CHAPTER 4

HOW DO I FIND MY SPARK?

Looking Back to Look Forward

Have you watched the Michael J. Fox documentary, Still? I can’t recommend it enough. It chronicles Fox’s career from child actor in Family Ties to megastar in Back to the Future to his Parkinson’s diagnosis to now. It’s hard to reconcile the guitar-strumming Marty McFly with his body now and the debilitating neurological effects Parkinson’s has had on him. The title is clever, poetic, and poignant—while the disease has taken his ability to remain still, he is still here, stronger than ever. In the years since his diagnosis, Fox has raised more than $2 billion for Parkinson’s research. He may not be speeding to eighty-eight miles per hour in a DeLorean, but he is changing the future for millions.

The opening scene is a reenactment of the moment when Fox first suspected something wasn’t right. His pinky finger was trembling on its own. For a split second, he hoped it was a moth landing on his finger, flapping its wings, but deep down he knew his finger was shaking on its own.

Fox calls that moment “a message from the future.”5 That twitching finger was the first clue of what was to come. He didn’t know it then, but his present self could look back and see there was a sign. Many times, we don’t look backward in our quest for self-discovery. While the past doesn’t need to define tomorrow, there are some moments in our past that foreshadow who and what is to come.

Not all messages from the future are beacons of coming challenges like Fox’s was. Many are markers waiting to be found again. Growing up, my family spent our Saturdays fishing on Lake Minnetonka, about twenty miles west of Minneapolis. My dad’s parents owned a boat, named the Crusader, and docked her about a mile from their home. After digging up worms in the garden, we’d trek down to my grandparents’ home, where we’d say hello (and I’d convince Grandma I needed some cookies), and then we’d go to the dock, get in the boat, and navigate through bays and lake channels to our fishing spot.

Sometimes when the fishing was “hot,” we’d leave a marker—a giant floating bobber (often a milk jug) with an anchor. The marker would hopefully stay in the same spot, reminding us where to return. Sometimes we’d see other people’s markers and would pull up next to them, drop in our lines, and hope the fish would bite.

Messages from the future are like markers in your story’s timeline. Some are super visible, and some are tucked underneath events and memories. But they are there, like that bobber, waiting to be found.

PAYING ATTENTION TO THE MESSAGES

I know some of you love this idea of finding your spark and yet don’t have a clue who you are, what you want to do, or where that bobber is in life. If that’s you, breathe. You’re not alone, and we will figure it out, but it will take being willing to trust yourself (and me) as you examine some of your own message markers from the future.

It starts with being willing to look back and to talk with others about your life. When I started to wonder what I could do that would make me happy, I discovered two marker events from my past that were foreshadowing my future.

First, I liked public speaking. Twenty years ago, after my son Brennan was born, I attended a Tuesday-morning women’s group led by a vivacious and unconventional woman named Patti. Looking back, I credit Patti for encouraging me to wonder about the boxes I’d confined myself to and for challenging me to break out. Although it was nine years before results could be seen, my courage in attending those Tuesday mornings was the start of profound internal change—from unearthing limits, to no longer accepting them, to the action to change them.

The beginnings of change are rarely visible to outsiders. Most successful people will tell you about the unseen years of hustle before they were “discovered.” Typically, we don’t witness the hustle, the before—we just see the after. The after is often loud, visible, and life-changing, and those invisible years prior are often dismissed or diluted. The same is true for the hard moments in life. Rarely is a major challenge a one-time event but rather a series of events percolating until the outside world sees the outcome of what you’ve been enduring.

After several months, Patti asked if I’d be interested in sharing my breaking-out-of-the-box realizations with the group (about a hundred women). Despite my lack of public speaking experience, I was intrigued, so I said yes. The next week, I found myself behind a podium sharing about the ugly, uncomfortable, and yet redeeming places in my life. I wonder if anyone can see my hands shaking, I thought. Despite the external shake, my heart had unexpectedly found its place.

