Adventures in Fostering

Dory at Rest

Update 12/14/20: Dory passed away on Saturday in the hospital from multiple infections. If you’d like to read more about her there is another post below or find many photos and stories of her on Instagram- https://www.instagram.com/laurafostercoaching/

Dory, my new hospice foster dog, has been with me a few days and we’re slowly adjusting to each other. It’s very stressful for a dog, especially a rescue dog, to be in a strange environment with a new person.

We definitely have some issues with pee and poop. If you have an aversion to pee and poop you might want to stop here. She’s from a puppy mill and was likely raised in a cage, so she doesn’t really understand how to dog in so many ways- including not peeing (or pooping) in her crate at night. Her previous fosters did a great job with her, but she’s still learning. And honestly, I’m still learning too. For instance- now I know the following- don’t feed a dog at 8 pm. Don’t let your dog drink a bucket of water at 10 pm. Don’t leave them alone to roam the house while they’re still getting used to things. And notice when they’re pacing and/or scratching at the floor.

There have been some accidents in the house- which is to be expected. I rolled up the living room rug in anticipation of exactly this. (Actually, the truth is that my rug is still rolled up waiting to go to the cleaners because Pink, the last foster dog, peed all over it.) 

Yesterday while I was on a video call with a client, I noticed she’d suddenly become quiet- and then I smelled the unmistakable aroma of poop. 20 minutes later I finally got off the call to find that poop was confirmed. I wasn’t angry, but I was definitely irritated that I wasn’t better prepared.

I know from my reading that yelling at a dog and rubbing their nose in their excrement doesn’t work, so I looked at her sheepishly lying on her blanket, but I didn’t approach her. I got down on the floor and simply cleaned up the mess. That’s when she slunk over to me with her head bowed and put her head in my lap. My heart completely melted. This tender little being was apologizing to me. She knew she did something she wasn’t supposed to do. She had even tried to warn me by pacing and circling. I just didn’t understand.

Her last foster had a porch potty- look it up, it’s actually a thing, but that seemed like too large of a commitment, so I had ordered some fake grass for my balcony. Needless to say, it does not look “real” or “lifelike”, but it is green. One of the reasons I ordered it is because Dory struggles going up and down stairs. She’s fairly comfortable going up the stairs, but she just started trying to go down stairs last week with her former foster so she’s still pretty unstable and really doesn’t like to do it. I thought, in a pinch, fake grass on the balcony might be a lot easier for her. I do sometimes carry her down the stairs, but I want her to get stronger, so if we have time, I encourage her, and we take our time navigating the stairs.

Last night I took her out to use the “highest quality authentic lawn.” She’d already peed on it once, so I knew she’d accepted it as a legitimate elimination spot. She refused to step on the fake grass and instead pulled me to the stairs and painstakingly, one by one, led me down to the bottom so she could poop in the actual grass. I was stunned. She’d fought me every single previous time we’d gone down those stairs.

This little 30-pound creature put herself in an uncomfortable position and did something that is truly difficult for her because she wanted to please me. She wanted to show me that she sees and understands me. What a touching and beautiful sacrifice.

It’s only been 3 days. And already, my heart is wide open and I’m madly in love with her. Yes- even though she pees and poops in her crate (and my house). Even though her farts are more deadly than the kitten farts. Even though- she’s going to die.

This morning when I went to get her up to take her out, she refused to get out of her crate. Instead, she turned on her side to show her belly to me as if to say. “Slow down. Let’s love each other first.”

I launched my group program this morning and, of course, had a lot to do. And still- I spent some time snuggling with her on the couch after our walk. Because she deserves all the love and care I can muster.

It may be strange to talk about love and poop in the same post. But really, isn’t that what all of life is? Good. Bad. Hard. Beautiful.

Join me in hoping that I get more time rather than less with this angel.

Dory the Hospice Foster Dog

Meet Dory. She’s a petite little bulldog who was used in a puppy mill and dropped off at a shelter as soon as she exhibited health problems. She’s been diagnosed with heart failure. I’m officially a hospice foster. I take her to a new vet on Monday and hopefully they can give me an idea of what her timeline is. She’s already had a failed heart surgery and there’s really nothing else they can do for her other than draining fluid out of her belly every week.

I’ve had a few people ask me why I would do this.

The truth is, I’m a little baffled by this myself. I mean, I am NOT A CAT PERSON and there were definitely some tears the day I dropped off the super cute kittens (little monsters) last week.

I can’t thank her previous foster enough- he did an incredible job with her. I asked him why he wasn’t keeping her to see her through and he said, “I didn’t sign up for that kind of heartbreak.”

I know I’m signing up for exactly that kind of heartbreak. My friend Jen wrote a post last week about heartbreak- and in it she said that maybe heartbreak isn’t meant to shatter our heart into a million pieces, but to break our heart open so we can receive more love.

I haven’t seen a lot of death in my life. I know that makes me fortunate. And I also know that it won’t last.

Honestly, the first time I saw Dory’s picture on Instagram I knew- this dog is for me. I emailed the rescue and told them she’d captured my heart. And- when it was decided that she’d go into hospice I volunteered to take her anyway.

So, here we are- navigating the end of her life. Depending on how much time she has I may put together a bucket list for her. Because given her history, this dog deserves to experience all the beauty and joy that this world has to offer.

Send me a little love down below. I think I’m going to need it.

Little Monsters

I’m currently fostering 3 kittens.

When you look at this photo do you automatically gush- O.M.G., so CUUUTE!

They are cute. And- they’re little monsters.

I’ve never had cats. In fact, I’m not a cat person. I am a staunch dog person. But, when I got an email from a rescue imploring those of us on the foster list to take in kittens because it’s “kitten season” in LA and that the situation is “urgent”, I thought- how bad can this be?

Let me tell you- I thought bulldogs were stinky. They have nothing on kittens. Everything stinks with kittens- their urine stinks, their poop stinks, their food stinks, the litterbox stinks.  And nothing could have prepared me for the pungency of kitten farts.

They also don’t quite know how to use their limbs yet so they often stomp through their poop in the litter box, and because they don’t fully understand how to clean themselves (I was under the impression that cats were self-cleaning) this means that everywhere they go there are poopy paw prints to mark their journey.

Because I like a clean house this means that I’m often in the position to wash these kittens. Kittens don’t like water and they don’t like to be washed. And- they don’t know how to retract their razor-sharp little claws (or maybe they do know and they’re trying to maim me for life) so I have kitten scratches EVERYWHERE.

