(This article was originally posted on The Voice Nook on Substack.)

In May 2022, I joined my partner on a trip to Turkey. His mother had unfortunately passed some time before, and there were family and estate matters that needed tending.

On one particular day, it was decided that we would meet his aunt for lunch. His aunt is an artist – a painter. That day, she happened to be on campus at a local high school, at the invitation of her friend – the principal – to participate in what was loosely explained to me as some sort of “arts day”. The kids didn’t have regular classes but were instead provided workshops, talks, and other experiences.

After some time waiting (in Turkey, there is always much waiting), while drinking tea (there is also always much tea), we met up with his aunt and the principal of the school. The four of us walked two blocks to a restaurant and sat down for lunch.

I know a little bit of Turkish, but not enough to carry a conversation. So when lengthy conversations are taking place, I do my best to listen politely, observe the people and the surroundings, and try to learn whatever I can about the language, the place, or the moment through sheer will and curiosity – along with the occasional translation from my partner… and Google Translate.

All that is to say that I have no idea what was being talked during this lunch.

At some point, my partner turns to me and tells me that his aunt has mentioned to the principal what I do for work, and she has asked if I would be willing to give a talk to the kids tomorrow.

“Uh…I don’t speak Turkish,” I replied.

“That’s ok, just do it in English. They are learning English and will understand a lot of it. And anyway, it’s cool to them if an American woman from California comes to speak at their school.”

I felt really put on the spot. There were many, many, many cultural and familial layers being navigated in that moment. I wanted to show up with care for my partner as he was dealing with everything that was going on in regards to his mom and her legacy. I also wanted to care for myself in that moment.

Ultimately, I decided that I’m always down for a challenge that will help me grow in my capacity as a leader and a human, and certainly I would do whatever was within my limited capacity to contribute positively to family dynamics.

I told them I would do it.

I knew my partner would have some family and estate meetings the next morning, so I planned to suggest that I stay back in the hotel to prepare my notes while he conducted his errands. With a strategy in place and some time to organize my thoughts and practice a bit, my nervous system settled down and I was even looking forward to the challenge.

A few moments later, the check was paid and we were walking back toward the school.

“What’s next on the agenda for today?” I asked.

“You’re giving your talk.”

“Woah, woah, woah… wait! You said that was tomorrow!”

“Yeah, no, they want you to do it right now.”

“Right now?! I’m not prepared! I’m also not dressed professionally!”

“It’s ok. Just say what you always say. You talk about this stuff all the time. And you look great.”

“Uh…duuuuuude… WTH. Sigh… ok. But first, I need to pee.”

I (somehow) found the restroom, then made my way back to the auditorium where the kids, teachers, and staff were congregating.

We sat in the front row, like esteemed guests, next to the principal and my partner’s aunt. We watched as an author gave a talk about his new book (I guess). In my memory, this man did not speak English, but whatever he said was so moving that I had tears in my eyes. I was trying to run through what I was going to say to these kids, but all I could think was, “I don’t want to follow this guy.”

And, of course, I had to follow that guy.

They introduced me. As what or who, I have genuinely no idea.

I walked on stage and was handed a mic.

I looked out at a room full of Turkish teenagers who were staring back at me, waiting to see what this random American woman had to say.

And that, friends, is how I came to give my first international talk.

I have absolutely no idea if those kids got anything out of that talk.

And it matters, but also… it doesn’t.

What I do know is that life is always going to keep lifing. And my approach is to meet the moment – every moment – as best I can.

That day, I showed up in integrity and with respect for myself, my partner, his aunt, the principal, the staff, and the kids. I used every tool I had available to me to:

• Remain present while being asked to do something unexpected

• Decide whether I was willing to do it or not

• Figure out (quickly!) how to best support myself in the process of delivering

• Have the courage to pivot in the moment when the plan changed

• Trust that my knowledge about the topic, my leadership skills, and my public speaking practices would all come online in the moment I needed them

To me, that’s what this work is all about: learning to meet both the moment and yourself with clarity, courage, and trust.

From there, almost anything is possible.

What about you? Was there a time when you unexpectedly met the moment? Or didn’t, but wish you had?

I’d love to hear from you. Replies to this post come directly to me and are private Comments are public.

If you’re curious about how we can work together to help develop your clarity, courage, and trust, you can book a call with me here.