I loved sharing, loved storytelling, but most of all loved offering nuggets of hope. I lifted my bar’s limit and shared about how I was tired of letting life happen to me and that I was determined to change. I was vulnerable and real and could see women nodding, handing each other tissues, and saying, “Amen.” In that moment, I remember thinking, I could do this; this is what I’m called to do.

Eight years later, I was the opening keynote for a homeschooling conference in Pennsylvania and since then have keynoted dozens of events worldwide. That glimmer of interest in speaking turned into a career.

The second marker moment involved my childhood summers. Our family typically took a road trip, our gray conversion van towing a pop-up camper and my folks navigating with maps and AAA TripTiks. My dad, the engineer, loves data. He recorded our miles traveled, stops, and average miles per gallon in a notebook kept between the seats. One year, on a trip to Utah, my job was to record the data.

I had forgotten about my data duties until one day almost thirty years in the future, when my writing career was in its infancy. Writing is what ultimately changed my story. It unlocked the doors to financial change and created opportunities to share my heart with the world. But in the beginning, when I was still uncertain about my capabilities, my dad told me, “I always knew you could be a writer.”

He called me a writer—years before I felt comfortable calling myself a writer.

Curious, I asked him how he knew. And then he shared a message from the future in the form of those mileage notebooks from years ago, notebooks he wished he’d kept. Although my job was to record info, Dad told me I would write about the places and people we were seeing and create a narrative from the ordinary.

My dad’s recollection boosted my confidence. In 2008, I started my blog. In 2013, I published my first eBook. In 2018, I published my first physical book. In 2023, I published my second book. And this book was written because I confidently can now say that I am not only a writer but also an author.

Even if you can’t see them now, your life has messages from the future bobbing on the surface of your past. These messages are beacons of light, sparks of possibility about things you love, are great at, could do, and enjoy. They might offer a solution in your life like they did for me. My career is built on speaking and writing, and now, looking back, not only can I see those two messages but dozens more.

One fall day, my then-sixteen-year-old son, Elijah, came out of his room, bypassed the kitchen (rare indeed), and handed me twenty dollars. Before I could ask what it was for, he said, “Could you buy something for me on my computer that costs eighteen dollars?”

I said sure, but like every mom of a teenager, I asked him what it was for. He said, “I am buying a server.” Thankfully, I know a bit about coding and computers, so I pressed for info and asked what kind of server. He then told me how he and his friends had built a game for the site Steam and needed a server to host it on.

“You’re doing what?” I was so impressed, especially because I grew up coding. All the time he was in his room, sitting on his computer, talking loudly with his friends, he was creating something. I had assumed he was just playing, but in the midst of playing he discovered something he was good at. Sometimes I wonder if that, coupled with his acing of every single science and math class, will be a message to his future self.

Your responsibility is to find your messages. They are there, just waiting for you to unearth them. Now, sometimes fear will tell you the discovered marker message is too big, too hard, too challenging, or too late for you to breathe life into it again. Instead of sinking into the fear, I want you to examine that fear. Fear isn’t always a red light telling you to stop. Sometimes fear is an indicator that you are on the right track. Remember, anticipation often feels like fear.

I encourage you to greet your fear as a friend who is there to help you determine your path forward. Instead of seeing fear as a red light, ask yourself why you feel the fear. Maybe you’re scared simply because you don’t know the steps to move past it, not because it’s a legitimate fear telling you not to move forward. Can you allow yourself time to go on this journey? Every time you question fear, it is like lighting a candle in a dark room. At first you can only sort of see, but as your eyes adjust, the light begins to overtake the darkness.

Start examining your life. At the end of this chapter, in the Fire Starters section, I’ve included a list of fifty questions to help you start to uncover your own message markers. Explore them. Meditate on them. Start to wonder about you again. And if fear starts creeping in, remember to link arms with it as your friend and ask it to reveal deeper truths.

