How to Change a Habit That is Hurting You, Part 1

How to Change a Habit That is Hurting You

In my last post, Are Your Habits Hurting You?, I wrote about the things we tend to do that have been on autopilot, but reached a point where they no longer serve us.  If you have identified a hurtful habit that you are ready to move beyond, read on.   Over the next few weeks, I’ll give you five steps for changing a habit that is hurting you.  Here is step one…

STEP ONE:  Make a decision, a declaration and a commitment to yourself.

There is power in willingness.  I’m talking about more than good intentions here, though that is where it all starts.  People are at the threshold of change when the pain of one behavior becomes greater than its payoff.  But in order for that momentum to take hold, the perceived payoff of making a change needs to be greater than the seeming pain of giving something up as well.

The trouble is, you may not really know what that payoff will be, and though you also may not know just what will be involved with making a change, your mind will be off and running creating scenarios that have you believing it will be far harder than anything you can possibly imagine.   And that can become a real show stopper if you aren’t ready for it.  It’ll keep you from getting out of bed in the morning.  It’ll lead you to head for the hills when you are on the verge of bold, courageous action.  It’ll make the old beaten path you’ve been traveling seem so much more preferable than heading into the uncertainty of whether you will be able to do whatever it is you are learning to do in place of your old behavior.

So you have to make a commitment to yourself.  You have to get really clear in your mind that you will no longer tolerate your old way of doing things and decide that you will do whatever it takes to move beyond it. It helps if you write it down.  And it also helps if you tell someone else about it – someone who can remind you of all the reasons you are doing it, of what you have to gain, and of what you are rising above and why.

Think about a habit you would like to move beyond.  How has it been hurting your effectiveness?  Your credibility?  Your peace of mind?   What would you gain by rising above it?  What could you do if you no longer fell into that pattern of behavior?  How would you feel?

Are you ready to make a change?  If so, make a commitment right now to yourself.  Write it down and then share it with someone who will support you as you endeavor to carry that commitment out.  If you would like to make a public declaration as well, feel free to share your commitment in the comments section below.

Click here for the next step of How to Change a Habit That is Hurting You.

 

 

Image courtesy of Stuart Miles at FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Are Your Habits Hurting You?

We all aim to develop good routines.  But most of us have a few habits that cause problems too.  Maybe it’s the way your temper flares when people don’t do what you want them to.  Perhaps it’s a tendency to turn the other way when things get stressful – to go bury your head in the sand or find something to do that keeps you from having to address issues.  Maybe it’s your inclination to take so many things on that you are running yourself ragged, or a habit of staying in your comfort zone instead of taking the bold leaps you dream about in your quiet hours.

Sometimes even good habits reach a point where they no longer serve you all that well, like the habit of diving into the details after you’ve just been made a leader of leaders who really needs to rely on others to do that for you.   But we tend to hang onto those routine ways of doing things long after they have outlived their value.  Not because they are particularly gratifying, but because they are comfortable and familiar.

Habits act as defaults. We do them without having to think much at all.  They are ingrained behaviors that we revert to when things get stressful, and they have a way of taking over and putting us on autopilot.

There may come a time, though, when habits that never really used to be a problem start making some waves in your life.  They may hurt your effectiveness on the job, or your ability to really connect with others.  They could keep you playing small instead of really stepping into and realizing your potential and living your dreams.  And sometimes they become painful.

I am a runner.  I don’t train and sign up for marathons or anything.  I just do it to clear my head and release tension – and because it makes me feel good.  When I first started running, I just wanted to be able to go for awhile without getting too tired.  I was happy when I managed to get off my butt and just get outside.  Then I started to run a little longer.  And then gradually a little faster.

But the more intensely I did things the way I had always done them, the more I began to notice that I was having pain.  My hips hurt.  My shins were stiff.  There were periods where the discomfort became so intense that I had to lay off running for awhile until my body healed.  And then I noticed it wasn’t long before I was having some kind of pain again.  It was a little maddening.

Interestingly enough, one of my new clients, Nicole Armbrust, is a physical therapist who works with runners to improve efficiency and prevent injury.  She encouraged me to have an assessment.  I was a little hesitant.  Really?  Do I really want someone to tell me about all the things that I should be doing differently?  Do I really want to change something that for the most part was making me feel so good?  The next time I went running and began to feel that familiar stiffness that I knew would morph into  throbbing later, I realized it was time for a change – even though I knew it would not necessarily be a comfortable one.

Nicole examined how my muscles and ligaments worked.  She listened intently as I told her about my history and all my injuries.    She videotaped me walking.  And then running.  And then she had me try some stretches and other exercises.  Alas, many of the things I was afraid of were true.  The strides I was taking were too long.  I was landing on the wrong part of my foot.  One of my hips was tighter than the other, causing me to overcompensate – which of course was adding to my injuries.

She gave me a metronome, which she believes will help correct a large percentage of my problems.  Apparently, much of what I really need to do to correct 95% of my problems is run to a faster beat, which would lead me to take smaller strides and push off and land on the right parts of my feet.

The first time I tried it, I hated it.  It was unnatural.  And I couldn’t just slip into my zone and forget about what my body was doing.  It was an effort to keep my feet hitting the ground that fast.  And my faithful running buddy, a golden retriever named Bellissima, was thrown off too.  “What the heck?”  I could swear that was going through her head when she looked up at me with those big brown eyes of hers.  I was right there with her.

But the more I practiced with that new way of doing things, the less pain I have had, and the faster I can run.  I can run longer and more often.  And I am enjoying myself again.

