A New Direction

My dog and I go walking every day. Our morning walk typically takes us to a nearby park where she meets up with other dogs and gets a bit of socialization. Our afternoon walk is ordinarily a bit longer and lets me get in a podcast or phone call as I wrap up my work day. Both walks have a distinct pattern and direction to them. Out the door…down the stairs…to the left…and then a right turn to the park or left turn to walk through the neighborhood. Those are our patterns. Well worn. Trusted. Certain.

Once in awhile, I add in some type of errand to our afternoon walk. I might need to drop something at the post office or dry cleaners. Perhaps I need some small item at the hardware store a few blocks away. In those instances, at the bottom of the stairs, we turn right. Away from the familiar pattern and headed towards something different.

Lima (my dog) doesn’t like it. She spends most of the walk looking up at me nervously, often turning her head towards the direction she is used to going. She’s a bit skittish. She awkwardly navigates the sidewalk and crosses back and forth in front of me, nearly tripping me up in the leash at times. I use phrases like “You’re fine.” and “It’s alright.” to reassure her but it doesn’t really change anything. The confusion continues all the way to our destination. It is only when we turn towards home, towards the direction she is familiar with that she shifts to her “normal” behaviors. She walks alongside me…relaxed..sniffing the grass or bushes, or eagerly out front…confident she knows where we are heading and comfortable leading the way.

As we were on one of these walks the other day I started thinking about how this might show up in my own life. How I get comfortable with the familiar patterns and the well worn path…in my habits and in my thinking. How new ways of “walking” make me nervous or create discomfort.

Let me give you an example to illustrate what I mean. Just a few months ago I started attending a workout class at the same time each weekday morning. This week I know that a friend may need a ride to the airport during that regularly scheduled class, and I wondered if I would offer to give that ride if it interrupts my way of starting the day. Because the truth is, there are other times that I can make that class work in my schedule. But am I willing to shift? To change my pattern? It seems like a small thing but it actually gave me pause. If this small shift in a pattern made me a bit uncomfortable, what happens when big patterns and habits get challenged…when relationships change…when jobs change…when moves happen.

And how about my thoughts? Assumptions? Beliefs? How often do I think I have the answers based on my past experiences, without considering that there might be new information available. We all rely on our default thinking mechanisms to respond to situations and can be prone to making decisions before inviting curiosity in. We can let old wounds and worries impact our present experiences and relationships, without considering what might be different or new for us in the current circumstance. As for Lima, if she could only learn to bring her curiosity, she might start to realize that those new routes often pass by businesses that have treat containers outside…or they may even create the opportunity to swing into Starbucks for a “pup cup”. (A tiny plastic cup filled with whipped cream for those non-dog folks out there.)

Sometimes the new direction has surprises in store for us that are better than we could have imagined. New relationships, new ways of working and living that are full of possibility. What if you took a turn in a new direction? What might be waiting for you?

“You cannot look in a new direction by looking harder in the same direction.”

— Edward de Bono

The Stories We Tell

Did you know that you are an author? A storyteller? You are weaving together a narrative about your life and your experiences in every moment. Perhaps you haven’t seen yourself in that way but it’s true for each one of us. We have our actual experiences in any moment or in a day and we layer meaning on top of it…creating a story. Let me give you an example that you most likely will relate to, because most of us have done something at least somewhat similar to this.

You arrive at the office and run into a co-worker in the kitchen getting coffee. On this particular morning their greeting is a bit gruff or distant. As they leave with their coffee you start running through the week and your interactions with them. What could you have done that irritated them or caused them to be upset with you. Oh, yes, you said “that thing” in the meeting yesterday ago and they clearly took it the wrong way. Now you do one of two things: 1) get fired up about how unjust it is that they are upset with you or 2) start thinking of how to apologize and make “it” right. You have a busy day and won’t be able to connect with this person until tomorrow and this eats away at you for most of the day. You stew on it, letting it impact your attitude and your energy. You might even tell the story over dinner that night.

What happens next?

Best case scenario: You’re someone who likes to address things head on and as quickly as possible. You make sure to connect with this colleague the next morning to sort this out, bringing up the meeting from a few days ago and reiterating the point you were trying to make. They’re confused. They agreed with your perspective and aren’t sure why you’re mentioning it now. You reference the interaction in the kitchen and how they appeared to be upset with you. They’re surprised and share that they were distracted by something personal that morning. Absolutely nothing to do with you or that meeting.

