When I was growing up, there weren’t all of these gathering at school in which parents have to feel constantly on the ball.  At my kids’ previous school, second grade is the year that there is a class gathering with food prepared by parents almost every month.  And not just any kind of food; it’s themed to what they are learning.  My favorite was West African Cassava Cakes, which tasted horrible, and didn’t even look appealing, but that the teacher insisted we make.  There was always the mom who managed to make her ethnic treats look and taste great, but I wasn’t one of them.  There were also often themed days, in which kids had to dress up as a famous person on Monday, wear the school colors on Tuesday, don elegant clothes on Wednesday,  and throw on pajamas on Thursday.  My fear was what if I got the days wrong and my child came dressed at Abraham Lincoln while every one else was in pajamas?

It’s all a little bit too much.

I also just got a note from my son’s director, thanking the parents for sending snacks with their kids for the long rehearsals they have had.  Um, I’m haven’t sent in any snacks. It never occurred to me. And to think I was so proud of dealing with scheduling the hand surgeon for my daughter with her broken finger and sending the check for the France trip.  But then I had this realization: whatever you do will never be enough.  Not for you or for anyone.  There’s always more that you could be doing.

This is why people look so exhausted all the time.  They are wacking away at all the balls, keeping them in the air.  And they are taking on concerns that aren’t theirs, like whether school robotics club will happen this year, and whether their friends’ marriage is breaking up, or whether a neighbors’ house should be condemned because it’s in such bad disrepair.  I used to do that, until I got a painful eye condition.  Part of healing for me involves letting balls drop and not taking stuff on that I don’t need to take on.  I no longer respond to emails within the hour, as though I had a gun pressed to head.  I no longer need to solve everyone’s marriage and financial issues.  It’s not easy to change, but I’m doing it.  Today I walked by the dilapidated house on my walk home and didn’t take it on.

This applies to major issues in the world too.  I can’t solve global poverty and the plight of the polar bears, and the transgender fight, and all the racism and violence in our world.  But, I can be kind. I can raise my kids to treat others fairly and be open minded, I can vote and march and write.  I can focus on a being that person who is bringing good energy to the world, not complaining about the weather and housing prices and whether men listen– all things I can’t control.

The reality is, we can control so little.  Starting with a calm mind is a great start, since we can’t offer peace if we don’t have it.

As you think about the work you want to bring to the world stage, think about all the balls you are juggling and how many of them you can let go of.  If you look carefully, you’ll realize that you don’t have to do everything asked of you.  Yes, bringing African-themed cookies is essential for your second grader– and we thankfully got all those years of gatherings right.  But once they are in sixth grade and the teacher doesn’t bother to tell you, let alone your son, a few Tic-Tacs is good enough.  One fewer ball to carry.  Figure out your should’s and let go of those.  The world needs you to be lighter so that you don’t bring more burdens, but instead your humor, your joy and your gifts.

What I’ve come to realize is that there is literally no perfect time, and most times are very imperfect as a choice.  Right now my daughter has a broken finger that is not healing, my son has the flu, my husband is overwhelmed by work and badly needs a haircut, and I have a sore throat and feel guilty I’m not spending time with my sick child (who just wants to be on his iPad anyway because he feels so lousy.) But my dream is to get my writing and coaching out more fully into the world, as well as relaunch my performing career. I have some important deadlines, so I am at my desk working.  Have I washed my hair?  No.  Have I been to church much in the past few months?  Um nope.  Are dinners starting to look strange again, because they consist of odds and sods from the fridge?  Yes.  But I feel alive in a way that I would not have if I hadn’t insisted that NOW is the time to commit 1,000% to work that matters to me, even if I drop some balls. Now is not the time to rearrange my spices or spends hours on Facebook or offer to volunteer for something.  Just as going to Target is, what my husband calls, “death by 1,000 paper cuts,” since all those cheap items add up to A LOT at the register, all of the little things we do on our “to do” lists add up to a whole lot of nothing unless we’re careful.

It helps me to remember that Mozart wrote beautiful music while mostly broke, and he didn’t wait to get all of his finances in order to compose.  Beethoven wrote while deaf, and he didn’t wait for a cure to get going.  He sawed the legs off his piano to hear the floor vibrations.  Louisa May Alcott didn’t wait until she recovered from mercury poisoning or had found a suitable husband in order to write.  Eleanor Roosevelt didn’t wait until she was pretty or had others’ approval before she became one of the greatest stateswomen of our time. And, great artists ranging from Alvin Ailey to Jackson Pollack to Nina Simone to Frank Sinatra all had bi-polar disorder. But they did their art anyway and the world benefitted from their genius.  Instead of hiding, they did what Carrie Fisher advised: “Take your broken heart and turn it into art.”

