Arminda Lindsay

Being On Purpose

Use This Door

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I have a friend who always said to me, “Don’t tell me what to do!” And every time she said that it would give me pause as I mentally rewound the conversation to determine whether I had, in fact, just told her what to do, or whether she was being silly (again). More times than not I realized I had issued a directive, but never consciously with intent to have my own way or to be manipulative. And since my friend was so willing to call me out every single time I did so, I soon became self-aware enough to stop myself from continuing the practice.

As I work with my clients, I am not surprised to discover that many of them haven’t noticed that they are living their lives based largely on what they’ve been told to do. So many of us exert a lot of energy making small and large decisions solely to avoid hurting someone else’s feelings, or disappointing a loved one, without thoughtfully considering what we would choose if we didn’t feel guilt or obligated to continue on the path outlined.

Think about it. Have you made a decision for that reason? Have you avoided doing something, or not been entirely forthcoming, for that reason?

You’re not alone.

But just because someone who loves you had an idea about what you should be when you grew up, doesn’t mean that you shared the same vision for yourself. And how long did it take you to realize that law school, or the military, or taking over the family business wasn’t as satisfying or exhilarating or fulfilling as you thought it should be? And do you now feel stuck? Obligated to stay? Frightened about what might happen if you should switch things up a bit?

I get it. And I understand.

What would happen if you practiced saying, “Don’t tell me what to do!” to yourself, to the voice inside your head that keeps issuing directives? (And just for grins and giggles, the next time you notice that voice — also notice whose voice it is that you’re hearing. I am willing to bet it’s not your own, but someone else’s.)

What if before you make your next move on auto-pilot, you switch back to manual and check in with yourself to be sure you’re not acting simply because your next step was outlined for you.

Just because all external signs point toward one door doesn’t mean you can’t choose a different door altogether.

You tell you what to do.

Loving you,
arminda

PURPOSELESS IS NOT DIRECTIONLESS

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There are EIGHT children in my family and my seven siblings were all overtly creative. I had brothers who could draw, sisters who could sing, other brothers who were just downright clever and still other brothers who could sing AND play instruments. There was seemingly no shortage of artistic ability in my immediate gene pool. Then there was me; I liked to read. I didn’t draw, or sing, or make anyone laugh, nor was I particularly clever. I did play the clarinet, but only because everyone else in my family played instruments. I was always embarrassed and a little bit ashamed of how not creative or artistic I was. Being a “Lindsay” meant being those things, so I never thought I fit or belonged in my family of origin because I didn’t relate to any of the obvious gifts and talents my brothers and sisters clearly possessed. 
When I tried to figure out what I was supposed to be when I grew up, which would be largely influenced by my course of study at university, I experienced a lot of stress around choosing a major. Ultimately I chose to study history and English, but this was only after I’d first chosen to pursue theatre, as it was a creative outlet where I felt comfortable and confident, but quickly changed my mind after my dad openly disapproved of my choice. But I never stopped judging myself for not being “properly” creative, and that judgment influenced decades of my life.
For years I wondered and wandered inside my own head, worrying that I might not have a purpose, or that my only purpose was to be a mother to my daughter and was that it? Was that the only reason I was here? Please don’t misunderstand me. Being a mom is THE coolest thing I’ve ever done, but fulfilling my life’s purpose over an eighteen year window of my life didn’t seem like “IT” for me! And there were definitely times during those eighteen years when I felt completely out of my league and still without purpose! Wasn’t there something bigger for me to yet accomplish?
And today I learned something I’m going to share with each of you: purpose doesn’t matter. If you don’t have a purpose, don’t sweat it. Purpose and direction are different things and being without a purpose doesn’t mean you’re without direction. In fact, Steve Chandler said (I heard him with my own ears and saw him say this with my own eyes) “If I get over myself, creativity just comes through me!” 
And that’s it: if I get out of my own way and stop trying to force myself to BE anything, or to find or to assign a purpose to my life, direction appears. If I’m not constantly looking for what I think should be happening, I can clearly see what’s next. And that is the direction I move. I take one step at a time, allowing my life and my energy source and my natural state (happiness and joy) to guide me. Life is already and always showing me how to live it, one step and one day at a time. I don’t have to force my own opinions (ego) onto what is naturally better and more amazing all on its own. 
Am I creative? I AM a Lindsay, after all! I’m one of the most creative people I know, but it’s taken me decades to see my own creativity because first I had to sidestep my ego to reveal how much creativity wants to come through me. Now my relationship with creativity is a daily love affair. I never know what we’re going to do together, but we are happily inseparable. 
The only thing I ask myself every day is “What will I create today?” And then I go and do it. That, my friends, is direction. If there’s a purpose that appears along the way, then fine. Otherwise, I’m perfectly content to stay in my daily inquiry because being out of my own way allows creativity to flow through me.
What will you create today?

