, you’re thinking only of their story and not your own. Where are you in this story?”

“But I can’t just cut them off and turn my back on them.”

“I’m not suggesting you be selfish and think only of yourself. I'm suggesting you serve others and yourself. Create some boundaries with metrics. If your boundaries don’t have numbers in them, they’re not boundaries. Instead of being available to your students every single night, what is a fairer balance?”

Suffice it to say, we created a written policy around her “evening office hours” that she posted and handed to her students. They still have an option to contact her in case of an emergency, otherwise there's a step-by-step process for how they can schedue time with her on campus.

She contacted me later to say our conversation, and her new policy, taught her a valuable lesson. “I never realized how much I was devaluing myself by focusing exclusively on my students’ needs. I see now that my compassion for them was at the cost of compassion for myself. My husband thanks you, I thank you." She laughed, "Someday, my students may even thank you for having someone model for them that it’s not selfish to put ourselves in our own story, it’s smart.”

How about you? Are you running on empty? Burnout is a clear sign we’re not enforcing our boundaries. It’s a clear sign we are people-pleasing and putting everyone else first – and ourselves last.

The good news is, it’s not too late to change this default.

Next time you’re about to say yes when you want to say no – next time you’re about to give in and go along instead of speaking up for what’s important to you – next time you're about to compromise your health or safety with "No, you go ahead. You go first" .... STOP!

You matter. What you want and need counts. You can be responsible to others and to yourself. You can serve others and yourself.

Put yourself back in your own story. It’s not selfish. It’s smart.

Day Right Quote #54: Stop Trying to Make Everyone Happy. You're Not Chocolate

I’m working on a chapter in my new book – Chase Meaning Not Clicks – about the futility of people-pleasing. One of the unexpected themes from my Year by the Water was how many people are taking themselves out of the game of life. They are neglecting their own needs and taking care of everyone BUT themselves. These are good people who are putting aside their own priorities because they have “responsibilities” to take care of.

I believe it’s important to be responsible; to think of others, to care for others.

I also believe that, taken to an extreme, trying to make everyone happy can become our Achilles Hell. (Not a typo). Self-sacrifice doesn’t serve anyone.

Please understand, I’m not suggesting we think only of ourselves and what we want. That is an equally unhealthy extreme.

But putting everyone else first - every time, all the time - is a prescription for regrets.

This insight “Stop trying to make everyone happy. You’re not chocolate” (or pasta, or pizza, take your pick) makes the point with humor.

Trying to make everyone happy makes no one happy. (This post shows an example of how I learned this.)

Are you a team leader, parent, project manager, caretaker, writer or creative? Are you trying to make everyone happy? As Dr. Phil says, "How's that working for you?"

Put yourself in the mix. You have value. You have your own voice, talents, contributions, experience, expertise, perspective and unique take on the world.

It is FAIR and NEEDED for you to honor and contribute your own abilities, insights and gifts. This is true on and off the job – at work, at home and in your community.

We serve best when we serve others AND our self. The goal is to keep things in balance, always in balance.

Day Right Quote #53: Don't You Know Yet? It is Your Light that Lights the World

When I present SerenDestiny programs, people often ask, "Isn't it selfish to do what you really want?" I tell them, "it is if you exclude everyone else's needs and priorities.

But many of us are doing the opposite of that.

We're honoring everyone else's needs and priorities and ignoring our own."

As Rumi said, "Don't you know yet? Is is YOUR light that lights the world.

This is probably one of the most important lessons-learned from my Year by the Water ... It is not selfish to put ourselves in our own story, it's smart.

It is not an indulgence to do what puts the light on in your eyes and fills you with joy - it is an example that inspires others to do the same.

In fact, here's how I learned that lesson.

Hope it inspires you to shine your light on and in the world.

Day Right Quote #42: My Happiness Depends On Me; So You're Off the Hook

This quote from Esther Hicks is one of THE most important lessons of my #life. When I told my adult sons I was embarking on My Year by the Water, they were thrilled. They told me, "We've got this. The best thing you can do for us is to be HAPPY."