One of my favorite quotes, often attributed to Eleanor Roosevelt, is, “Do one thing every day that scares you.” I’ve chosen to live these words. And you can too! Looking for your message markers might unearth some fears. But what if on the other side of fear is happiness? For years, especially before challenging days, I’ve told my kids Roosevelt’s quote. Then, one day, after reminding me of Roosevelt’s words, my son Elijah remarked, “Mom, you have another sign in the kitchen that says, ‘Do one thing every day that makes you happy.’”

That was the day when fear no longer was something to be feared. That day I realized that oftentimes on the other side of fear is happiness.

DECISION PARALYSIS

If you were to ask my husband where he grew up, he’d respond with, “Which year?” His dad remained in the Air Force throughout Dan’s childhood, and as a result, he grew up as a military brat, moving from base to base across the country. Dan has never told me his favorite base, but if I had to guess, based on the number of tales, it probably would be Elmendorf Air Force Base in Anchorage, Alaska. There, his elementary school years consisted of not only math, spelling, and science but also regular sonic booms from the F-15 military jets training overhead.

His early life consisted of moving boxes, meeting new people, and establishing roots, only to move again and start over. My life was the opposite. In 1977, my parents built the suburban Minneapolis split-level home they still reside in. Their home is a catalog of life moments and memories—some still etched into pavers or inked onto walls. While they never moved, we did take epic family vacations. Dan saw the world in moving, and I saw it in road trip miles logged across North America. Even though our childhoods varied, the spark of travel exists within both of us, and we’ve passed it on to our blended family. Several times a year, we’ll pack up the kids, load up the vehicles, and take a trek. We’ve journeyed to both Minnesota and the Gulf of Mexico multiple times; to the Ozarks; Washington, DC; Philadelphia; Savannah; the Outer Banks; and pretty much every Tennessee state park.

Hanging in our office is a gigantic United States map with roads we’ve traveled highlighted in red. Instead of just coloring in visited states, we shade in the roads. Then, when the “Where are we going this year?” question hits in early spring, the first step is to reference the map of where we’ve already been. I love the ocean—it’s a sacred space of peace for me—and will seek it out, which resulted in spring break 2023 being spent in Navarre Beach, Florida. Navarre Beach is on the Gulf Coast, between Destin and Pensacola on a section of shore called the Emerald Coast. It’s an exquisite, picture-perfect gem tucked in Florida’s Panhandle.

It’s also the destination that almost wasn’t, due to decision paralysis.

Decision paralysis is an inability to make a decision due to the fear of making the wrong decision. I’ve struggled with decision-making most of my life. I would fret over decisions, worry if a choice was correct, and oftentimes, as soon as I’d decide, I’d immediately doubt myself instead of proceeding forward. It’s hard to make progress if you’re living in a loop of decision paralysis.

For that trip, I took on the responsibility of finding the rental home for our large family. My task? Find a place within budget that still boasted ocean views and was close enough to cool places the teenagers could walk to. Since VRBO and Airbnb don’t give an exact address until you book, I would go to Google maps, try to find the rental, and then scope out the surrounding area. I’d scour reviews and look for real estate listings. This was all my own doing. Dan just wanted a clean place, somewhere to put his head, and a home base for us to sleep, shower, and get some breakfast. His goal was not to be in the rental but to be out in the world exploring.

After a couple days of searching (yes, days), I sent a potential rental to Dan to check out. It was across the street from the beach, had beachy décor and enough beds (this is critical), and was within budget. He looked at my link, liked the price, and immediately booked it.

I instantly felt regret.

What if it’s the wrong place?

What if it isn’t big enough?

What if it’s noisy?

What if the reviews aren’t right?

What if it’s too far for the kids to walk to the boardwalk?

What if, what if, what if?

