Your Courageous Life

(From last week’s Next Step workshop)

Last weekend, I got very scared about money. I started to cry. Then I started to heave as I was crying, shaking. I was really stuck in a Story about money and that Story went something like, “You’re supposed to have a set income, with a set paycheck, and you know exactly when every single thing is happening.” And then that Story quickly became, “What the hell did you leave behind steady paychecks for? It was so much better when you didn’t have to worry!”

Now here’s the thing: There’s plenty of money in the bank. There was no actual money problem that prompted the crying.

Stories don’t necessarily wait for the good old sh*t to hit the proverbial fan before they run like an endless, infinite loop.

To use another example: Back when Andy and I first started dating (almost five years ago! We have an anniversary coming up!) he was perfectly sweet and kind and wonderful. And I remember he invited me to go to a ball game, impromptu when some tickets became available, and I said yes, and then I learned that one of the people in the group going that evening was someone that he had once had a tiny crush on.

I called up a friend and began bawling. “He’s going to see me next to her, and realize that he really doesn’t want to be with me!” I wailed.

I mean, Andy hadn’t done anything. I was just totally caught up in Story. Money in the bank, awesome new relationship–yet, Story Story Story.

(P.S. It’s Belief & Story time over at The Courageous Year, so the subject of Stories in particular have been swirling about my head).

Sometimes my Stories are so conditioned that they passively influence my behavior, like walking around with an assumption that someone won’t like something, when in fact they could care less. Then I forget that I devoted all of that energy to an assumption until I clue myself in next time or when that moment of clarity hits. Other times my Stories hit me smack in the face–like when I’m suddenly crying or wailing (I’ve always liked Elizabeth Gilbert’s description of that kind of crying: “Double pumpin’ it”) and then it’s like “Throw me the life raft, boys, because it’s sink or swim time.”

Despite the embracing of courage now, the simple truth is that in my life’s trajectory I have had more experience with running Stories and staying stuck, or spending long periods of time in the ick feelings, because I was more invested in a Story that “This all sucks” than I was with Stories that serve me (“I choose if this sucks” or “I bet there’s something about this that doesn’t suck.”) It has only been in the past few years that I’ve pulled all of my mental inventory from the Doldrums Bank and started investing in Possibility IPO.

I realized that I have far more “bad” Stories about leaping, taking risks, than I do “good” ones (with “bad” being the ones that don’t serve me and the “good” ones being the Stories that lift me up, support my life vision, etc.) We live in a world where I think it tends to be kinda easy to get risk-averse!

Earlier this week, I made a decision to let go of something that had been been bothering me for awhile. I’d run about a million and one Stories about why it was not working, and it was exhausting to do. I’d had a great session with my Coach in which I realized that I’d been carrying a lot of Stories about how I had messed it up, had make-up work to do, needed to try harder, etc. And then I realized that I was also carrying a Story that one was not ever supposed to “give up” on other people or difficult situations or anything that caused conflict. Where did I get that idea? Sometimes it’s time to let things go (another Story, but one that serves me better and leaves out that whopping helping of guilt).

I was reminded that we work with what we have in this moment–anything else is judging what happened in the past or going into the future, which I don’t know anything about and can start to catastrophize if I’m in a fear-based place. I’d exercised a lot of options around this decision, including the all-important, “Don’t bother with it for awhile, think about something else, allow some space,” and none of them really seemed to shift things.

The funny thing is that I thought that letting go was going to be hard–this was my Story–and I assumed that I would feel grief, fear, loneliness, scarcity. Instead, what I noticed was an immediate sense of relief. And any time I didn’t go into any Stories, and just stuck with the moment and what I knew to be true on a purely objective level, I was able to stand behind my choice. Things felt expansive, like opening up. Whenever I moved away from that and into some Story about lack or fear I was back in an icky space, and whenever I stepped away from that, I was completely in support of myself as a fumbling, stumbling, mistake-making and all around fantastic, vibrant, courageous human being.

And in a series of moments, something opened up until I could feel myself having embraced fully some new Story around leaping: letting go and leaping opens up new space for something that is more of a match to come in.

What kind of Stories have you noticed yourself running about money, time, friendships, jobs, the economy, your parents, your relationships, your kids, people who eat X kind of food, people who wear X kinds of clothes? And, as Byron Katie says, “Who would you be without your Story?” Now that’s a powerful question!

One of the hallmarks of the inner critic is “all or nothing” thinking: If it’s not all happening right now, it’s not working. If you change an old habit three times and then “mess it up” the fourth, it’s not working. If a bad habit didn’t stop the first time you tried, it’s not working.

I also think of this kind of thinking as “I don’t want to water the plant” syndrome.

When we buy a houseplant, we take it home. We fully expect that to keep it alive, we’ll need to, you know, water it. Routinely. On a schedule. And we don’t stand around looking at the plant going, “Why aren’t you growing faster?” We also don’t tap our foot and say, “I watered you last week. Why aren’t you staying fully vibrant and alive without watering, this week?”

So, yeah–people? And especially people changing habits? They need regular watering. And sometimes plant food. And the right amount of light and heat. The occasional stirring of the soil. And sometimes? A total overhaul–a new pot altogether.

And okay, the metaphor is not exactly deep so much as it is obvious, but it’s fitting. Because when was the last time you knew of someone who said they were going to make some kind of change and then they started and then somehow, it didn’t quite reach completion? And did you hear them say things like or take on an attitude of, “I’m a defeated failure/loser/flake who can’t stick to anything”?

Have any of those people you “know of” lately been…you?

I notice myself wanting to do this all of the time with meditation, with slowing down. When I have a lot that I want to do, the old habit is to try and dive in and do too much at once. I’ll think of self-care, of slowing down, but then I won’t want to step into taking the time to slow down because I have an attachment to getting that to-do list done. In those moments, it’s easy to think, “Well, I took time to stop and breathe, to take it slow, yesterday,” as if having done it yesterday means that it doesn’t need to be done, today.

In those moments, I conveniently don’t want to “water my plant” so to speak. I want to treat self-care like this one-stop-shop that I just pop into now and again.

Sorry, friends. It doesn’t work that way.

Now, I mention that the impulse to avoid “watering my plant” is there, and most of the officious self-help articles I’ve seen focus their time on getting people to stop having any impulses not to water their plants. “Here are 10 easy steps to always want to water your plants!” says one article. “Need motivation to water your plants? Here it is!” says another.

These articles often strike me as babying, almost coddling. Helpful perhaps with tweaking some details, yet not always so helpful in the long run, because there’s an element of doing the “Look! Look at the airplane!” to them. I don’t need to be tricked into wanting to water my plants or to get motivated to water my plants.

I just need to have the simple reckoning that if I don’t water my plants, they get sick, and then they die. Then I gotta get a whole new plant.

It’s that adult, and that simple.

