Look for the Dandelions

 

A Conversation on the Student-Athlete Experience, Mental Health, and becoming your best

 
 

Praxis Athlete sat down with Greer Gill and Adele Iacobucci for a conversation on student-athlete mental health. The University of Virginia field hockey student-athletes are campus ambassadors for Morgan’s Message, an organization that “strives to eliminate the stigma surrounding mental health within the student-athlete community and equalize the treatment of physical and mental health in athletics.”

 
Photos courtesy of @adele_iacobucci and @greergill instagram

Photos courtesy of @adele_iacobucci and @greergill instagram


Greer Gill doesn’t think her earliest field hockey memory is iconic.

“I was in second grade,” she says, “ and I remember - this isn't anything iconic - we were behind the high school and we'd love to pick the dandelions and see who could get the most dandelions by the end of practice.”

The memory isn’t the sort of iconicness that we typically celebrate in sport. It’s not a vision of heroic prowess or perfection, but perhaps, it embodies something that we too often forget in the high pressure environment of elite college sport, the simple and unremarkable joy of being on the field with your friends ‘looking for dandelions.’ 

It is the humanness embodied by Gill’s first field hockey memory that needs to be held on to - and dare I say celebrated -  as athletes embark upon the fall quest for greatness in college athletics.

Exploring the Relationship between Sport and Self

I went to college, and it was like, ‘Whoa, okay, this is a whole new ballgame.’ You go from being a big fish in a small pond to a small fish in a big pond.
— Greer Gill

An athlete’s relationship to sport can be complex. It is never static. It evolves within each environment, with each new experience, interaction, and competition. For some, the field of play, once known for fun and freedom, can become a place of frustration and fear. The quest for competitive growth can morph quickly into an overly self-critical ladder of comparison. Where once in high school an athlete stepped off the field of competition with a sense of completeness, in college there can be a sense of ‘never good enough,’ a never satisfied quest to prove oneself. As an athlete invests more time, energy, effort, and soul into sport, the line between the person and the performer, between who the athlete is and how well they do, can become blurry.

Photos courtesy of @greergill instagram

Photos courtesy of @greergill instagram

This summer junior midfielder Adele Iacobucci was selected to the United States Women’s National Team. She speaks of her evolving relationship with the sport.  “I always look at field hockey as kind of an outlet. And it's fun for me. I love it.” She reflected.  “But as I’ve gotten older, it has taken up more and more of my life, and that’s something I’ve struggled with too, because sometimes it feels like a job. That's where I'm trying to figure out how to balance it better.” 

While Iacobucci speaks to the balance between the work and play aspect of sport, Gill identifies the transition from high school to college as one of the most challenging in her relationship with field hockey. “I've had some ups and downs with the sport,” she says. “From first grade to senior year, it was always my constant. I didn't really know anything different, and then I went to college, and it was like, ‘Whoa, okay, this is kind of a whole new ballgame.’ You go from being a big fish in a small pond to a small fish in a big pond.” 

In the midst of this changing relationship, it is easy for an athlete to forget to make space for the most important conversation within sport. A conversation that begins with a simple question, “how are you,” and continues with an honest response, “I’m struggling.”

Dancing the Fine Line of Criticism, Comparison and Compassion

The expectation of the college experience, you know that age-old message that  ‘college is supposed to be the best time of your life,’ can get in the way of accepting the reality that college can be a really hard time in life too. A student athlete, who is likely living on their own for the first time,  is pushed, pulled, and prodded a million different directions - academically, athletically, mentally, socially and emotionally. Behind the performance and the desire to please sometimes lives a nagging fear that if they aren’t performing well enough, they will be replaced. Iacobucci explores the expectation within the environment: “Coming into college  you have a certain expectation of yourself because you've always been the best,” she said. “In college  everyone is so good, so even if you're doing well, it can feel  like nothing is ever good enough because if you're not getting better, there’s always someone else who can step up and take your spot.”

I think a lot of student-athletes are their own worst critics. That’s personally how I feel. It’s a big struggle to find myself within such a competitive environment.
— Adele Iacobucci

The tenor of her response is a harsh yet honest reflection of the college experience for many student-athletes. As students, they  ruthlessly compete for academic and social prestige, while as athletes, they  compete for the prestige of playing time and prominence of championships. The relentless rigor of competition leads to constant critical self-analysis. “There  is obviously the pressure of other people,” Iacobucci states, “ but I think a lot of student-athletes are their own worst critics. That’s personally how I feel. It’s a big struggle to find myself within such a competitive environment.” 

Photos courtesy of @adele_iacobucci instagram

Photos courtesy of @adele_iacobucci instagram

While being critical of performance is an important part of growth, exploring and defining oneself through social comparison can be a dangerously slippery slope, especially within elite environments. “When you are surrounded by top athletes,” Iaccobucci states, “ you can become an even harsher critic of yourself. You begin comparing, saying this person is better than me at this or that. Then as you become more critical, you start to work yourself up over things.” 

For Gill and Iacobucci, one of the hardest parts of the student-athlete experience isn’t getting worked up over things, but rather it’s not having the time, space or support to recognize and work through what’s going on inside of you.

“I think my biggest thing is being able to actually identify my emotions, and why I'm feeling them.”  Gill said. “I used to not realize when I was struggling, and then, when I did realize it, I immediately wanted to fix whatever I was feeling,” she reflects. “I learned from a sports psychologist to just sit and be okay with not being okay. Once I sit with it, then I can make changes. But I have to sit with it for a while, and in college that's a really hard thing to do.”

