Peter Elbridge

Pics 2

You don’t need to read this post

Really. You don’t.

“Don’t miss the sunset! 9:28 PM”

So said my weather app the other day, and I spiraled into a cynical frenzy.

Here’s the thing, damn it. I am so busy. I can’t add the sunset on top of it all.

And actually, I can, and the sunset would be maybe the best thing to add on top of it all.

But weather app. Why are you trying to sell me on the sunset? When did this become a thing?

More. Why the hell are you preying on my Fear Of Missing Out to convince me to watch the sunset.

I think . . . I just think . . . it may have something to do with the fact that if I feel like I’m missing something if I don’t stay in touch daily with my weather app, then I may click on it more, and it may make more money.

And this is how we all got burnt out.

“This ‘Face-Lift In a Bottle’ Sold Out At Target” (on Yahoo! News).

“William and Kate Party on With 1,700 Guests at Royal Wedding of the Year” (MSN).

“Biden falls at graduation, but gets back up and finishes ceremony” (MSN).

“Belgian town organizes seagull imitation championship” (Reuters). Okay, no that one can stay.

Once upon a time, you missed almost everything that happened in the world. And you were probably a lot mentally healthier and less exhausted for it. There were disadvantages to this arrangement–like lots of powerful people could do lots of bad things all around the world and nobody would know or care. Now at least we know and care for a few days.

And most of the great things you need to do or get or try or know right now, you’d never do or get or try or know, and gosh life was a lot happier.

But now absolutely everything is at your fingertips, screaming at you when your alarm goes off and your groggy hands reach for your phone. You need it all! And it’s exhausting.

Everything is too good to miss, too funny to miss, too life-changing to miss, too good a deal to miss, too shocking to miss.

And every single 24 hour day, you fail at keeping up with it all. And that’s bad. You’re bad. You could be better. If only you clicked this, bought that, tried this, knew that.

But it’s just not possible.

A thousand “You can’t miss this” things are fighting over your exhausted attention every day, and every day, they win and you lose.

You will never have it all, know it all, see it all, understand it all, care about it all, try it all, or keep up with it all.

It’s really going to be okay if you don’t know about that Face-Lift in a Bottle that sold out at Target.

And it’s really okay if you miss the sunset tonight.

Although come to think of it, it still would have been there had the weather app not made you feel Shouldy about it.

I usually put a subscribe button down here. Not today. You literally are going to be fine if you miss what I write. Wishing you peace and intrinsic enoughness. <3

A bunch of me’s wouldn’t work

It literally takes all kinds.

A few unique things about me: I whistle a lot and share lots of smiles. I’m really bad at faking good feelings, and try as I might I can never quite hide when I’m having a rough time with something. People share a lot with me, trust me, know that I’ll listen, know I care about them. I don’t have the endless stamina some seem to have, and am sometimes one of the first to raise my hand and say “I’m exhausted.” Give me a project involving creativity, problem-solving, or communication and I will pump out quality content at an unusual speed. I’m not great at asking clients for money and can’t imagine being one of those people that negotiate all the deals.

Imagine a team made up of a bunch of Peter’s. It would be totally horrible. And that is a quality that is not unique to me–a quality I share with every human. A team, a family, a group, a community made up of identical you’s or me’s would be miserable. Team Peter would look like lots of smiles and excellent training, but probably not enough outbound sales and just maybe not enough insistence on profitability. A family of two or four Peters would be really attentively caring but would probably have to make sure that care was pretty exactly even all the time every day and also would never stop eating cheese.

I think that traditional workAmerica–one that has historically envisioned peak efficiency through ultimate employees who scores a hundred on this or that personality test–has left a lot of us thinking we have to solve (or at least hide) all our weaknesses and develop all the strengths. But I think it turns out that diversity of strengths, skills, passions, personalities, and perspectives in any group–professional, personal, creative, athletic, you choose–is where real good things happen.

If our team is made up of a bunch of hypey extroverts, we probably won’t slow down to think carefully about the implications of the messages we’re messaging and we may not feel like a safe space for people with a little less energy. If our team is made up of a bunch of quiet introverts, nobody might ever know we’re here.