Worst case scenario: You’re angry and avoid conflict. Never bringing it up and beginning to see other ways that the two of you don’t see eye to eye. The relationship frays and over time a distance develops. Trust between you is tenuous and your ability to work together to deliver positive outcomes becomes limited.

Of course there are alternative ways this could play out but I”m choosing these extremes to illustrate a point. The stories we create have consequences for our time, our energy and our relationships.

I recently spent over a month upset with myself. Mentally beating myself up for not collecting insurance info from another driver after a minor fender bender. My car was making a strange noise when I braked and the story I created was that something had happened during the accident that wasn’t immediately obvious, and now the repairs would be at my expense. Why hadn’t I taken the driver’s info? Why was I so quick to dismiss him with a “it’s no big thing”? I kept avoiding the repair shop because I was afraid the news from them would confirm what an incompetent person I was. Someone who doesn’t follow the right steps after an accident. Someone who should know better. Well, guess what? When I finally took the car in for an assessment it turned out I needed new brakes. At any other point in my life, I might have immediately recognized the sound my care was making, but I was so locked in my story and self-doubt that I wasn’t thinking rationally. I wasted days focusing on something that simply wasn’t true.

So here’s what I’m working on and I invite you to try it, too. Try “writing” a bit more non-fiction. When those incidents like the story of co-worker happen, ask yourself what the facts are. What actually happened? In this case, the answer would be, “I ran into a colleague in the kitchen and they replied in a distant way.” That’s it. End of story. At this point there is no other information that can be confirmed. It’s a pretty brief narrative. Whether or not you want to learn more or simply let it go is up to you. Your decisions can be made based on the facts you have and not the story you’ve created.

“The most dangerous stories we make up are the narratives that diminish our inherent worthiness.”

— Brene' Brown

time to let go

Not long ago a friend shared a “holding onto” story with me. She travels a lot for work, and has a small necessities kit that has gone around the world and back with her. It has all of those little things...hand sanitizer, band-aids, a sewing kit, highlighters, Kleenex...you get the idea. She recounted that on her last trip, she took a fall and needed to grab the Neosporin tube that was stashed in that little bag. A few days later she noticed her knee didn’t seem to be healing as well as she expected. She pulled out that tube of ointment and discovered it had expired about 12 years ago. Over a decade! It turns out that it had been flying around the world, taking up space in that kit, when it actually stopped serving its purpose years ago.

Of course that got me thinking and asking myself some questions:

• What have I been carrying around?

• What’s taking up space that stopped serving its purpose?

• What has passed its expiration date?

I realized was that I was holding onto a role in an organization that made me feel secure and safe in many ways, but limited in others. I had a sense that the way I was working wasn’t aligned with my values and vision for coaching. I could see that while I had gotten many benefits from the role, my excitement and energy for important things had expired…like the Neosporin.

Did I mention the security part? The ways that having that job “in my bag” created the illusion that I was prepared and safe?

In addition to that sense of security, keeping that job was connected to a set of beliefs. Beliefs about the definition of success. Beliefs driven by what I thought other people valued or saw in me. A company with a big reputation and a recognizable name goes a long way in creating a sense of importance. A recent newsletter from “The New Happy” asked the question, “Are your beliefs constraining you or freeing you?” That was definitely on the list of questions I had to consider. Were the set of beliefs like the balloons in this photo, lifting me skyward? Or were they like an anchor, pulling me down?

After reflection, coaching and even a couple of therapy sessions naming a alternate set of beliefs, I decided to let it go.

Recognizing that it was time to shift again. To get back into alignment with myself. To return to SHINE. To the clients and challenges and work that creates a spark in me...and hopefully in those that interact with the work.

So you’ll be seeing me here more often going forward. Back with some ideas and some questions for you...and for me!

“Dare to live by letting go.”

— Tom Althouse

Lessons from Mrs. Maisel

It’s winter. The days are short, the temperatures in the Midwest have been below normal, I’ve been inside more than usual and have been watching more than the recommended dose of subscription television. Perhaps you can relate. One of the shows that I decided to dive into was The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel. I’d heard about the awards and accolades, so knowing almost nothing about the story, I bought into the hype and tuned in.