For Iacobucci, it’s the pace of college life that challenges her. “What affects my mental health the most is when I’m overwhelmed, and feel like everything is happening all at once,” she shares.  “It's go go go constantly - school, hockey, life.  It's hard to sit and deal with stuff, because there's always something that's going on that you could or should be doing.” 

Clare Kehoe, Director of Morgan’s Message Education Program (MMEP) concurs with Iacobucci on the myriad of demands a student-athlete faces. “When talking with our ambassadors, anxiety and stress come up in almost every conversation.” Kehoe says. “College, even without playing a sport, is a challenging environment that can produce extreme stress amongst students when juggling an academic load, social life, and life away from home. Add a demanding full-time job (your sport) to your schedule, and athletes are expected to be “on” at almost all hours.”

In the busy-ness of day-to-day college life, and the consummate effort to be “on"at all times, hiding the struggle can seem like the best and easiest thing to do, but it comes with a cost, Gill shares: “Sometimes, it’s easier to be busy and not feel or talk about whatever is going on. But if you don’t take the time to be like ‘hey, something is going on here,’ it eventually catches up to you.”

Being Real with Yourself leads to Becoming Your Best Self

It’s not just about getting real with the world around you, it’s about getting real with yourself. In the fall of 2020, Gill had to sit out the early portion of the college field hockey season for medical reasons. “Field hockey was my constant and then, all of a sudden, it wasn’t,” she recalls. “I started to ask myself, what is my purpose? Who am I? What am I doing? I wasn’t in a good mental state. I didn’t know if I wanted to keep playing.” 

To be the best version of yourself, you have to recognize and take care of the state of your mental health.
— Adele Iacobucci

It was a vulnerable pause for Gill as she took time to focus on her mental, emotional and physical health. “It's hard to be vulnerable, especially as an athlete. It’s hard to accept when something isn’t going well. You want to suck it up, put your uniform on, go out there and pretend nothing is going on. But the stuff bottled inside eventually comes out.” When she talks about sharing her struggle, she says, “It was hard to make that leap, and admit that I was feeling something that wasn’t the best feeling.”

Iacobucci faced a similarly challenging time this summer while playing field hockey with the USA U21 team who was preparing for the Junior Pan American Games. On the experience, she says, “It’s hard to be real with yourself. It can be a really vulnerable feeling to admit that you are struggling, or can’t do all the things that you want to do. Sharing it with others is even harder. You feel like you are letting people down. But in the long run, it helps.”

Ultimately, for Gill and Iacobucci, focusing on mental health isn’t just a buzz word or trend, it is  a way of becoming the best students, athletes, teammates, and humans they can be. “If you are ignoring what’s going on inside of you, mentally and emotionally, you can’t be the best version of yourself. You can’t grow as an athlete. You have to take a step back, become aware of what you are feeling.” Gill shares. 

 Iacobucci emphasizes, “To be the best version of yourself, you have to recognize and take care of the state of your mental health.”

Awareness, Community and Advocacy through Morgan’s Message

Gill and Iacobucci stand with Morgan’s parents and ambassadors from JMU following the UVA vs. JMU game (photo courtesy of @morgans_message_uva )

Gill and Iacobucci stand with Morgan’s parents and ambassadors from JMU following the UVA vs. JMU game (photo courtesy of @morgans_message_uva )

As they navigate their own unique  journey’s as student-athletes pursuing ACC and NCAA championships, Gill and Iacobucci have become champions of another kind too, champions of mental health. As ambassadors for Morgan’s Message, an organization created after the death of Duke Lacrosse student-athlete Morgan Rodgers, Gill and Iacobucci started the University of Virginia chapter in early 2021.

“The biggest thing that we want to do is create a community where people feel safe and comfortable to share their experiences,” Gill shares.   “We want to  grow the conversation by sharing stories and amplifying voices,” Iacobucci adds. “We want it to feel natural for people. That’s the main thing, we want it to be natural,” she emphasizes.

“Empathy is critical to any conversation about mental health and wellness,” Clare Kehoe, Director of MMEP states. “Oftentimes we forget that you cannot see beneath the surface and likely don’t know what someone is really going through mentally. Unfortunately, the mental health stigma is still so real. If someone is courageous enough to open up about their personal experiences, validate them. We must continue to support and encourage those who are brave enough to let us see beneath the surface.”

To make mental health a natural part of the conversation, the ambassadors hope to inspire their peers at Virginia to make space for honest conversation within their respective teams. “We want each team to have their own ambassador who can help guide conversations on mental health within their team, because every team is different and has unique struggles. A huge part of a team's growth is when teammates are able to share what they're going through,” says Gill.

Surround yourself with people and things that you love, and know that it’s okay to seek help. Take small steps. Talk to a friend, or sports psychologist or someone you trust. Just share what you’re going through. And you’ll see other people are there for you. You are not alone.
— Greer Gill

Through its education program (MMEP), Morgan’s Message supports motivated student-athletes, like Gill and Iacobucci, to become active leaders and advocates for student-athlete mental health on their campus and in their communities. “We are lucky at the University of Virginia, because we have two full time sports psychologists. A lot of schools don’t have that. But even though we have two, that isn’t always enough. We want to advocate for more,” said Iacobucci.

As they build their community and advocate for more resources to support student athlete mental health, they hope their peers will remember a few important things. “When you are struggling, remember that you're not alone,” Gill says. “Surround yourself with people and things that you love, and know that it's okay to seek help - whatever help means to you.” She adds, “Take small steps. Talk to a friend, or sports psychologist or someone you trust. Just share what you're going through. And you'll see other people are there for you. You are not alone.”

By taking small steps and sharing her struggle, Gill learned to listen to what was going on inside of her. Finding her way back to the field last season, she recalls “When I got back on the field, I realized how much I had missed it, and how fun it was. I missed those moments with teammates, the thrill of going out and playing a game. It's something you can't describe. It’s so pure.” 

