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The Irresistable Must

Mon, 27 Apr 2026 21:18:50 GMT

Helen Keller said, “Life is either a daring adventure or nothing at all.”

I believe that’s true. And I believe we get to choose.

When I’ve found myself in seasons of depression, anxiety, hopelessness, or darkness, it’s often because I’m standing on the edge of change and I’m terrified to jump. I’m standing on the precipice, feeling the pull toward something new, while desperately trying to cling to what is safe, familiar, and known.

We all know the famous Tony Robbins quote: “Change happens when the pain of staying the same is greater than the pain of change.”

You know that feeling. Something feels off. You can’t quite explain it, but you don’t feel right in your own skin anymore.

You’re trying to force a square peg into a round hole.

You betray your authentic self to fit into what you think other people want from you, or what you think a “good person” should be satisfied with.

But being a good person shouldn’t require abandoning yourself.

The very desires, dreams, longings, and nudges inside of you were planted there for a reason. I believe they were divinely implanted.

At any point, you can ignore them. You can relinquish them or talk yourself out of them. But something important inside of us begins to die.

Portals offering change open and invite us into something more. Something bigger. Something more aligned. If we are brave enough to walk through, we rise to another level of living.

But these openings are often temporary.

If we ignore the nudge long enough, the opportunity can pass. We stay where we are—not because life there is necessarily bad, but because fear convinced us not to move. We remain at our pre-existing setpoint with familiar patterns, comforts, and limitations.

Sometimes that’s what happens in relationships, too. One person is ready to grow or take a leap. The other is not. One person sees the door open and feels called to walk through it. The other cannot. And sometimes what feels like a sudden ending is really just one person stepping through a door the other wasn’t willing to enter.

I remember the internal tension when considering moving from Florida to San Diego. On paper, it made no sense. I had a steady, well-paying job, a beautiful home with a pool, security, stability—all the trappings of what looked like a good life.

But something in me knew.

It wasn’t that I dropped everything overnight. I gave myself permission to explore. I spent a month living in San Diego to see if it truly aligned. To see if it felt like me. And within the first week, I knew. I knew in my bones. San Diego was calling me.

What I didn’t know was that making that decision would cost me that well-paying job.

There is almost always a cost when you leap. Something must often be released to make room for something better. You have to let go of what is in your hands so you can embrace what is waiting for you.

More importantly, I also knew if I didn’t make that move, I would be haunted for the rest of my life by the question, “What if I had been brave enough?”

That, to me, is the irresistible must.

When the thought of not doing the thing is more painful than the fear of trying, you must go.

I recently made another major life change that absolutely gutted me because, by all appearances, it looked good and right. It checked a lot of boxes. It made sense on paper. But the more I thought about my future, the less excited I became. And that was the tell.

I became more anxious. More upset. Even physically ill. My body was trying to tell me what my mind did not want to admit.

This war inside of me could only end with brutal honesty.

There are forks in the road throughout our lives, and free will means we get to choose our path. Sometimes, gloriously, the easy road is the right road. But often, the more fulfilling road is the one that demands courage and forces us out of our comfort zone. It stretches us into becoming more of who we truly are.

When I look back over my life, I can see these divine windows and doors everywhere.

There was a season to walk through when the opportunity was available.

When I said yes, my life expanded.

If I said no because of fear, I shrank.

That doesn’t mean you can’t still have a good life if you stay where you are. You can.

But is good the life you were born for? Is it a life of true fulfillment? Alignment? Abundance?

Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve said I never wanted to get to the end of my life and say, “I should have done this,” or “I wish I had tried that.”

Something in me always knew there would be moments when fulfillment would require a leap of faith.

I have stood on the end of that diving board many times—teetering, teetering, teetering.

But thank God, the pool was still full of water, and I could jump.

Sometimes, if you miss an opportunity, it may come around again. Life is gracious that way. Just like on QVC, another flea and tick collar may appear on the screen. But there are also moments when the door is only open for a season.

If you are willing, it can be thrilling to leap the minute the door opens.

Do yourself a favor and watch one of my all-time favorite movies, Defending Your Life, and put yourself in Albert Brooks' position. (If you want to cut to the chase, here's the final scene , and ff you're like me, you'll be cheering furiously for him as he faces fear head-on in pursuit of love.)

Ultimately, he loved himself enough to TRY.

Sheryl Sandberg famously said, “What would you do if you weren’t afraid?”

Fear, which is passive, will make your life smaller and smaller.

Faith, which requires action, will expand it.

Acts of faith renew your vibrancy, your zest, your sense of possibility.

Yes, you may disappoint some people along the way. But don’t grieve that too long.

Because far worse is to live with the regret of sleepwalking safely through a watered-down life that could have been a thrilling adventure.

In other words, "Get busy living, or get busy dying." - Andy Dufresne (Ti m Robbins, The Shawshank Redemption)

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The Other Side of Uncomfortable

Sat, 11 Apr 2026 20:00:15 GMT

For several years I had a Sunday morning ritual of saying a prayer, dipping my hand into a bag of words, and asking for what I needed most in the coming week.

I’d record the process and then improvise the thoughts that came to mind when the word of the week, or “WOW!” was revealed.

On one special morning, both my mom and sister happened to visit, and we did the ritual together.

That video is especially precious now. It's shocking to me how my sister NEVER ages and how different I look from ten years ago. But the real treasure is seeing my mom's sweet smile and hearing her speak, because we lost her in 2021.

Somehow, on a random Saturday in 2026, YouTube brought that very video up as a memory, and because I felt especially nostalgic for mom, I listened to the clip.

That Sunday, Mom did the honors and picked the word “exploration.”

A decade later, listening to the conversation that followed encouraged my own heart and inspired me to write about this beautiful concept.

When I hear the word exploration, I immediately think of uncharted territory. I think of maps and compasses and brave souls who decided there had to be more beyond the horizon.

But exploration is not just about climbing mountains or boarding planes to faraway places.

Sometimes exploration is much smaller and much more personal.

Sometimes it is saying yes to the thing that scares you.

Sometimes it is finally taking the class, making the phone call, auditioning for the play, submitting the proposal, going on the trip, writing the book, starting the business, or simply talking to the person you have convinced yourself would never understand you.

Exploration begins with curiosity.

Because if you're not curious, you don't explore anything. You stay in your own little safe world. You keep eating at the same restaurants, having the same conversations, driving the same routes, and making the same excuses.

Curiosity is what keeps us young. It whispers, “What if?”

What if I actually tried?

What if I surprised myself?

What if there's something wonderful waiting for me on the other side of uncomfortable?

My sister Shirlee has always loved the play Our Town. Not casually loved it. Loved it. She's seen it countless times and knows every scene by heart. Then one day, she saw an ad in the paper that a local community theater was holding auditions.

Now let me tell you what she did not say.

She did not say, “Absolutely! I was born for this!”

Nope.

She said all the things most of us say when life offers us an invitation.

“That’s crazy.”

“I don’t have time.”

“I’m not an actress.”

“I have no experience.”

Sound familiar?

But somehow, the stars aligned. One day worked with her schedule. One little door opened.

So she went.

And she was terrified.

She walked into that audition room and saw all these people who knew one another from years in the community theater world. She could have turned around and gone home.

But instead, she stayed.

And then something beautiful happened.

She realized she didn't have to be the star of the show. She didn't have to be the best one there. She did not have to prove anything.

She just had to be willing.

She left that audition feeling proud of herself just for showing up.

And then the phone rang.

She got the part.

Not because she had the most experience or the most polished performance, but because the director said they were so impressed by her enthusiasm.

I love that!

Because sometimes what we lack in ability, we make up for in heart.

Exploration is not always comfortable. In fact, it rarely is.

But there is something inside each of us that longs to stretch, to grow, to try, to see what might happen if we stop talking ourselves out of our own lives.

Recently, I was watching the animated movie Sing, and one of the characters has this incredible voice but is terrified to get on stage. The producer of the show tells her, “Whenever you’re afraid, just sing.”

I have thought about that line ever since.

Whenever you are afraid…just sing.

Or write.

Or speak.

Or ask.

Or apply.

Or go.

Whatever your version is, do that.

Because the thing you want is often sitting just on the other side of the thing you are afraid to do.

So maybe this is the week you stop talking yourself out of it.

Maybe this is the week you become an explorer.

Oh, the places you’ll go!

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Closer to Yes

Wed, 01 Apr 2026 16:20:54 GMT

When I speak to groups of municipal or county clerks, the audience is almost always 95% women. And I love that. I tailor every talk to the room I’m in, but there’s one analogy I come back to again and again because it always lands.

I’ll ask them: "If you knew you had one car that you were going to drive for the rest of your life, how would you take care of it?"

Oh, you already know the answer.

You’d baby that thing.
You’d wash it. Wax it.
Check the air in the tires.
Change the oil on time—every time.
You’d make sure everything was running exactly as it should, because it has to last.

And then I say:

"You do have one vehicle you’re going to live in for the rest of your life. It’s your body."

I like to call it the “meat suit.” (That usually gets a laugh.)

But it’s true. And I didn’t fully understand that until later in life that I was actually in training for old age.

I didn’t just want to get older. I wanted to stay strong. Vital. Clear. Alive.

That meant taking care of my body.
And my mind.
Because this is the only one I get.

That message always resonates—but at a recent event with the North Carolina County Clerks, something unexpected happened.

There was a gentleman in the room.

Completely outnumbered… and completely locked in.

When I shared the car analogy, his eyes lit up. You could feel it. He wasn’t just listening; he was recognizing something.

The next day, I was at the post office shipping out books that hadn’t sold (because let’s be honest, not every event is a sell-out moment), and I turned around…

...there he was.

Sparkling blue eyes. Big smile. Instant recognition.

He thanked me for the analogy and said, “I spent over 40 years in the car business. I know exactly what you’re talking about.”

Well, now I was curious. We started talking—and what unfolded stopped me in my tracks.

This man was 82 years old.

Eighty-two.

Sharp as a tack. Engaged. Alive.
He had retired 25 years ago and, since then, had started three additional businesses.
He runs a hobby farm with goats.
Has an Airbnb on his property.
And Denny Bucher had been re-elected to another term on the Craven County Board of Commissioners.

I mean… come on .

This wasn’t someone winding down.
This was someone fully alive.

So of course, I kept asking questions.

And then he told me a story I’ll never forget.

He said his career started at seventeen. It was summer, and there were no jobs available—except one: selling for the Fuller Brush Company. Door-to-door. Everything from toothbrushes to scrub brushes.

There was just one problem.

You had to be 21 to get the job.

But he was determined. Full of fire. He said, “Just give me a chance.”

And they did.

They gave him one small territory for one summer.

A “good” week back then? $300.

On his first assignment, he shadowed a seasoned salesperson. They worked an entire block for hours.

No sales.

Not one.

Discouraged, he turned to his mentor and said, “We just wasted the whole morning.”

And his mentor—beaming with excitement—said:

“What are you talking about? I’m thrilled.”

He said,

“Every ‘no’ gets me closer to the eventual ‘yes.’”

What an uplifting approach to the word “no!”

Later in his Fuller Brush career, he saw it play out in real time.

Back then, they would pay Boy Scouts a penny to go ahead of the salespeople and place flyers on doors, letting homeowners know someone would be stopping by.

After a series of consecutive “no’s,” he knocked on a door that had also been prepped.

The woman opened it and said:

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

She went on to explain that her daughter was getting married and she wanted to buy her everything.

Everything.

Now remember—a great week back then was $300.

Denny made $300 in one day.

One day!

Legendary.

And proof of something we all need to remember:

You might just be one “no” away from your “yes.”

I felt that one deeply.

Because in that moment, I wasn’t just listening to his story. I was living my own.

I had just come off a stretch of about three months of writing proposals. Good ones. Thoughtful ones. Well-received ones. But the response to each? "Not quite the right fit."

When you’re an entrepreneur building something on your own, every “no” has a little sting to it.

You start to wonder:

Am I doing the right thing?
Is this working?
Is this worth it?

And then, standing in a post office line, this 82-year-old man who had lived, built, failed, succeeded, and kept going handed me the perspective I didn’t know I needed.

Maybe the “no” isn’t rejection. Maybe it’s progression.

Maybe it’s not a sign that you’re off track.

Maybe—just maybe—

You’re getting closer to your yes.

So if you’re in a season right now where the doors aren’t opening. Where the responses aren’t coming.
Where it feels like you’re doing all the right things and still not seeing the results…

...Don’t stop.

Don’t retreat.

Don’t make it mean something it doesn’t.

You might not be failing.

You might be closing the distance.

Because somewhere out there there’s a door already prepared.
There’s a person already waiting.
There’s a “yes” with your name on it.

And you might be just one “no” away.

There's Always Another Train

Wed, 25 Feb 2026 19:49:08 GMT

The phrase “you snooze, you lose” has never been more profound than the moment I watched my Amtrak train to New York City whisk away… without me.

There I stood in frigid Wilmington, staring in disbelief as the train I was absolutely certain I had not missed headed confidently toward the Big Apple.

Let me back up.

I was early.

So early, in fact, that it was too cold to sit outside. I thought, I’ve got wiggle room. I’ll grab a coffee. Maybe a bagel. Why not enjoy a leisurely conversation with the lovely women in the café? I’m a seasoned air traveler.

I know how this works.

Hot java in hand, I returned to the platform with ten minutes to spare. Ten! Minutes!

Since this was my first solo train adventure, I decided to be extra responsible and gather my boarding pass and ID.

Boarding pass? Check.

Driver’s license?

Nowhere.

Eight minutes.

Back down to the café. “Has anyone found a license?”

Nope.

