A coaching colleague of mine, Sue, spoke told me recently about a 30-year-old client of hers in China who is not willing to settle for the role women have traditionally played in her community. Sue commented that this young woman is not limited by geography, but — with the help of technology — accesses information from all over the world, and thereby can make life choices drawing from a much larger pool of choices than her community offers her. She is reaching into the “unknown”, into the larger world around her, and finding like-minded people from whom to draw support as she creates the life and career she wants.

This struck me, for a number of reasons.  When my mother died in 2008, I had just (three months previously) moved the two of us to Tucson, Arizona where I was only beginning to get to know people.  And yet when I decided to use the Jewish tradition of sitting Shiva to help with the process of grieving for her, which involves the community around the bereaved bringing support in the form of casseroles, candles, and community, I was able — despite being a non-Jew who was reaching out to strangers — to find the support I needed.  In fact, people came every day and someone stayed with me every night for a week.  It was one of the most powerful and healing times in my life.

My colleague’s story also struck me because my generation grew up with so many secrets.  If there’s something wrong in the family, don’t talk about it.  Nice people don’t air “dirty laundry”.  I remember being told by my parents not to discuss the family’s secrets with the neighbors. Not surprising, really – they went through World War II, when keeping secrets could mean life or death. My colleague tells me that younger people don’t carry such secrets, and more, have access to a much wider array of information to dispel the secrets and myths that children too often grow up with in their families.

What my colleague’s story and my own experience also confirmed for me is that when we are in need, if we find the courage to reach out and ask for help, there will be people there.  It may not happen immediately — we may find some people who don’t understand — but if we practice trust and integrity, understand the commonality of our experience both good and bad, and ask not out of greed or manipulation but authentically and honestly, people will help.

The process I used was to first reflect on my level of need, and what if anything I could be doing to help myself.  Was I lacking in courage, or trying to get someone else to take a responsibility which was mine to take?  If so, I had to address that first and come back into integrity.  If I could then tell my story simply and directly, answering any questions honestly (other’s probing questions being an excellent litmus test to keep me honest!), I found people responded in sometimes amazingly generous ways.  If they could help they would; if they could not, they would tell me that, sometimes pointing me to others who could.  I still find this today, as I continually reach out and ask for what I need in my business and my life as, in the words of one writer, an existential migrant…

In my role as thinking partner and coach to business people, part of what I do is help them do what I do for myself.  When I hear something that doesn’t ring true or feel complete, I can help them explore it more deeply.  Because often we are unaware of our own blindspots, unaware of the ways in which we try to manipulate and control others.  I then encourage them to reach out and ask for what they need, and help them understand the response they get back.

These are the kind of conversations I and coaches like me are privileged to have with our clients.  What makes me so proud is that such conversations are helping others to awaken and become aware of their impact in the world, just as I was able to.

The world many of us grew up in (in the 50s and 60s) was a place of secrets, of a perceived need to control to feel safe, and of hidden agendas.  The world we’re intent on helping create now is a world of transparency and shared resources.  Thomas Power of eCademy describes it as the difference between institutional vs network thinking; between being Closed, Selective and Controlling vs being Open, Random, and Supportive. Won’t you join us?

Information overload, natural disasters, a precarious economy, the natural process of aging … and those are just the big ones!  On top of the daily challenges of living, it’s no surprise that many of us live with a level of fear and anxiety that at times feels like it will overwhelm us. What to do?

The first step is notice it. You don’t even have to do anything about it, but trying to ignore that sick feeling in the pit of your stomach, — or the racing heart, or shaking foot — just pushes the toxins inside, and doesn’t help your health. So get into the habit of noticing what your body is telling you: just before you go into a meeting, when you get on the phone with your spouse or kids, when you wake up on Monday morning (or any morning for that matter), when Friday/the weekend rolls around.  The good and the bad, just notice.

Then name it.  Whether you keep a pocket journal and jot notes about it when you take a break in the bathroom, or talk to a trusted friend, family member, or coach about it, naming an anxiety or concern can sometimes diffuse it.  It’s like shining a flashlight into that closet where all those nasty childhood monsters surely lived.  Speaking (or writing about) the problem or challenge helps you identify what’s going on, which can be enough to bring some comfort, and sometimes the solution you seek.

