Driving up T.’s drive I felt fear. It felt irrational – silly even. T. is a good and trusted friend, and I had flown over 2,000 miles to spend just 48 hours with her and sing together for the first time in 15 years. But, yes, there it was: fear.

So, I took a few moments to unpack it. And what came rolling forward were the unknowns: What would it feel like to inhabit my artist self fully once more? Would we still sound good together? Where would our reconnection take us? Would we get gigs? And how would bringing music centrally back into my life shift my sense of self?

Really, I had two choices: get back on the plane and go home, or breathe into the questions and fear – and keep going. Which is what I did.

There are those experiences, big and small, that give us the choice between going home or going forward. It’s our bravery in those moments that makes the difference, as Chöngyam Trungpa reminds us: “The bravery of a warrior is like a lacquer cup. If the cup drops, it will bounce rather than break.”

I’ve recently come across a beautifully crafted online magazine, fear.less, dedicated to the exploration of what it means to come face to face with our fear. I hope you’ll read it and use it as I do to embrace the challenge and journey.

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We all have those things in our world that fit into the “could have, should have, would have…umm, okay – DIDN’T” category. True confessions: one of mine was, until yesterday, returning to my yoga practice after a one year hiatus (and my body is sure feeling it today).

Where does the resistance to doing what we most care about come from? That resistance is the voice of fear, cynicism, complacency, and indecision – the voice that tells us things like:

• “It doesn’t really matter – I can do it next week.”
• “It’s never going to be good enough.”
• “No one really cares about what I do.”
• “If I try to do something new and daring, it might fail – better to play it safe.”

That voice – in the words of Seth Godin – is our lizard brain talking. But it’s called other things, too, that you may remember from biology class: The Amygdala, The Limbic System, or the Fight, Flight or Freeze response.

So, why are we talking biology? Because, really, we’re walking around with “two brains” – our more evolved one that can dream up amazing possibility and action, and the other that is purely interested in survival. And guess which one often wins out? Exactly.

Those times when you feel hesitant, or afraid, or indecisive, or unsure of yourself? Well – it’s your lizard brain whispering to you. It’s what keeps people from taking a chance: speaking up in a meeting, sharing an idea, challenging the status quo.

Yes, our lizard brain is afraid of failure, but it’s also afraid of success. It’s also whispering things like, “What if your idea is a smashing success? Your life could change forever – are you really ready for that? What if there are consequences that you can’t foresee? It’s better to just stay put for now…”

Ironically, while all this whispering keeps us from reaching our full potential and feeling stuck, frustrated and stymied, it also keeps us feeling safe.

What to do? Try using your resistance as a weather vane. Lizard brain telling you to stop? Try going. Lizard brain telling you to keep your mouth shut and not share the big idea that’s just popped up? Maybe sharing it is exactly what’s called for. In the words of Seth:

“When you feel the resistance, the stall, the fear, and the pull, you know you’re on to something. Whichever way the wind of resistance is coming from, that’s the way to head – directly into the resistance.”

So, hold onto your hat and go for it. Let me know how it goes – and feel free to ask me any time how my yoga practice is coming along.

Tomorrow millions around the world will celebrate with the United States as we inaugurate Barack Obama as our 44th President. Today we are honoring one person who gave his life in the movement that helped to make tomorrow possible: Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

I have already written about my own moving experience of the link between the Civil Rights Movement and Mahatma Gandhi. Now we all have access to a speech given by Dr. King, recorded 50 years ago during his travels through India in 1959. In it, Dr. King talks about how deeply influenced he was by Mahatma Gandhi and his work for justice. You can listen to part of it here.

And tears came to my eyes when I watched this clip of Dr. King discussing whether or not he thought it possible that the United States could ever have a Black president. In it he predicts that it will happen in “less than 40 years.” Watch it.

Yes we did. Yes we can. And most importantly: YES WE WILL. We have a tremendous opportunity in front of us and I’m jumping in with both feet!

This open letter to our new President is both great advice and a beautiful reflection on the true nature of leadership from one of my favorite authors, Alice Walker. I think we’d all do well to heed her council.

Best read over tea, with a bit of time to let it sink in, and if you’re like me, your journal…

An Open Letter To Barack Obama

In a few weeks we will elect our next President. Like many I know, I’ve been on edge, boomeranging between hope and fear of disillusionment. Regardless of how the election turns out, I do believe in US – all of us, no matter where we fall on the political spectrum. This beautiful video by Dave Stewart holds the promise of what we can do together.