Delightful.

As a foster, it’s my job to socialize them- which means I need to get them used to household sounds like the television and the vacuum cleaner. And, I need to hold them (and be nice and loving to them) so they get used to human contact.

So, I hold them. And- the first time one of them started to purr I melted. I felt such sweetness from this tiny being so willing to trust and let go. They each get time with me on the couch at night. Now they all purr- one of them even likes to suck on my earlobes which initially I thought was cute until I saw a kitten hickey on my neck and realized- oh no, this has to stop.

I’ve been taking in foster animals since the pandemic started because I want to open up my life to more joy and more enthusiasm and more love. Taking care of these animals has definitely been work, but it’s also been wonderful.

I’m looking at fostering a hospice dog in the next week or so. Nobody knows how long this dog has left but there’s something about her. The first time I saw her I knew- this dog needs my love.

Look for updates about her soon.

And- if you’re a woman and you’re looking for more in your life- love, enthusiasm, money, joy, I have one spot left in my Women Who Want More group coaching program that starts in 2 weeks. Reach out to me if you’re curious.

Joy and The Grand Canyon

The Grand Canyon, 9/14/20

A few months ago, I decided I wanted more joy, more enthusiasm, and more fun in my life.

This is a photo of me from the Grand Canyon last week. I went on an incredible road trip and saw Sedona, the Grand Canyon, and both Zion and Bryce National Parks.

I hadn’t been on a trip since last December.

It was glorious to be out of the smoke in LA seeing blue skies and breathing clean air. And- there was beauty everywhere. I felt enthusiasm. I felt joy. And I definitely had fun.

For most of my life, joy has taken a back seat to WORK. I was taught by my father that hard work is really important. Here’s the problem- whether I was working for someone else or working for myself, the work never seemed to be done.

I used to think- once I finish this project or accomplish this goal or get from here to there THEN I can start to prioritize joy. As if joy is something that has to be won or deserved.

The truth is, without joy and fun there wasn’t a lot of enthusiasm in my life either. Life felt like a chore, something I had to get through to reach some utopia on the other side.

So I decided to make a change.

I worked with my coach to design a project to bring more joy and enthusiasm into my life (and yes- coaches have coaches!) This gave me the opportunity to really think about- what does bring me joy? Where do I feel most alive? When am I most enthusiastic?

For a project like this- it isn’t about just the big things- joy doesn’t have to mean big giant roller-coaster joy. Joy can be small. Here are a few of the things I’ve committed to- keeping fresh flowers in the house, running in the morning or going for a walk at twilight when the light in southern California becomes magical, and driving to see the ocean or the mountains once a week.

Fostering and adopting a dog are on my list too- for those of you who’ve been following me you know- fostering Pink opened me up to so much joy and so much love.

Here’s what has happened so far- I feel happier. I’m more at ease. I started working with a writing coach to finally flesh out the book I’ve been talking about for thirty years. I felt joy every time I took my foster dog for a run or a twilight walk. I now notice the butterflies and the wild parrots of Pasadena, and I smile behind my mask and wave to every neighbor I pass.

And, when a friend suggested a road trip during a pandemic, instead of immediately saying NO, I chose to go on an adventure. This is how I came to sit on the edge of the Grand Canyon in a state of joyful wonder on a Monday afternoon.

And, here’s what I didn’t expect- I had one of the best months I’ve ever had in my business last month.

Wait, what? How is that connected?

What I consistently see in my clients and in myself, is that when we slow down and work on ourselves everything in our lives can change.

So- what is the “more” you want in your life? Do you want more joy? More enthusiasm? More money? More time? Whatever it is, it’s available to you. Not WHEN you accomplish something big or reach some major milestone, but right now. Today.

If you are curious about creating more in your life I’m launching a small coaching group for women this Fall (and I also have a couple of 1:1 coaching spots available- I work with women and men.) Reach out to me if you’d like to know more.

Adoption Day for Pink

Adoption day for Pink

The dog I fostered for the last five weeks was adopted yesterday.

I spent much of Friday and a large portion of yesterday in tears.

Most of the people in my life conspired to convince me to keep her. When I told my father I really wanted a smaller dog he said, “She doesn’t care how big or how small you are, she loves you anyway.”

My friend in Colorado said, “I think you get the dog you need, not the dog you want.”

I’ve wanted a female French Bulldog for years. While Pink was snuggling with me on the sofa, I was still scrolling Petfinder looking for other dogs, (which, honestly, made me feel a little guilty.)

Even though Pink tried to attack other dogs and peed on my rug and tore apart my Liberty of London quilt, I considered keeping her a hundred times. She was sweet and lovable. Her favorite thing to do was to walk over to me and lay her head on my shoulder and just breathe. I could tell she’s had a lot of trauma in her life. All she wants to do is to feel safe and held.

And yet, I really want a smaller dog.

So, I begrudgingly let her go

The woman who adopted her is so excited to care for her. She brought her a toy when she came to pick her up and Pink seemed- interested. She had been in constant contact with the owner of the rescue- and may have arranged to take the entire week next week off to bond with her.

Pink landed in a good forever home.

I’ll be forever grateful for this precious animal for coming into my life and opening me up to love again. I tried to mitigate my love for her in the beginning and one day I just gave in and allowed myself to love her all out. Even though I knew that she would likely leave. I know I want more love in my life and Pink showed me that’s possible.

I’m feeling the pain of loss without her here- my apartment feels very empty (and remarkable clean after 4 hours of housework starting the minute she left.)

I can now walk from room to room without a shadow. I can run my Roomba all day every day. I don’t have to go outside for a walk when its 115 degrees. And my lint roller is firmly back in its cupboard.

And, I’m free to once again look for French Bulldogs.

If you’re a woman and you’re looking for more in your life- more love, more enthusiasm, more joy, I’m leading a small group coaching program this Fall. Reach out to me if you’re curious.

What do you do with a dog who has no idea how to play?

Pink and her decor

This is my latest foster dog, Pink.

She’s a rescue and she hasn’t been taught very many things in her life (other than to be fearful of other dogs and people who make sudden movements.)

I’ve collected an assortment of toys for her over the last month or so and she doesn’t have the slightest idea what to do with any of them.

The squeaky warthog came first as it was readily available at my neighborhood grocery store. Pink won’t go near it.

Next came the plush hedgehog, I’ve seen many dogs enthralled with this toy and I assumed she’d love it. She’s had it in her crate with her for almost a month and- nothing.