If it’s something you find yourself talking about over an over again, a type of relationship that doesn’t work for you perhaps, or a bad habit you start to notice keeps showing up, it’s time to ask for help.  This can be hard for a lot of us — too many of us were trained to be self-sufficient, not to ask for what we need, not to admit any type of vulnerability or problem.  The truth is, we are human, and humans are vulnerable and have problems.  We need each other, we need support, we need help.  Whether it’s a therapist or other professional, a specialist coach, or a 12-Step Program, there are plenty of sources out there once you start looking.  The hardest part for most of us is having the courage to say to people around us “I need help”.  But until you do, others can’t help you, and sometimes the answer is simpler than you think.  Yes, be selective — you don’t have to accept all the well-intentioned advice or suggestions well-meaning people around you may offer, and not all professionals will be a fit for you. In the 12-Step world they suggest attending at least six different meetings before you decide if it’s for you; if you’re thinking about a therapist or coach, interview them to be sure it feels like a good fit.  Be willing to look for the right person/situation for you.  But do look, do ask for help, then get started.

So what happens if the professional you turn to doesn’t have any more answers than you do, for instance for some of the big ones like the economy, war, and the state of our world.  What then?

Well, my answer is to find a deeper spiritual connection and understanding.  This is not something I used to advocate — not by a long shot!  But over the years I’ve found that sometimes the only solace, comfort, and peace comes from turning it all over to someone/something greater than myself, and being willing to trust that there are answers and a vision that I’m simply unable to see or comprehend from where I’m standing.  The book that first gave me access to this territory is Emmanuel’s Book, by Pat Rodegast (have a look at my booklist on my website if you’d like to order it — some of the other books I’ve found helpful are there as well).  It doesn’t so much matter what you believe, but rather that you are willing to believe there’s a power greater than us, whether it’s a being, nature, a group, God, or something else of your own understanding.  Turning over our cares and concerns help free us up to do something about the things we can change, and let go of the rest.

Once you’ve regained your balance and perspective, you will be able to climb back into the proverbial saddle and rejoin the game, alert and refreshed, able to concentrate on contributing what you uniquely bring to the world.  And that’s something we all need!

Since you ARE your business – at least in the early days of starting one – investing in yourself in terms of trainings, certifications, perhaps education is a really good idea. For instance, when I was becoming a coach, I did a coaching training program, a leadership program, and a Train the Trainer in a particular area of interest to me. These trainings led me indirectly to some of my longest-term and most fun clients. I continue to invest in programs that interest me and will help me expand my business, and have a (long!) list of others I want to take, when I am in a position to do so.

The only caveat here is be careful you don’t just blindly accept someone else’s version of what that training should look like. I wasn’t accepted into the business school I thought I wanted to attend, and was very disappointed at the time. Now, however, I wonder whether their program would have given me the depth and breadth I got by putting together my own training menu tailored to my interests and perspective…

Also, since my business is intentionally international, I’ve created opportunities for myself to travel, even when I “couldn’t afford it”. For instance, in ~2003 a friend who was living in Japan was getting ready to leave the country, and I’d been wanting to see her and Japan. I knew I’d never get another opportunity as good, so despite being on the wrong side of the edge financially, I used an unexpected insurance settlement to buy my ticket, and ended up having two Japanese women ask if they could work with me, meaning two new clients that more than paid for my trip. (because I was “in the neighborhood”, I also stopped to visit a colleague I’d met in South Africa, where I gave a talk to one of his clients, further adding to my international experience).