If our team is full of recovering people-pleasers, we could use a healthy dose of unapologetic firmness in a new teammate. Or if we’re all a little rough around the edges, we may need to look for a gentle, soft-spoken teammate.

Teams, families, groups, communities–need the differences.

Not only is it needed, but for goodness sake it’s also just HUMAN. If one person works better with a paper to do list than the software you found for them, and another person dreads phone calls but writes fantastic emails and hits it off in person–there’s a good chance they can get the same stuff done as their other peers, if we support and encourage them to be their best creative selves. In my work as a sales manager, I’ve watched team members succeed at the same measurable goals using completely different personality traits and skills: One gets it done by grabbing every single opportunity they can find; another by taking such great care of clients and building such rapport that they keep coming back and sending referrals; another by just unapologetically asking nosey questions about clients lives and business. None of these are the right way. And none of them are the wrong way. They’re that person’s way. And when embraced and run with, they all worked.

Okay, a little tweaking can be needed, and we certainly add skills and ideas to our arsenal along the way. But the traditional search for the perfect person with the perfect skill set and the perfect communication style (who decides that?) and the perfect positivity and the perfect education and the perfect selling and the perfect everything–it’s an unrealistic search that leaves untapped a lot of beautiful potential.

So next time you’re ready to complain that someone doesn’t do it your way . . .

Or maybe this is just my biased opinion as someone whose far-and-away highest StrengthsFinder score was “Maximizer.” I just think your strengths and my strengths and their strengths is a promising combo. Seriously, can you imagine a team of only you’s? Yeah, we need each other. ;)

Want to combine my words with your day-to-day? I’d be honored. ;)

Awkwardly shamelessly human

So much of every day we do what we do and we don’t what we don’t because of a “supposed to” feeling. Many of these arbitrary standards, none of us even like anymore, but we don’t dare color outside the lines about them.

Most of us don’t dance when we want to dance. Most people don’t even want to dance when our bodies are happy or emotional. Because you don’t. You just don’t. You’re supposed to save dancing for where it belongs and then be one of those enviable people who can switch it on.

Most of us answer “pretty good, thanks” when we for sure aren’t pretty good, thanks, because this is just what you do. Because letting your lip quiver and eyes go misty is strange and uncomfortable and friendship is not what friends are for.

Most of us wear the clothes we’re supposed to wear, order the drink we’re supposed to like, keep the job we’re supposed to have, say the things we’re supposed to say, stay alone like we’re supposed to stay alone.

If rewards and punishments and hierarchies and shame and norms and rules and expectations all disappeared, would you sing more? Would you hug more? Would you enjoy your food more? Would you jump in a lake with your clothes on more or at least lay on a beach more? Would you share more and ask more? Would you slow down more and put your phone away and actually rub your dog’s belly for more hours? Would you ask for what you truly want more? Would you laugh more? Would you maybe even do that 6-year-old thing again where you say “Hey, can we be friends?” and suddenly find that the human life isn’t quite so lonely without all the shame?

What if doing what you’re supposed to do and don’ting what you’re supposed to don’t is suffocating you? What if humans aren’t supposed to robot?

When do we get to meet shameless you?

_{Photo by Lyssi}

Want some more reminders for your awkwardly shamelessly human journey?

Leap of self

I get love by pleasing other people. It’s my little trick. If I make enough people happy enough of the time (all people all of the time), I won’t be alone, at least I’ll be able to tell myself I’m not alone, or I think that was the plan.

I feel a sense of power in my solar plexus. For once, I shed my hummingbird-soft voice. I firmly speak my actual truth, the one that flings open the door to uncertainty. And I know that in this moment I love myself and I am only letting myself be loved by others who actually love Me.

The journey from people-pleasing to self-determination requires a blind leap for those whose experience was never of being loved as just who they are. How does this work? I don’t give them what they want? I don’t cave? I disappoint them? And how can this go well?

But with that leap I feel a nurturing embrace from deep in my own body. A deep gratefulness for finally introducing myself. An embrace that makes losing another’s a little less scary.

And after it all, someone sees me, maybe for the first time, and for some reason they still want to embrace me. Maybe even tighter now.

And their embrace means more, and so does my own embrace glowing warm deep in my core. It’s a truth, a being seen, an authenticity I don’t ever want to bury again. And it’s better.

Who are you when you speak from your core?