Fact: I am a trained life coach.
Fact: Before embarking on this career, I had no intention of becoming a life coach.
Fact: I also had no idea what or whom a life coach was.
Why am I telling you this?
Well, you might have found this post right here because you’re my friend, or you’ve heard me speak, or you know my mom, (or you are my mom – hi mom!) or you found yourself here looking for something else.
(I don’t mind telling you — a lot of searches get here looking for Mary Poppins and Snickers candy bars of which I’m neither. I don’t even like Snickers, but that’s not important right now.)
You might click around and read more because you like reading blogs and you’ve connected with something I’ve written, and then you might get curious about why a person like you might hire a person like me. Except you have ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA what a person like me does and why in the world you might pay me money to do what I do, because you don’t exactly know what I do.
Fact: Coaching is not easy to explain but is very easy to experience.
I could tell you what it feels like to walk from the sand into the ocean in Hawaii. I could describe the process of lazily reviewing a map, or driving along the coast to choose the exact right beach, then rushing towards the water, squishing the sand so soft you could practically bake a cake with it between my toes, the hesitation before the tide rushes forward then the moment I am aware of its warmth and the gentle ebb and flow of it, and how immediately, I am present and relaxed. I could tell you all of this, but your experience of Hawaii and mine might be completely different and the only way to really know how it feels is to feel it for yourself. It’s the experience, not the description, that will last in your memory.
Most, if not all, coaches will provide you with a complimentary session or consultation to talk about how you might work together towards your specific goals. We love doing this. Talk to a coach and find out more – or since you’re here, talk to me!
Coaching is not one-size-fits-all. It is unique and personal. Like ice cream and dogs, coaches come in all flavors and breeds. Some specialize in a certain field or niche like weight loss or body image or fertility or recovery or leadership or wellness or career change or relationships or money, some work with people who are also executives, teens, LGBQT, entrepreneurs and/or mothers.
We dwell in possibility – sometimes. We also point out things that may not be obvious to you or things that are. We dig deep. We celebrate. We challenge and support you. We want you to have what you want.
Why would you do this?
Regularly meeting with a coach leads to positive changes in a limited time frame.
Have you seen this yet?
Motherhood has been captured.
(Thanks to Jena Strong for posting and sharing!)
I learned today that a friend and colleague had passed away. As happens with such news, I am caught between extreme emotions, surprised and saddened.
I had expected (selfishly, I realize now) that whenever I had news to share, he would be there to receive it, always quick to send back a note of encouragement and support. He was a mentor in that way, seeing me as more than I saw myself, reaching out to broaden my network, extending my reach through his, making connections and keeping me present in his thoughts, seeing opportunities where I didn’t know to look.
I searched to find our last e-mail exchange, one in which I had shared with him my latest Big Plans. Again, I’d looked to him for guidance to which he — of course — responded with a resounding, “YES!”
I am devastated.
I cannot imagine my impact on him was remotely as significant as his on me, nor can I imagine making sense of this loss. I cannot turn back time to share with him how much I valued and respected him, how much his encouragement grounded me and gave me the confidence to go beyond my known limits.
I will forever remember his smile and always hear the kindness, warmth and laughter in his voice. I will remember his sunny outlook, his humor, and his generosity of time and spirit. As years pass, I might vaguely remember a deal or two that we negotiated together, but will never lose the vision of him standing at the side of a road in the worst storm I’d ever seen, singing and dancing in the rain, waiting it out to make the day a little easier for somebody else. He was selfless like that — loyal, a guy you’d go to with a big secret, a tiny victory or a broken heart — always available, always keeping your trust.
I miss him, and didn’t even know he was gone.
In honor of my friend and colleague, I am sharing some of his words. Yes, they are words that he wrote about me as a professional recommendation, but they are also words that gave me a boost when I really needed to believe in myself and words that gave me strength, knowing that I had been seen and would be seen again. He was a gift.
I cannot think of a more personal and fitting tribute than to keep reaching beyond what I know to do my best work in the world. Because wondering is what I often do, I am struck by the possibilities we each might create if we set forth, determined, to connect with one person we admire, respect, love or lean upon to own up and tell them that they have made a difference.
I am pleased to provide you with a reference for Karen Pery. Karen was hired during a particularly frenetic growth period and was charged with getting her head and her hands around [her work]. Karen came in, smiled her way into our organization and quickly learned all that she could about the history of and the complicated relationships within [the organization]. She then worked to develop systems and processes that would standardize and regulate this very key element of our business and made recommendations to assist with our growth and development as well as to reduce the risk of exposure that existed.