As for keeping your day job, I started my practice when my fortunes were at one of their lowest ebbs. I was out of work, having recently moved back to the US (after 7+ years in the UK) where most of my business contacts were cold or in a different industry, had had a couple of debilitating illnesses and some yucky family dynamics to clean up, both externally and internally. It was not an easy time, but I needed to earn a living. When I found coaching I ultimately so loved it (despite being pretty skeptical going into it) that I didn’t want to do any of the other filler work I had found along the way. So being hungry (i.e. no day job) meant I had to strengthen my sales and marketing muscle. I used CJ Hayden’s wonderful book, Get Clients Now at that stage, and it was realllly helpful in getting me focused. I also accepted a challenge to charge $300/month (the equivalent of $150/hour when I was still in training!) based on my business experience, and was thrilled when others (as in paying clients) agreed that what I had to offer was worth that. And I learned to “swing out” and claim clients that I could see and feel would benefit from working with me, which can be a really rewarding experience for both parties. This was a technique one of the aforementioned training programs taught me, and it’s been one of the keys to building my business.

So a final piece of advice I would add is, find what you most love to do in your work and with your life, because you will be energized follow that bliss even when it gets hard. Your next miracle is only a phone call, an email, or a new idea away!

So, when I was planning my trip, I sent out a series of emails to people I know – including a Corporate Responsibility listserve – to say I need a place to stay where I can work from “home” during the day, that’s very low-cost (on the order of £10-£15/day), and centrally-located.  A pretty tall order in London.

I had 5 responses.

Come to find out, my hostess in the one I chose gave me her bedroom (she’s on the couch in her lounge/living room), came out on public transport late on a work day to help me maneuver my luggage, is charging me less than half her monthly mortgage, and has even told me (without my saying a word) not to pay her until work starts coming in. Just to help me out. Someone she’d never even met before.

What makes a person be so kind? It almost boggles my mind, that someone would be so generous to a stranger. And this is not the first time I’ve had a similar welcome from someone from this corporate social responsibility world. These are people who, clearly, walk their talk in terms of their values.

It renews my faith that in a city the size and complexity of London, such generosity of spirit continues to flourish. Her support is helping me get my business back up and running, a business which I hope and intend will further contribute good in the world, particularly in the business world.

Long ago, in one of those so-called touchy-feely, woowoo workshops, the leader did an exercise with us about asking for what we need – about putting a request out to the universe and trusting something good will come back.  At the time, being very young and cynical, I crossed my arms, went all know-it-all, and said, “yeah, right.  Ok, what I need is a TV, because  I’m living alone and can’t afford to buy one.  Someone’s going to just give me a TV, right?”

Well, darned if someone else in the workshop didn’t put up his hand and say “actually, I have a TV and a VCR sitting in my garage that I’d love to get rid of – I’ll bring them round and install them if you like”.

!!

Ever since then I try to remember to ask for what I need, reach out when I’m struggling, and see what will happen if I connect with other people.  The help doesn’t always come in ways I might want (from a particular person, say) or expect, but more often than not, with a little patience, it does come.

I’ve heard a number of people talk about courage, and not understood what they meant. Recently I asked, and was told that – for instance – sharing deeply personal information in front of a group of peers is courageous. It seems to me that such a choice is not courageous, but wise.

For a bit of context, I had been participating in a training session at the time, with a local coaches alliance. We were learning about a particular type of coaching and the presenter, a very experienced coach, asked for a volunteer to be coached.

I volunteered because my life was not where I wanted it to be at that time. It was taking me longer to get back on my feet work-wise since my mom’s death than I’d wanted or expected – in fact, I had more clients at the time of her death (after four years of traveling back and forth between Florida and Massachusetts to oversee her care with advancing Alzheimers) than I did two years after she died. I’d traveled to London to explore re-establishing myself there, spent time in both Tucson and Massachusetts, but although I’d re-established some important connections and made some new ones, no reliable income had come through.

It was hard to talk about this in front of my peers – it’s not easy to write about it here. But here’s the thing. I’m not alone. Far from it, particularly these days. Many have been finding it difficult to find work, or are finding things we once relied on aren’t working any more. In fact, I count myself one of the fortunate ones – I have an incredible support system of good friends and colleagues around the world who support me, I’m good at meeting new people and networking, I own a home that I rent out that helps support me financially and to which I can retreat when I need space and peace, I have a profession that I love, to which I’m committed, and that I know I will be glad to be working in when I’m doddering around in my 90s.