For, Not To

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The morning of our final full day in Italy our B&B host drove us to the bus stop to catch the 11:15 down the mountain. We arrived at 10:55 followed by the bus five minutes later, departing with us on it well before 11:15. Had we arrived any later than we did, we wouldn’t have made it down the mountain until nightfall, completely canceling our option to visit Pompeii, which was by far one of our favorite experiences the entire trip.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

The bus took us down most of the mountain until the bus broke and then we stood on the side of the road with the other passengers waiting for a not broken bus to replace our broken one. The second bus deposited us what felt like a mile from the train station, which we located only with the help of a kind fellow bus passenger, and secured passage on the local to Pompeii, where we spent the entire afternoon roaming chariot-rutted streets and long-ago abandoned buildings.

I ate my final pizza. 

After walking around Pompeii all afternoon we got back on the local train to continue our way to Naples, standing the entire trip because the train was overflowing with passengers. From the Naples depot, we took a taxi to our hotel and then walked to a nearby market for some snacks and collapsed in our room for the night, knowing our airport departure time would come much sooner than our bodies wanted to allow.

I thought a lot about that experience, even in the middle of it. Actually, especially in the middle of it — that part when the bus broke down and no one spoke any English and I watched other passengers wander away from the group and I wondered whether we were totally on our own to find new transportation for the remainder of a trip whose route I did not know? Or was I meant to stand in the middle of the road in front of the now defunct bus? Had I correctly understood the message the driver animatedly tried to communicate? Nothing was immediately apparent to me, except my feeling of immense responsibility for the safety of my daughter, niece and sister-in-law, all of whom were traveling with me.

And I decided to let it go, to drop my attachment to any feelings of frustration, anger or fear about what was happening. I had zero control over the situation with the bus and, therefore, zero control over what might happen next. So instead of being upset at the bus breaking down, I took a picture of the roadsigns directly above my head and smiled at how beautiful a day it was and if we had to stand in the middle of this Italian mountain village, then I was certainly glad the sun was shining! Besides, what’s a good adventure without a transportation mishap somewhere along the way? And within minutes a fresh working bus arrived to carry us the rest of the way down the mountain.

As I considered my entire three weeks traveling through Italy I am aware that we arrived every single place we wanted, saw every single thing we wanted to see, found every single house, apartment, hotel, or B&B we booked, were always safe, never missed an experience, and even discovered new delights that expanded our lives and world view because we could see that everything happens for us, not to us, and everything always works out for us.

That’s the way it always is. There are lots of variations and ways to say that life happens for you, not to you, and once you see that, life gets a whole lot better. Steve Chandler posits this shift in perspective is the difference between being a victim of your life and its owner. I like to see it as being the creator of my experience because with every single out of my control occurrence, I get to make a choice. I can choose to react (victim) or I can choose to act (create).

The bus is going to break down. 

Breakdowns and unknowns are a given. Do better than “just deal with it.” Choose to be expanded by the breakdown moments and see that they happen for you. No one is against you. Not the bus, not its driver, not the other passengers, not the universe. There is no universe. There’s only you and the stories you make up inside your own head. So if you’re struggling with a case of “I can’t believe this is happening to me,” then shift your perspective. Create a new story.

Play with the possibility that what’s happening is for your benefit.
What can you see when you rise up to street sign height?
Or higher?
The sky is gorgeous from up here.
Do yourself a favor and celebrate how for you it all is.

Loving you,
arminda

Judgment Just Hit The Fan

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Let’s Get Personal

Today I want to share something much more personal than I’ve shared in previous posts. I want to talk about what I know about judgment, particularly self judgment, and the consequences of those judgments.