In other words, "We can take care of ourselves. It's time to start taking care of YOU."

When are we going to understand that one of the greatest gifts we can give our loved ones is to be happy and healthy and have the light on in our eyes?

Albert Schweitzer said, "In influencing others, example is not the main thing. It is the ONLY thing."

It's not selfish to do what fills you with joy, you are setting an example for others that THIS is how life is supposed to look.

When we go first and lead a life we love, it gives others permission to do the same.

Lesson #10. It Wasn't a Mid-Life Crisis; It was Mid-Life Clarity

When I announced my plans to embark upon my Year by the Water adventure, most people were happy for me and said something along the lines of, “Take me with you!” A few, however, expressed “concerns. A meeting planner cautioned me with, “Sam, I hope you know you’re taking a risk by taking yourself off the grid. You need to control this story or the business you’ve worked so hard to build may not be here when you come back. You know, you can’t put the genie back in the bottle.”

A highly successful investor told me, "I'm envious, but I could never just do nothing. I'd go crazy if I didn't work."

Another wanted to know, “Is something wrong?” In other words, “Are you sick, on your deathbed or just having a mid-life crisis?”

I listened to their concerns, and then assured them my decision to take my business on a road trip wasn’t a mid-life CRISIS, it was mid-life CLARITY. I was clear that:

I wasn’t QUITTING work – I was doing a different KIND of work.

I wasn’t doing NOTHING – I was doing SOMETHING that put the light on in my eyes just thinking about it.

There wasn’t anything WRONG with my life – I was taking steps to create a more RIGHT life.

And I certainly wasn’t going to hide this from my business community, I was going to invite them to come along so they could vicariously experience the adventures and insights with me.

What helped me get this mid-life clarity?

Well, a lot of things. One was something my son Andrew told me. Another was a health scare and the doctor warning me I better take better care of myself or my body would do something more drastic to get my attention.

Another was a variety of quotes that served as wake-up calls and motivated me to “get a move on.”

They included Paulo Coelho’s sober reminder, “One day you’re going to wake up and there won’t be any time left to do the things you’ve always wanted to do.”

Another was my clarity of how fortunate I am to be in a position to answer what called me.

I’m not one of the 65 million people (29% of the U.S. population) taking care of a chronically ill, disabled or aged friend or family member. I can operate my business from anywhere. And while I’m not independently wealthy, I’m wealthy in what matters. I have the health, freedom and autonomy to disrupt my life and do things differently.

There was nothing holding me back … so I took eighteen months to swim with dolphins, watch the sun rise over Diamond Head, take a photography workshop in Monet’s Garden, sail the Chesapeake Bay, drive the back-roads of America (and almost over a cliff on California’s Pacific Coast Highway) ... write about my experiences and epiphanies.

I will always be grateful for that adventure. It was one of the most deeply satisfying experiences of my life.

What I didn't anticipate was My Year by the Water ended up NOT being about the water.

Yes, I visited some of nature's wonders - oceans, waterfalls, mountain streams - but what made this experience so memorable and pivotal wasn't the places I visited; it was the disruptive epiphanies that challenged everything I thought I knew about what it takes to lead a meaningful life.

Aristotle said, “An unexamined life is not worth living."

Well, after going 24/7 for the past few decades, this trip gave me the time and space to reflect on my life.

What I discovered, much to my surprise, was that many of my life-long beliefs and behaviors like “It’s better to give than receive” and “Winners never quit and quitters never win” "Hard work is the secret to success" – were not contributing to a quality life; they were compromising it.

As a result of having time to examine what was working, what wasn’t and what I was going to do differently; my life has been enriched in ways that are better than I could have imagined.

I know you’re busy and may not have the incentive or resources to take a road trip.The good news? You don’t have to quit your job, win the lottery, get a divorce or walk away from your obligations to embark upon a "virtual" road trip. In my upcoming book Chase Meaning Not Clicks, you can vicariously experience those put-you-in-the-scene adventures in short chapters, all which can be read in under 10 minutes.