Perhaps, the joy she found competing again is a homage to her first field hockey memory, and the joy of being on the field with her friends ‘looking for the dandelions.’

Like Gill, as we embark upon the competitive quest for greatness, may we all remember to look for the dandelions and celebrate the simple joys of sport.

Elevate the conversation

Gill and Iacobucci suggest these three actions high school and college student athletes can take right now to elevate the conversation on mental health in athletics.

  • Apply to be at Morgan's Message Ambassador (https://morgansmessage.org/education-program)

  • Build a support group within your community

  • Check in with someone you love

If you’d like to donate to Morgan’s Message click here. For resources on mental health support, click here.

Lost and Found in Sport

 

This is dedicated to all the field hockey coaches out there. I see you and celebrate you.

 
I’ve lost myself and found myself time and again in an unrelenting passion for the sport. It’s not a love-hate relationship. It’s a lost-found relationship. I lose myself in the expectation the game, and find myself in the love of sport.
— Rachel Dawson
Photo courtesy of Melissa Dudek.

Photo courtesy of Melissa Dudek.

In my sisters old bedroom in New Jersey, a painting hangs on the wall. The words scribbled across the watercolored backdrop read, “We lose ourselves in the things we love. We find ourselves there, too.” 

That quote hits me in my bones because my life has been wrestling match with the sport I love. I’ve lost myself and found myself time and again in an unrelenting passion for the sport of field hockey. It’s not a love-hate relationship. It’s a lost-found relationship. I lose myself in the expectation of the game, and find myself in the love of the sport.

When I hung up the stick and jersey after the 2016 Olympics, I thought that the ebbs and flows of this love, and the dream that had kept me awake at night since I was 12 years old, would cease. For a year, I stepped away from the game, founded Praxis Athlete, wrote some, created some, dreamed some, lived some. I let life lap gently toward me. I slept well at night.

But I missed it. I missed the passion and intensity of the game. I missed the intimacy of the sport experience. I missed the slow, demanding march of growth and learning. I missed the quest, the build, the daring, the vulnerability, the relationships.  I missed the losing that came with the relentless quest to discover. I missed the wresting match.

So after a year of lapping in life, I made the decision to coach. I went to Virginia. I coached and loved it. I gave myself completely to it. Yet, the deeper I went into college coaching, the more I lost touch with myself - and the uniqueness of my talent, voice, and soul. I became an answer-giver rather than a question-explorer. I stopped writing and creating. I became the exact person that Praxis Athlete was developed for.

It seemed that the more I asked myself to ‘play the game,’ and be what I thought the world of college field hockey told me I needed to be in order to be a winner, the more I lost connection to myself, my passion, my curiosity and most of all, to the people I walked beside. 

I had stopped listening to the inner voice, and started measuring success by the crowd’s and critics standards. ”
— Rachel Dawson

I began to doubt my ability to coach because I knew, deep down, that I was losing touch with what lit me up about coaching - the real and vulnerable connection to people. I had put myself in a box, the same box that trapped me as an athlete. I lived in fear of not living up to expectations. I had stopped listening to the inner voice, and started measuring success by the crowd’s and critics standards.  I started to compare and judge because the culture of college coaching made me feel like I had to either climb the ladder or fade into irrelevance. 

People kept asking, “Do you want to be a head coach?” I hated the question. I wanted to invest in people and help them become as good as they could possibly be. My desire was to learn, grow, and create, and from there, see what was possible. The expectation of becoming a head coach crowded out my desire to learn and grow. The expectation wasn’t only external. It was internal. I forced it upon myself to fit in. 

I was shoulder-deep in the hockey hustle, when Covid happened, and life paused. In the pause, I reflected on life and got brutally honest with myself. I wasn’t at my best. I wasn’t growing, or thriving. I was doing the very thing that scared me the most - I was playing small. I wasn’t being led by my dreams. I was being pushed by my fears.

I started to write again, to ask questions again, to put myself out there again. In the exploration, I realized that I’d gotten comfortable with being comfortable. I was simply playing along. I wasn’t serving the world or my talents honestly. I was ‘playing the game’ - and in that game, I’d lost myself. Again.

So I made a choice to do the thing that I knew I needed to do. I chose to find myself. I chose to remember my soulfulness, and in remembering, I remembered what all those years of wrestling field hockey taught me - because I lost myself in coaching, I’d likely find myself in it, too. 

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Discover Within, Expand Beyond

Rachel

The Power of Stories

 

This post is dedicated to our stories - the ones we tell, and the ones we don’t.

 
 
The stories we tell shape our reality. They are the floor we stand on and the ceiling we rise to.
 
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Stories give life meaning. They give us a lens to view the world. They connect us to ideas, to people, and to higher powers. They provide a framework to understand, share and make sense of our experiences, cultures, and histories. They invigorate us, comfort us, teach us, compel us, contain us, and give us context to create. 

Stories are powerful for two reasons - first, we believe them, and secondly, because we believe them we create from them. The stories we tell shape our reality. They are the floor we stand on and the ceiling we rise to. They are the walls of the house we live in - a shelter and a prison. For better or worse, whether true or false, stories help us understand who we are, where we come from, where we belong, and where we are going. The word identity comes from the Latin word for ‘same’. Our stories, like our identities, are the container that bind the threads of ‘sameness.’ The experiences that don’t fit the container of sameness are excluded from the telling and mostly forgotten. Those forgotten experiences though, reveal a measure of truth that sameness blinds us too. When we begin to remember and speak to the forgotten moments, like for example during the #MeToo  movement, we face an important decision – adapt the narrative of our story to include what’s been forgotten or ignore it. 