I’m notoriously hard on myself and often catch myself berating and belittling Me for choices I’ve made, for behaviors I’ve displayed, and lately, for feelings I’m experiencing. I don’t think I’m alone in this, but you decide where you are on the self-beratement scale while I continue my personal sharing.

Today marks the start of my third full week alone; I said goodbye to my college freshman daughter on Tuesday, August 30, and flew home by myself on Wednesday, August 31, so I’ve been with this aloneness for 18 consecutive days now.

In these past 18 days I’ve had oral surgery, recovered from said surgery, cleaned my house of “extra” furniture, staged my home to look like it’s perfectly clean and tidy 100% of the time, listed it for sale, packed up my 52-pound dog and driven around town every time strangers requested to look inside our space, maintained my client schedule, stuffed my humidifier into my dirty clothes hamper because I kept forgetting to put it in the attic as it’s too personal an item to have out when you have prospective buyers in, officially went under contract with a buyer, found a new place to live and made a deposit, freaked out about whether the new place was the right place and spent hours looking for a different new place only to realize the new place where I made the deposit is still the right place, read three books, learned the second year of my course in Spiritual Psychology is no longer being offered this year, watched a lot of internet tv, wrote daily, and constantly missed my daughter.

My Judgments About All of That

  • I judged myself for the way I looked post-surgery
  • I judged myself for how much time it took to feel “normal” post-surgery
  • I judged myself for how much unnecessary stuff had accumulated in my house over the past 12 years of living here
  • I judged myself for how little time I was spending with my clients because of all the other directions in which I was committing my time
  • I judged myself for not having put the humidifier away a long time ago AND I judged myself for not having sanitized it yet
  • I judged my judgment on my choice of where I’m living next
  • I judged myself for not having read more than three books — how will I ever get through my list and be the best coach if I’m not always learning?
  • I judged myself for not having a plan in place when the university emailed me about the delay in my planned course of study
  • I judged myself for watching so much tv and for wasting my life and all this time I now have
  • I judged myself for writing while I was tired and for probably not writing while at my best
  • I judged myself for not getting over missing my daughter
  • I judged myself for feeling lonely
  • I judged myself for wasting this amazing new chapter of my life

I’ll stop here with the judgments. I think you get the idea.

Judgment Truths

There are some very important truths about judgment that once understood help me avoid the trap AND it’s easier for me to reroute myself when I’m heading down the self-judgment path.

Judgment of any kind, whether of self or of others, can only create separation. Consider a time you’ve judged someone else as being wrong, hurtful, out of line, or inappropriate. How did you feel toward that person alongside your judgment of them? Cozy? Close? Warm? Affectionate? No?! You likely distanced yourself emotionally, mentally and/or physically. That’s because judgment creates separation. But only every time.

I’ve been in such severe judgment of myself these last couple of weeks and I’m not surprised at the amount of internet tv I’ve been watching; I don’t want to be with myself because I’m so disappointed in my behavior that I keep looking for ways to get away from me. The more I judge myself for what I’m not doing, the more I don’t do those very things for which I’m judging myself. Vicious.

Judgment also creates physical exhaustion. It’s no surprise that I have been completely wiped out these last 18 days! I can hardly get out of bed in the morning and can’t wait to fall into bed at night. The other day I took a three-hour nap late in the afternoon and was in bed asleep by 10:00 that same night. Judging myself is hard work and it takes its toll on me in a very physical way.

Forgiveness

When I recognize I’m in a pattern of judgment, I slow myself way down. I work with my coach to identify the source of the judgment: my personal why. And as soon as I see it: the real reason why I’m so upset, the judgments tend to unravel themselves one at a time. Once I see my upset up close and personal, I can work with that and drop all my judgments in the process. And when I drop my self judgments, I can forgive myself for judging myself. That’s a beautiful process, forgiving myself, because only then am I able to see the truth about Me, the truths that up until now were taking a beating in their effort to be seen and heard and experienced. And the truth statements are the best part. I speak those out loud because I need to hear them, to be reminded of what is true, of who I am BEing.