What's even better, ou don't have to wait for the book to come out in early 2018 to benefit from those insights. Here are my top ten lessons-learned. Hope they give you the CLARITY, incentive and inspiration to do more of what puts the light on in your eyes starting today ... not someday.

1. A Life We Love Is Often One Small Change Away

2. We’re Not Torn Between Two Worlds – We Have the Best of Both Worlds

3. Why Do We Keep Driving Into Hurricanes?

4. If We’re Lonely, We’re Not Paying Attention

5. Courage Is Trusting We Can Figure Things Out Along the Way

6. It’s Not Selfish To Put Yourself in Your Own Story

7. There Is No Present Like The Time To Do More of What Puts The Light On In Your Eyes

8. Figure Out What You Want to Do NEXT and Start Doing It NOW

9. Fun Is Not a Four-Letter Word

- - - -

One of the great joys of my life is having the opportunity to share my adventures/insights at conferences. If you're planning a program and would like a presentation that gives your participants an opportunity to connect, reflect, and identify what they can do to stop waiting and start creating a life where the light is on in their eyes, contact Cheri@IntrigueAgency.com. It'd be a pleasure and a privilege to share these inspiring stories with your group so they're creating the quality of life and work they want now, not someday.

Is It Time to Put Yourself In Your Own Story?

Do you know what my son Tom said when I told him I was taking my business on the road for a Year by the Water? “So, you’re finally going to put yourself in the story.”

Wow. What an interesting and astute observation.

I'm not the only one who took myself out of my own story.

I encountered many people on my travels who were putting everyone else first, themselves last.

They wistfully talked about the dreams they’d put on hold.

Many said they’re so busy taking care of everyone else, they don't have the time or energy to take care of themselves.

They had bills to pay, kids to raise, projects at work, parents with health challenges …the list goes on.

Some seemed to think it’s selfish to do something – even once a week – that makes them happy.

Sound familiar?

One of the most important epiphanies from my Year by the Water is that doing something that puts the light on in our eyes is not selfish; it’s smart.

And we don’t have to quit our job, win the lottery or walk away from our obligations to do this. We can do something that puts the light on in our eyes even if it's once a month. Even if it’s for an hour or two.

It’s not indulgent to do more of makes us happy – whether that’s to curl up with a good book or get back into a hobby we used to love - it’s inspiring. It sets a precedent and gives the people around us permission and incentive to do the same.

What did you give up because you got busy or were told it was selfish?

What used to bring you joy you no longer have time for?

What did you abandon because you were told it "wouldn't pay the bills?"

Bring it back into your life.

It's not too late to become, as Charles Bukowski says, "the person you wanted to be before the world told you what you should be."

Trust that everyone wins when you take responsibility for doing something that lights you up.

You will never regret putting yourself back in the story of your life; you will only regret not doing it sooner.

What My Sons Taught Me about Asking for What I Really Want

I had an opportunity to meet up with my son, Andrew, who lives in NYC, recently.

Andrew knows I've been eating healthier these days, so he made reservations for, what I found out later, is considered one of the area's finest vegan restaurants. Since NYC is one of the food capitals of the world, that's saying something.

I arrived early and looked over what I thought was the menu. There was only 12 items on it and nothing I wanted to eat. It was succotash here, tofu there, broccoli everywhere. Nothing looked even vaguely appetizing or palatable to me.

Please know, I realize this place is a goldmine to veggie-lovers. However, up until 6 months ago, I would head the other direction at the first sign of peas and their brethren.

Then, I discovered, much to my amazement and delight, you can blend spinach (spinach!) and kale (KALE!) into a green smoothie and it actually tastes good … and is good for you.

Suffice it to say, this was a mini-miracle after 50+ years of avoiding vegetables. It’s changed my diet, my body and my life. Thank you Wildfit!