Our brains can be loud, especially when the decision loop begins. This time, instead of mulling the doubts internally, I worry-vomited my concerns on Dan. At first, he was chill, but as my questions kept coming, his level of tolerance lowered. After a bit, he said that despite potentially losing over $1,000 in a nonrefundable deposit, he was going to find a new place to alleviate my whirlwind of worry and to allow his peace to return. When I realized what my worry was causing, I stopped in my tracks.

I’ve come up with four reasons for decision paralysis as well as four solutions to either prevent it or halt it when you are in the middle of it.

DECISION PARALYSIS REASON 1: FEAR OF MAKING THE WRONG DECISION

No one likes to make the wrong decision. And we don’t intend to make the wrong decision either. No one goes into the decision-making process thinking, I’m going to choose the worst possible outcome for myself and my family. You make decisions with the knowledge you have in front of you and the lessons you’ve learned behind you. Times when you made a decision that didn’t work out can cause you to overquestion yourself. It’s not that you can’t decide; you just don’t want to risk the outcome of the wrong decision.

Solution: Ask Yourself, “Can I Survive a Bad Decision?”

If your answer to this question is no, that’s your first clue to reevaluate. Most decisions can be adapted and are survivable. Let’s say my family had arrived at our rental and it was a hellhole, bedbug-infested dump. We wouldn’t have stayed there, we would have adapted, and we would have had a story to tell for years to come!

I realized my fear over making a “wrong” decision was deeper than just booking the wrong place. It was rooted in two things: fear of making a bad financial decision and fear of letting my family down. Because of my financial past, the idea of spending money on something horrible froze me. Second, because these trips are a huge deal in our family, I didn’t want anyone to hate the place we were staying and potentially ruin the trip. I could have lost us money, and the place could have been horrible. But neither of those things happened. The paralysis happened in the hypothetical pondering of potential negatives.

As you begin to decide how you’re going to spend your time investing in finding your spark, be prepared, especially in the beginning, for the negatives to speak louder than the positives. If I had listened to the negatives, our beach trip would have been a “what might have been”; instead, it was a wonderful memory.

Oddly, sometimes the bad decisions create the best memories. Once, when Dan was young, his family stayed at a not-so-great motel on the way to Spokane, Washington. The motel was nasty—dirty, cups-in-the sink gross. Dan’s little brother, Tom, who was three at the time, announced, “This place is the first worst.” The term first worst has stuck in Dan’s family ever since, all because of a theoretically poor choice more than forty years ago. And now? Now it makes everyone laugh.

DECISION PARALYSIS REASON 2: AVOIDANCE

I bought into a belief that I’m a poor decision-maker. As a result, I’d either avoid making a decision or overly question decisions. Avoidance is a form of procrastination. Avoidance finds other things to do or tells us decisions can’t be made without all the information. The problem with waiting for information is that you’ll never get it all or the information will change. Avoidance says, “Just wait”—without a timeline.

Avoidance gives away your power to others and circumstances. You might think you’re waiting on a decision, but you are actually making a decision to give away your decision. Avoidance is also a desert: eventually, you’ll be so thirsty that you’ll do anything for water, and if it’s regarding decision-making, you’ll make any decision out of desperation.

Solution: Add a Deadline, and Learn to Trust Yourself

Don’t wait until you’re parched, and don’t give away your decision-making right.

True confidence results in reclaiming decision-making control and accepting the results of the decision. It means being okay with great, mediocre, fabulous, and terrible results. It also means being okay with accepting a new identity as the confident decision-maker as opposed to the person who needs to run every option by everyone else. This is the start of learning to trust yourself. Trusting yourself doesn’t mean you’re arrogant or that you don’t hear the opinions of others. It’s the opposite. Trusting yourself puts the responsibility of decisions back on you and removes the potential for you to default to, “Well, I shouldn’t have listened to them.” Confidence replaces blame with ownership.

