rita farin

Waiting for that total eclipse of the sun.

2010-04-16T14:53:00.002-04:00

Three total solar eclipse expeditions and 15 years. That’s what it took for Einstein to prove his general theory of relativity. Those total solar eclipses, the long six-minute ones that Einstein needed to photograph—occur rarely. Often many years apart. So one would think that the time it took to put together expeditions around these rare occurrences is what held Einstein up. But in reality, time is what actually helped him.

The first time Einstein approached the astronomy community to put together an expedition, they were not exactly excited about the idea. When he was finally able to get one person interested, the expedition to Russia “failed.” Not only did clouds make it impossible to photograph the solar eclipse, but World War I had broken out, and the Russians seized the equipment. Einstein later realized that, had the expedition succeeded in photographing the eclipse, his career would have been ruined. At the time of this first endeavor, his formula was wrong, and the photographs would have discredited his theory.

Einstein’s journey, aired on PBS in the form of a documentary, is yet one more reminder that when it comes to creativity or any type of change, our perception of time means very little. Like most people with dreams and goals, I continually struggle with this concept. Because our creative ideas often come in bunches, sometimes we don’t know which ones to work on first or how we’ll find the time to work on them at all. For someone as impatient as me, constant reminders that time is on my side are extremely necessary. Even though time and again, my creative projects have shown me that ideas have a life of their own. And if we let them, they will let us know when they’re ready to be born.

Two years ago, I realized a life-long dream to travel to Cuba and interview the artists there. When I returned from my trip, I wrote a lengthy, passionate essay about my findings. Then I hit a block. People who read the essay said things like, “This is an important piece. You need to get it out there.” But that just blocked me more. I wasn’t sure how to incorporate the feedback I was getting or even where to publish the essay. And it felt urgent to get the information out there as soon as I could before predicted changes in the country would make the piece obsolete. The essay sat in my drawer for close to two years.

At a Cuban art exhibit one day, the essay, which had been sleeping nicely inside of me, began to get feisty. As I moved through the exhibit with my friend, I explained the history of the arts in Cuba and the symbolism in some of the pieces. I could feel the passion rising in my body as I spoke. Once again, I was trying to reverse typical misperceptions about Cuba. My voice grew stronger, my heart beat faster, a surge of energy vibrated in every cell in my body. My essay would not be ignored any longer.

At the museum, I noticed that the exhibit was sponsored by the Center for Cuban Studies in New York. This gave me an idea. At home, I began Google-searching the words “Cuban studies” to try to find a home for my essay. I not only discovered the various centers for Cuban studies around the world, but found an international journal that focused on researched essays on Cuba. Newly motivated, I sat down, edited the piece to the 5,000 word limit (with the help of a friend), added the required citations and submitted it in January of 2010.

As we move towards our dreams, we all have our own solar eclipse expeditions—things that slow us down or even block us for periods of time. Sometimes to help us incubate ideas further. Other times because we ourselves are not ready. We may not have the tools, habits or mindsets we need to help us create, overcome our fears, channel our emotions or handle a new way of life. Because many of us don’t hear about the time and effort that it takes most creative endeavors to come to fruition, we form unrealistic expectations and place unnecessary pressure on ourselves to succeed immediately.

I no longer wish for more time to work on my creative projects. Or for success to arrive any faster, from its apparent wanderings. I simply wish for the mental clarity and the ability to remain grounded enough to keep working on my projects little bits at a time. Taking small steps steadily, consistently, tenaciously. This deliberate process of tiny progressions is what eventually takes us to that ultimate eclipse of the sun. When our lives are changed forever. At just the right time.

Einstein’s third and famous attempt to prove his theory attracted seven different expeditions from various countries. Much had occurred in Einstein’s career by then, transforming him from an unknown physicist to a well-respected scientist. And two years after my trip to Cuba, I found out that my essay will be published in July of this year. Maybe the time for my solar eclipse has come. Or perhaps this is just another step towards the sun.

Creepy crawlers and the world of should.

2009-12-15T16:36:00.001-05:00

An alternate world exists alongside the one of our desires. Alongside the world that serves our ultimate good and higher purpose, is the world of should. And there it stood in front of me. Behind me. And all around me. In the form of doctors and lawyers and judges and financial consultants. To a passerby, it may have appeared as if I was simply socializing at a bar. But I was at my 25th high school reunion where everyone had followed the path that I “should” have taken. If I wanted to live up to my family’s expectations and everyone else’s definition of success. The one I sort of took for a while. Marriage, children, lucrative career. In the midst of building my new life one step at a time, I must admit that the world of should sent me into a mental tail spin.

And the funny thing is that I watch it all the time. As my clients journey from one world to the next and then back again. They often start off in the world of should, quite convinced that what they should be doing is what they want to be doing. As we work together, they discover that they can create a different world if they open themselves up to new possibilities. If they let themselves look honestly at what isn’t working in their lives and become aware of their true dreams.

Sheila was a yoga teacher who was working at a spa giving massages. When I asked her, during our first session together, if she was happy with giving massages, she said yes. In our second session, Sheila realized that she really resented giving massages as well as her work at the spa. By session three, she not only decided to open up her own yoga studio and to reduce her massage practice significantly, but had found a space for her new business.

As I worked with Sheila on her marketing plan, it was clear when the creepy crawlers came marching back in. Creepy crawlers are messengers from the world of should, testing us, hoping they can take us back with them. The tone in my clients’ voices usually gives me a clue in knowing if they’re speaking their truth or are being taken to the creepy crawler party. All of sudden, they lose energy and their voices become somewhat constricted.

Sheila and I were brainstorming on marketing ideas. She mentioned one that just didn’t seem quite right: offering yoga classes to children. Suggested by a friend, the idea was a throwback to something Sheila should have enjoyed based on her elementary education background. But when I questioned her about it, it neither met with her mission for her business nor excited her. When she started talking about creating community activities in her studio, Sheila’s voice and energy levels went back up. She dropped the children’s class idea.

The creepy crawlers come to visit me all the time. I should get some corporate clients. I should do more workshops. I should forget about my dreams and, like that bar-full of high school acquaintances, go get a high-paying job. But I know that if I greet the creepy crawlers and then let them go on their way, other possibilities will come in to surprise me as they always do. Possibilities that are in line with my intuition and dreams and are right for me at the moment. The key is to keep following our intuition. Trust it even when there is no evidence that it’s the right direction except that feeling in our fingers, stomachs and toes. The universe eventually delivers signposts along the way.

So when you start doubting yourself (as we all do), make sure you have some reminders and supporters you can turn to. A mission statement, an affirmation, someone who truly understands what you’re doing. Constant reminders give us the strength to show those creepy crawlers to the door and turn our backs to the world of should. There’s just no place for them in the life we’re meant to live.

Questions that help bar the creepy crawlers from coming in and throwing a party:

Is your idea in line with your mission or your new life?
Will it attract your perfect customer? Will it help you create the new life you want?
Does it excite you or is it something you think you should or need to do?

Washing away your dust. An interview with Laura Wellem, displaced employee turned mixed media artist.

2009-08-19T22:08:00.029-04:00

I met Laura Wellem at the Avondale Estates Art Fair in Atlanta earlier this year. Vibrant images of trees and figures on canvases and furniture drew me and my friend into her booth. Taking a closer look, we realized that Laura cleverly incorporated magazine cut-outs to create her multi-dimensional designs. Laura’s art is not only intriguing, but she also has a beautiful story to tell. After being laid off, Laura “washed away the dust of everyday life” and let her interest in art guide her towards a completely new journey. And her “why not” attitude has brought her to surprising places beyond what she could have ever imagined for herself. But I’ll let her tell you the rest…

What is your professional background and what led you to this art form? Where did you find the inspiration?

For 20 years, I worked for a television rep firm that sold advertising time for national television stations. Day after day, I crunched numbers on my computer in a windowless office, and although I was grateful to be employed, I knew that I longed for more. To bring some life to my corporate environment, I painted and hung a colorful canvas with an Anais Nin quote, “Then the time came when the risk it took to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.” The day before I was laid off, I read that quote while talking on the phone and said to my sister, “I just can’t do this another 20 years.” In less than 24 hours, my life changed.

My job was very left-brain oriented, so when I was laid off I used the opportunity to explore my right brain. I began painting with acrylics but wanted to add another dimension. I’ve always admired mixed media, quilting, mosaic and collage in other artists’ work and wanted to experiment with color and texture. Since magazines are colorful and plentiful, I used them for the tree canopies and cut them into circles for a contemporary look. When I was a girl, my friends and I would cut out images from magazines and glue them on a poster board. In retrospect, my work is an extension of that.

Did you always consider yourself creative? Were you an artistic child?

I enjoyed art in elementary school, but I wouldn’t say that I was a “natural.” I took art classes in high school more from a desire to be artistic rather than any realization that I was creative already. My high school art teacher opened up my perception of what being an artist means. I always felt that because I wasn’t able to paint a traditional landscape or portrait, that I wasn’t a “real” artist. My teacher told me that not every canvas has to look like a photograph; that’s what photography is for. That was very liberating for me. Over the years, I’ve painted on anything and everything—clothing, furniture, canvas and even people—yet it wasn’t until this past year that I truly embraced the fact that I am an artist.

I often say that if you take small steps towards your dreams and creative passions, you never know where they’ll take you—many times you end up in places more wonderful than you could have ever imagined. You’re a great example of this. Tell me about some of the things that happened for you.

I began making art for myself, then eventually for friends and family. They were the ones who encouraged me to try and sell my work. I had always enjoyed going to art festivals, but I decided to try a few smaller markets to see if anyone was even interested in what I was doing. Whenever an event came up, I’d participate with the attitude, “Why not? Ya’ never know what could come from it.” I never said to myself, “My goal is to be in a gallery…I want to win an award…” My creative journey has taken me places I never thought I’d go. In the year since I was laid off, I’ve appeared on Good Day Atlanta, became a published artist by designing a book cover, showed in an art gallery, received a commission for the Decorators Showhouse for the Cure, was featured in the North DeKalb Neighbor newspaper and won a Third Place Award (and check!) at the Downtown Atlanta Festival. When I began, I had no idea these things were even possible. It makes me excited to find out what next year’s gonna bring.

Could you tell me a little about your creative process?