So, I got serious. I bought a plastic bone with rubber balls on the end that you can put treats in to encourage dogs to chew. After several weeks she’s learned how to chew for about a minute on the ends of this toy. But she won’t fetch it if I throw if for her and she’s not really interested.

Then I asked for help at the pet store and came home with a wishbone chew toy. Here’s what the website has to say about this toy (notice the liberal use of adjectives and exclamation points)-

            Benebone's Wishbone Chew isn't your dog's average chew toy. Made in the USA from durable nylon and real USA-sourced bacon throughout, the ergonomic wishbone will keep your dog chewing with delight! Each prong has deep flavor grooves to keep him interested and the unique, paw-friendly shape makes gripping extra easy. As if that wasn't enough, with your purchase you'll also be supporting animal welfare nationwide as a portion of all Benebone sales are donated to animal support organizations!

Sounds good, right? So far, she will lick it briefly if I bring it to her nose but nothing else.

I also bought a rope toy thinking that if she is engaging with me rather than chewing by herself it might be easier

I keep trying and the most she will do is grab onto the rope itself, but she lets go the moment I pull. 

So, what do you do with a dog who has no idea how to play?

I, of course, consulted google on this issue and learned that I can rub peanut butter all over a toy and hope that in licking the toy she’ll learn how to chew or play.

But- this isn’t really possible. I mean, I can’t have peanut butter residue all over my house.

It’s also recommended to use treats to reward her when she picks up a toy or tries to engage even a little bit in play.

I’ve been trying this. So far, the only thing she really loves to do is get close enough to me to lay her head on my shoulder.

I’m going to keep trying with her- she is getting really good at sitting so there may be hope for both of us.

All of this, of course, has highlighted for me-

Do I know how to play?

What does play mean to me as an adult?

Is riding on my Peloton bike play?

Is walking to the park at twilight play?

Is going to a social distance wine and cheese night at my friends’ house play?

Because I do like all of these things, but is this really what play looks like as an adult? 

Maybe and maybe not. I guess I’m a little like Pink now- I’m willing and open to re-learn how to play.

What about you- what do you do for play as an adult? Let me know in the comments.

And- if you’re a woman looking for more joy or more play (or more money or satisfaction) in your life, I’m leading a small coaching group for woman who want MORE this Fall. Reach out to me if you’re curious.

Fostering Pink

A Dog Named Pink

A few weeks ago, as I was scrolling the Petfinder app- (no judgments please) I came across an urgent post- Emergency Foster Needed! High Kill Shelter!

For those of you who don’t know, I’ve been trying to adopt a French Bulldog for the better part of a year. I had conditions when I first started- young, female, black and white, adorable, loving… (and definitely under 35 pounds.)

I’ve loosened my restrictions over time.

When I saw this dog something inside me clicked. Young, Female, gray and white- bulldog mix- close enough!

Within two days a dog named Pink came to my house. I knew she was a bulldog mix and likely had pit bull in her, but I was told she was “tiny” and “petite.” (and about to be euthanized if a foster couldn’t be found.)

She’s 50 pounds. Nothing about her is “tiny.”

I fostered another bulldog mix a couple of months ago so I had an idea of how to prepare (clean the house thoroughly in case I can’t vacuum again until they leave, move all the shoes and chewable items into the second bedroom and lock the door, start to collect free poop bags from the park by my house, etc…)

Now, as a rescue, there are of course, issues that need to be overcome.

Pink tries to attack other dogs. All 50 pounds of her, doing somersaults at the end of her leash viciously trying to get to any dog bigger than her. That, I’ve been told, can be corrected.

She also peed on my yellow and white rug (which is currently rolled up and ready to be cleaned) and tore up the Liberty of London quilt I had in her crate when I left her alone for too long one time. She also threw up most of the night all over this quilt the night she got spayed. (I know- it was not the best idea to use one of my most beautiful quilts to make her more comfortable.)

In other ways she’s a perfect dog- she’s quiet, she doesn’t chew, she loves to cuddle, she doesn’t jump up on the counters to try to get food nor does she rush her food bowl. She follows me from room to room just to sleep at my feet. She goes straight into her crate when I ask her to. She follows me into the bathroom every single time to make sure I’m not alone for a minute. She looks into my eyes and bares her soul to me.

And yet, I’ve felt something inside of me holding myself back from falling in love with her.

I know this is a protection mechanism on my part. I’m considering leaving LA and it will be a lot more complicated with a 50-pound dog that it will be without a 50-pound dog. And I know I’ll have to say goodbye to her soon. She already has three families who’ve met her and are interested.

But the truth is, I know that I’ve been holding myself back from fully engaging in so many things in my life.

Pink is simply allowing myself to see this pattern.

As a coach I know that one of my main priorities is to work on my own issues so I can be there for others.

In support of that, I’m consciously allowing myself to fall in love with Pink. I’m slowing down in the morning and spending some time giving her the affection she wants before we go outside. I’m letting her curl up next to me when I do my meditations, and I’m looking in her eyes and allowing us both to be seen.

I know that in a week or two I’ll turn her over to her forever home. And it will be painful to let her go. And, while she’s here- I want to love her all out. With everything I have.

It’s terrifying and exhilarating to open my heart like this.

And, for now, it’s worth it.

If you’re a woman and you’re dealing with holding yourself back in some way, I’m leading a coaching group that starts in October. We’ll dive into getting more in our lives- more love, more joy, more satisfaction.

If this intrigues you, reach out and we’ll set up some time to talk.

Hiking on a Thursday morning

What do you see when you zoom in on this photo?

I’ll tell you what I see.

Joy.

This was taken on a Thursday morning a few weeks ago. I actually blocked out time in my calendar on a workday to go on a hike with a friend.

This hike in the mountains outside of LA requires walking through a river three times. As distasteful as this was to me, I did it anyway. This photo was taken in the first crossing. Being in the water was both unnerving and exhilarating.

I’ve gone through so much of my life limiting my joy.

I told myself that in order to deserve joy I had to get more clients, or design one more best-selling handbag, or make x amount of money, or spend more time writing.

The thing about work is, there’s always more to do.

I’m realizing now that joy can co-exist with work. One doesn’t have to limit the other.

I’m looking at my calendar differently today. I schedule time in for things that I enjoy- morning runs with my latest foster dog, driving out to see the ocean on a regular basis, and getting out into nature during the week.

What I’m seeing is that the more joy I bring into my life the better my life (and my business) works.