A few weeks ago I found myself surrounded by a group of executive coaches who, just like me, care passionately about supporting positive change in our communities through fostering strong leadership. I was attending a coaches retreat hosted by LeaderSpring, a great organization I am working with to provide coaching to nonprofit Executive Directors.

During the retreat, we were asked to share our reasons for doing the work we do, and one person’s response in particular has pushed me into much reflection. She talked about ancestors: how we are buoyed by those who came before us – and intriguingly, how we are becoming the ancestors who will buoy those who come after us.

I have forever been grateful to those who have come before me in the work – on whose shoulders I now stand. But I’ve never thought of myself as an "ancestor". It’s never really occurred to me that someone might need, not just value, my work, or that they could be inspired by my actions.

Mentorship is a natural sharing of knowledge that supports both people in the relationship in different ways. How amazing it is for a seasoned person to know that their perspective is needed, and how wonderful for someone new to the work to benefit from the knowledge gained through living. I not only want to thank those who have mentored me, but also recognize more fully the mentorship role that I can, and should, play for others.

As I said several posts back, ultimately we are all participating in a circular pattern of of influence and inspired action. We need each other.

How are you living into your role as ancestor?

Recently This American Life released a special show about the housing crisis, which has been at the forefront of many of our hearts and minds for months. The show is a first-time collaboration between This American Life and National Public Radio News, and clearly explains the complicated web that has affected millions. I learned a lot.

There are leadership lessons galore throughout the story. A few that are sticking with me right now are:

• The importance of systemic perspective. Nothing we or our organizations do ever happens in a bubble, and in our ever increasingly connected world, sub-systems can – and do – affect each other in unexpected ways.
• The importance of staying awake to the potentially disastrous effects of group think. Our individual perspective and leading from our own sense of integrity and alignment with our values is essential.
• The importance of asking the question: how do I need to be/act in order for fairness to thrive? I think we often pass the buck on being accountable by saying, “but that’s the way it works/has always been,” or “I won’t make a difference. I’m only one person.” But change or stagnation happens one person at a time.

You can listen to the show by going here. It’s an hour in length, but worth it. If you don’t have that kind of time, you can go here to listen to a 12 minute version that ran on NPR’s All Things Considered.

What do you think?

p.s. on 9/25/09: This American Life has just released an update to this episode, Return To The Giant Pool of Money. You can listen to it here.

"What is it that calls you to stretch beyond what is comfortable into places that are uncomfortable, and to realize that you are more powerful and more magical than your mind could have believed? What is your tree?" – Julia Butterfly Hill

Julia Butterfly Hill lived for over 2 years in a 180-foot-tall, 600-year-old California Redwood tree named Luna in order to prevent loggers from cutting it down. She refused to let her feet touch the ground until the tree was permanently protected, an act that challenged her to her core. Since descending from Luna, Julia has inspired thousands into action by being in dialogue around the simple question: what is your tree?

I keep the question near my workspace, and use it to keep my actions honest. Am I using my time, energy, resources for what matters most to me in the world? And am I really engaged in my work in a way that challenges me to stretch, and forces me to find ideas, tools and relationships – and strength – previously undiscovered?

For the most part (aside from the occasional few hours mindlessly channel surfing), I get to answer yes. My tree is fairness. It’s a commitment to equity and a belief that some things – including basic needs like water, the ability to live freely and reach our full potential – are a human right, not a privilege. My work through Imago isn’t just a job; it is rooted in my deepest commitments.

What are you using your voice for? What is your tree?

"If you asked me what I came here to do, I will tell you: I came to live out loud" – Emile Zola

When work & life become dizzying – when I need to remember who I am – I stand in the middle of my living room and sing my lungs out. Or I dance like I don’t care who sees me. And it’s always been that way for me; a central way that I connect with the core of who I am.

What do I mean by full voiced leadership? First and foremost, for me it’s about being grounded in a deep understanding of who you are and the work you are here to do. But what is the use of understanding if it isn’t put into action on behalf of what you believe in? The willingness to bring all of who you are to the table – your perspective, your curiosity, your questions – and having the authenticity and courage to speak matters just as much. It is the essence of leadership.

[Oh, and just as an aside: who gets to call themselves a leader? We all do. But more on that in another post...]

When we lead in this way, we are able to fully grasp that "truth" is subjective, and that while my truth is essential and important, no one person has the "big T" Truth. A world of possibility gets opened up when people are able to engage in generative, creative conversations that enable them to move to inspired action in service of their organization’s mission.

What are the ways you connect to your core? Am I the only one who grooves out to India.Arie? Listen to India.Arie’s Little Things