Christina Brandt

This long post, and the long story in it, was a long time in the making. It started with an interest that turned into a curiosity that turned into a passion.

I’ve always been fascinated with horses. I’m not sure why. I’ve only ridden a horse twice, and both experiences were the typical “put the kid on a half-dead horse who slooooowly walks around in a circle” thing. I read the “Misty of Chincoteague” series of books when I was little and I dreamed of having a horse, but that’s about as far as it ever got.  Horses just weren’t in the cards for me, but there was something about them that always made me sit up and take notice.

Years later (in 2008, to be exact), I found myself in a round pen with master coach Koelle Simpson and a horse. As part of my master coach certification, I was to demonstrate leadership in a very real, very present moment with a 1,000 lb. animal. It didn’t go all that well.

Six weeks later, I found myself in Montana with Koelle and a bunch of friends, and this time the ante was upped, as I was supposed to single-handedly get 10 loose horses in a large arena to follow me. Yeah, right. (I wrote about that experience here.)

And six weeks after that, I’m helping Koelle with a workshop, acting as the “coach on the side,” helping participants deal with the many thoughts that come up when they’re faced with the experience of using their leadership skills with a horse for the first time. Then we hit Texas, and then Virginia in 2009, where we met Erika Isler, who wrote this about her experience.

What didn’t make it into the article, though, was what happened for me on the last day of that Virginia workshop. With time left over, my friend Boyd and I tried a herding exercise we’d bungled a bit in Montana a year before. There are no photos of the best parts, so I’ll just say that we summoned up our leadership mojo and had those horses dancin’! They did figure eights around barrels, twice. Not bad for a girl who, during her first experience, couldn’t summon up enough oomph to invite her horse to just take a walk. (That’s the two of us, high-fivin’ in a photo taken by our friend Kelly Eide.)

Now, with five equine workshops under my belt, I’m totally hooked on horses. I want to learn everything I can about them, and I’ve started by taking Koelle’s Equus Coach training program.  Last weekend, I was at a ranch in AZ, learning how to take a horse’s temperature (and it ain’t by placing a thermometer under his tongue!), weigh him, take his pulse, and determine his age, too.  I’m contacting stables and will soon be mucking out stalls and observing horses at play, and taking classes about things like the equine digestive tract.

Eventually, I’ll be coaching people through “join-ups” and other activities designed to help people summon and channel their leadership energy and learn the importance of non-verbal communication in a very cool way.

A dream come true. It only took about 40 years, but it’s happening. And that’s the important thing. My passion for horses wasn’t nourished for a long time but now that I’m focused, it’s the best feeling ever.  I’m not sure exactly how this will all play out but I’m having too much fun to question it or to stop.

What’s your passion? What lit you up when you were eight years old? Despite the fact that we outgrow a lot of things, it never hurts to go back and look at who we were then. Amazingly, a lot of things about us stay pretty consistent, like my love of cowboy boots and horses, and my passion for helping others.  Think about what got you excited then, and what excites you now.  Then, even if it’s scary or crazy, find a way to articulate that feeling to someone you trust.  It’s funny, the things that happen when you start to air those passions…

If it takes you 40 years to re-ignite your dream, so what!  If I can do it, so can you.

February had a lot of us thinking about love. Some of it was that “hearts and flowers” stuff, prompted by the serious marketing of card and candy manufacturers. I’m not talking about romance, though. I’m talking about the love that happens in relationships – grown-up, real relationships.

Starting with the relationship you have with yourself.
Because of my years in HR, I’m really good at sizing people up quickly. I can spot a phony a mile away, and one of the easiest phonies to spot is the person who’s faking self-love. You know, the person who’s trying to convince you to like them while they’re really not liking themselves very much. It’s that graspy, clingy sort of vibe that comes off a person. I don’t know about you, but that vibe doesn’t attract me; it repels me.

If you’re not in love with yourself, others won’t be, either.
I’m not talking about obnoxious, conceited, “I’m the best damned thing that’s happened to this planet” stuff. Ego doesn’t help here. I’m talkin’ about BEING love.

Yes, you heard me. BE love.
First, treat yourself well. You can take bubble baths and long walks in the woods, if that’s your thing. But I’m talking about self-respect. About honoring your Self. About being clear about what you need and want, and about what feels good and what doesn’t. Knowing for sure, just in this moment, what feels right to your body, heart and soul.