I found her to be organized, articulate, tenacious, dependable, and committed. During some of our most intense moments, Karen was steady and maintained her positive focus and her smile. I recall her as a “what do we need to do to make this work” kind of person and I quickly learned that her loving smile and sweet disposition should not be confused with weakness, passivity, or a lack of assertiveness. She is a strong, powerful woman who will do whatever it takes to get the job done and who will find a way to communicate what needs to be communicated no matter how difficult the content may be.
Rest in peace, my friend. May your memory be for a blessing.
Welcome to Motherhood Reinvented @ karenpery.com! Please stay for a bit, get comfortable, take a look around.
If I could offer you a drink while you’re here — decaf nonfat vanilla latte, tea, glass of champagne, room temperature filtered water (with or without a slice of lemon) — know that I would.
I used to write a blog called “I Invented Motherhood” in which I’d transitioned and transformed from worried and wondering how I’d BE a mother to having the confidence and insight to support and comfort others along their path. Returning to work spawned “Motherhood Reinvented” as a place and practice where I help mothers (and others) to figure out who they want to be when their kids grow up.
(Does this sound like you? Let’s talk!)
I work with individuals and organizations to actively engage people in their personal and professional lives. I am passionately committed to the idea that anything is possible.
I hope you’ll join my mailing list for updates on this site and become a fan of Motherhood Reinvented on Facebook. I can personally be found on Facebook, sometimes at Linked In and very occasionally rarely on Twitter. If you stop by, please introduce yourself and let’s connect.
Thank you for being here, and for being you!
When I am doing my best work in the world, I am a bit like Disney’s Mary Poppins.
Taking charge, subtly dispensing magic, finding value in the smallest things, always kind and gentle, armed with a limitless bag of resources that may come in handy, and (without attachment to any specific ideal of perfectionism or forgetting my delightful flaws and quirks), “practically perfect in every way.”
I am here writing and you are here reading, because the wind has, in its own peculiar way, blown us together. Since you’re here (and I’m so glad you are), let’s establish a few things:
1) as it is the day of New Year’s Eve, I know I’m neither the first nor the last who is:
a) reflecting back on 2009,
b) thinking about what’s going to be good/better/different about 2010,
c) thinking about what did and didn’t work for me in 2009 (personally, professionally, spiritually),
d) giving advice/tools/inspiration on the process and discovery of goals and dreams; and,
e) wishing you a year, a decade, a lifetime, of having your dreams come true.
2) since you are here, indulge me, won’t you?
Take a long, slow, deep breath.
Close your eyes for a moment.
What do you notice about right now?
Close them again. What else do you notice?
Close them again, and imagine where you’ll be on December 31, 2010.
What will your life be like? Where do you live? How have you spent your year? What made you happy? What made you sad? Imagine that 2010 was the year that everything you wanted, you found.
What did you want?
What did you find?
Who have you become?
What do you have in your life that you had been missing?
What now that you have everything you want, when you close your eyes and imagine, what do you feel?
How have you changed?
What is possible for you now that you have changed?
It’s your life. Live it.
Engage in it. Enjoy it.
Accept it and change it.
Be you.
I wish you love and joy and a year filled with the same!
Resources & Inspiration
What Matters Now (Seth Godin)
Completion Ritual for 2009 (Andrea Scher)
How to Create Your Personal Manifesto (Gwen Bell)
10 Questions for Spectacular Direction (Carrie Kish)
The Essential Zen Habits of 2009
Beautiful Flower (India.Arie)
Home (Jack Johnson)
Elizabeth Gilbert on Nurturing Creativity (TED Talks)
what’s on your stop doing list? (Danielle LaPorte)
One formidable task nagged at me from my to-do list: restore order.
(Restore order wasn’t a metaphor, though confirm Joy is on my list again — I really do need to call to my pet sitter!)
Restoring order was a stated intention designed to address the status of our home, my office, the piles of gift wrap, the un-hung jackets, birthday cards (thanks so much!), party favors, school projects and reminders, receipts, the symbols and detritus of my family’s life in motion December.
Okay, let’s call it what it is: clutter.
But still, having been away for a long weekend and returning home to an empty refrigerator and full schedules, I felt ready to assume collecting the pieces of our life and putting them somewhere more specific and appropriate. (You know: cleaning.)
Anyway, with all the wheels spinning, items were getting checked off the list in rapid succession. And then, my little girl woke up, complaining of a sore neck and a headache.
SCREEEEEECH!
The wheels came to a grinding halt.
All the best laid plans, right?
The voice I know as my intuition spoke directly in my mind: what’s most important right now?
Right now. Not when the list was written, not thinking about my plans and commitments, how I’d need to juggle my schedule, not of what might happen to her holiday show or weekend plans. Right NOW!