I think life is a little like that.  Often we don’t seek help until things begin to hurt us.  And though it’s kind of sad that we wait until things become painful to try something different – it is often just the springboard we need to find better ways of doing and being.

Maybe your last temper explosion led people to no longer want to support you, and you are ready to figure out ways of better channeling your anger.  Perhaps the things you were avoiding came to a head in a less than optimal way that made things even more unpleasant and you want to keep that from happening again.  Maybe you have totally burned yourself out and are starting to realize that there has to be a better way of doing things.  Or perhaps the window of opportunity you have been carefully planning and preparing for closed before you dared to act on it and you’re tired of missing out.

When your habits begin to hurt you, you get to decide what you are going to do about them. It’s a crossroads that can be challenging – because though you might be experiencing pain and discomfort with your habit, it likely will seem as though anything you might need to do differently will be even worse.  And that is the root of resistance.

But what I have found through my own experience, as well as that of so many others – friends, clients, colleagues – is that the pain caused by resistance is far worse than anything it would have you avoid.

Maybe you don’t need to wait until it comes to a head.  We all have habits that no longer serve us.  And you already likely know what habit (or habits) are bringing you down.  So the question is, what are you going to do about it?

In my next post, I’ll write about how to change the habits that hurt you.  If you want some support changing bad habits, you might want to consider working with a coach.  For more information on executive and leadership coaching, visit https://dianebolden.com/coaching.html or or contact me to schedule a complimentary coaching call. And if you are more of a “do it yourselfer”, check out my new video program, On the Road to Real or pick up a copy of my book The Pinocchio Principle: Becoming the Leader You Were Born to Be, available at Amazon.com or BarnesandNoble.com.

If you are interested in a running assessment, click here to find out more about Nicole Armbrust or contact her at n.armbrust@spoonerphysicaltherapy.com.

Image courtesy of Michelle Meiklejohn at FreeDigitalPhotos.net

This Could Be the Biggest Obstacle to Doing Your Best Work

My last post, How to Not Be a Slave to Your To Do List, was written just as much for me as it was for you. So I’ve taken my own advice.  I cleared space on my calendar.  I eviscerated my to do list and calendared time to do the stuff I’ve been wanting to do for so long now.  I cleared space and scheduled time to work on my next book.  And I finally sat down to do it.

I opened a document and typed a few words.  And then I stared at the blinking cursor for awhile.  I took a deep breath, read what I had just written, then deleted it and typed something else in its place.  But I didn’t like that either.

I reviewed some notes I had scribbled down a few days prior to see if I could get any inspiration.  It didn’t help.  My gaze went from my screen to my keyboard, where my hands were perched, ready and agile.  Still nothing.

I saw an email notification in the corner of my screen.  Resisting the urge to check my inbox, I closed my Outlook program.

And I sat for several more minutes.  Stuck.  Maybe this isn’t the best time.  Maybe I should go do something else for awhile.  At that moment, anything sounded preferable.  I could trim my fingernails, reorganize my desk drawers, mow the lawn.  Or the neighbor’s lawn.

But no.  I am committed to this.  It is something I have been wanting to do for a really long time.  Why is it so flipping hard?

Have you ever felt that way?

It’s no wonder that we let so many other things get in the way of taking the time to do our real work.  Our real work requires us to face our deepest fears and make our way through our toughest resistance – in the presence of our worst critics.

As soon as you make the commitment to do something important – for yourself, for others, for the world – rest assured anything that has ever stopped you before will come back in your face with an exponential force.

I didn’t get a whole lot written in that particular block of time.  But I showed up.  I didn’t run away.  And I have to say that after awhile things did begin to flow.  I strung a few paragraphs together and once I let go and gave in to the experience, I was delighted with a couple of really great insights that came spilling onto the page.  It went in a direction I hadn’t anticipated and began to take on a life of its own.

Talking with a friend a few days later, I began to realize what it was that got me stuck.

I was fixated on results at the expense of the process. I had become too attached to the end product and what it was going to get me.  I had ideas in my mind of what it would – should – look like.  And I was judging every little thing I was (and wasn’t doing).  If you can envision a small child being led to a table and told to do something, while a rather large, imposing figure stood over her with a club at her head yelling in a booming voice – you have a pretty good idea of the dynamic I had created for myself.    My child was rebelling.  My critic was becoming more and more agitated.  And neither of us really wanted to be there at all.

Perhaps you’ve heard artists or musicians talk about how they could never quit their day job to earn a living doing their craft.  “It would just suck all the joy out of it,” they may tell you.  The problem isn’t so much that they would be paid for doing what they love as it is that they risk having their focus go from the joy of being in the process to becoming too dependent on the result.

The irony is that when you detach from the result altogether and become immersed in the experience, the results tend to take care of themselves.  Superior work is created when you are engaged in what you are doing rather than what it will lead to or where it will get you.

If you have ever played golf or tennis, think about what happens when you allow your attention to go prematurely to the target before you’ve hit the ball.  You will have a crappy shot.  (You may even miss the ball altogether.)  But when you devote yourself to the process – when you are present in your body through every part of your swing, when you follow through and trust that the ball will go right where you intend it to – you have the opposite experience.

The same is true with just about anything.  Companies that focus solely on profits often neglect their customers, their employees or both and spend more time worrying about how to increase their market share and their bottom line than on the quality of their product.  Conversely, those who make it a priority to listen to their customers and employees and create cultures where people do their best work are often rewarded with a loyal following.   Comedians who desperately need a laugh often aren’t all that funny or entertaining, while those who stop worrying about what people think and have a good time on stage end up captivating their audiences and leaving them wanting more.  Artists who sacrifice their passion to pander to the crowd risk producing shallow, uninspiring work, while those who pour their hearts into what they do engage the hearts of others.