But how, right? Avoidance’s biggest lie is this: you have unlimited time. News flash: you don’t. However, you will fill your time one way or the other—whether you make a decision to try to find your spark, to change your narrative, to forgive, to seek happiness, and to take care of yourself, or you don’t. You might fill that time with worry, Netflix, or frustration. The absence of a tough decision means you’re defaulting to a passive, seemingly easier, yet temporary decision.

Making decisions is a powerful catalyst. The more confident you become in making decisions, the easier it will be to stand up for yourself. Your ability to discern what is important will improve, and the need to defend or doubt your decisions will lessen. What if you’re one decision away from stepping onto the path you’ve told yourself you can’t find? The only way you’ll know is to actually decide and stick with your decision.

DECISION PARALYSIS REASON 3: YOU FEEL LIKE YOU DON’T KNOW YOURSELF

If you’re stalling out on figuring out what you like because you don’t know who you are, you’ve successfully created a catch-22. You can’t figure out what you like until you know who you are, and you can’t figure out who you are until you know what you like.

Which comes first, the chicken or the egg? Figuring out what you like or who you are?

Solution: Ask Yourself, “What If the Ordinary Is the Extraordinary?”

If each of us intrinsically knew our calling, life would be pretty boring. There wouldn’t be the need to innovate, to explore, and to create. And what if there wasn’t just one perfect calling either? What if you gave yourself the grace to learn a new skill or pursue a new passion?

For most of us, there isn’t a moment in life when we will be like, “This is it! I’ve figured everything out! I know who I am!” You aren’t meant to stay stagnant; you are on a journey of continuous discovery within the ordinary. Yes, the ordinary.

Let’s face it: most of life is ordinary. Most of our days don’t consist of the grand trips or milestone moments. Rather, daily life is often the same thing, coupled with time passing by. And I truly believe that finding your spark happens within the ordinary.

It starts with being willing to appreciate the in-between, the normal—sunrises, hot lattes with friends, laughter, taking a walk. Learn to love that you get to wake in the morning and do something with your day. You get the opportunity to reignite your life. And in doing something, you are writing the next chapter of your story.

“Who am I?” changes with time, with age, and with experience. Give yourself grace to live within the unknown of the ordinary, to let who you are change with time, and to let your ordinary become your extraordinary story.

DECISION PARALYSIS REASON 4: I NEED TO KNOW I’M 100 PERCENT MAKING THE RIGHT DECISION

Even if every single variable is locked down and you feel 120 percent confident in your decision, the variability of life still exists. It’s why no one can truly predict the weather. Meteorologists have hundreds of data points and can give a fairly accurate prediction, but it’s never 100 percent perfect. Have you heard of the butterfly effect? The hypothesis is that a butterfly flapping its wings could eventually lead to a typhoon. Instead of decisions being solely linear (2 + 3 = 5), there is always an element of unpredictability and variability. There are too many unknowns within the knowns for any prediction to be perfectly accurate.

I thrive on the illusion of being in control. If I have everything planned and under control and charted out, nothing bad can happen. But the more I seek out certainty, the more uncertain I actually become. Instead of coming up with solutions and a decision, I spend more time seeking out the potential downfalls. Trust me, you can always find out what won’t work—especially if you’re going for 100 percent certainty.

Solution: Let Yourself Be Wrong

As a recovering perfectionist, this has been the hardest, most humbling part of my journey. I’m not great (okay, I’m terrible) at laughing at myself or my mistakes. I take mistakes personally, think they’re a slam against me and my ability, and often get ridiculously defensive. Instead of allowing myself to be human, I expect perfection. So, to counter my own defensiveness, I allow myself to make decisions without knowing all the answers. I do my best. I allow myself to mess up and don’t let it stop me from moving forward with peace.

Life is too short not to cut yourself a bit of slack. I want you to be okay with uncertainty, embrace the butterfly effect, and still make empowered decisions while igniting your spark.

