Opening to Assistance

Yahoo! Welcome to the 2018 Calgary Stampede!

For more than 20 years, I have spent five days displaying my Peruvian Horses at the Greatest Outdoor Show on Earth, the Calgary Stampede. Over a million visitors come through the gates over the ten days of the event.

This year, I tried something different. I asked more people to help out at the booth. You see, Sunday is Family Day. Admission is free from 9:00 to 11:00 and there is also a free pancake breakfast for those arriving early. The barns are packed with families wanting to see the animals. Thousands and thousands of them.

There are Activity Books in Horse Haven. These include coloring sections, and information on each of the horse breeds displayed. There is also a passport where people collect stamps from each of the booths. We have two stamps because we share our booth with another breed who takes the last five days. This doesn’t sound like much, but when you re-ink the stamps two or three times in a day, you can imagine the number of stamps applied.

This year, I had the privilege of having at least two people in the booth stamping at all times, and at least one more watching out for the horse and ensuring both the horse and the people were kept safe. This kept me so much calmer, and made a very busy day merely busy rather than stressful.

I thought about all the times in life I thought I had to do something by myself – that it was a sign of weakness to ask for help. Yesterday, I was given a gift and a reminder that it if someone offers to help, it is a gift both to you and to them when you are gracious in accepting their offer.

My challenge for you today is to look around for someone you can help, even by holding open a door. The bigger challenge is to accept that offer, and sincerely thank them. Thanks to those who helped me yesterday, and those that will help today. May I be able to return the favour, either back to them or to someone else.

Jocelyn

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Knowing When It’s Time

 

About six weeks ago, one of my horses began to drop weight quickly. The vet and I both thought it was probably tooth related, but she found his teeth were in good shape.  With that ruled out, she told me that there was little or no  chance that anything else that would cause that kind of weight loss was treatable. “The drastic weight loss shown without any other overt clinical signs would be consistent with lymphoma or a systemic neoplastic process with internal involvement.”

She told me that he does not appear to be in pain. His eye is bright, and he has energy. He is still the boss of the herd. He picks at hay, but likes the grass and supplements I give him. Twice a day, he eagerly meets me at the gate to come out and have his supplements and graze on the lawn. Then he walks to the gate to let me know it’s time for him to rejoin his friends in the pasture.

I have decided to give him some time to enjoy the warm weather and spring grass unless he begins to show signs of pain or starts letting the others boss him around. My heart bleeds as I prepare for the almost certain outcome of releasing him from his pain when the time is right.

This morning, two SPCA officers arrived at my door to investigate a cruelty complaint against me because of the thin horse in my pasture. There are seven others in the same pasture in good weight. He asked what I had done for the horse, and he told me he had no concerns and would be closing the file.

I am left to process the emotions. I am so sad that my equine friend is preparing to leave this life. I am hurt that one of my neighbours believes I would deliberately let an animal suffer and saw fit to report me to the SPCA without contacting me. I am glad that they are keeping an eye out for those animals who may truly be in distress.

The most difficult decision we ever make when we become custodians of our animal friends is in knowing that we will probably outlive them and need to say goodbye. It is never an easy decision. In this case, it is made even more difficult as I deal with feeling that my neighbours are sitting in judgement of me. I hope that the report of the SPCA office will stop any gossip. I fear it won’t and I will have a reputation of not caring for my animals.

This particular situation triggers me as I, too, was diagnosed with cancer a few years ago. The disease was nowhere near as painful and exhausting as the treatment. There were times throughout the process when death seemed an attractive option, but no one made the determination to end any chance of healing. I struggle with whether that experience makes me more or less equipped to make this decision for my equine friend. His condition is not deteriorating. He is alert and energetic – but painfully thin.

“Don’t let the noise of other’s opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart’s intuition”. – Steve Jobs

My horse has not indicated to me the time is right, and I have given him permission to cross over if he is finished. I am at peace with waiting for his decision, and every day I grieve his imminent departure. I pray that I am open to the answers that arrive.

UPDATE: For the first time this morning (May 14, 2018), he was not interested in food. He has spoken, and the vet sees him at 1:00 this afternoon. Please think of him and help send his spirit to the place where there is no more disease.

The Price of Independence

I grew up valuing independence. I cherished my ability to do things for myself. I would generally refuse offers of help. Somehow in my mind, I saw this independence as proof of my competence and value as a human being. I didn’t want to owe anyone for my success.

When someone would offer to help, I would often refuse. Sometimes I felt like the offer was an implicit judgement on my ability to produce results on my own, although it was really my own judgement of myself.  Sometimes I didn’t want to bother others by appearing to be weak and needy. My words, not theirs.