Back to the restaurant. The only thing I see on the menu I think I can get down is linguine with clam sauce. Andrew texts that he’s running late and suggests I go ahead and order for us. I do.

Andrew arrives with his ever-present skateboard. One of the many things I love about Andrew is he actually scoots around Brooklyn and Manhattan on a skateboard. Geesh, he even takes his surfboard on the subway to Rockaway Beach to re-unite with the ocean and get in some waves. As the saying goes, you can take the boy out of Maui, you can’t take Maui out of the boy.

I digress. Back to the restaurant, again. Our food arrives. Andrew takes one look at my steaming pile of linguine and says, “Mom, I thought you weren’t eating pasta.”

“I’m not.”

Double-take. Andrew looks at me, looks at the pasta. “Then, why did you order the pasta?”

“Andrew, it’s no big deal.”

He looks at me in consternation. “Mom, it is a big deal. You say you’re not eating pasta, but you just ordered pasta. I don’t get it.”

I try to brush this aside, to focus on what I think is important. “Andrew, really, let’s just have our meal. We only have a little more than an hour together before I need to Uber to the train.”

Andrew persists, “Mom, why did you order something you didn’t want?”

I can see he isn’t going to let this go (good for him) so I try to explain my thought process.

I said, “Andrew, I didn’t see anything on the menu I wanted, but we only see each other every few months, and we only have a little bit of time tonight, and I didn’t want to make an issue of it. So I ordered the only thing I thought I could eat.”

Here’s what he says. “Mom, do you know what a mixed message that sends?”

Wow. I never thought of it that way. I realized, in that moment, I’ve been doing this most of my life.

My default is to do what I hope will contribute to a peaceful interaction. I do this with what I think are good intentions.

My thought process was, “Andrew’s gone out of his way to book us a table at a special restaurant. But if I say there’s nothing on the menu I want, that would hurt his feelings, and I want us to have a nice dinner, so I’m not going to say anything because I don’t want to make an issue of it.”

But what I don’t realize is, I AM making an issue of it. In fact, I am creating confusion. I'm creating an undertone of dissonance.

I know I’m extrapolating by speaking for women in general … but hey, let’s go there.

This is why men can never figure out what women really want. We never say what we truly want.

With the best of intentions, we project what we think other people want, and then say that’s what we want, because what we want is for the people we care about to be happy.

The irony is, sublimating what we want doesn’t make other people happy; it makes them WRONG.

Like Andrew, they see or sense we’re doing something contrary to what we want. And that’s not what they want. They want us to be happy too.

So, what we end up with is two people trying to make each other happy … and no one is happy.

Oh, what tangled webs we weave.

Thank heaven Andrew got to the heart of the matter. He asked, “Mom, what do you want to eat?”

This time, I told him straight out, “A steak.”

He said, “We can do that.”

He asked our waiter to package up the food (he and Miki would have it later). We headed to Whole Foods, a block away, bought some steak and salmon for me, some salad for him, walked to a nearby park and sat outside under a full moon getting caught up, each of us eating and enjoying what we truly wanted.

Now, you might think I got clarity around this, but no. Seems lifelong habits take awhile to change.

A couple weeks later I'm in Houston with my son Tom, who works at NASA’s Johnson Space Center with the International Space Station, along with his wife Patty, who has the world's greatest job title, Astronaut Scheduler.

I got to play Gramma Sam and help take care of 2 year old Mateo while Patty was in Moscow, serving as a liaison to the Russian Space Agency. An enduring memory was watching Tom, Patty and Mateo connect on SKYPE. As Mateo blew kisses to his “screen-mom,” halfway around the world, I thought, “Now, that’s a modern family!”

After Patty signed off for the night, Tom says, “A new seafood place just opened on the Keemah waterfront. Want to try it tomorrow? After all,” he says with a grin, “You ARE still on your Year by the Water.”

“Absolutely, I’m in the mood for some shrimp.”