Like plants, each project or new habit also has its own watering schedule. It takes time, sometimes, to learn what that is. For instance, I recently started Bikram yoga. When I first began, I needed to “water my plant” by going every day. I knew that if I didn’t go every day at the beginning, I’d be more liable to quit. Someone else might know that for them, every day would be too much and a recipe for quitting. It’s all a highly individual thing, this watering schedule business, and it is learned over time. When I got sick last week, I took some time off. Again, learning from the past–learning from times when I had been sick but “pushed through” and observing how that hadn’t worked for me. When I was in college, my first plant ever was a little cactus perched on my dorm room windowsill. I watered it like crazy and it died. I had made the classic mistake of confusing lots of water with lots of LOVE. Nope. Dedication and determination are highly individual. I needed to adjust the watering schedule to the task at hand.

Also, it is helpful if I do not make watering my plants my new life or death Story. Sometimes we miss a watering. Sometimes we miss so many days or weeks that the plant…dies. Then it’s time to head back to the nursery and get a new one (because plants are good to have around, you know? one wouldn’t want to give up on them altogether). I try to catch all of my underwatered, under cared-for plants in their sick and ill stage so that I can try to shore up their health before they hit the dead and wilted stage. When I am not able to salvage anything, and death happens, I think a little healthy grieving could be in order (“Leafy was such a gooood little guy!”) but not too much.

And to carry this metaphor just one inch farther, I’ll share that I do not think it’s good to keep the old, dead, wilted remains of a plant laying around. This becomes a Graveyard of Failure, and who needs it? Sometimes I can tell that people are keeping these things around (sometimes I discover one or two of my own old dead things in a corner), and it doesn’t serve anyone.

Plants work with what they got. It’s this time, this soil, this plant life. We start again and again with the moment that we have, the resources that we have, the lives that we have. We can choose to water, or not water, our projects and undertakings.

Have you ever noticed yourself being “watering-avoidant” with the changes or projects in your life? What do you do to reinvigorate yourself? How well would you say you do with letting go of the “dead plants” of life?

P.S. Registration for The Courageous Year continues...Woot woot! Lots of plant watering goodness going on in there.

I have a Marketing Guru.

We met by happenstance in the midst of an e-course. We decided to trade coaching for marketing help. And right away, one thing became very clear: I was the coach, helping someone step into BIG living and being seen in their life. And my Marketing Guru became my coach, helping me to step into BIG marketing and being seen in my profession (which is in alignment with my life and thus often feels very much like “my life”).

And really, they are in so many ways the same thing, with the same processes and stumbling blocks. Little brain goes: “I am going to take a risk and do something new that I have never done before, and I’m almost guaranteed to make mistakes and I’ve been taught by most of the people in my life that mistakes are bad. Now what?”

Confession: I have an inner critic that tells me all the time that I am “doing it wrong.”

However, I can comfortably confess that because I know that I’m not alone in that. (P.S. All of you Etsy shop owners, we’re in this together!)

I’ll daresay that for most people, the question of how to get word out about their new business is the most daunting aspect of the new business. I’ve been coaching for years now. I’m excited about it, always learning something new, etc. And when I first began coaching, I worried that I was “doing it wrong” but luckily I had mentors and people around me helping me, giving me feedback (and I still have those people).

My Marketing Guru got me all set up and ready to go and SEO-optimized and full of ideas. That’s as far as she could take me. Now the rest of the work is my own. And, that is also like life–when I work with a coaching client, we can brainstorm, clarify, and be accountable around practices. But ultimately, the client is the one who puts that into practice in their life. At some point, one must risk being seen for who they are and what they stand for.

My experience of “marketing” (a word I still feel a little ick around) is about 10% updating my site or spreading word, and 90% fear of being seen.

Because, ick–being seen can be so uncomfortable. It can be so misinterpreted. It can so often be confused with selling something. And I don’t want to “sell anything” to anyone. I much prefer the idea that I’m offering something and perhaps they like it. And if they don’t, they’ll pass, and that’s cool, too.

Chris Guillebeau once said: “I try to avoid ‘selling’ in general–even though that’s technically what happens with products. Instead of the selling mentality, though, I think more about offering solutions to problems. If someone has a problem and they like my proposed solution, great. If not, I’m not really interested in pressuring them to change their mind.”

Right. What he said. That’s what I want to do.

Except sometimes, the stretch of being seen feels even like that–how much is too much? How often is too often?

I felt super triggered a few weeks ago when someone made a comment on Facebook about someone who marketed themselves too much and too often. I immediately went to a space of, “Oh, gosh, I bet I do that. I bet I’m wrong.” (I’m not suggesting that the person making the comment was wrong–I’m owning that my reaction to reading it was to be triggered, to step into an old habit around thinking I’m fucking it up).

I was able to recognize when I was triggered that that’s what was going on–I was triggered. That’s my work. My responsibility. Not theirs. Also, I still have hangups around self-promotion. Is it fake? Is it cheesy and schmaltzy? Can people tell that when I’m describing The Courageous Year as a really powerful process, I’m really believing that and not just using some ad-lingo that sounded good?

What helped immensely when I was triggered? Recognizing that this was work around fear of being seen, of being too much, of playing life “too big.” Marianne Williamson and the fear of success and no one is served by our playing small. All of that.

My coach routinely says to myself or my partner (whom he also coaches): “Risk annihilation.” The first time I ever told him that I was afraid of, you know, failing and ending up in a cardboard box and all of that, he smiled and said, “So?”

Which sounds looney.

But the thing is, if I’m seriously living my vision for myself, taking risks, and being willing to embrace everything that comes into the circle of my existence rather than picking and choosing (which really amounts to playing it safe), I’m probably going to “fuck it all up.” Except he would rephrase that as simply “learning from life.”

And part of this big vision I have, which is–when I stop to get perspective, also helpful!–is not such a huge massive dream. To do work that I love and support myself? Nah. I’m not exactly re-inventing the wheel, here. People do this. People have done this. People will continue to do it.

Where are the scariest places in your life for you to “be seen” for who you are? Is there anything that you would like to do, but that you avoid for fear of being seen (i.e., in a business, in relationships)? Any other small business or Etsy shop owners out there who know what I’m talking about with this marketing stuff? And how do you deal with the days when you worry about being seen?

P.S. According to random.org, Caiti is the winner of the PolaPremium giveaway! Congrats!

There are two things that I have been thinking about a LOT this year: One is how BIG I want to be/live. What that looks like; What it would entail; Where my edges are that are waiting to be leaned into.

The other is the role that collaboration plays in that. “Tribe” is the word used often on the internet, and I like it. It conjures up images to me of community, connection, and support.

Unfortunately, I have not always found community, connection, and support among the friendships in my life. I take full responsibility for that. The lack of those things showed up either at times where I was unwilling or unable to give community, connection, or support and deferred instead to old habits or fear-based behaviors. I also take responsibility even when I knew that I was giving my best–I take responsibility for any friendships that I have allowed into my life where I “teach” people how to treat me. In the past, I have taught that is that it’s okay to be inconsistent or unavailable, and that I’ll still be there waiting.