It takes several steps before I even get to the canvas, and I usually work on several at once. I spend hours pulling pages from magazines and days making circles. I create organically, so although I may be inspired initially by a color or an image, as I continue to work sometimes a piece will end up with a theme that was never originally intended. I just let it go, free flowing. Some of my most creative ideas have evolved from covering up a portion (or in some cases, an entire canvas) that I didn’t like. That’s the beauty of art: they aren’t “mistakes,” just part of the creative process. Once I begin a canvas, I have a tendency to become so focused that I’ll stay up all night or until I’m physically exhausted. For that reason, I also have several days when I need some down time. Besides, in addition to creating original art, I also have to research events and submit applications, advertise, market, promote, photograph my work, as well as sell and ship it. I am also the web designer, motivator, muse and roadie too!

Your artwork is green in nature. How did you become an eco-friendly artist and begin involving your community in your art?

Even though I've always loved creating things (not just art, but storage and furniture too) out of whatever I’ve had on hand, I didn't start out to be an eco-friendly artist. Now, I'm constantly looking for new ways to incorporate recycling into my pieces. I’ve often said that if necessity is the mother of invention, then being a single parent is the mother of creativity. No money for art supplies? I just look in my closets, junk drawers, storage room, garage and recycling bins to see what I can use. I have always had a gift for looking at something ordinary and seeing the possibility for something extraordinary. Also, many of my neighbors are senior citizens, and they were more than happy to pass along their magazines for two reasons: 1) they are sweet and supportive of me as an artist, 2) it also significantly lightens their recycling bin load! They’re not only saving the environment and supporting the arts, they’re also helping an unemployed, single mom too…good karma!

Right now, so many people are paralyzed by fear of being laid off and of what comes after. You turned your experience into an opportunity to focus on your creative side. What did you do or say to yourself to get yourself to work on your projects without getting blocked or scared?

Who says I never get blocked…or scared? My fears come from being so overwhelmed by all the ideas I have swirling around in my mind, that I just don’t have enough energy, time or talent to bring them all to life. I have to stop and listen to my heart and birth whichever project is going to bring me the most joy, instead of trying to make the most money. The first time I truly revealed myself in my art, I was afraid that no one would purchase, relate or even care what I had to say. That first “outing” was at the Fourth Friday Art Stroll in Castleberry Hill, which is a community rich with an eclectic array of artists. It was a very successful event for me, both artistically and financially. I was grateful that I allowed myself to take that leap of faith. I think that many artists live in fear. At some point, it’s part of the process, but we also live in hope, in possibility. Whenever I’m blocked artistically I listen to music, read and reconnect with family and friends…living my life is what inspires me most. Eventually, the creativity starts flowing again.

You’ve described some very typical blocks that arise during the creative process and wonderful ways to overcome them. Do you have any advice to those out there who are facing layoffs, in the midst of a major life change or who don’t think they’re creative in any way?

I’d never have had the time, energy or inspiration to do all I’ve done this past year if I were still sitting behind that desk. It has definitely been challenging, but it’s also been intoxicating and rewarding. I’m still looking for the stability that a traditional job offers; only this time I hope to find it in a creative environment.

My journey has been filled with many successes, but also a few failures, yet I keep participating. I think that’s key: keep going, don’t give up. I surround myself with inspiring people, images, art, words, quotes, books, music. I’m basically a positive person and my art reflects that. Oh I have been rejected, or “not invited” as they like to say, to as many arts festivals as I’ve been accepted to. I don’t take it personally. Either I’ll get in eventually or I won’t. There are always other festivals. They can always say no, but they’ll never say yes if I don’t apply. One of my favorite songs is by Pete Belasco, “Keep on, keepin’ on…,” and that’s what I’ve been doing.

Many people think they aren’t creative because they can’t draw, but that doesn’t define whether you’re an artist or not. You can express your creativity by the way you tell a story, write your blog, wear your hair and clothes, decorate your home, prepare meals, set your table, work in your garden, wrap packages, write an email or even by what you post on your MySpace and Facebook pages. Pablo Picasso said, “Art washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life.” If it isn’t art, then find whatever it is that washes away your dust.

Great advice Laura! Thanks so much for sharing your story and your wisdom!

When broken shutters, hives and heartache lead the way to grace.

2009-07-16T18:06:00.017-04:00

My camera reminded me.

I was on Cape Cod, sitting on the beach, trying to ignore a severe allergic rash that came out of nowhere, on the heels of my slow recovery from the lethal MRSA infection. On the heels of the final breakup of my two-year relationship. No, it was not a good month for me.

Little red bumps covered my chest, legs and arms. My feet, lips and ears were swollen beyond recognition. To keep my mind off of the pain and itchiness in my body, I decided to pick up my camera and take some pictures. After years of bringing my camera on various travels and leaving it in my suitcase because I couldn’t be bothered (it distracted me from the present moment, and I took bad pictures to boot!), a photographer friend had encouraged me so much that I now look forward to capturing what I see. Thank you, Friend.

I took out my camera, turned it on and looked at the digital display. Instead of the flowers I had been looking at, I saw a partial image—diagonal black lines framing the shot. I turned the camera around and looked at the lens. The shutter was half open. Great, I thought. Now this?!

I tried turning the camera off. Turning it back on. Off. On. The shutter would only open halfway. I was bummed. I knew I needed a new camera, but I wasn’t ready to make an investment at that point in time. Plus, there wasn’t much I could do about it on the beach. I felt irritability very clearly turning into irritation. I sat on the sand, pouting, while my friend lay down and went to sleep.

With no one to talk to and nothing to do, I turned the camera on again. And then I remembered. So what if the shutter doesn’t open all the way? You can still take pictures. Actually, this is kind of cool. My creative voice had returned. I started taking pictures, enjoying the new angle imposed by the half-closed shutter. Framing the shots in a way that would fit nicely inside a diagonal shape. What could I see? What couldn’t I see? It was fascinating.

After a few minutes of taking pictures, the shutter opened all the way on its own. And I was back to playing with the full picture. But now things were different. My world had shifted. I felt like I could take more chances. I lay down on the sand to shoot the beach scenery from a different perspective. The sand itself presented a cool-looking crab leg, some grass, a perfect red goldfish cracker—all for me to shoot.

When things change unexpectedly, we ask ourselves how can we go on? Quite simply. By going on. Maybe shifting direction a bit. Gently. Doing the best we can. In the midst of my Benadryl haze, I had forgotten momentarily. That from a halfway open shutter, light still shines in. Once we stop reacting to change and sit quietly with all of our broken shutters, hives and heartache, new opportunities reveal themselves to us. We realize that this very moment is exactly as it should be in all of its imperfection. Giving us the opportunity to experience life from a different angle.

In appreciating what we are able to see, create and capture from this different place, things right themselves along the way. Not only do they right themselves, but our world becomes richer, more beautiful. As we travel through times of deep imperfection, we gain confidence, become more courageous and daring in the process. Because we’ll always remember that once our world seemed to close in on us, and we were still able to move ahead and create something amazing. And as we did so, the world opened up and gifted us with grace.

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When I returned from Cape Cod, I started working on a project with an organization that helps youth deal with grief and loss. And as if preparing me for this important work, the universe seemed to direct me to two films on this subject: an amazing Japanese film called Departures and a subtle Italian film called Quiet Chaos. In these films, the protagonists respond to unexpected loss by making their own changes and patiently experiencing the discomfort of it all. In so doing, they let their new lives unfold before them and lead them to unforeseen beauty, love and grace.

Bunny ears are calling.

2009-05-12T17:48:00.001-04:00

About a month ago, I received an email from an elementary school classmate who miraculously remembered me from the days when I was a real blonde. And it prompted me to go back to my old photo albums. There I was sitting among a bunch of fellow second-graders wearing paper bunny ears on their heads. I, on the other hand, had been assigned a violet-colored paper bonnet that perfectly matched my skirt outfit. It was as if my teachers knew better than to give me anything remotely silly. But I still looked concerned, scrunching my eyebrows together. I was an intense child. An adult captured in a child’s body. And only as I grew older did I begin the journey to find the child who, today, lives in a woman’s body. Who is now no more than a moment away on any given day. But too many of us forget about that child once we’re grown. And some interesting things happen when we do.

I knew I’d met my match when I met my client Max. Max had been conceptualizing a book for the past six years but, according to him, he just couldn’t start writing. We had met by mere coincidence working together on another project, and when he found out that I was a creativity coach, he took it as a sign to get started. He was excited and grateful to share his idea with someone for the first time and to begin taking himself more seriously. At 40 years old, Max had decided it was time to grow up and begin pursuing all of his goals. “The fact that I've decided to take this book seriously makes me feel ‘mature,'" he wrote to me after our first session together.

For the first two weeks, Max and I worked on breaking down his projects into tiny steps and building up his creative confidence and understanding around the writing process. But during our third session together, Max realized the major cause of his resistance. “I’ve been thinking of this book as an adult project,” he told me. “The more serious I make it, the more blocked I’m getting.” I had noticed during our sessions that Max used the word “seriously” very often and was putting a lot of pressure on himself to grow up. All of sudden, he realized that the words he’d been using were not his own. They were the voices of his parents. Max loves Lego and roller-coasters and looks at the world with a child’s sense of curiosity—spending hours researching various details for his book and jotting down notes using different colored pens. “I’m not them,” he acknowledged, “I actually love kid stuff.” That day, we extended our session. And Max began to write.

In reality, Max had started the writing process six years ago—thinking, researching and writing notebooks-full of ideas. But Max didn’t give himself credit for any of this work. And the minute he began dictating to himself that it was time to get serious, the act of writing became overwhelming. His child-self rebelled, stomped his foot and said no. Max now realized that it was actually ok to be a kid. And that he had the ability to be a gentler parent to himself moving forward.

During our last session, Max began to feel a little more comfortable in his child’s skin. He had embarked on a process of shifting his thinking. “I’m a 40 year old child. I’m actually a kid performing an adult action,” he said. Max had finally found his own voice and given himself permission to have fun. A week after that final session, I received an email from him: “Whoo hoo....I started writing my book yesterday at 3:50 am and I'm LOVING IT!!!” And I completely understood his exhilaration. The pure joy of play.