Police station on site?

Nope.

Information booth?

Nope.

One minute to departure.

My blood pressure rising, I sprinted to the elevator. And wouldn’t you know it—every other time I had taken it, it worked like a charm. This time? Slow as molasses. Surely boarding times are squishy, right? Surely they’ll wait?

When the doors finally opened, I saw the train.

And in my mind, it was pulling in.

It was not.

It was pulling out.

Twenty years. I haven’t missed a flight or train in almost twenty years. And there I was, watching mine disappear down the tracks.

I walked back to the kind woman at the ticket counter, tears brimming, and confessed, “I blew it. I missed it.”

Incredulous, she said, “How did you do that? You were here early!”

Which gave me the opportunity to recount my entire saga of coffee, lost ID, and elevator betrayal.

She helped me book the next train. It would cost me—but I was back on track (literally).

And here’s what I learned.

Lesson One: Departure Times Are Not Squishy.

If you’re taking an Amtrak train and you’re a newbie like me—don’t assume flexibility. Departure time means departure time.

You snooze, you lose.

Lesson Two: There Is Always Another Train.

When I told the ticket agent, “I’m having a really bad day,” she looked at me gently and said, “No, you’re not. There’s another train leaving in 45 minutes.”

Perspective is powerful.

When I finally sat down, breathed deeply, and reminded myself of my own mantra—that worrying never helps and beating yourself up is never productive—I began to calm down.

And guess what I found?

My license.

Hidden behind my coffee receipt. Wedged between business cards.

Of course.

I had prayed before this trip that it would be blessed. So I have to believe that missing that train was part of that blessing. Maybe it protected me from something I’ll never know about. Maybe it slowed me down in a way I needed. Maybe it simply reminded me that I am human.

I boarded VERY, very ready.

But more than that?

I did so determined to enjoy the ride.

Because sometimes the lesson isn’t about punctuality.

It’s about grace.

It’s about remembering that one mistake does not define the day.

It’s about trusting that when you miss a departure—literal or figurative—there is still a way forward.

There is still another train.

And when you miss yours next time (because you will; we all do), I hope you pause, breathe, and remember:

The journey isn’t ruined.

It’s just rerouted.

And sometimes rerouted roads carry unexpected blessings.

Falling to Pieces vs. Resting in Peace

Fri, 30 Jan 2026 16:58:18 GMT

Drama doesn’t always arrive in the form of a frenemy who knows exactly how to push your buttons, or that coworker who coughs and sneezes directly into the shared airspace as if germs are an act of community service.

It’s not limited to those little pockets of gossipers who stir discontent like it’s their side hustle, or even the teenager who can inflame your inner Scrooge with a single eye-roll.

Sometimes—more often than we like to admit—the drama is within us.

I experienced this in Technicolor this week.

It had been a wonderfully full stretch of speaking engagements; the kind of work that fuels every cell in my being. The first event was right here in San Diego with an open-hearted group eager to learn about empathy and customer service. A huge success!

I walked to my car floating… but that float had to turn into fast-forward. I needed to get home, repack, and hit the road for San Bernardino, normally an hour and a half drive. But today? Thanks to traffic patterns apparently inspired by Dante’s Inferno, it was closer to three hours.

I carefully packed while juggling a flurry of texts and emails that had come in during the San Diego event.

Distracted? Yes. Undaunted? Also yes. Off I went!

After the multi-hour crawl eastward, I pulled into the Hilton Garden Inn, exhausted but ready to unpack, get a good night’s sleep, and deliver The Public Servants' Survival Guide to the employees of the San Bernardino County Communications Department the next morning.

Laptop? Check. Outfit on hangers? Check.

But my turquoise suitcase ?

Nowhere.

Not in the trunk.

Not in the backseat. Not under the seats (as if a suitcase could slither under there and hide).

It was the emotional equivalent of opening the refrigerator, finding nothing appealing, and checking again five minutes later in case snacks magically appeared.

There was no turquoise suitcase.

In that moment, I had a choice.

One option was a full-blown meltdown. I mean, how in the world was I going to face a new client without makeup, toiletries, contact lens solution, underwear, hairspray, shoes (yes, even my shoes were in that bag), or anything resembling “speaker-ready polish”?

Or...I could take a breath.

My first response? Negative self-talk.

"Are you KIDDING me? Brenda! What a bozo move."

But my own words, taught to thousands in the very training I prepared to deliver the next day rang in my heart.

Step away from the drama.

Beating yourself up when you're already down? It never helps. It only pours salt into the wound. And as I had just written in Grace for the Grinch , carrying a dark cloud over my head wasn’t going to help me show up for the San Bernardino team the way they deserved.

So I talked with myself. Are there any other singles out there who do the same? We make excellent sounding boards for ourselves when we are not inclined to vent to others and when we do not want to energize negativity further.

I simply asked myself:

Did this happen? Yes.
Can I change it? No.
But can I choose my response? Absolutely.

The very words I preach in every keynote rose in my spirit:

You can’t control what happens to you. You can only control how you respond to it.

And suddenly the question became:
Where might I procure every essential I just lost—makeup, shoes, toiletries, the whole nine yards?

The answer appeared like a beacon of hope:

Target.

I’ve never been so thrilled to see that red bullseye in my life, sitting just one mile from my hotel.

Yes, I was bone tired. Yes, the last thing I felt like doing was color-matching foundation or selecting emergency speaking shoes.

(Side note: Target’s shoe game? Surprisingly impressive.) But one hour later, I was back in my room, unpacking my brand-new toiletries and thinking: Drama dodged. Crisis averted.

Here’s the truth:
Things will always go wrong.

Sometimes through no fault of our own. Sometimes entirely because of us.

But adding emotional fireworks doesn’t fix a thing.
Beating yourself up makes it worse.
And occasionally, those disasters make the best stories, especially when you’re a storyteller like me.

In fact, this very saga became one of the highlights of my keynote the next morning. (People love a good turquoise-suitcase saga.)

Will I always double-check for the suitcase from now on? You bet.
Will I let mishaps steal my joy? Maybe a little bit (hey, I'm human!) but as time goes on, I've learned to shorten the allotted time for pity parties and temper tantrums.

These bumps in the road make for excellent practice in stepping away from drama.

You can regulate your emotions.
You can turn a bad turn of events into a great story.
And you can protect your peace—even from yourself.

May your suitcase always make it into the car.
But if it doesn’t? Try not to fall to pieces .

Step away from drama and protect your peace. e-wide paragraph and title styles, go to Site Theme.

Sacrifice vs. Surrender: The Hardest Lesson for a "Make-it-Happen" Woman

Wed, 21 Jan 2026 23:53:23 GMT

I've always been a "make it happen" kind of person.

If there’s a goal in front of me, I move toward it.

If there’s a problem in the way, I solve it.

If there’s something I want, I work for it, strategize for it, chase it, build it, force it into existence if I have to.

And for a long time, I wore that like a badge of honor.

But reflection has revealed something deeper beneath all that hustle, grit, and drive.

A lot of it started when I lost my dad.

I was ten years old.

Most little girls can count on a father to be there to protect, to provide, to lead, to make things happen.

We don’t get to choose the cards we’re handed in life…but that one was a blow that shaped more than just my childhood.

It shaped my wiring.

It planted an invisible belief that has followed me into adulthood like a shadow:

If I don’t make it happen, it won’t.

And that belief?

It can make you brave.

It can also make you tired.

The Faith I Claim and the Trust I Struggle to Live

Here’s where it gets real.

I have faith in God.

I am a self-avowed person of faith.

And yet I’m challenged by the scripture (paraphrased) “He acts for those who wait for Him.” (Is. 64:4)

Which sounds beautiful and comforting and holy.

Except for one problem.

I am a terrible waiter.

Some people admire this about me.

They see an idea come into my mind and—boom—it becomes real, because I make it real.

And yes, that capability has created so much in my life.

But lately, I’ve been asking a question that makes me squirm a little: How many blessings have I missed because I refused to wait?

Because if I’m being honest, there are times I’m not actually waiting on God…

I’m sprinting ahead of Him.

The Humbling Truth About My Life’s Best Moments

When I slow down enough to tell the truth in my prayer chair, another truth meets me there:

So many of the blessings I enjoy today had nothing to do with my power, my hustle, my excellence, my planning, or my effort.

There have been moments of protection. Times I should’ve paid the price for foolishness or suffered the consequence of recklessness. So many occasions when I should’ve experienced the full impact of “my own doing.”

But instead?

There was grace.

Grace covering me.

Grace redirecting me.

Grace shielding me.

So one part of me knows I can trust.

But another part; the fear-based part - the part that still remembers being ten years old resists relinquishing control.

Because she learned early that control feels like safety.

When Blessings Trigger Fear

Here’s what I didn’t expect.

Sometimes the hardest moment to trust isn’t when life is falling apart.

Sometimes, the hardest moment to trust is when life starts coming together.

A current blessing in my life is an answer to prayer.

And in so many ways, I should just be celebrating! Enjoying. Savoring.

Instead, I find myself staring into the future, obsessing over timelines and outcomes.

Wondering about happy endings.

Feeling vulnerable in the unknown.

And when I give in to those fears, my instinct is intense:

Cut and run.

Sacrifice the blessing.

Walk away before it can hurt you.

Today, in my quiet time, I heard something that stopped me in my tracks:

“You’re more comfortable sacrificing than surrendering.”

Whew.

That one landed.

Because sacrifice is familiar.

But surrender?

Surrender requires something I’m not naturally skilled at:

Restraint.

A Shift in How I View the Virtue of Meekness

I found myself thinking about the definition of meekness.

It's not the version of weakness we insult people with.

The real definition is far from weakness.

Meekness is restrained power.

Which is not exactly my brand!

I’m not meek or mild.

I often rise like a lion to take what’s mine, protect what’s mine, secure what matters, and make sure I’m okay.

But then I remember “The meek shall inherit the earth.” (Matthew 5:5)

And meekness isn’t fragility.

Meekness is strength under control; power that could dominate, but instead chooses peace.

And I have to ask myself:

Isn’t this a virtue worth cultivating?

Isn’t it possible that surrender isn’t losing, but rather maturing?

The Fork in the Road: Sacrifice or Surrender

Here’s what I know without a doubt. When I “vote” with sacrifice by abandoning something good out of fear, I may feel temporary relief.

But it comes with a hefty price involving torment, angst, pressure, second-guessing, heaviness, and spiritual unrest.

When I vote with surrender because I decide to trust, here's what also shows up:

peace
ease
calm
steadiness

A quiet confidence I didn’t manufacture.

The older I get, the more I want that kind of life.

Not just a life that looks impressive.

A life that feels like freedom.

So now I’m sitting with a question I haven't asked in far too long:

Do I want peace more than I want what I want?

I don’t fully have the answer yet.

But I do know what the still small voice keeps saying.

Not once.

Not occasionally.

But persistently.

Surrender.

Maybe This Is What Healing Looks Like

Maybe surrender is the healing work of the little girl in me.

The one who lost her protector too soon.

The one who decided she’d never be caught helpless again.

The one who learned to perform strength so well, no one would ever see her fear.

Maybe surrender is how she learns she’s safe now.

Not because life is predictable.

Not because outcomes are guaranteed.

Not because I’ve controlled every variable.

But because God can be trusted.

Even here.

Even now.

Even when I don’t know how it ends.

A Closing Thought for the One Who Feels Like Me

If you’re reading this and you’re also a make-it-happen person.

If your strength was forged in loss; your independence born from disappointment, or if you learned to hold everything together because nobody else did…

...consider something tender and true:

Sacrifice is not always bravery.

Sometimes sacrifice is fear dressed up as control.

And surrender is not weakness.

Surrender is strength with open hands.

It’s breathing in the unknown and trusting you won’t be abandoned in it.

So today, I’m practicing restraint.

Not because I don’t have power.

But because I do .

And I’m learning to let peace lead.

Because when I surrender, I feel the shift:

Less pressure.

More presence.

Less striving.

More settling.

Less torment.

More trust.

And maybe that is the real blessing.

Throw Yourself Into Life: What My Friend Frederika Taught Me

Wed, 31 Dec 2025 19:40:00 GMT

It feels like divine intervention that Frederika Brookfield and I ever became upstairs–downstairs neighbors.

At first glance, we couldn’t have seemed more different.

The first time I met her, she appeared in her pajamas, walking her dog Olive in slippers and a fluffy hat topped with a pom-pom larger than life itself. My immediate thought was: This is a woman profoundly comfortable in her own skin.

Still, I kept a friendly distance. Neighbor friendships can be tricky, and all I wanted was peace. So for a while, our exchanges stayed at polite hellos.

But life has a way of dissolving the walls we think we need.

Months later, I noticed Frederika had lost weight and complimented her—only to hear her say, matter-of-factly: “Cancer.”

In that moment, compassion replaced caution. I realized I didn’t want distance at all. I wanted to be there for her. And from that day on, our friendship bloomed.

We spent countless hours together—sometimes doing nothing more than “sitting and staring” in Adirondack chairs, watching life unfold around us from our front landing. She knew every neighbor by name, loved this community, and radiated color and presence wherever she went.

I was endlessly fascinated by her big, bold life—stories from Condé Nast, working with Ted Turner, “sort of, kind of” dating Jerry Seinfeld, her many glamorous New York and international adventures.

Surprisingly, she was equally fascinated by mine.

She’d listen wide-eyed as I talked about building a business from scratch and reinventing my life in San Diego. That was her magic: she celebrated not just her own courage, but everyone else’s too.

Frederika slipped into the role of upstairs sister effortlessly. At my book launch, she arrived with a lint brush, zipped up my dress, checked the back of my hair, and made sure I looked stage-ready. Sometimes we even called each other “roommates,” despite living in separate apartments.