I’ve definitely enjoyed the show and what has surprised me are the “lessons” underlying the comedy and frivolity of it all. (SPOILER ALERT: For those that haven’t watched yet, now is the time to decide if you want to read on because I’m going to talk specifics.)

The basic story is structured around a family, living on New York’s Upper West Side in the mid to late 1950’s. Their 20-somehting year old daughter, Mrs. Maisel (Miriam), finds herself trying to break into the comedy scene with a stand-up routine. This is quite an unusual pursuit for a woman, especially one of her social standing, and it comes with a lot of bumps along the way. As viewers, we get a front row seat to Miriam’s journey and there are some great leadership lessons tucked in.

#1 - When you are aligned to a vision, very different individuals can harness their unique skills to reach a goal. Miriam and her manager, Susie, are definitely cut from two different cloths. On the surface, they would seem to be opposites with little to connect them. And yet, their goal of launching Miriam’s comedy career makes them an unbeatable team. They have a shared vision which keeps them on track and forces them to work through disagreements. Their unique attitudes and aptitudes help them navigate a variety of situations, tapping into their individual strengths.

#2 - You have to be willing to fail wildly on your way to what you want. The work it takes for Miriam to get a “tight ten minutes” of stand-up is hard. She has to be willing to try new material and new ways of delivering the same joke repeatedly to test the audiences’ response. Sometimes the jokes work and sometimes (many times) they fall flat. In fact, Susie seems almost giddy when she knows that Miriam is about to bomb at a given performance. She knows that failing, and learning from the failures, will help Miriam improve. The only way to achieve success is to risk failing.

#3 - Even when you really want something there are days that you’ll feel like quitting. Yes, even for our leading lady, Miriam. We can see her raw talent and her passion on display, and yet, at some point, she leaves the club upset and defeated. She proclaims, “I quit.” When you’re fully committed to the work you’re doing, the team you’re leading, and the goals you’ve set, the work will be hard at times. There will be days that you’ll feel like giving up. That’s okay. Just make sure you’ve got a “Susie“ around that believes in you and reminds you of what you’re working towards.

#4 - A relationship can change and it doesn’t have to mean the end of the relationship. This is clearly on display in the relationship between Miriam and her ex-husband, Joel. In the beginning, Joel was the one trying to break into comedy and Miriam was his biggest fan. Things shifted quickly and it could have been a harsh ending for this twosome. However, even in the moment Joel realizes what has happened, he champions Miriam. (Okay, maybe he just redirects his anger at her critics but nevertheless he sees her potential.) We see from watching Joel and Miriam navigate their relationship that it is a nuanced thing. That we can do hard things together if we continue to communicate. Roles can change. People can leave organizations. Relationships have roots that can weather the changes.

These are just a few of the lessons that I learned from watching and perhaps there are other things there for you. I personally love how The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel is full of heart, grit and hilarity. As in life and leadership there are mistakes along the way, misunderstandings happen, and feelings get hurt; but at the end of the day, there’s always laughter.

“Spontaneity works until it doesn’t work. Then you’re stuck.”

— Susie Myerson

THE MESSY MIDDLE

I’ve been trying something new this year. An integrative medical technique known as Rolfing. I won’t go into all the details, but the short explanation is that it is deep tissue body work. I signed on for a series of 10 sessions which was recommended by the practitioner. I absolutely loved sessions one through three. I left feeling an ease of motion and lack of pain. I was pretty sure this was the answer I had been seeking to irritating low back and hip pain. And trust me when I tell you I’d been seeking an answer for quite some time! Then along came sessions four, five, and six. I experienced aches, dis-ease and some emotional discomfort that I didn’t expect. I wasn’t pleased. What had happened? Where was the lightness and freedom of movement I had felt in the beginning?

I was sharing all of this during the session six work when a thought suddenly struck me….”This is how I respond to the middle.” I recalled that during my coach training, which happened over three day weekend intensives, that I followed a similar pattern each time. Fridays were exciting, full of anticipation about the new learning. I felt a bit of an energetic buzz around what was about to unfold. Saturdays were the worst. I started feeling some doubt about my abilities to master the new tools, and confusion was the reigning emotion. Saturday nights I typically felt some combination of overwhelmed and exhausted. And then, hallelujah for Sundays! That was the day that it all seemed to click. To come together. I loved everything I had learned and everyone I was learning with. I recognized this as a pattern after the third or fourth weekend of training, and although I recognized it, it still played out the same each time. This was my experience regardless of how I prepared going in. The middle was always tough going.