Being a child is an important part of letting our creativity flow out of us, as well as living with more joy. But there are two parts of being a child: the creative, fun-loving quality and the rebellious one. And it’s important to know which is coming up for us on any given day. We can learn to nurture the creative child by making our projects as fun as possible. Using crayons to write, making a mess on canvas, celebrating those little glitches that look like mistakes. And just like parents praising their children’s creations, we must also take the time to acknowledge all that our child has done, at whatever stage he or she is in any project. Other times, when we feel resistance come up, we may need to indulge the rebellious child just for a little while. A few minutes of good feet stomping or TV watching is sometimes enough to get her to come out and play again.

The older I get and the more I work on creative projects, the more connected I become with my own childlike spirit. It’s as if I’m aging backwards. And I feel fortunate for that. To learn to play, especially as adults, is a gift we all need to grant ourselves. Every day if possible. While I was once serious during playful activities, today I make it a point to add an element of play to my most grown-up tasks. I wear a toy tiara on my head when I file or pay bills. I keep a pack of crayons in my backpack. And if someone were to offer me the chance to wear some bunny ears, I’d definitely jump at the opportunity.

Trust me...there's pollen on your wings!

2009-04-13T19:55:00.011-04:00

“Do you think they know?” I asked.

“Know what?”

“That they carry pollen on their wings?”

My friend and I were walking around Callaway Gardens, on the Rhododendron Trail with no rhododendrons blooming as of yet. We had just walked out of the butterfly conservatory where 1,000 tropical butterflies fly around freely among cool-looking plants and waterfalls. I had just learned how the butterfly carries pollen on its wings, how it plays a crucial role in propagating life in the plant kingdom. And it reminded me of the great impact each of us makes in this world—often unbeknownst to us—by simply being, merely breathing, flying about our own day-to-day business. I wondered how many of us, during these difficult times of unemployment and cutbacks, are actually celebrating the innate value of living. And how many of us are berating ourselves for not being more productive, more successful, more, more, more something.

A colleague of mine told me about one of her clients who had lost his job after working his entire life—40 years—in a corporation. His retirement funds are so depleted that he can’t be a source of financial support to his children anymore. His whole sense of self is now in question. He’s not sure how to relate to his children.

In no other country in the world is our sense of self-worth so tied to the workplace and our ability to generate revenue as it is in the US. So it’s only natural that a change of such great magnitude would make any of us question who we are and what value we contribute. But it’s precisely at times like these that we must remember the butterfly.

In his book Reflections, Henry Miller writes, “The birth of the butterfly is one of the most mysterious and miraculous things in biology…He lived a useful and productive life, the life of a worm. And he had to die a worm in order to be born an angel.”

Many of us are shedding our visibly productive lives right now, and we may not be sure where we’re headed, what it all means. It feels unbearably uncomfortable at times as we try to reinvent who we are. Our progress seems slow, as we build new businesses or look for new jobs or just sit and ponder what to do next. But if we consider this period in our lives as time spent in a chrysalis, our perspective changes. It becomes a time of quiet introspection—learning to value ourselves by looking deep within, to connect with others as our true selves, to find meaning in everyday acts. Instead of filling with anxiety and fear, we can look at this period of time as an unbelievable opportunity for growth, preparing us for the next stage in our lives—one that’s fuller and more meaningful.

In the great transformation that occurs, we begin to take flight. It may take a while for us to learn to use our new wings and bopping from flower to flower may seem meaningless and even frustrating at first. As we look inward to learn who we’ve become in the process, we’ll see that our lives were never about the money, that the work we did before wasn’t that important, but that following the joy in our souls every day always leads us to where we need to be. And one day, we may actually see the pollen falling from our wings—our greater life purpose revealed to us. It was there all along.

Photography by Esse Photo

Priceless wisdom from a box of turnovers and a $60 outfit.

2009-03-30T15:26:00.003-04:00

On Sunday, I was standing in the checkout line at Trader Joe’s when the cashier asked the guy in front of me if he had been doing something fun that day. “Yes!” the man smiled widely. As it turns out, he was a statistician who had been researching whether good mental health made us live longer or if it was the other way around. “I just proved that it’s both. Good mental health does make us live longer, but physical fitness causes good mental health as well.” Then, Cashier John started giving me party tips, confirming that the mushroom turnovers I had chosen were indeed fabulous and explaining the best way to make Caprese salad.

Lately, all I hear from the people around me is, “I don’t have the time to… I don’t have the money to…” My colleague, who owns an agency and loves body building and works out religiously, told me last week that she’s at the office longer than ever and has cut her workout time significantly. A friend who’s starting a new business is working 12-hour days and doesn’t have the time to meditate or do Qi Gong any more. Another friend cut her yoga classes out altogether. The list goes on forever. And even I find myself trying to work longer hours when I know that often longer doesn’t bring better or more results. Even though I’ve learned this lesson over and over again, I seem to constantly forget it in the midst of the desperation I feel all around me these days.

Last year, I cut my income by more than 75% to pursue my own creative projects. And for a time, I cut it by 100%. There were many fearful, overwhelming days for me, especially since I wasn’t entirely sure what projects I was going to do or where they would take me. On a very weepy day, my friend called me and asked if I would go shopping with her. Could I afford another non-productive day? I asked myself. Since my mood was so low, it was probably going to be difficult for me to stay focused on any one project anyway and I could really use some good company. So off I went to my new favorite store, Old Navy. I had given up shopping at Ann Taylor and Nordstroms the year before. I spent the day and $60 to buy a pair of pants and three tops. And enjoyed lunch with a great friend and colleague. The next day: priceless. I woke up, put on my new outfit and felt rejuvenated. I was ready to tackle my life and my projects once again.

During these mentally and financially challenging times, the “I have no time or money” attitude is probably the worst mindset we can take on. It’s as if we’ve constricted ourselves, focused only on productivity, straining for new business and job leads and forgotten about some of the basic ways to instill a sense of balanced well-being. The results of this forced cut-back mentality are depression, self-doubt and frustration. Does the money come in any faster? No. On the contrary. That’s why it’s so important, during times like these, to actively work on shifting our mindset from deprivation and desperation to patience and playful perseverance. Besides extending our life span, acting compassionately towards ourselves enables us to achieve whatever we want in the easiest, fastest way possible. It’s a learning process, but here are some ways that help cultivate this new attitude.

Tell yourself you have time. On the days I remember to tell myself I have all the time I need, the hours seem to extend on and on. The act of telling ourselves that we don’t have time automatically makes it so. It puts us in a state of fear, creating unnecessary agitation and lack of focus. Our best work does not come from here. If you can actually forget about time and let yourself relax and enjoy the process, your work will flow more easily, you’ll feel like you’ve accomplished a great deal and you may actually have time to do the other things you love.

Tell yourself that financial abundance is on its way. Acknowledge whatever opportunities are coming your way, even if they’re not generating revenue yet. New leads and interest in your work are confirmation that you’re on the right path. Expressing gratitude for these prospects increases their frequency and makes them realize more quickly.

Learn that projects and events have their own timing. No matter how much you try sometimes, there comes a point when you have to wait for the things you want to happen on their own. When a project doesn’t progress the way you expected it to, do the best you can and then let go. And trust that it will be completed in the right time. Focus on doing something else you love for a while and see what transpires. Working persistently and calmly in a new direction reduces fear, unblocks your creative energy and opens the space for desired events to evolve in their own time. There’s always a reason, a better time, a better way for those things to happen for you.

Create resentment, gratitude and credit lists regularly. I use a combination of these lists—adopted from the Kaizen-Muse coaching program—with myself and my clients to create a shift in thinking. A resentment list entails writing down everything that’s bothering you in the form of “I resent…, I resent…” Writing down the negative gets it out of your body and mind and creates space for better things to come. I personally tear and burn mine. Once you’ve released your resentments, sit down and write a list of things you’re grateful for. You can even include things that haven’t happened yet. Moving from resentment to gratitude is a powerful exercise. By the time I’m done, I feel more optimistic and motivated. You can also create lists of things you give yourself credit for so you can see how much you’re really doing in your life—including work-related and personal actions and thoughts. You can update these lists daily or weekly or whenever you feel you’ve lost the sense of forward motion. This exercise increases confidence, patience and perseverance.

Keep taking good care of yourself. Cutting back during these times is understandable and necessary for most of us. But make sure you don’t eliminate the things you really need. Making ourselves feel deprived affects our mental attitude negatively. If you need new shoes because your back starts to hurt, go get them. And if you need to talk to someone other than friends and family, explore coaching and counseling services. Many coaches and counselors offer affordable or sliding scale fees.

Make yourself feel special on a regular basis. Sometimes we think that if we’re not earning money, we don’t deserve to treat ourselves. But if you follow poet Anne Sexton’s advice to “love your self’s self wherever it lives,” you’ll begin to value and honor yourself no matter what your circumstance is. And your self requires and deserves good treatment in order to do all that you expect from it. Remember that pampering yourself doesn’t have to cost money. Do little things that make you feel good and special. Buy yourself one flower. Make yourself a cup of your favorite tea. Spend time with a good friend. And if you can afford it, get an occasional massage or pedicure.

Engage in physical, mind-body types of exercise. Physical movement helps us clear our thinking, analytical minds and moves us into our intuitive, creative sides. Because I generate so many ideas during my morning walks, I now consider them part of my workday. Eastern modalities like yoga, Qi Gong and Tai Chi use physical movement to calm the mind. And meditation, Reiki, and breathing techniques further complement these physical practices. Taking a few minutes to engage in physical and mind-body exercises regularly will help relieve stress, get you more in tune with your true self, tap into your creativity and let you work more effectively.

Play creatively and like a child. Express yourself through painting, writing, cooking or any other creative activity that calls to you. If you let yourself play without thinking, you’ll be surprised what you might see on your canvas or computer screen. Creative activities provide a great release and connect you to a deeper part of yourself. And if you let yourself engage in child’s play, coloring or hula-hooping for instance, you’ll find a sense of renewed joy you may have thought you lost in your adult life. Five to fifteen minutes at a time is all you need.

Taking care of your mental and physical well-being during these times is priceless. Whether that means working out, doing some yoga or spending a few dollars to pamper yourself, do it. Not necessarily every day, but your body and mind will tell you when you need it most. Listen to them. Put everything else aside, and do what you tell yourself. Your mental, physical and emotional selves have a lot of wisdom. And if you don’t believe them, believe the university statistician who will soon be publishing his data: good mental health and good physical health will make you live longer. So go ahead, go to Trader Joe’s, spend a couple of bucks on the mushroom turnovers, split them with a good friend. And get ready for a long life!