I think that these two issues are intimately connected because, as Deb Talan says in her song Big Strong Girl, “You can’t do it all alone, and if you could, would you really want to?”

I don’t want to do it all alone.

I crave being fully seen, without the two-sided dimensions (i.e., if I’m sad I’m not a basket-case, and if I’m happy it doesn’t mean that I have it all figured out). 

I want connection, authenticity, real talks, real honesty.

I want acceptance of my imperfect process, my fumblings, my stumblings, and in that–trust that when I do mess it up, it’s never intentional. 

I also want a commitment to something more than the blame game, the complaints, the drama! Everyone needs to vent–with a container around it, I even consider it a really healthy thing–and yet I’m just not invested any longer in a Story about how bad it all is. I’m not suggesting lies and roses and pink; I’m suggesting a commitment to something bigger than the tired old line that the world is going to hell in a handbasket.

And, I am clear that I’m ready to give those things as well as receptive to receiving them.

I really liked what Carolyn Rubestein and others said in this video chat on non-supporters. Since stepping out on my own and into a new career a few months ago, I have felt acutely, even painfully aware of how people will or won’t choose to support what I’m doing. How do we deal with that? What’s behind the behavior, and what do you do when someone who is an otherwise good person shows a lack of support during a difficult time in your life?

Well, here are a few things:

1.) I try to remember that whatever shows up is just as much about my reaction as it is the other person’s behavior. 

2.) If I say that I’m wanting acceptance, it is good to ask in the face of someone else’s behavior: Am I giving it?

3.) I believe that any time someone treats others in a negative way, this is nothing more and nothing less than their own wounds, showing up. People who are wounded around getting support for themselves will have trouble giving it.

I’ve had relatively little direct or mean forms of non-support, where someone was trying to be intentionally cruel. It both did and did not bother me. Passive-aggressive forms of support tend to drive me the nuttiest, especially when social media is used to disseminate them. For instance, I fail to understand people who leave nasty comments about Dooce. Why in the world are they reading her website if they dislike her? 

So I have a question, essentially the same question they were asking over at Spring: How do you deal with non-supporters, whether that shows up in the form of direct cruelty or a lack of enthusiasm/support/participation from people in your life?

P.S. Yes, the Polaroid giveaway is still going on until tomorrow at 6am Pacific!

It was a few months ago that Susannah was visiting San Francisco and while she was there, a small group got together for tea at the SFMOMA and she showed us some Polaroids she’d been taking. I had known about her website for awhile, even signed up for her e-course, and thought that her pictures on her website were beautiful. And yet it was when she pulled out the stack of photos she’d taken on that trip that I connected with the Polaroids and went, “Ooooh, that’s fun. I want to do that.”

I put the call out on Facebook–did anyone have an SX-70 or some other old Polaroid camera that they were open to letting me have or play with? Within an hour, someone said they were happy to give me their old Polaroid 600 camera. And it was my search for film that lead me to The Impossible Project.

The Impossible Project took over the last existing Polaroid plant in an effort to find some way to continue manufacturing the film. This year, they plan to be in completion of that “impossible” goal of producing their own version of the film. This is exciting for Polaroid lovers, and while I don’t profess to be nearly as well-acquainted with this form of photography as so many others are, I am definitely having a lot of fun with my camera.

Now, the Polaroid 600 camera (which you could probably find for $2 at your local Goodwill) is a lot of fun. But I was hungry for the dreamy vintage tones of the SX-70. So I began the arduous task of hunting down a working SX-70 on eBay (I advise that if you decide to bid on anything, make sure that the person offers a return policy, because my first camera was billed as working on eBay, but did not in fact work). My second try was better: I found an SX-70 and it worked.

The Impossible Project’s store, the PolaPremium site, sells SX-70 film but I had already purchased 600 film locally to go with my Polaroid 600 camera, and I wanted to just use that in the SX-70. 600 film can be used with the SX-70 but it’s a faster film speed, so it needs to be adjusted with an ND (neutral density)  filter. I ordered one from PolaPremium but it didn’t show. I contacted them and Anna was all, “No worries! Must’ve been lost in the mail. I’ll send another out.” Lovely service, yes?

I received an ND filter in the mail a few days later–fantastic! But suddenly, yet another one arrived! It was then that I realized that the first ND filter had been only been delayed by the mail service, not lost, and now this second one had arrived and I had two.

So why not do a giveaway? I suggested to her. And then she added the idea of throwing in a pack of film to the giveaway winner!

So, then–if you are a Polaroid lover, an SX-70 fan, someone who’s loved Polaroid photography sites such as Darlene’s, someone who would love to have a pack o’ the good stuff and an ND filter to boot to save for a rainy day when you find your own working SX-70…

Giveaway: One ND filter and one pack of 600-speed film to the lucky winner (to be determined by the random.org number generator). To enter the giveaway, leave a comment here describing either a.) the best shot you’ve ever taken with your Polaroid camera or b.) the type of dreamy shot you’d love to take!

Giveaway ends: Wednesday, Feb 24th at 6:00am Pacific Time.

Important: You’ll need to check back here on Wednesday morning to see the winner announced, and contact me no later than Thursday afternoon if you are the winner. If I don’t hear from someone, I’ll need to choose an alternate.

A thank-you to PolaPremium for the giveaway!

A few weeks ago, during a session with my own coach, he said to me–in a tone that was both loving and direct–“You still give away a lot of power to what other people think.”

He was absolutely right.

Now, I do make every effort to avoid describing people, situations, life in terms of EXTREMES–things are either one way, or another way. So I want to acknowledge myself up front for all the work that I have done in this area–work of letting go and letting others have their opinions, because their opinions are their work and my opinions are my work.

I also want to acknowledge that “what other people think” is still my kryptonite. On my best days, in my head I am totally powerful (with power being used in the sense of being powerful, not manipulating/controlling others). I’m soaring. I’m ready to live my vision. I’m ready to be completely abundant–financially, in my relationships, in friendships. I’m ready to share my dreams boldly and fearlessly with others, with the world. I’m ready to declare that I am a fantastic person, deserving of love and compassion–and that so are YOU, because we all are!

And all it takes is one ill-timed blog post where someone talks about how “annoying” happy people are, for me to shrink up; who wants to be made fun of as one of “those” people?

Or noticing that when people are ganging up together to complain or vent, I don’t want to be left out of that conversation by either not participating or by suggesting that there might be a solution to a problem. I mean, what a conversation stopper–”Well, what if we thought about…” in the face of a problem? I can already hear the crickets chirping! The pull to get in my own complaint so that I can be part of the group is really, really strong.

