Mandolen Mull, Ph.D. on LinkedIn: #bereavedmothersday | 49 comments (2024)

The HighWomen were singing about a Crowded Table from somewhere in the house as I tried to amp myself up by muttering, “I have a Ph.D. I’ve overcome so many challenges. I can do this.”My father’s voice inserted itself with, ‘Why do you always make it harder than it has to be?!’ as I more confidently said aloud, “Righty tighty, lefty loosey.”I can’t tell you why it had to be last night.I had about a dozen other things I needed to get done.And there was no burning platform for me to do it.But, regardless, I started moving Harbour’s things out of my bedroom and into her own. With about five rooms in various stages of disarray across the Haven, I found myself disassembling the crib halfway from its original spot to its new destination.I had thought I could move it all myself, and while it passed through one door without issue, it had to be dismantled to fit through my dressing room. So, I set to work.And, you know, eventually, I got it pulled apart, moved to the nursery, and was reassembling it after having realised that an Allen wrench has two ends to use- one of which is incredibly helpful when you’ve scraped up your knuckles for the past hour. Then it came.A flash of a baseball rug.And I crumpled to the floor, letting out a torrent of grief.The Bestie found me that way, and, in between guttural sobs I said “I just need a minute” while she played with the baby.The baby.I don’t know if it was because of the post I made yesterday, or the fact that his 15th birthday is near, but all of the sudden memories I had forgotten shuttered by like an old flip book.His nursery.Overlaying Harbour’s nursery.Reds and blues- Rangers colours. I hadn’t even realised the similarities until that moment.May has historically been an emotional month for me. This week will be two years since my father passed.Later this month, Catcher’s birthday he didn’t get to have.The three year milestone of a traumatic car wreck.Mother’s Day.But you know, the thing I’m learning about grief and growth is that they don’t come directly at you.They are sniper attacks, walloping you when you least expect them.And while I grieved yesterday, viscerally and so deeply, I do not think that was what was occurring overall.I think I was experiencing growth.Growth in its primal form.There was no reason for me to have attempted to set up the nursery by myself last night.No reason for me to have cried like I did, as I’ve shed many tears over the years.No reason for me to so vividly remember that darn baseball rug, or it’s hard texture underneath my toes where the laces were painted on.And yet…And yet I think all of the things May represents to me combined to remind me of the growth I’m achieving.To remind me, as my Daddy would say, “To not make it harder than it has to be”.To remind me that who I was, who I am, and who I am becoming, are all entirely different. To remind me, that right here and right this very minute, I am blooming.Happy Growing,-M.

7

4 Comments

The dogs would run and hide if the phone rang before 7am in my childhood home. If it rang after 9pm? We’d gather round to ask how we could help. Morning calls meant “the brown bottle flu” had a hold of one of my Daddy’s employees and he was about to let loose a string of colourful- and loud- language. The evening calls meant one of those men had found themselves in trouble, either at the hospital or local jail, and Daddy was their call.Owning a masonry company in Texas meant my father didn’t exactly have a lot of folks lining up to lift heavy stone in triple digit temps. But that wasn’t why my Daddy was so forgiving multiple times over- it was because he was a messy person, too. A few times those night calls were us girls getting him out of jail. So I was raised with an abundance of Grace and a capacity for creating #GraceSpace for others. The only thing my Daddy couldn’t abide- besides folks who painted brick (YA’LL! 😳)- were liars and thieves. He figured that if someone would lie to you, they’d steal from you as well, and people who take from those who’ve worked hard to earn, or been loved enough to have been gifted…well, he thought that was irredeemable. That was his line in the sand. Now, my Momma? Oh ya’ll, she once held a 3-week grudge against me for a dream she had! I. Kid. You. Not! I think sometimes we condemn people for minor things. There are a lot of Stoic quotes about this like, “Any person capable of angering you becomes your master” (Epictetus). And the reality is that some hills truly aren’t worthy of a battle. Many of my father’s employees worked for him for decades, despite their absences and mistakes. He taught me, “Every time you cut someone loose, you’re repossessing their car, turning off their electricity, and taking food off their plate. Be absolutely sure you did everything you could before it gets to that.” If they showed up the next day, they still had a job. If they tried, Daddy met them. A setback wasn’t permanent once Grace got involved. I’d like to see a lot more of that in the world. Happy Growing!-M. #MullMentum#NarrativeLeadership#GenerationalMentorship

