Who am I?

I've written before about my friend and mentor, Donna Cohen.  As a sales trainer, she taught all her clients that it's easy to confuse identity with the roles we play in life. Her advice was to separate self-esteem and self-worth from our roles and jobs.

When I visited her in early July, we sat at her kitchen table.  She and her husband, Bill, had new thoughts on this topic. They knew I was struggling with my own identity in the face of many life changes.  I had been a high-powered executive and was over-identified with that role.  I had been a daughter and lost my dad.  I had been a granddaughter and lost my grandmother.  They were experiencing it first-hand. Donna was a trainer and speaker but could no longer speak. She was a writer and could no longer hold a pencil. She was a doer and could no longer do a thing for herself or anyone else.

Barely able to get words out, she spoke of identity in terms of inner resources. It's the answer to the question, "Why do you love me?" not "What do I do well?"

She recommended this exercise:

Gather with a group of three or more people who know each other well.  Each person takes a piece of paper and writes their name on the top of the page.  Each person then passes the paper to their right.  That friend writes three things they love about the person whose name is on the top of the page.  It shouldn't be about doing, rather about inner resources and characteristics.   When three things have been written, the paper gets passed to the next person until the owner of the page gets it back.

I did this exercise with my family, and it was very interesting.  The lists included characteristics that had nothing to do with roles and jobs.  They were things like: trustworthy, engaging, inspiring, caring, gracious, funny, determined, enthusiastic.

My husband keeps the list about himself on his desk.  My kids keep theirs on their bulletin boards.   I keep mine in plain view in my office.   And when any of us start to droop and feel lost, we look at our lists.   

That conversation with Donna was a turning point for me.  And six weeks later, I lost  her to  MS and ALS.  She was  my friend and my mentor.  She was loved - not just for what she did, but for her inner resources.