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This morning I posted a meme on Facebook from one of my favorite pages; Wordporn. I love this site for 2 reasons, #1 is that I can post something publically with the word porn in it and #2 they have some great inspirational memes. They have some garbage as well, but this is the interweb and it wouldn’t be it without the trash.

This meme talks about how every person leaves their fingerprint on the lives of the people they meet. I’ve been very fortunate to have some amazing people leave their fingerprints on my life. I’ve also had some not-so-amazing people leave their greasy, dirty fingerprints as well. And as beautiful, painful or unwanted as those fingerprints may have been, I’m grateful for each and every one of them.

I have an amazing group of women that I consider my “wolfpack” and we take turns leaving fingerprints on each others lives every time we talk – by text, phone or in person. I’ve learned so much from these women, and probably the most important fingerprint lesson of all is that we all should find those that allow us to be ourselves. To be unabashedly real, with every fault, every flaw and every sparkle we possess without the fear of ridicule, judgment or jealousy. I know that I have the freedom to say whatever I’m thinking or feeling without having to censor. They may not always agree with me, and they aren’t shy about saying so, but they never make me feel like my opinion or feelings are wrong or inappropriate.

Speaking of inappropriate – I get to be that too. I get to make whatever inappropriate comments, innuendo or “off the cuff” remark pops into my head. (In fact, I’m guessing they’re chuckling at off-the-cuff, I am.) Not only do they laugh at my juvenile sense of humor, but they share in it and we spend oodles of time bouncing one inappropriate remark off another. This is when you know you’ve found your tribe and that the canvas of your life is forever enriched by their finger-painting, even if it’s only done with the middle finger.

I’ve had my share of ugly fingerprints too, those that when they were being placed on my life I couldn’t see the reason for other than to cause me pain. The guy that broke my heart, I thought I’d never love that way again…but now, after enough time has passed to really examine those fingerprints, I’m grateful. Not for the pain but for the lesson left when the pain is gone. Not only do I know that I’ll find love again, but it’ll be healthier, grander and filled with more beautiful fingerprints than ugly ones. Is there a part of me that wishes he’d burned those fingertips a little when leaving his mark (not a lot, but enough so that it stings for a long while)? Absofuckinglutely, but doesn’t mean there’s not value in the prints left behind.

And now there are new fingerprints being left, ones that remind me that every fingerprint is unique. That unexpected and unforeseen fingerprints can be wonderful and surprisingly easy. Will these fingerprints continue? Don’t have a clue…but that’s part of the excitement right? Not knowing if these fingerprints are meant to continue to be bright and filled with light or if they’ll turn dark and bear another lesson. What I need to remember is that these fingerprints shouldn’t be held in comparison to any others.

There are the fingerprints that family leave…these are often the best and worst. From my parents, my aunts, uncles and cousins to my those distant relatives that may not know that they’ve left their fingerprints, but they have, some profoundly. My parents get blamed a lot for the fingerprints I leave on others because of those they’ve left on me. I’m emotional like my mom, so when I cry (and yes, I know it’s often) I blame her. That was her fingerprint…well, her’s and most of her sisters’. When I’m a little loud and sometimes pig-headed, my dad get’s blamed. He’s not one to allow people to walk all over him and while it may have taken me longer to get there, his fingerprints are much more visible now.

My children have left probably the most fingerprints in my life, good and bad. From the beautiful prints of their accomplishments like learning to walk, saying, “I love you Mom,” overcoming something they thought they couldn’t do, to growing into adulthood and becoming my friend. There are just as many dark fingerprints from the times of watching them fail at something, hearing “I hate you, you don’t know me,” to seeing the pain they suffer when being handed dirty fingerprints from someone else and knowing there is nothing I can do to change it. From these fingerprints I’ve learned the greatest lessons…good and bad and I know that they’ll learn great lessons from the fingerprints placed in their lives.

Even the most difficult to please customer leaves a fingerprint in my life. These prints remind me that when I am placing my prints on someone  new, what do I want to leave as a mark? I don’t want my fingerprint to be the reason someone goes home hating their job. I don’t want to be the customer that receives poor service because someone else has placed angry and disparaging prints on the person waiting on me….I certainly don’t want to be the reason someone else get’s that type of treatment.

