Possibility as a North Star
It is the afternoon/evening before this essay is scheduled to go live.
I try not to do this – write at the ‘last minute.’
Rather than write an essay this week, I was considering sharing a poem. But upon reflection, that feels a little too – something – so I’ll save that idea for a different time.
I’ve been reflecting, of late, on the notion of possibility as a North Star. That’s the offering I’m prepared to make this week. I’m pretty overwhelmed and tired at the moment.
When I say “North Star,” I’m thinking about direction, guidance, and choice points. I am not referring to the professional hockey team in Minnesota in my youth (which eventually got traded in its entirety to the state of Texas, which still doesn’t make any sense to me, considering they don’t have snow, let alone ice). I digress.
If you’ve been following along, you’ll be aware that I am moving house in less than three weeks. I am in the middle of that condensed period of time that feels to me like financial blood-letting --- money to plumbers, money to electricians, money to inspectors, and more. Imagine me making jazz hands at this point - I’m having fun, I promise. It’s just that this is the cash-flying-out-the-window part of moving which I know will calm down eventually.
Anyways, one of the things I like to do to self-soothe at the moment, is to go on YouTube and look for, listen to, and watch interior design ideas that inspire me. In a short video I watched yesterday before I headed out to a community ed yoga class taught nearly in the dark (our teacher plugged in 4 salt lamps) something struck me.
A content creator Caroline Winkler talked about the overwhelm that can occur when trying to put together your home simply because of the sheer volume of images, trends, products, and styles swirling about. She said that a piece of advice she had heard that resonated with her was to remember her North Star. In this case it was a design North Star. A vibe, a look, a feeling, a function – it could be any of these.
The reminder here was to cast a vision and then allow that clarity to help that which does not fit fall away – releasing its hold with more ease and less tension than if you had to approach each and every decision you needed to make from scratch. That’s too much energy. That’s too much brain power. That’s too much stress. And it’s not necessary.
Back to possibility.
Years ago, when coming up with the values words that would support our mission at Team Dynamics, “possibility” emerged early on. And now that I’m running my own coaching practice, and I’m writing my next book solo, and I’m a childless cat lady (sans cat), I find it a cool time to revisit – what is driving me these days? What is my current North Star?
Has it morphed? Changed? Shifted?
What is feeling central? What is feeling ancillary?
I have the immense privilege of working as a coach to incredible leaders who are in the midst of asking themselves big and important questions. Things like:
How much longer do I want to work, and how could I approach my eventual exit with grace and intentionality?
Who do I want to work for and work around? Who are “my people” at this phase in my life?
How do I want to be pushed to grow and develop?
In what ways are my conscious needs, boundaries, and desires shifting and changing as I heal and deepen my connection with myself?
This past week I got to speak with a leader about the words, phrases, and frameworks that were guiding her thinking about her own present and future embodiment of leadership. That got me thinking.
Possibility keeps reemerging. It’s emerging in my book project. It’s emerging in my house projects. It’s emerging with my clients. It’s emerging in my relationships.
For me, something that feels deeply true (like somewhere deep down in my bone marrow) is that very few things are impossible.
It’s like – robots now exist, we go to space and to deep water. We know the most we’ve ever known in human history, and there is obviously still so much more to learn.
Possibility. Creativity. Tenacity. Stick-to-it-ive-ness.
There is this “West Wing” quote I say out loud (or at the very least mumble to myself) at least once per week: “Before I look for anything, I look for a mind at work.”
I’m obsessed with that quote. Why? Because I think it’s dead on. At work and in life I want to be surrounded by creative and adaptive people. People who make offerings, make invitations, and make new things – both literally and figuratively.
Impossible feels like nihilism to me. It feels like a giving up. A giving in. A contraction of energy and ideas and hope.
Possible to me feels – not Pollyanna – not saccharine sweet - possible to me feels like – well…trying.
As a professional in the field of movement building and systems change, if we didn’t believe a better world – a less racist, sexist, homophobic world was possible – then what would be the point in trying?
Let me be very clear – I do not feel awash in possibility every single day. More often than is comfortable, I feel confused, turned around, at a loss for what to do or try next. There are most certainly days, meetings, and moments when I wonder how on earth we might break through. It’s in those moments that it has proven especially helpful to remind myself,
“Well, Trina, I’m not sure how we’re going to figure this out exactly…but the good news is, that very few things are IMPOSSIBLE. So, what is one tiny move, one breath or shift or turn in a better direction? What on earth feels possible?”
Let me know about your current North Stars (trina@trinaolson.com) and also let me know if ya’ll could tolerate a poem from me next week. I might get brave enough to share something.
Don’t forget to vote early if you’re able – we’re getting closer and closer each day.
Sending love, light, and North Star energy your direction,