Ignorance can be bliss, but it can also lead to death because the truth of a story lives not only in what it tells the world, but also in what it hides from the world. A story like a person or a relationship needs to evolve to survive. A stagnant story is delusional and dangerous. So we must look deeply at our stories – what they hold, and what they hide. We must dismantle and deconstruct the parts that no longer serve us. We must retell our stories in light of what’s long been hidden or misunderstood.  

 It’s scary to reveal what’s imperfect about our most beloved tales because we spend so much time, energy and money constructing, maintaining and protecting them. Our image and reputation are caught up in them. So how do we cope when confronted with the seeming death of the stories that we hold most dear? Stories like the American dream, college, equality, marriage, success, religion? What do we do when we begin to see the fault in the fairy tales that formed us, the dreams that gave us the means to survive? 

 We grieve. We mourn. We accept the loss, we thank the story for what it gave us, what it taught us, how it held us, and saved us. We grieve it, and we say good-bye. We let it go, and in the space that remains, we expand. We tell a new story, a better story, a more complete, honest and beautiful story. 

 I encourage you to look deeply at the stories you tell yourself. What do those stories hold and what do they hide? What do they make possible, and what do they prevent? 

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Discover Within, Expand Beyond,

Rachel

Another Way

 

This is dedicated to the competitors courageous enough to let there be another way. 

 
There are two types of competitors, the comparative competitor and the compassionate one. The former views its opponents as enemies of achievement, the ladder respects its foe as a partner in the dance of progress. Both play to win.
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My whole life I’d considered myself ‘a winner’ but winning games came at a heavy cost to my mental and emotional wellness. My relationship to competition wasn’t healthy or sustainable. I was a thriving performer, but not a thriving person.

For the last four years I’ve been on a spiritual inquisition into the true nature of competition. The inquisition began in my own heart, in a feeling that there had to be another way, beyond the way I’d experienced as yet, into the true competitive joy and exhilaration of sport. 

My whole life I'd considered myself 'a winner', but winning games had always come at a heavy cost to my mental and emotional wellness. My relationship to competition wasn't healthy, or sustainable. I was a thriving performer, but not a thriving person. I was separate from grace, from myself, and in desperate search of an experience that winning, or being good, never satisfied. I longed for a deeper connection to life and those around me. A sense of unshakeable purpose, an identity that wasn’t attached to the thing I did, to beating an opponent, but to the aliveness of the competitive experience. 

Letting there be 'another way' meant stepping into an abyss of unknowns without knowing the way out. It took courage, and vulnerability to face myself, and the suffering that I'd created and bottled up over 25 years of competing without grace. 

I was vexed by questions - did I have to sacrifice my desire for greatness and my will to win to experience connection and happiness?  Was there a way to be a happy, kind, see-the-big-picture person and a fierce, powerful, do-whatever-it-takes competitor? What did it mean to compete with grace? Was there way to pursue excellence and victory without being overcome by the competitive quest?

These questions, and my willingness to explore them, led me through the abyss. The biggest transformation for me came in how I relate to competition, and sport. 

Growing up, my family called me ‘the Spaz.’ After games, win or lose (and sometimes during them) I threw huge, embarrassing, emotional tantrums. I sobbed hysterically on the pitchers mound after losing the u10 town softball championship. I threw my jersey at a coach during overtime of a 6th grade basketball game. I screamed at teammates, stuck my tongue out to the rowdy crowd. Get the idea? 

I was, and still am, a passionate person. Passion made me tough, demanding, and a little bit crazy. I wore my passion in my body. As a kid, I put my entire being into sports. I played with desperation. Life or death, that's how I saw the game. I don't know why I felt that way. At 8 years old, I struggled to deal with the extreme energetic build-up of competition. The spazzes, as ridiculous and embarrassing as they were (thank God for my patient and compassionate mother) were simply raw and unfiltered energetic releases.

In time, I began to realize that spazzing wasn’t exactly  acceptable for a teenage girl. So, I defaulted to what I believe a lot people who can’t fully understand, express, channel or articulate their emotions default too - I became passive-aggressive. Moody, and unpredictable, the energy of passion swirled inside of me, and I was ashamed to express it, let alone feel it.

The chasm felt scary and not safe, so instead of exploring it, I hid. I hid in perfection. In depression. I  dimmed my gifts, dulled my personality. I bullied myself. Isolated myself. I tried so hard to fit in, to be normal, to be calm, to be happy, to be easy, to be great, to be who I thought I should be. 

There was another side to me too. I was kind, compassionate, intuitive and deeply curious . There was a chasm between the boisterous, competitive, wild me and the kind, intuitive, compassionate me.  I felt like I had to make a choice between being fierce, direct, and aggressive or quiet, intuitive, and kind. I couldn't be both, I thought. It was either too much or not enough. 

The chasm felt scary and not safe, so instead of exploring it, I hid. I hid in perfection. In depression. I  dimmed my gifts, dulled my personality. I bullied myself. Isolated myself. I tried so hard to fit in, to be normal, to be calm, to be happy, to be easy, to be great, to be who I thought I should be. 

Competition and training became both my emotional sanctuary - the place were I was free to be wild and creative -  and an emotional attachment.  I hid in the roller coaster thrills and moods of competition. I hid in the results. I did well in school, in sports, in any domain I choose to do well in, and behind the performance was a lost, and divided, kid. I judged myself with every win, loss, mistake and critique.

As a kid, I didn't feel safe to explore the chasm of questions inside of me, and as I got older, I tended toward ignorance because I didn’t have the courage to admit it to myself that I was crazed by competition, obsessed with the exhilaration and validation of winning. For better or worse, the roller coaster was the only way I'd ever known, and until four years ago, I was too scared to admit that there could be another way. 

