The Grit of Self-Acceptance

I didn't set out to work with veterans. Not at all. In fact, I pride myself on one of CTI's core principles: Don't coach the topic -- or the profession. Coach the whole person. But we attract what we vibe with, or something like that. So when the Jon Engfer, managing director of Every Third Saturday, a non-profit veterans group in Minneapolis, reached out to me to learn more about my services and ETS' needs, he noted something that made me smile.

"You have some grit to you," Engfer said, tilting his head to one side.

Indeed, I do. Though I am a petite woman of a certain age, I carry the courage born of having lived a life, a big life. I never feel small, because I carry the "grit" born of challenge, survival and ultimate triumph. I am a warrior. Not of the military sort -- though my martial arts practice of 24 years was the practice of an ancient Korean military hand and foot combat. But that isn't the reason. That's only an expression of my grit. When I am with warriors of any kind, I can see it and feel it. The world is full of them. Doctors, stay-at-home moms, people who carry countless invisible wounds that life has given them. Because I have these too, I assume everyone has wounds -- and the grit to overcome them.

So when I created and facilitated, "Self-Command: The Embodied Practice of Leadership" as part of the Warrior's Return Program, I felt right at home. Honored to hold a container for veterans' pain and the seeds of their healing. Because behind every warrior is deep pain. And when you take care of that pain with radical attention -- the foundation of self-care -- there lives the greatest potential for healing and transformation.

It takes one kind of courage to go into battle. It's another altogether to face the shadows that linger long after the direct battle is over. Self-awareness and ultimately self-acceptance is how we become leaders of our lives. And he or she who faces themselves is brave indeed.