I did what moms do, I stopped everything to figure out what she needed, how we’d manage her day, how she felt RIGHT NOW and improvised along the way. (And I did it all remotely, too.)
When her status changed, as statuses are known to do, we continued to go on adjusting our plans.
The day didn’t end the way I thought it would, the dishes still lingered in the sink and the toys remained scattered. And yet, the day also ended as I expected it would, everyone sleeping soundly in their beds, and that is how most of our days end — not all, but most.
Some order was maintained, if not restored.
* * *
Things change constantly.
One moment is never the next.
What’s it feel like to be where you are right now?
And now?
What about now?
You are here.
Breathe.
Image via flickr: freeparking (Creative Commons Attribution)
This is a five minute post about running.
Why?
Because who has time, right?
I decided about a week ago that I want to run a marathon.
I didn’t think of myself as a runner, not really, or at least I wasn’t before. But now I am. I am a runner because I run.
Aside from the feet and shoes (see above), I’m using two things to help me on my journeys: Runkeeper and the Cool Running Couch to5K program.
Why am I running now?
- because I can
- because I want to
- because running a marathon is a metaphor
- because my two legs work just fine, thank you very much
- because it is freeing
- because sweat is sexy
- because being active is important to me
- because setting an example of being active to my children is important to me
- because it makes me feel younger
- it’s about commitment
- I get to listen to my music
- I can do it anywhere
- it doesn’t take a lot of equipment
- because if I want to do something, I should at least try and forget all of the reasons why I haven’t done this before.
What do you want to do, just for you? What do you need to do it? What can I help you create?
It’s Thanksgiving and I am reminded of some thoughts I shared a few years ago. I had just gone back to work a month before, my oldest child had just started Kindergarten and my baby girl had just started preschool. It was a thoughtful time, a busy time, and a time in which I had become immersed in an entirely new but familiar world in which I spent my days working in service of homeless and mentally ill adults.
Simply put, my ideas about gratitude changed. I changed.
I am still changing and I am thankful.
For whatever you have, where ever you find yourself today – emotionally, physically or geographically, I hope you will take a moment to pause and give and receive thanks, too.
* * *
I drove by a church on the way to my son’s school one morning about a week after the Thanksgiving holiday. Flashing in bold red letters on the sign out front was a statement: “Give Thanks Every Day.”
Thanks are not just for Thanksgiving — not only when you remember, not when it’s expected, nor only when it’s convenient.
I read it as a directive.
Give thanks every day.
A few hours later, I was reminded again. In conversation with a co-worker about the long weekend, how we spent our time, what we enjoyed, what we ate, he shared, “I’m just blessed. Every day is Thanksgiving for me.”
Without knowing the specific circumstances of this man’s life, I know that his employment in our office was a transition to help him get back on his feet from a place I can’t imagine.
I was humbled.
Grateful.
Give thanks every day.
A few years ago when my oldest was in preschool, as an introduction to the holiday his teachers asked for what he was thankful. Thoughtful as always, perhaps recalling that his mommy had not allocated time or groceries to put together a proper lunch that morning and at the last minute purchased his lunch from the school, he gave thanks for Macaroni & Cheese.
In her first preschool class, my darling girl shared that she was most thankful for giraffes. If pressed, she’d have told you that actually she’s thankful for giraffes, zebras, lions and bears. And tigers. But mostly giraffes.
Upon the wall outside my son’s Kindergarten class were drawings the children had made in honor of the holiday. Here is the one my boy made:
You may note that the prominent figure at the left of the page is his representation of me – pretty close on the hair, don’t you think? I believe that Daddy is to the right, and the figures below might be my son, my daughter and the dog, but I’m not sure which is which.
Take that Mac & Cheese!
* * *
I am thankful that my little girl has the luxury to be thankful for zoo animals, that she does not wish for food on the table or a roof over her head.
I am thankful that my boy has grown from appreciating lunch to knowing the importance of love; more than toys, games, amusement parks, or a new bike, he chose to express his gratitude for that which I, too, hold most dear – our family.
I am thankful for my husband, my hero, who humors my whims, offers unfailing support of my dreams, and after all these years together, still makes me feel the same as when I fell in love with him.
I am thankful for our families and friends who shower our children with their time and affection.
I am thankful for the schools we’ve entrusted to educate our children. I am pleasantly reminded, more often than I’d even ask, of what great choices we’ve made.
I am thankful for our health, our home, and for all the love, light and laughter in our lives.
And yes, sometimes I am also thankful for macaroni and cheese.
Giraffes, too.
Adapted from a post written at I Invented Motherhood in November 2007.
