Ardor

Today is Sweetest Day.  A Hallmark holiday at best, I’ve never really thought it warranted celebration.  In fact, this day is not even on my radar, but an e-mail that called it out in the subject line got me thinking about where I stand on sweetness.  At first glance it appears I didn’t make much progress toward this year’s goal of going on a date, but when I look at the big picture, I’d say I learned a lot about love.

I learned how fiercely I can love my teenagers, in spite of the challenges that come with raising them.  I learned to cast aside my expectations of who I thought they’d be to make room for them to show me who they are.

I learned that girlfriends demonstrate unconditional love on a daily basis.  They are at the ready holding us accountable to assess ourselves objectively.  They allow us to express our fears, sadness, anger, frustration and disappointment, while reminding us that we are strong, powerful, and capable of changing our worlds.  They show us that we are worthy of love.

I learned that we can change the way the people around us interact, and ultimately how they see their value.  We can encourage inclusion and really connect people, empowering those around us to share their ideas for positive change. By speaking emphatically about what we believe in, we can influence the direction in which our organizations move and improve the experience for our teams.

Our capacity for love is limitless, yet most of us barely scratch the surface. I’ll leave you with Brene Brown’s TEDx Houston talk on vulnerability:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X4Qm9cGRub0

If we’re going to find love for ourselves in this world, the first place we need to look is within.

Velvet

It’s been three months, an entire quarter of a year, since I’ve done anything more artistic than drool hungrily over the wall of pastels at Blick.  Okay, there was that time I set up a cocktail bar on the potting bench in my porch, making a cool looking elevated serving tray out of an old scale and a bamboo cutting board, but that doesn’t really count.  We get so buried in the tasks we think we need to do, that we completely abandon what it is we like to do.  Thank goodness for the perspective of thoughtful friends who occasionally think to ask the question “What have you done for yourself lately?”

My friend sounded the alarm over lunch last weekend, alerting me I am in danger of flattening out again, becoming so consumed by my work that the other interests I have been so intentionally pursuing have all but vacated my life.  She could hear the knell so clearly in the wail of my voice, yet I had barely noticed.  Wrapped up in my new assignment, I easily slid right back into the long commute, crazy hours and tunnel vision that define a big job.

Leaving the restaurant, I took inventory.  Yes, it’s true I’ve reduced the number of miles I run these days, but this is a conscious decision after the stiffness from my half marathon in March took several months to dissipate.  I’m still writing, fighting to make time for the blog, but no longer investigating publishing opportunities.   The last piece of artwork I created was in July.  And the dating, well, we don’t need to talk about that.. . 

The most telling of all, though, is that I’ve stopped thinking about what I’ll do next with my career.  When I didn’t have something nailed down at the office, I allowed myself the freedom to think way outside the box.  Now I find myself confined inside familiar walls, squelching all the possibilities I had so proudly sketched out over the course of the year.

It’s like the patient who gets on maintenance medication and starts to feel so good that she decides she doesn’t need to fill the prescription anymore.  Fueling our passions is never-ending; we need to dose daily to keep ourselves happy. 

Someone very wise once told me that the work will still be there tomorrow.  We never completely finish what is on our plates.  For me this translates into permission to set limits around the time I spend working and permission to engage regularly in what’s fun. 

I didn’t pay too much attention in Economics class in college.  In fact, I paid so little attention that when a male friend once called my dorm room on a snowy morning impersonating my instructor, notifying me that class was canceled due to weather, he wasn’t given away because I recognized the teacher’s voice from lectures, but rather by the implausibility that I would receive a personal call from the professor.  What I do remember though from Economics 101 is the concept of diminishing returns.  We all invest with the intent to reap big rewards.  Many of us, women especially, invest for years on the promise of big rewards.  Economics tells us there’s a limit.  There is a point when the rewards top out despite our continued investment.

We all see our return in different terms.  The currency can take on many forms.  But what is universal is that when we invest all of our time and energy in one area, it becomes how we define ourselves.  It actually reduces confidence, because there’s an increased dependency when we limit ourselves to a single option. And you don’t need a college economics class to tell you that you should never put all your eggs in one basket.

So I’m back into my art.  The concept for my holiday card is complete; the mock-up on my desk while I mull over whether I’m really pleased with the execution.  It may need more tinkering.  The foundation for my next sketchbook is laid, which is super exciting because with the canvas prepped, it’s ready for whatever inspires me on any given day.  And I’m starting to think hard again not just about what I do at work, but what I really like to do at work. 

I’m taking my friend’s sage advice and recalibrating, sprinkling in a little economics.  Balance is based on where I see the biggest rewards.  My currency is happiness and pride. My return exceeds my investment in ways I've never imagined.

