It's a sign

Last week I celebrated Simply Leap's 10th anniversary surrounded by balloons, cupcakes, wine, flowers and some of my favorite smiling faces. I also celebrated with friends and clients all over the world through my Facebook Live anniversary event. [If you missed it, check out the replay here!] 

Thanks to Rinny Patel for her beautiful space and delicious spread at Oak Vino Wine Bar in Beacon, NY, Pat Roza at Forget Me Not cupcakes for the decadent treats I'm still dreaming about (lemon raspberry!), and Emma Flynn for photography, balloons and being the best Simply Leap teammate anyone could ever ask for. 

[Keep reading below...]

The sign

On the morning of the festivities, I sat quietly on the porch contemplating what this 10th anniversary means. Also on the porch was Adelaide the umbrella tree, a gift from my college roommate that has moved with me at least six times over the years. 

Addie almost didn't make it here. Neither, frankly, did Simply Leap. There were moments when one or the other struggled and I wondered how they would pull through. 

One of those for Addie was also ten years ago. In the fall of 2006, I moved to a new apartment in Manhattan with the tree buckled next to me in the front seat of my Mini Cooper. The only street parking I could find was a few blocks away, so I left my things and her in there until after the moving van left.

When I finally brought her inside, the leaves that had been resting against the car window were wilted. Within days they turned brown and fell off. Then more leaves turned brown. Then the entire tree.

I was about to go on vacation, and worried what she would look like when I returned, so I decided to do something drastic. I built up the courage, found a sharp saw, and lopped off all her wilting branches while whispering I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry the whole time. She looked like a three-foot tall stick sitting in a pot. I watered her like crazy, crossed my fingers, and left on my trip. 

When I returned two weeks later, I rushed inside calling Addie's name and squealed at the bright green growth reaching out from the top of her stump.

She found a way through then, and has continued to ever since. Ten years later, she is on the porch, taking in the sun and rain, and letting little spiders build webs in her branches. She's had three new growths just since June, which might be a record for her. 

On the morning I was reminiscing about Simply Leap's anniversary, Addie was showing off her newest addition. A tiny bright green growth close to the spot where the other new growth happened 10 years ago. If a tree has anniversaries, this might be how it looks. 

It felt like a sign. It wasn't the most direct path to get here, but Addie keeps finding new ways to thrive. Simply Leap does too. We've grown with a new team, a new website, and a soon-to-be new book. I announced the name of it during my Facebook Live event so definitely watch and let me know what you think! 

There is more growth to come, for Addie, Simply Leap and you. 

You are here for a reason

If you look around right now, maybe even to the people and things you see every day, there is a sign waiting for you, too.

A sign that you have made it. A sign that you're better than ever. A sign that something more amazing than you can imagine is on the way. 

What is your sign? 

I want to hear about it. Please share in comments below, or in our Life-Lovers and Simply Leaper's community on Facebook. [If you haven't yet, sign up here to receive an invitation to join us.]

It feels like a sign you're reading this today, doesn't it?

Doing it anyway when you're scared

Have you ever been so scared of failing you were frozen in fear?

Me too. More times than I expected would happen.

Earlier this month I launched my new website while feeling scared out of my mind. Well not by the time I hit publish, but there were several moments leading up to it that felt like swimming through mud, tangly weeds gripping my ankles underneath the surface.

Each time I felt that way I would wonder if it was a sign I should stop. Admittedly, I look for the easy path, the choices that feel natural, and most of the time it's helpful. So when this is hard happens I usually run for the exit while looking for reasons why the hard-ness is a sign. Because everything can be a sign, right?

Any number of times in the process of creating the new home for Simply Leap, I thought I should turn back, give up, delay longer, anything but keep going. Most times what got me through my fear to take one-more-incremental-step was telling good friends I was scared. People who know what it's like to try something new and want more than anything to turn back. And others who are Zen masters of focus and drive; it's not that they don't get scared, they just don't stop long enough to consider it. From the former I felt comforted that I wasn't alone, and from the latter I learned I could choose not to look at what could get in my way.

Why I finally hit publish was after listening to Reshma Saujani's TED Talk on teaching girls bravery and not perfection. How some of us as girls were taught to be perfect, to get it right or else, that failure could mean losing respect, love, attention, belonging...instead of what boys were taught to try everything, jump off jungle gyms, see what happens, brush yourself off and go for it all over again.

If I'm trying to get it right all the time, how will I ever really go for it? How will you?

No wonder it felt so hard, I was swimming through get it right or else mud. I was scared to try anything because the stakes were so high if I got it wrong. 

Reshma ended with: "I need each of you to tell every young woman you know to be comfortable with imperfection." Take off the young part, and add a yes, please. 

Another video, this one from Business Insider, being shared lately on social media has a similar message: Spanx CEO Sara Blakey redefining failure as a good thing, and not-trying as the real failure. A lesson she learned from her dad. 

Maybe these, and the good friends you lean on, will keep you Doing It Anyway the next time you'd rather hide in fear. Not knowing if you'll get it right means you could fall or knock it out of the park. Either way you still get the love, respect, belonging from people you trust, including me. Time to jump off a jungle gym!    

What helps you move through fear?

Please comment below or join our living room circle to hear what others are saying!