When all your attention and energy goes toward the end result, you vacate the process – along with all the energy, passion and unique gifts that go into creating something really special and valuable. Your end product will feel somewhat empty or hollow.  And it is very likely that you will too.

The good news is that the wall created by a fixation on results at the expense of the process is self imposed.  Which means that you have the ability to dismantle it.   In my next post, I’ll share seven tips for breaking through that wall the next time you are stuck.

If you need help overcoming the obstacles that keep you from doing your best work, check out my new video program, On the Road to Real or pick up a copy of my book The Pinocchio Principle: Becoming the Leader You Were Born to Be,available at Amazon.com or BarnesandNoble.com. If you are interested in working one on one with me, visit https://dianebolden.com/coaching.html to learn more or contact me to schedule a complimentary coaching call.

Stay tuned – next week’s post is Seven Tips for Getting Out of Your Own Way and Doing Your Best Work.

Image courtesy of Sira Anamwong at FreeDigitalPhotos.net.

What Happened to Me When the Bottom Fell Out

A little over a year ago, the bottom dropped out of my business.  Many of my biggest contracts came to an end, and it seemed nothing I tried was getting anywhere.  The programs I designed weren’t filling, or would run into major snags just as they were about to get off the ground.  I had no desire to go out and drum up more business – couldn’t figure out what I wanted to do at all.  It seemed none of the things that used to fill me up were working anymore. None of my old strategies had any teeth or traction.  I was lost and discouraged.

The book I had published earlier in the year wasn’t selling the way I wanted it to, which made sense given that I had done very little if any promotion.  It just didn’t feel right.  Nothing really felt right.   I spent months worrying about what was happening to me, trying to find a foothold, and making myself crazy with a huge list of “shoulds” that I couldn’t get myself to do.  I beat myself up pretty bad.  And then I decided the heck with it.  I would accept whatever it was that was happening and just go with it.

One thing I began to enjoy was working with video.  After helping my long time coach and friend Vickie Champion with a video for one of her blogs, she turned the camera on me and pushed the record button before I even knew what I was going to say.  And it was fun – even though it wasn’t quite comfortable with (or very good at) it yet.  We filmed a lot of little video vignettes for my blog and then one day decided to work on something a little more substantive.  We had no idea what was about to unfold.

It started out as a video complement to my book, The Pinocchio Principle: Becoming the Leader You Were Born to Be.  But it evolved into something neither one of us saw coming.  I was tapping creative reserves I didn’t even know I had.  And I was venturing out of my comfort zone – way out.  I threw mainstream to the wind and got a little goofy.

Pinocchio became Pistachio, and I went into character as Jiminea Cricketesia, Voice of Intuition. I dawned a black felt hat, clown vest and a crazy white shirt with ridiculously flared sleeves.  The story we were telling was my own.  And it is the story of so many people I have worked with and continue to work with over the years who have hit a wall trying to play a game that cannot be won – chasing after versions of so called “success” that left them feeling empty and wanting more out of life.  It is a story of the journey that ends the futile search and shines the way to true happiness and lasting fulfillment.

Today, I am thrilled to have the chance to share this series, On the Road to Real: The Adventures of Pistachio with you.  For years I have wanted to provide something that would allow people to get in touch with their own intuition and find their answers in an affordable, impactful way that doesn’t require a huge time commitment.  And that is exactly what this series is – in fact, we are so passionate about helping as many people as possible that we’ve decided to allow people to set their own price for it.

So, if anything I wrote about resonated with you – if you feel like you are running in circles, disenchanted with your work or personal life, or on the verge of a profound transformation that has left you wondering what’s next, I invite you to check this video series out at OnTheRoadtoReal.com/Adventures-of-Pistachio/.  Let me know what you think.  And if you know of anyone who might benefit, spread the word.

“Do not go where the path may lead;

go instead where there is no path and leave a trail.”

~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

Thin rope image courtesy of Idea go at FreeDigitalPhotos.net.

What To Do When You Just Can’t Do Another Thing

“When I’m not running in circles, I’m pretty much collapsing in a heap.”

That flew out of my mouth one day when I was on a call with a few of my friends trying to find a time to get together.  They told me it should be the title of my next book.

And yet, I know the importance of taking regular time to rest.  Well, intellectually anyway.  I can see it in my clients – when they begin to tell me the same things over and over — when all they can seem to talk about is what  they have to do, or how exhausted they are.  And I certainly know it from my own experience.   It’s that old familiar feeling of rolling a huge ball up a hill only to have it come careening back down again.

There is never a shortage of things to do, people to get back to, and in my case, kids to shuttle from practice to sporting event to some other gathering.  I know I need a time out when my surroundings begin to reflect my state of mind – becoming cluttered, messy, and completely disordered.  When I am tired, I don’t make decisions very well (if at all).  I tend to leave them for later, when I will have a little more energy.  But then I use the piles that have accumulated around me as an excuse for why I cannot rest – at least not now – not with everything looking like this!  And the cycle continues.

My head tells me this makes perfect sense.  But my heart and the rest of my body is screaming for relief.

In yoga classes, there is something called “child’s pose”.   You start by getting on your knees and sitting back on your heels.  The knees can stay together or move wider apart.  And then you simply lean forward slowly onto the ground with your arms either by your side or stretched out in front of you.  Every time I get into that pose, I am reminded of how at least one of my children liked to fall asleep when they were babies.