The fact is, someday when we die, are people going to comment on how organized your desk was or how detailed your packing lists were?  Or, are they going to remember that your face lit up when you saw your kids and that you took that trip to travel the world and that you started that business and wrote that book and got back onstage and sang? To find your world stage, remember that the time is now, even though nothing is ever perfect about right now.  Grab this moment anyway, in all of its messy imperfection, and don’t let go.  This is your chance to make your mark.  Now go do it.

Today as I was shopping for Christmas gifts at Target, I realized the whole Bruins hockey team was in the toy section with me buying toys for underprivileged kids.  At first I just thought it was a few guys dressed up in Bruins jerseys, but once I saw about 20 of them and realized that they looked big and muscular, I figured they were the real team. I am not someone who plays hockey and I have only been to one pro hockey game in my life– the New York Rangers on a double date, which was not the most romantic setting because of all the drunken guys surrounding us shouting. Even though two of my nephews play hockey, as well as their parents, I always figured that hockey players were rough and tough and not that smart.  But as I was moving through the toy section, I overheard two of the Bruins players discussing what to get for two little girls they were trying to buy for.  One was asking the other, “Do you know where the princess shoes and the pink nail polish is?”  It was the sweetest thing seeing these big athletic men who were completely absorbed in finding something special for a few little girls in need.  As I made my way to the games section, a player named Domenic Moore was selecting toys while cameras were filming him.  The helpers from Target were trying to suggest games and he kept asking, “But are they educational?  I want to make sure they are learning something.”  So I interjected, “I would go with Scattergories, since it’s a game that makes you think. My teen and preteen love it.”  He wanted to know how old my kids were and how smart.  I said, “Smart!”  He smiled a big smile.  I added, “So you play hockey?”  He smiled and said yes, even though it was probably obvious to everyone else in the store.  “And you’re on the Bruins.”  “Yes,” he answered smiling again.  “Sorry I’m not that into hockey. I’m more into the arts.”  “That’s ok, he said.” And that was it.  Because of one pro hockey team buying toys for needy kids, all of whom were polite and dedicated to the task of helping kids, I became a hockey fan too, and have decided that the players are lovely and smart.  (Dominic actually went to Harvard.)

I’ve now encountered two famous people in one week.  My daughter couldn’t get enough hearing about Gisele, and my son was so excited to hear about the Bruins, even though he is not a hockey player, since sports are still just something he knows and cares about.  I learned that things are not as they seem, that famous people can be warm and lovely and accessible, but that the fame machine has changed our perception of them so often.  I also learned that it’s disarming to famous people not to be fawned over.  I’ll never forget when my grandfather met my sister’s college roommate, Jodie Foster, at Yale graduation.  He had no idea that she was a famous actress at the time, so he said, “And who might you be?” when she hadn’t introduced herself.  She was very pleased to say, “I’m Jodie.  Jodie Foster.  I’m an actress.” I’m guessing for Gisele, it was a relief to be surrounded by a mostly international crowd, many of whom don’t follow her husband’s football career and don’t care much about modeling.  She could just be a mom and a health nut and talk to us as though she was sharing with a girlfriend.  Likewise, for Dominic, I’m sure he appreciated that I was just helping him find a board game, and that I was not that into hockey.  It’s always charming to be fearless and just be yourself.

To find your world stage, remember that the goal isn’t fame, because the fame machine of publicists and crazy fans and toxic press and paparazzi, isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.  The goal is to use your gifts to make the world a better place, whether it’s acting, playing hockey, modeling and now advocating for the environment and children, or anything else. Things are not always as they seem, and it’s a gift when you get to peer behind the curtain to see the real thing.

Two years ago, just after having read this book for the first time, I flew home with my two children but without my husband from Tokyo to Newark en route to Boston.  The 13 hour flight from Tokyo had terrible turbulence the entire flight and the food was terrible, so that when we landed, the kids felt sick and exhausted.  But because of our quick lay-over, we had to push our way through customs and immigration and then run for our next flight.  My 11 year-old daughter felt panicked and sick when we boarded the flight to Boston at the last minute.  (We were so late, everyone was seated and ready to go and the doors were closing.) We were just about to sit down in our seats when my daughter collapsed in the aisle. In that moment, everything went to slow motion as I looked at my child, out stone cold.  I had no idea what had happened and was terrified.  I turned to a plane packed with 300 people and shouted at the top of my lungs, “Is there a doctor on board?”  Another few seconds went by slowly with no one responding, until finally a doctor’s hand went up, a pediatric cardiologist, and then a nurse.  (The flight attendants, who are trained for emergencies, had zero interest in helping.)  The nurse asked the flight full of people who had Benadryl, since my daughter was awake by then but having an allergic reaction. 25 people raised their hands.  I surveyed the hundreds of people witness to this emergency, and most people were looking down at their phones, pretending that nothing was happening at all.  And 10% looked actively pissed that this little girl was getting in the way of their travel plans.  And there it was:  10% helped, 80% ignored the problem, and 10% got in the way.