Virago

Winding down after another day in the paradise that is raising teenage boys, I find myself once again holed up in the relative calm of my porch, shuttered against the storm that I know will eventually pass.  The wind is howling in the form of foul lyrics blaring from the lips of a talented young songwriter who has yet to realize he’d reach so many more people if only he could limit his use of expletives. 

Attitude abounds in the mind of a stripling who clearly knows it all. Hubris prevents him from keeping his misguided thoughts to himself.  Before you know it, enough eye-rolls, heavy sighs and disparaging grumblings have been shot my way that my calm requests for respect crescendo into outright demands.  Yes, I’m yelling now. It never fails to surprise me how easily I succumb to the quick sand that girds him.  Before you know it I’ve sunk to his level.

I remind myself that in these moments he finds me to be the most overbearing obstacle in his life, and that his behavior is about control and exercising his independence. 

My sapience always saves me. True strength speaks in a whisper.

Vacillate

I need a shower.  Not to clean off the sweat and mud from the 7-mile trail run my racing comrades ambushed me with this morning, but to rinse from my soul the foul residue lingering from the venomous venting to a female colleague and friend I did yesterday; the simmering pot of unfairness in the workforce finally boiling over and scalding my ever-hopeful heart.  Like the hangover that follows an evening of raucous overindulgence, I woke up this morning, hurting in a shameful guilt, wondering how I could have let myself get so out of control with such selfish narcissism. 

I find myself swinging between the desire to fight tooth and nail for more, justified in the name of equality, and the will to exercise humility and gratitude for the privileged life I lead.  I have enough, do I really need more?  The uncharacteristic, deliberate and pointed lashing out I did while consciously avoiding all attempts to see the situation from any vantage point other than my own has embarrassed me.  My behavior reeked of disappointment in myself for my repeated failure to fight successfully for what I believe is my due.  Yet there is this feeling that I have so much more than others, I should be quiet, thankful and somehow content. My pain over yesterday’s outburst stems from this unbroken tension.

My faith tells me I should just continue to work hard and not worry about the rewards; I will be taken care of. The fighter in me says that if I don’t speak up for what is fair I’ll be viewed as a weak and ineffective advocate.  If I don’t stand up for myself, who will?  Will inaction or resignation send the message that the situation is fine the way it is?

I’ve been in this space before, attempting to balance letting it be with taking action.  When I find myself here, I often refer to Ken Follett’s “The Pillars of the Earth”. An epic novel set in feudal times, it’s the story of the building of a cathedral.  Follett’s Prior Philip says this when faced with a similar conundrum:  “Having faith in God did not mean sitting back and doing nothing.  It meant believing that you would find success if you did your best honestly and energetically.”

I’m fully aware that Pillars is a work of fiction built around spiritual beliefs that everyone does not share, but there is something in this statement that has a real world application for me and so aligns with my moral compass that I am cleaved to it. What it says to me is that we do have some obligation to help ourselves along; we don’t have to submit to the fates that surround us; we have voices because it’s presumed we’ll put them into service.  What is it my oldest son says?   “If you give me freedom of speech you need to expect that I will use it.”  Out of the mouths of babes; my babe, actually.  Can you feel my pride?

Venting the toxic thoughts in my head yesterday to a friend who creates a safe environment for that to happen is, in a way, me exercising a sort of kindness to myself.  Her sympathetic ear and validation gave me the courage to say out loud that the inequity and exclusion I am faced with in the workforce is real and hurtful to me explicitly.  I get to feel bad about it.  I get to make it personal. More than that, I don’t have to submit to this like a rug people continue to traipse over. We all need to accept that which we can’t change, but acknowledging it is unjust is far different than trying to make it okay by saying it doesn’t matter.

As ugly as it was, purging the hurt leaves me better equipped to see more clearly my next move. I’ll have the meeting the head of our D&I council requested after reading my e-mail on inclusion. I’ll be able to leave my personal pain at the door, and speak intelligently and emphatically on why this matters. I want to be solution-oriented even though I know the solution will not make a material difference in the time I have left in the workforce.  I’m slowly becoming resigned to this reality.  But it’s an injustice that sears. 

I recently devoured a blog post that challenged the readers to consider who they surround themselves with.  Are you spending time with people who push you to be a better person?  There was nothing I needed more this morning than a good, long, challenging run.  While I hadn’t planned it, I found myself pushing hard to stay in it.  It’s just good for my soul. 

When I sent the text of apology to the girlfriend who listened to yesterday’s rant, I was rewarded in her riposte with more validation of my feelings.  We are kindred in our pain, but she’s been doing something about hers.  She speaks up, out and often to make visible the injustices and exclusion in the workforce.  I admire her bravery.  She inspires me to stand next to her in this cause.  She makes me better.