Butterfly wings and wood nymphs…hello FREEDOM!

2009-03-18T09:54:00.004-04:00

Years ago, when I was leaving a full-time corporate job for the second time in my life to pursue unknown endeavors, a colleague gave me an inspiration stone with the word FREEDOM engraved on it. Even though I thought I knew what it meant at the time, today I have developed a very intimate relationship with the word.

As I coach myself and others through transition, I’ve learned that the most important part of change goes on in the mind. How we see ourselves and what we believe affects everything. I’ve noticed that most of us don’t have a great opinion of who we are and have little faith in turning things around. That’s ok. Because there are many tools to remedy this malady. And one of the best ones is the use of visuals. Guided imagery, vision boards, visualization exercises, expressive painting. While I practice all of these methods, I’ve discovered yet another transformative visual tool that’s worked wonders for me through my own personal evolution. Engaging with a camera.

I was blessed with a boyfriend who is a talented photographer and Photoshop expert. Before I met him, I had never loved being in front of a camera. In fact, I had trouble smiling, and I still hate the first picture he ever took of me—my smile looks forced and I look a little annoyed (which I’m pretty sure I was). But Jim kept taking pictures. And all of a sudden, I was able to let loose. At the Botanical Gardens in Atlanta, I was suddenly a butterfly. In the woods of Dahlonega, I became a wood nymph. And for my birthday, Jim gave me a DVD of pictures of me set to music. Some he had taken, some were from before we met. I cried when I saw it. He had captured me, my true essence, and given it to me as a gift.

The name of the piano piece he used as background music was Stanton Lanier’s Freedom. And I looked free, completely full of love and free. Many people in my life were under the impression that I had always been free—that I did what I wanted when I wanted, had no fears at all. But I knew better. I knew what my real fears were and they were real. I was terrified of pursuing my true passions for fear of becoming penniless, homeless and, worst of all, dependent on others. But seeing those pictures of me were amazing. I could see who I was, who I wanted to be and who I could be.

Practicing some type of visualization helps us change our perceptions of what is, gives us a better understanding of ourselves and can transform self-doubt into self-confidence. “We believe what we see,” my expressive art teacher used to tell her students. But more than that, if we actively engage with the visual, then it becomes even more powerful—a form of mind sculpting.

Try whatever visual method works best for you. Create a vision board of the life you’ve always wanted (there are many cool ways to create vision boards these days) or take 30 seconds to visualize yourself being who you want to be. But if you’d like to try engaging with a camera and are afraid, here are some ideas that might work for you…

Play with striking different poses when you’re alone. Pretend you’re different characters and feel the difference between them and you.
When you feel comfortable with that, do them in front of the mirror.
If you don’t feel comfortable having a friend take pictures of you, practice playing with your camera’s self-timer. Remember no one ever has to see these photos but you.
If you feel more courageous, create a DVD of photos of yourself or consider having a vision photo made.

Whatever you choose to do, remember to capture the essence of what you desire for yourself. Is it freedom, self-confidence, a life full of wonder? Chances are you already have some of this already in your life, and it might be living right inside of you. You just may not be able to see it. Bringing it out into your visual consciousness will make it easier to see, grasp and believe it is possible.

Today, I don’t feel like I need someone else to show me my own inner beauty (although I will purr happily if I receive a great compliment). But I still have days full of doubts, when I feel fear creeping in to settle in on its old stomping grounds. On those days, I look at the picture of the wood nymph hanging on my wall. I see her looking straight at the camera with complete confidence, free of any worry or concern. I dare you, she seems to say to FEAR. And I remember she lives inside of me. That I can find her and let her out whenever I want to. That her strength and courage is who I’ve always been. And continue to be. FREEDOM at last!

Different types of visual tools:

Vision board – typically collages that depict your dreams. Some people use 4x6 index cards for mini boards that show one theme each, so they can carry them with them as visual reminders. Contact me if you’d like to join a vision boarding group. I’d be happy to lead one.
Mind movies – pre-made movies you can download with different inspirational messages: http://www.mindmovies.com/DownloadPreMades.html
Altars – a physical space that depicts your wishes, desires and prayers. Check out Emiella Kaufman’s altars http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=103254&id=631655469&l=42f09
Expressive painting – intuitive painting technique that sometimes includes dialoguing with and embodying elements of your work. Aviva Gold wrote Painting from the Source and holds many workshops and trainings: http://paintingfromthesource.com/
Mind sculpting – a type of guided imagery that involves all of the senses (often used by professional athletes). Dr. Robert Mauer’s book, One Small Step Can Change Your Life describes mind sculpting really well.
Custom inspirational DVDs and vision photos – compilation of photos of yourself set to music or a photo of yourself photoshopped into a setting that depicts your true essence. Check out Jim Sichinolfi’s work: http://www.essephoto.com/
Guided imagery – Sanaya Roman has great guided imageries in her book Spiritual Growth. She also has a number of audio meditations you can purchase on her website: http://www.orindaben.com/. Jill Badonsky also sells a guided imagery CD: http://www.themuseisin.com/muse_store.html

Hop, skip and jump through change. My interview with Jill Badonsky, author of Awe-Manac.

2009-02-26T09:57:00.013-05:00

I had been searching for a coaching training program for a long time when I came across Jill Badonsky’s website. I was in the midst of my own major life transition, dropping my MFA program after leaving my marketing career behind. Now what? I had always wanted to coach others. But I needed to learn to coach myself first. When I spoke to Jill over the phone, I knew she understood exactly what we all go through when we’re trying to make any type of change—even if it’s writing that great children’s book that’s been living inside of you since you were six. You want to do it, but somehow you end up watching Project Runway instead.

I signed up for Jill’s Kaizen-Muse Creativity Coaching program and learned to overcome the overwhelming feelings that kept blocking me. Just like me, Jill is a corporate drop-out, and she’s now a successful author, coach and artist. During my training, I got to read her first book, The Nine Modern Day Muses (and a Bodyguard). Now she’s just completed her second—The Awe-Manac, A Daily Dose of Wonder. And she’s taken the time to answer some of my questions about it. Both of Jill’s books are fun, inspiring and give us simple tools that help us adopt more nurturing, compassionate and playful ways to handle whatever we’re facing—because that’s really the only way to keep hopping excitedly through change, make the jump over to the other side and continue skipping happily along.

Interview with Jill

Rita: One of my favorite quotes in your book is by Mark Twain: “Now and then we had a hope that if we lived and were good, God would permit us to be pirates.” So many of us don’t allow ourselves to play and, all of a sudden, our creative projects, and life itself, become way too serious. Did you always find it easy to connect with your child self and if not, what was that process like for you and how did it affect your creativity?

Jill: That's one of my favorite quotes too!
Playing has always been easy for me as a result of a screwed up childhood where my parents forgot I was there so I just decided to vanish into a world of my own making. I just recently came out of it with a harsh awakening at age 49 but by then the whole style of play, fun, and not getting too serious about ANYTHING was already installed. I have to thank my talented and negligent parents for this gift. It has served me in many ways namely my life is fun most of the time despite what's happening around me… except for those occasional inconvenient things like grieving, taxes, and keeping track of my keys.

I needed to make both of my books fun in order for me to write them. All my programs, services and publications have an element of humor which I believe contributes to their effectiveness.

I included a tool called KidStuff in the Kaizen-Muse creativity coaching curriculum I teach… which you just became certified in, because it's so important to our success in the creative process.

Rita: The Awe-Manac is so playful and fun, yet so powerful in its undertaking. By encouraging us to celebrate the things we’re not normally conditioned to celebrate, it helps us shift our thinking from those negative voices we all hear to gratitude, creativity, lightness and laughter. What inspired you to write this book?

Jill: Thank you! I was inspired by having the need to shift my thinking from the negative voices we all hear to gratitude, creativity, lightness and laughter … I wrote the book for myself as I slipped into a rough time in my life, knowing that I'm not so special that what would help me wouldn't help others as well.

Plus it was a hell of a lot of fun doing the research, inventing the potions, creating illustrations and basing it on a take-off of The Farmer's Almanac. It became a festive game of filling in the blanks once I had the structure.

Rita: How do you think the Awe-Manac can help people who are going through life transition or change?

Jill: Life transition and change are times of overwhelm where we can easily lose sight of the joy there is in small moments because we are caught up in stress. Having only a page to read daily breaks down a program of inspiration in doable doses that can over time keep someone grounded in a clear and relaxing place. The prompts and quotes suggest lightness of thought and I know that's what I need during life transitions.

Rita: What things did you do or say to yourself that helped you the most when you were transitioning from your corporate career to a creative life?

Jill: Great question.

"Thanks for sharing but I'm doing this anyway," (said to voices of fear that were there daily for a few years)
I never want to work for someone else again (said in a stubborn voice like a bratty child).
I just looked at the small step in front of me and trusted that if I completed it, my intuition would lead me to the next step. That said, I needed to learn that the process is so not linear and to accept and welcome detours, lapses, bridge trolls, flying monkeys, dead-ends masquerading as opportunities and eventual, thorough-ways filled with the blessings inherent in taking risks in the name of a higher purpose.

Rita: I know you believe there is a strong connection between spirituality and creativity. Can you explain your thoughts on this?

Jill: To me: being a creator, listening to and expressing an inner call from a higher purpose, using some of the talents with which I was born, being immersed in a process that results in me being a better person, and sharing inspiration, humor, and wisdom are all both spiritual and creative.

Thank you Jill!

Expose your belly even if, even when…

2009-02-04T14:45:00.003-05:00

I find those little dogs with the loud barks to be really funny. Every time I see one, I’m tempted to say, “Dude, the bark isn’t working for you. You’re still little.” So of course I loved the story that Rama Berch, founder of Svaroopa yoga, told a room full of yogis one weekend. Whenever her poodle saw people walking on the sidewalk in front of Rama’s house, the dog ran out to them, and instead of barking, she lay down and exposed her belly. “No one could ever resist giving her exactly what she wanted. Old and young, men and women would stop to scratch that belly.”