Each person you encounter today, and every day after, you will leave a fingerprint on their life; whether you’ve known them for years or are only seeing them in passing. Before you speak, smile, or turn away, think about the fingerprint you’re going to leave on their life. Do you wish to be the fingerprint that brings them sun or do you wish to be a lesson…your fingerprint is your own, as utterly unique as you are, so it’s up to you to figure out how to use it.

I Rise ~Andrea

 

 

I’ve started at least 4 blog posts in the past 2 weeks with subjects ranging from charitable events to friends to gym etiquette, but I haven’t yet been able to string enough words, or substantial thoughts, together to create a moving post. I’ve been asked a number of times when the next entry is coming and I’m starting to freak out a little. The last thing I want to do is to not post something that others might identify with, or worse, something that has zero heart and integrity in it. So…I just haven’t posted. Even as I type this, having reread the entries I began but struggled to finish, I am really starting to wonder if my blog well has run dry. Have I run out of topics to write about that I’m passionate about or that I feel I can contribute a unique and heart felt opinion about? No, not likely…but what I fear is that I’m finding other things to fill my time with rather than having to use brain power to create my next post.

Can a person just run out of words to say? Can you feel passionately about a subject but just not have the energy to form cohesive thoughts about it? How much time should one allow themselves to sit idle without pushing themselves to action? And if we push ourselves to action, is the result the heartfelt and meaningful post people have become used to reading and have actually enjoyed? I voiced these questions to my brother the other day and even though I’m older and am supposed to be wiser (questionable at best) he always provides me with advice and guidance I hadn’t previously thought of. This time his advice was the same that I’ve given to others many, many times over; sometimes you just have to show up and, well, fake it til you make it. This isn’t to say that I should be faking my feelings on subjects that I write about or that I should be making up events to write about. It simply means that I put the pen to paper (yes, I know I’m using a computer) a couple of times a week and just write…even if I’m not feeling especially inspired to do so.

So…here we are. I’ve got a number of subjects that I’m passionate about, things that I can talk about for hours and hours, however, none is screaming to be written about at this moment. Instead, I’m doing what I know to do, write, and to do so without pretention and with whatever is heartfelt. In a sense, I’m showing up….putting one foot in front of the other and respecting a commitment I made to create these blogs, even if no one reads them. And in the bigger picture that’s really what most of our lives are about, isn’t it? It would be wonderful to be able to live every single day with a passion that sets your hair on fire and drive and determination that never needs rest…but that’s not realistic. Yes, we can live very passion filled, driven lives, but even the most passionate and zealous need some down time…time when they simply put one foot in front of the other.

It’s almost ironic that I’m writing about this because I just spent a week at a conference that made me think, gave me a little boost in the inspirational department and allowed me to see the passion resurge in the eyes of those around me. But, how realistic is it to think that we’re all going to be walking around filled with fire and spewing motivational quotes all day, every day? It’s not…and much of our lives are filled with the uninspiring and mundane. I don’t know that many people that would find washing the dishes, taking out the trash or sweeping the floor to be what sets their soul on fire (in fact, I can think of approximately zero people) but they are all things that as human beings and adults, have to get done. As unglamorous as it is, it’s real and in my opinion, it’s what makes those moments of inspiration and passion all the more intense and heartfelt. If not for days where doing the laundry is the highlight of our day, would the days when our creative juices really flow seem all that exceptional? Probably not….and if we always performed at a level of high intensity and motivation, when would we recharge? Even athletes of the highest level of performance need down time to recover and rejuvenate. Surely we mere mortals do as well…

As I head home from an incredible week, super charged and energized for the weeks coming I’m going to take the next 36 hours to enjoy the mundane tasks of doing my laundry, seeing people that make me smile, moving my body to stay healthy (and burn the excess craft brewers conference calories, thank you DC for the extra 5 pounds) and allowing my brain to rest. And the same is true for this blog…maybe I’ll come back tomorrow with something that has my heart and brain on fire and feel the need to share it with everyone…maybe I won’t. But, I’m here, I’m putting one foot in front of the other, I’m showing up…and some days, that’s all we really need to do.

