The Dog Days are Over: The Importance of Worthiness

The heat finally broke this past week in Boston. It’s been an incredibly hot summer, and the cool, rainy weather has been a welcome change from the oppressive, dry weather we’ve had since May. This morning, I looked at my dog, Woody, curled comfortably on the couch, no longer panting from the oppressive heat. Immediately, “The Dog Days Are Over” by Florence and the Machine began playing in my head, and I was reminded of these powerful lyrics:

Happiness hit her like a train on a track
Coming towards her stuck still no turning back
She hid around corners, and she hid under beds
She killed it with kisses and from it she fled
With every bubble she sank with her drink
And washed it away down the kitchen sink

Relatable. Before I made a commitment to change my life in February of 2020, I, too, ran away when things started to get good. Happiness was met with suspicion and avoidance. Help was pushed away. Bold ideas were shelved for some other time.

As I sang the song to myself, I was no longer focused on the cool temps and the seemingly celebratory refrain – instead, I began to consider just how these verse above applied to the challenging the last seven months have been, and the important lessons learned along the way. 

First, some back story. While walking Woody on a Tuesday night in February, I slipped on black ice and shattered my left ankle. What ensued was a series of surgeries, a tremendous amount of physical pain, and a precipitous change in how I view my career, my priorities, and my life overall. 

I couldn’t run like the song’s main character. Heck, I couldn’t even walk. But more importantly, the changes I had incorporated into my life meant that I also wouldn’t run. I resolved to face things straight on and accept the support of the community around me, both personally and professionally.

The morning after my accident, I was spiraling. Stuck in a home with countless stairs and no way to navigate them, I had no idea how I would be able to walk Woody five times a day as he was accustomed to. Suddenly, routine tasks such as grocery shopping, cooking for myself, and even showering were far more difficult than they ever were before. And, wracked with pain and unwilling to take the prescription opiates I was prescribed, I had a hard time focusing on my work.

I needed to learn a lesson fast on accepting help. 

That very morning – the one immediately following my accident, people began to offer help. 

• My dear friend @Katelyn Carveth showed up with a pickup full of food and an offer to house Woody for as long as I needed. What’s more, she offered to train him like a service dog so that, when I was literally back on my feet, he could walk alongside me as slowly as I needed, without pulling me.

• My neighbors @Stacey Kazakoff-Eigen and @JJ Kazakoff-Eigen – who had only met me the night before, while I was writhing in pain and awaiting an ambulance – organized a Meal Train for me that lasted for more than three weeks. Every night, because of them, a different neighbor came to my door with a hot dinner and a ton of well wishes.

• With our biggest event in three years looming, the pressure was on at my job – but so many people rallied to cover my responsibilities, especially @Maureen Flaherty and @Rachel Warnock. And I will be forever grateful to @Kathleen Aller, who convinced me to take medical leave.

The list goes on: a dear friend showed up with a knee scooter. My downstairs neighbor volunteered to bring me my mail nightly. @Jessica Bunker took nearly an entire week off work to help me get settled after my second surgery. 

I’ve never encountered such a show of support. And, prior to undertaking a transformation in my life that began in February of 2020, I never would have accepted any of it. You see, what began with eradicating alcohol from my life led me to all sorts of important lessons, not the least of which is worthiness.

I take up space now.

I advocate for what I want and need. 

And I accept (and ask for) help when I need it. 

When I talk about my coaching practice, I can at times revert to the specific offerings. Media and speaker training. Job and transition coaching. Helping clients change their relationships with alcohol. But, behind all of this is helping individuals overcome fear and foster a sense of worthiness – and accepting help from folks who can help and give it willingly.

So, amidst the gut-it-out urges of hustle culture, how are you bucking the status quo? How are you stepping into your worthiness and either asking for help or accepting it when it’s offered? Have you found that it’s a sign of weakness, or, rather, something that helps you advance your career and show true leadership?

For me, worthiness propelled my career to take a bold turn: to bring my 25 years of professional experience to the world through this coaching practice. And, now that I’m now reunited with a much more subdued, trained version of Woody, receiving the help that’s offered, and stepping into my own worthiness as a coach, the dog days are indeed over. It’s through my own lessons in worthiness that I’m able to help others with their own.

Whether you’re seeking to take the stage to move an audience, change your relationship with drinking, or wondering how understanding worthiness can help you advance your career, Obsidian Coaching can help. Schedule a free, no-obligation consultation here.