I am volunteering at a training this weekend, and we’re focused on conscious choices. As the holiday season is beginning to unravel, I am reminded that celebrations are what you make of them. You might choose to be overwhelmed, an outsider, focused on pleasing everyone else, missing out, or worried about spending or eating or connecting. You might also choose to make new traditions, to be present, to find joy in the simple things, to give from the heart, or to take care of yourself first. You see? Each one is a choice, filled with it’s own possibilities, it’s own frame of reference. You can choose the lens through which you see the world. You can change the lens at any time. It’s all your choice.
I’ve been trying on a new perspective for a few days, and what it means to me won’t be what it means to you, but I’m looking at my life through the champagne perspective and today, even though I am away, I am celebrating. It’s my mom’s birthday!
If you asked me to describe my mom, I would tell you she is creative, artistic, an amazing gardener, an involved and curious cook, a student, a traveler, and a good friend. She is also one terrific Nana! She is open minded, open hearted and gracious, even when she thinks she is not.
Growing up, I don’t know that I knew her. But a few short stories from my early years can tell you about the kind of person she is.
1. It was the summer of 1983 when braces were installed on my teeth. The next day (at least that’s how I remember it), my mom took me to see a matinee performance of Woman of the Year at the Ahmanson theatre in Los Angeles, starring Lauren Bacall who had won the Tony for her performance of the role on Broadway. We dressed in fancy dresses (at least I did), and had lunch out before the show, just the two of us. We sat in the orchestra section and she even bought me the soundtrack which we would listen to all the time in her car. (I’d only learn years later how much she hates musical theater!) I felt like a grown up and a lady.
2. We took another trip to downtown Los Angeles, this time to the jewelry mart, the day after my high school boyfriend left for college. I remember our quick trip to the ATM practically as the sun came up to avoid the Los Angeles traffic, and the pearl studs I bought for $40 (I still wear them). We didn’t talk about how I’d miss him, how I’d manage without him, how he might be my first love but not my last or what it meant to be so serious about a boy at such a tender young age. We just walked and shopped.
3. I’ll never forget the image of my mom, jumping and waving her arms in the sea of thousands of parents in Pauley Pavilion at UCLA’s College of Letters & Sciences commencement ceremony. From a distance, I could see her smiling through tears of joy.
Everything I needed to know I learned from my mom. She showed me the wisdom and value of not buying retail (remember the jewelry mart?). “Why would you buy this here when you can find the exact thing somewhere else for a fraction of the cost?” For every special occasion, I had a new dress (though those were NEVER from the discount racks). She taught me not only the basics of cooking, but also the love of good food. I certainly did not inherit any DNA of her green thumb, but I can still correctly identify many plants from our walks through her garden and I am passionate about seasonal produce as a result of her tutelage.
She has let me make my own mistakes and encouraged my worthwhile pursuits. Though my mom probably wouldn’t have joined National Charity League on her own, we shared a common love of philanthropy and participating in the community – she spent her hours improving the organization of the thrift store while I was a stable hand at the therapeutic riding center. Together, we delivered Meals on Wheels. As much as I’ve learned from her, I’m also proud of the things she has learned from me – like when we were both taking pre-calculus and tutoring, and she told her students what I’d told her when solving problems – just use the whole page!
I still have the note she left for me on the day I lost the election for student body president — praising my courage for running against the most popular girl in school, a card she sent me my freshman year at college –reminding me to always be myself, and an e-mail she sent when I was working at a facility helping homeless and mentally ill adults, amazed at my ability to keep a clear head. I learned how much it meant to her to be a grandmother the moment she insisted on being at the hospital for the birth of my first child, even though I had selfishly insisted I wanted no one there. She and my dad spent years driving thousands of miles to visit my children with the purpose of giving me time to myself, always bringing snacks and treats, games and adventures that have my babies rushing to see what’s in Nana’s bag.
We’re probably more different than we are alike, but I wouldn’t have picked anyone else to be my mother, even if I could.
Happy birthday, Mom. I love you.
Adapted from an original posted at I Invented Motherhood
Friends, Family and Fans!
Last week, I logged into my Facebook account, I found that I had reached a milestone of my first 100 fans (technically 103, but since I’m one of them and my husband is another…) all I can say is, “wow!”
Thank you so very much. I am deeply touched. It means the world to me to be connected to you, to have your support, and to share information and resources that improve people’s lives.
To mark this occasion, I’m giving something away. It’s just for you, and I hope you’ll like it.
* * *
I recently welcomed a group of mothers to my home for a pilot workshop/mom’s night out/more than a happy hour/not quite a game night event. Since my home cannot accommodate all of my friends, family, readers and fans at once, I’m going to re-create it here for you to enjoy at your leisure in the comfort of your own homes.
