A Thread Conversation: Julia Frisbie
Growth, bare feet, boundaries + duckies
I’m excited to introduce you to a wonderful friend of mine! I first met Julia Frisbie when she traveled to Alaska on behalf of Imagine No Malaria, an important movement to end malaria in Africa. Since then, we’ve connected in a number of ways through our United Methodist connections. Julia’s energy and love of people is clear. Her connection to creation is inspiring. You can follow along with their Frisbie Farm on Facebook! Enjoy a bit of her perspective in this chapter of life.
Tell us a little about life in this season. What are three words that describe this season?
Growth, permission, and boundaries.
In July of 2023 I became the Executive Director of Faith Foundation Northwest, which is a support organization for faith communities (mostly Methodist ones) in Oregon, Idaho, Washington, and Alaska. We manage long-term funds, teach about planned giving, and make loans to churches. There’s a ton to learn, not only about the mechanics (How do we move money around safely? How do I manage my staff? How do I support my board?) but about my self-regulation and self-awareness, because that can trickle down and affect our whole organizational culture. I have to tend to my own well-being with a level of precision that I haven’t before.
I’m also living with a six-year-old and a toddler who discombobulate everything, and with major health challenges in our family that make it hard to plan ahead. So there’s an element of chaos. When I’m overwhelmed and anxious, I reach for control, but I could spend my entire self scheduling and tidying and optimizing our family life and never finish the job. So there are areas where I’m really investing a lot of mental energy– like my job, and protecting quality time with my kids and my partner– and a lot of other areas where I’m lowering my mental investment at least temporarily, like correspondence and housework and volunteering.
What's something you're curious about lately? Is there a thread you're pulling?
It’s easy to set boundaries with things I don’t care about. (No, I will not fold the laundry, organize the hall closet, or bake cupcakes for the PTA.) It’s hard to set boundaries with things I really enjoy and am interested in. How do I say no to squeezing in one more conversation with a fascinating person who I want to learn from? Or one more round of revision on a policy that will make a big difference for my team?
Remember Ernie in Sesame Street, who loves his rubber duckie so much that he takes it everywhere? It gets in the way and squeaks whenever he tries to do something two-handed, like learning to play the sax. Everyone sings, “you’ve gotta put down the duckie if you want to play the saxophone,” and he won’t do it… until someone tells him that he doesn’t have to put it down forever, just while he’s playing sax. When he knows he can pick the duckie back up later, he puts it down and becomes a jazz virtuoso. And then he picks the duckie up again as soon as the song is over.
I’m still learning how to put down the duckie.
What are you learning about you?
That I need more help than I know how to ask for. That it’s better for everyone if I muddle through and ask anyway.
How is your story shifting? How does that feel?
I used to think that being a good employee made me a bad mom. Like, if I would rather build an investment pitch book than yet another lego vehicle, it meant I didn’t love my kid enough, and I was failing him. It sounds silly, and the concern wasn’t that particular lego vehicle, but the sum of all the lego vehicles that I’d rather not build, and all the soccer games I’d rather not watch, and all the picture books I’d rather not re-read.
Things shift every time I set a boundary to take care of myself. Sleep training. Making time for therapy. Paying for childcare. What’s best for my kids is having a mom who is happy, who can show up wholehearted. Solving interesting problems at work really lights me up, and my kids deserve a mom who lights up! So there’s a growing awareness that my job is something I do not only for my sake, but for theirs. All spring and summer, I brought my not-yet-weaned younger son on business trips, and my refrain was that if we want leadership to look different, we have to show up looking different.
I still worry about the times when I’m in the same room with my kids but I’m looking at my computer instead of at them. What does that do to their feelings? How would it make you feel if the most important person in your world always had something going on that seemed… more important to them than you? So I try really hard not to multitask this way. I’m not the primary caregiver during my working hours. I’m giving myself permission to stop feeling guilty about that.
What brings you home to yourself when life feels uncertain?
I love being outside barefoot. Last time we hiked together, a friend’s child asked, “why aren’t you wearing shoes?” and I said, “because I want to touch the world.” The soles of my feet help me feel alive and also remind me that I am surrounded by other living beings. Leaves rustle, and hummus bounces back, tomato vines make a “thank you” smell, rocks remember the temperature of yesterday, and it’s impossible to feel lonely. I do avoid asphalt in the summer and ice in the winter, but other than that, I delight in bare feet year-round. If you ever see me without shoes on, you know it’s really me.
Funny story: someone I really trust and admire gave a recent speech about how “the shoes make the man.” So I’m not sure what it says about me that I hate wearing shoes… maybe that I’m not much of a man! ;-)