And, this was one of those times in my life – times we all face – when the universe was trying to get my attention, to take me to my next level of understanding and growth. These times aren’t usually much fun, but the quicker I recognize it’s happening, the quicker I can go out and find the resources I need to move through this next phase of my journey with grace, resiliency, and with support from others. Which is what it’s all about, at least to me.

Moreover, sharing my story with others often helps them to share their story in turn, sometimes for the first time. This is an important step forward for many people – something we need more of on this planet, IMHO.

We “sophisticated”, “professional”, “advanced” humans have lost sight of this wisdom – how to feel deeply, look at what those feelings are trying to tell us, share those feelings with each other, and help each other learn from the process within a safe container. This is what I have the honor and privilege to do with my clients – and to do it with them, I have to be willing to do it myself.

So, I ask you – is that courageous? Or is it wise?

Whatever the reason, I wanted to share some things I’ve been learning about grief, because it happens to all of us, throughout our lives, losses that we have no choice but to move on from. And yet some days it feels like there must be another option, even if it’s to leave the planet so as to never have to feel that much pain again (and there are many ways we humans try to avoid pain, among them self-medicating with work, alcohol, sex, food, other people’s problems, TV, the internet, shopping…).

What I’ve learned about grief, first of all, is to notice and acknowledge the feelings. Simple as it sounds, this can be the hardest part. Personally, I am wired to bury my feelings almost before I feel them – often I only notice them when I find myself doing something inexplicable, like putting my water bottle down and walking away without it, eating food I know isn’t good for me, or snapping at people for no reason. I suspect I’m not alone in doing this. The good news is that I have been able to train myself to notice sooner. And once I notice, I have learned to stop and let those feelings come. Sit and have a good cry. Call a friend who’s also grieving so we can share each other’s burden just a bit, or someone who will just comfort me when I call. Write about it, as I’m doing now.

I’ve also learned to learn about the process. Elizabeth Kubler-Ross did some pioneering work in this field, largely by articulating and making available to a wider audience what humans in all cultures have learned over millenia. There are many others who have written or who teach about grief.

Mostly I’ve learned not to isolate, and to take time to grieve. Many of us – particularly busy business people who have lives and businesses to take care of, responsibilities to fulfill, people depending on us, families to care for – feel we simply don’t have time, try to push our grief aside and “just get on with it”. Unfortunately, I’m here to tell you, it doesn’t work that way (and trust me, I tried, for many years). Sure, you can bury your grief for a while, but it won’t stay buried forever. It will come out some other way – in an illness, or an inability to focus, or in making mistakes you know better than to make but that inexplicably, you make. And these will probably take more time (and potentially cost more) than just grieving in the first place.

My reaction to used to be to get mad at myself when my grief surfaced. I have learned that what I need is to be gentle with myself, take time to notice what’s going on with me, focus on and deal with it, even if it’s go outside for a walk with a wad of tissues in my pocket, or take the afternoon off and go do something completely different, perhaps something that honors or reconnects me with the one I lost.

Over time the pain does ease. In the beginning, we are numb of course, the walking wounded – nothing much makes sense – and we question everything (and often everyone) around us. That numbness protects us from the depth of our pain. And it may take a year or two (or more) to really start to notice strength returning, a feeling of getting back on our feet, literally.

Oh, the loss never goes away completely, nor would we want it to – those loved ones were a part of our lives, and we honor them with our tears and our remembrances. And with a primary loss come all the secondary ones and the ones we thought we buried, back again for another round – the family who never understood, the exes who hurt us, the hopes and dreams that have been destroyed because of someone’s stupidity or inability to face reality, the choices we’ve made that hurt us and others around us.

But slowly, from out of the depths, comes an easing, a lightening, a way forward that starts to make sense. With persistence, patience, and a lot of self-love, we do heal, and become stronger, and find a reason to keep on going. It may not be in our time, or in the time the world around us seems to expect, but it does come, and we will (it is true what “they” say), have grown stronger for it. I have experienced that, too.

I’ll finish with something I found in my sister’s journal after she died, something that has helped me immensely over the many years she’s been gone. Perhaps it will help you, too:

Her Dream began with winter darkness. Out of this darkness came a great hand – fisted. It was a man’s hand, powerful and hallowed by shadows in the wells between bones and tendons.