WELL, MAYBE …

The “how” to finding your spark involves two things: looking for your messages from the future and making decisions. The how isn’t esoteric; it’s in the mental work and in the audaciousness of no longer negotiating with yourself about how to find it and instead taking action and participating in finding it. Remember, you can adapt, you can adjust, you can learn, but you cannot do any of these things if you don’t make at least one decision. If you’re still stuck, let me offer one final way to help you narrow down options. Maybe you don’t know exactly what to do but you do know what you don’t want to do.

Dan and I have a Mastermind where we coach bloggers and entrepreneurs. Over the years we have come across clients who feel stuck and have no idea of the direction they want their platform to go or how to start. They are always worried and often will tell us how overwhelming and impossible it feels to have no direction. Then Dan will ask, “Do you want to write about Middle East oil companies?” Everyone (so far) has said no. They know immediately that they don’t have interest in this space. Then Dan will ask them, “Do you want to write about moon-landing theories?” And again, so far, everyone has said no. Eventually, those who have no idea what they want to write about will find themselves narrowing down the field.

Sometimes the reason we’re stuck is because we’re trying to sift through all the possibilities. Start narrowing down the options until you get to a point where, just like our clients, instead of the immediate answer being, “No,” the answer is, “Well, maybe …” coupled with the spark of hope. Maybe isn’t no; maybe is you wondering if it might work.

Well, maybe I could write about parenting teens.

Well, maybe I could try that dance class.

Well, maybe I could reach out to the estranged friend.

Well, maybe I could start that blog.

Well, maybe I could go back to school.

Well, maybe I could …

Eventually, your “Well, maybe I could” will turn into a yes. Keep asking questions; keep daring to make decisions; keep taking small, positive action steps; and the “How do I find my spark?” will be replaced with a desire to keep it burning.

FIRE STARTERS

Here are fifty Message from the Future questions designed to help you unearth your spark. The more honestly you answer, the more clarity will come.

 1.Why do people come to you for advice?

 2.What were you good at as a kid?

 3.What did you give up doing in the last five years?

 4.What did you give up doing in the last ten years?

 5.What did you give up doing since you were a kid?

 6.What are your regrets?

 7.What’s easy for you that amazes other people?

 8.How do you like to relax?

 9.What game show do you know you would do well at?

10.Are you a city, beach, or mountain person?

11.Are you outdoorsy or museum drawn?

12.Do you like country or rock and roll or classical music?

13.Do you have a green thumb?

14.Would you rather teach or take classes?

15.What is on your bookshelf now?

16.What book would you lend to a friend because it is that good?

17.Do you like photography?

18.Are you a writer?

19.What is in your keepsake box?

20.In your yearbook what were you “most likely” to do?

21.Do you have a degree that you haven’t used?

22.What was your favorite elective in school?

23.What photos from your youth make you proud?

24.Do you have a dream board? If so, what’s on it?

25.What do you love that others think is silly?

26.Did you like drama in school?

27.Can you play a musical instrument?

28.How do you decorate your home?

29.Do you love DIY, or do you hire out?

30.Have you made a bucket list? If so, what’s on it?

31.What charity do you love helping?

32.What social media accounts do you follow?

33.What do you love to learn about?

34.Do you like animals?

35.Who inspires you?

36.When have you felt the happiest?

37.Where is your place of peace?

38.If money wasn’t a barrier, where would you go?

39.If money wasn’t a barrier, what would you do?

40.What do your kids see in you?

41.What song describes your life?

42.Who would you love to meet?

43.What makes you laugh?

44.If you had to give a speech unprepared, what could you talk about?

45.Where do you spend your free time?

46.When do you feel like the real you?

47.What five words would you use to describe yourself?

48.What would you do if you knew it would work out?

49.What do you love about you?

50.What is your message from the future?

Okay, the last one was a bit sneaky, but you get the point—you must start asking questions. You can’t get to where you want to go by speeding along at a million miles an hour. You’ll be going so fast that you’ll miss the markers. In the notes you’ll find a link to my website with more questions if you want to go deeper.6