I mean, in these past few weeks I have actually felt, in bits and pieces, that it almost feels “wrong” to be happy! How can that be? Isn’t that what we’re all striving for? Isn’t that why people go to therapists, get into relationships, buy books, take trips? To be happy? Aren’t we all (or most of us) saying to ourselves that we want to live big, we want to live with freedom from self-criticism, we want to put ourselves out there?

Yet then there is the backlash when someone actually IS happy–How “annoying” they are! Look how they try to act like they’re perfect. She’s pretending to know it all! What a faker! Everyone’s just trying to be a “guru” these days! She puts herself out there too much, too often! It’s not real! Everyone has anger and judgements, and you’re pretending not to feel those things with your “happiness!”

And this is where I am at in my journey, straddled between two worlds like I’ve got one foot on the boat and one foot on the dock: A part of me totally gets that these sorts of statements and the inferences behind them are a reflection of the speaker’s own fears and limitations, not mine. Furthermore, I am totally in choice about the Stories I run about these statements, as well as how much power and choice I give them. Another part of me recognizes that it is my kryptonite: I want to come running back, especially in situations where I see a lot of people circling like vultures to go, “Yeah! Yeah! That’s right! Happy people! It’s sooo fake! They need to quit it with their…”

And this, I recognize, is a reflection of my own fears around not completely finishing that journey–the one that I started years ago–in which I embraced that I, and everyone, has a right to be happy, and that we do not win (and the world does not win) when we play our lives small by rejecting happiness.

So here’s my declaration:

Happiness isn’t selfish. When people are annoyed by happiness, I believe it’s a reflection of their own discomfort with embracing happiness and a willingness to let go of the old, fear-based  Stories that life can’t be any other way. Embracing happiness and choosing it willingly, and spreading a message of happiness as a powerful possibility, are not attempts to be perfect or “have it all together.” I think it is a courageous thing to bypass the drama and snarck and willingly embrace happiness in a world that is just jumping to sell me on yet another problem that I could spend money to “solve.” It’s not faking anything to embrace happiness, even if I don’t have all the cogs figured out just yet. It’s a powerful thing to step into, even before I have it all figured out.  (It’s a hallmark of the inner critic to convince us that it’s “all or nothing” and that you can’t make a move until you have everything settled). No one who is trying to be a guru by spreading messages of happiness or empowerment will be successful in that endeavor unless they have followers–so I follow who I resonate with, and let go of the rest (and notice the discomfort some people will have with anyone who tries to step out as a leader). Putting myself out there too much or too often? Again, who is to say? And what kind of Story is the speaker of that too much/too often criticism running about their own BIGness, their own willingness to be fully seen, with that kind of statement? And what kind of compassion can I extend to them, despite how they deliver their message? Yes, everyone has anger and judgements, and again, when I step away from “all or nothing” thinking, it becomes okay to embrace being happy as a path to choose. I could even use the anger and judgements as tools to open up to deeper happiness. Truly happy people don’t pretend not to feel emotions like anger or judgement or sadness; they simply reframe those emotions as opportunities instead of buying into a collective consciousness that is, at times, hell-bent on martyrdom, drama, victimization, and bonding over negativity and putting others down rather than something that connects us positively and builds each other up.

What’s your kryptonite? What do you notice causes you to shrink?

And what’s your declaration? Use the comments to share, or respond with a post on your own blog and link it here.

A few years ago, I began a practice that would radically alter my life: appreciations.

I stopped assuming that people in my life knew how I felt about them. I stopped assuming that someone knew that I valued their time, their work, their input. I stopped assuming that the cashiers or the sales workers on the floor didn’t need to hear my sincere thank-you, because after all, it was “their job.” I stopped assuming that the people I randomly interacted with who had beautiful smiles or a fun outfit knew that they looked fantastic. I stopped assuming that the mothers who were taking care of kids walked with a belief that of course they were good mothers, of course they were doing a great job with their kids.

So I stepped into a practice of appreciations.

It felt incredibly strange at first–oddly, my biggest fear that kept me from wanting to make the appreciation was a fear that the person was thinking I was kissing up or just trying to get something out of them. But I tried it a few times and noticed how the person’s face would just light up entirely (usually), and I liked that moment of connection. I grew up watching my Dad chat up cashiers–he would always ask how much time they had left at work, and ask how they were doing in such a sincere way, and I noticed that it made it such a nice experience.

Working with the Challenge Day organization has reinforced this all the more–co-founders Rich and Yvonne encourage people to ask strangers, “What are you grateful for?” or “What’s your biggest dream?” Asked with a simple, casual and conversational tone, these needn’t be questions that are “too deep” for everyday conversation, but rather quick questions that can inspire this little hit of connection between people.

The other day my sister called to tell me that she had bought a house! I was so excited for her–and said so. And as I was talking to her, I was thinking of how far she has come, because the past year and a half has not been an easy one for her (moving to a new city, health issues, loss of a major relationship, etc.). So I spoke into that: “Look how far you’ve come! This is so amazing and I’m so happy for you and excited for you!”

Try Something New: experiment with telling everyone, from the casual encounters to the people who mean the most to you, something you appreciate about them. Acknowledge them for all things big or small, even if you think that they probably “already know” this about themselves.

Who’s the first person you would like to acknowledge, and what would you like to say? Do you notice a difference in your day if you make interactions with the more “casual relationships of your day,” like cashiers or service staff, more personal?

When I was in Italy this past summer, I did not have a television. “Ah, no problem,” I thought. “I won’t need a TV! I’ll be in Italy! Who would watch TV in Italy! It would be a crime!”

Well, then. About that.

It’s not that I “needed” television so much as sometimes, in the afternoons when the sun was a sweltering and humid 99 degrees, and I’d already sketched, photographed, done yoga, studied Italian, read a book, cleaned up my little studio apartment and could not venture out in the heat for fear of collapsing on the cobbled streets, I needed a way to just deprogram.

Now, I know, I know. It has become the new hipster thing to get rid of your television. It’s the very definition of not being commercial and leading a more meaningful life. I’ll happily join the hipster brigade on that one, because when we moved into our new place, we did not put a television in the living room. Andy has one back in his “man cave” (the guest house out back that he uses as his office), but that’s really for sports. If we watch “television” these days, it’s on a laptop in the living room. Episodes of The Office and that sort of thing; whatever we can download on Netflix. Usually that means I end up watching a lot of documentaries, and far less television than I used to.

When I’m not watching Netflix, I’ll watch  TED, since just one or two of these talks that average 28 minutes can really be a perfect little lunchtime accompaniment.

Even better? TED talks don’t ROT YOUR BRAIN, the way regular TV does. When I was in Italy and had no television, I figured out that TED talks can be downloaded for free–so I would download them onto my little iTouch, a bunch at once that seemed interesting, and then I’d have something to watch.

