We caught up with the brilliant and insightful Meg Stafford a few weeks ago and have shared our conversation below.
Meg, appreciate you joining us today. One of our favorite things to hear about is stories around the nicest thing someone has done for someone else – what’s the nicest thing someone has ever done for you?
We had gone to family camp through the Appalachian Mountain Club for many years the same week each summer, so we saw many of the same people year after year. Meals are served family style at tables for 8 or 9. It was after lunch one day, and a few of us were catching up before the staff shooed us out to go swim, nap, or otherwise clear their dining room. We realized that in all those years, we had never asked each other how old we were. When it came to be my turn, I stated that I was fifty, and the person next to me gasped, look confused and exclaimed, “You don’t act like it!” I burst out laughing because I had not anticipated that kind of response. It was clearly very genuine, and he really had no idea how meaningful his comment was. I was just past the triathlon of treatment for breast cancer, and then had broken my hand falling off my bicycle, and it had been a difficult year in many ways, so I was not feeling my very best. That said, I was thrilled to be at camp, and relaxing with my family, and perhaps I was particularly enthused to be there that year. It was a wonderful reminder that the way I am feeling can in some ways project directly to the outside (I do feel like a kid when I’m at camp), and that my challenges of the year really were not so evident in that moment. I didn’t even know exactly what he meant (because what does a 50 year old act like anyway?!) but I appreciated his letting me know that he senses a youthful spirit in me.
Meg, before we move on to more of these sorts of questions, can you take some time to bring our readers up to speed on you and what you do?
Some people may be born with a silver spoon. I was born with a pen and pad of paper. My passion to communicate and explore is limitless and enduring. I wrote and taped books together starting when I was 3, and my mother was proud that she didn’t tell me how to spell things; she just let me write it the way it sounded to me. At 4, when I learned that a new friend lived on the other side of a development of homes, I struck out on my own across other people’s yards in order to visit. My love of people turned me toward social work, and I have been in private practice as a psychotherapist for over 30 years.
I started writing a column for a variety of local papers, and found that I looked forward to my opportunity to write about what I observed about our animals, our children, my own charming feet, relationships between others, small moments in time that reveal who we are, or what we are learning. When I was diagnosed with breast cancer, I was happy to share what my decisions were, the treatment options, my thoughts and feelings, but what I couldn’t bear was to repeat it over and over. It was a natural extension to write about that in email form so I could reach everyone at once. This became a cord of connection, back and forth, and a way for me to challenge myself to be honest, gathering the courage to hit SEND each time I wrote. I had to overcome my fear that it was too much, or too intimate or too zany or too irreverent! People started telling me that they understood what their mother/sister/cousin had been through but didn’t talk about, and that I should get my emails into book form. This became my first award winning book: Topic of Cancer: Riding the Waves of the Big C. I’m thrilled that it continues to be helpful to people as they navigate the sometimes scary world of cancer treatment, or help someone else through the trials of treatment.
I continued to write my columns and pursue my love of travel. When my younger daughter, at 17, and I traveled to Nepal so she could study meditation and Buddhism for her project on the question What Is Happiness?, I realized that it might be interesting for people to see what it was like for us to be so far away, and navigating the terrain of parenting young adults. My perspective from trekking the Annapurna circuit while Kate was studying at the monastery in Kathmandu, alongside her thoughts about being in Nepal comprise the first part of my second award winning book: Who Will Accompany You? My Mother-Daughter Journeys Far From Home and Close to the Heart. The second part of the book takes place in Colombia where our older daughter was working as an observer/witness in an intentionally peaceful community in the remote countryside. My week visiting her proved to be important for us as mother/daughter, and so informative about the community, meeting the people there who are living what they believe, and willing to put their lives on the line for it.