Laying on the table for my Rolfing session, I began to connect the dots. My body was responding the same way my emotions did during those coach trainings. My brain was sending the same messages about this process. Beginning = new, exciting. Middle = hard, uncomfortable. End = joy, success.

I started thinking about all of the “middle” things that can be hard to deal with.

The middle seat on the airplane.

The middle of a book where the protagonist is winning.

Waistlines.

Mile 13.1 of a marathon.

Leadership.

As a leader I experienced great anticipation when a new project or initiative was underway. I was motivated by the excitement of the team that was coming alongside for the journey. A well thought out, well communicated strategy that employees can grab ahold of can create a positive buzz and be re-energizing for an organization. Likewise, there are the feelings of satisfaction and success a leader or team feels when something has been completed. A program executed well, a finish line crossed. Deep breathing. Celebration. But what about the middle? What happens when you’re too far from the beginning to sustain the excitement but not close enough to the end to feel the joy of success? What happens there?

Here’s what I’m learning can happen for me and maybe this is true for you, too. That this “middle” is the part I most need to lean into. That there is the most to be gained right in the middle of the mess. This is where I learn and grow. This is where the discomfort (which is totally irritating to me) is pointing directly at the thing I need to focus on to get stronger. In the case of my body, it turns out my back pain is actually linked to an old ankle sprain. Once that ankle started aching we discovered the place where the work really needed to be done.

I’ll be honest. This is a hard lesson for me to learn. It seems I have to be taught repeatedly how unavoidable and how necessary this part of the process is. I’ve actually had a reminder, in the form of an infographic by John Saddington, posted in front of my desk for the past year telling me that creating requires me to go through the middle. Right in front of me! And still, it took my body to find another way to send me this message.

In case a visual might be helpful to you, you can check out The Emotional Journey of Creating Anything Great by clicking below.

Should you find yourself in what John calls “the dark swamp of despair”, try diving deeper to see what you might find there. What connections can you see? What will you discover. For me, this old song keeps looping in my mind reminding me that, “The ankle bone’s connected to the shin bone. and the shin bone’s connected to the knee bone.”

“The middle path is the way to wisdom.”

— Rumi

COMPARISON...THE JOY THIEF

This is hard to write.  Not because I can't think of anything to say but rather because my own experience on this topic became too "real" for me this past weekend and frankly, I'm a bit reluctant to talk about it.  But here I go.  Because I think it matters.  Because it might be useful to you. Because it's helpful for me to say it out loud. Because in naming it I believe I can start changing it.

Last week I sent out the SHINE monthly newsletter.  The topic...The Chaos of Comparison.  I've been really tuned into where comparison is showing up around me and how it seems to be at the root of why so many of us are so busy...comparing, competing, hustling.  And when I'm tuned in, the volume on my self-awareness is turned up.  I thought I was doing a really great job of managing my inner critic and comparison saboteur.  I was ON IT!  Aware that I have a loud comparison voice but not letting it drive the direction of my life.  Or so I thought.

There I was, the morning after the newsletter went out, sharing with a friend that I had some anxiety about one of my weekend activities.  A girlfriend invited several of us to be part of a portrait party.  She was treating us to time in front of the camera with the amazing SpiderMeeka. I told my friend on the phone that I was feeling anxious about being photographed in front of other women...especially those that I considered more photogenic than me....which was basically all of them. He gently reminded me that I had not only written about comparison the day before but also that I've been on a crusade about comparison stealing our joy for several months now.  (Side bar: Note of gratitude for friends that hold up the mirror and speak truth to us.) Whoa. This hit hard.  I was on the verge of letting my anxiety about the situation, diminish the joy that I could be feeling about spending a Saturday morning with donuts, mimosas and friends.  

Fast forward to Saturday morning.  After listening to approximately five rounds of "This Is Me" from The Greatest Showman while drying my hair and putting on makeup, I walked over to my closet, picked a top I loved (without following any of the rules about color or pattern) and went joyfully out into the world to have my picture taken.  Morning mantra: THIS IS ME.