If you believe that you’ve been limiting your joy, or your enthusiasm, or your satisfaction in life- I’m offering a small group coaching program for women starting in October.

It’s for women who want more from their lives.

Send me a message through the contact form if this calls to you.

A Dog Named Jack

Jack after a 4 mile run enjoying the flowers

What do you do when a 50 lb. bulldog is viscously attacking your precious Dyson stick vacuum cleaner while you’re still holding onto it?

This scenario was not explained in any of the requisite “how to foster a dog” videos I’d watched from multiple animal shelters to qualify to become a foster.

I reached out to every shelter I could find in March when COVID happened and applied to foster a dog. (I recently, at a low point, even applied to foster A CAT.)  I’d been trying to adopt a young adult black and white female French bulldog since January but didn’t understand the intense competition around adopting dogs in LA.  And I really want to adopt, not shop.

A few weeks ago, I finally got a call and was asked to foster a dog. I knew it was both male and over my 30 lb. limit, but I had decided before I even picked up the phone that I was tired of waiting and I was going to take whatever the rescue offered me. I was willing to surrender and stop trying to design every detail of my life.

So, that’s how I found myself in a fight to the death between a bulldog named Jack and my vacuum cleaner.

Our family had dogs when I was a child (respectable and mostly docile English Springer Spaniels) and although I’ve wanted a dog my entire adult life, I never felt like I was home enough to give a dog the love it needs to thrive. Now that I work for myself, I’m home a lot and decided late last year that it was time.

I managed to get a door between the dog and my vacuum cleaner and immediately sent a text to the shelter saying- “I don’t think this is the right fit. He attacked my vacuum cleaner and inadvertently bit me in the struggle. Can you find another foster for him?”

The shelter texted back that- “Oh yeah, my dogs don’t like vacuum cleaners either. Can you give us a week?”

I looked at Jack, still hyped up on adrenaline and wondered how he and I we were going to make it a week.

A little internet research revealed that a lot of dogs don’t love vacuum cleaners.

I also found out that this dog didn’t like hair dryers (he tried to break down the bathroom door the moment I turned my hair dryer on.) On the days I had to be on camera I figured out that if I gave him a bone and attached his leash to my Pilates reformer that I could get enough time to dry my hair before he realized what was going on.

I learned a lot about dogs over the course of the next seven days.

First- With bulldogs, liquids tend to ooze from every orifice. In addition to the drooling and the weepy eyes, I found that if I didn’t want to find tiny drops of excrement on my floors, I had to check under his tail after every walk.

Second- dogs love to roll around on their backs on yellow and white rugs they aren’t supposed to be on. It seems to make them ecstatically happy.

Third- Male dogs take eons to get all their urine out, and when they lift their legs on telephone poles or trees there is often backsplash.

Fourth- 50-pound dogs can absolutely consider themselves to be lap dogs. And- separation anxiety is REAL.

Fifth- Bulldogs are stinky. In ways I couldn’t have imagined.

But there were plenty of benefits to having Jack around as well. It was nice to have a running buddy in the morning. I learned to love the sound of him breathing at my feet while I was working. I got stopped every single time I took him out and actually talked to some of my neighbors. And, of course, he thought I was awesome.

On the third day I took him to the pet store to buy treats and toys, and on the fourth day I let him up on the couch with me in the evening.

The shelter did find another foster exactly one week later and as much as I was looking forward to deep cleaning every inch of my house (starting with vacuuming), I was surprised to find that I was also devastated. The day he left I cried and cried. How could I have bonded so deeply with this animal in only a week?

I thought about calling and getting him back for days after he left, but I knew if wouldn’t be fair to him to move him again if I wasn’t 100% sure he was the right dog for me.

Even though I wasn’t his forever home I’m grateful for the love he brought into my life and I hope he finds a family who will adore him.

And- I’m still hopeful that a reasonably-sized female French bulldog will magically appear in my life.

When Work Isn't Working...

Is work working for you right now?

I worked at my last corporate job as a fashion designer for 17 years.

I knew before I even took the job that it wasn’t the right environment for me, yet I somehow stayed there for the better part of two decades.

Why?

Because I thought it was safe.

I wanted security.

I wanted to know that I had a paycheck coming in every week.

There was a price to be paid for that “security.”

I was under a lot of stress. I was drinking too much, taking sleeping pills every night, and crying far too much inside and outside of the office.

I knew I needed to change.

But there was so much fear.

Leaving that job and becoming an entrepreneur was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.

People screamed at me- “What are you doing? How could you give up all that SECURITY?”

After one bout of breast cancer and several other health conditions I knew that I needed to leave. My body wasn’t giving me a choice. I jumped off the cliff, I pushed through the fear, and I learned how to build a business.

Here we are today, several years later and what has happened?

The vast majority of the staff in that company has been furloughed- including my old department.

My job today as an entrepreneur is actually MORE stable than that day job.

I’m not saying quit your job and start your dream business, not at all, but it’s interesting, isn’t it? That the things we think are stable truly aren’t.

Right now, people all over the world are questioning everything they thought was stable and secure.

Their health. Their finances. Their jobs. Their economies. Their freedom.

If you’ve been staying at your job because you believed in that security- tell me- how is that working for you right now?

Perhaps you’ve been laid off and you’re frantically looking for a new job or wondering if your company will make it through this to hire you back.

Or you are still working and worried about taking a pay cut or getting laid off

Or you are still working and feeling guilty because you SHOULD be grateful that you still have a job when others don’t- even if you don’t really like it.

Or you’re still working and loving working remotely and think that maybe you could make this work if it continues after quarantine.

Or you’re still working, and you realize that work is just not working for you.

No matter which category you identify with- it’s time to start working on our relationships with work.

I’m writing a series of articles about this and I’m putting together some public complimentary workshops.

Sign up for my email list at the top of this page to learn more.

Entrepreneurship in a Pandemic

This is a really interesting time to be an entrepreneur in the business of serving others. In one respect- people could use help and guidance more than ever but there is understandably often also financial constriction and fear.

I’m a life and business coach and I’m speaking today through the lens of the coaching industry, but truly everything I’m talking about is relevant for all kinds of entrepreneurs right now- anyone who relies on providing services for clients.

I’ve seen a variety of responses to the changes in our economy in the coaching landscape- some coaches seemed to pivot overnight and are now putting everything they have into programs like- How to Develop your Online Course! (And make money while you sleep).

I’ve seen coaches running fire sales on coaching.

I’ve seen coaches go completely dark and say to themselves- nobody will prioritize coaching during a pandemic, maybe I should just give up.