182

50 Comments

Put your ass where your heart wants to be. I’m quoting the title of Stephen Pressfield’s book with that statement, but I send my contrite apologies for the language to my mother, nonetheless.Although, an important point should be made here: Far too many people are focused on finite and short-term returns and completely ignoring the impact that has on the #InfiniteGams of their lives.Maybe where you are at right now is not your forever job.Maybe it’s time to reassess and pivot to align you with the career you want for yourself. Or maybe this is just the next step along your path and so you should take the time to enjoy it while you are here. After all, so many times we rush from Point A to Point B and never really stop to appreciate the wonder that is progress and growth. What a shame it is to keep missing the chance to give yourself some credit for having courage, taking risks, and trusting your dedication and resiliency as you strive for a new milestone. If your ass isn’t where your heart wants to be, remember what I’ve told you about that incredibly powerful small word: Yet. Harness your Yet.Appreciate your Yet.And when you reach where your heart wants to be, don’t forget to stop and commend the younger version of yourself that endured and committed to help you achieve your Yet. Your today doesn’t have to be your forever, and your forever doesn’t have to be today. Happy Growing!-M. #MullMentum#NarrativeLeadership#GenerationalMentorship

72

23 Comments

The day I found out I was short was a rough one. You see, I had played basketball most of my life and was just taking a beating in every game and practice. So, one day- THAT day- Coach called me in to her office after a practice where I’d spent far more time on the wood than on my feet.“You’re not a basketball player.”‘…What do you mean? I’ve always played basketball. All my friends play basketball. I have a jersey.’And then Coach gave me a very important gift that my teenage self did not recognise for years to come: “You have many talents, M. But playing basketball isn’t one of them. Your effort is incredible. Your resiliency is absolutely admirable. But no matter how hard you try, the sport doesn’t fit you. And I know you- you’ll keep trying and trying, putting everything you’ve got into this game and think that if you just try hard enough you’ll succeed. But you’re 4’11, and the other girls are not only much taller than you- they are still growing. Put your efforts somewhere else. This will only frustrate, and, eventually, defeat you.”Now that was a risky conversation Coach leaned into, right? I mean, my parents, dealing with a despondent teenager, could have very well called her up and raised Cane about how I had every right to keep playing.And I did, you know. I had that right. But it wasn’t right for me. There was courage and kindness in what Coach did that day.Some days I wonder if I’d be who I am now if not for that conversation.Would I have continued to try really hard to put the proverbial square peg in a round hole, demoralising and demotivating myself in the process?Would it have taken a toll on my resiliency and self-esteem?Probably.Years later, while overseeing operations at a distribution center, I had an employee who was determined to load our trailers. His work ethic was amazing. His positive outlook, a delight for all of us who worked with him. But he was even shorter than me and couldn’t reach to load the top of the trailers.So, I got him a ladder.I wanted to prove he could hoist up and pack in boxes to the top where every inch was valuable real estate and sloppy work could harm someone offloading the goods.But no matter how hard he worked, or what additional tools I gave him, it didn’t fit. I hadn’t calculated the lag time incurred has he climbed up and down the ladder and the ways that that would slow down production in an environment where minutes were currency. And this is a lesson I’ve learned over and over again.The Grind Mentality invites our sheer doggedness to obscure and ignore sense. Coach taught me that lesson many years ago. I taught it to my employee. It’s one I keep learning. Happy Growing!-M. #MullMentum#NarrativeLeadership#GenerationalMentorship