Welcome. Please relax, have fun, be comfortable, share, and most importantly, be YOURSELF.
As you know, in my practice, I work with mothers in transition — some are returning to work after staying at home raising their children, others are working to return to themselves. Going through the transitions I did when I was having children – leaving my career, becoming a mother, learning how to be a stay at home mom, returning to work, becoming a working mom — I found myself stuck in places that weren’t comfortable or easy. I knew that if it was this hard for me, I couldn’t be the only one so I created Motherhood Reinvented.
A few years ago, I had an afternoon without my kids and nothing really to do. On the outside, you might think this would be idyllic, blissful even, but for me, on that day, I was overwhelmed. It wasn’t that I had too many choices, I found myself wandering around the mall wondering what to do with myself, feeling like I had no choices at all. I had become so immersed in my children, their lives, their care, their circle of friends and needs…I had no idea of who I was. I knew that I wanted very much for my children to know me as an individual. I figured, if they knew that I had hopes and dreams of my own, they would have the confidence to find their own.
I wrote about this for my MOMS club and on my blog, and found comfort in the fact that I was able to articulate my own interests and hobbies. And yet, I also noticed that if you asked me about myself, I could tell you about the places I’d been, foods I craved, books I’d read, and I could go on for days about my amazing children, but I was still detached from myself, trying to define myself by things I’d done. It wasn’t until fairly recently that I made the connection that I am more than what I do, more than a set of achievements or hobbies, more than the mother of my children or any other label you might want to attach to define someone.
All I am, and all I can ever be, is myself.
Knowing I was putting together a workshop , I was curious to hear what other mothers knew about themselves. I asked my Facebook friends and fans what they knew of themselves to be true. Here’s what they shared with me:
I know that I am very flexible & tolerant but when my threshold is hit, it’s an instant end to my flexibility.
After almost 40 years of motherhood, I’ve learned this: if mothers have an open heart and listen freely, they will learn more life lesson FROM their children than their children will ever learn from them. And how fabulous that truly is!!!
That I struggle with defining myself, and I’m not sure I’ll ever be satisfied.
That some days it feels awesome to be defined by my children and some days it makes me feel lost. And that’s okay because I know it’s all a part of motherhood.
I am expansive, I am Everymother, I am committed.
I am a good listener and truly always want to help.
So, I wonder, what do you know to be true about yourself?
Who are you?
* * *
When I ask this question, I do so with the understanding that it is deeply personal and sometimes undiscovered territory. Heading into such places, sometimes it’s helpful to start with a map.
To do this, I was inspired by something Gwen Bell shared on her blog about creating a personal manifesto, and after reading it, knew I’d one day do a workshop with a small group on the same topic. Drawing your own map means identifying where you are now, maybe where you’ve been (for context), and certainly an idea of where you hope to go. We don’t always know how to articulate these things or how to get out of our heads long enough to imagine the destination, but for the purposes of this workshop, we used a collection of magazines — since it was my collection, the magazines featured travel, food, family, business, entertainment and Oprah.
Here’s what you’ll need to create your map:
1) a collection of magazines;
2) different sizes of poster board, scissors and glue.
3) Now, go ahead and tear out any images or words that resonate with how you define yourself now, what matters most to you, what you want, where you want to go, and anything else that speaks to your heart.
4) Don’t try to figure out how the pieces fit together just yet. Begin to explore.
5) Get on the floor, turn up the music, and spend about an hour flipping and tearing.
6) At the end of an hour, stretch, snack, and sort. Look for the images that resonate the most. Start arranging and gluing to create your map.
7) If you are doing with a group, share what the images mean to you. How do you see yourself through the images? If alone, reflect on what you notice about your collage. Where are you, and where do you want to be?
8) Don’t judge your work – it doesn’t need to be perfect, nor should or would it look anything like what anyone else might create.
(Here’s a collage I made earlier this year.)
I can’t tell you what the workshop participants learned about themselves, but I know that they are:
- worthy of respect
- dependable
- exotic
- worldly
- gracious
- smart
- beautiful
- go-getters
- devoted
- thoughtful
- caring
- concerned
- open
- colorful
- strong
- determined
- flexible
- funny
- loving
- wise
- irreverent
- connected
- playful
- sassy
- nurturing
- dreamers
- doers
- committed
What did you find?
Where would you like to explore further?
Looking at this, and casting aside all doubts and judgments, what do you know to be true about yourself?
Who are you?
* * *
Take your map and place it somewhere prominent. Think and dream. What do you see?