My independence did allow me to do some things that I may not have done if I needed to create harmony with a partner, but it also created some walls around me. Spirit has a way of offering us lessons that get a little bigger each time until we learn. For me, it took a sledgehammer. Weekly chemo and daily radiation therapy. For seven weeks.

Throughout and after treatment, I was unable to care for myself and my animals. I needed help. I was afraid that being so vulnerable would make people run, and they did – towards me. My friends and family lined up to drive me to treatment (2 hour drive, plus time at the hospital) and I never went to treatment alone. My dogs and horses were cared for.

I learned that when people offer to help, it doesn’t mean they feel I can’t do it myself, only that I don’t have to. They want to share time with me. When I offer to help, it is out of a desire to assist and yet I found it hard to accept that this is true of others.

Relationships cannot be a one way street. I am happy to contribute to community events in addition to helping my friends out with their tasks. Collaboration is much more rewarding than too much time spent alone.

There is satisfaction in having the competence to manage things on my own, but there is joy in sharing even the mundane tasks with family and friends. As we give, we shall receive. I am so grateful for the network of family and friends that allow me to celebrate my independence while contributing their support.

Excellence is Always Adeqate

Excellence is always adequate.

I try not to use the terms “never” and “always”, but in a recent discussion with a friend, I found myself making the statement above. This friend is known for beating herself up and reliving every minor error in her mind over and over. She is also extremely capable and conscientious, and most people see her quite differently than she sees herself.

We often carry unexamined messages from childhood that affect our lives. These may be comments that were made casually by our parents, and have affected our self-image ever since. Many of us strive for perfection and exhaust ourselves, rather than saying something is “good enough”.

Others are comfortable with “good enough” and don’t make the effort to make or do something that they will be proud of. There are times when “good enough” is not “good enough” to satisfy our personal standards, and we may choose to raise those standards from “good enough” to “excellence”.

I have decided that I will give myself a score of excellent if 97% of what I produce is error-free. The Pareto Principle, or 80/20 rule states that 20% of the invested input is responsible for 80% of the results obtained. There are diminishing returns with the additional effort. I generally want to do better than 80%, therefore 20% of the effort is less than I choose to put in. To create results I’m satisfied with or even proud of, I am willing to put in 60% to 70% of the effort required for perfection in order to produce an excellent result.

Further, there are projects and tasks that are not important enough to require 80%, and others that require 99% rather than 97%. However, I have scratched my head searching for tasks and projects that require 100%, or perfection and come up with nothing.

Oxford defines adequate as “Satisfactory or acceptable in quality or quantity.”

Merriam-Webster defines adequate as:

• “Sufficient for a specific need or requirement”,
• “good enough : of a quality that is good or acceptable”, and,
• “of a quality that is acceptable but not better than acceptable.” 

I suspect that the final Webster definition is the one that sticks in the craw of those of us who drive ourselves to great lengths, and suggest that we visit tasks and projects on a case by case basis to determine which require more attention (excellence rather than adequate).

How many times do you drive yourself to distraction trying to be perfect?

After careful consideration, I have determined that for me, excellence is always adequate. There is never a time when perfection is required. If I have put in the effort on a worthy task, and the output is excellent, it does not need to be perfect.

Jocelyn Hastie

P.S. In the first publication of this post, I spelled adequate wrong in the title. It’s not too late to revisit and improve your work!

Jocelyn Hastie is the founder of Unbridled Business Solutions Inc., a company specializing in communications related training and creator of Cutting the Crush of Criticism.

 

 

Lessons in Communication

When I had the opportunity to add horses to my life at the age of 30, I jumped at the chance. I had always been a farm girl at heart although I grew up in the city. I think I got the “animal lover” gene from my mother’s father. When he married my grandmother, he drove the wagon for the local creamery and had three draft horses. When he married grandma, he couldn’t afford her and three horses, so he had to sell one.

When I married a rancher’s son and was given my first horse at around 30, I felt as if a piece of my soul had come home. I learned that my way of slamming through life was no longer going to work. I needed to find a way to communicate with a sentient being that did not speak English. I needed to create a connection between us that overrode the differences between us.

I learned to slow down, to become more observant. To pick up the clues that something I was doing was affecting someone else negatively. I took those lessons into the workplace and became a much more effective team leader.

I learned lessons about authenticity. There isn’t a horse alive that worries that its saddle makes their butt look big. They may spook at a piece of paper, but don’t pretend it didn’t bother them, and quickly get back to grazing calmly rather than revisiting the momentary fear.

I learned lessons about clarity in communication. When the boss mare flattens her ears, shows her teeth and shakes her head at another herd member, they move. If they don’t, she may turn her back end and threaten to kick. If that doesn’t work, she may kick. But she doesn’t start with the kick.

If you look around, you will see communication everywhere. I invite you to watch for methods that work for others (either two legged or four), and experiment with how those methods might work for you.

