I entered the summer with a commitment to savor. The pace of my days were such that something had to give. Not only was I using my time ineffectively, I was flat out social media crabby.

All of my activity began to feel like an obligation. It took a few lash-outs for me to really see that I wasn't enjoying what I was doing and I made it the fault of others <not a pretty side of me.>

Bottom line: I lost my spark.

So, short of shutting it all down with the press of a few strategically placed DELETE keys in a moment of regrettable reaction, I gave myself the permission give it up. I gave myself permission to step away from the blogs, let the cobwebs form on Tweetdeck, let that perfect speaking opportunity pass me by and permit Google+ to evolve without me.

Once I knew I could give it all up . . . I realized I didn't want to.

I was so stuck on the mechanics of what I was doing <insert pictures, post, edit, comment, retweet, approve group members, prepare proposals, arrange speakers, update friends, neglect blogroll, update profiles, encircle people> that I had lost the why of it all.

I am not completely selfless and without ego so I'd be lying if I said I don't like it when my posts are retweeted and my blog subscribers increase or I am asked to speak, sit on advisory boards, etc. or that I worried you would forget about me if I stepped away and technology would pass me by.

But that wasn't the source of the spark.

The one thing - through it all - that holds meaning for me is bringing out potential in others. The spark for me is providing something that enables others to be that much better or reach that much further. Now, throw in the chance to work shoulder to shoulder with smart women I respect and admire.

There, now the sparks really begin to fly. Here's to clarity and focus and a little less crabbiness all around.

Photo credit iStockphoto

What's the surest sign of an HR professional experiencing unnecessary anxiety? They make this stuff personal.

I've got this thing I do. It has nothing to do with clothing, food or body parts and everything to do with words.

I collect phrases.

If I hear a phrase that resonates with me - it may be an insight, a perspective, or a snappy little comeback- I enclose it in a grade-school-like cloud in the upper right hand corner on the first page of my notes. Phrases that have made their way into my vocabulary are "dirty stinkin' liar," "manage the smiley faces" and "karma is a b**ch."

My new phrase, thanks to a colleague in Florida during a recent discourse of our HR lives is "hell bent for leather." Now, let me add a few words to get right to the heart of the matter for me.

Hell bent for leather . . . and under scrutiny.

As an HR professional, leader, supervisor, manager, former Army officer, I am no stranger to questions, challenges, or disagreements but lately, I've felt that the spotlight <or is it mirror> has been on me, my decisions, my priorities, my leadership and "Frankly, Scarlet, I <do> give a damn."

Bottom line: I don't like it.

This latest round started with an HR Oversight and Effectiveness Survey. This was our first ever and I welcomed the team with open arms, fully aware they would have findings. But did they have to find so much the first morning of the first day of a 3 day visit?!

I am sure Doctor Daniel Crosby, has some valuable insight into the "psychology of an audit" but you have to know that I wasn't seeing much beyond loser by the end of the first day. Throw in employee relations, labor relations, dips in customer service delivery, staff performance and my own performance as a supervisor and, well, anxiety was alive and well.

Today, it is different. Not all the HR problems of the world are solved, they never will be, but the anxiety level has dropped dramatically for this one HR professional.

How?

I stopped making this personal.

The spotlight, the questions, the scrutiny from self and others - it's going to happen. It's unavoidable. Just when you think all is lost and you think about turning in your keys and parking pass, stop and take a look around.

Notice that your hands are gripping the reins. They are clenched, sunburned and achy. Notice that your legs are cramped and your spurs are dull.

Now, notice this. You are still on the horse.

Photo creditiStockphoto

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Hell Bent for Leather: Relieving HR Anxiety

Lisa Rosendahl