And I’ve seen coaches who are showing up in bigger and bolder ways than ever before- some of them are still growing their business even now, when everything is so uncertain.

I’ve had to think about who I want to be as a professional coach during this time- and who I want to be as an entrepreneur during this time. I do know that I’m not willing to simply pretend that it’s business as usual today because it’s just not.

What I am willing to do is to follow the example of some of my colleagues and show up to serve outrageously. I’ve been reaching out to leaders I admire in the world and prior clients and just offering them time with me. No strings, no agenda. (If you’re a leader in the world and would like some- no strings attached- time with me- reach out. I make time in my calendar every week for this.)

As our medical professionals are on the front lines for our physical health, I feel like I’m on the front lines for our collective mental health. In some ways I, too, am an essential worker.

My coach tells me this- people will never forget how you show up for them during this time.

For me, part of navigating through this pandemic is coming down to- what do I want to be known for in six months or a year? Do I want to be the coach who hustled to maintain my client load, or do I want to be the coach who stood as an example of service in the world?

I’m dedicated to creating the latter for myself.

I’ve been working on a TEDx Talk (thank you Alexia Vernon!) about how work can be used as a catalyst for growth and I’m realizing that this topic is more important today than it’s ever been.

Every single person in the world has been questioning their relationship with work given what’s happening. Because everyone is seeing that the security they thought they had might not really be there. Or they’re wondering- if all this is coming to an end is this what I wanted?

So, my focus for the foreseeable future is to write about this thing called work and how we can shift our relationship to it.

Because this is how I can make a difference right now.

Sign up for my email list at the top of my blog page to learn more.

One Simple Mindset Shift to Transform Your Sales Process

Have you or someone in your company ever said a version of the following: 

“I hate sales.” 

“I'm not a great salesperson.” 

“If only I didn't have to SELL.” 

Just last week I was in a meeting for a new mastermind with six powerful female leaders in my community. Several of them spoke about their distaste for sales in their introductions. I hear this all the time, especially with conscious businesses.

And it’s not just women. After a conference in Portland, Oregon, I sat with two men- engineers who left their high-profile corporate jobs to start a consulting company. We were discussing their business challenges. One of them said with conviction, “Yeah, we’re not salespeople.” as the other nodded in agreement.

I took this to mean that they viewed selling as a rare and special skill they’d never possess or that selling was something they didn’t want to be good at.

As a life and business coach my immediate response when I hear a version of “I don’t like to sell” is always,

“Well, how’s that working for you?”

Because the truth is, without sales there’s no revenue. And without revenue there’s really no business.

Even if you're not an entrepreneur, as humans in our society we are constantly selling. We sell our friends on where to have drinks on Friday night. We sell our boss on approving our vacation time. We sell our children on eating their vegetables. Sales is deeply engrained in our lives.

What if the way we’ve been trained to sell in our society is fundamentally flawed?

If sales is in any way uncomfortable for you- I invite you to bring to mind a recent example of when you felt discomfort in the sales process with a potential client or customer.

What was going on for you?

Were you nervous? Awkward? Worried about what the other person might think of you? Did you want them to think you were a “nice” person? Were you concerned that they wouldn’t see the value of what you were offering? All of the above?

If any of these statements were true for you, tell me- WHO was that really about? 

Was it about your potential client or customer?

Or was it about YOU?

When we make the sales process about ourselves- OUR bank account, OUR sales quota, OUR agenda, we don’t leave room for the other person in the conversation.

As my friend and mentor Steve Chandler says, “No sale has every happened outside of a conversation.”

Even if someone clicks the buy button on your website they’ve already engaged with your copy, your reviews and your testimonials. They may have been following you on Instagram for years. There’s definitely been a conversation, both from you to them and also within them about whether or not to buy.

Here’s where the real opportunity lies. By consciously shifting this focus- from ourselves to our potential client or customer EVERYTHING can change.

Because then we naturally have to slow down and get curious about their needs and desires. And when we understand what they want and/or need we are in a better position to recognize if what we have to offer could help them.

It’s about approaching every sales conversation from a place of SERVICE rather than SELLING.

What problem or issue is this person (or company) trying to solve?

Is my product or service a good fit for their needs? Could I potentially help? 

How can I truly show up today and SERVE this person (or company)? 

Then and only then can we more deeply KNOW- would offering my product or service SERVE this situation? 

If the answer is yes, we can also see that NOT offering our product or service (if we believe it would benefit them) would be doing them a tremendous disservice. 

As a coach I am constantly bringing myself back to service in conversation with potential clients. I know it’s not about ME and MY BANK ACCOUNT. It’s not about what they think of ME. It’s not about whether they’ll tell their friends about ME. Because it’s not about ME at all. 

It’s about THEM. 

It’s about their hopes and their dreams and their challenges. And it’s about me determining, from a place of service, could I help this person? Is this person really ready to make significant changes in their life to create transformation? 

And, if the answer to those questions is yes, I feel a RESPONSIBILITY to offer my services. I know that the work we would do together could significantly change the course of his or her LIFE. Not just the six or twelve months that we work together, but it can impact a random Tuesday in 30 years. They, of course, can say, “No.” But my commitment to myself is to use the sales process as a way to serve my potential clients, even if they never decide to work with me. 

What could be possible for you if you take the focus off yourself when you’re in sales conversations and place all that focus and attention on your potential client or customer? What if you were even 5% more focused on them? What could occur? 

I’m leading an experiential workshop about this topic this week. If you’re in LA reach out to me and I’ll get you more info, there’s one spot left. And if you’d like to be on the list for the next workshop or webinar on this topic drop me a note.

I Can Bring Home the Bacon....

“I can bring home the bacon. Fry it up in a pan. And never never never let you forget you’re a man.” These inspiring lyrics were from a perfume ad that ran on television in 1979.

Many of you who may be reading this are likely not familiar with this ad. I clearly remember singing along to this catchy tune, and I also remember buying into what it was telling me- that as a woman, I would not only have to work and make money, but I would still be responsible for some of the traditional female roles- housekeeper, cook, and, of course, I would have to be sure to please my man.

The 70s were a time of tremendous change when it came to women in the workforce. Where women in previous generations were expected to stay home and take care of children and their husbands, the women’s liberation movement encouraged women to step outside of conventional roles and fulfill their own dreams- and often that included work.

