At some point I'm certain I will post entertaining commentary on an evening out on the town...but at the moment I can't pull that off.

I have always been good in a crisis. Seriously, I am pretty amazing:-) That being said, I've wondered over these last months why I feel so persistently inept at navigating this season at all - nevermind gracefully. I am still amazed at my ability to feel stoic one minute and entirely fall apart the next.

Several years ago I read a book called Leadership on the Line, by Ron Heifetz and Marty Linsky. It's all about this framework called adaptive leadership. The one concept that has been haunting me as of late is their idea that in order to exercise leadership you have to increase your ability to absorb and tolerate heat. It's an interesting concept...that in order to help people to truly grow and develop and thrive I have to be able to tolerate increasing amounts of heat (read disequilibrium, tension, stress, all-out disintegration!) so that I can hold myself and others to the work that really matters.

Fast forward to the last few months and my identity crisis over why I can't be the rockstar I've always told myself I am in a crisis. I'm beginning to think that it's because crises are often shortlived events, moments in time that pass relatively quickly. This season...my brother's cancer, family realities, work stuff...it doesn't seem to have an end. I can't just buck up and stick it out for 2 days or 2 weeks or even 2 months.

The diagnosis of Stage IV metastatic colorectal cancer in my brother's lung was in a way a sort of momentary crisis. Even the surgery to remove the tumor and half of his lung was another crisis of sorts. So I could sit in the waiting room, make calls for my parents, update folks on his progress...I could be steadfast and confident in those crisis. I could even raise money for LIVESTRONG and run the Chicago Marathon for Steve (http://run.livestrong.org/teamls2011/janetkafkas).

But I can't execute my way through my "little" brother having a cancer that may not go away. My only option is to be delusional (not my first choice!)...or to figure out a way to absorb the heat so the system that is me, that is my family, that is my world doesn't implode. Instead of being able to do something I find myself just needing to be present...without in fact being able to do anything at all. And I hate that. I want to fix something - not just intentionally absorb the heat that seems bound to blow up this system I dwell in...

I've been telling the story of my "paying attention" epiphany in the course of work a lot these days. If I'm really honest, it's all for my benefit. I need to remind myself that this isn't about fixing things. I can't cure Steve's cancer. I can't do chemo for him. I can't fix a multitude of other things that scream for a crisis-queen. I'm beginning to think that that isn't the work that I'm supposed to be about.

I'm beginning to think that my work is to learn to absorb the heat without trying to fix what isn't mine to fix. And it appears that it is only continuing to get hotter. The funny thing is that I've always hated the heat. Seriously, I would be totally content if the temperature never got over 65! God has a very ironic sense of humor it seems...