As communicators, what is at risk of we do not speak out? I ask this of my clients all the time. We often focus on fears around possible negative outcomes if we DO speak out: What if I get fired? What if they laugh at me? What if she leaves me? What if I am shamed? Cast out? Abandoned? What if I hurt them? What if I say it wrong? What if…

All of these are valid fears and potentially life-altering answers will come back to us.

And yet…What is at risk if we do not speak up?

What is at risk in our homes, in our...Read on.

When Charles and Elizabeth Handy were a young couple, they lived in Malaysia where Charles worked for an oil company.

He was doing everything “right”—married, a stable job, with plans for children, a house, the whole package.

One day, his canny and remarkable wife, Elizabeth asked him a few questions he had never asked himself:

• Are you genuinely happy?

• Do you love your work? Are you proud of what you do?

• Is our marriage together what you dreamed of?

To each question Charles answered, “It’s OK.”

Liz would have none of that. She knew...Read on.

Sometimes we are afraid to ask important questions because we do not want to know the answers. This is common in close relationships, as well as at work. And if the status quo is fine, then why take the risk? However, sometimes we need to summon the courage to ask these questions in order for a relationship to grow, in order for new opportunities to arise. Of course, we risk something when we ask questions that open us up to others. We may be rejected, we may get a clear “no” in response, the relationship may not be strong enough to bear the answers, we may change the nature of the relationship; we may feel exposed, vulnerable, even ashamed. There are many very good reasons not to ask certain questions. But what is at stake if we do not? We have to ask this of ourselves, as well. What do we risk if we never put into words those things we most would love to have? We might risk having a deeper relationship, a promotion, a connection, an opportunity.

This week, make a list ...Read on.

I. Thou shalt not hide from the audience but shall open to them, share with them, and pull your hair back so that it is not obscuring your expressive face and eyes.

II. Thou shalt not…Read on.

Every December 31st, our family does some sort of small ritual. Some years we give each other a wish for the next year: ”My wish for you is to find time to paint,” “My wish for you is to find balance and time to rest.” This year we each put forth: one thing we are grateful for, one thing we want to let go of, and one thing we want to invite in. My son, Luke, jumped in: “I’ll go first. I want to invite in risk.” Wow. We all stopped. Wow! Just saying those words sounded risky! I was startled by the simplicity and candor, the clarity and self-knowledge. How courageous it is to consciously choose to go towards those things that scare us—to risk. To risk in order to grow, to do good, to expand ourselves, to experience more, to connect, to do the right thing, to be vulnerable, to love. I was a little jealous, honestly, of that courage. I blurted …Read on.

Where are the sheep? The New Zealand farmer who had lived his entire life on this piece of land noticed one day that the sheep were disappearing. The family looked far and wide, but found no clues—no carcasses, no wolves, no traps. It was not until the farmer almost fell into a massive sink-hole that he realized he had to look down in order to solve the mystery of the missing sheep. Alas.

When my husband and I traveled in New Zealand, we went on a (crazy) adventure rappelling 300 feet into that sink hole, past the ferns sprouting from the sides, into the mist, and landing at the lip of an underground river. The farmer now gives tours of his “Lost World.”

To get to the root of things, to unearth hidden mysteries, we have the courage and patience to discover the Lost World. Many questions we ask are horizontal—they keep the conversation safely in our sight-lines…Read on…