Arbitrage

I had an epiphany today.  Those of you who talk to me often may say something like “what now?”  I have these fairly regularly.  Today’s ah-ha moment was being able to put into words what is in between me and career satisfaction.

I have worked extremely hard, over the past eight years specifically, to get to where I’m at today.  I have an executive-level title and all the responsibility to go along with it.  I have exposure to senior level leaders in my organization and have cultivated and maintained a personal brand that is respected, admired and preferred over others. I am sought out for the most challenging projects, for counsel on a broad area of expertise and very quickly instill in my teams a belief that they will be empowered, supported and heard, in spite of the fact that my tenure has been severely truncated in my most recent assignments.

Sounds good on paper, right?  So what’s the problem?  It’s this:  I don’t “feel” like an executive.  I put the word feel in quotations because it’s such an imprecise and unprofessional way to describe my frustration.  Or is it?

Since returning from the women’s summit my company held last week, I can’t stop thinking about the inclusion aspect of diversity and inclusion.  When corporations talk about their D&I programs, the focus is very heavily on diversity.  It’s the part that is easily understood, with a solution that readily presents itself.  Just add more diverse people and we’ll be a diverse organization. The problem is we’re not so well versed in inclusion.  Once our diverse team members are on the payroll, we don’t leverage them to the fullest extent.  This is especially evident at the executive level.

Corporate America has been male-dominated since the beginning of time.  Business practices, protocol and perspective are all filtered through the male lens.  It’s so ingrained in both sexes that most of us don’t even realize the extent to which gender bias has permeated our culture. 

Women are literally shut out of a huge piece of the relationship-building component, which is key to success at the executive level, because it is socially acceptable, expected even, for  business to be conducted on a golf course or at an after-hours social event.  I’ve often asked myself how I’m expected to connect with my married, male client when I am a single woman.  Especially when the most visible example of another woman’s attempt to bond with her married, male client fed the rumor mill for months, culminating in an assertion that the two shared a hotel room on a business trip.  A friend told me recently that she is vigilant about her behavior in the few social situations she’s included in because she doesn’t want to give anyone a modicum of fuel for that fire.  Sadly, the people around us are making their own assumptions, regardless of what we put out there.

What’s happening is that the women who make it to the top surrender themselves.  They assimilate into the male culture in order to break the glass ceiling.  Only the really tough ones make it.  It takes a certain caliber of woman to transform herself, mastering the rules of the male game. I have nothing but respect for these women and the personal sacrifices I imagine they’ve made to achieve their stature.  But it’s not who I want to be.

“Feel” is the right word.  It’s the right word for women.  How women feel about the work they do and perceive their value in an organization has everything to do with why they remain with an employer.  I don’t feel like an executive in spite of my skills, my title and my ability to complete the most challenging of client deliverables because I’m lacking equality in compensation and the social connection that comes naturally to men.  You’re not truly an executive without the complete package.  At a time in my career when I should feel on top of the world about my accomplishments, I feel empty, wondering what all the hard work was really for.  The rewards that go with the hard work, which are the money and hanging out with the in crowd are out of my reach.

Deutsche Bank published a white paper in 2010 on gender balanced leadership that says this:  “Employers eager to capitalize on their investment in women allow women to get to the top staying themselves, not having to borrow the style of their successful male colleagues.”  This is a very astute observation that gets to the heart of inclusion.  It’s acknowledging that some very common business practices are inherently exclusive in today’s world.  It’s recognizing we can’t just title women without addressing the imbalance in rewards. It’s finding ways for our diverse talent pool to contribute on their own terms. Improving diversity at the executive level by promoting more women is a temporary fix.  Attrition will be right behind us on the ladder if we don’t address inclusion.  Employers figuring this out will be the employers of choice for women.

This is a complex problem that remains unsolved in the business world today. It’s also the next place I’m going.

I sent two e-mails on this topic today:  One to the man who heads up the diversity and inclusion council at my company, the other to the woman who runs the leadership development consulting business where I’ve been mentoring women.  One of these avenues is going to put me in a position to lead an effort to create inclusive environments that put women on a path to get to the top just by being themselves. 

I will feel like an executive.  I’ve worked too hard not to.

Lexicological

I’m a big fan of the current marketing campaign Athleta is running.  This company sells athletic wear for women, and quite honestly, it makes me drool.  It’s practical, colorful, durable, fashionable, and branded with the super cool tag line “Power to the She”.  I’m sure I own way too much of this apparel, but I can’t help myself. The advertisements in magazines and their product catalogues are a clever play on words that encompasses the essence of today’s women, and they never fail to catch my eye. So here’s my ode to Athleta. Rock on, girls.

Be brave.

Brave the cold.

Fuel the fire.