The story reminded me of one of my coaching clients, who recently let go of her bark in favor of exposing her belly. When I first met Anna, she said she felt paralyzed and overwhelmed. She’d created a wonderful non-profit but didn’t know how to take it or herself to the next level—the work ahead was daunting. And the fear of disappointing those who relied on her prevented Anna from taking the actions needed to grow the organization beyond a one-woman show. “I feel like I’m running in place,” she told me on our introductory call. “I don’t feel like the organization can function without me, and I’m just one person doing it all. That’s just not enough.” Her voice tense and her speech rapid, I could almost hear the anxiety marching back and forth in her head.

More than anything, Anna wanted to develop the resources and platform needed to realize the vision for her non-profit: creating a healing place for the community. But Anna was also terrified of anyone seeing her as less than perfect and fully competent at all times. She had imprisoned herself in the image of strength she had created, and the amount of pressure was paralyzing.

On our third session together, Anna blew me away. She had started to open up and rely on others. During the time we worked together, Anna was invited to present two grant proposals. Instead of writing the same type of grant proposal she was used to presenting, she decided to start from scratch, asking her board members for input. “It was liberating and powerful,” she said, “to invite others in.”

For her second grant, the sponsoring foundation invited non-profit participants to meet with its executives and openly discuss proposals face-to-face, in order to increase the likelihood of acceptance. Nobody signed up, except Anna. “For the first time in my life,” she told me the day before her meeting, “I’m going in there without my perfect grant proposal already written. Instead, I’m going to ask questions on how to do this the best way for my organization.”

So what transpired between coaching sessions one and three? Anna had been working on shifting her thinking to begin honoring and valuing herself and all that she’d been able to accomplish. From that new place of self-worth, she was able to put her ego aside for the sake of her bigger vision to help others. “I decided I didn’t want to run a personality-driven organization. I started acting in the best interest of the people I serve by being honest about what I can do and what I need help with. And I’m letting people know that I’m only one person, instead of letting them think that I’m running a huge organization.” Anna now sounded confident and relaxed as she described her work.

I was awed, inspired and energized by Anna’s change. Because I knew that what I had witnessed was human potential at its best. Despite our full-grown human bodies, many of us tend to behave as if we are five-inch-tall yappy dogs. And I know that at times I can be the smallest and yappiest of them all. Because we feel so small in a big, scary world, we use an insistent bark as our shield. The bark is the familiar ego, and too many of us get stuck living from there. Rather than making us look big and strong, it keeps us from letting go and allowing our creative projects, visions and dreams to unfold.

Anna and I haven’t had our last session together yet, but I did get an email saying that the grant meeting was “AWESOME.” I tend to believe that this is just the first of many wonderful moments and milestones. The more honest and open we are about who we really are and what we’re trying to do, the more things we wish for come easily and happily along. And the greater peace we feel inside. Thank you, Anna, for proving that the best things happen to us when we expose our bellies to other six-foot humans…even when we may feel five inches tall inside.

Say yes chipmunk! Say yes!

2008-12-02T15:11:00.001-05:00

Unlike other hibernating animals, chipmunks do not develop a layer of fat to provide them with energy during their dormant periods. Instead, they store large caches of food underground for use during winter. Those cute little cheeks of theirs have internal patches that let them carry food.

If you’re anything like me, you’re a chipmunk too. Really. I’ve recently started coaching people going through transitions and I’ve noticed that we all do, in fact, exhibit some chipmunk behavior. We go through life acquiring all sorts of experiences. We store them somewhere in the underground of our minds. But unlike the chipmunk, when winter comes we look in our empty cheeks and find nothing. We ask ourselves, how in the world can I start my own business, write a book or take on a new position when I’ve never done it before? If we look a little deeper, we’ll be amazed by the large caches of experience we’ve stored.

I distinctly remember that turning point for me. Earlier this year, before I completed my coach training, I decided to develop a website to begin promoting my creativity workshops and coaching services. I didn’t have a Masters in Fine Arts or coaching certification. But what did I have? I started digging. I slowly began finding the nuts. I started by remembering every single art, creativity and writing class and workshop I’d ever taken. I was surprised at how many there were and how much I’d learned. More nuts: the number of writers I’d managed, pieces I’d written and painted, people I’d coached, personal and business transitions I’d successfully mastered over the years. This is what made me qualified to do what I wanted to do. And this is what gave me the confidence to take the leap forward.

How many times have you said no to a job or project because you didn’t think you had enough experience? How many times have you seen someone with a fraction of your talent and knowledge say yes and fumble along? I can remember several times in my own career. The only difference between that person and us is that he or she had the confidence and audacity to say, “Yes I can do it!” If you don’t have that audacity built into your genes—and most of us don’t—find your inner chipmunk and start looking for those nuts. I promise they’re there. You may not have done the same exact project or job before, but you may have done something similar. Remember that all of our skills are transferable.

Moving towards our dreams means saying yes with confidence. It’s definitely scary at times. But the more you say yes, the easier it gets and the more confidence you amass. Start with the nuts, chipmunk, and before you know it, winter will be over and you’ll be running around in the sunny days of your new life.

It’s all in the blankets.

2008-09-26T15:27:00.001-04:00

“Everything started changing for you when you started doing that yoga you do.” It was remarkable that my best friend of 30 years (we met in the crib) could pinpoint the moment when things started shifting for me—about a year and a half ago. When I was too afraid to fully pursue my passion for writing, hadn’t had a long-term relationship in 12 years and wasn’t even sure where I was going to live. My stuff was living in San Francisco; my body was lodging in Atlanta.

I stumbled upon “that yoga” my friend was referring to when another friend invited me to go with her to a class. “It’s really relaxing,” she said. And I thought, “Yeah I’ve done restorative yoga before. That’s cool.” My friend didn’t know that I had been living with unrelenting pain in my shoulder blade for over a year. I had come to think of it as an unpleasant, noisy squatter. Harmless enough, it created enough havoc to make it impossible for me to sleep through the night. I was just happy that the intensity of the noise had eased over time—even though it did refuse to stop. And I had tried everything: a sadistic chiropractor, acupuncture needles, homeopathic remedies, physical therapy sessions, all types of yoga and the very unknown Bowen technique. They all seemed to get rid of the pain for about a minute before it returned to its comfortable lodging place.

When I walked into class for the first time, I saw plaid blankets everywhere. No yoga mats, just blankets. Blankets to lay on, rolled up blankets, blankets folded into thirds, blankets folded into halves. Oh yeah, and a couple of blocks. I had been doing Iyengar, Vinyasa, Hatha and other types of yoga for years and I’d never seen anything like this. “Ok,” I thought, “why not?”

Jody, the instructor, helped me settle in on the floor, propping my legs up on several folded and rolled up blankets. We started with shevasana, a relaxation pose I was used to do doing at the end of class. So I knew right away that this was going to be different. And it was. Each pose was a gentler variation of the traditional yoga pose I was so familiar with. Each used a blanket or blocks so that I could actually relax into the pose without any effort at all. We didn’t even get to downward dog. I felt new spaces in my body I didn’t know existed, my muscles let tension slide away, my mind fell into a meditative stupor.

After class, I spoke with Jody. When I told her about my pain and how I had been giving up on yoga little by little, she smiled. “You’ve stumbled into the right place and you don’t even know it. Svaroopa yoga focuses on opening the spine,” she explained. Jody used to be a personal trainer. Then she developed herniated discs. “Going from weight training to Svaroopa was quite a switch for me. But you’ll see the change is remarkable. My discs healed.”

I was skeptical. I’d gotten my hopes up so many times before. But after a few classes and a couple of individual yoga therapy sessions, the change was miraculous. The squatter was not only evicted, but I felt better than I had ever felt before. I felt like I was experiencing my body for the first time. My shoulders, usually uneven due to scoliosis, now looked even in the mirror. I felt happier than ever, giddy. And the pain never returned.

But there was more. Something had shifted internally as well. I’d been on an emotional and spiritual growth path for a long time, but Svaroopa got me to new levels much faster. By helping me reach deep inside of myself and let go.

I now know that those crazy Svaroopa blankets provide external support so we can discover the internal strength that exists inside of each one of us—physically, mentally, and spiritually. And as we release the tensions in the muscles wrapped around our spine, we also release the stories that live in our bodies and color our perceptions. Those old stories from our past that make us react in a very certain way to brand new situations. Those pesky illusions that keep us stuck in the same behavior we’re so sick of even when we don’t realize we’re doing it and even when we don’t know we’re sick of doing it. By releasing all of that, Svaroopa yoga brings us closer to our true essence, to who we really are.

That’s what happened to me. In retrospect, I can now see how stuck I’d been. Just as stuck as that pain had been in my shoulder. I had reached a certain level of happiness and success. And my life had taken up residence on that mesa for so long, that I couldn’t find my way to the higher mesas around me. Internal release gave me the gentle boost I needed to move upward.

Soon after I started Svaroopa, I began working towards realizing my greatest desires. I applied to an MFA program in creative writing, I began visualizing the love of my life, and decided that I would pursue a creative career despite nearly immobilizing fears around money. And I finally moved my things to Atlanta. Those were just a few steps in a journey I never could have imagined at the time. One that’s brought me more joy and growth than I could have ever conceived. Now I’m a writer, artist and creativity coach with the love of my life by my side. And I continue to practice Svaroopa every day. To make sure no squatters ever return. But how could they? There’s too much power in a bunch of Svaroopa blankets.

If you live in the Atlanta area, you can try Svaroopa at Jody's studio.
To find a Svaroopa teacher near you, click here.

In the sane asylum, I learned I was an African queen.

2008-09-12T17:27:00.009-04:00

I was moving on tip toes, lifting one bent leg, thrusting it to the right and squatting down. My arms came down to the floor and swooped up, springing my body back on tip toes. I twirled myself around and around, my arms outstretched to the sides. I began running like a ballerina would, legs turned out and feet landing lightly at an angle. My arms made outward swimming strokes to push the brush out of the way. I was deep in the jungles of Africa. And as I ran, I could see the others. One woman stomping her feet, waving arms in the air, head bent forward, thrusting from side to side. Her black hair covered her entire face.

It was a Saturday morning in the Candler Park neighborhood of Atlanta. We were in Joan Toder’s expressive movement class, which she calls Dance Meditation. Like all expressive arts, the concept is simple. You let the art form take over, letting it get deep inside of you and pull out some amazing bits from your deepest core. All of a sudden, you’re a dancer, a writer, a painter and you’re learning from those very bits that the art form has brought to light. In Joan’s class, you simply listen to music and move. However, wherever you want. As others in the class do the same.