My Truths

The truth is, I’ve been doing the best I can these last 18 days.
The truth is, I’ve been doing a lot more than I’ve allowed myself to see.
The truth is, I’m grieving the absence of my daughter and it’s okay to feel sad and lonely sometimes.
The truth is, I’m making a lot of life changes and the decisions that are required are going to feel bigger than they are.
The truth is, I can just have fun with all of these changes because they’re only as serious as I make them.
The truth is, I’m doing great.
The truth is, everything always works out for me.

Thank you for allowing me to share my personal experience with self-judgment. I know I’m not alone in this habit. If there’s something I’ve shared that is particularly helpful for you, please use it. And if there’s a judgment you’re carrying that you’re struggling to forgive and turn around into a truth, please email me <coach @ armindalindsay dot com> and share it with me so I can support you in your work. You can drop the judgment. I promise.

Loving you,
arminda

Focus

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Charles Fillmore suggests “There is an inherent law of mind that we increase whatever we praise. The whole of creation responds to praise, and is glad. Animal trainers pet and reward their charges with delicacies for acts of obedience; children glow with joy and gladness when they are praised. Even vegetation grows better for those who love it.”

But there’s a flip side.

What you focus on grows, whether that focus is on something praiseworthy and valuable, or whether on something unimportant and without merit.

When I water my plants, they flourish; when I neglect and disregard them, they become limp and lifeless.

The same principle also applies to our mindset, thoughts and behaviors.

During a recent conversation with the sweetest CNA I know, she told me she is really bad at taking blood pressure and because she’s so bad at it, she’ll never be able to advance her position into a different environment that would require her to regularly take patients’ blood pressure.

Her mindset in this situation is currently “fixed,” as she sees herself as good as it gets with no option for anything different.

Her thinking about herself is negative and comparative to others and she (mis)believes she’s incapable and less than.

Her behavior is resigned to where she is right now and because she can’t ever possibly take blood pressures differently than she does right now, she’ll always be working in a place where that’s not a daily requirement.

Up until our conversation she was focusing on what she can’t do (take blood pressure readings) and so she was simply creating a self-fulfilling prophecy. Plus, her fear and inhibition around the idea of being asked or required to perform this task were escalating.

I suggested a little game:

  1. Believe she’s capable of learning something new.
  2. Tell herself (out loud and at least once a day) she is great at taking blood pressure!
  3. Create regular opportunities to practice taking blood pressure.
  4. Update her resume in anticipation of a new working environment in which she will be using her amazing blood pressure taking skills!

What you focus on grows.

Focus on what you want to grow.

Now go bloom.

Practice creates talent.” — Steve Chandler

Loving you,
arminda

Peace by Piece

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Peace by Piece

Puzzles are curious toys: put all the related, but disconnected, pieces together to form a big picture, but don’t get frustrated in the process and quit, because the reward for sticking with it is intrinsic and will leave the player wanting to do it all over again, only a little bit more challenging next time.

Children learn the system of puzzle solving by first playing with puzzles that have only four or five components. Once they’ve mastered the small picture, they graduate themselves to larger and larger pictures, increasing the personal challenge with each subsequent upgrade in puzzle size, and the bigger the puzzle the more reliant on systems they become. Locate the four corners, then the border pieces, colors become helpful in identifying in which quadrant the piece might fit best, fill in the middle part, and so on, and piece by piece the bigger picture takes shape until it’s all completed, just as the picture on the box indicated it would look.

During a recent coaching session my client shared with me her frustration at how overwhelming her job currently feels to her. She detailed the multiple demands on her time in an effort to explain how impossible it is, and perhaps to justify her exhaustion and frustration. Maybe, she wondered, she’d taken on too much? Or just doesn’t know how best to manage her time?

I didn’t buy it.

Does she love her work? Absolutely.
Is she in her own self-selected ideal field? Definitely.
Is she feeling at peace in her work life? Nope.

This is a classic example of forgetting to remember that the picture on the box is the end objective and that picture is never created by dumping the puzzle pieces out of the box.

Remember that the vision of what it all will look like upon completion is just that: a vision, an image, a picture of what’s possible only after you take a bunch of individual steps to create that bigger picture. If you’re holding yourself to the standard of daily creation of the big picture you will experience overwhelm, frustration, resentment, exhaustion, self-judgment and fear.

But only all the time.