She taught me how to pronounce designer names properly—and she didn’t just say them, she wore them. Whether in her signature orange or a deep forest green, paired with her striking red hair and freckles, Frederika stood out in any crowd.

Our friendship wasn’t perfect, nor was it meant to be. Olive’s nonstop barking occasionally revealed a… less-than-gracious side of me. We had our speedbumps, but those tiny bumps only made the relationship more real.

As her condition worsened, it became my privilege to drive her to medical appointments. We sat together in waiting rooms, stopped for smoothies at Parakeet Café, and sometimes she'd ask me to pray for her. On her last Christmas Eve, she came with me to church and—true to form—asked the pastor not to pray for her, but for others who might be struggling. That was the heart of Frederika: generous, outward-focused, endlessly compassionate.

We were two single women navigating modern dating together, trying the apps and discovering there weren’t “plenty of fish” (more often, just sardines.)

When I eventually fell in love, she asked, “Can he hurt you?”

I said yes.

“That’s the price of love,” I told her.

And when that relationship ended, she stationed herself firmly on Team Brenda, making sure I didn’t stay heart-sore for long.

In her final month, when in hospice, I spent most days by her side. Two moments from that time will stay with me forever.

One afternoon she woke from a nap, briefly lucid, and said: “I want to know God.”

We prayed together, and because of that moment, I am confident she is now at peace.

On another day, I asked her : “What’s the one lesson you want me to carry forward?”
Her answer: “Throw yourself into life.”

Throw yourself into life.

Don’t tiptoe. Don’t wait. Don’t hold back.

Live fully. Love deeply. Savor everything.

Those words are etched on my heart.

I loved Frederika. I miss her every day. She made me laugh, think, cry, and grow. Her gifts surround me still—her scarves, her books, her plants, and especially her lessons. When I see the color orange or open a Mary Oliver poem, she’s right there.

We were different in many ways. She preferred chamber concerts, I'd rather karaoke.

But we built a joyful, mutual admiration society. And her imprint on my life is forever.

There’s a quote that says: “In the end, we are all just walking each other home.”

What a privilege to walk Frederika home.

Thank you, my friend, for modeling a big, beautiful life.

And for reminding us all to throw ourselves into it.

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Grace for the Grinch

Sat, 22 Nov 2025 17:53:21 GMT

I’m known for being sunshine and rainbows wherever I go.

I’m the girl who adds a spicy song to the gym playlist to get the whole room pumped up. I compliment total strangers on the street. I pet every puppy I pass. And all of that is authentically me.

But it’s not all of me.

I was reminded of that—profoundly—yesterday on a rare rainy day in La Jolla.

There I was in a line of about twenty people at the CVS pharmacy, just wanting to get home, crawl under the covers, and call it a night. It had been that kind of day.

In front of me stood a woman with a tiny dog wandering around on the world’s longest leash. She was oblivious to everyone around her, deep in conversation on her phone. At one point, she threw her hands up to gesture wildly and nearly smacked me in the face. Then she started backing up and almost stepped on me.

And out it came—the full-on Philadelphia Eagles, City-of-Brotherly-Shove version of me:

“Hey, I’m right behind you here.”

Now, it wasn’t unreasonable to ask her to be aware of her surroundings. But it was the way I said it—my tone, my face, my whole energy—that announced, "Don’t test me, lady."

Instantly, I was annoyed… not just with her but with myself.

I didn’t have the capacity—like flipping a switch—to soften my mood. And her response didn’t help: a series of exaggerated, performative apologies clearly meant to chastise me for daring to call her out.

My annoyance doubled. I avoided eye contact. I finished my business.

And then the thought hit me:

What if she shows up at church on Sunday… and there I am in the prayer line?

What kind of testimony was that ?

As I began beating myself up, a deeper truth surfaced:
My testimony has never been one of perfection.

Pretending otherwise would betray all I've learned about authenticity.

I’ve always said I’m “flawsome,” and yesterday was a reminder of why that word matters.

I even fantasized about running into her again so I could apologize. Or better yet, having her show up at church so I could make it right. But in the meantime, I realized something:

I was making a tense situation worse by being so hard on myself .

Because here’s the thing…

We’re going to run into some grinches this holiday season.

People are stressed.
Bank accounts are shrinking.
Presents need buying. Cookies need baking.
Family triggers multiply like snowflakes.
Relatives with the magical ability to say the exactly wrong thing will be seated at your table.

But beyond all that, there will also be moments when WE are the Grinch.

And that’s why my exhortation this holiday season is simple:

Show grace to yourself.

Walk in this grace long enough, and you’ll have more than enough to offer everyone else.

Grace is most needed (and most powerful) when we feel weak.

So if you’re feeling weak this week, weary, stretched thin, or a little more green-and-grumpy than usual…

Access some grace.
And sprinkle it like glitter
over everything and everyone—
including yourself.

Slathered With Love: Of Life and Raisin Bread

Sun, 09 Nov 2025 04:48:45 GMT

Don’t think for one minute that this post will detail my culinary prowess.

Not a chance.

I am amazed at people that can just “whip something up” and actually cook meals.

There are three basic categories in my recipe repertoire: Red-gravy (commonly referred to as 'sauce' for pasta and my baked ziti), Thanksgiving dinner sides (corn casserole, sausage stuffing) and Mom-Mom’s raisin bread.

I admire you Julia Child’s and Rachel Ray’s out there – you who lovingly prepare a meal and bless your family and friends with your artistry. I have eaten at your tables and applaud your gift.

I never met a home-cooked meal (or any meal for that matter) that I didn’t like. (Unless it starred olives.)

Strangely, despite my lack of culinary finesse, I have always had a fascination for RECIPES.

I collect them, ripping them out of unsuspecting magazines with a fervor that would suggest I might actually make them. But I don’t. (This syndrome calls to mind a former roommate who would studiously watch Jane Fonda workout videos while eating a bag of Fritos.)

My love for recipes began in my grandmother’s kitchen. Mom-mom was always baking something wonderful – apple pies (and giving us grandkids mini-tarts with the leftover dough) and each Christmas, her amazing raisin bread. She was a free-wheeling baker, with flour dusting the entire kitchen (and our hair and noses) by the time she was done.

The smell that wafted through the entire house was nutmeg and sugar – and the feeling it gave? Tidings of comfort and joy.

When I was a young teenager, my propensity for hoarding recipes emerged and I asked Mom-mom if I could copy all of the “go-to” creations that lived in her Dutch-wonderland-style tin.

It's been over 50 years, but when I see my tweenage handwriting and my mom's sausage filling recipe, front and center, I can't help but smile.

Inside? The Mom-mom's secrets to homemade doughnuts and meatloaf and Wheatie cookies and chicken croquettes.

Nope, never made them.

Later, I added my mom's famous recipes – ricotta cookies, biscotti, pizza dolce. (Except for her sausage filling, I’ve never attempted her specialties, either.)

But there’s something about that raisin bread.

About 20 years ago, I decided to carry on my grandmother’s tradition and send it out for all the world to eat. Well, if not the world, at least my immediate family and friends.

I’ll never forget when my mom’s sister, Aunt Joan, told me (several years into my new tradition) that the raisins should be soaked for a half hour to plump them, then lightly coated with flour so that they don’t all drop to the bottom of the loaf. Who knew?

After correcting the raisin ritual, the loaves were usually yummy, if occasionally fraught with imperfections.

Like the year the KitchenAid medallion fell off the mixer and into the dough. And I didn't even notice.

Fortunately, my sister Shirlee got THAT loaf. We shared a belly laugh and, years later, continue to let that foible tickle our funny bones.

I've learned that even if the loaf isn’t perfect, if you toast it first and slather it with butter, it can’t HELP but be good.

In truth, how can ANYTHING toasted and slathered with butter be bad?

When I first began this new tradition, I was anxious. After all, who could live up to Edna Hartsell’s amazing raisin bread?

Then I settled it: It wasn’t about how tasty the bread or perfect the loaf, but more about the love behind the gesture.

Which translates to every area of life.

I may not be the next big thing, the brightest light, or the best at many things.

But if what I do is “slathered with love” – how can it fail?

(Can you tell that “slathered” is one of my favorite words?)

As we embark on a festive season that should be filled with gratitude, connection, and happy memories made, don't let missteps or imperfections steal your joy.

If you didn't forget the love, it'll be perfect.

Don't just sprinkle, SLATHER.

It's the one ingredient you can never have too much of - and it never will fail you.

Do Something Kind for Your Future Self

Wed, 10 Sep 2025 02:02:09 GMT

How are you taking care of your future self?

For me, it often begins with little kindnesses that make me smile before the day even starts. Like waking up to find a brand-new pod already placed in my Keurig, the water tank filled and ready to go. All I have to do is press a button, and the glorious smell of coffee wafts through my tiny apartment.

Or, instead of fumbling bleary-eyed through my bathroom vanity for contact lenses, I love it when I’ve set them out the night before—left eye, right eye—ready for me to start the day with ease.

These are small, thoughtful gifts I leave for myself.

But there are bigger ways we look after our future selves, too.

As James Clear, author of Atomic Habits, reminds us: “Every action you take is a vote for the type of person you wish to become.” Small acts compound into big outcomes, often in ways we don’t realize until much later.

I remember when my mother’s doctor told her—at about the same age I am now—that she needed to start moving, or she would risk frailty later in life. She tried mall walking for a few weeks, but the habit didn’t stick. The years passed, and eventually, she needed both a walker and oxygen.

I think of her often when I’m strength training or doing Zumba. Every squat, every bead of sweat is an act of love for the life I want to live tomorrow. I smile because I know I’m building strength and resilience for my future self.

Growing older, to me, has come to mean growing better—wiser, stronger, more intentional.

Each hard thing I’ve ever done has left a touchstone of resilience inside me, reminding me if I did it once, I can do it again.

Sometimes, you don’t even realize you’re making provision for your future self until years later.

As the first person in my family to go to college, I mistakenly thought it was normal to take 18 credits every semester. I didn’t know most students capped themselves at 15! I just hustled along, doing what seemed necessary. But that “mistake” meant I graduated a full semester early—saving tuition, starting my career sooner, and setting myself up with momentum I never would have planned. What felt like simply “keeping up” turned out to be an incredible gift to my future self.

It reminds me of a quote by Annie Dillard: “How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives.”

Day by day, credit by credit, squat by squat—what we do today writes the story of our tomorrow.

When I speak on stages, I often say, "If you had one car to drive for the rest of your life, how would you care for it?"

Of course, you’d use the best fuel, change the oil, check the tires, keep it washed and waxed. And yet—we do have one vehicle for life: our bodies. This “meat suit,” as I sometimes call it, is the only one we get. How we care for it now—through movement, nutrition, rest, and kindness—shapes how it will respond later.

Yes, there will always be twists in the road and things we can’t plan for. But that doesn’t negate the impact of small, daily actions of self-care that ripple forward in time.

One week, when my calendar looked light, I batched and scheduled a whole month’s worth of social media posts. Days later, I found out a friend was coming to visit me in San Diego for two weeks. Because I’d already done the work, I could be fully present—showing her the sights, enjoying the moments—without worrying about neglecting my business.

That’s the beauty of it: when there’s flow, go with it. When you have energy, invest it.

When you have time, sow seeds for tomorrow.

Because if you love your present self, you’ll make provision for your future self.

Or, as Maya Angelou wisely said: “If you don’t like something, change it. If you can’t change it, change your attitude.” Both today and tomorrow benefit when we choose wisely in the moment.

So—what’s one small act of kindness you can do today that will make tomorrow’s you smile?

Elevator Evangelism

Sat, 09 Aug 2025 15:06:01 GMT

Recently, I had a crunchy $5,000 lesson in imperfection.

While exiting the parking garage at Lifetime Fitness—a garage I’ve probably pulled out of a thousand times—I misjudged the narrow exit and sheared the side mirror clean off my SUV.

Yep. Just hanging there like a busted earring. It was one of those moments that etches itself into your nervous system. Now, every time I drive in or out, I’m gripping the wheel like it’s a tightrope act.

But something interesting happened after the accident.

I started telling people.

I’d find myself in the elevator, striking up conversations with unsuspecting gym members, warning them about the treacherous garage exit like some kind of Parking Garage Evangelist.

It became a way to make meaning out of the mistake.

If I could save just one person from the heartbreak of unexpected bodywork, maybe—just maybe—my pain wasn’t wasted.

It got me thinking about how often we hide our missteps, especially if we identify (consciously or not) as perfectionists.

According to research published in Psychological Bulletin, nearly 30% of undergraduates exhibit clinical levels of perfectionism, and the numbers are rising across all age groups. The World Health Organization even links perfectionism to increased risks of anxiety, depression, and burnout.

It’s not just striving for excellence—it’s equating self-worth with flawless performance.

And that’s a recipe for chronic dissatisfaction.

I’ve learned (the hard way) that people don’t connect with your perfection. They connect with your humanity.

When I speak to audiences, it’s never the polished parts of my life that draw nods and knowing smiles—it’s the messy bits. The heartbreaks. The ugly cries. The missteps that turned into milestones.

As Brené Brown puts it:

“Imperfections are not inadequacies; they are reminders that we’re all in this together.”

And Elizabeth Gilbert once wrote:

“Perfectionism is just fear in fancy shoes and a mink coat, pretending to be elegant when actually it’s just terrified.”

So, what’s the antidote?

1. Embrace Your Flawsomeness ®

I trademarked this phrase in 2018, but I'm still learning to live it! There is zero shame in being a beautiful work in progress. The older I get, the more joy I find in saying, “Yep, that was me. Cracked mirror and all.” Confidence isn’t about having it all together—it’s about not needing to.