Then, be love. In every situation, think about how you can create it – how you can show it, not seek it. What it would feel like to do the most love-filled and compassionate thing in that moment.

Why does this matter?
Whether you’re looking for a new job or a mate, starting a business or trying to figure out what’s next in your life, a sure-fire way to move the process along is to listen to your heart. That thumping organ inside your chest is a sophisticated instrument with more “pull” than we previously knew. Turns out that the heart sends more info to the brain than the brain does to the heart.

I could get all scientific on you here, but I’d make an idiot of myself. Neurocardiology is a pretty cool field and the folks at Heart Math are doing lots of research about heart coherence. Check them out if you need data to support what I’m saying, and I’ll stick to talking about what my gut knows: when we move through the world as loving beings, when we’re clear and honest and filled with love and appreciation in our hearts, we’re awfully compelling. When we’re fearful and negative, worried or combative, we’re not.

Pretty simple. You decide.
Here’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it: Love always wins.

You may recall that I’ve decided my 2011 Word of the Year is “Peace.” Each month, I’m focusing on one aspect of the Life Wheel (see my home page for a free download), diving deeply into the topic at hand to learn more, then apply what I learn to create more peace in my life and the lives of others. January’s focus was on finances.

I asked a lot of questions, and I stirred up some stuff.
In my Peaceful Finances teleclass, I asked particpants to tell me about their money philosophy. Their answers ranged from “I love money and money loves me” to “There’s never enough.” Not surprising. What was surprising for participants, though, was the fact that every one of them admitted they’d never thought about how they’d learned about money. When they thought about the responses to the questions below, a lot of light bulbs went off.

What money messages did you receive?
What did your mom tell you about money? How did your dad feel about money? Can you recall your first memory of money? What do you believe about people who have money? What did money cause to happen (or not happen) in your family?

What do you believe about money now?
I work with clients across the financial spectrum – what we’d call “rich,” and what we’d call “poor” – and the beliefs they’ve got about money might surprise you. Wealthy or not, most of my clients’ relationship with money is one of fear. I think they’re a good representation of what’s going on in the minds of most Americans. Our advertising culture often encourages fear (of not measuring up, of not fitting in, etc.) in order to create consumption.

If we view things through a “lens” of scarcity, everything we think, say or do is about overcoming a sense of lack.
Lynne Twist, author of The Soul of Money, talks about the “myths of scarcity,” and asks us to notice how often our language reflects lack – “I didn’t get enough sleep,” “there aren’t enough hours in the day,” etc. If you’re focused on lack, you’re likely to experience more of it, drawing it toward yourself in a myriad of ways.

How’s that workin’ for you? Not so much? Then create the habit of respecting money.
You may think you respect money now, but if you’re feeling anything other than peaceful about it, there’s more work to be done. In her book, Overcoming Underearning ™, Barbara Stanny suggests these actions:

• observe your attitudes, beliefs, thoughts and feelings and choices about money
• determine what you need to let go of
• to educate yourself, read something about money
• be direct and ask for what you want
• spend less than you earn
• write down your intentions about money
• set up a debt repayment plan
• get clarity by writing down everything you spend
• write about money in your journal
• find a financial advisor
• get an accountability buddy and be honest with them about your spending and saving
• act as if you’re worth it (deserving of money)
• think bigger
• assemble a support community
• stop using credit cards and pay for everything with cash for one week, one month, or one year

There are probably loads more that we could come up with, but I think you get the idea. Like any desired positive change, the first step toward peaceful finances is awareness, then honesty about your current situation, followed by small steps taken regularly to create new habits.

If you’d like to join in the conversation about peaceful finances, hop onto the Peace by Design Facebook page and click on Discussions. I’d love to hear from you!

A few days ago, my mother celebrated the 55th anniversary of her arrival here in the U.S.  As did so many others, she left Europe to find a better life for herself   At the age of 19, unable to speak English and with no money to speak of, she arrived by ship in New York Harbor.

She has no memory of the Statue of Liberty because the ship arrived at night in heavy fog, but she does remember leaning on the ship’s rail, wondering what all the twinkly lights were.   The next morning, she couldn’t get over the New York skyline, the height and sheer number of the skyscrapers, and the fact that everyone in America seemed to drive a yellow car (she’d never seen taxis before).