Great story.  Happy ending, right?  Oh, if only it ended there.  You see, I'm not telling you all of this because it's a story about having my picture taken.  It turns about it's much bigger than that.  The truth that's really hard to write about is that I might actually be letting more than my joy be stolen, I might just be letting my life be taken.  The full, big story, pump up the volume life that I believe we all are meant to live...where we're meant to shine...mine has been hanging out quietly over in the corner with comparison.  The gift of that Saturday morning portrait party was that it revealed something I hadn't been paying attention to.  It showed me that I've been walking around with a performance scorecard in my head and compared to others I had been giving myself pretty low marks. No longer above average in my former corporate role, not yet a high achiever in the world of leadership coaching..clearly below average was what I deserved.  And do you know what happens when you're living with the idea you're below average?  Not much.  There's not much creativity there, not much energy for invention and cultivating growth...and not a lot of joy for the work that you are offering to the world.  This, my friends, is not an easy thing to realize about yourself. Especially when you're committed to helping others shine.  

It was time to get serious about a plan.

So here it is.  I'm tearing up the scorecard that comparison has been using.  The one that ranks how my accomplishments, my leadership, the way I spend my time measure up against the way everyone else is doing it. I'm done with that one.  I've built a new scorecard.  One that looks my life and how what I'm doing measures up against what I want to create. A progress report rather than a scorecard.  Do you want to see what that looks like?  Great!  Because I want to share it with you. 

Here's what I considered when developing this tool to track my progress:

• What do I value or want to spend time on right now?  
• How often to I want to look at this and check my progress?
• What language do I want to use that feels kind vs. critical?
• What inspires me that I want to include?
• What's the question I need to ask myself if I'm not living in alignment with what is important to me?

If what I'm talking about sounds like something you can relate to, I invite you to contemplate the scorecard you've been using.  How are you measuring yourself? Who are you measuring yourself against?   What would it be like to create your own progress report?  One that allows you to stay on track with what matters most to you.  Give it a try.  Do it for you.  Shine on.

“We won’t be distracted by comparison if we are captivated with purpose.”

— Bob Goff

Helping or Hurting?

I'm a helper.  Show me a problem and I'll jump in to try and fix it.  Shine the light on a need and I'll rally the troops to bring assistance.  I am motivated by challenges and feel a sense of accomplishment in overcoming them.  As part of a team, I want the team to run smoothly and successfully and I'll take on all kinds of responsibilities to ensure that happens.  That's what leaders do.  Take on more.  Solve problems. Help.

Or at least that's what I thought until a recent situation caused me to reconsider.  Here's the story:

I was having dinner with friend who shared that she would be spending part of the next day at her ex-husband's house cleaning their boys' room. She knew it had gotten a bit out of control and while the kids and their dad were on spring break, she wanted to help out by taking on this project.  She and her former husband are really intentional about co-parenting and from her perspective, cleaning the room was her way of helping him to be a good dad.  

Fast forward through the weekend and follow up conversations about how hard this project turned out to be, and how conflicted she felt about whether this was effectively helping or not.  Here are the questions we landed on.  What if this version of helping was actually making the situation worse?  What if helping was accidentally diminishing?  In trying to help create a "good dad" image what she was possibly doing was sending the opposite message.  One that sounded like this: This room (and the way your dad keeps it) doesn't meet the expectation of what good looks like so I'll clean it up.  Clean=Good.  Messy=Bad.  It turned out that helping was getting in the way of the ultimate goal of highlighting what was good.

Fortunately we had been discussing Liz Wiseman's book, Multipliers, at our Friday night dinner gathering.  (Yep, sometimes that's what we talk about at dinner...leadership.)  I shared that when I was diving into the book a couple of years ago, I was absolutely sure I was a leader who multiplied.  I was committed to others, to seeing what was best in them and to helping them grow.  I wanted to help them to be good...even great.  What I was surprised to learn from the research and examples in the book, is that there were times when I thought I was multiplying talents but I was accidentally diminishing them.  (Side note:  If you haven't had a chance to read Multipliers yet, I recommend picking it up today.)

Consider this leadership scenario alongside my friend's situation with the messy room:

• There's a project that your team is working on. (Living with kids)

• You have an idea of the desired outcome and the way it should look when completed. (Clean room)

• Someone in the group is producing or creating results in a way that doesn't align with your vision. (Messy room)

• You, in the spirit of helping, jump in to assist with that part of the project to get it on track. (Clean it yourself)

Rather than getting curious about that person's work style and ideas, you instead offer to help to ensure the outcome you want.  What message are you sending?  If you're like me, the story you've been telling yourself is that you're a helper and helping is good. Helping is what leaders do. True?  Definitely.  But consider what might also be true.  That helping can be diminishing.  That jumping in as a helper can make others feel like they're not enough or that their way of working is somehow wrong.  It can actually have an effect that decreases motivation and engagement and ultimately impacts the health of your team.