I Rise ~ Andrea

People watching is one of my most favorite things to do, for a whole bunch of different reasons. Anyone that knows me knows that I love fashion; shoes, clothes, accessories, the whole nine; people watching is perfect for that. However, another reason for people watching is what I see, the interactions between others fascinates me. As I sit here at Orlando International Airport, the people watching is at an all time high, of course the bloody mary I sip at 9:30am doesn’t hurt.

I wasn’t paying attention when I booked my trip to Florida, not realizing my return flight included a 5 hour layover in Orlando…so I find myself here at Ruby Tuesday’s, sipping a bloody mary, watching a waitress run her buns off with no help for 15 tables and a smile on her face. Some people are programed for that kind of high stress, high speed work, she is obviously one of them. I’m hoping her tips for the shift reflect her dedication to her customers, her demeanor and her incredible memory. I can’t influence others but I can make sure that my contribution to her style of living is respectable.

There’s also a table in front of me that is likely 3 generations of men; son, dad and grandfather. If I had to venture a guess there’s golf involved, and that’s purely speculative based on their attire. There’s some jovial ribbing from father to son, and back…grandfather sitting more quietly sipping his coffee. Is he thinking how proud he is of how his boy, and now his grandson, turned out? Was he the father that ribbed his son the way he’s seeing these two rib each other? Or, is he listening, wishing that he’d had that easy back and forth with his son that he’s witnessing, but was hindered by worries of having to feed a family raised during the depression? Whatever is going on in his head, the look in his eyes is incredibly easy to read; unconditional love. Makes me very grateful for the past 5 days spent with my folks and a couple with my brother. My parents weren’t perfect, I’m sure often distracted by the costs of having to raise a family and attempting to balance that with family values. But, when we get together, there’s nothing but love…an occasional jab sent with much love and respect, not always received as jovially, but the love is always there.

The table to the left of me is a couple and apparently, a friend they ran into here at the airport. The male half of the couple is quiet, unassuming, quick to smile but not much for conversation. His wife/girlfriend/significant other however, is having the most spirited conversation with this 3^rd party that they ran into here. He’s adorable, all 4’10” of him. Reminds me of a professional jockey…kinda dressed like one too, but his personality is spring loaded. He may be small in stature, but makes up for it in the space his personality takes up. Dressed all in purple, hat, shirt, wind pants…he speaks a few decibels above those around him, makes grand hand gestures and laughs with every ounce of his 120 pound body. Even watching him text he does so with flair. I can imagine people are instantly either drawn to him to find out what makes him so full of life, or repulsed by his ability to live so freely. I’m content to sit here and listen to him regale his two breakfast companions with tales of his shenanigans while here in Florida.  I’m apparently very tame…who knew?

Now I turn my attention to the 10 or 12 people that are dining alone this morning. It wouldn’t take a rocket scientist to be able to guess that the majority of these people are on their cell phones, strike that, all are on their cell phones. Comfortable behind their screens (I say this with the screen of my laptop as my security blanket) feeling less alone and vulnerable because they have “their people” in the palm of their hand. It’s not a new, earth shattering revelation to see people so uncomfortable with being alone that they HAVE to have their phones out rather than appear alone. Why? I’ve met so many amazing people (and almost as many not so amazing – if I’ve never told you about my flight to Brussels, remind me to) while I travel and refuse to take out my phone. I do respond to my emails and text messages, but refuse to allow my phone to be a barrier to being completely available to whatever/whomever crosses my path. And to the gentleman on the Bluetooth; Yes, sir, you do look like a douchebag…you’re sitting here doing nothing and you can’t be bothered to pick up your phone to speak? Come on…unless you’ve got a disability that doesn’t preclude you from moving your carry on but does prevent you from picking up your phone, pick up your damn phone.

