Guest Blog Post: Lauren Fritsch
Softness. Tenderness. Gentleness. These are not often words we associate with the workplace, business, or success.
After nearly 20 years running my own business as a consultant and coach for CEOs, billionaires, politicians, Olympians, and moms running part-time side hustles, I can confidently say that the generally accepted path to achievement is more, harder and faster.
The Covid years, though, have placed a magnifying glass on the structures and customs we assumed were mandatory only to reveal the flaws, dissatisfaction, and fault lines.
We have watched as work moved online, people of all ages experienced the delight of more time at home, and we witnessed new waves of workplace behavior: the Great Resignation and “quiet quitting”- both searing indictments of workplace cultures and expectations.
But somehow, during Covid, people were working more hours than before and having a more challenging time setting boundaries between work and home life.
Small business owners have long fought a battle with 24-7 accessibility, but suddenly it became a reality for tens of millions.
So where does that leave our more complex, faster culture as many are dropping out or saying, “No, thank you?”
I think it’s time to reevaluate our approach to and pursuit of success through the lens of softness, tenderness, and gentleness.
Collectively, we humans have endured several traumas over the past three years: Covid of course, and all that came with it; the Black Lives Matter movement and the reasons for its genesis; the destabilization of American democracy and various pieces of legislation that make life harder for women especially.
Yet we are conditioned to keep going, put on brave faces, and try harder- though I’m not convinced that approach helps us. On the contrary, I’m pretty sure that it is actively hurting us.
The work harder maxim can be a trauma response, and the “flight” activation of the sympathetic nervous system often looks like being a workaholic or perpetually busy.
Unfortunately, the flight coping mechanism is a socially acceptable and culturally rewarded approach to managing stress.
Last summer, one of my clients shared that in addition to her caretaking responsibilities for kids (including a high-needs child), running her business, and tending to her mental health, she was going to begin an exercise and lifestyle habit program called 75 Hard. I looked it up and was interested- I discovered that many people had changed their lives with the structure that includes a mandatory adherence to strict rules. The rule that stood out for me was that participants must complete two 45-minute workouts daily, one of which has to be outside. And if you don’t hit all the rules every day? You start your count over at day one.
I was surprised that a woman with so much already on her plate would want to take on a project as comprehensive as that to improve her life- but of course, she did! We (especially women) are conditioned to work harder and add more to our plates, especially when faced with stressful situations.
She, admirably, wanted to take better care of herself, accomplish more with her days, and improve her energy. I began to ask myself, might there be a different way to achieve what we desire: healthy and strong bodies, resilient minds, fully faceted selves- but without the punishing rules and strictures that pile on ever more?
What if we could meet ourselves with softness instead of going hard?
Many of us wouldn’t know where to start. I know I didn’t. Twenty years ago, I was a Division I endurance athlete with a raging eating disorder. I had completed two-a-day workouts (sometimes three) since I was 14 years old. But when I started my recovery process, my therapist encouraged me to walk instead of run and to do gentle yoga instead of lifting weights. Of course, I scoffed at the idea. Workouts should make you sweat and be intensely sore in the aftermath. So whenever I saw people walking for exercise, I thought, what a waste of time since they weren’t running.
The eating disorder and exercise addiction had twisted my perspective. Still, even then, I was echoing the “work hard, pain is good” ethos of my coaches and society in general.
But my body wouldn’t let me run anymore- I had abused it for too long. So I began to walk. Begrudgingly. At first, my steps were hard and quick, determined huge strides. And I’d walk for miles. It took me years to realize that walking as if I’m in a race charges up my sympathetic nervous system like any other more obvious trigger. Finally, I began to place my feet less violently. I stopped listening to fast-paced music and instead took in the sounds around me.
I recovered from the eating disorder within six months. But it took me a decade to learn to walk more softly.
We have precious few examples of living gently in our world, so it’s no wonder that it took me years to modify my approach to my own movement.
My long-time friend and mentor, Austin-based Vanessa Scotto, beautifully models softness with her words, tone, and actions. She has a gift for meeting clients with trauma-informed care and has offered me a new template for self-talk and relationship. Hands over heart, with soft eyes and a low tone, she greets the self with words like, “Hello, beloved.”
At first, it sounded corny to me, and the phrase of endearment stood in stark contrast to the familiar inner monologue of “get your shit together” and “what is wrong with you?”
I soon realized that my go-to harshness- developed during my early years of over-achievement- wasn’t serving me. It didn’t make me check my bank balances more, squeeze in the neglected workout or finally get around to writing that essay. If anything, the get-it-together approach was backfiring for me.
But as I adopted her lingo and her approach in my journaling and self-talk, I found that meeting myself with softness opened up a new desire to take care of myself that wasn’t fueled by schedules or rules- it was fueled by gentle self-love. And that process is healing.
As I’m working with clients in the post-Covid landscape, I do much more to let them off the hook than hold them accountable. As a result, I meet their overwhelm and exhaustion with tenderness instead of tough love.
To that end, I created an approach to practice this sacred self-care called Gentle 30.
Gentle 30 is simple: 10 minutes a day of movement, meditation, and creative play every day (ish) for 30 days. It’s an antidote to the more complicated, faster, more culture and offers women a way to create gentle daily rhythms that support their well-being.
I’ve found that it’s not about whether the participants get to their 3×10 every day; the impact comes from how they think about their 3×10.
I invite them to consider these actions as invitations to nourish the self to complete some generative activities instead of depleting them. For example, what’s the point of a workout if you’re more tired after? Or if one hour of meditation means you can’t spend some precious time reading?
Finding the easiest, most attractive way into new routines is the way forward without guilt-inducing rules, punishing routines, or piling on evermore.
Frankly, we’ve all had enough of the hard way- and it’s time to meet ourselves with softness because that changes everything.
About Lauren Fritsch:
Lauren Fritsch is a speaker, entrepreneur, artist, and mom. After nearly two decades running her boutique management consulting firm, Lauren created and now licenses her models, the Joy|Money Matrix and Magnetic Customer Experience. She believes that we are all more than enough in the power of people to change and that art and yoga together could achieve world peace. You can find her at JoyMoneyMatrix.com, LaurenFritsch.com, and MagnetismFactor.com
Lauren lives in Buenos Aires, Argentina, with her husband, daughter, and dog called Mama.