The good news is that my daughter was fine– she had fainted and was having a mild allergic reaction to something she had eaten.  I later learned what happened to the nice doctor who helped us and even advocated for us to be able to stay on that flight since my daughter was now fine.  (We were ultimately kicked off the flight and had to wait another few hours until my daughter was deemed safe to fly).  But when the Middle Eastern doctor went to the cockpit to talk to the pilot, they thought he might be a terrorist, so they pushed him back to his seat.  I learned about this because he is colleagues with my friend’s husband. I never forgot how people acted on that plane.  And I remembered from the book that in a life or death situation in which you are trying to survive, some people will be there to help, but most people will get in your way, so you need to be able to advocate for yourself and have a plan.

As you think about what your world stage is, however large or small, remember that you want to always be and surround yourself with the top 10%, not just in emergencies, but in life in general.  There will always be the 10% who get in the way of your dreams, as well as the 80% who don’t understand the urgency of your dreams, thinking that you have all the time in the world to do what you love, so why not just wait another 10 years? 10% will be supportive of you and act on their own dreams as well.  Those are the people to surround yourself with. If you commit to being the top 10%, nothing can stop you.

I founded World Stage Coaching because I believe that so many of us are afraid to show our true light, so we hide and sometimes settle for less.  Henry David Thoreau once wrote, “Most men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them.” As a singer/songwriter/vocal coach who has helped people to find their voices in a literal and figurative way, I started World Stage Coaching to encourage clients to claim their world stage, in whatever way that means to them.  (See www.worldstagecoaching.com).

Now that my blog, Your World Stage, is finally live to extended family and friends, I encourage you to ask yourself and your friends, “what is your world stage?”  We all have dreams, but some are more buried than others.  The first step to claiming your world stage is to dust off those dreams or create new ones if the old ones no longer apply.  What would you do if you knew you couldn’t fail?  What would you do if you had one year to live? How do you want to be remembered? What were you born to do?

As you step onto your world stage, remember how important generosity is to your success. Remember to be the spark for someone else.  You don’t even have to wait to do that.  You can do that right now, giving money or time to a charity or organization that matters to you.  Even if you’re not sure what your dream is yet, you can be part of someone else’s dream in the meantime by giving.

The first step is to stop waiting for the world to change and imagine that the world is waiting for you to take the next step.  What would happen if you were the spark that ignited real change?  Today, be the spark and see what happens.

As a performer with lots of experience on stage, one of the first things I ever learned was to 1) claim my stage (in other words, allow myself to take up space on the stage) and 2) to find my light and place myself in it so that I could be seen.  This renowned speaker did neither of these things.  And the strangest thing was that the mostly female audience didn’t even seem to notice.

The speaker not only couldn’t be seen, but her powerpoint has so many light colored fonts, that much of what she presented couldn’t be read either.  Not only was she not seen, but she didn’t seem to see us either, in the sense of doing her homework and understanding her audience before she spoke.  Many of her jokes were directed to Jewish people, references the fact that our town is probably 30% Jewish.  But the only 70% of us in the audience were left… well, in the dark.  And she apologized for her presentation, that she didn’t have a great ending, that she couldn’t come up with an example for something, that she ran over time.  I was surprised that she didn’t apologize for taking up space in the wings.

The point of this is not to bash this speaker, who made some great points and was well-received.  But, if a well-regarded national speaker shows up like this, chance are that many of us show up similarly in our lives.  How many of us apologize, or metaphorically speak from the wings, as though we’re not really meant to be on stage?  How many of take the time to understand our audience, whether it’s a room full of colleagues or our own child?  The fact is what we say matters, but how we say it matters even more.  You can make the best tasting cereal in the world, but if the package looks like garbage (real or metaphorical), people aren’t going to buy it.  If you have a great message, but we can’t see you and don’t feel that you see us, how powerful is it going to be?