I’ve now fallen in love with a young family; the parents in their mid-thirties and 3 kids all under the age of 6, and Grandma. The parents aren’t putting screens in front of the kids, they aren’t looking rushed or frazzled, they’re playing games. The mom, the dad and (I’m assuming) the grandmother, all engaged with the little ones. One playing This little piggy with the baby, one playing a card game I assume to be memory with the oldest, and one building edible towers with cut fruit. That’s the family I love to see now, but when I was a parent, hated because they made me feel woefully inept as a parent. I never managed a trip, by any mode of transportation that didn’t end up with one or both of the kids in tears and me looking like I just survived the bombing of Hiroshima. As a mom with small children, I didn’t want to see parents that were “crushing it.” I wanted to see, and bonded with, parents that were just as exhausted, frustrated and that were undoubtedly screwing up their kids, just like me. Now, with my kids grown and gone, I like to forget about the uncombed hair and dirty faces and reminisce about the parent I wished I had been, connecting emotionally with this mom, rather than the one I was….looking like 90% of the other mom’s travelling with small children.

Typically my blog is about observations I have that lead me to revelations, but not today. Perhaps my brain is still on vacation, maybe it’s just because I don’t have any deep thoughtful thoughts to contribute, maybe this one is meant to lead you to your own thoughtful thoughts…whatever the reason I’ll continue my people watching, but I’ll put my screen down so I can work on my people interactions rather than watching. I wonder what observations have been made about me….meh, who cares? Probably won’t start chatting with the dude on the blue tooth, his cologne level was just a bit too much for me….but maybe this group of 4 guys that just sat down who are on a trip to celebrate their buddies 40^th birthday, starting at 10:37am with shots of tequila all around….

Most everyone knows what I do for a living, at least those reading this blog as it’s mostly those that love me 🙂 For anyone that doesn’t, I am the CEO of a craft brewery that now employs 20 people. In the few short years I’ve worked for the company we’ve grown from 3 to 20 and I am insanely lucky to have the team that I do working with me every day. That said, I’m still extremely insecure in my leadership capabilities…although I try to hide it as much as I can.

I have this inherent fear that people will realize I’m not as smart, as capable or as qualified as everyone thinks that I am. I know I am capable of getting things accomplished and I know that I work hard at whatever I do. However, I seem to lack the faith in me that others have. I have infinite faith in those I work with to be able to accomplish all that they need to, but for some reason, I lack that faith in myself. I love all that we’ve managed to do both for the organization but also for the community and look forward to doing much, much more.

So, why can’t I have the same faith in my abilities that others have in me or that I have for others? What am I lacking to be able to have the confidence in my intelligence or work ethic to feel confident in our future growth? Why can’t I look at what we’ve done as proof that I have the knowledge to do even more? And, what can I do to instill in the others that they have the knowledge and skills to achieve bigger and better things, here or, let’s be real, elsewhere? These are questions I ask myself regularly…and then I get told the 3 little words that everyone wants to hear from someone they love and admire, “You’re crushing it.”

Those that know me and this company know that it was founded by my brother. My younger (yes, I just publically admitted it), uber intelligent and charismatic brother. He had a dream and took a leap of faith. Once the need for substantial growth was there, he brought me onboard.  An opportunity I will never forget and am completely grateful for. I’ve been the hands on lead for the brewery every since, insecurities and all.

Last night we were discussing some of the day-to-day ongoings and some of the further out plans I had for the company. And he uttered those 3 little words, “You’re crushing it” and for a moment I knew I could do what I’ve been tasked to do. When I’m given that positive feedback I gain a sense of confidence and assuredness in my abilities, even if two weeks later I feel those doubts creeping back in. Do I want him to tell me daily that he believes in me? No, that, I’m afraid, would cause those words to have less and less weight each time they were uttered. But as I write this, I’m beginning to wonder if being insecure about my capabilities is what continues to drive me to push myself harder for each of these accomplishments. Perhaps, but, there certainly is a lesson to be learned here.

The lesson I’m learning, even as I type this, is that the impact of those 3 little words is immense. The ability to give those around me a sense of accomplishment, whether it’s a temporary or longer term feeling, requires so little effort. Doled out like candy it becomes ineffective, but spoken genuinely and with heartfelt sincerity, it can remind someone that they are capable of accomplishing things they never imagined. Regardless if it’s your child, your employee, your teammate or your partner, hearing those three little words can mean the difference between them working just a little harder, trying something outside their comfort zone, or allowing those doubts and insecurities to prevent them from flying.

If no one else remembers to tell you this today, know that I think you’re crushing it.