114

52 Comments

There’s a squirrel roaming my woods that has half a tail. I’ve thought about the reasons for this more than I should, ya’ll. And I am reminded of a call I had years ago with my dear friend Robin. “Hun, what’s wrong?”‘Well, it’s just that the two turkeys that walk the yard every morning? There’s only one today…’“M, we’ve talked about this. What did I tell you?”‘Don’t get attached to the wildlife at the Haven.’“Don’t get attached to the wildlife at the Haven!” Robin repeated for good measure.But of course I do.And this particular squirrel…what exactly IS his story?Was he born that way?Was there some death-defying predator encounter?Was there a hilarious yet painful snag?Does he have some kind of health problem and should I try to capture him and take him to an animal rescue? (I’m not going to do this, ya’ll, but it has absolutely crossed my mind.)I don’t know. And I think about this silly squirrel and how he’s teaching me things I don’t know about the folks I encounter.Were they born that way?Are they victors of some trauma?Have they developed through adversity?Do they have some exigent need to be addressed and yours truly should swoop in and save them? (I’m not going to do this, ya’ll, but it has absolutely crossed my mind.) Each morning I watch him and he seems happy, if not a little addle-minded in his foraging for food…although, I cannot entirely say all squirrels don’t appear that way. He doesn’t seem aware that half his tail isn’t there.It doesn’t seem to inhibit him or slow him down.And so, while it doesn’t affect him- it does affect me.But then that has me wondering how often we are affected by things that happen to others, yet they themselves are unaffected by. Much like my considerations of trying to insert myself into situations where my gifts are not required.Those considerations, which actually are quite inconsiderate.Early in my Crohn’s and Dystonia diagnoses I had well-meaning loved ones tell me not to speak about my illnesses.“People will think less of you. They’ll think you can’t be productive or dependable. They’ll think you’re a liability.”These folks meant well.And, so, I learned to respond, ‘Trust me enough to tell you when I’m in over my skis. Believe in me enough that I can do anything I say I can do. Support me enough that others trust and believe in me because you do.’Being curious about this squirrel’s missing tail is fine.Trying to save him, when he hasn’t asked me to and seems entirely uninterested in me doing so, isn’t.Everyone deserves to be supported…but not everyone wants to be.And that’s probably one of the hardest lessons I’ve ever learned.Happy Growing!-M.#MullMentum#NarrativeLeadership#GenerationalMentorship

103

42 Comments

“The baffled king composing Hallelujah.” Leonard Cohen sang as the muddy river, having breached its banks, peeked out at me through rapidly growing greenery.I, too, was baffled.People lately have been complimenting my writing and- I honestly feel like a heel here ya’ll- but it surprises me as well!I didn’t set out to write.And some think I overshare.Some think I fly too close to the sun.And I’m sure there’s a line of my old primary teachers waiting to unfurl their scrolls, red pens poised, with all the ways in which my prose violates proper sentence structures and storytelling.But, you know, I also didn’t set out to be a storyteller.There’s this other line by Leonard, one from a poem, that has lived rent-free inside my spirit ever since I came across it: “If you don’t become the ocean, you’ll be seasick everyday.”I had spent a lifetime seasick, ya’ll.Trying to shove my energies into too many currents.Trying to control waves that kept trying to topple me.So that’s why I write.And when I write, the story reveals itself.And somehow- blessedly and bafflingly- it resonates with folks.And then it’s not only me that isn’t seasick, but my friends here as well.Some of those friends call my writings a lighthouse.Maybe one day I’ll accept that honouring, humbling, symbolism…But you know, I think it’s an amalgamation of several things.My avid love of reading varied genres.The lessons of, and loyalties to, my mentors.Long drives and time to reflect.And years of proverbially screaming into what seemed like an abyss of disinterest and devaluation.There were so many I wanted to help, so many to advocate for, so many to champion and cheer along.But I felt confined.Stuck in the currents of others’ expectations and arbitrary, meaningless, measures of “success”.Seasick.Another song, this one featured in Hamilton, cries, “And when my prayers to God were met with indifference, I picked up a pen, I wrote my own deliverance.”I think maybe, without ever setting out to do it, that is what I’ve done.At the risk of parroting Ted Lasso’s Danny, I think leadership is life. And so many lessons, observations, and experiences I’ve had just always somehow tie right back to leadership. To life.The inspiration for these Mullings crop up unexpected and uninvited.A random memory, a song lyric, a frustrating observation. They become mind anchors that hook, and then I sit down with my cuppa and I learn the story alongside ya’ll.But sometimes- like the one I had while sweeping the garage the other day- float past and, ephemerally, I cannot catch it again.That was, of course, probably my best one.The elusive whale.But if ever it feels like “fishing”, like effort, I’ll quit writing.For now?Because of this community?I’m no longer screaming into an abyss.And I am no longer seasick.“You see I used to live alone before I knew ya…”Thank you for finding value in my Mullings.Thank you for finding it in me.Happy Growing!-M.#MullMentum