The next evening, we arrive early before the crowd. Our waitress shows us to our table and comes back a moment later with our iced tea and water. She asks, "Would you like an appetizer?"

I look at Tom and ask, "How about some shrimp?"

"I thought you were going to have shrimp for dinner."

“I am.”

“You want shrimp for an appetizer AND for dinner?”

I hesitate. It sounds weird. I defer, “What looks good to you?

“Empanadas."

“Will Mateo eat them?

“Yep.”

“Let’s get those.”

You see where this is going, don’t you?

Sure enough. The empanadas come. Tom puts one on my plate.

I put it back and say, "Thanks Tom, I'm not going to have one."

He gives me the exact same look Andrew gave me. "Mom, why would you let me order something if you knew you weren't going to have any?"

I cannot believe I reverted to my default. I tell Tom, "I obviously didn't learn this lesson, because I did the same thing with Andrew a couple weeks ago."

One of the many things I love about Tom is he cuts to the chase. He said, “I don’t understand. Why would you do that?”

I said, “Tom, I’m just coming to realize that I grew up automatically deferring to what I thought others wanted in a misguided attempt to keep the peace and keep everyone happy.

You and Andrew are showing me that I do this without even thinking, and that even when I do it with the best of intentions, it produces the exact opposite of what I want.

You're right, it would have been so much cleaner if I had said, 'Tom, I actually do want shrimp as an appetizer and as my entrée. If you want something else, that's cool. I'm still going to get a shrimp cocktail.”

Tom said, “Exactly. When you say what you want, I don’t have to wonder what you really mean, or wonder if there’s a hidden agenda somewhere I don’t know about.”

“I get that. A long time ago, you, Andrew and I agreed we would tell each other the truth. It un-complicates communication and makes life so .. much ... simpler.

We agreed that back-and-forth – ‘What movie do you want to see?’ ‘I don’t care, what movie do YOU want to see?’ - is crazy-making. We promised each other we much rather hear the truth – because we can deal with that – than have to read between the lines and second-guess everything the other person is saying.”

Tom looked at me as if this ought to be a “duh” moment. It’s crystal clear to him and Andrew how much simpler it is just to say what we want. It’s taking me awhile to undo decades of “going along to get along” deferring.

To use a water metaphor, every time we ask for something we don't want, it sets a ripple effect  of dissonance in motion.

In my upcoming book about the experiences and epiphanies from my Year by the Water, I go into more detail about how this trip - which gives me time, space and autonomy to make it up as I go - has opened my eyes to the fact that it's been so long since I’ve had the freedom to do exactly what I want ... I don’t even know what that is anymore. It's so buried, I've had to excavate it.

It can be as simple as realizing I really do want to stay in places ON (not close to) the water. For the first few months, I over-rode that preference and abdicated what I wanted in order to be frugal. I would stay at a resort near the water but opt for a cheaper room. Fifteen years of being a single mom who needed to be budget-minded kept kicking in, telling me I needed to save money.

Thank heaven for Glenna Salsbury. I was telling her about the JOY I felt the week before when I upgraded and walked into a beach-front room with a stunning view of the Pacific Ocean.

The ever-wise Glenna said, succinctly and eloquently, “Sam, this is your Year by the Water. Wouldn’t you rather spend 6 months overlooking the ocean than 12 months overlooking the parking lot?”

Boom.

Thank you Tom, Andrew and Glenna for opening my eyes to a life-long default that hurts rather than helps.

Starting today, I will remember  it works better for everyone when I ask for what I truly want - clearly, simply, and from the beginning.

Contrary to what we may have been taught, this is not selfish. It is a precursor to heartfelt happiness.

If we all do this, we can deal with what IS instead of complicating matters, creating confusion, and setting up an undertone of dissonance and unintended deception.

Tom and I agreed, from now on, the word PASTA is going to be our CODE for hedging on what we really want.

"ARE YOU ORDERING THE PASTA?" will be our short-hand for "Are you saying what you think I want - instead of coming straight out and asking for what you want?"