I Rise ~ Andrea

 

Yesterday, at the gym a friend and I were talking about how different things are for kids and teenagers, specifically teenage girls, today then they were when we were growing up. We talked about how much more aware of the world they are, how they have instantaneous access to whatever is happening in the world, the good and the ugly. Today’s teenagers are more informed than any other generation before. While in many ways this is a wonderful thing, many teenagers are feeling the need to act on the injustices they witness around the world, they also have the ability to spread information just as instantaneously.

Last night I watched the affects of that ability devastate and emotionally traumatize an amazing young lady. Why are girls, and even women, so cruel to one another that they’re ok with tearing each other down and rallying others to do it as well. It starts young, but why? Why are girls programmed so differently than boys? When did it become ok to gang up on one another to convince others that one girl isn’t worthy? And how is it some girls outgrow the “mean girl” and some grow to be mean women? No one is perfect, no one is without fault, but since when does being imperfect make it ok for you to be the target of others?

I watched a young woman that had issues with one other young woman be ostracized by an entire team of girls. Is she perfect? Nope. Is she without fault? Nope….but you know what she is? She’s human. She’s kind, caring, generous, sweet, but human. She owns her humanness and apologizes for those times when being human may affect others. She takes accountability for things she may do or say that negatively affect others…so to see her be treated so cruelly by not one, but several others, others that she did nothing to, was not only painful to witness but pissed me off to no end. It made be wonder how this happens. We all long to belong, we want to be accepted for our positive and negative characteristics, and we want to be loved by those around us. Why do we allow this “mean girl” phenomenon to continue?

What can we do to change this? No girl should ever feel totally alone. No girl should ever feel like they need to be anything other than who they are to be accepted. No girl should ever feel like it’s just her against the world. How do we change the dynamic with our young women to be accepting and forgiving of others? How do we convince young women that they can use the “pack mentality” to be inclusive rather than exclusive? How do we teach the next generation of strong, independent young women that being strong and independent in adolescence should be celebrated not ostracized? There’s only one way I can think of; to model this behavior as adults.

It’s visible in business, politics, social circles and pretty much every aspect of life. Women are threatened by other women and because of this treat each other with the same behaviors they did as adolescent girls. They gang up, they tear down and they ostracize.  What would help our young women to become secure, stable and productive strong women is to see productive, strong women helping each other up, to know that forgiving and supporting each other helps all women to grow. To celebrate our differences rather than being afraid of them, using whatever opportunities we have available to us to enhance each others’ lives rather than being jealous or scared that those differences make someone more or less than us.

Not everyone will be your cup of tea, there will be women that you won’t necessarily want to spend time with or become besties with, and that’s ok. What isn’t ok is tearing those women down or treating them inhumanly because they aren’t your cup of tea. Being kind doesn’t mean you have to like everyone…it means just that, being kind. It means using the opportunities you have available to you to do good, to allow people to be who they are without fear of being treated negatively…and that’s what we need to instill in the young women in our lives. We need them to know that regardless of the style of music they listen to, the books they read, the color of their hair, the style of their clothing, or the sports they choose to be a part of that they are beautiful, that they are loved and that they are enough…and to encourage them to treat others the same way.  Only when we show others through our actions that they are enough will the next generation learn that they too are enough.

I was beginning to wonder if I’d have a post this week. My life has been pretty isolated the past few days as I’ve struggled with a cold. Generally my writings stem from interactions with, or observations of, other people.  Being under the weather, I go to work, and then home. I don’t handle sick well, I’m the proverbial man when it comes to illness.  I whine, I get pissy and I even get angry. I think because it’s so rare that I feel like I just don’t have time for it.  Which brings me to the reason behind this entry.

Emailing a friend the past few days about a whole host of things because his mind works like mine, a ping pong ball in a shoebox being shaken violently, and of course, I had to complain about being sick. Mind you, he’s even more sick than me, like antibiotics sick, but yet in my mind, I’m the one dying. This morning, I mentioned that I hadn’t been to the gym, other than teaching a spin class last night, since Saturday and that I was feeling like a slob. His words were, “A slob-I haven’t gone to the gym in months…I don’t wanna hear you talk about feeling like a slob! You spun last night and you are sick…that is maximum effort even without feeling well…Praise not condemnation for yourself sista…”

And there it was, the inspiration for this post…learning to praise not condemn ourselves.  How easy is it to berate oneself for things where we feel like we’ve fallen short, but with others we’re quick to remind them of their accomplishments not failures. Why can’t we do that with ourselves?