A compassionate competitor focuses on how to pursue winning in a way that uplifts and inspires all those courageous enough to participate in the dance - the opponent, the referees, the spectators, the parents. It means recognizing and appreciating all the parts that make the game possible, and playing your part in way that expands possibility of the game.  

It was one thing to admit there could be another way to succeed, and another thing to give myself space to explore another way. I mean, I was 9 years, and 2 Olympics deep into my international hockey career. To explore another way, meant letting go of desires and dreams on the hockey field that were rooted in comparison, and my one-track measure of success. It meant letting myself feel and suffer, without trying to fix it or make it better. It meant getting quieter. I listened more, and I listened differently. It meant offering myself the gift of compassion. Compassion does not mean weak, or soft. It simply means to suffer with, or to share in suffering. When I acknowledged my own suffering, I became free to compete from a purer place, not from comparison or judgement, from compassion. 

A compassionate competitor doesn't diminish the desire to win. In high performance environments, you have to play to win. You have to want to be the best you can be. What matters is how you compete, and where you compete from. A compassionate competitor focuses on how to pursue winning in a way that uplifts and inspires all those courageous enough to participate in the dance - the opponent, the referees, the spectators, the parents. It means recognizing and appreciating all the parts that make the game possible, and playing your part in way that expands possibility of the game.  

The last four years taught me something invaluable about life, and it is this - There is always another way if you are courage enough to let there be another way. When I look back on my playing career, the thing I am most proud of is the person I let myself become. That person always believes there is another way.  

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Discover Within, Expand Beyond,

Rachel

 

 

The Unseen

 

This is dedicated to the visionary's - the ones who have experienced the dark side of inspiration and passion, who've known madness, and created new and better realities from it.

 
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6 Attributes of the Visionary Leader

Action Style: Determination

Endurance

Strategic Analysis

Resilience

Culture / Community

Purpose

Natural Cycle


The greatness of their vision is born in the darkness of potential. They see what is hidden. They see the light within the dark, what lives beyond the edge, what no one else can see. 

A visionary sees what cannot be seen. They see in the dark, eyes brimming with madness as they explore the furthest edges of creativity, purpose, and genius. They submerge themselves in the quest to understand and reveal the deepest reaches of life. The visionary sees the unseen and creates new realities from it.

We know some of them by name - Billie Jean, Steve, Michael, Muhammad, Martin Luther, Winston, Abraham, Thomas. They changed the world. They changed the way we live, and the way we understand ourselves. And yet, for how much they've shaped our understanding, we don't fully understand them. Their passion is fierce, their devotion unrelenting. Their action, determined. They don't serve people, they serve purposes. They don’t play by the same rules as the rest of the world - they innovate and create a whole new set of rules that changes the reality we all live in. The greatness of their vision is born in the darkness of potential. They see what is hidden. They see the light within the dark, what lives beyond the edge, what no one else can see. 

The visionary is resilient in their service to the vision. They are set upon outliving their opponent, and their opponent is not a person, their opponent is the darkness, the madness, the un-manifested vision. It is only when the vision is brought to life that others can begin to understand the madness of the visionary. When others can experience the tangible result of the leader's devotion to their vision, can they appreciate the genius of their madness.

We all possess the power of vision. 


 
It was visiting hours. I stood in the middle of a the psych ward. I was looking out the window - furious and crestfallen. I didn’t know what to say. I loved her, and I also knew I couldn’t help her. I turned around, and  looked her straight in the eyes. 
She stared back at me. 
"You have a choice." I said. "We all have a choice." 
I opened both my palms, as if I was holding something in them.
"Power. It's right here (opening my palms.) It's raw. It doesn't have any rules. It can create and destroy. You choose what you do with it. No one can choose for you. I can't chose for you right now. I wish I could. I know your choice feels made for you. It’s not. You have a choice. Create or Destroy. I’ve been there. I’ve seen the madness and darkness. I know how it feels. I also know you have a choice. So, choose. The power is always there, but you choose what you do with it. Whether you live or die. Create or destroy."
 

To see the light, we must feel the darkness. Then we must choose what to serve.

Greatness comes at a cost. To be great, to be truly visionary, we must be willing to dig into the depths of the unknown and unseen, to travel into the deepest reaches of passion without being consumed by the madness of the visions we see. We must choose - to create or destroy.

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Discover Within, Expand Beyond

Rachel

 

The Art of Coaching

 

This is dedicated to the artists out there. Remember its a dance, lead with your listening, and follow your passion. The rhythm will carry you. 

 
Without listening, action becomes motion. Movement lacks purpose, and power. Maintaining empathy, listening, and compassion in the high-stakes, fast-paced results driven environment of sport is one of the biggest challenges coaches face. 

The 6 Attributes of Dynamic Leadership

Agility

Situational Analysis

Initiative / Competiveness

Networks / Relationships

Task / Role Engagement


Coaching is a dynamic dance between disciplines. A coach is an educator, entrepreneur, artist, competitor, creator, mentor, and cultural alchemist.

If my 2 month foray into the wide and wonderful world of collegiate coaching has shown me anything, it is that the label coach is a huge misnomer. The role of ‘coach’ is way more complex than its name. Coaching is a dynamic dance between disciplines. A coach is an educator, entrepreneur, artist, competitor, creator, mentor, and cultural alchemist. A coach must be as honest, versatile, vulnerable and aware as the athletes they lead. 

