This is for those of you who take great pride in expressing your thoughts and opinions freely with others. Have you ever been so blunt that the person you’re talking to stares back at you in uncomfortable silence? Or perhaps you value “telling it like it is” but then you edge on being offensive at times? If you’ve ever felt compelled to follow-up your authentic behavioral expression with, “What?! I’m just being authentic!” then please keep reading this. It’s time to stop an

“Some things are better left unsaid.” “The truth will set you free.” When you think about your approach to authentic voice and mindful leadership, which of these quotes resonates with you with most? If you find yourself wavering, or in the middle, that may be because there is an element of truth in both of these statements. However, striking a balance between voice and truth is no easy feat, and often we have an inclination to withhold or liberate our truth more than the desi

I am coming to the gradual recognition that mindfulness is deeply connected to the pace at which we move, think, and act. From rushing through my tasks and days to lazing slothfully in fits of exhaustion, I tend to oscillate between two states which are completely counter to mindful living. I’ve named these states the busy bee and the lazy loo – you might be familiar with them. The Busy Bee As a chronic high achiever, people pleaser, and do-gooder, I often neglect my capacity

Last month, I walked a labyrinth, a circular path for walking meditation where your journey to the center helps you encounter “self”. As I made my way through the labyrinth, I reflected upon a troubling pattern within my mindfulness practices. Often, I take my stories of not being good enough and needing to prove my value, and I let this stress and perfectionism be the main driver in my pursuit of being. Instead of using mindfulness as a tool to unlearn these old patterns, I

Moments in our lives when we are humbled by struggle are often the most memorable teachers. Unfortunately, these teachers tend to arrive at inopportune times, but I find that the wisdom they offer is always what I need to learn. It seems, a few weeks ago, I was due for a lesson. I was facilitating a pilot training program for professionals on bringing mindfulness to their organizations. My co-facilitator and I had spent countless hours developing the content material, recruit

This blog series has showcased inspiring, moving, and convincing content regarding the importance of mindfulness. My own posts have illuminated the ways in which mindfulness, as an approach and practice, has been critical to helping me act rather than react and reflect on how and where feminine and masculine energy are present within me. What has not yet been discussed in this blog series is how tiring mindfulness practices can be. From meditation and intention-setting to ref

Author’s Note/Acknowledgment: In addition to the specific research hyperlinked below, I could not have written this piece without the insight and accompaniment of three body-wise women: Lori Ann Arsenault, TRE trainer and facilitator; Carol Martin, spiritual director; and Terri Monroe, faculty and mentor. My current learning centers around one, sometimes embarrassing, revelation: most of the time, I have no idea what is going on in my physical body. Walking around with what s

I often find that I hold back when it comes to sharing my leadership reflections. It may appear to some that I exercise leadership actions and inquiry with ease; however, often I am only relaying half my message. In the past, I was burnt by offering my voice, particularly when individuals or groups were not ready to digest the message that I was offering. I took away from these interactions the belief that I needed to calm the flame inside of me. I believed that I was too pas

“Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.” -Prayer of St. Francis Assisi As a child, how often were you asked the age-old question, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” Adults probably encouraged your aspirations when you replied with the usual suspects: doctor, artist, astronaut, professional athlete. As a teenager heading off to college, I remember feeling the pangs of uncertainty while trying to answer this question, yet I also had a sense of urgency to resolve it.

From first through 12th grade, my peers bullied me for being more feminine than the other boys. My friends at school were girls. I enjoyed spending time with women more than men, particularly within my family. I enjoyed “girly” things like playing with my mom’s high heels, wearing nail polish, and figure skating—things society has taught us to believe that boys should not enjoy. So my classmates called me girl, sissy, queer, and other unsavory names. And it wasn’t just the po