2. Laugh at Yourself (Often)

Zumba class taught me this. When I totally botch a Samba move, instead of spiraling into self-judgment, I own the misstep—maybe even with an exaggerated hip swing for flair. Make it part of the dance. There’s magic in not taking yourself so seriously.

3. Turn Messes Into Messages

Whether it’s a story for your next dinner party, a blog post, or a way to uplift a friend—your missteps are raw material for connection. Life isn’t a highlight reel. It’s a blooper reel full of bloops worth sharing.

4. Practice Self-Compassion

Perfectionism says, “You are only as good as your latest achievement.” Self-compassion says, “You are enough, mistakes and all.” And the science backs it up: studies show that people who practice self-compassion have greater emotional resilience, lower stress, and healthier relationships.

So the next time life goes sideways—whether it’s a mirror, a missed step, or a major letdown—try this:

Take a breath.

Tell the story.

Make it part of the dance.

Because your imperfections don’t disqualify you. They humanize you. And they just might be your most beautiful feature.

Want to pass this along to a fellow perfectionist? Go ahead. You might just save someone a $5,000 repair—and a lifetime of unrealistic expectations.

#Flawsome #ProgressOverPerfection #MakeItPartOfTheDance #BrenéSaidSo #RealIsTheNewPerfect

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When Joy Finds You Along the Way

Tue, 01 Jul 2025 19:45:16 GMT

They say that expectation is the root of all heartache.

And while Shakespeare may have said it differently, the sentiment rings true—especially in a world where we’ve been conditioned to strive, hustle, pursue, and plan every second of joy like it’s a productivity metric to be hit.

But what if joy isn’t something you chase?

What if, instead, it’s something that sneaks up on you—like a surprise gift in an ordinary moment?

That’s exactly what happened to me on a recent Southwest Airlines flight. You know the drill: no assigned seating, a race to find a decent row, and usually a personal pact to keep your earbuds in and your head down. That was my plan.

I plopped into a seat next to a professional-looking man, fully prepared to disengage for the next four hours.

But something unexpected happened.

We started to talk.

Not just small talk, either. We talked about where we came from and what shaped us.

We talked about dreams, disappointments, and how both have a strange way of molding us into the people we were meant to be.

We talked about food and travel, faith and failures. And somewhere between 30,000 feet and four hours later, the conversation turned to, “So, what do you do?”

By the time we landed, I had not only made a genuine new friend—I had a contract to coach a member of his executive leadership team.

Here’s the thing: had I kept those earbuds in and stayed locked in my own world, I would have missed it. That moment. That connection. That opportunity. That joy.

Maya Angelou once said, “Hope and fear cannot occupy the same space. Invite one to stay.” But I’d take it a step further—let go of rigid expectations, and make room for wonder instead.

It’s not about expecting nothing from life.

It’s about releasing the script and trusting the unfolding.

It’s about believing something wonderful can happen—it just might not look the way you thought it would.

Harvard happiness researcher Arthur Brooks reminds us that the pursuit of happiness can actually make us less happy if we’re not careful.

The real magic?

It’s not in the striving. It’s in the receiving.

He says that happiness grows when we nurture faith, family, friendship—and live in alignment with our deepest values. In other words: authenticity.

Which brings me to something I recently heard from a scientist studying joy and love. They expected the highest vibrations in the human body to come from love and joy. But the most surprising spikes—the goosebump kind—came from moments of authenticity . When people were real. Raw. Vulnerable. Speaking from the heart.

Turns out, authenticity isn’t just a virtue. It’s a frequency.

So maybe we don’t need to chase love or joy or happiness like elusive finish lines.

Maybe we just need to show up as ourselves, wholeheartedly.

To look someone in the eye instead of away.

To stay open instead of closed.

To listen instead of scroll.

To talk to the stranger in seat 12B.

And maybe—just maybe—that’s where joy lives.

Not in the destination. But along the way.

Let your guard down. Let your earbuds out. Let something wonderful in.

The Pain and Promise of Pruning

Sat, 26 Apr 2025 03:30:13 GMT

Ouch!

Have you ever experienced progress or growth — a dream unfolding, a door opening, a blessing flowing — and suddenly it gets cut back?

It’s easy to feel like something’s gone wrong.

The initial sting tends to activate our inner critic.

"I should have seen it coming!" "How could I have made such a foolish mistake?" "When will I ever learn?"

After a recent disappointment, I lost heart.

And then a friend reminded me about pruning.

Pruning cuts away what looks alive.

It trims even healthy growth so that the branch can thrive in the long term, bearing more fruit, richer fruit, lasting fruit.

Without pruning, a plant will eventually get overgrown, tangled, and weak.

Its energy will be scattered instead of focused.

Its best potential will be stifled under the weight of too many branches.

A master gardener sees what we cannot.

They know when a branch is carrying too much.

They know when old blooms, though beautiful once, are now stealing strength from what could be.

They know that cutting back isn’t cruelty; it’s care.

Knowing that I am a person of faith, my friend quoted John 15:2 where Jesus says: “Every branch that bears fruit, He prunes, that it may bear more fruit.”

Pruning isn't punishment.

It's not because we're failing.

Pruning is preparation for a future harvest we can't yet imagine.

In the midst of a disappointment, a broken heart, or the death of a dream, it's hard to believe that there could be something more and better than what you've lost.

But while you have breath, it's never too late to dream another dream.

I know, you thought, "This is IT!"

And then, it wasn't.

Feel all the feelings. Mourn the turn of events. But don't milk it for too long.

Because (this bears repeating): While you have breath, it's never too late to dream another dream.

One that will make the old one jealous, it's so much better.

That burst of blooming? It wasn't wrong.

The blessing wasn’t a mistake. It was a beginning.

Pruning redirected the plant’s energy; preparing it for something greater.

If you are in a season where it feels like life is being trimmed, shaped, or even painfully cut back — take heart.

I'm not dismissing the pain. Pruning feels like loss. Like failure. Even rejection.

But consider that instead of being cast aside, you are being cultivated.

You are not being punished.

You are being prepared for something greater.

And I can't wait to wa tch it bloom, for you AND me.

New Paragraph

An Ode to "Nice"

Sun, 30 Mar 2025 20:58:04 GMT

The word "nice" always felt "meh" to me.

But life has me rethinking this word, because I'm experiencing how powerful nice can be.

For half a year, I've been friends with David Wetherelt and our conversations are rich with meaning. He says things, and I find myself thinking about them for days to come.

Then he does things that make my heart crunch.

This was best displayed when traveling for work in January. I would have missed a church event that mattered to me.

So he brought me on his phone (and put a tiara atop his device.)

As you can imagine, my heart continues to grow fonder of this dear man each day, and we recently documented a shared conversation that transported us into the soil of something we’re discovering together: the quiet, powerful, gravitational force of true kindness.

Listen in...

Brenda: “We throw the word ‘nice’ around like it’s filler. You say something was nice and it sounds like a polite brush-off. But I’ve come to realize, especially through you, David, that ‘nice’ is sacred.”

David: “Yeah. It’s like gravity. It’s everywhere. You don’t notice it unless it’s missing—and without it, nothing works. It doesn’t scream for attention, but it holds everything together.”

His analogy struck a chord. We often celebrate love, passion, and intensity, but overlook the very medium in which these emotions thrive. David likens “nice” to the atmosphere—essential, invisible, and foundational.

David: “Nice isn’t the fire. It’s the air that feeds it. You can be in conflict and still be nice. You can even be angry and still be nice. It’s not about being a doormat."

Nice is about choosing to stay grounded in respect, even when the storm hits.

As we explored the idea, I reflected on my own past. Moments when cruelty surfaced unexpectedly—scars left behind by words that crossed lines never meant to be crossed.

Those moments make the presence of real kindness feel like a healing balm.

Brenda: “Once someone steps outside of love and says something deeply cruel, it changes everything. It’s like a crumpled piece of paper—you can’t smooth it out again.”

David: “Exactly. And sometimes what we think is love is just masking. People going through the motions, doing nice, not being nice. There’s a difference between performing kindness and embodying it.”

He’s been on that journey too—unmasking, shedding artificial layers of sweetness inherited from a world soaked in performance. For David, this revelation wasn’t just personal—it became the heartbeat of his work.

Through his non-pro fit Like Minds , David helps people with late-diagnosed Autism and ADHD unearth their true selves. Many of them, like David, have spent lifetimes performing, people-pleasing, and chasing acceptance.

David: “I tell my clients, ‘Just be nice to yourself today.’ That’s it. You don’t have to conquer the world or solve everything. Just stop beating yourself up. Be nice to you.”

It’s a truth that echoes the teachings of Tara Brach, a teacher and author we both admire:

“Radical acceptance is the willingness to experience ourselves and our lives as it is.”

And also of Scripture:

“Love is patient, love is kind… It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.” — 1 Corinthians 13:4-7

But David sees kindness—nice—as even more elemental than love.

David: “Love is sunlight—warm, energizing, healing. But love can burn, too. Nice is gravity. It’s the constant that holds everything in place."

"I honestly think you can’t really reach true, authentic love without walking through the front door of nice.”

That was a revelation. All the grand gestures, the fireworks, the intense chemistry—it means little if the atmosphere isn’t nice. If the space between two people isn’t safe.

David: “We’ve made nice sound like a consolation prize. But it’s the prize. It’s what makes everything else possible.”

I think back to a weekend early in our relationship. We made dinner, sang karaoke, wandered through an art show. To me, it was a whirlwind of joy.

His text afterward? “That was really nice.”

At first, I bristled.

Just nice?

But now, I get it. From David, “nice” isn’t lukewarm—it’s holy. It means safe. It means real. It means home.

David: “We’ve got this idea that to be powerful, you need to be loud or intense. But nice?

Nice is steady. It’s quiet. It’s love in its gentlest, most enduring form.”

So yes, this was an interview. But it was also a love letter—to David, to our shared journey, and to the force that underpins it all.

Nice is not weak. Nice is what lets us be strong.

Nice is not passive. Nice is the soil where every beautiful thing grows.

Nice is not boring. It’s what makes magic sustainable.

May we all remember to return to it.

David: “Don’t forget about nice. Never forget about nice.”

D avid Wetherelt is the President of Like Minds, a nonprofit focused on peer coaching for neurodivergent individuals, and a consultant for the Autism Society of San Diego. He is a writer, speaker, and advocate for compassionate systems of care, grounded in authenticity and—of course—nice.

Even butterflies can't resist nice.

Life Gave Me Lemons (and it was a Good Thing!)

Wed, 12 Feb 2025 04:52:22 GMT

Bleary-eyed and still un-caffeinated, I stumbled to my backyard to get early morning sun in my eyes as recommended by my celeb crush, Andrew Huberman .

He's the handsome neuroscientist that also inspired me to work out regularly, sauna 20 minutes four times a week, and swoon over science.

The sun advice? Apparently, 5-10 minutes of morning sun exposure without sunglasses can significantly improve your circadian rhythm, mood, and sleep quality by signaling your body to wake up and suppress melatonin production. Caution: Be careful not to look directly at the sun and blink frequently if needed.

So there I was, blinking frequently, when my friend Nicol showed up with Gracie Little, her 7-year old ADORABLE chihuahua. I occasionally babysit for Littles (as we affectionately call her), which helps out my friend and feeds my puppy dog fix.

"Cool!" she exclaims. "Look at your lemons!"

Lemons?

"Nicol, that's a rose bush!" I responded.

She pointed.

I saw no lemons.

C'mon! I've lived here over two years now. Surely if there were lemons, I would've seen them, right?

Nicol pointed emphatically and raised her voice an octive.

"Brenda! Look closer!"

Holy lemonade, Batman!

How did a lemon tree get in my backyard?

And why didn't I notice it until now ?

Despite being completely ignored for two years, this resilient lemon tree sure knew how to bear fruit!

Yep. Grapefruit-sized lemons.

A bounty in my backyard!

Just like the Lion already had courage and the Scarecrow had a brain and the Tin Man a heart - the lemons were there all the time.

Sometimes it takes fresh eyes to see what's right under our nose.

What a gift when someone else points out what we've overlooked!

So here's a challenge I'd like to leave you with:

If you see something, say something.

We've all seen those signs in airports encouraging travelers to report suspicious acts.

But what about the good stuff we see everyday that is so often overlooked?

After a particularly grueling day, I found myself in a despairingly long line at Marshall's. Quickly bored with the mugs, notepads, readers, and gift bags meant to evoke extra final purchases, I turned my attention to cashier #5 making the day of every customer she served. Her warmth and effervescence was palpable. She actually seemed excited and thrilled about every person's purchases!

I found myself thinking, "I hope I get HER to ring me up!"

And I did.

So I took the opportunity to say, "I've watched your light shine on every person you helped before me. What a gift! You make a difference."

Her already bright light catapulted with appreciation. And all of a sudden, my grueling day felt far away.

Notice what's good around you. And say something about it.

You might just help someone discover the lemons in their backyard.

And make a friend in the process.

My Christmas Miracle

Mon, 23 Dec 2024 17:26:43 GMT

No matter what I did, the tree wouldn't light up.

It looked like a San Diego snowfall in my living room as I wrestled with my little tree.

Flocking was everywhere .

Though the second year of its existence, THIS year, frustration overwhelmed me.

To offer context, assembling my Christmas tree or anything can trigger me. My Mark never met a fix-it challenge he didn't perform masterfully.

During our years together, my job was to procure; his was to assemble. And our home always looked like a perfect winter wonderland straight out of a Hallmark movie.