131

60 Comments

Storms have rolled through my Haven in the Woods over the weekend, and, because I live in a veritable glass house, I am prone to opening all the windows and inviting nature inside. Only, my little rescue morkie, Griffin, is afraid of thunder. So, armed with lavender cookies, a comfort shirt, and an internal magnet that apparently glues him to my feet, we weather on.It all comes down to safety, right?I don’t think we often articulate it in such a way “I feel unsafe” but I think our behaviour- and more importantly, our bodies- indicate as such. Griffin doesn’t tell me he feels unsafe, but his trembling, lowered tail feathers, and scuttering around this rambling farmhouse conveys as such.Or what about colleagues lashing out when new change comes?Seeming to overreact.Seeming to be a giant pain in our backside.They are essentially saying “I don’t feel safe. You haven’t assured me how this doesn’t harm me. Help me understand so I’m not scared and can buy in.”Gosh, ya’ll, wouldn’t it be nice if folks articulated it in such a prescriptive way?Only folks don’t.Because they, themselves, usually aren’t even aware that this is the primal agent causing them to be reactive.Grif also doesn’t tell me when he feels safe with me. But him happily running from room to room with his octopus- which, by the way, is twice his size but he hasn’t apparently noticed that- and his propensity to stop his play to give me a single lick on my foot, seems to articulate his feelings. This little dog that was found in a horrible hoarding situation. Who was believed to be feral and never have been outside (the first time he saw a leaf, he cowered and hid under a car).Who now bounds out the door with the confidence of a much bigger beast, and who always gets the zoomies in a patch of leaves. I named my daughter Harbour to remind me of my responsibility as her mother- to keep her safe. I also hope that one day she grows into the kind of person that represents safety for others in this world.I think we need a lot more of that.It’s also why I chose “Harbour” as my word of the year- my continued mission to seek and create safety. Safety isn’t just OSHA or various legal compliance.It’s about seeing the unspoken ways in which people communicate their most vital need.Seeing that, and meeting that.The more I understand about behaviour, the more I understand about biology.The more I understand about biology, the more I understand about psychology. The more I understand about psychology, the more I understand about sociology and anthropology.And the more I understand about people and their actions and interactions, the more I understand about philosophy and faith.The more I understand about how to help.And, I think it all begins with safety.With Harbours.Happy Growing!-M. #MullMentum#NarrativeLeadership#GenerationalMentorship