The fist opened, and in the long plain of the palm lay three small pieces of coal.

Slowly the hand closed, causing within the fist a great pressure.

The pressure began to generate a white heat, and still it increased.

There was a sense of weighing, crushing time. She seemed to feel the suffering of the coal with her own body – almost beyond the point of being borne.

At last she cried out to the hand, “Stop it! Will you never end it! Even a stone cannot bear to this limit…even a stone.”

After what seemed like too long a time for anything molecular to endure, the torments in the fist relaxed.

The fist turned slowly, and very slowly opened.

Diamonds, three of them.

Three clear and brilliant diamonds, shot with light, lay in the good palm. A deep voice called to her, “Deborah!” And then gently, “Deborah, this will be you.

I came across this quote in a book I’m reading, called “The Three Laws of Performance”, by Zaffron and Logan.  The quote resonated with me, because when I was in my 40s and trying to decide what I wanted to do when I grew up(!), I went through a creative process that has resulted in the work I do now. During that process, I had a moment when I could see, feel, and conceive the future I needed and wanted to create for myself.  It was an exciting and verdant time.

The quote also resonated because of a talk I heard yesterday by Barbara Marx Hubbard hosted by Women on the Edge of Evolution (womenontheedgeofevolution.com).  She spoke about the transformation the role of women has gone through since her youth in the ’50s, and how challenging it was for her to hear the new future she was destined to be part of, until she started to find other voices that were working on defining a new kind of future that excited and resonated with her.

We cannot always easily hear or recognize the future that is calling to us.  I heard part of it during my verdant time of creation in the mid ’90s, but more (much more!) is unfolding.  And as Barbara commented, in the early stages it can just feel like a restlessness for something different, an unspecified anxiety, even depression.  In The Bigger Game (www.thebiggergame.com) we talk about it as the hunger for something we can’t always name, but that will feed us once we’ve named it.

It’s taken me some time to hear the next piece of my future, and I’m not fully there yet.  I had some old baggage I needed to walk away from, and some family issues to deal with like the decline into Alzheimers and subsequent death of my mother.  I also needed to create (or find) a community of like-minded people within which to explore the ideas and activities I want to pursue.  I’ve found some more of that in London this past summer.

But it’s coming, it’s taking shape, and I’m beginning to hear the next piece of my future.  It’s an exciting process to be in!  So I encourage you who are reading this to take a moment to listen to yourself, your body, the voices in your head.  What are you hungry for?  What do you wish were happening in your world and the world around you?  What can you conceive of doing, even if you’re not doing it now – what problem would it be fun for you to solve?  Whatever it is, consider that perhaps now is the time to focus on it.

We can always find other things to keep us busy, but when you think about your priorities, where does the future of your world and your children’s world fit on that list?  When you then think about potentially changing a piece of that world for the better, and then about all the other things that keep you busy, what comes higher on your list?

I think we need to talk about it on both a broader and a more personal level.

We are all citizens of the world.  Whether we like it or not, want it or not, we are on a planet which is rapidly “growing smaller”; through technology like the internet, and because of the growing numbers of people with whom we share it.

This means we need to learn how to live together with the changes – be they in our economy, in our environment, in our children’s attitudes, in our own bodies – that will only continue to happen around us.

As I see it, we have a couple of choices in how we deal with these changes, both individually and as a global population.  We can close down and pull in on ourselves, try to hang on to what we have, deny what’s going on around and inside us, and hope that the storms will pass.

Or we can open up to the world, to each other, to the (sometimes difficult) lessons that our unique and individual lives have for us.  We can learn our own lessons and grow from them; we can share our experiences and what we’re learning with others around us, because it’s in the sharing that we learn it more thoroughly.

To quote a very wise spirit, (Emmanuel’s Book II, The Choice for Love), we really have two choices when it comes right down to it – to live from a place of love or from a place of fear.

I am seeing this daily in my own life.

For those who have not been tracking my movements, I am in London, talking to as many people as possible in order to generate sufficient work so I can move back here where I lived for most of the ‘90s.