An aunt and uncle took her in, helped her find some new clothes, and helped her find a waitressing job.  Learning English from her customers in the diner and by watching television, she slowly saved her money and built her new life.

For all the remaining years of their lives, my mother helped that aunt and uncle by buying and delivering groceries, cleaning their home when they couldn’t do it any longer, finding caretakers to look after them…whatever  was needed.  They’d given her a chance at a new start in life, and she was determined to repay that kindness in any way she could.

When I remember that story, told to me many times over the years, I think of the lessons in there for me:

• If I’m feeling sorry for myself, thinking it’s too hard, too scary, or too big a dream, I just remember Mom at 19.
• If I can find a way to give someone a leg up and help them find their way, I’m going to do it.
• If there’s a way to thank the people who came before and paved the way to make my life easier, I will do it.

Thanks, Mom.  I’m glad you dreamt big.

During the Martha Beck life coach training process, coach “cadets” are told that they should “be willing to suck at it,” the premise being that the only way to get better at something is to start, screw up, stand up, do it again, and keep learning from your mistakes.

My fellow master coach, Meadow DeVor, has written a great post about what she’s learned from her mistakes.  10 Things I’ve Learned by @#$%ing Up is a helluva read – rock on, Meadow!

I’m notoriously bad when it comes to cooking starches.  I find it really hard to believe that rice will increase in size so much that the little bit I put into the water will be enough to feed me.  Same goes for pasta.  I’m constantly throwing in “just a little bit more to be safe” and then ending up with a huge bowl of the stuff once it’s cooked.

Last night, during the Peaceful Finances teleclass, I was telling the group about one of Lynne Twist’s Toxic Myths of Scarcity:  More is better.  If we believe this myth, we run around accumulating more than we’ll ever need – more shoes, bags, paper, books, money, etc.  We’re driven by consumption and greed, not stopping to enjoy what we already have.

And then we’re complaining about the clutter in our lives, unable to find peace.  When we remove the stuff, or better yet, stop bringing in anything we don’t absolutely need, we feel better.

It’s sometimes hard, though, to trust that there will be enough.  That little bit of rice will really make enough to feed me?  That pasta’s going to fill my belly?  Not working in a corporate environment with a steady paycheck and benefits is still going to allow me to have a good life?

If you’re afraid to change from the “more is better” mindset, start slowly.  Instead of half a box of pasta, toss in a third.  You’ll still have leftovers, but less than you did before.   Then, think of another area in which you could do with just a little less and see how it feels.

For me, beginning to trust that there will always be enough has been an ongoing journey.  I’m willing to keep “less-ifying” because it feels freer than being overstuffed – with food, with things, and with weight. “Less is more” feels a lot more peaceful to me than “More is better,” so I’m gonna keep going.

Maybe someday soon there won’t be any leftovers when I cook pasta.

I’m happy to have been included in an article called “Taking the First Step: Overcoming Excuses to Get Where You Want to Be” in Healthy Life CT magazine.

Check it out by clicking here!

I’ve been on another clearing jag, probably the result of the programs I’ve been teaching about living spaces.  I want my home to accurately reflect my essential self, to be clutter-free, and to be filled only with what I truly love, need and use.

That’s how I stumbled upon a ruler I’ve had since the third grade.  Yup, that upside-down peace sign you see here was written by yours truly at age 7, along with the following: “NO using for anyone but me!!!!!!”  I was a bossy little kid who apparently didn’t want to share.  Thankfully, I’m (mostly) a lot less bossy now, but I kept the ruler to remind myself not to go there.

I’m still obsessed with the peace sign, though I haven’t give much thought to why.  Back then, I cut one out of felt and sewed it, by hand, onto my fringed felt drawsting handbag.  (It went really well with the striped bell bottoms and fringed vest.)  But I sewed it on upside down, so the inside of the circle looked like a “Y.”  I’ve tossed old notebooks and photos, and that upside-down peace sign appears in a lot of places.  What the heck?  Why didn’t anyone tell me I was doing it wrong?  I was telling my friend, Tex Ann, about this and she said

She’s onto something!  I’m certainly not the first person to believe that world peace begins within each of us, but you don’t often hear coaches refer to themselves as peacemakers.  Yet giving people the tools to create peace in their lives and careers is at the core of everything I do.