Why? Because sport environments are incredibly dynamic and competitive. Constantly changing circumstances challenge coaches to be who they need to be, and for whom, in the exact moment they need to be it. It requires being tough when toughness is needed, calm when calmness is required, energetic when energy is demanded, and silent when silence is best. If they don’t respond timely and appropriately to the needs of the moment - if the response is too late, or too early, too harsh, or too meek, or to the wrong audience, the action, though well intended, lacks resonance, and rather than engaging stakeholders in the dance, it disengages them.

Moment by dynamic moment, they play the role life, and sport, demands of them, when it demands it. 

Ultimately, a coach is measured by their ability to deliver results .  But which results matters most, and to whom? Wins, championships, learning, excellence in the classroom, tradition, citizenship, community, service, career growth, player fulfillment/engagement, transfer rate, happiness, profitability? 

The greatest coaches seem to do it all. They deliver results in all domains. They make a masterpiece of every moment, and in doing so, each masterpiece becomes part and parcel of a greater miracle. Great coaches win championships in every moment. They create the impact that matters most in every situation. They weave miracles thread by invisible thread. Step by invisible step. Moment by dynamic moment. They play the role life, and sport, demands of them, when it demands it. 

To use the label ‘coach’ almost diminishes the actual responsibility these leaders undertake.  They don't just coach sport performance, they create environments for personal exploration, expression, experience, and excellence - safe spaces for athletes to engage in the often messy and uncomfortable process of growth. They balance the demands of various stakeholders while enriching robust cultures of learning and development. They manage teams, teach lessons, organize schedules, build, brand and sell programs, mentor individuals, modify behavior, analyze data, strategize systems, monitor finances,  and energize excellence. The great ones do it all while maintaining humility, discipline, and an unshakeable passion for their art. 

Traction in the Moment:

  • Listen for Specific Demands of the Situation
  • Understand Needs of people within situation
  • Focus on the Impact You Want to Create 
  • Act, Speak in alignment with that impact
  • Reflect on action and short/longterm impact

The secret to mastery in dynamic environments is maintaining traction and versatility within the situation. Aligning words and actions to meet the needs of the situation, and the people involved. Timing is a huge part of successful leadership - appropriate action in the the appropriate moment, which requires vigilant awareness and deep listening to the specific needs of the moment. 

Often, the more dynamic, competitive and results driven the environment, the more brashly we act, and re-act. Hyper-focus on, and desire for external results distracts leaders from pure listening. Without listening, action becomes motion. Movement lacks purposeful and powerful impact. Maintaining empathy, listening, and compassion in the high-stakes, fast-paced results driven environment of sport is one of the biggest challenge coaches face. 

It begs the question - are coaches provided adequate development opportunities  and resources to deliver the dynamic output necessary to ensure the robust performance and growth of the athletes they manage? To whom are coaches ultimately responsible - the athlete, parents, alumni, the university, society, spectators, the media? Does society drain and distract coaches from their ultimate responsibility - the development of the athlete? 

Being dynamic and versatile is not about being a chameleon, and changing colors, it about being a champion in every moment. You can’t be everything for everyone all the time. Be who and what is needed in the moment. Stay true to your art, lead with your listening, and trust the rhythm of your soul.

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Discover Within, Expand Beyond,

Rachel

For truth, be steady

 

This post is dedicated to the city of Charlottesville, all who feel misunderstood, and the people courageous enough to be steady and honest in the face of uncertainty.

 

6 Attributes OF THE STEADFAST LEADER:

Strength / Stability

Focus

Stress Response

Support

Values

Recovery


In Charlottesville, I sensed a certain mystery, an opportunity for the convergence of deep exploration, purposeful expression and positive impact. A place to bring together what had felt like the disparate pieces of myself.

A month ago, on what felt like a whim, I decided to take a coaching position at the University of Virginia. I knew very little about the town of Charlottesville before moving here. I’d heard about Thomas Jefferson, and the downtown mall, and the Shenandoah Mountains, yet beyond that, I knew, and appreciated very little of the profound intricacies of this town.

The relocation happened fast. Coaching field hockey wasn’t in my immediate career plan. I wanted to explore the personal development of athletes beyond the playing field. But in late July, I was desperate for a change of scenery. A fresh place to be inspired and build new opportunities and relationships - a space to renew my curiosity about who I was, and how I related to my gifts, interests, and responsibility to the world. When the University of Virginia called about a coaching opportunity, it was the allure and possibility of Charlottesville that attracted me. 


Language of Leadership

Steadfast

ACTION STYLE - STEADY

Resolute, firm, and unwavering sense of purpose and principle

The place felt right. In Charlottesville, I sensed a certain mystery, an opportunity for the convergence of deep exploration, purposeful expression and positive impact. A place to bring together what had felt like the disparate pieces of myself - Praxis, yoga, sport, academic learning, and spiritual development. 

Charlottesville had it all. A complex history deeply intertwined with that of America, a world-class educational institution, a vast spiritual and yoga culture, great restaurants, a vibrant arts scene, and unparalleled natural beauty. It had the dynamic appeal of a city, and the charm of a small town.


When I arrived I was immediately struck by what seemed like a bundle of contradictions. I couldn’t quite put my finger on how to describe Charlottesville. It felt like a southern town with a Boston feel. An elite college in a humble mountain setting. A place where the extremely wealthy, the blue collar, and the homeless collided everyday. Its roads were lined with modern strip malls, the best grocery stores, splendid farms, and breathtaking historic architecture. It felt suburban, metropolitan, and rural at the same time. It felt deeply spiritual and devoutly secular. 

It was impossible to give Charlottesville a clear cut, easy to understand label. It was all of the contradictions, and none of them. Charlottesville was a real place - fully alive with all the trappings and mysteries of humanity.

