A Late Post and Serving Tables
Late post, uncontrolled seizures, and serving tables.
I had the privilege of speaking at the Dakota County Regional Chamber of Commerce Women's Leadership Forum in March.
It's now June and I haven't talked much about it, mostly because I've been thinking a lot about it.
What an opportunity to speak with top women leaders to a crowd of hundreds with the amazing Elizabeth Ries from Twin Cities Live. (I really admire Elizabeth for her authenticity and down-to-earth approach with her brand. Have you checked out her stories about chickens, recipes, and all things Minnesota?!)
I'm a little emotional thinking about it. A bit shocked at this opportunity.
I was invited to be on the panel by Kayla Hudson, an amazing human who is smart and so good at what she does. We met eons ago when I was serving tables (during a very slow period at Envision) to make extra cash. It was a frustrating and sad time for me. She was a bartender and could manage with grace and beauty when she was in the weeds. Always friendly and on point and wicked smart.
I say all this because: Everything and I mean everything can work out. What was a really hard, embarrassing time for me turned into an opportunity where I got to know Kayla and vice versa. Through this experience and many more, she thought I could bring value on this panel.
A little mind blowing.
I spoke about how I went through burnout following my mom's death and my son's journey with uncontrolled seizures and the following epilepsy diagnosis. And how I made it through when our oldest was struggling with his own mental health following my mom's stage 4 diagnosis and transition to heaven.
On top of this, my amazing partner-in-the-foxhole-of-life was gone for 20 days a month. He's an amazing dad and spouse and more present than most who are home every night. But I learned about single parenting well when it was really hard. I made peace with being a failure as a single parent so many times.
This was.all.a.lot but to be clear the burnout started before this. These situations only solidified what I shouldn't have been ignoring. And when we ignore, then life goes from whispering to shouting. And boy did it hit me hard. I could no longer work (or positive thinking) my way out of it. I had to slow.WAY.down and start listening to my nervous system and my body. I had to set stronger boundaries. I took a sabbatical. I embraced a duality in my faith.
I've told my story in San Diego, Dallas, Aspen, Phoenix, Bend, OR, and Minneapolis. Some of them were standing ovations which surprised me. I say this not to stroke an ego but to say that my message resonates so it's been worth it. So many of us are walking the tight rope. Some of us are listening to the quiet whisper which says: more ease and light and simple. Some of us need a full on cement truck to the head like me.
I may not be popular for saying this but 'grind and hustle' are not badges to wear, nor something to be proud of. I lived that for many years. To this day, I have to check myself on if I'm trying to wear the Grind and Hustle badge. It can be ugly.
I NEVER would have voluntarily signed up for the past five years. I honestly wasn't sure if I could walk the journey. But I learned a lot, whether it was serving tables, sitting in the ER with my son, single parenting while running a business, or trying to get through the day.
Jay has been seizure free for 15+ months; Ryan is walking through his own faith journey with honesty and authenticity; Jeff has accomplished one of his life goals to be a captain; and I'm stronger, more resilient, and more ready and willing to tell my story moving forward.
We are still in the middle of that story on many fronts, but I'm slowly learning that if we don't give up, the cement truck experience can turn into a beautiful work of cement art that tells a story, and, ultimately helps others.
That keeps me going.