This talk, referenced above, is by Eve Ensler (yes, creator of The Vagina Monologues). It touched my heart so deeply over lunch the other day, because I, too, am an EMOTIONAL girl, someone who feels things deeply, someone who spent years thinking there was something wrong with being “emotional” and swallowed her tears until she had that throat-chokey feeling, and someone who now cries openly when I think of women in other countries who put up with atrocities that I cannot even imagine, yet emerge with something one might call “Hope.”

I’m also a huge fan of this Tim Brown talk on creativity and play, because I think it speaks so deeply to what happens to us as we adults get older and start thinking of creativity differently.

I’m curious–why do you think it is that as we get older, we are more likely to deny ourselves things like emotions, or creativity? Why do you think it is that we, as a society, start to push away those aspects of ourselves?

Interestingly, it seems like research is pointing us more and more back in the right direction–of valuing play, valuing emotion.

The Courageous Year…A New Opportunity from Kate Swoboda

So, I’m pretty tickled and excited (and, let’s be honest–feeling the overwhelm, the fear that comes along for a ride with this wave, the impulse to control and then a conscious choice to let go and surrender!) because not only did Across Mediums start today, and not only did the first group of Courageous Year participants transition from the Self-Care portion of the course to the Belief & Story portion of the course, but–

A new group is invited to register for The Courageous Year. You can read more about the course here, or watch the video above.

I think e-courses are fantastic ways of connecting across thousands of miles, sharing who we are, and moving forward at our own pace. There are so many great ones out there, all serving their different purpose. The way that so many of us are connecting through the e-course process reminds me of the line from Deb Talan: “You can’t do it all alone–and if you could, would you really want to?” It speaks to collaboration, a huge coming together of people who are creating something that was not there before–an experience.

I’m constantly refining and adding to The Courageous Year. When I first began, I thought that lessons would be delivered primarily in text format. Then participants responded enthusiastically to a random video that I added, so I started to add more of those. There was a call to find a way to document the process and organize thoughts about the lessons, so I made an e-book–which turned out to be 100 pages of goodness. I was granted the opportunity to interview several inspiring souls, who I could never thank enough for being a part of my wee little project.

What do you think of e-courses? What do you like about them? Is there anything that you think would make them more effective?

For the past two weeks, I have arisen every morning at 5am. Wait. No.

I have not arisen. My alarm clock has gone off. I have turned it off. I have sat up in bed and braced my neck back to stretch it, and I have almost fallen asleep again more times than I can count. I contemplate going back to sleep. What drives me to get my ass up and out of bed is this one simple thing: I am somewhat convinced that if I arrive to yoga class late and have to put my mat in one of the few open spots remaining at the front of the room, I might DIE.

So I get out of bed and shiver as I pull on one teeeeeeensy pair of yoga shorts and one tank top, then pull on another layer of pants and long sleeved shirt and a jacket over that. Then I fill one water bottle, and grab the other water bottle that I had filled and put in the freezer the night before; it is a stainless steel Kleen Kanteen and it is one hard, solid chunk of ice. My yoga bag with mat and towel are also next to the door.

The idea is to take care of as much as possible the night before, so as to not have to think at 5:30 am.

At 5:30 in the morning, it is very quiet in my neighborhood. Turning on my car feels loud. But there are actually cars on the highways, and as I drive the paltry seven miles to the yoga studio–seven miles that would take at least a half hour each way if I were taking a class later in the day–I’m wondering where they are going. Are they early birds? Going to work? It is still pitch black out, and since I’ve only been doing this for a few weeks, I find myself wondering if I will discover that it is light out when the seasons change.

Fast forward to 6:00am. Class begins. The lights are unflinching. I have set up my mat at the back of the room, close to a window, where I’ll get at least a bit of a breeze if the instructor is kind enough to crack the windows. Arriving late would be a death sentence–the only spots remaining would be front and center, where one imagines the heat pools like the core of the earth.

I fucking hate the breathing part at the beginning, because a few weeks ago I had a neck spasm thing and my neck was in total traction, and while it’s healed up now, I still wake up in the mornings with stiffness. So I don’t want to bend my neck forward while my elbows go up, nor do I want to tip it that far back, thank you very much. Basically, I’m grumpy the entire first ten minutes in that 105-degree heat. I am someone who typically likes heat, loves that feeling of getting into a car on a warm day and keeping the windows rolled up for just a minute. And conversely, I hate–loathe–being cold. Yet that first ten minutes, I’m like a judging factory. Imagine a widget factory with a conveyer belt popping out widgets, only instead of widgets I’m popping out judgements. She sounds pissed off today. He’s too perky today. Quit telling us to breathe louder. It’s fucking hot in here. Why is it so hot? It’s hotter than normal, isn’t it. Did they crack the windows at all? I hate it when people who can’t balance stand at the front of the room and then their wobbling gets my balance off. I’m a good balancer normally, except for when people like YOU are standing in front of me. Ugh. Why is that guy up there wearing paper thin WHITE shorts in a Bikram class? Whoa. Whooooaaaa, buddy. Watch it on that backward bend. That’s more than I wanted to see at…yes. 6:15 in the morning.

And then at some point, usually when I start needing to balance on one leg for something and quit it already with the mental dialogue, all of that falls away. I even stop thinking about the heat. I don’t do any of the postures perfectly. They keep telling us to “put your forehead to your knee” and I’ve started looking around, thinking, “I’ve been practicing yoga for more than ten years now–my forehead just doesn’t go to my knee. Maybe I have a weird body or something?”

By the time the warmup is finished (yes, I too thought, “We need a ‘warmup’ in a 105-degree room?” the first time an instructor called it that), my “block of ice” has melted halfway and now I have ice cold water and a little iceberg that clinks when I tip the bottle back.

And after class, I feel great. Freaking fan-tastic, like every single cell in my body is alive. The second bottle of water–the one that I didn’t freeze–is waiting for me in my car. I drive home feeling really peaceful, thinking deeeeep thoughts, thoughts like:

Water is soooo goooooooood.

I head home, get there at about 8am, strip off sweaty layers, and–look, I’m just going to be honest here–admire my body in the mirror. For real. You cannot get up at 5am to do 90 minutes of yoga in an oven, and then not stop to notice how after only 2 weeks, your ass looks great. And your arms. And your abs. And your thighs. And your calves. And your cheekbones are more prominent. Jawbone, too.

Now, to be fair, I’ve been doing mirror work, checking out my body in the mirror for a few years now–I’ve been doing it whether my thighs were muscular from triangle pose or soft and pliable, all in service of loving my body no matter what state it is in, thanking it for all that it does for me, all the ways that it works, all the ways that it bends, all of the messages that it sends me to let me know how to keep it protected. Looking more and more muscular is just a cool side benefit.

But you know what the hardest part of the entire thing is? Getting up at 5am and getting myself out the door. Nothing compares to how monumentally difficult that feels.

In essence, the hardest part of all of it is simply showing up.

And to keep showing up.