As you can imagine, his death in 2021 left me bereft of holiday spirit. I left town to spend Christmas with my San Diego cousins. This great escape planted the idea to eventually move west.

In 2022, when the house we shared sold, I also sold everything in it. Except for my clothes and some basic utensils, the new owners purchased every piece of furniture, window and wall adornment, and an attic containing three (!) Christmas trees and two decades of decorations.

Fresh start, indeed.

My first Christmas as a Californian couldn't have been more Grinch-like. The holidays were hijacked by my first bout of COVID.

Bedridden, my cousin deposited care packages on my doorstep. I stayed in my pajamas through the New Year.

In 2023, eager to make up for lost time, I clicked for the biggest tree my tiny apartment could hold on Amazon.

Continuing with the fresh start theme, I selected a flocked tree; a festive look I had always admired but never owned.

Shortly after constructing it, I seriously questioned my judgment.

Flocking is no joke! Embedded in my hair, my shaggy rugs, and found in every available crevice, it seemed to multiply just like kernels of a popcorn over heat.

Still, I proudly called it my Thanksgiving tree and had a perfectly lovely holiday.

Somehow, between 2023 and 2024, gremlins invaded the Christmas tree box.

Several hours in, I STILL couldn't find the connectors that made the lights work. I fondled every branch and needle, searching for the elusive plugs, to no avail.

At one point I even considered going without the lights.

But what's a Christmas tree without lights?

They were there! I know they worked last year! But I just couldn't find the connectors to light them!

Finally, I surrendered to the inevitable.

I had to take it all apart and start over.

Not my idea of a good time.

More flocking flung, beads of perspiration forming on my brow, and a few choice expletives on the tip of my tongue, my mood grew darker.

The storm clouds were compounded by my aloneness. Complaining isn't nearly as satisfying when there's no one to hear you!

Realizing if I didn't nip this mood in the bud, it would steal my day, I talked sense to myself.

"Getting upset doesn't make matters better, Brenda. You did this last year. You can do it again."

It helped mildly.

Then I talked to God.

"Could you please help me do this?"

This Christmas miracle didn't involve a nativity, wise men, a drummer boy, or a manger.

But the Savior definitely showed up, because for no earthly reason, the plugs were suddenly in plain view and easily connected.

The moral of my story?

When you're at the end of what YOU can do for you, ask for help.

If you're fortunate to have go-to people, wonderful!

If this season meant for merriment, friends, family, presents, and joy instead underscores your pain, grief, regrets, and loneliness...I feel you. And I advocate for calling 988 if the darkness feels insurmountable. There are caring, wise professionals on the other end of the line who will shepherd you through a crisis point.

But for the rest of my story...

The deconstruction of my Christmas tree in many ways mirrors my life story.

Everything did fall apart.

So it could come back together again.

In the middle of it, my life (though outwardly successfully) felt like an epic fail, though I strived endlessly to get the lights back on in my soul.

At the end of all I could do for me, wearing myself out in the process, I cried out the most powerful prayer: "Help!"

Plugging back in to a God I had kept at arm's length for over 20 years; Who I harbored anger toward and Who I blamed for the losses and pains of my life didn't happen overnight.

It began with a tiny crack in my soul and a whispered prayer: "Help!"

This ornament is front and center on my 2024 Christmas tree.

Gifted to me by a new, dear friend, she has not only observed the renewal of my faith, but has also invested in my ongoing healing from deep betrayal, church hurt, and harmful ideas about God and spirituality.

Seeing this image makes tears well up in my eyes.

I was that little, scared lamb. Lost in the woods.

As the song says, I longed for "Someone to watch over me..."

My true Christmas miracle isn't the tree.

It is the Shepherd Who ran after me , even as I ran from Him.

This Christmas, if you feel far away from faith, hope, and love, let this be a gentle nudge to whisper your own prayer.

It's truly a wonderful life when the lights come back on.

Wishing you and yours the most wonderful Christmas ever and the happiest New Year yet.

With love,

Brenda

Choosing Beauty Over Bitterness and Making Peace with Your Past

Wed, 06 Nov 2024 18:49:43 GMT

Sometimes when you're not looking, you find exactly what you need.

The above photo is a sailboat called "Abbondanza."

When I heard the name, something leapt inside of me. Abundance is one of my favorite words! I even have a small tattoo representing the word on my left forearm.

So when the invitation came, I prayed for calm waters and sunny skies.

My friends were busy navigating the sails and they encouraged me to just soak up the rays and say hello to the sea lions perched on the buoys we passed.

Savoring the ocean breeze and the sun on my face, an unexpected wave propelled me from my seat to the other side of the boat.

And I cracked up. It was a full-on belly laugh that even surprised ME, perhaps because it had been a while.

I'm pretty good at planning fun. Whether it's a karaoke night or making an epic dinner reservation at a Michelin-starred restaurant, I've become adept at arranging happy distractions.

But a belly laugh? You can't plan for that.

It takes you by surprise, like that wave toppling me across the deck.

When I arrived home and parked my car, I noticed this in the rear view:

My heart swelled with appreciation for the pastel colors of the sunset. The idea that I can walk to the Pacific Ocean every day still stuns me.

In that moment, I thought about all of the events that brought me to this place.

Loss. Disappointment. Grief. Heartache. Doubts. Fears. Depression. Betrayal. Desperation.

If presented with a menu of life options, I wouldn't have chosen any of these.

Yet they were the very tools that brought me, not only to this place, but to my knees.

I'd come a long way by myself.

But early this year, I waved a white flag of surrender, and it profoundly changed me.

No longer striving to create my own reality or manifest my dream life (all of which can be quite effective yet utterly exhausting), I chose to "let go and let God."

Giving up? No.

Letting go? Yes.

Not relinquishing my dreams, but unclenching my grip on assumptions about how my life should unfold.

In this new posture of rest, I observed life - past, present, and future - through a different lens.

Anyone who has lived even a little bit knows (like the Rolling Stones sang), "You can't always get what you want."

But for me, the passage of time and a Divine perspective revealed, "I got what I needed."

A portion of an often quoted scripture promises "...all things work together for good..." (Romans 8:28)

I've found comfort in choosing to believe this. It makes an uncertain future far less scary.

And helped me find beauty rather than bitterness in the rear view.

To clarify, I don't love what happened.

But I do love who I am becoming in the process.

Perhaps this is a true pursuit of happiness.

And for me, a source of deep gratitude this Thanksgiving season.

Does Your Life Still "Fit" You?

Sat, 07 Sep 2024 03:11:55 GMT

Is your life like a pair of stilettos one size too small?

Oh, they were gorgeous. They went perfectly with that new outfit. Maybe they were even on sale! So seductive was the allure, you talked yourself out of the potential discomfort with a "No pain, no gain" mantra.

What fun to bring them home!

But then you walked a mile in those shoes. And it hurt like hell.

Life can be like that, can't it?

Something can look really good and check off so many boxes. It seems like the logical next step, and maybe it even works for a while, but at some point you realize you're miserable.

You grew.

Actually, you outgrew what used to work for you.

Look, we all face those shocking life changes that rip the rug out from under us and we have to adapt, quickly. Often these jolts catapult us to new life choices and can be alternately thrilling and awful.

But then there are the more subtle nudges when, like those pinching shoes, your internal compass whispers, "This no longer works for you."

We often resist. We amp up our gratitude practice, trying to talk ourselves into staying the same.

Sometimes we even beat ourselves up!

Instead of being surprised or even disappointed in yourself for no longer being satisfied with "what is" , I think you should applaud yourself!

Growth isn't inevitable after a certain age. You can easily choose to check out and coast and settle into a never-changing routine.

(No judgement, I promise!)

But the people I've met who remain curious, interested in new things, who are even willing to change their playlist, point of view, or order something wildly out of character on the menu seem to have discovered more than music or food.

They've found the fountain of youth.

Childlike wonder doesn't discriminate. It's available to all ages!

So if you're feeling the blahs (and we all do, sometimes), and sensing the nudge for something new, try these ideas on for size:

1.Say yes to something that would have been an automatic no.

Embrace that pickleball invite. Accept the symphony ticket. Instead of hopping in the car, take a walk and enjoy the breeze and butterflies.

This week I had to mail a package and while I could have handled it in a five minute drive, I decided to stroll 20 minutes to the post office. Along the way I looked in storefront windows, pet dogs, cooed over babies, and logged 6,000 steps.

It's been scientifically proven that if you just do one simple thing differently - like brush your teeth with a different hand - it can lead to better focus, memory, and creativity. Using your non-dominant hand forces your brain to use different neural pathways, which could lead to sharper cognitive function.

This doesn't mean you'll end up loving the symphony. But switching things up is good for you!

2. Give yourself permission to imagine your life differently.

Start with what's irking you and don't ignore it. Maybe your dream house of decades lately annoys you with its maintenance and unused rooms. Could it be that you're ready to downsize?

Or if most nights you struggle with loneliness might you consider, gulp, getting a roommate?

For years I dreamed of going "all in" and starting my own business. When good friends would encourage me to take the leap, I'd respond with a list of reasons why it wouldn't work.

My life literally had to fall apart and FORCE me to do what I really wanted to do! And it's been the most invigorating, creative, vibrant period of my professional life.

Just like Harry said to Sally at the end of the famous 1989 movie, "When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible..."

And that goes for every area of your life, not just romance.

3. Tune in instead of out when ideas evoke an extreme response.

That rage or exasperation; protests and arguments? In my own life, reflection often revealed that what was really having a hissy fit was my EGO.

The famous definition - EGO = " E dges G od O ut" is a good indicator of how your wisdom is being sourced.

"But the wisdom that is from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, willing to yield, full of mercy and good fruits, without partiality and without hypocrisy." (James 3:17, NKJV)

Not willing to yield? Or consider the opposing point of view? Raging against the advice of good people who love you?

Listen to that check engine light and have a good heart to heart with yourself.

Because maybe the very thing you're fighting is actually what can restore you to joy if you hit the mat and surrender.

We're all surrendering to something, whether it is faith or fear.

"Faith and fear both demand you believe in something you cannot see. You choose!" - Bob Proctor

This past month, I held a book signing at Werner Books & Coffee in Erie, PA. My table featured all three of my books (pinch me!)

The next day I took the stage and spoke to a room filled with municipal clerks who wanted to learn how to run from burnout and achieve breakthroughs in their lives.

I hopped on a plane and coached corporate leaders about organizational culture and communications strategies.

Along the way, I helped lift some burdens and brighten spirits.

At one point I realized, "I'm living my dream."

So how did it happen?

Through a series of heartbreaks I never would have chosen. But I will offer this one piece of advice:

Letting go precedes letting in.

Yes, it's scary to let go of what we know to make space for something new! But worse would be never trying and living with the regret.

Like the pain of walking in shoes that just don't fit you anymore.

Four Ways Workplaces Can Beat the Sunday Scaries

Fri, 05 Jul 2024 20:09:43 GMT

How does the pit of your stomach feel on a Sunday night?

If a good word to describe how you’re feeling is “dread” it’s a signal.

Either you’re in the wrong position or your workplace culture needs a tune-up.

Often, well-meaning managers move great employees to new positions because they assume if they’re great at one job, they’ll succeed at anything.

It’s hard to be good at anything when you’re miserable doing it.

Lisa had been an "Employee of the Month" in her previous role interacting with the public. She was “promoted” to a more managerial position with a hefty increase in paperwork...and wilted.

Soon, in leadership meetings we heard rumblings that “Lisa’s just not working out…”

This wasn’t Lisa’s fault!

Fortunately, without being made to feel a failure, she was moved back to where she fit best and was once again receiving rave reviews.

If you are the Lisa in this story, I hope you feel you can have candid conversations with your supervisor.

Sure, we all have to do tasks that don’t thrill us, but if we can work in a role that aligns with our strongest skills, we’ve got a better chance of minimizing the Sunday scaries.

But what about culture?

It has been said that workplace wellness is revealed by how employees feel about going to work.

"Rah-rah” activities or even financial incentives are just band-aid solutions to deeper problems.

Employees want to feel truly seen and heard.

In all of the organizations I’ve worked with, four basic needs should be met to create a healthy workplace culture: CARE.

C ommunication

Dismantling silos and “whisper down the lane” keeps everyone aligned with priorities.

All Hands On Deck meetings are a great, monthly tool to ensure everyone is getting the same information
Two-way communication is critical, because listening is just as important as speaking. Do you feel comfortable approaching your supervisor without fear?
When was the last time an anonymous employee survey garnered candid feedback? And was the loop closed with action items to make the workplace better?

A ppreciation

When you notice what’s good, it encourages more of the same.

People thrive in an environment where they feel valued.
When expressing appreciation, be specific and name names!
Seek out opportunities to acknowledge jobs well done and good attitudes.

Appreciation is the fuel of a healthy workplace culture.

R espect

At the heart of respect is treating people the way you’d want to be treated. So how does respect show up in the workplace?

Trusting that someone can bring their unique talents to a situation and get the job done without micromanaging
Using a tone that is non-judgmental or condescending when coaching or instructing
Embracing diverse ideas and welcoming feedback

Stephen Covey said it best: “Always treat your employees exactly as you would like them to treat your best customers.”

E xpectations

If goals aren’t clearly defined, you never have the satisfaction of knowing you hit the mark.

Good employees want clarity about expectations and won’t mind being held accountable to them
Do you know what good looks like? How about great?
Are core values alive and well in your organization and do they trigger coaching and praise?

What’s that?

You don’t have core values? (Or maybe you do, but they’re so irrelevant they don’t apply to daily work?

Here's what's great about core values: If consistently applied, they weed out bad employees.