When I look at society today, I wonder, how much has really changed? Most of the women I serve in my coaching practice DO a lot in their lives. They work- sometimes for less pay than men, even now. They take care of children, houses, bills, parents, car maintenance, and husbands or wives. They DO so much that when I ask them deeper questions about who they are and what they want they generally look at me blankly and whisper, “I don’t know.”

DOING without clear direction and intention is just busyness.

 In order to truly get what we really want in life we need to be willing to slow down and learn how to BE.

To BE present.

To BE compassionate with ourselves.

To BE honest about what we truly desire.

To BE ourselves

I’m leading a complimentary workshop for women on Sunday 10/27 in downtown Los Angeles that will address the disparity between being a Human DOING and a Human Being.

If you’d like to learn more about how to BE join me, it’s going to be powerful AND fun.

Click here for more information and registration- www.laurafostercoaching.com/workshop

And if you know another woman who would benefit from this day, share this with her!

Stop Should-ing All Over Yourself

I led a workshop this weekend in Portland about how easy it is as humans to unwittingly disempower ourselves through our use of language.

Have you ever found yourself saying some version of the following?

I should get up at 5 am tomorrow and go to the gym before work.

I have to stay late at the office again tonight.

I should be meditating for 20 minutes a day.

Actually, I should be meditating for 20 minutes twice a day.

I need to call my mother back.

To quote my friend and mentor Steve Chandler- "Should’ actually reduces your motivation every time you use it. ‘Should’ is the most self-defeating word in the English Language. It’s like a tranquilizer to the Spirit.”- from Reinventing Yourself

Anytime we use phrases like- “I should..” or “ I have to..” or “I need to..” it’s a sign that something inside of us is operating in victim consciousness, whether we’re aware of it or not. This type of language essentially gives our power over to someone or something outside of ourselves.

The good news is that over time we can learn to notice when we use language like this and shift into a position of empowerment for ourselves.

I worked with a client several years ago who was beating himself up because he “should” be working on a writing project that had been in process for six years.

We slowed way down and asked questions like-

What part inside of you is this coming from? Whose voice is telling you that you “should” be finishing this? Is it a parent’s voice? Is it someone else’s voice? Is it from your soul?

He realized where the “should” was coming from. And then he knew that he had a choice with how he wanted to move forward.

He didn’t “have” to finish the writing. He wanted to finish the writing. He had a deep desire inside to complete what he started.

We worked together to craft the smallest possible action step he could take to move forward.

Six months later I ran into him and the writing project he’d been “working on” for six years was complete.

All because of a shift in mindset.

This is what’s available to us when we’re willing to notice and update our language.

I’m leading a complimentary workshop in LA in early November.

If you’d like me to discuss this topic and/or if you’d like an invitation DM me or leave comment below.

On Being a Beginner Again-

I love figure drawing. When asked- “What would you do all day if you had all the money you’d ever need?” I’ve always said, “I’d spend all day figure drawing.”

There’s something magical that happens when I’m with a live nude model with a box of charcoal. I lose track of time. I notice myself singing. SINGING.

But the truth is I haven’t been to a class in over a year.

Because I’ve been too busy. Because I’ve had clients on Saturdays (the day with the most classes in LA.) but really, it’s because I haven’t made it a priority.

When I got back from Kenya (my dream vacation) I thought- what else in my life have I been putting off?

This morning I blocked out time in my calendar and I went to class.

I realized quickly that drawing, like anything else, takes practice. And I’m out of practice. I admit this took me by surprise. It was humbling, not to be the rock star in the room today. But it also allowed me the freedom to make mistakes, to experiment, to try and try and try again.

And the magic happened- when I realized I was singing I realized my soul was home.

Going forward my intention is to make figure drawing a non-negotiable in my calendar every week. Because I know that sometimes my highest paid priority is to let my soul sing.

Is there something you love that you’ve been denying yourself? Leave me a note in the comments.

Elephant Crossing

We were surrounded by a herd of around 40 elephants last night. At first we just saw a few in the bush but then we realized there were many more. 

We’re at a private game reserve further east in Kenya now, and yesterday we may have been the only jeeps on safari. 

The animals here are not as used to humans. They’re more wild. This is a reserve dedicated to wildlife protection, not for tourism. Yesterday morning a huge herd of buffalo ran when the saw us. Hundreds of them dashing through their watering hole then turning back and standing their ground, firm. Stern. 

Even the zebras run from us here. The giraffes, however, they stand tall and simply watch us with curiosity. 

We went looking for elephants on our way back into our camp in the reserve yesterday so when we saw what we thought were just a few we were thrilled. Dazzled. 

But then we realized how many elephants were around us. And there were many babies. 

I was filled with a sense of peace and calm. It was almost overwhelming, being surrounded with all that beauty. All that majesty. All that power. 

And really- all that authenticity. These elephants are, as all wild animals are, simply themselves. They don’t wonder what their purpose is here. They don’t take quizzes in the back of Cosmopolitan magazine to see what their gifts are or try to ascertain how to live their best life.  

They just move through this world as elephants. They eat, they sleep, they walk thousands of miles, and they protect their babies and their families. And they love. Deeply. 

The herd started to get anxious after we’d been there awhile. One of the females came out and stomped her feet at us while trumpeting, telling us to stay away from their babies. A large male used his trunk and his tusks to knock over a small tree to show us his strength- his dominance. 

I felt fear rise in me. We all knew our lives were in the hands of our drivers. 

Then this happened. Part of the herd has been separated on the other side of the road. Almost in military formation, this group crossed the road between our two jeeps. Babies nestled between the adults, everyone looking out for each other. One of the females at the end came back out into the road, circling around to ensure everyone made it across, that everyone was safe. 

We spent a few more minutes with them, keeping our distance, and relishing every last moment we could just be in the presence of these magnificent creatures of love. 

We were pretty quiet driving back to camp, each of us processing in our own way the gravity of what we had the privilege to witness. 

Kenya, I will never forget you. 

The Perception of Time

The Perception of Time

I am sitting on the floor of the Amsterdam airport on my way to Kenya for a safari. This trip has been on my bucket list since I was a child, but that is another story.

After about 36 hours of travel, at 11:30 pm local time last night, I turned to a group of 3 fellow passengers and said, “Well, that is one of the worst airline experiences I’ve ever had.” And one of them pointed to his new friends and said- “I thought it was great. We got to know each other. Nobody was injured.”

I was reminded of the power of mindset. He and I experienced exactly the same circumstances yesterday- our flight from Amsterdam to Kenya turned around after 2 hours because of a notification about tire pressure. Then the captain decided to make an emergency stop in Frankfurt because it was closer than Amsterdam and he was concerned about our safety. The fire brigade was called. When we landed the entire plane erupted in applause. We were safe.