For the first part of the class, I danced in a corner of the room, not wanting to stray too close to others, focusing on myself and whatever movement came out of me. I heard hooting, grunting and whooping come out of the other participants. Some rolled on the floor, others danced. I couldn’t help but take in some of the energy in the room. Liberation, freedom. It entered my body and made me giggle. It reminded me of Paulo Coelho’s book, Veronika Decides to Die, in which sane people decide to remain in a mental institution because it’s the only place that’s acceptable and easy to be non-conformists. Was this what Coelho’s sane asylum was like? Full of freedom and joy?

After 45 minutes of this, Joan asked us to move intentionally close to others while continuing our own dances. The group gathered in the center of the room and began to move. Now I had no choice. I had to get close to others. At first, I danced on the outskirts of the group, around those on the outer edges. Sometimes it was difficult to maneuver around a person, especially if arms were flailing about. But as I continued to focus on my own dance, I let it take me through the middle of the circle when it was time. The same fast-tempo salsa tune elicited some to move slowly, others to move quickly. So many ways to interpret one song.

And then my favorite and most challenging part of the class. While we danced our own dance, we touched others lightly as we moved by them. Remaining unaffected by their movement. Some people danced together for a bit while their hands touched, each moving in their own world. I saw them connect for a second and then move on.

Joan’s class was such a beautiful metaphor for living a creative life. How we each have our own very distinct dance. How we need to trust it to take us where we need to go. And remain focused on it even while other energies swirl around us. Hopefully, we can. Hopefully, in the bliss of our own dance, we can accept another’s touch. Hopefully, we can offer one to someone else. This is the meaning of true freedom.

Years ago, I would have been too shy to come into a class like this. But now, I look forward to seeing what different art forms can bring out of me and what I’ll learn about myself in the process. If I hadn’t tried the sane asylum of expressive movement, I never would have known that an African queen lived inside of me. Though I did suspect it.

Something to consider:
During times of transition, it’s important to try out lots of new things that push you outside of your comfort zone, like different art forms. Expressive arts not only bring creativity into your life in the least intimidating way, but they teach you about yourself. Things come out of you that you didn’t think you had in you, and those who didn’t think they were creative may be surprised to find they had a writer, painter or African dancer queen living right inside them all along.

Mindless writing 101: permission to play, have fun and be an artist.

2008-09-03T13:55:00.006-04:00

My mind got very pissed off the other day. It was finally settling into its favorite lavender-scented bubble bath when it heard an awful thing. So awful that it got out of the tub and started jumping up and down and yelling in outrage. Until I agreed to sit down and write this article.

I was at an art show where my boyfriend and I fell in love with a particular artist’s work. When I saw the way the artist had mastered the use of acrylics in the way I wanted to, I approached the guy standing in the booth and asked if I could take classes.

“No,” he said. “The artist is very busy and very shy. But she’ll tell you that, as an artist, you have to just give yourself permission to play, try different things out and see what works.”

“Yeah, I understand. I’m a writer and it’s the same thing in writing or any art form really,” I said.

“Well no. I come from a big family of writers and I know that when it comes to writing, it’s all about character development.”

That’s when my mind got out of the tub and when my boyfriend gave me a look that said, “I can just imagine what’s going on in your head right about now.”

After taking oodles of writing, art and creativity classes, workshops and trainings over the last 20 years, I’ve come to realize that somehow writing has been involved in a terrible PR campaign that has created a scary, unapproachable and painful image of this sweet art form. Talk to any writer and you’ll inevitably hear about the difficulties of writing. I used to be one of them. Now, I’m determined to put a stop to it.

The following myths around writing are a disservice to writers, potential writers and the art of writing. Hearing these things over and over again from respected authors, directors of MFA programs and emerging writers creates a reality where writing is difficult and people are scared of trying it. It’s time to deconstruct the old PR campaign, because everyone has something to say and it can actually be really fun to write.

Old myth: The writing process is difficult, full of struggle and painful.
New reality: The writing process can be easy, fun, joyful and blissful if we let it.
Whether you’re painting, writing or creating any type of art, the creative process has two distinct parts to it: a flow that comes from quieting the mind and letting the art travel through us, and the craft in which we apply particular techniques to create a polished, finished product. There are zillions of classes on the craft of writing, where we learn about character development and scene creation and narrative arc—all important things that tame the writing and make it go deeper. But if we apply too much focus on the craft, the real organic beauty of our words can easily get squashed. And the process can become difficult, even joyless. Reveling in the mindless, organic part of the process and honoring it as an important part of creativity makes writing joyful and fun.

Old myth: Writing is cerebral.
New reality: The best writing comes from the body and senses and our childlike ability to play.
In the writing workshop I developed, I use practical techniques that disengage the mind, and instead, engage the entire body and senses where our words live. We also practice playing, which is an important part of all creativity, including writing. I recently trialed the workshop with a group that included a couple of writers whose writing I’m familiar with. And some of the words that came out during the workshop were the best I’d ever seen from them. Fresh and different and passionate. By disengaging the mind, you let the writing take you to places you never even thought of going. The writing writes you.

Old myth: The writer often faces a blank page, which causes writer’s block.
New reality: There is no blank page.
I’m not sure if this is an American invention or not but when I visited Cuba this year, I spoke with various writers who insisted there is no such thing as a blank page. “The page is never blank. Even if it appears so. The writer is always full of experiences and ideas. They are already on the page of a different form—in our minds,” one writer told me. Applying organic methods throughout the writing process can create an easy flow from our minds right onto the page.

Old myth: Writers are introverts, and the art of writing is a solitary act.
New reality: Writers need a creative community they can be part of, draw support from and get creatively inspired.
The expectation that writers need to be alone with their thoughts makes the process of writing more difficult. Staying inside of one’s head for too long can be unhealthy, cause depression and put a halt to creativity for lots of writers. While there are many art centers where artists can rent studio spaces, there are very few places like this for writers. Yet, writers too need collaborative centers where they can share office space, have a community of support and get out of their heads. Because the creative process is never a solitary act, and ideas only get better around other creatives. [I’m in the process of developing a creativity incubator for artists and writers. Anyone interested in joining me in this project?]

Writing has been separated from other art forms for far too long by the myths that claim it to be a solitary, cerebral and painful experience. Everyday, I work towards creating this new reality for myself and other writers: a joyful, collaborative world that lets us tap into our deepest writing in the gentlest of ways. To create this new world, I believe that the organic, mindless part of the writing process needs more attention. It needs to be part of every writing program. So we can let our minds go on vacation and soak in the tub as long as they want. While we have some real fun—letting our best words flow onto the page.

I was a closet leader. How about you?

2008-08-14T11:21:00.001-04:00

Everyone who knows me knows that I love to collaborate. I believe that the best ideas, efforts, come from multiples and creating is not a solitary act. But seeking collaboration can sometimes be a symptom of closet leadership, a common condition that may be outgrown.

For years I’d been told by various bosses that I was a natural leader because CEOs, vice-presidents and everyone below them tended to listen to me even when I didn’t have a big title. (I never cared about titles, which was definitely one of the things companies liked about me.) The closet leadership quality proved to be a benefit as well as a huge thorn in the organization’s side depending on the boss I had at the time. Try to control me, and I became unproductive and unhappy. Give me some resources, a team and complete freedom and I’d create miracles that saved the company money and made my bosses look great. As long as I wasn’t in the spotlight, I enjoyed taking charge. Maybe it was the shyness left over from childhood. Maybe it was because Myers Briggs labeled me an introvert. Maybe it was just fear.

But this year. This year was different. In my new creative life, I was still hoping to stay behind the scenes. Wishing to collaborate, I approached a national organization to run some meetings for them. They weren’t interested. I had tried to volunteer for a women’s organization for years and they still weren’t interested. I was supposed to develop a workshop series with a colleague and realized that our visions weren’t matching.

At first I felt a little rejected, a little lost and deflated. I felt all alone. Then I heard a message in my head. It turns out the universe was yelling pretty loudly because sometimes I can’t hear it when it whispers. “It’s your time to step up. Do your own thing.” It took a little while for it to sink in. Mainly because I didn’t want it to be true. But I knew it was. It was time.

So I mustered up some courage and decided to heed the call. Now I’m deep in the process of coming out of the closet to take full ownership of the things I’ve loved and believed in for years. I’ve launched my own writing workshops, am starting a creative group that meets every couple of weeks and beginning to research the creation of a non-profit creativity incubator. Am I scared? Yes. Sometimes. But then it feels great. I’ve reached new levels of confidence and feel more myself than I ever have before.

Sometimes you just have to have a little courage to come out of that seemingly safe closet space. I realize now that it’s really not that safe or comfortable in there. At some point, it starts feeling claustrophobic and frustrating because our visions demand to be let out, paraded in public and grown.

I still believe in collaboration, but now I know that if something I want doesn’t exist, it’s up to me to take the lead in creating it. Even if it means being in the public eye. It’s ok to let everyone know that you are committed to a project you believe in and have others join you in your quest. If you can’t find that job, club or product you’re looking for, ask yourself if it’s time for you to step up and out. Are you a closet leader? Come on out! The rewards are well worth it.

Getting lost can lead us home.

2008-07-23T14:09:00.002-04:00

When I was working on a story about the Gulf War last year, I suddenly realized that I was really writing about my marriage. When I paint, I put down a bunch of colors on paper and then see what images start to emerge for me. This is my creative process. I never know where I’m going to end up, but I do know that the process itself will always be surprising and exhilarating.

Life is much the same way. And even more so during times of transition. You may have an idea of where you want to end up, but if you let yourself open up to any possibility that comes up and stay tuned to how you feel during the process, there’s no telling what unexpected joy will come into your life.

I’ll give you just a few examples that surprised me during the first six and a half months of this year.

I had been waiting for a year to start my MFA program but when I went to Boston in January for my residency, I realized pretty immediately that it added little value to my development as a writer. But the program offered a trip to Cuba to visit artists. Going to Cuba and interviewing Cuban artists had been a life-long dream of mine, so of course I went.