If you’re experiencing overwhelm and are not at peace, may I suggest you test a new system? Locate your four corners, then establish your borders (create boundaries), and notice the colors on the pieces because that will inform in which quadrant of your creation they might fit best, and lastly fill in the middle part.

This might take some practice, but play with it. Ask yourself what one next step could you take toward the bigger picture? Then take it, do it, create it, whatever IT is. Now, rinse, lather and repeat that process until you’ve put it all together and voila! You’ve got yourself a completed picture. Time to create a new vision and play with its pieces from a place of peace because you didn’t quit and walk away when you forgot to remember it was all a game, anyway.

Find your peace, piece by piece.

Loving you all,
arminda

Ingredient List

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Ingredient List

Best Tomato Salad Ever

Fresh Tomato, chopped in slightly larger than bite-sized pieces
Fresh Basil, ripped to taste
Oregano, to taste
Sea Salt, to taste
Fresh Pepper, to taste
Olive Oil, to taste

Mix all ingredients together and serve

I love food. I especially love when I can taste every single ingredient in a dish and those blended flavors create magic for me.

Basic, fresh, locally-sourced ingredients combine to make the most mouth-watering concoction you’ve ever experienced. Well, at least that I’ve ever experienced. Maybe tomato salad isn’t your thing. No worries.

Tomatoes and oregano make it Italian; wine and tarragon make it French. Sour cream makes it Russian; lemon and cinnamon make it Greek. Soy sauce makes it Chinese; garlic makes it good. — Alice May Brock

Imagine (just for a moment) yourself as a dish of food. What would be on your list of ingredients? Take a few minutes and consider the qualities and characteristics that make you, you. Write them down and hold the list in front of you and read it out loud. Don’t be afraid to identify what’s truly there, each and every flavor whose distinctive essences combine to create the most exquisite flavor palate that is you.

Did you leave off a key ingredient? Add it to your list. Now read it again. Is it complete?

If you’re afraid of butter, use cream. ― Julia Child

The best combinations are those with the fewest ingredients. Don’t compare your list with what you think comprises someone else’s list.

If you show up wholly and completely as yourself, with your basic and internally-sourced ingredients, what makes you amazing?

I know you’re amazing; I just want to be sure you see it, too.

The discovery of a new dish does more for the happiness of the human race than the discovery of a star. — Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarin

Send me an email {coach@armindalindsay.com} and share your personal ingredient list with me so I can marvel at the magic of the creation of you.

I like a cook who smiles out loud when he tastes his own work. Let God worry about your modesty; I want to see your enthusiasm. — Robert Farrar Capon

The Writing on the Wall

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The Writing on the Wall

No one likes being told what to do. And many people have a propensity to do the very thing they’ve been told not to, just to prove that no one is the boss of them. If you’ve spent any time around children you’ll have experienced this firsthand.

Adults are no different. They might dislike being told what to do even more than do children. Yet how often do you tell others what they should and should not be doing? How often do you believe your opinion and your way of doing things is the only and/or best way? How often do you believe that you’re in charge? That you’re the boss? That because you said so, everyone around you should do exactly as you say?

Maybe you are the boss, the one paid to be in charge. Do that title and paycheck legitimize your demands and justify your expectations of how everyone around you should behave in response to you?

What if you played differently in your own sandbox? What if instead of dictating the rules, you share your vision and/or your need and ask for participation and gather agreement from the very people on whom your success is dependent.

You might be surprised to discover how many people now want to play with you because they feel you care about their opinions, feedback and buy-in.

Experiment. Play. Let go of your attachment to telling. Pretend you’re not a dictator. Build a bigger sandbox.

A Pirate’s Life For Me

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A Pirate's Life For Me

Once upon a time I bought a brand new mattress. And just a few short months later I came home to discover my neurotic, anxiety-ridden, beloved dog Eli had artistically rearranged my mattress and created a hiding hole for me to use inside of that brand new mattress, which hole would be especially handy should I decide to become a pirate.

Did I get upset? For a moment, yes, before I considered why Eli might have gifted me with his reimagined version of what a mattress could look like or do for me.

Since I had no immediate plans for piracy, I set about re-stuffing the mattress and as it turns out, every bit of fluff that came out of the mattress fit right back in again and a little bit of duct tape over the opening held it all in place.