The mystery magnetized me. It was impossible to give Charlottesville a clear cut, easy to understand label. It was all of the contradictions, and none of them. Charlottesville was a real place - fully alive with all the trappings and mysteries of humanity. It wasn’t some idyllic, and isolated college town. It was a vibrant and dynamic community facing the uncertainty of our times. Caught between the desire to cling to its storied history, and the responsibility to face the reality of who it is, where it came from, and how that history informs and impacts its current reality. 

When we hide, we refuse our place in the world. We limit ourselves from truly understanding who we are, and what’s possible for our existence. 

When I looked at Charlottesville, I saw myself. The convergence of seeming contradictions - different emotions, passions, attitudes, and perspectives. The convergence of past, present, and future. The uncertainty of a changing culture and identity. 

And very much, like Charlottesville, I was in a period of profound transition. I had more questions than I had answers. I knew that moments of transition were moments of great opportunity or extreme threat depending on the steadiness of the response to change.  

Change is uncomfortable. It asks us to live in the space of not knowing, and to be in the steady work that makes understanding possible. Often though, we fail to accept not knowing. Rather, we pretend that we already know. We hide behind certainty, we deny the existence of opportunities and threats. We deny part of the truth, and cling to the other. We judge everything. Its right or wrong, left or right, black or white. The labels give us the perception of control, yet humanity, and life, is so much more complex than the labels we give it. The hiding - behind labels, justifications, excuses, blame, complaints and sorries - only causes suffering. It creates a false, and narrow reality, one in which we cannot make progress or learn because we can't fully understand ourselves, our motivations, and our role in, and responsibility to the big picture. When we hide, we refuse our place in the world. We limit ourselves from truly understanding who we are, and what’s possible for our existence. 

In Charlottesville, I've learned that for truth to be possible, we must confront all changing parts of ourselves with steady work and honest endeavor. The mystery that attracted me to this place, is the very magic that I now love about it. I love Charlottesville's nuance and complexity. Its beauty and its mess. I love how real and raw it is. I love the passion in the hearts of its people. I love the aliveness this community. I love that Charlottesville, in this time of transition, has a profound opportunity to impact and shift the way that America engages in the honest and tough conversation about our who we are, and what we are responsible for. I love that Charlottesville doesn’t have the answers. I love that this place, rather than pretending to have it, instead, is courageous enough to say ‘I don’t,’ and engage in the conversation anyways. 

Change is the only certainty we face. If living in Charlottesville has taught me anything, its that we must be bold, honest and steady in the pursuit of truth. We must not hide, or pretend. We must seek to understand the complete truth of who we are, and how we impact the world. As imperfect and uncomfortable as the uncertainty may feel, we must - each and everyone of us - face it full on. 

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Discover within, Expand Beyond,

Rachel

The Gift of Charisma

 

This post is dedicated to the power, gift and talent within, and the courage to express it. 

 
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6 Attributes of the Charismatic Leader

Speed / Power

Creativity

Confidant Expression

Influence / Collaboration

Inspiration / Vision

Fueling


What is Charisma?

Charisma is the experience of being totally moved  by the raw presence of another human being - their unfiltered, honest, vulnerable, powerful self.

Magnetic presence. Power. Attraction. Charm. A divinely conferred power, talent or gift. It is that certain Je ne said quios, that powerful force of aliveness and passion in the eyes, voice, and heart that inspires,and connects. Charisma draws us in, and it also pushes us away. It creates, and it destroys. It is the experience of being totally moved  by the raw presence of another human being - their unfiltered, honest, vulnerable, powerful self.

The gift of charisma, to which we are all privy when we deeply connect to our own source of passion, is that of pure power, energy, charm, and spirit. Charisma invigorates, inspires and magnetizes. It makes transformation possible. To lead with charisma, a leader must be willing to be unconventional, willing to invoke and express emotional depth, and creativity in a simple, relatable, responsible yet emphatic way. 

Below is a personal expression of my experience of charisma. I wrote the words as they came to me. 


 

Power Action Style

 Affirms, invigorates, inspires and influences action with captivating energy and presence

 

The audience senses her presence. They feel it in their bones - they lean imperceptibly toward her even though she's invisible. They don’t know why they do it. All they know is they can’t help it. They are magnetized by her - by every word she says, by the way she says them, by the message of her presence.

She walks in the room. The silence gets deeper, more profound. Her shoes click against the hard wood floor. Poised, powerful, and undaunted by the pressure of the audiences’ clinging, she strides to the podium, asserts herself firmly behind it, clears her voice as if to speak, and then, she smiles. Its the type of smile that puts you at ease, rescuing you from the trance of expectation. That's her welcome, her way of instructing you to take your seat, open your ears, and simply listen.  Let yourself be moved, the smile says.

Then, the smile fades, and for a moment deafening silence overtakes the room.

And then, the lion roars. Words flow from her. She doesn’t say them, she expresses them with the totality of her being - her voice, her body, her eyes - with the courage of her unconventional passion.

The lion roars.

Words flow from her. She doesn’t say them, she expresses them with the totality of her being - her voice, her body, her eyes - with the courage of her unconventional passion. She shocks them with her ruthless honesty, and engages them with the articulation of her message, and purpose. She feels every word she says, she lives every word - she expresses each one with the force of her being, deeply respecting and trusting the rawness of her voice. 

Confidence oozes from her pores. With every ounce of her being, she believes, and her belief infuses the hearts and minds of those around her with a sense of belonging, power, and promise. She knows the danger of her gift. She fears her gift - its ability to move, spark and inspire. She fears the responsibility that comes with her gift - the gift of freedom and greatness. 

