Anniversaries are not just dates on a calendar, they are written in and on our bodies.  Maybe you also mark anniversaries with a bodily manifestation.  Or perhaps you feel particularly disembodied around times of remembering.

These Cheer-Up Cheryls have a gift of positivity and are usually driven by connection; they care about the other person and desperately want to make things “better”.

But they end up sounding tone-deaf and forcing the other person to either put up a happy facade or to shut down into silence. 

Many of you know me from a stage or a conference room, where I appear professional and talk easily about empathy and human-centric skills.  But in today’s newsletter, I want to give you a snapshot of a younger, desperate and grieving Liesel.

Shame is a crappy motivator. Shame can get you short-term results, but in the long term, it demeans your people and undercuts your authority as a leader. Communicating boundaries and expectations with trust shows confident, caring leadership.

How can you support someone in your life or on your team as they go through the death of a pet? Here are just a few of the meaningful gestures that our community sent our way after we lost Tozer.  Maybe they can inspire you as you consider care for those that have lost a pet.

If you want to build sustainable cultures of care, you need to learn kindness towards those pieces/versions of yourself that you are *currently* meeting with disdain or dread.

Showing up for others means showing up in a way that matters to them…and this sometimes involves setting aside your ego.

“No, I think it is just as likely that this year, my marriage will fall apart, one of my children will get scabies and another will get sick and die of leukemia.”
 
I remember spitting those words out in late December, answering a well-meaning friend who asked me what I was hoping for in the coming year and if I really believed that God had good things in store for me.

It happens on the sidelines of lacrosse games or standing in line at the grocery:  a seemingly innocent conversation starter from a new friend, perfect stranger, or casual acquaintance.
 
“And how many children do you have?”
 
How to answer?  As a parent of a dead child, I teeter on the edge of my response. 

I was back in the bedroom when I heard the breaking:  ceramic crashed against the tile.  I knew in a moment:  it was one of the birds. 

In the grey and grinding months after our daughter, Mercy Joan, died, my mother gave me a set of seven ceramic birds.  “A reminder that you will always be a family of seven.”  I displayed them on our mantle…poignant, a little cheesy, and unfortunately vulnerable to the daily antics of Magnus.
 
I heaved myself into the hallway, emotion rising, and found a stunned Magnus, frozen in horror over the wreckage of the birds. 

I can remember the first Mother's Day after my daughter, Mercy Joan, died.  Everything inside of me felt out of step with the holiday. 

You can use emotional mirroring to build connection at work. Many people feel uncertain of how to respond when someone is experiencing strong emotions. “What do I do?” or “What do I say?” When another person is feeling mad/sad/hurt/overwhelmed/happy, they want to know that you “see” them. This is where emotional mirroring helps.