Yoga instructors tell people that the most important thing in yoga is the breath.  it is important to breathe full and evenly in and out your nose.  When your breathing becomes uneven or choppy, when you start to lose your breath in yoga, you will be encouraged to return to this child’s pose until your breathing evens out again.

At the end of yoga classes, there is a pose – one of my favorites – called “shivasana”.  This one consists of laying flat on your back and relaxing every part of your body while you allow yourself to sink into the floor for about three to five minutes.  It’s the pose that allows your body to integrate all the work you did in the class that preceded it.  And many will tell you it is the most important pose in yoga.  And yet, I often see people leaving the class instead of allowing themselves to experience it.

But I get it.  We are a society that is driven to do more, to be more, to be busy, and to always step things up a notch.  The thing is, when we insist on speeding up when we really need to slow down, we lose touch with the wiser, calmer part of ourselves that has all our answers. We run around doing things that may not even need to get done, and creating more piles and messes for ourselves that we’ll have to clean up later.  We may run fast, but it is often in a direction that doesn’t serve us — or anyone else for that matter.  And it often leads us to crash into walls we would have avoided if we weren’t so tired.

Sometimes you’ll get a rush when you do that.  A rush of adrenaline, maybe.  Or a little sense of accomplishment or importance that comes with being really busy.  But my experience is that it is usually fleeting and often replaced by a feeling of exhaustion and overwhelm and a somewhat panic induced state that leads me to believe I have to run twice as fast just to keep up.

The thing is, I used to think that in order to replenish my batteries, I needed to take a long vacation – leave and go somewhere else, sip a pretty drink on a beach or sleep for days.  And while that is nice, it’s not always necessary.  What I’ve learned – and need to remind myself of periodically – is that it is often a matter of simply pausing every once in a while to check in with myself. It is doing something that interrupts the autopilot nature of the running in circles thing.  It’s like looking into a pond that has been churning so fast that the water is murky.  Instead of continuing to make all kinds of commotion, you sit for a few moments and let the water become still until the swirling debris sinks to the bottom and the water becomes clear.

Sometimes this takes the form of a power nap for me.  Even just fifteen minutes of resting my head will do wonders.  Other times it’s a little walk that allows me to breathe deeply and move around a bit.  Sometimes it’s grabbing a cup of coffee with a friend and getting a little distance from whatever is going on.  And sometimes it means saying NO to things I really don’t have time to do.  Often the clarity and the courage I need to do that comes from the brief pause I took that allowed me to realize whatever I was about to say yes to wouldn’t really have been for the best.

These little pauses shouldn’t be reserved for the times that we feel like we just can’t do another thing.  We need to give them to ourselves frequently. Research indicates that people need a fifteen minute break after ninety minutes of concentration – and some studies suggest that we would benefit from a five minute break after every twenty five minutes.  You might think you are losing (or wasting) precious time, but you’ll find that it is more like an investment that pays dividends when you come back from your short break and are able to do in twenty minutes what would have otherwise taken an hour.

So, if you are feeling overwhelmed or exhausted – as though you need to move faster but just can’t seem to find the energy – try slowing down for a little while.  Press the pause button.  Find your child’s pose and catch your breath – whatever that may be for you.  Let the dust settle until you can see clearly again.  Chances are that when it does, you will know just what you need to do – or NOT do.  And you will meet whatever challenge or opportunity awaits you with a fresh mind and a new energy and vitality – one that allows you to access the wisdom, creativity and resilience you need most.

“You have to put in the clutch to shift gears. You have to let go to re-engage at another, more high-leveraged ratio. And when you least feel like slowing down may be the most critical time to do it.”

 

– David Allen’s Productivity Principles

Tired business people image courtesy of Ambro at FreeDigitalPhotos.net

How to Get (and Stay) in Your ZONE

A few weeks ago, I posted an article about feeling your fear and doing it anyway.  I wrote that after going months without writing a single word for my blog.  I thought I wanted to write.  I loved the idea of writing.  But the truth is what I really loved was the idea of having written. There is a difference.  I wanted the satisfaction of having a finished, polished product that made me feel as though I had accomplished something worthwhile.  But I couldn’t get my heart and head into writing at all.

I told myself it was because I didn’t have the time.  There were too many other things I needed to do.  Too much going on.  And while it was true that there my plate was quite full, it was also true that I could have made the time to write if I really tried.

In a moment of complete honesty, I realized that I was simply experiencing plain old yellow bellied fear.  I was talking to a friend one day about my worry that I couldn’t write a decent article. She blinked in confusion.  “But – you’ve written and published a whole book!  You know how to write.”  I laughed in recognition that she was right.  But it didn’t matter.  I was still paralyzed by doubt.  And to make matters worse, I was also judging myself for being a pansy.

Have you ever done something like that?

Have you ever let your fear and doubt keep you from doing what you really need and want to do?

The longer I went without writing, the more monumental the task seemed.  I just wasn’t sure I could still pull it off.  And to save myself the agony of flailing and failing, I just didn’t try at all.  I manufactured a bunch of other things that justified putting it on the backburner.  But it continued to eat at me, haunting the edges of my mind – and so despite my attempts to avoid it, I experienced agony anyway.

One day when I just couldn’t stand sitting at my desk for another minute, I went for a run.  I didn’t really want to, but I needed to get away and clear my head.  It had been awhile since I went running.  My body was heavy and stiff.

“Do I really want to do this?” I asked myself.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.  But I’m gonna do it anyway.”