To claim your world stage, remember:  1) find your light 2) make sure you’re onstage and not backstage and 3) don’t apologize and 4) know your audience.  Remember the world is waiting for you.  It’s up to you to claim your place.

If we aren’t doing them, then they aren’t important to us.  So if you’re not learning Chinese or becoming a better potter, maybe that’s because it’s not important to you.  But what if they are important?  What if what you’re really saying is, “It’s important to me but it’s too hard to do, so I’m not going to do it.” What then?

Tony Robbins is famous for having asked this question to his audiences:  “How long would you give your average baby to walk?” He gives suggestions, such as a month, a few months, up to a year.  His audience always responds with, “Are you kidding?  There’s no time limit.  My baby is going to learn to walk no matter how hard it is and how long it takes.”  And then Tony’s response is “Interesting.”

What if we came up with excuses as to why our baby wasn’t going to walk?  Would we have a human race in which 99% learn to walk?  What if we let go of our excuses and realized that the most important things are often the hardest, but in doing them, they are usually the most worthwhile?  How about being married 50 years?  Or raising great kids?  Or starting a company?  How many of those are easy to do or have guaranteed results?

To step onto your world stage, you must let go of excuses and know that you will learn to walk metaphorically, and that the world is waiting for your next steps.  So next time you catch yourself saying that you’re not good at something, either accept that it doesn’t matter to you or realize that it does and make a commitment to do something about it today.

Henry David Thoreau, even in the 1840’s, felt that he needed to simplify and get away from the hustle of Concord so that he could think and write. It did help that Thoreau did not have to do a lot of chores, since he regularly walked into town for dinner and conversation with friends (he was not in fact a hermit) and that his mother did his laundry!  (One way to simplify definitely is to delegate chores to others if possible.)  But he realized how important it is to slow down, spend more time in nature, and have time to reflect on one’s life: “I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.”

How many of us are so scheduled that we are doing a lot but not really living?  The fact is that our in boxes will still be full someday when we die.  Do you really want people to remember you for how much you jammed into a day? All of us want meaning in our lives and yet, in the day-to-day hustle, it’s easy to forget.

In order to clear the path to your ideal life, one important step is to build in time for silence and reflection, even if it’s just a few minutes per day.  Make time to be outside, to play with your kids, to do something creative.  These are the moments you will remember, not plowing through your to do list.  Every day, ask yourself, “What can I let go of?  What doesn’t really matter to me?” Doing this clears a path to what does matter.

When I lived in New York City after college, I rode the subway a lot to and from my job and navigated the crowded commuter trains.  What I’ll never forget is how many women took up half a seat or didn’t even claim an empty seat that opened up, whereas the men often took two seats and grabbed the free seats.  The men would really spread out in their seats too, with their legs spread apart and their hands crossed behind their heads with elbows out.  There’s now a term for it– Manspreading– because it’s still a huge problem.  But why aren’t women claiming their space?

Marianne Williamson, a spiritual writer and speaker, wrote once, “Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.  Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.”  She goes on to write that we often think, “Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous?  Actually who are you not to be?” How many of us apologize for ourselves because we’re afraid that if we shine too brightly, we might overshadow someone else.  What would happen if we really did let ourselves shine?

As you contemplate stepping onto your world stage, remember that a stage can only really light up if the people on it allow themselves to shine.  And it’s when we shine that we allow others to see their brilliance.

Notice when you want to play small and try this week to play big.

As business philosopher, Jim Rohn, once said, “You are the average of the five people you spend the most time with.”  Some of us have dreams we haven’t taken seriously because the people around us are too busy expecting us to be there for them, or to just sit around and be stuck, because that will make them feel better.  Making changes and going to the next level of success can be very tough, because it sometimes means making new choices about how you spend your time and with whom.  If people expect you to be the friend who is always there for them and you’re now working 24/7 to finally get that novel done or to launch the new business, they may be hurt.  This is where setting kind but firm boundaries and saying no more often is helpful.  If we don’t set those boundaries that allow for our dreams to flourish, we can easily get pulled back into what is comfortable and easy–which is not writing, not working, not achieving.  We want to be the good friend, the caring parent, the helpful person who never says no.  But is it worth it, just so that we can be the person who is always there no matter what for everyone?

At the end of your life, do you want to have gone for your dreams or pleased everyone around you?  You get to choose, but it’s not possible to do both. The family and friends who really care about you will respect your new boundaries and cheer you on as you say yes to yourself, one step at a time.  The others will fall away. In order to move to your world stage, you have to consciously choose who gets to come with you and whom you need to leave behind.  So this week, raise your standards for what you can and will achieve and notice who is still standing beside you.