Which makes life happier for the good ones.

Vici Communications LLC has a proven Culture Program that starts with the basics to improve morale and make a happier workplace.

We first institute and help the organization build an agenda for a monthly All Hands On Deck (AHOD) meeting, infused with good information as well as appreciation.

Next, we deploy an anonymous survey that includes four basic questions:

What should we keep doing?
What should we stop doing?
What should we consider doing?
If you were writing our Core Values, what words would you use?

The answers are sometimes harsh, often creative, always insightful, and help to craft a foundation that the employees themselves built.

We conduct a leadership team summit to develop action items, then report back to the entire organization the results and takeaways.

The core values THEY wrote become house rules that help turn the ship.

No, it doesn’t happen overnight, but if you don’t start, it’ll never happen.

If you’ve got the Sunday scaries and the temperature at your workplace borders on toxic, schedule a visit to discuss how Vici Communications LLC can effect change.

After all, you spend one-third of your life at work.

Let's make it better!

When the Devil Showed Up in Zumba Class

Wed, 12 Jun 2024 02:58:01 GMT

The music blasted, the disco lights flashed, and I channeled my inner Shakira.

This was no nightclub. It was Zumba class.

My favorite instructor, Antonio playfully yelled, "Shake it! Don't break it!"

So I shook it. And shimmied. Wearing a grin so wide it made my face hurt, in a matter of minutes I'd shed computer malaise and tapped into my alter ego.

"Walk sexy now!"

At your command, Antonio!

I catwalked in time to the music, embracing the swagger that accompanies feeling free, beautiful, strong, and...

...oh NO.

Who was that older woman in the mirror?

Noticeably larger and a step behind everyone else in the class, to my dismay, it was me.

In a flash, my joyous escape turned dark.

Instead of dancing, I wanted to slink out the door.

My inner critic taunted, "Who are you kidding, Brenda? Look at these other gorgeous women in the class! You're an embarrassment!"

Is your inner critic as mean as mine?

The sucker punch of comparison rattled me. Tears stung my eyes.

We all take these hits.

But here's what I've learned: After a hit, there's a response window.

You can either yield to the taunts and crumble, setting momentum in motion to steal the rest of your day.

Or you can resist the darkness and forcibly choose the light.

I resumed dancing like no one was watching.

I jumped higher, dug deeper, and broke a new calories burned record (according to my iWatch.)

Because I will not be bullied out of joy.

And I hope you won't either.

The Three "L's" to Level Up Your Communication

Thu, 02 May 2024 16:13:40 GMT

People make three key mistakes when they communicate.

Aside from signing books to benefit The Children's Miracle Network, my book launch party featured a ten-minute talk: Are You Making the Three Top Communication Mistakes?

Inquiring minds wanted to know!

To the relief of those in attendance, I shared not just the problems, but also the solutions.

For those of you who couldn't be at the party, here's a recap with the solutions I call the "Three L's."

PROBLEM #1: We talk too much. And write too much.

THE "L" SOLUTION: Less is more.

Getting to less means planning in advance. Be clear about what you want to say and when you've said it, stop talking. The more you say or write, the less people hear.

PROBLEM #2: We think communication is just about words.

THE "L" SOLUTION: Look before you leap!

Read the room and sense if the timing is good. Did they just get in an argument with someone? Have they missed a meal (or two)? A simple "Is this a good time?" can help avoid bad timing. Only 7% of communication is about the words you speak. Along with timing, your tone of voice and body language convey your unspoken message. These non-verbal factors also benefit from preparation, because the more prepared you are the less scared you are. Which leads to problem #3...

PROBLEM #3: We vote with fear over love.

THE "L" SOLUTION: Love more than you fear.

Oh, fear will always be a factor. But when you love your audience (even if it is just one person), they will FEEL it. You can say hard things with love, and they will be received. My speaking improved tenfold when I stopped worrying about what people thought of me and focused more on loving them through my words and actions.

And don't forget yourself in this equation! Be patient, kind, non-judgmental, and full of hope toward yourself so you can give it to others.

Every person can improve their ability to communicate! Apply the three "L's" and observe how they level up your ability to be heard.

And if you want 27 more easy-to-apply tips that will make your life better, grab your copy of How to Be Heard Without Screaming!

Hope Springs Eternal

Thu, 14 Mar 2024 03:24:11 GMT

This extra sunlight is good for my soul.

Like a sunflower basking in the golden rays, I find myself going outside just to smile and squint and feel the warmth on my face.

My neuroscientist crush, Dr. Andrew Huberman , taught me that getting 5 - 10 minutes of sun exposure in the first 30 to 60 minutes after waking has been proven to increase alertness, boost mood, lower stress, and improve sleep quality.

(And if there's too little sun where you are, those ring lights that you use for Zoom meetings can suffice!)

But this extra daylight after the workday? It's like a director yelled, "Strike the set! Get ready for the plot twist!"

A whole new scene feels poised to unfold and if you're like me, you're ready for it.

It's time to go buy some pansies. Clean out the cobwebs. Wiggle your toes in the grass.

And HOPE.

The darkest times in my life? When I abandoned hope.

And we all have those moments.

We human beings can get grumpy and impatient waiting for the seeds we've planted to finally pop through the dirt.

Like pregnant moms-to-be who lament, "Will this baby EVER come?"

Or children in the back seat whining, "Are we THERE yet?"

C'mon, life! Can you give me a little something? A sign for good?

Hope deferred makes the heart sick... but when the answer comes it is a tree of life. (Proverbs 13:12)

And then you see a butterfly. Or a baby bursts into giggles when you walk by their stroller at the farmers market. A golden retriever gazes up at you, adoringly.

Your favorite ice cream is slashed from $7.99 a pint to $3.99 if you buy four. (Which I did.)

These little, hopeful happenings remind you that it's good to be alive.

Managing the levels in our hope tank is important. That's why I buy lottery tickets! Aside from fully expecting to win one of these days, just having a ticket says to the universe, "I believe something outrageously wonderful could be right around the corner!"

It's also why I deleted all of the dating apps. All that swiping was exhausting; even disheartening. I had to break up with Bumble, and the bitterness that endless (and fruitless) searching can produce.

Instead, I think I'm going to take up pickleball. And if I don't like it, I'll pivot to something that does inspire me.

The point?

It's a new season. A season of growth, life, sunshine, flowers, and possibility.

A season of HOPE.

Think of something you can do to fill up (or stop depleting) your hope tank. And do it!

I'm rooting for you.

Be Your Valentine

Tue, 30 Jan 2024 03:22:10 GMT

I am in love!

It hit me like a ton of bricks this weekend.

Remember what it felt like when you first fell in love? Every song on the radio was YOUR song. The littlest thing put a wide smile on your face. You bounced a little as you walked and the small stuff? No sweat!

I love a love story. This whole Taylor Swift/Travis Kelce matchup has me rooting for a live proposal at the SuperBowl. I wept through The Golden Bachelor (and yes, I applied for the next season.) Give me a sappy Hallmark movie, and I puddle.

But these years since Mark's transition have been an exercise in learning to be alone with myself.

Truth be told, I kicked and screamed and worked every angle to fast forward through this chapter. Bumble, Hinge, J-Date, The League, and even Tinder can attest to my razor sharp focus on getting to what I thought would be the good part; my "happily ever after."

Nope. Met some nice people. Some creeps. And then...crickets.

Sigh.

Perhaps I waved a spiritual white flag without realizing it.

It wasn't like I decided to surrender. I just got busy doing stuff that made me happy.

Going to the gym everyday. Wildly dancing with new friends. Being alcohol-free and still slaying on karaoke night. Petting puppy dogs and talking to random babies. Interviewing beautiful souls for my podcast . Savoring a sauna and clean sheets on the bed.

Instead of waiting for someone to ask me, I took myself on dates.

Like this weekend!

I chose the scenic route on my way home from a jaunt to LA to see Chaka Khan in concert (and yes, I belted "I'm Every Woman" as if I were the performer).

Around a bend, this greeted me:

A
As if the Divine pulled a fast one and announced, "Ta da!" this stunning scene took me by surprise.

Even more surprising, I burst into tears.

(Yes, I pulled over.)

These were a new kind of tears.

Tears of gratitude.

Truly, I felt awestruck by this beautiful playground called earth. And I get to cart myself around and have adventures!

Reflecting on the weekend, I recalled the spring in my step as I wandered around Manhattan Beach. Singing at the bar on the Sunset Strip while enjoying a ginger mocktail. Connecting with Uber drivers and bartenders and the random lucky person that got to sit next to me (cause you KNOW they were going to get a blast of joy.)

As I left one ultra-chic venue, the gorgeous model-like woman at the reception area said to me, "You are a queen."

I stopped in my tracks.

Me?

She looked like Margot Robbie!

"You walked in here by yourself and owned it. You are #goals."

A few months ago, I would have perhaps forced myself to go out and fought the voices in my head that said, "loser" for being alone.

But now?

I am a queen.

Because I am in love.

With my life.

PS. Should Andrew Huberman read this post and find himself captivated by my queenness, I would not be opposed to including him in my adventures.

Hey! Even queens are human.

Saying "Yes" More in 2024

Fri, 05 Jan 2024 05:25:48 GMT

It's a time for resolutions, not regrets.

But when I think about regrets, they usually involve what I didn't do.

Risks I didn't take. The times I voted with fear and shrank back from opportunity.

Or when I failed to speak up.

My new book, How to be Heard (without Screaming) is now off to the publisher! The subtitle: Find your voice and use it skillfully in 30 days.

As I organized 35+ years of experience as a professional communicator, it felt important that the last chapter be a call to lean in when opportunities (speaking or otherwise) present themselves.

“Shift from thinking "I'm not ready to do that" to thinking "I want to do that - and I'll learn by doing it.

If you're offered a seat on a rocket ship, don't ask what seat!” – Sheryl Sandburg

I remember when my employer sent me to crisis communication school, and I sat in a room surrounded by public relations pros and information officers whose jobs were far bigger than my own.

Over the course of six hours, we learned some of the techniques described in the book, like mock press conferences, crafting press releases, and wordsmithing sound bites. It was nirvana for a word-nerd like me!

At the very end, they asked for one volunteer to use all the skills taught in a role-playing TV interview.

I really wanted to raise my hand.

To my surprise, half of the class volunteered me! (What an honor.)

The other half of the class wanted Eric, a very polished PR pro who worked for a public utility, to represent the class.

So we voted.

Intimidated and insecure, I didn’t vote for myself.

And I lost by one vote.

Mind you, it was a small blip in my career as a communicator, but I’ll never forget the disappointment of not being brave enough to try.

Start saying yes to opportunities to speak and along the way, you’ll find your voice.

Don’t talk yourself out of speaking.

Yes, someone else might say it differently…but no one can say it like you. No one else has your stories! Or your personality; your unique frame of reference, tone of voice, or style.

You’ve got something to say and when you lean into the opportunity, doors previously closed to you will open. You’ll unleash power that, like the lion’s courage, was there all along. When you obey that prompting, it will feel so good!

And most of all when you have a chance to vote for yourself, do it!

source.

Look at Me! I Got a Tree!

Tue, 21 Nov 2023 04:09:03 GMT

You might think, "Of course, Brenda. Most people celebrating Christmas get a tree!"

And you would be correct.

But for me, there was no tree in 2021. Or 2022.

Now 2020? THAT was a completely different story. Santa himself would have loved the three fully decorated trees that adorned the house Mark and I shared. He would strategically position Rudolph, Clarisse, The Abominable Snowman, Hermie ("I want to be a dentist"), and Yukon Cornelius in our living room. He'd graciously suffer through endless Hallmark Channel Christmas movies, and our kitchen smelled like butter and cinnamon for at least a month.

When he transitioned...

His absence was a Grinch that stole any idea of Christmas, let alone a tree.

I sold the house and everything in it. Three trees and a lifetime of ornaments along with Rudolph's entire brigade. Gone. Just like Mark.

In 2021 I traveled and visited my cousin and her family for the holiday. I fell in love with San Diego (and her family) and the seed of a dream to live there one day was born.

In 2022, the dream was realized. I moved into my new little apartment on December 17th and promptly got COVID, spending the Christmas and New Year holidays in bed.

And this "dream" has been fraught with a few nightmares; most recently a car accident and some nodes rendered "suspicious" but, thankfully, benign.

The rush of relief was followed by a renewed appreciation to be alive.

And, out of nowhere...a desire to have a Christmas tree.

In the history of me, this is significant.

When my dad died in 1974, I was 10 years old and we didn't celebrate Christmas that year. No tree.

I actually think we missed the next year, too. What was Christmas without Daddy?

Then TONY (he deserves all caps) started dating my sister. Just like Santa, he brought Christmas back to our home. A huge live tree decorated with little Italian nougat boxes combined with the theatrics of shaking boxes to guess what they contained. The joy was BACK.

A tree symbolizes joy. Joy in living; joy in loving; joy in simply being. It's hopeful!

Some might look pityingly at my little postage stamp of an apartment. There's not an ornament to be found on my tree. I had to (for the first time ever) assemble the parts by myself and white specks of flocking covered my floor. Still, when the lights clicked together, they worked!

You might have thought I won the lottery. I talked to myself (which is not uncommon when you live alone), "Brenda! You DID it! You GO, girl!"

So look at me! I have a tree!

Friends have teased me that it's a bit SOON to have the tree up.

But one thoughtfully suggested I should coin it my "Thanksgiving Tree."

And so it is, my Thanksgiving Tree. A tree of life, symbolizing a page turned.

May your hearts be filled with gratitude during this special season. I'm wishing all good things for you and yours!