So I started moving my legs and ran down the street.  It was not fun.  I was not enjoying myself.  But I kept at it because I knew that feeling wouldn’t last long.  I just needed to warm up and find my zone, and then it would feel good.  Maybe even great.  And that’s exactly what happened.  I came back refreshed, renewed, and energized.

And then it hit me.  Perhaps the same approach that got me into my running zone could get me into my writing zone.  Maybe all I needed was to warm up – to give myself permission to not be in my zone, but to move anyway. Every athlete worth his salt knows the importance of warming up.  Broadcasters do tongue twisters before they get on the air.  Some of the best actors are in character long before they get in front of the camera.  Even cars and other machinery runs better when the engines are warm.

I remembered reading recommendations for writing warm-ups.  I had scoffed at them before, thinking they were a complete waste of time.  If I couldn’t find the time to write as way it was, why would I want to add another chunk of time onto writing something that I would end up throwing away?  It seemed silly.  But I tried it.

What I discovered is that a warm-up – whether for writing or anything else, doesn’t necessarily need to take a whole lot of time.  Five minutes is all that was recommended. Five minutes of sitting at my computer writing a stream of consciousness, letting my fingers dance across the keyboard without stopping, and without regard for spelling, punctuation or typos.  Five minutes of typing anything – even if it was “this is stupid, I don’t know why I am doing this.  I don’t even know what to write about.  I don’t think doing a warm-up is going to help anything.  I want ice cream.  Blah, blah, blah.”

The more that I typed, the more I began to express my fears and doubts.  I moved into my resistance and put it right out there on the paper in black and white.  I wrote about what was on my mind, what was weighing on me.  What I was afraid I would do.  And what I was afraid I wouldn’t do.  And I began to feel lighter, less encumbered, and more fluid as my doubts began to give way to something more interesting that was waiting to break through.

Five minutes.  The timer buzzed.  And then I proceeded to write an article.  I was amazed as what used to take hours came flying out in a matter of minutes.  I let it rip, deciding not to edit myself as I went along and giving myself permission to go back and polish things up later.  I put my judgment on hold and just did what I wanted and needed to do.  And it was wonderful.  I was enjoying the process again.  And when I did, the end result took care of itself.

Later I had lunch with another friend as I shared with him my latest discovery.  His kind brown eyes narrowed with intensity as he asked, “Why do we doubt ourselves?”

“Because we’re afraid we can’t do what we need to do.”  I answered.

“Do you doubt that you are sitting here in front of me?”  He replied.

“No,” I laughed.  “Of course not.”

“Why do you not doubt that?” he asked, unphased.

“Because I can see for myself that I am sitting in front of you.”  I shot back.

“Exactly!”  he said.  “You don’t doubt what you can see, hear  and feel with your own senses.”

And then I realized why a warm-up is so very powerful.  When we doubt ourselves, we begin to tell ourselves stories about how we can’t do anything all that well.  And then we believe those stories and become more firmly entrenched on our backsides.  We become stuck in inertia without indication that we can do anything but stay there.

But when we start moving in a direction – any direction – we begin to have even the smallest shred of evidence to contradict the doubt.  And once we start moving, we gain momentum that allows us to carry on. Even if we are moving in the wrong direction, that momentum gives us what we need to turn things around and go another way.

So I started doing writing warm ups in the morning before I begin doing anything, whether it is writing or anything else.   And I challenge you to do the same.  Think of it as a bit of stretching and some light calisthenics for the mind and the spirit.  Allow yourself a few minutes (even if it is just five) of not judging yourself – write whatever the hell you want.  You might be surprised at what comes out – and what letting it rip allows you to do that you may not have ever realized you had in you.

“As you start to walk out on the way, the way appears.”

– Rumi

 

Image courtesy of Danilo Rizzuti at FreeDigitalPhotos.net

 

How To Leverage Life’s Little Roadblocks

There is major construction underway at the end of my street on into the main road that leads in and out of our neighborhood.  It is blocking our normal traffic route to everything and has tripled the drive time to places I frequent every day, like my office, my kids’ school and the grocery store.  If I forget about the blockages on my way home, I have to double back to the alternate route and it takes even longer.   It’s throwing a huge monkey wrench in my daily routine and provoking an unbelievable amount of frustration and irritation.

I’m not the only one that has been twisted into a knot about it.  We live one house down from the construction, where orange and white barricades frame a giant “Road Closed” sign.  Every day I see angry people speeding to the end of our street, only to use our driveway to turn around.  I can almost hear the expletives flying out of their mouths.  Though I’m not a lip reader, I’m pretty sure they are some of the same words I’ve used upon encountering those barricades.

To make things worse, because of this construction our water has been turned off for hours at a time, and though there is warning from the city on when it is going to happen, I invariably forget until after I’ve rubbed a few squirts of liquid soap all over my hands and then realize I have nothing to rinse with.  My groans are drowned out by giant clangs, bangs and booms and the beeping of trucks that may as well be backing through our living room window.

But even at the height of my aggravation a part of me has become amused by the degree to which I’ve allowed myself to become frustrated, grouchy and resentful over something that just is what it is.  This calmer, wiser part of me knows that getting so incredibly irritated isn’t helping anything, least of all me.  And I’m certain that in that state, I’m not improving the quality of anyone else’s day either.

I even found myself calling the 24 hour information line one day when the signs and barricades were still up even though the road appeared to be temporarily unobstructed.  When the guy on the other end of the line answered, I knew by his tone that he had been inundated with calls just like mine.  Nonetheless, he was kind and understanding and did everything he could to keep me calm and provide as much information as possible on the project.  I realized this man was simply doing his job.  And that there was no good reason to take my frustration out on him.