Everything – our relationships, careers, homes, spirituality, etc. – is affected by our peaceful energy, or lack thereof.  Where in your life are you feeling anything less than peace?  Use the Life Wheel tool (download it free from my home page) to see where your satisfaction could be higher.  Consider using the results to help you create some 2011 goals – think of a few small steps you can take to up the joy, and peace, in your life.

Think about it:  if everyone took a few steps to create more peace in their own world, we’d collectively create a hell of a leap for mankind.  And, it’d make “world peace” more than a casually-stated throwaway line used in comedies about beauty pageants.

As for me, I’m making it my Word of The Year (unless, of course, I come up with two or three, as I did in 2010).  I’m setting the intention that I will ask myself “How does this bring me or others peace?” in every situation.  If there’s no peace to be found there, I will set it aside, and I will help my clients do the same.   I wish you a peace-full 2011.

How many of you out there say to yourselves, as you’re driving up to a red light “It’s time to apply pressure with my right foot to the pedal that’s next to the gas pedal.” Probably none of you, unless you’re a brand new driver, in which case we thank you for being so deliberate about knowing where the pedals are and using them correctly!

The conscious competence theory is another name for the “Four Stages of Learning,” a theory posited by 1940′s psychologist Abraham Maslow. The Four Stages of Learning are an explanation of how people learn something, progressing from

1. Unconscious Incompetence – you don’t know that you don’t know something, to
2. Conscious Incompetence – you are now aware that you are incompetent at something, to
3. Conscious Competence – you develop a skill in that area but have to deliberately think about it in order for it to happen, to the final stage:
4. Unconscious Competence – you are good at it and it now comes naturally.

I’d say that most of us can claim to be in each of these stages, depending on the task/skill in question.  I’m clueless about plenty, certain that I’m incompetent at lots of stuff, and I’m aware that I need to be deliberate about certain things.  That covers off on Stages 1 – 3.

What about Stage 4, though?  I know I don’t spend much time thinking about what I know so well that it doesn’t require thought.  Maybe it’s time to step back and be grateful for all the things we do so well that they’re second nature to us:  driving, typing without looking at the keys, sewing, making a pie crust, helping others become their best selves…the list for each of us is likely to be very long.

When we become grateful for what we already know, we’re likely to cut ourselves a bit o’ slack and loosen the “I’m a loser who can’t do anything” mindset.  And that, my friends, is always a good thing.

At what are you Unconsciously Competent?

“You’re such a Quick Start!”

For those of you who haven’t heard of the Kolbe A Index, this is a reference to Kathy Kolbe’s inventory of conative (or action) styles.  A fellow Kolbe afficionado lobbed this comment my way after I indicated I was unable to stick with a project I’d discussed with her.

Another friend was describing her husband as “a total J,” a reference to the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator, a personality inventory that both of us use in our work.

While I’m a big fan of both these inventories and I believe they’re very helpful in providing insights to why we act, feel and prefer the things we do, I get nervous when we start labeling people in a way that precludes any further exploration.

It’s pretty natural to categorize our experiences.  Every day we – consciously or unconsciously – label others:  fat/skinny, smart/dumb, shy/extroverted, efficient/inefficent, etc.  It’s a way for our brains to make sense of, and classify, all the information coming our way.

What worries me, though, is when we lean (rely) too hard on one or two labels to define our experience of others.  It got me thinking of how many ways someone could label me:

• female
• blonde (more noticeable after a trip to the hairdresser!)
• Nissan owner
• smart
• funny
• creative
• ENFP
• Quick Start
• CT resident
• head of household
• college-educated
• tall
• travel lover
• Caucasian
• coach
• daughter
• former HR exec
• childless
• of German ancestry
• born in NY…there are tons more.

Taken as a whole package, those labels do help define me, but if you (or I) saw me only as a blonde, or an ENFP, or whatever, you start to lose the nuances that make me, well, me.

How often are we relying on too few labels, or are we too quick to try and define our experience of others?  Let’s promise ourselves to dig deeper and learn more about another person before writing them off or categorizing them in a way that diminishes their value in our eyes.

And, please, let’s start with ourselves.  How are you “self-labeling?”  How are those labels limiting the way you define yourself or describe yourself to others?  I’d love to hear your thoughts on this.