Our carrier, KLM, doesn’t have much clout in Frankfurt. The correct tire had to be located outside the airport and brought in. We all waited over four hours on the tarmac until a tire was found and installed.

Some of the most uncomfortable situations for me are in those places in between- in the transitions of time between getting to the airport and being on the plane, or in standing outside a spin class waiting for them to open the room. There seems to be a part of me that shuts down in these situations. So much of my thinking is on where I want to get TO- it’ll be great WHEN I’m sitting on the spin bike with my favorite spin instructor in the front of the room, that I don’t pay attention to where I am in the NOW. I don’t focus on conversations, and I find myself half engaging, and just trying to get THROUGH these places in between.

Yesterday, in that four hours on the tarmac, there was plenty of time for me to just sit in this discomfort. In my Master’s Program in Spiritual Psychology I was well trained that when discomfort like this arises- school is in session, there is something to learn. I had a choice. I could let my compulsive and anxious tendencies take over or I could find a way through this pattern.

None of us knew how long it would take to get the tire fixed. At first there was optimism- maybe it would happen like a racetrack and we could get back on course before the crew timed out. But by the time they opened the doors to let in a breeze I knew, as we all did, that we would be spending the night somewhere other than Kenya.

I did finally stand up with and engage in conversations with others. We talked about nothing really, the superiority of Emirates Airlines (of course), what it’s like to teach English in Kenya, and why we were all traveling. I spoke with several people I realize I’d severely misjudged when we boarded the plane together, including a mother with two rambunctious young boys. Once I spoke with her, I found out how much we have in common- she’s also a coach. Honestly, this has always been the case with me- it’s easy to judge someone I don’t know, but when I spend time with people, I always find something to love.

I begrudgingly accepted the fact that I wouldn’t be joining my group at the Giraffe Manor or the baby elephant sanctuary today. I gave up any illusion that I was in control of what would happen and as Michael Singer so beautifully exemplified in his book “The Surrender Experiment” I surrendered. I consciously chose to use this experience for my own growth.

The tire was repaired, the crew timed out, and we flew back to Amsterdam to spend the night. Thankfully they were able to reschedule our flight. The captain apologized profusely and promised we would all be well taken care of.

When we landed, I waited in line with the other 400 people on the plane to get hotel vouchers, then we waited another hour for a hotel bus, and of course, there was another line to check into our rooms. This morning was more of the same- over an hour to get back through security and clear customs, and then a gate change that pushed us back another hour.

A few years ago I would have been pushing ahead of the crowd to be first or demanding a better room or gaming the system by changing my seat again this morning.

Not today. Today I am sitting on the floor typing this while my new friends, the passengers of KLM flight 568 pass by me and smile. Some say hello and exclaim, “We made it!” I’m happy to see them. Now they feel like my people.

As far as I know, nothing tragic happened from this delay. Everyone will simply push their lives back by one day.

But I’m taking away a new awareness about those places in between. These bits of time between this and that. I can bring a new awareness to this time. It’s now a place to slow down and be present. To surrender. To see another human beyond what I assume about them.

To just be. With me.

It’s my Cancerversary. Help me celebrate!

 11 years ago today I was diagnosed with breast cancer.

To celebrate this anniversary, I’m doing something I’ve never done before. I’m opening up my calendar and challenging myself to give away up to 30 free coaching sessions in the next 30 days. While I’m grateful for my recovery, I’m even more grateful for how my diagnosis offered me the opportunity to change my life.

In 2007 I had what I thought was my dream job. I was a fashion designer who got paid to draw and create every day. I was traveling to Paris and Milan on a regular basis. I would walk down the street and see customers wearing the handbags that I had designed.

From the outside it looked like I had made it.

But the truth is- I was burned-out, overwhelmed, angry, and most of all, frustrated and deeply disappointed because I felt like I was FAILING at life.

I was plagued with anxiety that I didn’t know how to manage. I couldn’t sleep, so I took sleeping pills every night, washed down with what I knew was an irresponsible third glass of wine.

I wasn’t confident that my creativity was valuable, so I overcompensated. I thought, if I just worked HARDER and DID more that things would get better.

So, I worked more. I took fashion magazines home at night and actually read them, cover to cover. I spent Saturdays and sometimes Sundays as well shopping the stores. No matter how hard I worked, though, it never seemed like it was enough.

On this day in 2007, I was on vacation in Maui when I received the phone call notifying me that I had cancer. My first thought was- I don’t have time to deal with this. When my surgeon suggested a few days later that we schedule the surgery for the following week I actually said, “I can’t do that, I just took a week off for vacation, I can’t take more time off.”

One of the things that nobody talks about is that as a cancer patient EVERYTHING takes time. I wasn’t given a treatment plan on day one. It was a slow arduous process that took weeks and weeks. It was in that place of the uncomfortable unknown when I realized that the last thing I wanted etched into my tombstone if I didn’t make it was- “Here lies Laura Foster. She worked weekends.”

I decided to make a change. For me, it started with remembering who I am outside of the work that I do- in learning how to become a Human BEING rather than a Human Doing. Then I learned how to stop living as a victim and to embrace that I am the creator of my own life.

I did the inner work necessary to drastically alter how I was showing up in the world. Everything shifted. Instead of feeling like I’m failing at life, I now feel a deep sense of purpose with more joy and satisfaction than I ever though possible.

I believe that this type of transformation is available to everyone.

I became a life coach because I am passionate about helping men and women who feel any part of what I felt in 2007 find their way out of feelings like burnout, overwhelm, anger, and disappointment and create lives where they can learn to thrive.

I focus on helping executives, professionals, and entrepreneurs who feel like they work a lot (or think about work a lot) create profound, lasting change.

I can’t think of a better way to celebrate my recovery and give back for the lessons I’ve learned than by offering my time to do what I love best- coaching.

There is no fee for these sessions and there are no strings attached. This is my way of celebrating and giving back.

If this resonates with you or if you’d like to extend this offer to someone in your world, here are the steps to take-

Don’t leave a comment on this post. E-mail me at laurafosterdesigns@gmail.com and let me know how you heard about this challenge.

I will then send you a link to my online scheduling system so that you can schedule a call with me.

Happy Cancerversay to me and here’s to 11 more years!

Me Too

Me too. Not once, not twice, not dozens of times.

Thousands of times.