This is a tough one.  I know.  It's nuanced.  A paradox.  If both things are true then how do you know when to help and when help is getting in the way?  I've put together a tool with questions that are useful to consider when discerning where to step in and when to step back.  Print it.  Use it. Share it.  Let's continue exploring this one together.

“Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better.”

— Maya Angelou

Stay the Course

Here we are.  In the second week of a new year.  For many of you this means that last week was a time of reflection, focused on evaluating 2017 and setting new goals for the new year.  I found my social media feeds flooded with encouragement to start something new and to dream big dreams for the year ahead.  I love that sort of thing.  I thrive on encouraging words and big ideas.  Yet for some reason last week I felt somewhat uneasy and at times a bit discouraged.  I wasn't feeling inspired or ready for the next big thing.  I wondered what was wrong with me.  Had I lost my spark?  Gone flat?  I took a personal inventory and realized that 2018 actually needed something different from me.  I needed to stay the course.  You see, the year before had been full of change...new learning, developing new skills and launching a business. I'm still working on all of that every day and it is good, fulfilling work. It is aligned with my passions and goals.  It needs my focus and energy.  In order for the seeds I've planted to bloom, I've got to keep nurturing and cultivating right where I'm at.  I've got to keep sailing towards that point on the horizon that I've identified as my destination.

My experience in business was somewhat counter to this idea of staying the course, and perhaps that's what caused this struggle for me.  For most, business is driven by the fiscal year.  Annual financial goals, strategic plans, and performance reviews are all part of the rhythm of the way we work.  We hold annual sales meetings, lead our organizations through "a year in review" and evaluate success based on yearly metrics. All of these things are valuable and necessary touch points and sometimes they get in the way of actually reaching our long term goals.  This annual evaluation can open the door to criticism and questioning.  Sometimes from others but definitely from ourselves.  That little voice that whispers to us in the middle of the night, asking if we're doing the right thing, leading well, and making good decisions suddenly gets really loud.  We review the data and the things that aren't yet "perfect" are suddenly glaring issues.  We start believing that we've got to change course...fast!  So maybe we move the target, restructure the team, devise new strategies and roll out new plans.  As one of my colleagues phrased it, we start to "chase the shiny".  

Some backyard landscaping we did a few years ago has taught me a few things about needing time and space to grow.  Like any garden in the midwest, our plants go through yearly cycles. They bloom in the spring, grow larger in the summer, die in the fall and stay dormant for the winter. To be honest, at the end of the first cycle I wasn't so sure if some of the plants were going to make it, and I also wasn't sure about why the landscaper had positioned them where she had.  I had doubts about her skills, my abilities to nurture what had been planted and was considering pulling some things out, moving them around and adding some other plants.  For whatever reason, I never quite got to that and in each of the years that have followed, the garden has looked a bit better than the last.  Plants have filled in, shade trees are finally large enough to provide shade and I see the results of the plan that I was questioning at the time it was implemented.

Maybe that's where you're at the start of this new year.  Questioning the plan, thinking that something new needs to be implemented or inserted. Maybe it does....or perhaps it just needs time.  Time to grow, time to take hold, time to flourish.  This can be hard.  When the questions get asked and the critics get loud, it can be tempting to change course...to find a new person to do the job, a new process to implement, a new consultant to hire or training to roll out...to chase the shiny.  What is often more difficult, is to declare, "I trust my decisions...the team..our strategy...this individual."  It requires a great deal of conviction to weather the storm, to stay the course, to sit in the discomfort and to trust in our plans.

My hope is that you will carve out the time to consider what is right for you.  That you check your coordinates to see if you are on course.  That you make the adjustments you need, or stay steady if that is what's necessary.  You do you.  Shine on.

“Whatever course you decide upon, there is always someone to tell you that you are wrong. There are always difficulties arising which tempt you to believe your critics are right. To map out a course of action and follow it to an end requires courage.”

— Ralph Waldo Emerson