That trip helped bring me closer to my parents than I could have ever imagined—gave me a fuller understanding of their lives as exiles. And as a result, I was able to interview them on camera telling their stories—another life-long dream that I had given up due to my deteriorating relationship with them over the years. My parents and I went from talking on the phone for a few minutes every couple of months to having weekly calls that I now look forward to.

I had been working on a collection of non-fiction stories for nearly three years when the inspiration for a new book came so strongly that I decided to create a blog around it. You’re now reading pieces of my new book.

Dropping out of the MFA program made me rethink what I was going to do next. I decided to finally launch a writing workshop series and complete a coaching program—both had been on my mind for years. And as I pursue these dreams, I keep meeting people with similar visions and backgrounds who encourage and guide me along the way.

To let your plans go without knowing what will come next can definitely feel a little disorienting, and you may even feel a little (or even a lot) lost as I did. But stick with it. Engaging in a creative life leads to more fulfillment, growth and love than you or I can often imagine. As long as we let go, follow our truest loves and inspirations. And let the process work on us. I’ve learned more about myself and life than I ever could have imagined had I stayed the course: writing about the Gulf War or painting those pretty abstract colors. Taking notice of what came up for me on the way to getting an MFA made me stop and change directions. Honoring the process led me home.

Adopt flexibility as a way of life
Stay tuned to your body and intuition – especially during transition times
Be willing to change directions mid-way – any discomfort you feel will eventually go away
Practice patience and trust the process
Express gratitude for the unexpected surprises that take you places you never thought you’d be able to go

Oh kidney beans! My little kidney beans.

2008-07-08T23:24:00.001-04:00

Two years ago, in the midst of starting up a new business, I ended up in the hospital with a kidney stone. Two weeks ago, in a different city 2500 miles away, a new doctor tells me he suspects I have another one. A barely-noticeable microscopic dot that appears to be lodged in my bladder. I will spare my readers the details.

It’s no coincidence. I realize this is a pattern. My body reacts to transitions it perceives as scary in this very particular way. (Interestingly enough, not all transitions are scary for me—just the ones where financial income is not completely obvious.) So during these transitions, I tend to put pressure on myself to achieve quick results, produce, create. Because the faster I do, the faster I can start generating money again. It becomes a vicious cycle. Worries about time, money and results become intertwined with my health. My poor body responds my producing a small stone. “Here it is. Did we do good?” I hear my kidneys ask.

This year, I became certified in Reiki so I decided to take a look in one of my chakra books. My second chakra—the one that represents change, emotions, water—appears blocked. Well, that makes sense doesn’t it? My body knows what it’s doing. There’s nothing like a little kidney stone to make you stop and reconsider the turmoil in your mind.

When you’re transitioning, don’t be surprised if your body reacts. If you experience some health issues. Your body is responding to your mental state. Maybe you’re purging old beliefs. Maybe your body wants you to slow down. What is your body trying to tell you? What do your illnesses represent? Pay attention. The messages are important. Our subconscious beliefs, our perceptions of life experiences, are stored in our cells and manifest in the body when we don’t pay attention to them. When they’re not released.

I’m reading a great book called Fruitflesh which is all about writing from the senses. It recommends writing a love letter to your various body parts, maybe ones you’ve neglected in the past or that require extra attention now. And so I write one. Dear Kidney Beans…In the letter I apologize for letting my mind take over. I thank my kidneys for keeping me healthy and sane and for reminding me to take care of them and me.

I also write to my kidney stone and ask it to return to earth. It’s served its purpose. I’ve spent nearly three weeks paying attention to my kidneys. Working slowly. Taking breaks when I need to. Doing energy healing. Drinking water and more water.

I like to think that the fact I didn’t end up in the hospital this time is proof that I’ve made some progress over the last two years. That I’m somewhat more adept at handling this type of transition. But whether I think I am or not doesn’t really matter. My body will always tell the truth. And I am truly humbled. By the great wisdom in a simple stone.

During times of transition, remind yourself to…

Budget for good healthcare, including preventative alternate practices
Take extra-good care of yourself, taking frequent breaks, eating well, drinking enough water and exercising
Believe that the universe is here to provide you with all that you need when you need it
Set up a support system of people you can discuss your transition with
Release worries and fears through body work, art, meditation, talk—anything that works for you
Spend some time acknowledging and appreciating your body parts and organs
Be gentle and loving with yourself—make sure you tell yourself at least one thing you like about you every day

Are you ready for a Christmas tree in your life?

2008-06-26T20:20:00.000-04:00

A subject that comes up a lot lately among my single friends is love. “Why haven’t I found it?” They ask over and over again. Then, “I’m a great catch. I’m ready for a committed relationship. I don’t understand why I haven’t met that person yet.” There’s a huge level of frustration that I completely understand. I was there just a little over a year ago. And everyone who knows me marvels at what happened to me. I met the love of my life. Yes me. I hadn’t had a long-term relationship in the 12 years since my divorce. I’m the one who insisted that I couldn’t see myself with a non-Jewish partner. Being the daughter of a Holocaust survivor, I just couldn’t imagine having a Christmas tree in my living room. I don’t know how many times I must have said that over the years when friends tried to set me up.

So what changed? After ending yet another short-term relationship with a very nice man who was so ill-suited for me it’s hard to believe we were ever together, I decided I’d had enough. It wasn’t premeditated in any way but here’s what evolved for me.

The first thing I did was to revisit my love life. I identified the types of relationships I was attracting and the underlying reasons as to why I was attracting them.
I mentally and verbally decided and stated that this was no longer acceptable. I began to feel and believe deeply that I deserved a wonderful, giving, loving man.
I let go of the need to find a Jewish man.
I began to surround myself with small things that represented love—books and DVDs, etc.
I began to pray for love in my life.
And here’s the thing that made it all come together. I wrote a love letter to the person that I knew was out there. In it, I reminisced about how we met, how it felt, and how we behaved around each other. I asked him to come home to me.
To read a copy of the letter, click here.

Looking back, I now have a greater understanding of what blocked me from receiving love. And I hear the same assumptions I once made from my frustrated single friends. Here’s why I don’t believe they’re true anymore.

If the person I like would only…see what a great catch I am, be a better communicator, understand me better, be a better lover… When you meet the right person, he or she will appreciate you for who you really are. You won’t have to struggle with trying to prove yourself or trying to change major aspects of his or her personality. True love is about letting go of expectations. At the same time, if you end a relationship with someone who wasn’t a good fit for you, be grateful for the experience. You just had the opportunity to find out what you don’t want so you can clear the way for the right person to walk into your life.

I’m ready for a relationship. If you’re struggling to find someone, presume that you’re not ready. Ask yourself what’s holding you back. Do you feel you truly deserve love in your life? Really delve into your history and clear old issues through energy, body and/or talk therapy.

It’s a numbers game and there’s such a small pool of good single people out there. Finding the right person is like winning the lottery. Ok, if this were really true, very few people would ever find love. This mindset sets you up to expect failure. "How will I find love with these odds?" Ask the people you know who are truly in love how they met and you may find that it had nothing to do with how many people they dated. Many times, it’s a completely unexpected singular occurrence that brings people together—some may have even been taking a break from dating and met at a party or coffee shop. And at the risk of sounding like someone’s grandmother…even if there’s a small pool, even if the odds are great, it only takes one.

This is the one area of my life I have no control over. This is the most frustrating concept for successful people. I now dispute this. I believe we do have control, but it’s on a spiritual level. Love is a spiritual journey. And by spiritual I mean learning to love and honor yourself first, believing you are able and deserving to realize your desires, being honest and able to communicate your truth to others. If you ready yourself on a spiritual level, the love of your life will come.

Why do I attract all of the crazies? By stating this, you’re making this your reality. The reality is that there are a lot of people with issues in the world—people who have not reached the levels of growth you may have reached. So there’s a good chance that you may meet a lot of them when you date frequently. It’s important NOT to make it about you.

I made a list of everything I want in the person. Give up the list! It’s important to know what you really want but not the detailed characteristics of the person. If you want true passionate love, state it. But please don’t ask for the guy with black hair, blue eyes, a great sense of humor and a big wallet. Ask for the cake, not the icing.

Last year, a month after I wrote the love letter, the world shifted for me. More love and happiness beyond my wildest imagination came strolling into my life with a man named Jim. On Christmas, I sent my friends a photo of me sitting in front of a Christmas tree. I had the hugest smile on my face. The seasons change but the smile is still there. And I’ve learned that a Christmas tree is just a Christmas tree. The deepest truest love is what really matters. And my friends, who are still laughing about the picture, will attest that if it can happen to me, it can happen to anyone. You just have to be ready for it.

View picture of me and the tree
View picture of me, love of my life and the tree

It’s taken 41 years and a little hyperventilating to hear the angels sing.

2008-06-23T20:35:00.000-04:00

Ah money. The one little word that can make me hyperventilate. If only I could get a handle on this one fear once and for all…I see the angels showing up to perform a concert in my honor. “She’s finally gotten it!” they’d sing.

I’m one of those people who truly believes that if you follow your passion, then the money will follow. It’s always been the case for me. But as I watch my financial debt increase these days, waves of anxiety and doubt creep into my head. The fear of running out of money, the fear of becoming a burden, the fear of becoming destitute. The fears throw a big party all over my brain. Until my saner, sweeter self comes in and kicks them out, drinks and all.

Then I remember. This isn’t my first transition. Over the last few years, I’ve moved away from my reliable revenue-generating career to try new ventures. And I’ve learned that transition has little to do with money. But it does have everything to do with our own perceptions on living.

Sometimes we prevent ourselves from doing the things we want to try, think we’ll love, or have dreamt of our entire lives, because we think we don’t have the money. Or at least we tell ourselves that’s the reason. “I can’t afford to do that.” I’ve heard that from so many people including myself. Can you afford not to do it? What’s the cost of living an unfulfilled life?

There’s definitely a financial cost to changing our lives but it helps to keep it in perspective. “Your life is like a business and you have to expect to operate at a loss for a certain period of time until your transition is complete,” my friend and business colleague told me at the beginning of the year. When we start a business, we expect to invest money and then give the venture time to generate a profit. Our transitions are the most important business ventures we’re going to invest in and yet we worry about putting in the time and money. The worrying really doesn’t help.

Here are some things I've learned along the way that do help me:

Life requires living, whether you have the money or not. It also requires a plan. If you have a plan for your new life, then you can start really living by doing what you love.