Lessons in Vulnerability

Mon, 06 Nov 2023 19:59:50 GMT

"What is the meaning of all this?" I cried out, for the first time in a while wondering if Anyone was listening.

Finding my footing again after a serious car crash, I hoped to settle into relief and recovery.

Only to receive this call: "The CAT scans from the accident show some nodes on your thyroid we need to test."

My initial reaction?

"It's probably nothing. Lots of people have nodes on their thyroid and it's usually nothing. And since I've had my share of some things, this MUST be nothing."

Funny how our minds negotiate the circumstances served to us. But this coping mechanism is no less self-medicating than a pill or cocktail.

Look, none of us LIKES pain. We'd avoid it at all costs and come up with a host of ways to anesthetize ourselves.

What's problematic with the illogic of, "Surely one more bad thing can't happen..." is that you're gutted when it DOES.

Which is what happened when the ultrasound results came back "SUSPICIOUS."

My fight/flight instincts kicked in and a thorough Google search painted a picture that stoked my fears.

Note: There is a brand of toxic positivity I'm dislodging from that doesn't deal honestly with reality. But sometimes to break free of old beliefs we go WAY the other direction. And neither extreme really serves the human soul. At least, not mine.

One of my default coping mechanisms in this state of fight or flight has been to scan for the meaning behind everything. "What am I supposed to learn?" "Where is the silver lining?" "What good will come from this?"

Maybe a huge settlement from the accident! (Nope.)

I'd meet a handsome chiropractor! (Nope again.)

Um...that's about all I could come up with in this state of panic.

That's not to say these are bad questions! It's just when they are fueled by fear and desperation, they rarely evoke answers.

So I hit the mat. And decided, "Whatever will be, will be."

I took my own advice and remembered that worrying wouldn't help one thing.

And I waited the eternal ten days until the biopsy was scheduled, all the while, using every tool in my toolbox to keep fear at bay.

On Tuesday, the day before biopsy day, I woke up to a gripping cloud of unshakeable doom.

What was wrong with me?

I admitted aloud, "I'm afraid."

One might think the source of fear was obvious, but when I continued crying out it - shockingly - wasn't the "c" word that brought me to my knees.

The source of my despair? I was going to my appointment alone .

See, I had planned to Uber to the appointment, not wanting to disrupt anyone's schedule.

It never occurred to me to ask for help.

When it occurred to me that it never occurred to me to ask for help, I considered doing so.

And was gripped with an even greater sense of panic.

What was going ON with me?

Then, better than a windfall settlement or a handsome chiropractor, my honesty delivered the true meaning of this experience.

I realized that my entire life, I diligently worked not to be a burden to anyone. At ten years old, when my father died suddenly, I swallowed all the feelings to not upset my mom. After all, she'd just lost her anchor and had to raise two girls on her own.

I observed her fight to build a life she never thought she'd have to on her own, and while admiring her resilience, it taught me never to expect anyone to provide for me.

To become fiercely independent.

To fight for the tab and be the first to whip out my credit card.

And to never, ever ask for help.

The Universe used the accident and subsequent suspicious nodes to awaken me to my solitary confinement.

A confinement of my own making.

A woman so comfortable giving and giving and giving and completely unused to receiving.

Because receiving takes vulnerability.

Yep, I hit the mat again, because once this realization washed over me I knew I had been extended an invitation to a new way of life.

Of give...AND take.

Of letting love IN, however it may come.

And, gulp...asking.

Like a whisper, I thought of my new friend, Taryn, who I met at the farmers market because I wore my Philadelphia Eagles jersey and she was a Philly girl.

What if...?

But she works! And she's a mom! And it's the middle of the week!

Still, knowing it was important for me to heed the whisper, I texted Taryn.

Her response?

"Don't. Ever. Think. Twice. I'll be there at 8 AM."

I burst into tears again; healing tears that washed over me and laid a foundation for a new chapter. A chapter where I can be vulnerable enough to ask.

Sheesh! How beautiful people are when they swoop in to help! And how happy it makes them to do so!

And how much deeper can friendship go when it is both give...and take.

Could it be that the future of my dreams had been kept at bay because I was just too self-sufficient to receive it?

Ah, sweet surrender.

And then, far sooner than I had expected, the test results:

BENIGN.

But the true test had nothing to do with my thyroid.

And I passed.

The Gift of Clarity

Sun, 01 Oct 2023 22:12:37 GMT

When we think of treasures in life, certainly family, friends, and health top the list. But lately? Clarity is queen.

One of the things I always teach is, "When you don't know what to say, buy yourself time. When you don't know what to do, do nothing."

Sometimes, that's easier said than done.

After Mark's transition, the prevailing wisdom was, "Don't make major decisions for at least a year." In retrospect, that was excellent advice. My initial instinct? Quickly sell the house and move to a downtown Sarasota apartment. Within days of his death, I put in applications and searched for a new place.

My urgency? A desperate attempt to feel better, soon.

Then my neighbors swooped in. One cut my grass. Another tended to the pool. Food showed up at the door. Hugs and kindness washed over me. How glad I was that I didn't make a knee jerk decision to uproot myself from such potent love.

In this case, the passage of time brought clarity as well as reinforcements! Miraculously, friends who I hadn't seen in many years upended their lives to stay with me. In the warmth of their loving presence, clarity came. Yes, I should move.

Not just providing listening ears, they dug in and readied my house for the market! (Talk about friendship!)

Interesting note: Had I not waited for the clarity of time, my home would not have practically doubled in value. I sold at precisely the perfect time; another display of the grace of God and the beauty of alignment with Divine timing.

Actually, that's a great definition of clarity.

Whether you attribute it to God, or the Universe, or simply being at peace - alignment with your inner being is true clarity.

And true clarity is necessary to move forward with joy; with faith; with almost supernatural energy.

My most recent post outlined the numerous changes that have taken place since I made the decision to move. I marvel to read them all!

However, the clarity that brought me out here and started Vici Communications LLC; the path that led me to a perfect La Jolla apartment and attracted a host of wonderful new friends, even inspiring a new, healthier lifestyle could only take me so far.

I found myself overwhelmed by the myriad of opportunities to grow my business and reduced by a measuring stick of my own making that scolded, "You should have accomplished more by now."

In the incessant swiping culture of online dating, I found my psyche disheartened.

Yes, so much had been accomplished! But was I happy?

I grappled with this question because too many nights I still found myself in tears. I give myself a pass on tears because I know they're important and, I'm still grieving.

But I knew there was something more. I just couldn't get clear about it.

Then at 8:09 PM on Tuesday night, September 26th, on the way home from dinner with friends, my life changed once again in an instant.

With no time to react or avoid it, a car driving at full speed crossed the median, coming straight for me.

As I braced for the crash, I said to myself, "I guess this is how I die..."

After impact, I marveled that I was, indeed, alive. I can still smell the acidic powder of the airbags that saved my life. I recall saying, "Help me...help me..." unsure if the car would explode into flames at any moment. An angel of a man helped me out of the totaled vehicle and did not let go of my hands until the EMTs arrived. He reminded me to breathe and locked eyes until I was transported by ambulance to the emergency room.

Numbly, I answered questions. Unbeknownst to me, my Apple iPhone sent my emergency contacts a crash alert. My poor sister frantically tried to reach me; I was too shaken to speak, other than to say I was alive.

And so I am. Miraculously alive.

Aside from deeply purple bruises, aching and a skittish mental state, I consider myself fortunate.

The coming weeks and months will involve therapy - both physical and mental. I'm not making light of this latest trauma and will devote myself to becoming whole.

But, I've gotta say - boy, do I have clarity .

This close encounter with death crashed more than my car. It smashed the exhausting treadmill of upward mobility I had created. It demolished the dangling carrot of a hoped for happily ever after. This accident destroyed the last vestiges of bullshit that I'd built over the course of a lifetime.

Renewed clarity about what truly matters in life is the gift I now savor.

Love.

Giving love. Receiving love.

That's pretty much the extent of my "to do" list now.

I consider every day after September 26th bonus time. And I'm not going to waste it by worrying one more minute about what I think I need to be or do.

As the Carole King song says so well, Only Love is Real .

Everything else? Illusion.

Breathe deeply this beautiful, extravagant display of love called LIFE.

While we have breath, let us love and be loved.

Nothing else matters, my friends.

And if you have taken the time to read this, thank you.

Thank you.

Thank you for letting me share my life with you.

May you be inspired to love more and more and more. To love yourself. To love others.

And to be clear about what is truly important...and discard the rest like a garment that no longer fits.

PS: Heartfelt thanks to my sister and brother-in-law, Shirlee and Tony DiBacco and to my cousin and her husband, Debbie and Craig Stevenson, for being the best emergency contacts I could have. I am also deeply moved by the expressions of love and kindness from friends and family members both near and far who have helped me withstand the initial impacts of the crash and who are walking with me back to wholeness.

It's Never Too Late to Be Who You Always Wanted to Be

Wed, 13 Sep 2023 20:00:55 GMT

This time last year I had a completely different life.

I lived in Sarasota, Florida with my little Sheltie, Shasta. Beloved friends were temporary roommates, midwifing my healing from a series of great losses. My days (and many nights) were spent glued to the computer for my full-time job as VP of Marketing for a medical device company.

"They" always say not to make big decisions in the first year after the death of a partner, so I waited.

The passage of time only underscored my need for a new environment. After spending a month test driving San Diego (and falling in love with it), my heart swelled with hope for a fresh start.

Little did I know that my desire to move would trigger a personal and professional tsunami.

I discovered that I couldn't keep my position and live in California. My body literally shook. I sobbed almost as profoundly as when I learned of Mark's death. Making a leap from employee to entrepreneur seemed outrageous; even irresponsible!

Yet those who knew me best were well aware that my true dream was to write and speak full-time.

My dream knocked at the door of my fears, as dreams often do.

Realizing that life was happening for me and not to me dislodged me from disappointment. Maybe, just maybe, not keeping my job was a good thing.

Maybe I should give myself permission to go all in on ME.

Vici Communications LLC was born, deriving its name from a favorite spot in Little Italy (San Diego) that translates to "I conquered" in Latin.

To this day, it gives me goosebumps to say, "My life's purpose is no longer a side hustle."

There are, of course, moments of "What the @#$% have I done ?" But they are far outnumbered by the times I feel such fulfillment doing what I was born to do.

This one change had a domino effect.

Yes, I now live in La Jolla. But my geography wasn't the only thing that had to change.

Because wherever you go, you take yourself with you. - Neil Gaiman

In a blog post for another day, a profound therapy session shifted my idea of who I was; my very identity. And just like the butterfly shakes off the chrysalis, I needed to dislodge from grooves in my soul that no longer served me.

Who was I, really?

Well, I'm still surprising myself with the discoveries. Turns out I don't need to stay at the Ritz or fly first-class to be truly happy. (Duh!)

One of the questions I continue to ask myself is, "What does fun look like now?"

Aside from the aforementioned indulgences, my idea of fun had to change because I no longer had the Mark and Brenda version of fun (riding on the back of a Harley; sitting on the couch watching American Idol; doing anything holding hands...)

*Sigh*

So I took a salsa dancing class. Sought out pinball arcades. Visited sound bath healings and took long walks, breathing in the Pacific air. To make friends, I started a purely recreational Instagram page @Eat_Drink_LaJolla . And a podcast, The Alchemy of Pain , to help others going through a dark time. Oh, and published a children's audiobook, Annabelle the Octopus . The print version will be out in 2024, with my sister as the illustrator. Another dream come true!

True confession: I never thought exercise was fun and considered myself completely uncoordinated. Now, I have made an intentional decision to identify as HEALTHY. (And healthy is fun.)

Unlike a year ago, I now wake up at 6:30 a.m. and head to my strength training gym. Next, it's off to a minimum of 20 minutes in the sauna. Note: Did you know that 20 minutes in a sauna four times a week significantly reduces your risk of cardiovascular mortality AND Alzheimers (in some studies by over 60%?)

What else is new? My backyard garden. I take pleasure in pruning, fertilizing, and watering each morning. When you live alone, talking to yourself isn't uncommon (but talking to my plants and flowers is far nicer.)

If you really haven't talked to me in the last year...you really don't know me. Because I am a completely new version of Brenda (and I'm still getting to know her.)

So what's the point of this missile?

It's never too late to have a different life.

If you are willing to untangle from your pre-existing identity; one that was likely formed to fortress you from pain or (in my case) distract me from depth...

...you can create a new life.

I'm living proof.

Why a Podcast on Pain?

Fri, 04 Aug 2023 00:04:42 GMT

When your entire career (and life) has been focused on joy, this new venture seems counterintuitive.

Many of you know that between 2021-2023, I faced a series of soul-crushing losses.

First, after a lingering and awful illness, my mother died. Then my wonderful life partner, Mark, was gone in an instant with no warning. A series of further pains ensued, including a hurricane, a job change, the death of my beloved 17-year-old Sheltie, my own near-death experience, and in May 2023, my ex-husband suddenly died.

It felt like living a bad dream. I was the star of a melodrama; my life the lyrics to a sad country western song. Yet with each sucker punch, I'd quickly and deliberately pull myself up like Rocky vs. Apollo Creed. Instead of succumbing to sadness, a fierce resilience rose up.

You might think (and many did) that my response was admirable. And on the surface, it appeared to be downright remarkable. I f

In retrospect, so desperate to find meaning in the madness, I wanted to be the poster child for how to handle grief. As if grief was a competition to be won!

I remember thinking, "I've GOT this! I'll probably even write a book..."

...and then, SPLAT. Over and over again.

Until I came to the end of myself. And found the true me.

