Leadership Upper Valley
In 2024, I was shifting into a brand new stage of my life. I was freshly emerging from many years focused on parenting. I was in my late 40's but felt like I had just graduated from college. I was out on the open road of my life and heading into the future! But somehow it was not necessarily like what you see in the movies. I wanted it to play out like I was the main character flying along in my convertible with my hair victoriously blowing in the wind. But I was concerned it could go another way. I hoped it would not end up with the hero unexpectedly dangling off a cliff and needing to be rescued by a SWAT team with a helicopter. It was touch and go.
Over many years of parenting, while buttering toast and listening to the ambient strains of bickering interspersed with PBS Kids, I would daydream about this impasse. I would wonder if I would be offered a chance to return to my original aspiration of a career in academia. Filling a sippy cup with water half way, I would ponder whether I might enjoy board work at the local hospital. Engaged in minutia around the house, I would recall with relief that even Nancy Pelosi spent time as a parent before joining congress! If Nancy stood in my shoes, then I could definitely stand in hers. And honestly I impressed myself by some new skills I picked up. I could find all the heads and flames in a pile of legos in record time. I would take the world by storm!
There was so much inside me that lay dormant in this toast-lego position. The hours were long and the pay was abysmal. But my clients were three bright and intriguing fellas who kept me on my toes. They also - remarkably - understood me better than anyone ever had. The team was demanding and unruly but I was never bored. Sometimes they were unreasonable. They even accused me of applying too much sauce to their pizza when it was only half a teaspoon! But, still…I felt loved. I knew this post could impact the world as much as a term in congress. That was no small matter and it was what was in front of me those years. So I tabled the enigma of my vocation to a future date and I figured I would get to it eventually. Congress could wait til these folks finished their toast.
But in the Spring of 2024 I found myself at a crossroads. Or should I say crosswalk? And I struck up a conversation with a particularly affable crossing guard while dropping off my youngest child at school. This guy was a thoughtful and congenial guide - well outside the painted lines. He suggested I apply to the Leadership Upper Valley program. It turns out that he, like Nancy, had served in government. He was a leader in the community and also a parent. Yes, there are a lot of us!
By September, I was sipping tea in a cozy room with my cohort. It was the first day of LUV and set the tone for a year of reflection, learning, and opening our minds about how we could best lead from our own lives. We enjoyed a rousing presentation on what the "Upper Valley" even means geographically. (It’s complicated!) Later, we considered deeper threads around what we think of when we consider the concept of home itself. Looking back, the seeds of this trail blazing enterprise called Love & Moxie were already present. They lay beneath the newly tilled soil of my processing and they needed adequate time to sprout. I was just beginning to soften into the fresh task of allowing myself space to discover fertile ground in my evolving life. Sipping tea is a beautiful way to honor such a task that requires simply being in it, moment to moment.
From September to June, we enjoyed numerous adventures and fresh exploration of the Upper Valley one day a month. We engaged in focused learning and processing of various topics ranging from education and food to government and walkable communities. Those days felt like being in grade school again or on a retreat program like I led at Georgetown through campus ministry. Each of us had our own busy lives and so much to attend to outside of this space together. But when we were there for a day of LUV, it felt to me like the world was on pause. In fact, the whole point was to be on pause. The idea was that leadership can only begin once we are willing to learn what we don’t already know. Staying curious and open hearted feeds the soil from which change can begin to take root.
I had always known I wanted to apply my passions and talents to a non toast making position. Between you and me, I figured it would be a non congress one too. I knew that I wanted to weave in my background in ethics and my commitment to exploring new views on human difference. I had always been drawn to health, wellbeing, and spirituality. Openness and sharing with my peers that year helped me acclimate to a beginner’s mind that did not need to draw conclusions quickly. More than any specific information or experience, the leadership program offered me a dedicated monthly reminder that there is always more to learn if we make time for it. We never know what we don’t know. And there is no one who is too busy or too important to learn anew or begin again.
True leadership is humble and curious. Leadership is actually not even about whether you are a member of congress or making toast. It is about the bravery and sincerity required to serve what and who we care about in whatever way we are suited. Life gives most of us the chance to gain external praise and to privately fill a sippy cup. (Usually this is not on the same day.) But who we are and where our valuable contributions lie, is not measured by either one of these. Indeed, even if our day-to-day lives don't feel extraordinary at all, we always enjoy opportunities to lead. It helps to trust ourselves and stay curious about how we might best serve with our lives and gifts. A flexible mindset can help. Sometimes we recognize that we are already on the path we need to walk, even if it looks different than we expected. Sun-lit hair blows softly in the wind while riding in a convertible. But it can also happen while you are filling a sippy cup by the kitchen window. Those details are not so important in the end.
By June of 2025, I felt wistful to say goodbye to my cohort and to our monthly adventures through the Upper Valley that felt like mini retreats from the world. But, underneath, I knew I was ready to implement what I had come to synthesize through the program. In a little side room past the gift shop at the Montshire Museum — far, far away from the bubble exhibit I had associated with this location over the years — I waved goodbye to my new friends and fellow leaders and set out on my own path.
Like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, I started the journey thinking I might need magical help to get where I wanted to go. But I learned that I already had everything I needed before I began. A journey of great purpose does not require a permit or earn value from any external source. In fact, the most profound journey any of us takes in this life is the one home to ourselves. It begins when we trust our own heart and brain to dictate the next right step. Day after day, with hope, courage, and the wisdom to pause, we can get wherever we need to go.