Lessons Learned: Why I'm choosing to live a life of becoming vs be-ing
Essay by Whitney Boone
Photo by Linus Belanger for Unsplash
“The other side of the darkness I experienced in my early to mid-thirties revealed a new way of thinking about “be”ing. I learned that maybe I don’t need or even want to “be” anything at all.”
When I was young, like many small humans, I dreamt of who I would “be” when I grew up. As I saw it, there were two options. The first was to “be” a mommy. The second was to “be” the first female POTUS. I’m quite glad that only one of those has become part of my story. Those days were filled with all sorts of imaginative play. Much of which centered around what or who I wanted to “be” in that day’s creative story.
As I grew older, I transversed many narratives in my mind, imagining where I would “be” at points along the journey. But time and again, I’ve found myself living a different life from who that younger version of me thought I’d “be.”
This has sometimes caused me pain. I have been angry at times. I have also been joyful, surprised, awed, saddened, depressed, supported, lonely, frustrated, and ultimately I found I had to let go of who I envisioned I would “be.”
Oh, how the pain of that still feels tender at times.
When I was six years old, a friend in our conservative evangelical community told me how she prayed “the sinner's prayer.” When she reached the end of her story, she paused and asked me a question. In a cheerful, hopeful voice she asked if I too wanted to “be” a Christian? I said, “No.” It was immediate and definitive. She was dumbfounded and, looking back, I imagine slightly hurt. “But, don’t you want to “be” a Christian?” she asked. “No,” I said again. “I don’t want to “be” a Christian, I want to “be” a bird!”
I can confidently say I didn’t grow up to “be” a bird. But I still think about that moment from time to time. Life takes us on many different paths that we are unable to see when we’re wee birds, still in our parent’s nest, too little to get the bigger perspective.
And now, as a grown woman, I’m able to see more. And yet, despite my best-laid plans, I am not at all where I thought I’d “be.”
In 2009 my whole family gathered at my house for a Father’s Day cookout to celebrate the dads in our lives. Dad was telling stories, as usual, but there was something off. I took my sister aside in the kitchen to ask her if she noticed it too. She agreed he was acting a little weird, but we laughed it off as another quirky thing our dad did that honestly didn’t surprise us too much.
The next afternoon, my mom called. She was speaking as though we were some sort of secret agents in a movie. It was giving me “hostage answers the phone with the kidnapper right by their side” vibes.
Something was wrong, but she was not able to say it directly. I quickly realized that something was wrong with Dad and I needed to get over there fast.
When I got there, Mom said, “Dad says he needs to deposit a large check that his friend is keeping for him. Then he tried to leave barefooted, in his pajamas, and his friend didn’t know anything about a check.”
Mom was frightened. I was too. Something was not right. We took Dad to the hospital. The news wasn’t good. He was admitted to the ICU.
Dad’s prostate cancer had returned after more than a decade. This time a tumor in his skull was pressing on his brain that caused a bleed. That’s why he was delusional, hallucinating, and not acting like himself.
This all came at a complicated time. Not that there is ever a good time for something like this. But this was really not a good time. The nonprofit that our family ran was falling apart financially.
The day after my father went into the ICU, our CFO came for a visit. As we stood in the small family waiting room of the ICU, he got straight to the point. He said we didn’t have the cash-flow to make payroll on Friday. Then he asked me, “What are you going to do about it?”
“I’ll take care of it,” I said, not knowing how I would.
I was five years old when my Dad started a non-profit ministry that became an extension of our family growing up. It was in this community that I found what I was seeking in my faith; something I couldn’t articulate as a young kid who dreamed of becoming a bird. I found authentic relationships and people who came from different walks, to do life together.
My passion for people, recognition of the world's injustices and a deep love of service took roots in those early days. I worked as a Junior Counselor at the camp we created. I was mostly making peanut butter sandwiches for field trips and serving breakfast to kids as they got off the bus, but the experience changed my idea of who and what I wanted to “be.” I wanted to spend my life serving people; moreover, I saw myself becoming a part of the organization that sparked my passion for serving and fighting for our societies’ marginalized populations.
After college graduation, I went to work at the ministry. I began in communications and worked my way through most of the general and administrative departments: fund-raising, human resources, donation tracking – you name it, I did it.
Truly, I learned the value of a team with humility during those years; all pitching in and doing a little bit of everything when circumstances necessitated.
Our team grew and so did our ministry – the city program grew beyond our initial location to three camps: Denver, Kansas City and St. Louis. Dad and I traveled to each city together to start the programs, and train the staff. I hired 3 City Directors and led the program as the Executive Director. I was doing what I always wanted to do!
When it came time to start my own family, I stepped down as Executive Director to be my Dad’s Executive Assistant. We continued to travel together, raising funds for the organization. I was elected to a non-board member post on the Board of Directors and I was, I thought, training to take over the ministry when my Dad retired. In my mind, this was who I was going to “be.”
Then, Dad got sick again. And I made a promise to the CFO that would alter my life trajectory again.
Over the course of my years, I’ve been through unexpected joy and immense pain. The life I imagined for myself, where I would “be” at age 47, drastically changed 13 years ago.
One call made from the ICU waiting room, saved the ministry. But it was that same call that resulted in my sister, brother, husband, cousin and me all losing our jobs.
The city program, that was my heartbeat, was summarily cut. Two of the three ministry locations were closed and the people who were employees, and also our family, were jobless.
To use the word “job” to describe what I lost is not quite an adequate word. I lost a job, yes, but more importantly, I lost the dream of what my future would “be.” I lost my community and 16 months later I lost my dad to cancer.
Some pretty dark days followed! Anger, grief, depression and pain engulfed me for a time. I was lost in my loss. I didn’t know who I was anymore. I lost my “be.”
I have seen myself through many different lenses over the years. I have wanted to “be”: a bird, a mommy, the first female President of the United States, a teacher, a business woman, a minister, a ministry leader. All of these things that did or did not come to “be” have played a part in shaping who I am now. I can now see that there is light at the end of the darkness of disappointment and fear and loss.
The other side of the darkness I experienced in my early to mid-thirties revealed a new way of thinking about “be”ing. I learned that maybe I don’t need or even want to “be” anything at all.
In fact, I’ve started using the word “becoming” to describe how I view myself rather than thinking in terms of who or what I want to “be.”
Becoming is defined by Oxford as the process of coming to be something or of passing into a state. It is not about the end result, it is about the process. I love this definition because there is freedom, movement, change, discovery, adventure and experience in the process. What an expansive way to think about life and its possibilities!
Today, I more fully understand the word becoming. It’s accepting life for the journey that it is. Becoming is mindfully moving through decisions to take the path presented to me (through pursuit of a goal, or navigating what life throws my way). Becoming is accepting who I am right now, today. Becoming is recognizing that I have more ways in which to grow, embracing changes in who I am, how I operate and how I think. Becoming is knowing that there is always more to learn. Becoming is learning with humility. Becoming is behaving lovingly toward myself and giving myself grace to make mistakes.
Reframing my thoughts around this has been life-altering. I have found freedom in letting go of the firm grip I had on what I could, would or should “be.” Now I have more joy, more connection, and more flexibility than I was capable of in the past. It feels good to actively choose to live in this acceptance of myself.
I choose to continue becoming.
Whitney Boone is a former Executive Director who now helps leaders in fast-paced tech companies identify and create opportunities for their teams’ flourishing and growth. She lives in Colorado and shares matching tattoos with her oldest child because they both believe in leaving their mark on life.
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