Building a personal champions’ network
Much of the literature on transformation suggests that a strong support network is a prerequisite for change. Whether it’s a gym buddy to stay on track with fitness goals, a trusted mentor to wade through career dilemmas, or a community of advocates to provide guidance on a new venture.
I inherently believe in the power of a support network. I also personally struggle with this notion because for as long as I can remember I’ve been a one-woman show. Fiercely independent, I have little tolerance for being told what to do. (Just ask my hubby who has been on the receiving end of the wrath in response to well-intentioned suggested solutions to my dilemmas. “I’m just trying to help”, he says as he licks the wounds of my ferocious bite.)
“Do you want my advice?”
In fact, one of the hardest exercises for me — and biggest breakthroughs — following my breakdown/awakening, à la Brené Brown, a couple of years ago was finding the courage to articulate my dream, even though not fully formed, and then ask for support from my closest allies and listen to their feedback with an open heart. This simple practice led to some life-changing talks with my family, friends and trusted advisors.
Simple might be an understatement for the process because, in practice, it was a lot harder than it sounds. It isn’t easy to share our most vulnerable dreams and open up to hear how this lands in the world. Sometimes the people we most need to have on our side can subconsciously hold us back, as they remain gripped in their own fears: “But you’ve got a great job, a new house…what more could you possibly want out of life?” (Subtext = “Will you still be the same friend/parent/spouse if you change/move/get a promotion/realize your dream?”) This kind of feedback waters the seeds of doubt already firmly in place as the mind and heart battle it out for attention.
Building a personal support network
Over the years I have learned to get around these external doubt-mongers by building a personal champions’ network based on two basic principles. First, I am exceedingly selective in choosing a trusted entourage. Just as I kicked out the saboteurs from the Board of Directors in my head, I also had to clear out the weeds in my real-life network. If it’s true that we are a reflection of the average five people we spend the most time with, then my five closest allies have got to be rock stars!
It’s equally important not to expect each rock star to be all things. Much as it would be easier to have a personal oracle with an answer to every question, it’s neither realistic nor fair to expect the people in our life to be experts at everything: rock stars or not, everyone has their limits. The beauty of a network is that there is always someone out there who knows more than you about something. Bringing in divergent opinions, perspectives and advice from multiple sources provides a 360-degree view and allows us to come to our own conclusions after careful consideration of these angles.
The second principle is to be brave enough to open my heart vulnerably to this trusted network and listen to their advice — even when I don’t agree or don’t want to hear it. I can’t tell you how many times my instinctive reaction to advice is to immediately defend my choice or dismiss an idea that is counter to my thinking: “I know what’s best for me…how could he/she possibly know what I face in this situation?”
My new practice in such moments is to take a deep breath and listen without judgement: maybe they see something I couldn’t have imagined that would make or break the idea. Or maybe not. Ultimately it doesn’t matter because whether or not I follow their advice, the value is in the act of sharing and listening. This draws the idea out of my head and into the world to play. It inspires goodwill among the people who most want to see me fulfilled. And that’s when the real fun begins!
(Feature photo: Ryan McGuire / gratisography)