Jocelyn

 

The Call of Competition

For over twenty years, I was a competitor at Peruvian Horse shows. Last year, I began to compete in speaking competitions. I have come to believe most of the audience is hoping that I will do well. I also want my competitors to do well. As the bar is raised, we all improve.

My theory on competition is that it provides a way for me to test (and to better) myself. When I am preparing for a competition, I work at my craft. I put in the extra effort to build the excellence into my performance. When it was in partnership with my horse, I was also building connection and communication between us so that we could perform as a team. Now,in speaking, the goal is in building connection and communication with my audience.

Competition for me is also about facing fear. It gets easier over time to put myself in the cross-hairs and face criticism. I am as guilty as anyone of doing some of my best performances from the bleachers and being critical of those who are out there doing the work. Being out there demands that I walk the talk and lead by example.

When I am on stage at speaking competitions, I sometimes have flashes of loneliness. During competition, I am accustomed to having my horse with me to reassure me. I combat that by speaking about my experiences with horses so that they are there with me in spirit if not in body. I do what I need to do to comfort myself so that I can step into the performance confidently.

Competition is not about winning ribbons or trophies. If I have performed well or have learned an important lesson, I have won. There are times when I am disappointed by the results – when I feel that I should have placed better. That has led me to another understanding about competition. The results are the judges’ opinions at that time, not a permanent commentary on my performance. If the judge does not appreciate me or my horse, that does not mean that my horse is not a quality animal.

Competition provides an opportunity for me to be evaluated using someone else’s criteria – to get someone else’s opinion. I may or may not agree with their opinion. In any case, it gives me information to consider for future performances. It is unlikely that no one would agree with the judge. With that said, I must weigh the judge’s opinion with my own, and ensure that it is in keeping with my values before I make changes.

Ultimately, my opinion of myself and my performance is more important than that of the judge. However, the evaluation gives me an opportunity to hone my skills further than I could if I had only my own opinion to base it for. For me, that is the value of competition.

Wishing you all the courage to step out on your own personal stage.

Photo courtesy of Suzanne Brown.

Jocelyn Hastie

Sympathy and empathy

I have become very interested in distinguishing between these concepts, and feeling out where I fit in on the scale. I love Brene Brown’s work on this, and include the video below for your consideration:

When I was undergoing treatment and recovery, I found that people tried very hard to make me feel better. They tried to help me look on the bright side. Unfortunately, many times I felt like my suffering was being minimized by their attempts to cheer me up. You see, at my lowest point, I was being tube fed via nasogstric tube and couldn’t swallow so much as one tiny pill via mouth, my taste buds were fried from radiation and everything tasted like swamp (at best), and I was so fatigued that the 14 steps from my basement to main floor seemed like a mountain. I did not want to hear that at least I was alive because I wasn’t really sure that “alive” was a better choice.

“This, too, shall pass” became my mantra. I made a deal with Spirit that if things didn’t improve in two months, I was prepared to check out of this particular chassis and hoped that those I loved would understand why I had made that choice. It turned out that Spirit had a plan for my recovery and my check-out time would be delayed.

What do I recommend you do for someone who is in a very dark place?

1. If you can do it from a place of compassion, offer them a shoulder to lean on. Work through your own “stuff” so that you can show up with a genuine desire to help rather than out of a sense of guilt. Acknowledge your own feelings about their situation  – know that they are not contagious. If you can’t do that, let them know that you’re thinking about them from a distance.
2. Make a specific offer of help. Can I bring you supper? Is Tuesday or Wednesday better? Do you need a ride to the doctor? Can I walk your dog? General offers like, “Call me if you need something” are not particularly helpful if the patient is overwhelmed. They will seldom call, and if they do and you can’t help, they will probably not call again.
3. “Comfort in, dump out” – See http://articles.latimes.com/2013/apr/07/opinion/la-oe-0407-silk-ring-theory-20130407 for details. Don’t expect the patient to comfort you. They have enough on their own plates.

We are all different in the way we deal with crises. These suggestions would have been a help to me, but may not work for your loved ones. If you wonder what they need, ask them. If they cry while they tell you, don’t rush to “do something”, but instead listen to their angst. They may not have had someone who could listen without passing judgement or offering advice.

Wishing you all comfort, especially those in the path of the hurricanes in Florida and wildfires in Montana.

Jocelyn Hastie

 

 

They Never Know It’s Them

I have been helping some dear friends with their horses. We ride Peruvian Horses – hot-blooded Spanish horses that have a lot of “enthusiasm”. They are very forward-moving horses, and sometimes intimidate riders, especially those that are not used to that kind of energy.