For those in a dark place, I have a new appreciation for you. And I understand that you might even wonder if you want to go on.

That's a tender space.

Well-meaning friends and family desperately want to make things better for you. They grasp for words of encouragement and usually come up empty.

Because your battle is between you...and you.

But there is great power in surrounding yourself with loving people. And I've found, there is power in the telling of stories that offer hope to keep going.

This series, The Alchemy of Pain, is not intended to build altars to dark times. It's to shine a light on the souls who kept going THROUGH their valley of the shadow of death.

The valley is different for everyone.

Surviving the loss of a loved one.

Living as a military spouse with a partner deployed in combat.

Waking each day to chronic pain.

Or...fill in the blank.

The interviews will inspire you. Because "If they can do it, so can I."

Each person's pain is valid. It deserves to be seen and heard. The feelings MUST be felt (as I eventually learned.)

But on the other side, what happens?

Transformation.

Changed forever...and for good.

These are not the stories we would have ever asked to tell.

But they were what we were given. And what we did with the pain? These stories must be told.

Share The Alchemy of Pain with anyone you know who could use a little light at the end of their tunnel.

And if you know someone whose story needs to be told, e-mail me at brenda@brendaviola.com .

What's Heart Got to Do With It?

Wed, 28 Jun 2023 23:31:35 GMT

What's heart got to do with it?

Turns out, pretty much EVERYTHING.

And yes, the title of this blog is a nod to Tina Turner's "What's love got to do with it?" anthem. What a powerful human; a force of nature. And wow, didn't she put heart and soul into every performance?.

Few would say it was the perfection of her voice that inspired millions.

What I remember most is her attitude . That raspy, textured delivery coupled with her wild and free stage magnetism made Tina Turner a legend.

There will never be another like her.

Can you imagine if all the other vocal performers out there compared themselves to her...or Aretha...or Barbra...and said, "Oh, I'll never be as good as them. Why even try?"

We wouldn't have Beyonce...or Ariana...or...well, you get it.

Comparison truly is the thief of joy. It gets in your head and keeps you from putting yourself out there. And as individual as a fingerprint, so is YOUR unique perspective; your particular way of seeing a thing and saying it.

As a professional speaker and a coach to speakers, I often talk with to people who say, "Oh, I'm just not good with words."

No problem! Words can be practiced.

But what about heart?

If you have the heart for a message, you've got the key to unlock powerful impact.

My favorite quote of all time says it well: "People don't care how much you know until they know how much you care." - Theodore Roosevelt

So do you care about your message? Do you care about your audience? Do you care about making an impact?

If so, you'll care less about your own insecurities and quit the comparisons. You'll forge ahead, led by your heart and your audience will feel it.

We either operate fueled by fear or love. Love is the foundation for heart-based action. And choosing love, which is one of Vici's Core Values, never fails.

Which brings me to the purpose of my musings on heart.

Yes, I am honored to deliver keynotes and workshops around the country. But for the first time in my career, I'm using my own platform to host an online message - because my heart urged me to.

When you learn something valuable and you feel passionately about it and you are CONVINCED that it will make peoples' lives better, it's an irresistible must. My "must" is the message, "Settle Your Worth to Launch a Better Life."

From years of disappointments borne from looking to others to validate me; from all of the toxic and "less than" relationships I aligned with because I didn't know my own value; each painful experience found its purpose in the message that emerged.

A message I was born to deliver.

If you like practical, actionable information, the webinar will walk you through the seven keys to settling your own self worth. If you've struggled with imposter syndrome or felt defeated by your internal critic? This one-hour can improve your life.

Please join me on July 20th - click either Noon EST (9 AM PST) or 8 PM EST (5 PM PST) to register.

I promise. Your heart will be encouraged.

One Change Can Make Your Next Conference SO Much Better

Tue, 16 May 2023 17:41:49 GMT

What if ONE move could dramatically improve your next conference?

You signed up for an amazing event. You took time away from the office and made travel arrangements to be in person or set aside webinar time because:

The speaker lineup and subject matter thrills you.

You'll network with valuable connections and enjoy quality time with respected colleagues.

You're going to learn SO much!

Then you feel the letdown.

Somehow, in the planning of an amazing series of sessions, no one thought to engage a pro to emcee or moderate the event.

Why do so many organizations lean on their professional staff to handle these duties when it's not even in their wheelhouse?

And experts brought in to present material on their field of study shouldn't be expected to focus on anything other than conveying their brilliance.

Further, they should never have to introduce themselves. And they should be introduced with the professionalism worthy of their stature.

I say, "Let people serve in their respective sweet spots."

Bring in a professional who will eliminate the pressure to:

Engage the audience
Keep the program moving forward and on schedule
Manage the technical lapses that can hijack a live presentation
Deliver professional introductions
Communicate the meeting format so the audience knows what to expect
Field questions from the audience
Read the room to foster an optimal experience

When these needs are handled by a professional, your presenters, your professional staff, and most importantly, your audience can relax and fully engage with the material so carefully curated.

I've sat in too many audiences, cringing that this one piece wasn't considered.

Sure, the material being presented will still land. People will continue to network, and positive outcomes will be achieved.

But like a martini without an olive or a cake without icing...somehow your event feels "unfinished" without adding this one component.

Just one simple fix would dramatically improve the entire experience...and take the pressure off of so many other people so they can SHINE.

In THEIR lane.

Beating the Post-Conference Blues

Tue, 18 Apr 2023 18:56:40 GMT

It was great, right?

But now, we're back to real life.

There's nothing like the feeling of community when you're at a conference. I just returned from a thrilling, life-affirming weekend in Atlanta with my friends photographed above at the Fat Disorders Resource Society (FDRS) Annual Conference.

Conference people get us!

We share war stories, struggles, triumphs, and advice.

We take selfies, give hugs, and promise to stay in touch.

And then...we return home.

To real life! Bills, laundry, doctor's appointments, childcare, meals...the list is long. And the demands of real life can quickly erase all the good feelings you experienced while bonding with your peers.

So don't forget SELF-CARE.

Resist the urge to feel guilty for giving yourself time away from it all to attend the conference and recharge. Rather, keep the momentum going!

Here are some tips:

Reach out to a new contact from the conference and ask them how they're doing. (I bet they are also facing the "post-conference blues" and would love to hear from you.)
Look at the notes you took and implement just one idea that you gleaned from the experience. Taking action energizes the words on a page and makes them real. Plus, you'll feel great that you followed through on a promise to yourself.
Write yourself an affirmation that solidifies what you learned, not just about your profession or condition, but about yourself . Start with "I am..." and finish that sentence with words that make your heart feel lighter. Take that affirmation out and read it to yourself.

Your feelings are your emotional guidance system, so don't ignore them and just "barrel through" the mounting to-do list. Honor the fact that you're feeling a bit blue and take a moment to tend to those feelings.

Put your hand on your heart and affirm your love for yourself. (It'll feel a little weird at first, but trust me, it works.)

The most important relationship you'll ever have is with yourself. As I always say, "You're the one person you are guaranteed to spend the rest of your life with."

That's doesn't negate the beauty of encouragement that comes from surrounding yourself with good people.

But when it's just you, and the laundry, and the e-mails filling your inbox?

Remember to be kind to YOURSELF.

VICI Core Values

Fri, 03 Feb 2023 14:18:07 GMT

Are Your Core Values in Need of a Makeover?

Just like 80's sky-high helmet hair and 90's stirrup pants...

...it might be time to take another look at your organization's guiding principles.

I know! You're attached to them. They served you well for many years. And some may still be relevant, but when was the last time you looked at them with 2023 eyes?

W hen coaching executives, one of my first questions is, "What are your company Core Values?"

I usually get three different responses:

Ummm... (in other words, we don't really have them defined)
A random mashup of great principles but in no particular order (and difficult to remember)
A clear, concise, and confident recitation of four to six values

As you can imagine, #3 is a winning response, because it is the outflow of deeply felt ideas that are regularly practiced.

Core values must be far more than words posted on your website (and please, DO post them on your website!)

They must be living, breathing concepts that are the centerpiece of both coaching and praise in your organization. Reprimands and rewards are tied back to these values and when they are displayed by team members in exemplary ways, should be celebrated.

As living concepts, they evolve. What was spot on in 2018 is likely old and dusty in the vastly different work world of 2023. That doesn't mean your founding principles aren't still great; they may just need refreshing.

One of our favorite exercises at VICI Communications is helping executive teams talk through their values and arrive at a new clarity, with actionable ways to make them come alive in their workplaces.

And in the spirit of practicing what we preach, here's our VICI Core Values (easy to remember because they spell out VICI!):

1. Value big ideas. Instead of "What if?" we say, "Why not?" Big ideas challenge and inspire and our clients discover they can achieve more than they ever dreamed possible.

2. Insist on excellence. That's the infrastructure of integrity upon which big ideas can thrive. We work with clients to ask the difficult questions and arrive at solutions that are sustainable.

3. Choose love. Yep, fear is always knocking at your door, but we believe LOVE never fails. It does right by people and is the sweet yet strong tenet that causes people to trust and collaborate.

4. Infuse work with joy. We love what we do and because of it, you'll feel the relief that comes from working with us. The encouragement you'll receive will give you the courage to pursue your big dreams...and have fun in the process.

We love helping companies conquer their conference, communications, and culture challenges. And makeovers?

They're our specialty.

Schedule a complimentary call to talk about how we can help clarify your Core Values and make them an integral part of your company's success.

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The Irresistable Must

Because far worse is to live with the regret of sleepwalking safely through a watered-down life that could have been a thrilling adventure.

In other words, "Get busy living, or get busy dying." - Andy Dufresne (Ti m Robbins, The Shawshank Redemption)

The Other Side of Uncomfortable

Closer to Yes

There's Always Another Train

Falling to Pieces vs. Resting in Peace

Sacrifice vs. Surrender: The Hardest Lesson for a "Make-it-Happen" Woman

I've always been a "make it happen" kind of person.

Throw Yourself Into Life: What My Friend Frederika Taught Me

Grace for the Grinch

We’re going to run into some grinches this holiday season.

Slathered With Love: Of Life and Raisin Bread

Don’t think for one minute that this post will detail my culinary prowess.

Do Something Kind for Your Future Self

How are you taking care of your future self?

Elevator Evangelism

When Joy Finds You Along the Way

The Pain and Promise of Pruning

Ouch!

An Ode to "Nice"

The word "nice" always felt "meh" to me.

Life Gave Me Lemons (and it was a Good Thing!)

Bleary-eyed and still un-caffeinated, I stumbled to my backyard to get early morning sun in my eyes as recommended by my celeb crush, Andrew Huberman .

My Christmas Miracle

No matter what I did, the tree wouldn't light up.

Shortly after constructing it, I seriously questioned my judgment.

Somehow, between 2023 and 2024, gremlins invaded the Christmas tree box.

The moral of my story?

When you're at the end of what YOU can do for you, ask for help.

My true Christmas miracle isn't the tree.

Choosing Beauty Over Bitterness and Making Peace with Your Past

Sometimes when you're not looking, you find exactly what you need.

Loss. Disappointment. Grief. Heartache. Doubts. Fears. Depression. Betrayal. Desperation.

If presented with a menu of life options, I wouldn't have chosen any of these.

Not relinquishing my dreams, but unclenching my grip on assumptions about how my life should unfold.

Does Your Life Still "Fit" You?

Is your life like a pair of stilettos one size too small?

Four Ways Workplaces Can Beat the Sunday Scaries

How does the pit of your stomach feel on a Sunday night?

It’s hard to be good at anything when you’re miserable doing it.

Employees want to feel truly seen and heard.

C ommunication

A ppreciation

R espect

E xpectations

Here's what's great about core values: If consistently applied, they weed out bad employees.

Which makes life happier for the good ones.

The core values THEY wrote become house rules that help turn the ship.

When the Devil Showed Up in Zumba Class

The music blasted, the disco lights flashed, and I channeled my inner Shakira.

The Three "L's" to Level Up Your Communication

Hope Springs Eternal

This extra sunlight is good for my soul.

Be Your Valentine

I am in love!

It wasn't like I decided to surrender. I just got busy doing stuff that made me happy.

Saying "Yes" More in 2024

It's a time for resolutions, not regrets.

Start saying yes to opportunities to speak and along the way, you’ll find your voice.

Look at Me! I Got a Tree!

You might think, "Of course, Brenda. Most people celebrating Christmas get a tree!"

His absence was a Grinch that stole any idea of Christmas, let alone a tree.

And, out of nowhere...a desire to have a Christmas tree.

A tree symbolizes joy. Joy in living; joy in loving; joy in simply being. It's hopeful!

But one thoughtfully suggested I should coin it my "Thanksgiving Tree."

Lessons in Vulnerability

"What is the meaning of all this?" I cried out, for the first time in a while wondering if Anyone was listening.

What's problematic with the illogic of, "Surely one more bad thing can't happen..." is that you're gutted when it DOES.

The Universe used the accident and subsequent suspicious nodes to awaken me to my solitary confinement.

The Gift of Clarity

When we think of treasures in life, certainly family, friends, and health top the list. But lately? Clarity is queen. ﻿

It's Never Too Late to Be Who You Always Wanted to Be

This time last year I had a completely different life.

My dream knocked at the door of my fears, as dreams often do.

To this day, it gives me goosebumps to say, "My life's purpose is no longer a side hustle."

Because wherever you go, you take yourself with you. - Neil Gaiman

It's never too late to have a different life.

Why a Podcast on Pain?

When we think of treasures in life, certainly family, friends, and health top the list. But lately? Clarity is queen.

Turns out, pretty much EVERYTHING.

But now, we're back to real life.