To come, complete a class, and know that the next day I will get up and complete another one.

I’m curious: Where in your life is it hardest to show up? Where in your life is hardest to keep showing up?

P.S. Registration for Across Mediums ends today (Friday!).

Florence, Italy.

Italy is a place that feels to me like a second home. In my travels there, I have stepped off of the plane and felt largely utterly in place. I am content to simply wander and people watch and notice (oh yes, and–stop for gelato).

One of the first things that caused me to love Italy so much was the language. I would hardly be the first to declare Italian the most beautiful language on the planet; all of those luscious rolling rrrrr’s and the way a sentence in Italian drifts off of the tongue…truly, I could probably listen to an Italian simply read the phone book. My joke is that normal people dream of summer houses and size-2 waistlines. I dream of being able to speak Italian fluently, effortlessly.

So today, try something new: Learn 10 words in a new language. I’ll offer up ten words in Italian, just because I love it so much. But any ten words will do. Choose a language that you have always been particularly drawn to, whatever it may be, and just look up the words in a dictionary online and put them on a few post-its and keep them around throughout the day. Or write down the Italian words I’m offering you, here. Maybe this is something that would belong in that book “Stuff White People Like,” but something about learning Italian and having the words hanging up around my house feels a little…exotic.

And I’m going to offer up my favorite Italian words/expressions, too:

1.) Buongiorno= good morning

2.) Meravigliosa = wonderful!

3.) Perfetto! = perfect!

4.) Porca miseria! = “miserable pig” an expression used the way we say, “Dammit!” when dropping something or making a mistake.

5.) Puo repeterle? = Can you repeat that/it?

6.) Dov’e il bano? = where’s the bathroom?

7.) Sono molto stancha. = I am very tired.

8.) Ho fame. = I am hungry (literal: “I have hunger.”)

9.) Me le cavo = “I can get by.” I picked this up from Elizabeth Gilbert’s book Eat, Pray, Love, and the Italians nodded approvingly when I used this.

10.) Mi dispiace, per favore, non fumare. Io sono gravida. = “I’m sorry, please, no smoking. I am pregnant.” This one comes in handy when the cigarette smoke starts to get on your nerves. If you’re a guy reading this, I’m sorry that I can’t offer you something.

Speaking of Italy…

Want to go?

I’m planning a retreat there from October 11-15th. The retreat is a Courageous Play retreat, meaning–this is about being in Italy. This is about indulging completely in beautiful scenery, speaking Italian, painting, writing, napping in the grass, taking optional day trips. You don’t have to “do” anything–you simply get to relax. The villa where I’m planning this retreat is absolutely gorgeous–we’re talking stone buildings, an enoteca for wine-tasting, stunning sunsets, walking along a gentle stream on a one-lane road gorgeous. We’ll go to the pasticherria for pastries and amazing cappuccino in the mornings, duck into Florence by bus (a quick 15-20 minute hop), explore the back roads of the city, take pictures, nap in the afternoons, go on gelato runs. 

Retreat price: $1,000, paid in installments (if you wish–of course, you can also pay in full up front).

Includes: Lodging from the 11th-15th, two meals per day (locally grown, fresh food), painting / writing/ photography classes, a portrait session, and the use of a salon where we can spread out, me as your guide, acting as a point-person for optional day trips to antique fairs or medieval towns nearby.

If you have always wanted to go to Italy but have been afraid to go because of gluten issues or a related food allergy, fear no more–we’ll have access to our own kitchen, which means that you’ll be able to stock food there. I can also work with the villa to ensure that we have access to food that meets your needs.

The PDF with more details: http://www.yourcourageouslife.com/italyretreat.pdf

At this point in time, I have room for four more people. If you’re interested, contact me ASAP to get started: kate @ yourcourageouslife .com.

This might be the oddest thing for me to suggest one “tries as a new thing,” yet it is something that was new for me to try, and something that I’ve found really valuable: hiring a financial advisor.

My interest in hiring a financial advisor began at the time that I started working for myself. I knew that I frequently had questions about my assorted money options, and I knew that I wanted to feel like I had more of a plan for my finances. I am not “rich” by comparative standards of The United States or California (I’m always careful when making statements about myself financially that I am not getting too out of touch with how rich, in fact, the majority of us in the 1st world really ARE), but I do feel it’s important to save money and plan for my future. It hasn’t escaped my attention that we are in the midst of a rapidly changing economy, and furthermore was feeling pretty pressed for time–quite pressed, in fact–and sensed that without some outside accountability, the day when I would actually head to the library, hunt down the books, and then read them, would be too easily put off.

Now here’s the thing–I totally could do this on my own. I could go snap up some Suze Orman books like it’s hot, maybe check out a little CNBC programs on money. Who’s that guy who’s always yelling and screaming when he gives stock tips? I think I’ve seen them making fun of him on The Soup. Nonetheless, through a series of serendipitous turns, I was given a recommendation for a money manager and decided to go in for the free consultation that she offered.

I went out to her office, a little fearful I noticed, and when I got there it quickly became apparent that she would not only save me the time that it would take for me to read up on how I want to invest for retirement, but she was also someone who wanted to work with clients on their emotional responses to money.

Basically, it’s like…money therapy! 

And it’s money therapy that comes in an affordable package–about $100 a month. This includes a 2-hour consult with my financial advisor in which we have gone over all of my finances to create the most accurate picture possible of where I stand, established goals, and discussed some of the triggers that I have around money and what to notice about those next. Bonus round? Because she’s been doing this for 20 years, she can offer me, the new business owner, a lot of informal perspective on trends, business growth, etc. I really don’t have anyone else in my life who can offer that–certainly, my own coach can offer stress-relief around money, but he doesn’t have the business background.

Finally, I see this as a positive step towards really being an adult with my finances. Instead of money being something that I deal with when I “have to,” it shifts and becomes something that I am making a conscious effort to give time and care to. I feel more present and the sessions help to keep me focused.

So, try something new: start dealing with your money. Whether or not that means hiring a financial advisor is a personal choice for you to make, but at the very least, set up an appointment with yourself once a month to look at your finances and figure out where you’re at and where you want to go and to assess whether you are on track. Give money some attention–the good kind, not the, “Ick, I hate dealing with you please go away” kind.

What steps will you take next? What resonates for you as a new thing to try involving money?

There was this moment awhile back where my coach/counselor/mentor Matthew looked at me really directly, straight in the eye, and said something like, “You realize that if you embrace this kind of work, you’re stepping into a whole different way of being in the world.”

It was in that moment that I fully got that while a part of me really wanted to live the life of my dreams, and was excited about what I saw as the potential of fully stepping into my power, and wanted to use tools and be in integrity with me and connect with everyone in my life, there was this very real other part of me that totally did not want any part of that. First of all, part of me didn’t want to to bother because I felt I’d hit upon a truth that was unsettling: “bad” things would still happen. Challenges would arise. I would get triggered. Finally, the truth–it’s all a continuum, there is no ending point where feeling good about life is wrapped up in a pretty little bow.