I’m opening back up to the world after that most difficult first year since my mom’s death in January 2008.  This is a natural process, going inside to grieve then coming out of it, but nonetheless at times surprising, confusing, lonely.

In London I have been finding unexpectedly welcoming people, places to stay for free, and lots of people doing lots of interesting things that have me thinking “this is what I came to London to find”.

I have also been finding people who let me down, plans that fall through, and that I make mistakes when I’m striving for perfection.

And I have been finding that I only want to write when things are going well, but that doesn’t give an accurate picture, nor is it what I committed to when I started this blog.  What I’m doing is pulling inside myself in the fear that others will judge me and think less of me (which of course some will) if I admit all the moments of panic and anxiety associated with this latest adventure of mine.

In fact, when I take a more objective perspective I realize that all I’m doing is learning one of life’s difficult lessons, which is what makes life perfectly imperfect.

And, I suspect that’s when we most need to share, because when we try to minimize or hide our difficulties from each other, we aren’t giving each other the opportunities to learn and grow together, and that can be a great gift.

Certainly there’s much that can and needs to be done alone.  For me, that includes meditating twice a day, praying, reading.

It also includes talking to and building my support system.  What I find is that the more I open up, reach out, connect with those outside of me, the more I find what I’ve come here to find, and the smoother life flows.

This, for me, is a piece of the sustainability conversation I don’t always hear.  In sustaining myself, I sustain my work in the world, the initiatives I have started, and all that is left for me to do.  Which means I can then participate with more clarity and wisdom in the conversations about how we sustain ourselves on our planet.

I suspect that I (we) neglect either to my (our) peril.  What do you think?

May in Massachusetts was productive.  I found someone to rent my house for at least a year, and someone to rent my studio for the summer and take care of my cat, meaning I’m free to continue my travels.

Professionally, I am now re-certified to lead the Bigger Game Experience (www.biggergame.com), an experiential workshop that helps individuals and teams bring innovation and change into their lives and work.  I am also now a trained Shadow coach – meaning I can literally walk with my clients through their days and be their “thinking partner” as they grapple with the decision-making, internal and external change processes, personalities, politics, and myriad other challenges of being a senior-level leader.   This is work I’ve wanted to do for a long time – I’m ready!

On the spiritual front, I had a divination with a shamanic colleague, Malidoma Patrice Somé (www.malidoma.com), who confirmed that it’s past time for me to be in partnership.  In fact, it is already starting to happen – my Massachusetts days were filled with old friends and new, helping me get the house and studio ready, helping me on various stages of my journey, helping me with my cat.  And now, here in London, I’ve received unexpected offers of help and support as well.  And, my goal is to ramp that up and enter into deep, lasting partnership, both personal and professional.

The dance gathering in NYC was amazing (www.frankie95.com).  Much as we all missed him, it was heartening that Frankie received a well-deserved full-page obituary in the NY Times.  The 1700+ attendees that came in from all over the world more than did justice to his legacy of how humility and service honors that which you love (for him, the Lindy Hop).  If you ever get to see two pastors dancing in a pulpit (a first for both!) because the music and the impact of the deceased on the rest of the congregation was too compelling not to, you’ll know you’ve lived to witness an impact both amazing and powerful.  Their response to the outpouring of love for Frankie was a profoundly human response.

Now in London, I find myself in an unexpectedly appealing place (Brockley, southeast London) for my first month.  I arrived on June 10th, and am sharing a flat with a woman from a Corporate Social Responsibility listserve (groups.yahoo.com/group/csr-chicks/).  Coincidentally, a very dear colleague and one of my favorite dance partners each live right around the corner.

I’ve been offered two house-sitting opportunities (one for the remainder of  July and one for August) and I haven’t yet started setting up visits to see old friends outside London.  I had my first couchsurfing experience in Toronto, June 4th to 7th, which means I now have that to fall back on for any gaps in my schedule.

This lifestyle I’m setting up is unusual, to be sure – certainly not the settled suburban life I grew up in.  And, it works for the work I do.  I meet people when I travel, and the work develops from there.

Yes, I’ve had mornings where I get a lurch of panic, wondering if I’m crazy – the lurch of any risk-taker or entrepreneur.