How often do you experience roadblocks in your life?

It often seems just when we have things figured out and going the way we want them to, life throws us a curve that yanks us out of autopilot and requires us to find a new way of operating.  It’s so unsettling.  The old moves don’t work anymore.  Yet we haven’t quite become accustomed to the new way of doing things (or even found the way for that matter.)

We want things to happen the way WE want them to.  We like to be the ones to call the shots, and to have some level of predictability and routine.  I’ve often noticed that even people who claim to love change, don’t love it so much when they are not the ones initiating it.

But if moaning and groaning about it isn’t the answer, what is?  How can you navigate life’s little barricades and construction zones with more grace and less stress?  How do you redirect the energy that would have gone into complaining into something more constructive?

The answer came to me the other day in my karate class.  We were practicing sparring, which those of you who frequent my blog know I’ve had my challenges with (and learned quite a few lessons from).  Up to this point, sparring hasn’t been something I would choose to practice if given the option.  But it is an important part of the martial arts, because it allows students to begin to see how the basic techniques they’ve learned are actually applied.  It provides an opportunity to transcend mechanics and practice artfulness.  And it also sheds some light on how we can do the same in our everyday lives.

When you are in the middle of a sparring match, you can’t just stand there while fists and feet are flying at you.  And you can’t tell the person you’re sparring with to wait until you are ready or which arm or leg to throw their punch or kick with or where to aim it.  You can’t plan in advance how you will defend yourself because you just can’t anticipate what is about to happen in a way that would lend itself to planning.

You have to be in the moment.

You have to make the most of every opportunity.

And you have to get out of your head in order to know what to do next.

Once you do that, you begin to see openings and opportunities instead of obstacles and threats.  You find that you actually know more than you think you do, and a new awareness begins to emerge – one that allows you to think creatively and act with greater intent and impact.  You move more fluidly and learn to trust and rely on yourself.

I haven’t actually gotten to the point where I can consistently do all that just yet, but I know I will if I just keep practicing.  Which brings me back to the inconvenience of my little construction zone…  While I’m still not thrilled about the idea of being forced to travel new roads instead of relying on the ones that have always gotten me where I need to go, I have begun to appreciate that little inconveniences such as these also bring gifts.

They give us the very practice we need get out of our heads and learn to look at things in new ways, make new connections, and creatively find and act on opportunities in the midst of our challenges.  They also help us develop patience and exercise it in a way that allows us to remain calm and centered in the midst of chaos – and the next curve ball life will inevitably throw at us.

A Better Way to Win

My daughter and I played a game called Rummikub the other night.  If you have never heard of it, you’re not alone.  The games I remember playing as a kid are Monopoly, Life, and maybe an occasional card game of Go Fish or Gin Rummy.

Rummikub is kind of like Rummy, except instead of cards it is played with small wooden tiles that have colored numbers on them.  Players start with a few tiles of their own and then take turns going back and forth drawing more tiles until they have a certain sequence of numbers or colors that allows them to place groups of them on the table.  The first player to get rid of all his tiles wins.

We started playing this game a few months ago, and it has quickly become one of our favorites.  It’s simple, can still be played with missing pieces, doesn’t take hours to finish, and the cleanup is really not that bad (one of my favorite features).

I’m fairly certain whoever created the game intended it to be a competition that would have players carefully guarding their tiles to make sure no one else knows what they have.  But my eight year old daughter has decided that there is a different way to play it that is just as fun.

I noticed that she was peeking at my tiles quite a bit.  I resisted my conditioned urge to bring them closer and block her view.  Instead, I became curious about what she was doing.  She took note of the numbers that I had, of what tiles I needed to complete my sets, and also how my tiles would potentially fit with the incomplete sequences she had begun to build with her own tiles.

I figured she was doing this to get a leg up in the game.  Like me, my daughter likes to win.  And she likes to be in control too.  So I figured that any minute she would command me to give her what she wanted or tell me what move I should make in a way that would somehow benefit her.

But she didn’t.  Instead, she said “Mom, you need a black six and I need a red four.  Want to trade?”

“Sure.”  I replied, becoming more intrigued.

She continued to scan the table and both of our sets of tiles to see what else we could do to get more sequences laid down.  And I began to do the same thing.  Before long, we had pushed our sets of tiles side by side so that we could both easily see them and were fully collaborating in our efforts.

When my husband came home, she proudly announced that we were playing a friendly game of Rummikub – the kind where everyone wins.  She emphasized the word “friendly” and spoke it melodically as she smiled and bounced around.

I began to think about the deeper meaning of playing a friendly game and the implications it could have in a broader context, like the way we live our lives and the games we play every day.  We are all conditioned to play to win, and let’s face it – winning feels good.  But how often do we stop to think about  what winning really means?

We often assume that whenever there is a winner there is also a loser.  But what if it didn’t always have to be that way?  What if instead of looking for ways to outwit, outsmart, outthink and outdo the competition, we could ask ourselves in what way can we somehow partner with our would be competitors to find a way to allow everyone to win?

What if instead of viewing each other as competitors, we saw comrades with common goals that we could help one other with?  What if we took the time to realize that things could work out in a way that allows everyone to get what they need and to let go of what is no longer relevant?  In what ways could we learn from each other?  How could we pool our knowledge to become smarter about the game and what it takes to win – and maybe even reinvent it altogether?

“We think too small.  Like the frog at the bottom of the well.  He thinks the sky is only as big as the top of the well.  If he surfaced, he would have an entirely different view.”