I’m always the first person to remind others that they’re human, that they won’t always succeed with everything they attempt but that the lesson is in the attempt, not the success. That we need always be kind to ourselves first, yet I’m the last to take my advice, even when I’m sick. I remind others to take time to heal, to take care of themselves and most importantly, speak kindly of and to themselves. If someone else had said to me what I did about feeling like a slob for missing gym time, I know exactly what my reaction would have been; an eye roll of epic proportions, likely an expletive (or two), and a reminder that we need to listen to our bodies. I would never allow someone else to talk to themselves the way that I talk to myself.

In this day and age, kindness is essential as we move forward, I don’t think that’s any big secret. What I think we miss is that there’s also an opportunity to learn to be kind to ourselves. That it’s just as important as being kind to others. Why do we allow ourselves to have expectations of what we are supposed to do higher than what we expect from others? And why, when those expectations aren’t met, do we allow ourselves to mentally and verbally punish ourselves?

I’m reminded of the Saturday Night Live skit, “Daily Affirmations with Stuart Smalley.” While this is the extreme exaggeration of what I’m referring to, there’s merit in this skit. Stuart takes time daily to remind himself that he’s “Good enough, smart enough and Doggone it, people like me.” We remember to send text messages to our significant others or children reminding them we love them and are proud of them, but yet we poke fun at the idea of doing that for ourselves. Why shouldn’t we remind ourselves that we’re good enough, smart enough and that people like us?

I challenge you, and myself, to start seeing ourselves through the eyes of others. To celebrate our successes but also to forgive our shortcomings. To talk to yourself as if you’re talking to a friend…with the same level of care and tenderness as you’d afford someone else. The next time you’re tempted to speak to yourself harshly, to belittle yourself for some perceived failure, to be unkind, remember that you’d never allow someone you love to speak to themselves that way, why should you? I am good enough, I am smart enough and yes, doggone it, people like me.

 

I Rise ~ Andrea

 

 Here goes, my very first post….

Tonight I had the good fortune to spend some time with two amazing women. We had dinner then hit the movies, a treat that I thoroughly enjoy but rarely make the time to indulge in. We had decided to see the film, Hidden Figures,  a phenomenal movie about the US space program in the 1960s and the amazing women, African American women that were essential to the success of that program.

The movie was well written, witty, historically sound, romantic, but most of all inspirational. One could not sit through the movie without being moved to action, or at least the desire for action. The specific action is as individual as every woman in the audience.  For some I can imagine they might be inspired to pursue a new level of education as one of the characters in the movie did. Another viewer might be inspired to stand her ground and demand she be acknowledged for her actions, whatever they may be. Yet another might simply be moved to encourage other women to see the movie and plant the seed of action in their hearts and minds. Whatever it was, most leaving there made similar comments about being inspired.

For me, that inspiration is here, in this blog, at least in part. There are still many things I wish to do, some short term and some long, that will require action, but like so many I often allow life to interfere with that action. Not tonight. Tonight after leaving the theater, I knew that if I continued to put off this first post, hoping to find the perfect subject matter, the blog would never be written. We all have things in our lives that we’ve wanted to accomplish but that we put off and unfortunately some will never be done.

I’ve got a shoe-box, if you will, of conceived but not completed goals, dreams and desires left in different stages of infancy, but not this one. Tonight these amazing women; Katherine Goble Johnson, Dorothy Vaughn and Mary Jackson brought me to tears but also ignited a fire to act. These women moved my mind and my soul, they faced huge obstacles that must have seemed insurmountable, and yet overcame them. Why would I allow the obstacle of my own mind to prevent me from doing what I am passionate about when these women were able to accomplish so much? I won’t.

This begins a new chapter for me, a new adventure, a new dream. Thanks to incredible women, the women in the movie and those I surround myself with regularly, I can act…and this blog is truly just the beginning.

I Rise ~ Andrea