The other point of resistance was simply wanting to stick with what I’d grown comfortable and accustomed to doing. There was this other part of me that really wanted to stick to repetitive complaints, telling people that I “couldn’t,” etc. I just wanted to be the way I had been, negative, yelling, complaining, angry, prone to drama.

It shocked me to realize that there was this very influential piece of me that was quite content to be that way. Then it struck me that many other people are quite content to stick with that, too. None of us are “bad” or “weak.” We’re just human, and at the end of the day, we prefer our routines over something new. It all sounds “wrong” to say that–we are a world of people buying self-help books and seeking gurus and stretching our bodies into awkward postures hoping it will bring enlightenment. We run to e-courses and therapists and we journal furiously and we’re cathartic about our anger–and yet, I really do believe that most people experience, on some level, a very deep resistance to truly changing their own patterns.

This isn’t a judgement–I still have resistance come up! The only difference between before and after is that now I work with it.

The other day on the Courageous Year forums I posted a question for participants. In essence: “Who would you ‘have to’ be in order to step into living the kind of life you want to live?”

Even though I had not intended for this question to stick with me, stick with me it did. I kept thinking about that moment when I realized all that I would be choosing to give up if I really stepped up my game and started letting go of the petty stuff, having compassion in the face of cruelty, not judging when I felt vindicated in doing so, telling my 100% truth and accepting that someone else might not agree. Even though it sounds like it would be great to let go of all of that, there was this odd clinging that I felt–like I didn’t want to let that go! What would I put in its place?

Which brings me to the other point of resistance that I had–who I thought I would “have to” be if I stepped up my game was a.) perfect, b.) chipper, c.) cheerful, d.) having all the answers, e.) someone who would be made fun of. I believed that I would “have to” become a walking posterboard for empowerment and holding space and being nice. I thought that I’d probably have to stop buying things, especially things like clothing.

In particular, this was a point of resistance around letting go of my job as a teacher. I have received very different reactions when I answer the “What do you do question?” now that I’ve switched jobs. The look that comes over a stranger’s face when I tell them what I do is usually one of curiosity (“What is that, exactly?”) or a quick shut down (“Oh. Nice.”) presumably in the hopes that I will not pull out my business card and start trying to sell them on a “Buy four sessions, get one free” deal. There’s a lot of disdain out there for terms like “positive thinking” and “affirmations.” I can’t say that I blame people. The first time I ever picked up a book on the topic, I was excited and convinced it would work for me. The tenth time, it was like, “Nah. This doesn’t work.” Very discouraging. (P.S. I believe that both positive thinking and affirmations are, in fact, helpful–when combined with work that also acknowledges frustration, anger, etc. All of this put together, in the form of something that can be practiced in small increments, is what I attempt to do with The Courageous Year).

I think it’s important to say that whatever path you follow, if it’s truly authentic, it’s going to make room for the parts of you that feel too broken. It’s not going to tell you that any one part of you is bad, or push you to perfection. I still do all of the things that I thought I’d “have to” give up in order to live bigger: buy clothing, and eat the occasional burger at In and Out, and snap at people when I’m frustrated, and get discouraged. The only difference is the part where it’s practice. (Speaking of which, have you seen the latest PDF e-book? It takes 2-3 minutes to download and is ripe for coloring: http://bit.ly/d86pMU )

So I’m curious to know: who would you “have to” be if you were to fully step into living the life of your dreams, a life where you were completely fulfilled, a life where you took full responsibility for your choices, a life where you were living 100% fully alive and with authenticity? What old roles would you be giving up in the pursuit of that, and what new roles would you be adopting? And do you have any hesitance about adopting the newer role, either because of what others think or because it’s unfamiliar or uncomfortable?

P.S. Registration for Across Mediums closes at the end of this week–and starts Feb 15th! Fourteen days of experimental, creative fun that stretches you. And registration for a new group of Courageous Year participants will open on February 15th! Sign up for the mailing list to get first dibs.

So I confess that this is an example of the type of radical, discharge from the perfectionistic thinking creativity that we’ll be experimenting with as part of Across Mediums. Try something new: draw something upside down (or, hey, see how long you can hang upside down and draw something, if that is what works for you).

When we draw things upside down, we engage our brain in new ways. You’ve probably read before about the roles of the right brain and left brain, and if you haven’t you might really love this book, which I found to be a fast read and fun while not lacking in focus. It’s also a way of being silly, of indulging in that creative play that thisyhere life skills coach is always talking about. (Trust me, if you’d known me six years ago, you’d have said then that I was just about the LAST person to ever end up in a profession where I pimp positive thinking, empowerment, or being downright silly. I was a little devoid of the silly at another point in my life).

But really–when’s the last time you drew something upside down? Find a picture–any picture, just grab the magazine nearest you or something–put it upside down and then start drawing a rough outline. If you’re worried it won’t turn out right–well, you’re drawing upside down. It’s probably not going to be a masterpiece. The point won’t be to draw it “right,” it’ll be just to draw, to be funky, to stave off the winter doldrums with a little piece of silliness.

When you finish your drawing, feel free to take a picture, upload it to Flickr, and then put a link in the comments!

If you’re interested in more creative play, see Across Mediums.

P.S. How did the computer break go?

I’m pretty fascinated by the slow movement and all that is coming out of it–slow cookers, slow travel, etc. The idea is that in our increasingly fast-paced world, something is lost when we are always in a state of GO GO GO.

Something I’ve started recently, and something I’ve noticed a number of other people doing as well, is taking a computer break. My break starts when I end work on Friday and ends when I fire up the computer Monday morning. During that time, I don’t turn the computer on.

What this has given me has been a sense of true, deep, real refreshment that I did not otherwise have when my days were knitting themselves together with email checks and twitter updates and website updates. Working from home now, it is paramount that I am taking computer breaks of more than 24 hours, because otherwise the Workaholic in me comes in and is perpetually invested in something more that I “could get done in 20 minutes.” 

The interesting thing is that during my second weekend of doing this, because I was not yet fully adjusted to this transition, I completely missed a date with a friend–just totally outright forgot about it–because I am so used to relying on my computer’s calendar system to ding at me and tell me that I have an appointment. While I appreciate technology’s help in keeping me together, I see it as not so good that I would completely miss a date with a friend because unless my computer dings at me, I’ve forgotten it completely.

So the computer break could be amended with: Check out your to-do list and appointments before you turn things off on Friday.

Something like that.

So try something new: take a complete and total break from the computer this weekend. Don’t get on, no matter how many times you might be tempted. Write down the phone numbers of people you might need to get ahold of so that you don’t have to look them up in your contacts system. Leave the emails unanswered. Just let go, and take an actual break away from computers and the internet. Take a walk, go to the library, play with play-doh, pull out the paintbrushes, take the camera for a spin, call an old friend, write hand-written letters. Unplug so that you can recharge.