Have you ever had a catastrophe strike? At work? Or home? Or personally? Not likely. You only think you’ve had catastrophes. My mattress makeover was never a catastrophe, except in my mind. My upset was a reaction to a belief I made up in my own head.

Upset is a choice, not a consequence.

Yes, I could be angry at Eli, but what would that prove or fix? The mattress wasn’t ruined, just redesigned. Was it useable? Completely. The best course of action for me to take in my estimation was to connect better with Eli; to understand why he’d dug the hole so I could then support and love him beyond the fear that caused the behavior in the first place.

I like to remind myself that nothing outside of me causes my upsets. And when I find myself in an upset, the best course of action for me to take is to connect better with myself, to understand the internal hole I’m standing in so I can support and love myself beyond the fear that caused the triggering event in the first place.

Don’t throw out the mattress; it’s 100% useable. That hole is not a catastrophe. Your upset is not the end of the world, nor is your upset anyone’s “fault.” Unless you have plans to stash buried treasure and strike out as a pirate, quietly, slowly and intentionally put your fluff back and get some duct tape to hold it in place.

And if you find yourself in an upset more often than you care to admit, and before you blame the dog, may I encourage you to quietly, slowly and intentionally put your arms around yourself and give a squeeze. Remind You that everything is okay and whatever holes feel empty inside of you are fillable; your fluff might be a bit scattered, but it isn’t lost.

Loving you,
arminda

Give Away Your Essence

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Give Away Your Essence

As I was driving to the studio for my workout with my trainer I was listening to Rich Roll‘s Finding Ultra, a book I’ve wanted to read for years now and I’m so happy to finally be in it. A few minutes from arriving, I listened transfixed as Rich described the first day of his EPIC5 Challenge, completed with his friend and training partner Jason Lester, in which they set out to complete 5 Ironman-distance triathlons on five different Hawaiian islands in five days. This was a challenge they created for themselves, without mass media coverage or competitors from around the world; they weren’t even competing with one another, the goal was to finish together with their volunteer crew to mark the event.

At a very quiet and dark 3:00am start time on May 5, 2010, the island of Kaui still asleep as they began their 26-mile run with their crew leader snapping a photo to mark the event. A few miles into their run a woman in her car pulled up alongside of Rich and Jason, slowed down to keep pace with them and told them she’d heard what they were doing and wanted to come see for herself and to wish them luck, and her parting words were, “make us proud!” Not long after, they encountered a police cruiser, lights flashing, and the officer shouted out, “Aloha! Looking good, boys! Keep going!” as they passed.

As their first day progressed, Rich & Jason were joined at various times of their run, swim and bike stages not just by onlookers and well-wishers, but by locals who participated in their event for whatever length of time they were able. And Rich kept noticing how not alone they were, even though that’s what he’d expected for their not having publicized or alerted the media to their challenge. Emotional as I listened and felt the spirit of this story, my tears celebrated the beauty and humanness of service, in all its shapes and sizes, the love that is each of us, and I pulled into my parking space, eager to work out for the next 30 minutes.

My trainer gave me an easy warm-up: three sets of 10 left foot, 10 right foot, and 10 together with the braided heavy-weighted style jump rope. This is a fun warmup that I’ve done multiple times and the game for me is not stopping between the foot switch, to make it seamless. Except this time I miscalculated the distance between my left foot and the rope and on the tenth underpass, my left foot rolled with the rope and my entire body came down on that ankle. Hard. I screamed in pain as my body assumed fetal position and my brain didn’t communicate to the tear ducts to produce tears until the hands of my trainer physically turned my body over and I was surrounded with love.

My tears flowed as his gentle loving hands held me from behind and reassured me that I am safe. My tears flowed as two more pairs of gentle loving hands cradled my throbbing ankle to assess the damage. Together these hands all lifted me and gently relocated me to a safer space and wrapped my foot with their love and I felt how not alone I am, and my tears celebrated the beauty and humanness of this service, this love that is each of us and the awareness that we’re all just walking miracles, anxious and eager for any opportunity to give away the very essence of who we are: love.

I don’t want my life to be defined by what is etched on a tombstone. I want it to be defined by what is etched in the lives and hearts of those I’ve touched.”           — Steve Maraboli

allarminda.com | 2024