However, things have come together nicely, and the work opportunities look ready to multiply.  There’s lots of good energy around this trip, lots of reasons for hope and optimism.  There’s strong local community here in Brockley, and I’m reconnecting with coaching, dance, and personal development communities.  This morning I coached a colleague and was reminded of how much I love the work I do.  I am blessed to be of service to good people, and helping him re-energized me and refueled my awareness that what I do is needed in the world.

So, I’ll close with the overview that I developed yesterday of what I offer.

What I do is help savvy leaders start and build their businesses

My services include:

1.    Coaching – Developing you so you can start, build, or expand your business

o    Shadow Coaching – being your real-time thinking partner
o    Business Artists™ – helping you identify your true life’s work

2.    Consulting – Pragmatic and tangible contributions to new or growing organizations

o    Operations – what’s coming in, what’s going out, and what’s happening internally in between
o    Business Development and Strategy – taking the business to the next level

3.    Facilitation for teams

o    Bigger Game – an innovation and change model
o    Catalysts for Change – a “by invitation only” retreat for senior-level, international executives

That’s what I most love bringing into the world.

Until next time, blessings on you, your loved ones, and your work in the world.

Deborah

—————————————–
Deborah Huisken, PCC
Dancing Star International
Services for savvy leaders who are
starting and building businesses
VoIP:  +1 617 275-5706
UK cell:  0798 521-4520
Deborah@DancingStar.com
www.DancingStar.com

Partnering internationally with executives,
entrepreneurs, intrapreneurs, and other
Business Artists™ to tap untapped talent

Frankie was a dancer.  But not just any dancer – Frankie was a key architect of the Lindy Hop.  You’ve probably heard of it as swing or Jitterbug, but if so you’ve only heard a small and inaccurate part of the story.  Its true name was Lindy Hop, and Frankie was one of the dancers who brought so much excitement to it that people all over the world wanted to know about and do it.

Frankie grew up in Harlem during the time of the big bands in the 1920s.  Among other things, he was the first to throw his partner over his back in time to the music (known as an aerial and now one of the best-known features of the dance), he introduced the idea of choreographing a performance routine to perform for audiences, and he traveled around the world during the ’30s and ’40s performing with the bands for audiences that included many luminaries, such as crowned heads of Europe.

He was also a very kind and loving man.  He didn’t say a lot (unless asked to tell stories about the “old days”, which he was frequently), but if you were a friend, you’d get a Christmas card every year, maybe postcards from one of his many travel destinations, always a warm “Hey, baby” when he heard your voice or saw your face.

After the war (that would be WWII), the music changed and there was a lot less interest in the dance he so loved.  So, he went to work in the Post Office for about 30 years.  Few if any of his fellow workers even knew he danced – he wasn’t the type to blow his own horn.  He just started a new life, and from all accounts created a new community of friends.

But then in the mid-80s a couple of young kids looked him up, because they’d seen some old movies (like Hellzapoppin’ and Day at the Races) that he’d performed in, and wanted to know about this dance they were seeing.  He was reluctant, but once they got him up to the music, he started dancing again, and didn’t stop until he died on Monday, April 27 at the age of 94, just a month shy of his 95th birthday.

Doin' the Shim Sham in his '90s!

He’s finally gotten some much-deserved recognition in recent years – much has been written about him on the internet (frankieslegacy.blogspot.com, yehoodi.com) and in the obituaries of the New York Times, etc.  Dancers from around the world will be gathering in New York City to honor him from May 21st to 26th.  We had expected that he’d be dancing with us – I suspect he will be, just not in the physical body that served him so well for so many years.

I share this story because Frankie was an inspiration to me.  He taught me that doesn’t take being pushy, nasty, or self-promoting to make your mark on the world, and that sometimes what has seemed to be over with and done can resurface in the most unexpected ways.  He taught me that it is entirely possible to make your mark on the world and on future generations just by doing what you love, by loving what you do, and by being gracious to the people you come in contact with, even when they aren’t always gracious and loving to you.

Frankie at Michelson Galleries, Northampton, MA

I’m a better person for having known him, and eternally grateful for the time I was privileged to have spent with him.