-Mao Tse-Tung

Feel the Fear and Do It Anyway

Every day when I pull into my garage, my headlights illuminate a box of solar garden lanterns my father bought for me for Christmas a few years ago.  Every time I see them I am reminded that I need to set them up.  But something stops me.  I don’t know what it is, really.  Maybe I feel like I don’t have the time to do it.  Part of me is unsure exactly where to put them.  But I have to admit that I also worry it will be too complicated.  That I won’t be able to figure it out quickly.  That I’ll get bogged down with it.  And so these beautiful lights are still sitting in the box in our garage.

A couple of shelves over from the solar lights are bags of palm tree supplements and fertilizers.  I bought them a few months ago with the good intention of trying to give our trees an extra leg up in the scorching summer heat.  Every weekend, I see on my list of weekend projects, “fertilize palm trees”.  But the bags are still sitting on the shelf.  They are heavy and stinky.  And it’s hot outside.  Admittedly it is not at the top of my list of priorities.  But really, why have I let them sit for so long?  When I’m totally honest with myself, I realize it’s because I’m anxious about whether or not I’ll figure out the right ratios and the right way to spread the stuff around the dirt – whether I’ll have to dig or sprinkle, and then I just figure there’s something more pressing that needs to get done.

Silly, stupid stuff, right?  Maybe.  Maybe not.  The other day it hit me that these things I let sit in the garage may be indicative of a larger, more significant pattern in my life.  One that is keeping me stuck and jamming up my creative energy. You see, I haven’t written in a very long time.  I love to write.  It frees me.  It feeds me.  And yet I haven’t allowed myself to do it.  Why?

I got hung up in my head.  Silly decisions that I kept putting off.  Little complications that I allowed to fester and grow.  What to write about?  Should I do an article or a video?  Where should I post it, now that I have a couple of different websites and a column that I contribute to?  When should I write?  What if I can’t get it all done in the time I have?  What if I start and then I can’t finish?  I go around and around in my head until I become incredibly irritated with myself.

And then I go find something else to do.  Something safe.  Something clean and easy to check the box on.  And I have a few seconds of a very fleeting and artificial sense of accomplishment that slowly fades into a nagging, unsettling feeling.  Over the last few weeks, I’ve developed an irritating muscle cramp that has become so painful I am having trouble moving in certain ways.  Whether it is related or not, it is the perfect physical equivalent to what is going on in my mind.

And this morning it hit me.  The dynamic that keeps me from tackling the boxes and bags in the garage is the same dynamic that has blocked my writing.  I’m in fear.  And I’m doubting myself.  I’m worrying about all the things that could go wrong.  That could make things hard.  And I’m creating all kinds of distractions and complications to keep myself from doing what I really need to do most.  And it is becoming painful.

The last box that I let sit for months was a printer we got over the summer for my kids to use for their school projects.  I could tell you it sat in the box because they didn’t really need it until school started.  But the truth is, it stayed in the box because I didn’t want to deal with it.  In my mind it was a complicated endeavor that would have me confused and take hours of time.  After school started again, I realized I had to muscle up and get the darn thing plugged in.

I know some of you are probably laughing right now.  Really?  How hard can it be to set up a printer?  When I finally tore open the box and started following the directions I was laughing at myself too.  It really wasn’t that hard.  Until we flipped the switch and got an error message that the carriage was jammed before we ever even put paper in it.  I spent the next forty minutes talking to technical support and then finally boxing up the printer to send back to the manufacturer (I had waited too long to be able to just bring it back to the store.)

My fear was validated in the same way that it was validated the last time I tried to assemble a piece of furniture only to find that when I thought I was almost done I had to completely disassemble everything and put it back together again following instructions written in really bad English and accompanied by pictures that didn’t look anything like the parts I had.

This morning I realized it’s not that my fear isn’t justified.

It’s just that I can’t let it stop me.

I almost let this fear keep me from coaching my daughter’s volleyball team.  This is something I’ve wanted to do for a really long time.  But I hesitated because my daughter has never actually played volleyball and I have never coached any sport at all.  What if I couldn’t remember how the game goes, what the positions are, how the players rotate?  What if I let the girls (or their parents) down?  What if it becomes apparent that I haven’t the slightest idea what I’m doing?

I didn’t see it as a lucky thing at the time, but it turned out that the only way my daughter and her friends could be on the same team was if I became their coach.  So I did.  Reluctantly at first – and somewhat begrudgingly.  Then I realized that despite my reservations, it’s really a lot of fun.  And I don’t have to have all the answers.  Others are happy to help me fill in the gaps, tell me what I don’t know, give me ideas, and offer support.  And the look on the girls’ faces when they do something they couldn’t do before is priceless.  Thank God I didn’t let my silly doubts and fears keep me from this amazing experience.

Funny how little things like solar lanterns and palm tree fertilizer can provoke such powerful insights.  The irony that I am a coach who helps others get out of their fear and into their zones isn’t lost on me.   But I get it.  I understand why it’s so hard.  And I also know why it is so very important.  That’s why I wanted to share with you my own inner struggles – because we all have them.  The only thing that really matters is what we do about it.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some palm trees to fertilize.

Photo credit:  David Castillo Domenici, Free Digital Photos

Suddenly Simplified: Living Without Complication

After our kids finished school for the summer, we decided to take a last minute road trip to California.  It was late in the afternoon, and we needed to leave right away if we didn’t want to be driving into the wee hours of the morning.