You have more money than you think you have. Even with a budget in place, it’s hard to know how much money you actually have until you have to spend it without bringing in any income. I had no idea until I started a business a couple of years ago and lived off of my savings. That savings lasted a lot longer than I ever thought it would. And I found pockets of money that I had forgotten about, lasting me nearly two years.

You can easily learn to live on less. Having less money taught me how to do more for myself and become more resourceful. I used to shop retail. Now I don’t.

Not having money helps you overcome your fear of not having money. Ask yourself, what’s the worst that can happen? For me, the worst that can happen is going back to a career that I once loved and still enjoy.

There are resources for living with no money. As long as you have good credit, you can take out loans or lines of credit. You can also research grants and other available money.

Having no money is a choice and is temporary. It’s a time of investing in your future to rebuild. Transitioning to a life you love at every level brings abundance. Whenever I’ve needed money, it’s come—through opportunities that land on my doorstep.

You always have something to fall back on. We have so many skills. If you’re transitioning out of a career, you can always go back if really necessary. Or you can turn that knitting hobby into a money-making endeavor.

Listen to yourself and commit to your passion. Friends, family and strangers may tell you you’re crazy when you decide to make a change. “You can’t make any money doing that,” they may say. Just remember that they’re expressing their own fears, and you can in fact make money from anything you love and commit to do.

It’s taken me 41 years to muster the courage to pursue a career that everyone insists will leave me homeless. So I know it’s normal to have days of doubt, even panic. I’m training my practical, business mind to quiet. And learning to listen to my gentler spirit—the one that tells me it’s ok to pursue the things I love, with or without money on hand. Deep in my soul, I know the money will come. I can almost hear those angels singing in the distance.

I admit it. I’ve been napping to the sounds of…

2008-06-11T13:02:00.000-04:00

Have you ever spent time around a pregnant lady? My family once had a housekeeper named Tiki. She was young and fun and I loved her. When she got pregnant, she confessed to me that as she made our beds in the morning, all she wanted to do was crawl in there and sleep the rest of the day away. And with seven nephews and a niece, I heard this exhaustion complaint many times over the years as each one of my siblings went through pregnancy. Gestation, I learned early on, is an exhausting process.

So I don’t know why I’m surprised. As I recreate my life from scratch, I literally want to crawl into the cushions of my couch, curl around the various pillows, become the couch itself. And I do. Around 5 pm every day, I turn on the tv, lay down and fall asleep. This is my new routine.

I’m in the middle of developing some really cool creativity workshops and a new website and various other projects. I guess that explains it. My yoga teacher says I’m pregnant. And I feel that way too. Strangely irritable and anxious at times, exhausted at others. Just writing about it makes me want to go home and take a long nap.

I’ve realized that I need to give my body what it needs. If it’s rest or sleep, or a whole day off, then that’s what I need to give it. We’re not creative machines, just gentle creative spirits. So I admit it. I’ve been napping. I fall asleep to the opening music of Beverly Hills 90210 on TV and wake up a couple of hours later to the sounds of the gang resolving some major life issue like what new boy to kiss. There’s a reason why this is so soothing for me. But you’ll have to read one of my books one day to find out why that is.

Become aware of your body and what it needs
Rest, sleep or take a whole day off when your body tells you to
Give yourself permission to do things that aren’t routine for the rest of society
Release any guilt around doing what your body tells you to

Fluttering and flying

2008-06-10T20:53:00.000-04:00

Today, someone asked me to talk about the picture on my blog. I feel that it symbolizes my transition so perfectly. The original picture was taken at the Atlanta Botanical Gardens by Jim Sichinolfi, who created this beautiful montage.

I took a step into the air and fluttered.
I landed on the ledge.
One floor below.
My wings were so small then.
But day after day, I tried.
Taking a step, fluttering,
finding my footing on the concrete behind me.
Then one day, I stepped off as usual.
I didn’t flutter. I didn’t fall.
New wings had grown,
So big they swallowed the sky.
I saw their shadow on that familiar ledge
And laughed.
I looked below
And saw
that I was
flying.

With a cookie by its side, the ego dies a hard death.

2008-06-02T16:47:00.000-04:00

Lately, I find myself searching for compliments. I baked cookies for my boyfriend this weekend and I knew they weren’t that great. And he agreed. Yet I felt a little disappointed. I wanted to give him something he really loved of course. But I also wanted my baking talent to be admired, raved about.

This is unlike me. I laugh about these things in general. I’ve actually only baked cookies three times in my life and all three times occurred during this year. For my boyfriend who loves cookies. And if you knew me, you’d know how unusual it is for me to be baking cookies for a man. Goes to show how madly in love I am. But that’s beside the point.

During my transition, I have lost the validation I used to get periodically when I turned in projects for pay. Not only is no one paying me for my creative projects—which are still in development—but no one’s telling me what a phenomenally great job I’ve done on anything. In fact, in the course of this year, I’ve received pages of beautifully crafted critique from my writing coaches and some nice verbal critique from other writers. Which are all very necessary and much appreciated. But they only highlight how much I’ve needed to look inward during this time.

Transition requires us to let go of the ego and connect with the higher part of ourselves, the part that’s always full of love—for ourselves, our creative projects and everything around us. It’s remarkable how we become accustomed to external validation to give us a sense of our own self-worth. And when we don’t get it anymore, our egos look for it in bad cookies and bad arguments. Recently, I’ve caught myself arguing harder to prove a point during discussions—the point I’m trying to make is that I can still be right, that I still have something to contribute.

With no money, compliments or projects yet completed, I’ve actually asked myself from time to time, what am I really contributing? My higher self knows the answer. You contribute by just being. Times of transition give us this gift: the time to stop and learn how to love ourselves for just being.

I’m ready to let my ego die. So every morning, I do yoga and meditate to connect to that part of me that’s eternally happy, loving, confident and full of patience. And every day, my ego breathes a little less. I have visions of it marching off into the sunset with a bag of bad cookies in its hand. To find its final resting place. So I can bake carefree once again.

Here are some suggestions that help us quiet the ego and love ourselves more:

Meditate – Sanaya Roman’s meditations in Spiritual Growth are particularly helpful
Try Svaroopa yoga which is designed to release mental patterns stored in the body
Write down three things you’re grateful for each day
Pay attention to what your body needs and do it – even if it means taking a nap in the middle of the day
Splurge on yourself at least once a week – even if it’s buying one flower or a piece of expensive chocolate

We’re not fish, after all.

2008-05-22T13:30:00.000-04:00

For anyone venturing out into an independent career—starting a home business or becoming an artist—solitude can be a surprising challenge. But as I transition from an independent business career to becoming a full-time writer, the change has been even more surprising.

Even though I wasn’t really getting too much social interaction in the last few years as an independent marketing consultant and writer, at least I had scheduled calls and meetings with live humans every so often. This year, even those are gone and I am alone in my head. On the one hand, I can go deep, deep inside a world of my own creation. A place so quiet and fully-absorbing that I don’t want to answer phone calls or emails any more. This in itself is surprising. When I’m working on a marketing project, I usually check email every two seconds. Working on my creative projects feels like going underwater. I don’t want to be disturbed. But then it gets to be too much.

“Don’t writers need solitude?” my best friend asks me when I complain about how hard it is for me to spend the entire day every day completely alone in my own head.

“Isn’t that a good thing?” It’s a valid question and the answer is a loud NOOOOOOO!

“I don’t know about other writers but I’m losing my mind over here,” I tell her.

The underwater feeling is great, but we’re not fish. If we stay under for too long, we can’t breathe. We become weird. We start to look and act like the stereotypical unwashed, unshaven, unkept writers who are great on paper but no one can stand to be around.

Personally, I need social interaction in my day. Beyond someone to say hello to. I already work out of coffee shops on most days and it’s not enough for me to say hi to Everett at Joe’s Coffee—even though I love Everett and Joe’s. Going to my writing group once a week isn’t enough. I like to have at least one person to discuss what I’m working on, exchange ideas, collaborate when the occasion arises. Being around other creative people on an ongoing basis inspires and motivates me. So I’ve opted to share an office space with someone from my writing group and will be starting a creative group in the coming weeks.

Finding the right balance between solitude and social interaction is important for creative people. And the right balance varies for each person. Here are some ways to incorporate some social interaction into your days.

Share an office with other creatives. Think SF Grotto. Even though these guys didn’t have any money when they started, they are all super successful today.
Join or start a creative group that includes innovative people from different fields to exchange ideas and hold you accountable to completing your projects.
Work with a coach on a regular basis.
Set up a standing weekly meeting with a friend who you can talk to about your work.
Attend writing group and association meetings on a regular basis.
Volunteer a few hours a week or get a mindless part-time job.

This is the year.

2008-05-21T12:52:00.000-04:00

This is the year, I told myself. I was finally taking a year to finish my book—a collection of stories I’d been working on in my free time for the last three years. I enrolled in an MFA program in creative writing, where I could receive the feedback I needed to complete the manuscript. I cut back my marketing freelance writing projects to nearly nothing. I was all set to go. And then the year began to unfold.

Nothing was like I expected. It felt like I was spinning in space after being launched from a giant slingshot. I realized pretty immediately that the MFA program wasn’t working for me. I wasn’t learning any more than I had been on my own, and too much feedback was stunting my creative process. So I dropped the program.

I woke up one day without deadlines, financial income or daily social interaction. This creative transition was nothing like I’d ever experienced before. Even the things that worked for me as an entrepreneur no longer worked. Self-imposed deadlines, for instance, weren’t working. How can you rush a creative story? Some days, I felt great. Other days, I felt like a big fat loser. Should I get a job? Should I volunteer? How was I going to put some structure into my days? How could I stay self-motivated? These were never problems for me before. Why was this transition so different for me?

I began to realize that I had to build a brand new life from scratch—which meant letting go of patterns and routines that actually made me successful in the past. Sound counter-intuitive? Actually, it’s not. It means listening to your intuition more than you ever have before. Without guilt and with renewed joy and motivation.

Transitioning to a creative career requires courage, faith and a whole new way of approaching life. This journey has made me take a look at everything in my life—from relationships to spirituality to my own creative process—in a new light. I’m learning every single day. And I’d like to share that experience with you. Join me on my journey. I’d love to hear what you have to say.