Circulating

Razor-cutting layoffs. Breaking contracts. Combining offices. Consolidating businesses. Declining earnings. Foreclosing mortgages.


The headlines give me headaches.


My day job puts me in the epicenter of the swirl of the financial world. News spinning around the globe has the potential to put me into a downward spiral and true blue funk by dinnertime.


We’re all affected by these events in one way or another. Can’t escape them. No where to hide. The trickle-down effect has monumental implications. One person’s job loss means one neighborhood foreclosure and all of a sudden, your home, thousands of miles away, is devalued. Or the goods and services that you lovingly present to the world have become, on a dime, completely devalued. Practically worthless in our global economy. Your bottom line is now in sight as never before and you, too, question the validity of your livelihood, your prospects for career survival and your long-term outlook for your chosen profession. For just when we thought it was safe to go outside again, we see darkness lurking in every corner. Even attorneys, who reside in one of the very few professions that have always been thought to be recession-proof, are suddenly witnessing massive layoffs and office closings. (See today’s feature article in the Wall Street Journal).


But take heart. There’s always reinvention.


I love the whole concept of reinvention. In fact, I’m not quite sure it’s really fair to call it that. I view it more as “continually striving to become the person who God designed you to become.” Moving toward the Promise Land of flowing milk and honey. Eventually finding and doing that for which you were created. Spending years in jobs and homes and physical locations as training grounds for that which you were really made for. Being placed in circumstances with people who you might find wonderful or irritating as a way to build character. Performing repetitive acts day in and day out not as the fatal end of a life spend in torture, but as preparation for the glorious work you are supposed to be doing as you mature toward your ultimate destiny.


People accuse me of constantly reinventing myself. And I’m always simultaneously amused and flattered by it. Because they mean well. But I view reinvention as a way of continually working on myself. Always stretching. Enduring growing pains along the way which cause me enough discomfort to figure out how best to move forward. How to finally bask in the light of what I was put on earth to do.


One of the best ways to reinvent yourself—to grow into your completed self—is by throwing yourself out there. Fully. Circulating. Of putting yourself in unfamiliar surroundings, talking to unfamiliar people about unfamiliar things. And then walking away, perhaps scratching your head, wondering “What in the heck was that all about?” Last week I allowed myself a one-hour weekday lunch-hour visit to a Jin Shin Jyutsu practitioner for a complimentary treatment. The practitioner is a member of my BNI group, and she offers all members a complimentary one- hour visit. Having no earthly idea what to expect, me being a practicing, very Western Christian with little exposure to Eastern traditions, I was hesitant. Not overly excited about the prospect. Slightly unnerved by it actually. Totally out of my comfort zone. It turned out to be a wonderfully relaxing experience which was honestly exactly what I needed to reduce my level of toxic stress which had been building up in my body over these last, what, eighteen months?


Most people I talk with these days are in dire need of reinvention. Out of work with no idea where to run or how to move forward, they have little comprehension of the why and the how of getting out there moving again. Of circulating among the living. Of going to parties or of actually throwing one of their own. Of accepting luncheon invitations or meeting a friend for morning coffee. Of asking “who do you know?” to mere acquaintances.


I’ve always enjoyed inviting perfect strangers to dinner. Or someone “dangerous” to tea. It’s simultaneously invigorating and wildly uncomfortable. Living in the uncomfortable zone is a whole lot more threatening than playing all the time in the safety zone. Or, as they say: “If you’re not living on the edge, you’re taking up too much space.”


Please take a peek at a few of the events in which I’m participating in these next couple of weeks. If you need to reinvent yourself or you just need to get out and meet some new and interesting people, I invite you to circulate with me. Circulating is invigorating. Energizing. It leaves one feeling wildly and optimistically expectant and open to all that one’s mind can imagine and believe.


I hope to bump into you soon!


Blessings,


Carolina