I wasn’t packed and the house was a mess.  Previously, when we’ve taken road trips, I have meticulously prepared, spending an hour or two deciding what I would bring, and adding a few contingencies to allow for unpredictable weather or in case I didn’t like my outfit choices once I arrived.  Naturally almost every trip I’ve been on involved bringing way too many clothes, which ended up taking almost as much time to return to the closet when I came back as it did to put them in the suitcase in the first place.

In the past, I have also taken way too much time preparing for the drive itself — organizing bags of red licorice, dried fruit, nuts and chips; packing a cooler with water and sodas and sliced fruit; figuring out what music we might want to listen to, what movies the kids could watch, what devices would keep them occupied so they didn’t ask every five minutes if we were there yet.

I would think about all the things we’d need in the hotel to make our stay more enjoyable too – extra pillows, blankets, peanut butter and bread in case someone needed a snack between meals, and ground coffee for the coffee maker that is high on my list of favorite features in the kitchenette style suites we always stay at.  Oh, and of course coffee filters to brew it in.

I like to tidy up before we leave too, so that we come back to a nice, refreshingly clean house (which often takes hours in itself).

But this trip required spur of the moment action. It didn’t allow for any of my careful planning and deliberation over every little thing I could think of (which in the past has ended up pushing back our planned departure time by hours, much to my husband’s dismay.)

And this time, strangely I was up for it.  It was only a two day trip – how hard could it be?   I went into the closet with a little gym bag and picked a couple of t-shirts and a pair of shorts.  I grabbed something to sleep in and scooped my makeup and facial care products together.  It was the smallest bag I’ve ever packed.  Done!

I walked into the pantry with a plastic grocery bag and randomly threw things in it, not even sure exactly what landed, grabbed my coffee and some filters (because, really that’s an essential).  And we jumped in the car.

There were dishes in the sink and all over the counter, along with the contents of the backpacks of each of my children — who had dumped out everything they had accumulated over the entire school year as soon as soon as they came home.  The clothes we had washed the night before were in a pile on the rocking chair, waiting to be sorted and folded.  And each kid’s room looked like a bomb went off in it (as it often does).

“What about this mess?” I said to my husband as we headed toward the door, herding our three children toward the car.  “It’ll still be here when we come home,” he shot back.  I swallowed my resistance and slipped into the passenger seat as he turned the key in the ignition.

And before we knew it, we were backing out of the driveway and headed for the road.  It was so unlike me to be ready for anything on the spur of the moment, but it felt strangely exhilarating. I was free and unencumbered.  I had left my unnecessary baggage behind me.  And I was finally traveling light.

I wasn’t outfitted in the way I had tried so hard to be in the past, with stuff I thought would allow me to rise up to any occasion.  But my mind was ready. I felt nimble and quick, like I could think on my feet about what to do with anything that came my way.

And as we continued our six hour drive from Phoenix to San Diego, I mused over how often I had over thought and unnecessarily complicated so many other things in my life. How many times did I plan and prepare what I thought was a foolproof strategy and then wait until conditions seemed perfect to execute it, almost missing my window of opportunity altogether?  How much procrastinating have I done by convincing myself that I needed to prepare my workspace and get completely organized before I could concentrate and make headway on a task?  And how often did I find that the time I allocated to work on something ended up dwindling to nothing by the time I had finished preparing myself to start?

I suddenly recalled exercises I did in school that involved reading over a few paragraphs with way too much information and crossing out the sentences and words that were redundant.  And how beautifully those paragraphs read without all that unnecessary stuff.

Perhaps I am headed for a simplification of my very self, a lightening, and a back to basics way of living my life — one where I am unencumbered by my fear, my worries, my futile attempts to try to control every variable with a plan that takes way to long to figure out and even longer to execute (and often ends up missing the mark anyway).

So I applied this new way of approaching things to writing this article.  I sat myself down and noticed that familiar urge to get a snack, pour myself a glass of water, make sure I had replied to any pressing emails, go around in circles about what I want to write about.  Not this time, I decided.  Instead, I opened up a word document and started typing a stream of consciousness.  Random thoughts that made no sense whatsoever. I wrote about how I had no idea what to write about, how ridiculous it was to think I could sit down and just jump in.  And how I was kind of scared that once I finally figured it out, I wouldn’t do it justice.

I noticed my tendency to want to go back and read what I had already written, and perfect and edit it before I had even finished.  And I made myself just keep on writing.  Just get it done.  Just jump in the car.  Just grab what you need and figure the rest out along the way.

Eventually the article you are now reading spilled onto the page.  Pretty messy at first.  But I got it done.  I got out of my own freaking way, and I got it done.  And it felt good.  A whole new way of looking at things.  A whole new way of being.  Me, pared down, minus unnecessary fears, protests, layers of protection, feet dragging.  Me.  Right here, right now.

It felt a little strange – like writing with the wrong hand, or going outside with my clothes on backwards.  I’m aware of the fear that if I don’t spend hours preparing for something, I might forget an important detail or face a situation I’m not equipped for.  But I have a feeling that the more I do this, the more I’ll learn to trust something in myself that knows exactly what I need for any given task – without having to think about it all that much. And that would be worth more than anything my most careful, cautious planning and preparation has gotten me.

Maybe all I really need is my coffee.  (And perhaps one day, I’ll learn to function without that too.)

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Stay tuned for the launch of a new video series, On the Road to Real: The Adventures of Pistachio (coming in July via OnTheRoadtoReal.com), designed to help each of us move beyond the old habits and patterns that keep us from the road that leads to true happiness and lasting fulfillment.

Image:  www.freedigitalphotos.net