If you haven’t been on social media in a few days, there is a flurry of women coming forward with the words “Me too.” The call to action was a post that said in part-

If all the women who have been sexually assaulted or harassed wrote “Me Too” as their status, we might give people a sense of the magnitude of the problem.

I’ve read so many posts from my friends, some brief and some heart-wrenchingly long, and I felt called to share my story as well.

When I was six years old my cousin and I who both had super short hair were physically pushed aside by a couple of older women so they could get to my younger sister with her curly blonde hair so they could rave about how beautiful she was. Ah. Girls need to have long hair and they need to be beautiful.

When the boys in middle school snapped my bra strap this fueled my suspicion that my body and my feelings about my body were not my own.

When a man tried to rape me at nineteen I blamed myself. I shouldn’t have worn that outfit, and I shouldn’t have gone into a room alone with him.

When the men in the Army National Guard who didn’t want women in the military disparaged me within hearing distance and laughed raucously I simply pretended I couldn’t hear them. I was on their turf. I had to be careful.

When a man who is in a position of authority over me said a couple of months ago when I didn’t immediately voice an opinion on something when he asked- “Just like a woman. (You) don’t know what to say. Just like a woman.”

When ALL the men (and women) over the years have said some version of- “You’d be so much more attractive if you just smiled.” I’ve thought, Oh. I need to be nicer. That’s right. Women need to be NICE.

And so much more.

I learned young that in order to make it in our society I had to steel myself before I left the house every day. To watch where I went and when. To temper my voice and my opinions so I wouldn’t offend not just the men in the room but the women who were trying to make it in a man’s world. I learned how to pretend not to hear. Not because it was the right thing to do but because it was… easier. It was easier than getting in a fight, than defending myself, than standing up for what I knew was right. It will blow over. This too shall pass. They don’t really mean it. Boys will be boys.

I agree that bringing awareness to the magnitude of this problem is a step in the right direction.

And I could end this post here and I might have friends leave a Heart Icon in the comment section or even a {{{{{{{HUG}}}}}}}

But my story doesn’t stop there.

Yes. I have been the victim of sexual assault and sexual harassment.

But if you were to ask me if I’ve ever been the perpetrator of sexual harassment I would have to say, “Yes.”

Me Too.

In my past I admit that I have gossiped and called other women a B**ch or a Sl*t . In doing so I was not only harassing the woman I was talking about but I was also influencing whoever I was talking to, man or woman.

I’ve seen other women being harassed and I’ve said nothing.

I have been part of the problem.

And, then there’s one of my biggest secrets and deepest regret-

When I was in sixth grade my family moved to a new town. There was a girl in my new class who was physically fully developed and the other girls used to make fun of her. I remember so clearly being in a group of girls surrounding her on the playground chanting terrible things at her about her body while she stood there sullenly, shoulders slumped, hearing our cruel words in her soul.

I knew what I was doing was wrong. I felt it in my blood. But I wanted to be cool. I wanted to be liked. I wasn’t the instigator, I was just a follower.

Years later I ran into this girl and felt my face flush with shame. To my great surprise she lit up with joy when she saw me. I wanted to apologize, to assuage my own guilt, but I didn’t want to make her revisit something that she may have forgotten or released. So, I smiled and made small talk with her.

A few years ago, I earned a Master’s Degree in Spiritual Psychology. I’ve forgiven myself for my actions in sixth grade. The truth is that I was doing the best I knew how to do at the time.

But, as Oprah says, “When you know better, you do better.”

Now I know better. I can’t change the past but what I can do is take responsibility for my actions in the future.

I can take ownership of the way I speak about other women. I can speak up when I am the victim of harassment or when I witness harassment of another woman.

I have a voice. I will use it.

Me too.

Christmas on a Fire Truck

In the spirit of the holidays, here's a post from the archives-

For the last five years or so my department at work has come together at Christmas to support families in a small trailer park by our office. We found out about these families through our local fire chief so every year he arranges a fire truck and a Santa to deliver the gifts we collect to the children in this park. We can usually coerce six or seven people to leave our busy office to ride on the truck and help Santa pass out the gifts to the children. Let me tell you, riding on top of a fire truck is pretty fun. Seeing the faces of the children when a fire truck drives up their driveway with Santa on top is fantastically fun.

This year we decided to try to help this small community beyond supplying gifts to the children. Everyone brought in little luxuries to make gift bags for the families. Luxuries like chocolates and Christmas cookies and handmade fleece blankets. In addition to providing gift bags for the families with children we decided to make gift bags for the trailers without children as well. Year after year the people in those trailers have come out to watch us take care of the families with children and been happy that they were getting support. Everyone in our department came together to put the gift bags together. We were all excited to know that this would be a complete surprise for absolutely everyone in the trailer park.

We also took up a collection to provide gift cards for a local grocery store so that the families could buy supplies for a nice holiday meal. We’ve done this in the past but we wanted to make a bigger impact this year so we set a pretty high monetary goal for the department.

I was particularly struck by the generosity of a woman I work with. She didn’t bring me money for the collection until the very last day. She apologized and explained that she thought she was going to have to tell me that she just wasn’t in a position to contribute this year but at the very last second miraculously the money appeared. She gave me more than we requested so I offered her change. She insisted that we use it all for the gift cards. She was honored to give more than her share.

A few of us rode on the fire truck today with Santa to deliver everything to the trailer park. It is always incredible to see the children accept their gifts from Santa. For many of them, the gift we give them will be their only gift for Christmas so we all know that it is very special to them. The parents always hang back, taking photos and letting their children have their moment in the sun. Today, however, the parents were all called forward and presented with a gift bag and a gift card for food. They were surprised and grateful.

After all the families with children had received their gifts we started calling forward the homes without children. The first house number we called was that of an elderly couple standing in the background. They couldn’t believe that their names were being called. They slowly came to the fire truck to receive their own gift bag and gift card. At first they were shy and trepidatious, but when Santa handed them the gift bag I saw in their eyes that in that moment they too, felt that they were special. They understood that other people in the world took the time to make sure that they were cared for. It was stunningly beautiful.

Every single person that we gave gift bags and gifts to in that little trailer park on the side of a major city street accepted their gifts with grace and honor. I’ve seen children tear through a dozen gifts on Christmas morning and barely realize what they’ve received. Today I know that every gift was special. Every gift was appreciated. And every recipient felt valued.

This, for me, is the true nature of the holiday spirit. It’s not in what we get this holiday season. The real joy is in what we give.