According to the Lomography.com about page, under the section titled, “What the hell is lomography?”, lomography is “an international socio-cultural movement using photography as a creative approach to communicating, absorb and capturing the world. ” I reduce that definition to basically–use photography to capture the world around you, and when we step away from digital we reduce our dependence on machinery or “getting it perfect.”

There are 10 golden rules of lomography, or “lomo” as it is affectionately referred to in shorthand. They are:

1. Take your camera everywhere you go
2. Use it any time – day and night
3. Lomography is not an interference in your life, but part of it
4. Try the shot from the hip
5. Approach the objects of your lomographic desire as close as possible
6. Don’t think (william firebrace)
7. Be fast
8. You don’t have to know beforehand what you captured on film
9. Afterwards either
10. Don’t worry about any rules

Now, I dunno about you, but that seems like a pretty fun list. There is a whole range of lomography cameras that one can use as part of creating the funky pictures of this movement. I’ve been having fun with this Blackbird, Fly camera pictured above, my dad’s old Voigtlander Vitoret from the 60′s, an old Polaroid 600 Land Camera (still waiting for my ND filter to arrive so that I can hit the town with my Polaroid SX-70 Land Camera), and a Holga.

Now, lest you worry that this must be expensive, the Holga is only $25 smackers. And developing 120 medium format film can be costly, however, I have learned that Photo Works SF will develop film via their mail order system for only $10 a roll (this is compared to $7.99 a roll at most local drugstores like Walgreen’s or CVS, which work with 35mm film). So the film development is more expensive, but the more you poke around with lomo, the more fun it is. And dare I say, it’s fun just to press a button and turn the crank on the film, and not know quite what is going to come out!

If you’re thinking that you simply don’t want to buy another camera, there’s also the ultimate in lomo style: making your own. You can make a pinhole camera from your home with a few assorted materials, or even buy a set that is flat-packed and ready to be assembled.

Try something new: get out of the digital and into the lomo for the day. And if it’s been awhile since you even dusted off the digital, try something new by getting out and taking pictures, no matter what.

Yup, the voices may come up that this is stupid or there isn’t enough time or what’s the point anyway. Those voices come up. We get to choose what we’ll do in response to them.

Across Mediums: An Experiment In Radical Creativity from Kate Swoboda

So, okay, maybe you’re looking at this and going, “Really? Try something new–like your e-course? Come on, now.”

But really! I am suggesting that you try something new, and I am looking forward to the utter wild reckless fun of Across Mediums. I’m looking forward to it in large part because now that my days are so full (far, far fuller than I had envisioned them to be when I let go of teaching and set out to, you know, be my own Boss Lady), it is harder to find time to just tap into a wee creative project and have some fun. I see this as being a space where I’ll be able to have some fun while leading others in creating something wild, something that actually makes use of the art materials that I hoard.

Registration ends in less than two weeks (the course starts right after Valentine’s Day!). Click here to sign up (the cost? Only $35–I’m not trying to make a pretty penny off of this course so much as I welcome creating a community of diving in, experimenting, and having fun!).

Now, let’s say that you’re not into e-courses in general or know that you won’t have the time, or it’s not your thing. Cool. For today, try something new by taking the normal amount of time that you spend doing something creative, and now double that.

This is not without merit in the overall scope of our lives. I believe that within us there are aspects of our personalities that are still little kids, and those aspects of our personalities were never meant to stop playing! We were always meant to still laugh, have fun, dance, listen to great music, and color.

Try something new: go to the store and buy the BIG box of crayons, and any coloring book at all will do, and lay on the rug like you used to as a kid (building a fort is totally optional) and just color for awhile. 

Sure, you might feel silly doing it. Sure, some voice might tell you that there are dishes to be washed and fifteen other things to do.

That voice will come up when we try something new. We get to choose whether or not we listen.

P.S. Registration for a whole new group of participants in The Courageous Year is opening right after Across Mediums closes. Make the next 12 months of your life the months that support you in shifting something BIG that you have wanted to shift. Sign up for the mailing list here to be notified when registration for The Courageous Year has opened.

Okay. So you’ve heard of the classical artists like Picasso and Van Gogh. You’ve probably even heard of some modern painters and commercial artists.

But what about graphic designers?

Stefan Sagmeister is an Austrian-born designer who has created some amazing work in the past few years. I confess: I have a bit of a crush on him. I discovered him by a happy accident when I saw his TED talk on how Design can make you happy, and found it to be humorous and multi-faceted and not taking himself (or design) too seriously, yet having a focused quality to the work.

Here is Stefan Sagmeister’s Four-Part Design process, according to his book, “Made You Look”

1.) Think about the project from any point of view–your mom’s, yours, from the point of view of color, from the point of view of form–and write each response down on an index card.

2.) Spread all the cards down on a table to see if you can find the relationship between ideas.

3.) Forget about the whole thing.

4.) The idea will miraculously strike you when you least expect it.

So this got me to thinking–in addition to “trying something new” by now seeking out Stefan Sagmeister and learning about him, I wondered: could his design process be applied to a life challenge of sorts?

So, Try Something New: Think of an issue that you’ve been grappling with lately. Write it down from your point of view, your mom’s point of view…choose like 10 people. Put each point of view on an index card. Then spread them all on a table, and look for the common thread between all points of view. 

Then walk away.

Trust that the idea will strike you miraculously when you least expect it.

It’s “Try Something New” month, so consider that there’s embracing this as a fun way to approach a sticky situation, or there’s declaring it won’t work from the get-go…to what are you more committed?

For several weeks now, I’ve been keeping an idea notebook, jotting down little bits and pieces of inspiration or thoughts or whathaveyou that occur to me. Things I want to try out, things I like and have an itch to pass along, etc.

Then I thought, “Why not a Try Something New month?”

This notebook was one that I picked up in Italy. There was a whole host of various notebooks and I wanted to get this one as a sketchbook for Andy. I loved, among other things, the Helvetica font and the very simple and straightforward message.

Be Open to New Ideas. Delay No More.

So often, those little bits that all come together are the things that make life feel more refreshing and exciting. I think it’s fallacy on some level that one outfit, one relationship, one trip, one book, one whatever is going to “fix it.” 

Nah.

Not one thing.

Lots of little things.

So, okay–at various points throughout the month of February, I’ll be posting “Try Something New” entries, in which I share with you some little tidbit that I think is fun, introduce you to a cool book or website or artist, or share a concept–the kind I am inclined to share in The Courageous Year.

You can decide if you’d like to Try Something New. Think of it like the Job Suckage Challenge (which you can re-read by clicking the Job Suckage category on the left-hand side), a little practice to step into.

Try Something New–just what we need to get us through these last six weeks or so of winter, and into the sunshine.