You see, horses never understand that their rider is nervous because of them. They never think that they would be the source of their rider’s anxiety. Horses know only that their rider, their leader, their senior partner, is nervous. A well-trained horse looks to their rider for direction, and horses feel our energy when we ride. When the rider is nervous, the horse picks up on that anxiety, and begins to look for the “monsters under the bed” that are making the rider nervous. This snowball of anxiety is a challenge for both the rider and the horse. The more anxious the rider gets, the more they set off the nervousness of their horse.

Lately, I have been thinking about all the times that my fear gets in my way and pollutes the energy that I could be using to progress towards my own good and my own goals. The times I have a great deal of power surrounding me, waiting to do my bidding, and I squander that power through my fear just as surely as anxiety about a nervous horse ruins what could otherwise be a good ride. When I am fearful, I hold myself back just as surely as my nervousness affects my horseback riding. My support, like my horse, is waiting for me to step forward calmly and peacefully, and let the beauty of the ride unfold.

ADDENDUM: Since I published this yesterday, I have continued to think on the theme and realized there was another way this concept is transferable to humans. Sometimes, I have people in my life who “never know it’s them”. Sometimes, I’ve been that person. When do we continue to repeat patterns in our lives, and fail to become accountable and change the things that allow those patterns to continue? I feel that the cancer diagnosis I had was a symptom of the universe demanding that my patterns change for my own good. I invite you to watch for the times when you don’t know (or won’t acknowledge) that your actions have contributed to a problem. I know I’ll be thinking about that today.

Warm blessings on you all.

Jocelyn Hastie is a professional speaker whose search for stages led her to become the lead organizer of Ignite Foothills, a forum where speakers each have five minutes, with twenty slides advancing every fifteen seconds. Ignite Talks are held all over the world. She is also a certified practitioner of the Equine Gestalt Coaching Method.

The Gifts of Volunteering

 

I am an active volunteer with the students and on the board of directors of a nearby therapeutic riding program. I have loved horses for over twenty years, and this organization allows me to stretch my wings working with students that may not otherwise get the opportunity to be with these gentle, noble creatures.

I have been amazed at the growth opportunities I have had to stretch my skills as an Equine Gestalt Coach without being the instructor.  Supporting the students directly while the instructor provides the programs has tested my ability to relate with others that face some challenges in their daily lives.

I have learned from the students who are so enthusiastic about the opportunities they have to ride and to connect with the horses, instructors and volunteers. I have learned from the caregivers who bring the students to the barn. I have learned from the horses. I watch their grace and patience as they serve the students who are feeling like “ordinary kids” when they are in the saddle. I have learned from the other volunteers who give their time selflessly. I have learned from the instructors who have the knowledge and techniques to help the students learn new riding skills. I have learned from the other board and executive members who have so much to share.

The students have a wonderful time with the horses. The smiles are deep and genuine. My heart is full when I see them master something they have worked hard to learn. The connections that they make with the horses and volunteers is endearing. I am blessed to have the opportunity I do to make a difference in the lives of the students who bring us all together.

When you have the opportunity to serve, I invite you to pay attention to the blessings that you will receive.

Candor With Kindness

I had a difficult summer. The company I worked for since 2003 closed down without notice (or severance pay). A week later, the horse that had been my partner in the show ring, EGC coaching and my own journey through advanced stage cancer required me to step up and release him from the frail body that could no longer contain his massive spirit. I needed to find a new way to show up in the world, without the security blanket of a job that didn’t suit me, and without the quiet presence that had been a major source of my comfort (and frustration) for 22 years.

I thought cancer diagnosis and treatment had taught me resilience. It turned out I had more lessons to learn. I am beginning to accept that the classroom never closes. I have struggled to find out where I belong. I have done lots of research, laid lots of “track”, and yet nothing seemed to be gelling into something that would work for me and allow me to make the difference in the world I intend to.

I woke up in the middle of the night a couple of weeks ago with the concept I’m now putting together as keynotes, workshops and seminar series. “Candor With Kindness” is the concept that I will be teaching. These days, it seems that the balance between honesty and empathy is often strained. I knew the title, and I knew what “candor” stood for.

The CAN goes together, of course. Caring, Acceptance and Nurturance. Acceptance is beyond tolerance – it is welcoming the other.

The D is for dedication. Dedication both to one another and to identifiable, shared goals.

The O is for observation and objectivity – developing the ability to lift ourselves out of the emotion and witness what is happening.

The R is for respect. This is the foundation, the fundamental requirement on which everything rests. The respect must be mutual, and comprehensive. Respect for oneself, and for others.

The development of these programs is nearing completion. I am passionate about getting the message out. I am teaching that which I am most eager to learn. I feel divinely guided in sharing these concepts. Things feel like they’re coming together. And I’m feeling much better, thank you!!