She chooses to step into the fear. To let life, and the gift, gravitate toward her and flow from her. She doesn't pursue it. Pursuit pushes the gift away. She welcomes it, and lets it come to her.  She understands that to share the gift, she must be responsibility for it. The gift can create and destroy. Power is never neutral. The choice is hers, and hers alone. 

Impact of magnetic presence

  1. Engage through ability to express powerful and passionate message
  2. Energize through strong emotion
  3. Express unconventional, courageous vision
  4. Infuse with Belief
  5. Connect through powerful presence
  6. Transforms  

So she chooses to use her gift to help others discover their own natural charisma - their personal spark of presence and passion. She knows she mustn’t let them cling. She mustn’t diminish them, or herself. She must use her gift to help them discover their own power, to magnetize them to impactful cause, not to a person, personality, or prestige. 

For the gift, the human gift, the gift of energy, of charisma, of power, is a force field - it draws us in and repels us away.Charisma is the gift of grace. It is volatile, and beautiful.  It creates. It destroys. 

Share your gift. She dares you.

Discover Within, Expand Beyond

Rachel



 

 

The Shepherd Leader

 

This post is dedicated to my Mom, the greatest, most impactful, quietest and humblest leader I’ve ever known. 

 
The best leaders don’t actually lead - they listen, and the way they listen subtly shapes and shifts the listening, and perspective, of those around them.  
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6 Attributes of the Shepherd 

Mobility / Flexibility

Adaptability

Optimism / Grit

Empathy

Growth Mindset

Relaxation

 

The Shepherd Leader

  • Leads with Listening
  • Encourages Contribution and Leadership
  • Creates the Container for individual freedom, group cohesion, and greatness
  • Understands and connects by being part of the group
  • Sees and serves the big picture

The most impactful leaders don't use flamboyant words or flashy action. They don’t preach, instruct, tell, or teach. The greatest leaders live unnoticed, little seen or heard - celebrated not by name or fame, but rather as the invisible force of possibility and aliveness within each person and situation.

The best leaders don't actually lead - they listen, and the way they listen subtly shapes and shifts the listening, and perspective, of those around them.  They listen for space, the opportunity for greatness to emerge in others.


Action Style

Trust

Acts freely and firmly with confidant, humble ease, and high acceptance


We call them Shepherds, these invisible, silent, devoted listeners that guide life into its unique possibility in the simplest of moments. To the Shepherd, leadership flourishes in follower-ship - in the ability to listen, adapt, and serve with patient, steadfast optimism. The shepherd is a watcher who understands the needs of the group, nurtures talent within the group , and encourages expression and contribution of those talents. The Shepherd serves with fortitude and humility. Quiet, yet expansive and powerful, the Shepherd celebrates leadership not as an act, but as an art, a force to be experienced within and entrusted to the entire group. 

Who have been the Shepherds in your life? Take a second to celebrate the people who've listened, who've quietly - without pomp or cheer - seen you, and served you - the people who've shaped the way the you listen, and who've made space for you to emerge in your own unique greatness. Celebrate them, and then devote yourself to becoming a Shepherd, a quiet, invisible, and nameless servant of the power in another.

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Discover Within, Expand Beyond,

Rachel

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Show the Way

 

This blog is dedicated to Paige Elenson, Bethany Lyons, the Baptiste Yoga team, and my fellow Level 2 graduates who showed me the way last week - in word, listening and expression. 

 
 
The greatest leaders embody their words. They say less with greater impact. They mind the details of practice as if each detail held the magical secret to life. 
 
Photo by Jamie Roberts (instagram @the.jame)

Photo by Jamie Roberts (instagram @the.jame)


6 Attributes of the Leader By Example

Technical Skill

Self Assessment / Regulation

Awareness

Communication

Goal Setting

Organization / Prioritization


 It’s not what I say that matters, but how I say it and live it that creates the impact. Do I say, express, and practice my message with the conviction of my body, voice, and action?

We live in a world of words, inundated by words on social media, in books, in conversation. Even this blog is a bunch of words. A story. Words are powerful. They are messengers that convey information, shape perspective, and  inform experience. Both the words I say, and the ones I don’t, impact my interaction with, and understanding of the world. 

The greatest leaders don't just speak, they embody their words. They don't tell me what to do, they show me how to embody it, and create space for me to embody it in my own way. They say less with greater impact. They create themselves as models of possibility, living with rigorous vulnerability, and a deep respect for how the way in which they work, express, and interact, informs how others work, express, and interact. They mind the details of practice as if each detail held the magical secret to life. 

Praxis Action Style

Disciplined Practice

types of practice 

  1. Default Practice: normal, unconscious, day to day mode of practice
  2. Deliberate Practice: focused, specific, measurable, growth-oriented mode of practice
  3. Deep Practice: intense, felt-experience of the practice

Leadership Language

By Example

The foundation of all great leadership is self-leadership, personal mastery, and disciplined practice. It's not what I say that matters, but how I say it and live it that creates the impact. Do I say, express, and practice it with the conviction of my body, voice, and action?

A leader delivers a message in order to mobilize specific action and behavior within a group of people. A leader by example delivers the message through personal experience and expression. They lead through the work of self. Becoming the model of possibility, exploring each moment with the courage and wonder to discover an opening. The leader by example exposes what's normal motion - the default - in themselves and works deliberately into the simple, deep practice of personal expression. They learn directly from experience, and relate to others from that experience. They realize that the world around them is a mirror. Before they say a thing, they believe the thing, because they've experienced the thing. 

A leader by example says less, and inspires more. Do you?

Discover Within, Expand Beyond,

Rachel

 

 


 

Below is an inside view into the personal work I did last year in preparation for the Olympic Games. What's possible for you?