Inspiraré

 

 I awoke one night to the word “Inspirare”.  I used this word once, 28 years ago in a blue-sky presentation, which launched my entrepreneurial brand, Lynear Thinking.

I got out of bed at 4:45 AM (it’s 5:45 in Winnipeg where I work, so it’s not too early I tell myself.)  As I walked into the kitchen to make coffee, I said to myself, you’re not lost. You’ve been here all along.  Breathe. I opened my notebook, and wrote:

Inspirare.It’s been there all along. Breathe. Inhale.  Breathe of life. Words bouncing through my mind - yoga, soft decor, books, workshops, a gallery of objects, media, stories .  . .

I picked up a soft grey paint chip, opened a book to a page and placed the paint chip as a book mark.Sitting down with a cup of coffee, I closed my eyes, and took a deep breath.

 “Inspirare”, I said to myself.

Over and over, inhaling and exhaling . . . 

As breath moved through my body, I was transported back to my 35 year old self;  she was innocent, curious, and courageous. She saw possibility, not barriers, and she believed anything could be accomplished if it was important.

I was a junior communicator in a crown corporation at the time; my mentor asked me to create a blue sky presentation for the executive about the kind of place I wanted to work.

Eyes closed, I searched my memory.  Pen in hand, I scribbled the words as if to catch them in flight before they were gone from my memory.

A place where CEO means

creative

entrepreneurial

optimistic

Where there is no "no", only how

Where a visionary could be anyone, from anywhere, not just the corner office

 Where inspiration is nurtured . . .

(Erik Weihenmayer, who, on May 25, 2001, was the first blind person to reach the summit of Mt. Everest, inspired what came next.)

“When he first saw Erik Weihenmayer arrive that afternoon, Pasquale Scaturro began to have misgivings about the expedition he was leading. Here they were on the first floor of Mount Everest, and Erik – the reason for the whole trip – was stumbling into Camp 1 bloody, sick and dehydrated.”

 “. . . As Erik passed out in his tent, the rest of the team gathered in a worried huddle. ‘I was thinking maybe this is not a good idea,’ says Scaturro. ‘Two years of planning, a documentary movie, and this blind guy barely makes it up to Camp.(Blind to Failure, Time Magazine)

Oxygen deprivation does strange things to the body.  

Heart rates go haywire

brain function decreases

blood thickens

intestines shut down

 

I titled it “Lynear Thinking”.

The next day, in front of a room filled with executives, walked to the front of the room, in my black leather pants, and I pushed play .

“It’s my Life”, by Bon Jovi, blasted.  A co-worker mouthed to me, “what are you doing?” My vision unfolded before them. They watched, undistracted and my fate became sealed that day.  

I didn't get fired that day (I guess this could be seen as an act of defiance) but then again, I never occurred to me that I could. 

From that day onward, Lynear Thinking was formed, created my path and career as a shaper, a transformer and a leader.

Each step since then has been to climb this mountain of vision. 

For the next 15 years, I helped corporate leaders climb the hill of vision, as a corporate planner and writer, traversing to the peaks of the executive office where, predictably, the air was thin and suffocating, as I foresaw on that day in 1996.

It became unsustainable for me to live in a state oxygen deprivation. 

In 2011, I left the corporate camp and continued my climb, alone, setting a guiding intention, and making a promise to myself that:

• I would publish stories that are read world-wide about interesting and inspiring people who live and work in their passion.
• I would be an instigator of personal freedom.
• I would inspire people to accept and live in their own vision, and be inspirational to others to do the same.
• I would publish the book that changes the way we look at work. I would inspire a revolution of living in colour.
• I would paint the sky all the colours of possibility.

12 Years of Climbing

In 2012, I followed my love of storytelling into the magazine publishing business as publisher and owner of SKY Magazine, which was dedicated to telling "our story" as entrepreneurs.

In 2014, I published "How to be a Pink Flamingo in a Brown Duck Pond" a metaphorical story of lessons learned and lives lived in the quest for the top of the mountain. (Published by Friesen Press).

In 2016, I followed my feet into the world of retail, transforming a 30+ year old shoe store named ZÖE, which means life, through a reinvented brick and mortar and online store.  I rebranded and introduced world brands. Known as a tourism destination, guests came to ZÖE from everywhere.

In January 2020, I launched a by-appointment shopping experience to focus on creating a unique in store experience for people in motion, and who could appreciate a reprieve from the chaos outside, and to expand my consulting practice. 

Retail is a mirror image of our souls.  Online shopping was accelerating as fast fashion brands flooded the environment, literally.  In February that year, I wrote that the only thing that could change this momentum is if the world was turned upside down for a time.  

Upside Down 

By March 2020, the world stopped walking and the way we live and work was forever changed with the onset of COVID-19. Online shopping and living  accelerated at an unprecedented pace.

The word of the day was pivot, like it was a temporary adjustment.  A tweak.  

But what that really happened is businesses that were built to be experienced were suddenly irrelevant in a new global market place that was designed for fast fashion and global warehouses, facilitated by a global health care crisis where people would learn to become insular instead of communal.  

Climbing the hill of life takes interesting twists and turns and quite often, the road is placed before us, and we have to walk it.  On this road, we can find ourselves if we are looking.  

Nobody chose the COVID road, but here we are. On the day COVID19 dropped, I was on my way to Winnipeg to begin a new contract in heath care data transformation where I would have a front row seat on the health care crisis (while my retail business drifted deeper into a coma).

Four and a half years later, I continue to work in Manitoba, while hoping that one day my retail business will wake up. That we will walk again.

inspiraré

 

And so I come back here.  To my breathe.  To my practice of meditation and writing.  

Here’s what I realized:

In retrospect, maybe  when we stopped walking 4 years ago, we lost our way. 

It’s fragile. I remind myself that life is about both mindfully moving forward and appreciating the moment. 

Maybe we need to heal our souls more than we need a new pair of shoes. And that’s ok.  

Inspirare.

Lynn