How about you?

When it comes to asking for what you want - what was modeled for you, taught to you, growing up?

Are you constantly deferring to others? Has it been so long since you've tapped into what you really want, you no longer know what that is?

Are you comfortable stating what you want - or do you automatically go along with what other people want - thinking it will lead to peace and happiness?  How does that impact you and the people around you?

I still have a lot to learn around this. I look forward to hearing your insight.

-    -    -

Is the Light Is On In Your Eyes?

Did you know: * 48% of people say they are tired every single day of the week? * 52% of people feel unappreciated and would quit their job if they could? * that WORK -and the stress leading to it- are now the fifth leading cause of death in the U.S.?

Why are we doing this to ourselves?

I believe it's because "our strength taken to an extreme becomes our Achilles Hell." (Not a typo).

And for many of us, our "strength" is that we want to be a good person. We want to be responsible.

So we go to work and take care of customers and coworkers. We come home and take care of our family. In our community, we take care of friends, neighbors, the people on our church committee, community association board, local sports team or service club.

The question is, are we so busy taking care of everyone else - we have neglected our own priorities, dreams and goals? At what cost?

I believe it's not selfish to do more of what puts the light on in our eyes, it's smart. Here's why I've come to believe it's important to set our SerenDestiny in motion now - not someday.

Several years ago, I had breakfast with Ivan Misner, founder of BNI, (one of the world's largest networking organizations.) After hearing about my full calendar and nonstop travel, he asked, "What do you do for fun?"

Long pause. I finally dug deep and came up with "I walk my dog around the lake."

Please don't get me wrong. I'm grateful to do work I love that matters; it's just that I was going 24/7. (Sound familiar?)

My conversation with Ivan, a health-scare and several other wake-up calls motivated me to do a pattern interrupt.

I gave away 95% of what I owned and took my business on the road for a Year by the Water. I visited oceans, lakes, rivers and waterfalls and wrote about my adventures and insights.

(And yes, I realize how fortunate I am to be at a certain age and stage in my career where I had the freedom, autonomy and wherewithal to do that.)

Do you know what I didn't predict? That my Year by the Water ended up NOT being about the water.

Yes, I swam with dolphins, sailed the Chesapeake Bay and had many memorable times in, on and around the water.

But what turned that trip into a life-changer were the unplanned experiences and disruptive epiphanies that caused me to realize my S.O.P - Standard Operating Procedure - was sadly outdated.

To my surprise, I discovered many of my default beliefs/behaviors - what I thought were right, true, and good - were wrong.

For example, I discovered:

• Hard work is not the secret to success, it's not even close • We need to quit watering dead plants • Fun is not a four-letter word • It's never too late to have a fresh start * Self-sacrifice serves no one • You’ve got to have a dream for a dream to come true

Many of the people I met during my travels told me they felt conflicted, torn, locked into a lifestyle that's nothing like they imagined or expected.

On one hand, they're grateful for their kids, spouse, job, etc.

On the other hand they feel they don't have the freedom to do what makes them happy. The well-meaning model of being responsible to everyone but yourself is producing a generation of unhappy, unhealthy people who are leading a life that is nothing like the one they want and deserve to lead.

It’s time to disrupt what being a “good person," what leading a "good life" looks like.

Rest assured, I am not suggesting we ignore others' needs and think only of our own. I'm suggesting we get clear about our values and priorities - and start creatimg a life that's more in alignment with that NOW, not someday.

What really matters to you – now and in the long run - is deeply personal. Only you can figure out what that is for you.

The good news is, this SERENDESTINY site (and my upcoming book Someday is Not a Day in the Week) can help you start putting yourself back in your own story.

I hope you'll come back and visit frequently. You may find just the right quote, eye-opening insight or inspiring success story to motivate you to do something TODAY that puts the light on in your eyes.

Trust me, you will never regret clarifying what puts the light on in your eyes and bringing more of that into your life; you will only regret not doing it ... sooner.