All sorrows can be borne if you put them in a story or tell a story about them. Karen Blixen Dana King shared with me a story about Molly Jackson,
In June, unemployment hit 9.5%, the highest rate in 25 years, and a "sobering indication that the longest recession since the 1930s has yet to release its hold", wrote the NY Times. Not that any of us needed this statistic to know that times are tough. Many of us have seen our net worth dwindle, and are tightening our belts to an extent we haven't had to in years, if ever. Yet I find myself optimistic.
During a particularly challenging week at work, I happened upon an article by Robert S. Kaplan titled 'Reaching your Potential' which offered up the teaser, "maybe you feel frustrated with your career--convinced you should be achieving more. You may even wish you had chosen a different career altogether." I was definitely frustrated, and even discouraged, but did I wish I had chosen a different path? Not really. As I reflected on Kaplan's article, I realized that I'm right where I want to be. In sharing this insight with one of my friends, she pointedly asked, "Did you really think that living your dream isn't challenging/discouraging/difficult?" To which I sheepishly replied, "No." The truth is there's a pretty large shred of me which believes that if I'm living my dream, life will breezy.
Dana King recently shared with me an article from St. Louis At Home about The Spirit of St. Louis Women's Fund, a superb model of systergy. As founder Shelby Schagrin explains, women who join this Fund need only commit to two things: 1) Give money -- $1,200 a year for five years, no more, no less; 2) Vote on where the money goes.
I almost missed this. Dana King is my co-blogger at Know Your Neighbor; we talk (virtually) virtually every day. She'd been toying with the idea of blogging for months; Dana has something to say AND she wants to find her voice. Having launched her blog in late August, Dana is now blogging several times a week, and I almost -- almost -- zoomed right past her accomplishment. Until I remembered my rock climbing experience: look up, and down, forward -- and back.