Writing fires me up, offers me opportunities to really understand where I am, who I’m with, and what the impact is on me. I want to convey to people what it’s like to hear a band that makes you want to leap out of your seat and applaud, or attend an exhibit that ignites a desire to learn more about who the artist is, and what sparks their creative thought. Most of all, I am deeply moved to connect with others, remind people that we all have choices about who we are, and what is most important to us. We can all listen to ourselves to make decisions that are respectful, life giving, and move us forward (or catapult us!).
In my work as a therapist, as well as in my books, I see my special sauce as my love of juxtaposing humor alongside my deepest thoughts, or that of others. A spoon full of humor helps the very tough things go down, in the most delightful way! It helps squeeze out fear, and allow in the best parts of ourselves, the most open and creative, the places where we can mine the joy.
What do you think is the goal or mission that drives your creative journey?
My drive and mission goes in two directions. On the inside, I am determined to be true to myself. This sounds simple, and is simple in concept, but practically speaking, it means I sometimes have to think twice when making important decisions. For my first book, I had a lot of advice to write it as a self help book, with “Try these 5 tips” kind of focus. These books are important, but I was convinced that the most compelling important part of my writing is my voice, my story, and that people could connect best with me and my story that way. I want people to laugh, to see themselves, and to know that they can trust their own point of view, or learn how to trust it. We are all the best experts on ourselves, and it is sometimes a balance between listening to the experts in the field (whether it’s healthcare, education, publishing, or relationships) and listening to ourselves. Both are key, and it takes practice to know which way to go sometimes. And knowing how to turn up the volume on our own voices and values so that we can hear them, and learn how to make decisions.
We all benefit from speaking our truths in as respectful and kind a way that we can. It can be scary/daunting/overwhelming at times, but it is worth pushing through to maintain our integrity and respect that of others. We all win, even when the truth we speak can be difficult to hear. We honor ourselves and the other when we have the confidence and faith in the relationship to say what is important. It moves the relationship forward, and proves that it is in the discussion of difficult things that we become closer to each other, and more at ease with ourselves.
Can you tell us about a time you’ve had to pivot?
I have loved my career as a social worker and psychotherapist. I learn every day I’m at work, and so very much appreciate that people are willing to trust me to share parts of themselves that they may not be comfortable sharing with others. I am continually blown away by people’s ability to be resilient, creative, and persistent in moving towards health and greater connection. It truly is an honor to be part of that journey. Of course, there are also days when I wonder if I’m up to the task, when I think that they should consult with someone who REALLY knows what they’re doing, when my doubts creep in about how helpful I’m being. Sometimes I really do believe that a client needs an expert in a particular field, and I refer them out. Other times it means learning some new things myself, or being willing to sit with uncomfortable information, or areas that are less familiar.
After more than than 20 years as a therapist, I had trained for two more years to become an Executive Coach and Organizational Consultant, earning my certificates in December 2006. I loved being able to use my training as a therapist alongside my new skills learning about business, entrepreneurship, and coaching, and I was excited to start transferring some of my business in that direction. In June 2007 I was diagnosed with breast cancer. I continued to work as a therapist, but could not also pursue coaching along with chemotherapy, surgeries and radiation. I realized after a year and half of treatment, that my writing was essential, and that in fact it was vital for me to pursue publishing my book, so I reluctantly had to halt my pursuit of Executive Coaching, and devote some of my time to getting my book out to the world. I’m fortunate to have such strong interests in different areas, but it really did mean a reckoning about my priorities. I had to take the time to sit with it all, and I concluded that as much as I love Executive Coaching and believe in it, there are other people who are great at it, but only I can tell my particular story, and bring that to the world.
Even all these years later, I still love to hear about workplace issues, and sometimes use some of the assessments that I learned during my training for Executive Coaching, but I am clear that I need to keep writing, telling stories, and bringing the joy of connection to the world.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.MegStafford.com
- Instagram: @megstafford2183
- Facebook: Facebook/MegStafford(MegSperber)
- Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/meg-stafford-5568b714
Image Credits
The headshots were taken by Lou Genovese of One27 Photography.