108

58 Comments

I suppose in comparison, it actually isn’t a poor way of coping with things. I thought about that as Gregg Allman sang about soulshine being better than moonshine as I drove alongside the flooded river. New life springing out all around me, so verdant it almost hurts the eyes.I was recently told that, in light of my current circ*mstances, “all of (my) traditional coping skills aren’t options”.Restriction. Retreat.As an unexpected overnight foster mother, I live in uncertainty of if the only daughter I’ve ever had- will ever have- will always be mine.As an entrepreneur I live with the uncertainty of if another client will come along, or one no longer remain.As Mayo continues the 2-3 month genomic sequencing on my DNA, I live with the uncertainty that at any moment a call or MyChart message may come and disrupt my life.In prior experiences of such impactful uncertainty I could retreat into my work.I could restrict access to those in my life. I could, I suppose, find control when the uncontrollable emerged.As a child, I never knew when my Daddy- and later my sister, who inherited his temper- would go off.Or when my mother would close up.So my books and my study were my escape. When I miscarried and my husband left, I retreated to my work.When I could no longer digest solid foods, I restricted what I ate.When my Daddy’s cancer returned, I drove up to a secluded lake-front cabin and spent two weeks alone without wifi…as soon as I drove away and my cell connected, I learned the world was shutting down due to Covid.And, last October when I felt restless in regards to my purpose in life, I set off on a 7-state #WanderingRoadTrip.When I returned, I became a mother.My sanctuary, my Haven in the Woods, brings its own uncertainty. Mischievous doggos who answer to no one.A rapidly growing bebe who keeps me on my toes as I keep trying to anticipate and predict her future needs (I asked my mother how she knew to lower our crib “Whenever you stood up”, she replied. I informed her that seemed a terribly reactive indicator for safety!).Old trees that uproot and block the drive.And I cannot restrict or retreat.But, you know, I do think Gregg was on to something:“Life can take the strongest manMake him feel so all aloneNow sometimes I feel a cold windBlowin' through my achin' bonesI think back to what my daddy used to sayHe said, "Boy, in this darkness before the dawnLet your soul shineIt's better than sunshineIt's better than moonshineDamn sure better than rainYeah, now people don't mindWe all feel this way sometimesYou gotta let your soul shineShine till the break of day"Most folks don’t know what their coping skills are- let alone know how to tap into healthy ones. But I think the most important thing to know is, sometimes there’s nothing to “fix” or alleviate.Sometimes we just gotta sit with it.And let our soul shine. Happy Growing,-M.#MullMentum#NarrativeLeadership#GenerationalMentorship

121

35 Comments

Every day I drive along a meandering, hilly, backroad squinched between farms and piney woods and come to a yield sign.It looks new. It is on the northbound side, with no partner to the south.And I have no idea why it’s there.Just feet from the sign are ghost tracks. Old, rusted, train tracks of which various vegetation sprouts out and around. Overgrown and overhanging trees create a canopy that keep me from seeing anything down the line.Regardless, I always stop.I love trains.Growing up my father could tell you how late my light was on while I stayed up finishing a book, or how far my sister missed curfew, by the routine of the trains that passed by our house.It was his own metric of time.When I went away to college, people complained about the trains outside our dorms. Trains that, a century before had dropped off the women whose footsteps we traced. Those trains then headed up north to drop off the men at that “other” school in Waco.But you know I found the trains comforting, similar to the sounds of grandfather clock chimes at my grandparents, or the bells at our campus chapel.Trains have taken folks to freedom.To death.Tubman had her own version.Hitler did as well.Johnny Cash.Cat Stevens.Soul Asylum.Gladys Knight. Amos Lee.Varied genres, generations, singing songs about trains. Trains have taken folks to new lives and adventures.They’ve built cities and networks.They’ve connected towns, states, countries, and people. Today freight trains account for around 15% of goods transported in the US. And passenger trains are most used for quick travel in big cities. But we’re seeing an increase of train travel with 78% of Americans asking for more investment in passenger rail. While a dip occurred after the pandemic, we seem to be headed back to the dining cars.In 2028, the US will have its first high-speed rail, carrying folks from Vegas to SoCal.More will follow.Read any article on passenger rail in the US and you’ll find the outlook is promising for the industry.My mother, who lived a life travelling the globe while growing up in the Air Force, has rarely travelled outside of Texas these past several decades. However, last fall she came to visit. Her method?A train that took her from central Texas to the Grand Canyon, on to Chicago, then back.It was easy.It was relaxing.It was cost efficient.And all of that is cool to me.But you know what I like the most?I like thinking of my mother seeing various parts of the country pass by outside her window.I like thinking how she made friends with strangers as the train’s lull calmed years of an overworked nervous system.I like thinking of how exciting it was for her.I don’t know why there is a lone yield sign on the ghostly tracks of a backroad.But I’d like to think that maybe, just maybe, it’s a reminder to slow down.To look out at the world around me.To wonder.To wander.Happy Growing!-M.#MullMentum#NarrativeLeadership#GenerationalMentorship

198

104 Comments