Fire on all cylinders.

Speak up.

Speak out.

Take nothing for granted.

Grant grace.

Ruminate.

Illustrate.

Collaborate.

Validate.

Show the love.

Love what you do.

Do what matters.

Matter to others.

Make space.

Make time.

Make cookies.

Pull out the thorn.

Pull back the arrow.

Step on the gas.

Break the glass.

Break open.

Open doors.

Spin the big chair.

Be giddy.

Giddy up.

Finish what you start.

Start your engines.

Start dinner.

Feed your soul.

Set the table.

Set the stage.

Stage a coup.

Coup de grâce.

Power to the She.

Ferment

The past two days I’ve spent my time at the Women’s Summit my company hosted for sixty of the talented women leaders in the burgeoning officer ranks within my organization.  Meant to demonstrate the commitment the firm has to diversity and inclusion, we were granted access to the most senior executives and treated to presentations from four high-powered women outside of our business, all sharing the insight and experience they’ve garnered on their journeys to the highest levels of leadership in their respective industries.

The information was, as you would expect, invaluable.  The perspective was thought provoking and inspiring.  The speakers were dynamic and passionate. And while plenty of brainstorming was encouraged in an attempt to solution the glaring problem of underrepresentation of women in leadership positions within our organization, I walked away more cleaved than ever to my belief that the power to change this lies inside each individual woman.  It comes down to believing in your value and asking for what you want.

As women, we can be blind to our worth and mute when it comes to expressing our wants.  We seem to have an endemic and perpetual aversion to self-promotion. I’m not sure where exactly this comes from, but it is so prevalent that on the surface it appears to be inherent, somehow embedded in the X chromosome.  Yet this can’t be the case, and here’s why:  The successful women who spoke to us over the course of these two days made it clear in their mannerisms, their presence and their achievements that they have no trouble asking for what they want. We’re underrepresented because there simply are not enough of us speaking up for ourselves. 

The statistics will tell you that in today’s world, women and men are entering the white collar workforce at the same rate.  Yet attrition of women is fast and furious, quickly plummeting to the dark side of 80 – 20.  We leave, or worse than that, we plant ourselves in safe, stagnant positions, believing the constant juggling of work and life needs to remain invisible to our employers in order to preserve our hard-earned reputations, and even, sometimes, our jobs themselves.  We sell ourselves short, many of us working heads down, pencils up in silent apology for our outside obligations.  We don’t ask for what we want because we tell ourselves we should feel fortunate that our employers are tolerating a need for flexibility.  Seeking a balance to nurture our families, we make ourselves believe that we’re being granted concessions we should gratefully accept in exchange for promotions and fair compensation.  Until we get out of this damaging mindset, we will never be able to use our power to propel ourselves forward.

I’m trying to come up with an example of at least one women out there who has seriously pressed for a leadership role and been turned down. It seems unheard of to me, but it could just be my organization.  If this is the case, than I consider myself fortunate.  I certainly have never been refused a request for additional responsibility or opportunities to stretch myself and learn new skills.  Every time I asked to be considered for promotion my request was granted, and ultimately achieved.  Looking back, I really believe I could have had the promotions sooner if I hadn’t waited to ask for them until I was confident I had more than mastered the required skills. 

Over coffee with one of the younger women at the summit, I was enthralled listening to her talk about her business, an area I know little about.  She was confident, knowledgeable, authoritative, and I have no doubt she is a valued advisor to her clients.  Her business line has seen reductions in staff; she is doing the work of more than one person, allowing her business to realize healthy profit margins.  Yet, when she talked about herself, she spoke in terms of being grateful to have the flexibility to hold down her job and raise her young daughters, of not wanting to “rock the boat” and ask for what she wants.  And she’s not alone.  There are women all around us undercutting their value, bartering away promotions and pay in one-sided, phantom negotiations with themselves.  Ladies, stop it!

What I told this extremely talented and engaging young woman is that she proves her worth every day.  She wouldn’t be at this summit if our company did not see her talent and believe she is a great investment.  All the power she needs to move forward is inside of her.  She just needs to find her voice.  I advised her to look at herself through the lens in which she analyzes her clients’ operations, to speak of her value in the same terms she does her client’s assets, to advise herself with the same confident, objectivity she unleashes in her consulting role.

Yes, we should continue to look for ways to create more inclusive environments where women feel comfortable being themselves.  Yes, we should support employee resource groups for women and minorities.  Yes, we should require senior executives, both male and female to sponsor talented women, ensuring they receive opportunities to grow.  But the single, most powerful step we can take to get more women in executive positions is to coach the leadership pipeline to believe in their worth and speak their minds. 

While the meeting was packed full of valuable career advice, what resonated with me were the simple words:  “Ask for what you want.”