What if the Hare Had it Right?
We've been hating on the hare for centuries, while lauding his plodding companion. I've been pondering that of late, and I think maybe we owe an apology to the hare.
It's all about perspective.
If the goal is to win the race, then clearly the tortoise came out ahead. But what if that's not really the goal? What if the whole purpose of life is to explore and have adventures, rather than to end up the victor in some sort of contest to collect the most toys, fame, or success?
I can't help wondering what adventures the hare may have had while he was racing around not winning the race. Did he smell some flowers? Eat some carrots? Cavort with a flock of butterflies? Should we really expect a hare to run in a straight line from A to Z, or is it in his nature to explore?
Honesty time.
Part of what is triggering my thoughts on the hare is my own rather erratic journey.
I have been many different things in my life, and plan to be many more. Radical shifts of direction are nothing new for me. Every time I try to be a tortoise, aiming logically and earnestly for some specific goal, another goal tempts me to go haring off in a new direction.
I regret none of it.
Opportunity showed up at my door this week and asked if I wanted to come out and play. It was dressed in a hooded cape, like the dwarves who came to visit Bilbo Baggins. It had a gleam of danger in its eyes and a treasure map in its hand.
I was in. (And I will tell you more about all of this sooner. Hint: it involves planning creativity retreats with a brand new collaborator)
Course changes and detours are not always big things. Sometimes it's little stuff. This day, for example, has been an exercise in doing a bunch of really awesome things - most of which were not on my To Do List. I've been able to navigate them because of a willingness to change course and pursue the butterflies.
I believe it's important to have a goal and focus energy on it. I also believe it's important to be able to make a shift when another goal, or an altered goal, presents itself.
It's all about balance.
When we're stuck in tortoise mode we're so focused on Point A to Point B that we might miss out on some awesome detours. If we're flitting about from one thing to another, we might never get to Point B. I'm proposing that we become a hybrid creature, part tortoise, part hare.
Speaking of balance, we all need work, play, and a healthy dose of creativity in our lives, so this is your invitation to come and play in the Dreamweaver's Attic! I'm ridiculously excited about this venture with my friend and sister KMCC coach Sarah Sadie. You can check out our new Facebook page here. Or, take it a step further and join us for a fun, creativity inspiring class.
February Fun: Creativity Pick-Me-Ups (A Dreamweaver's Attic Online Class)
Winter blahs got you down? Recharge your creativity with some fun creative exercises designed to wake up your brain. Write, draw, laugh, share, and learn a few Kaizen-Muse tools along the way.
Date: February 10
Time: 11 am to 1 pm, PST
Place: Dreamweaver's Attic Zoom Room (free software download required)
Cost: $37
Your teachers: Kerry Schafer (Swimming North) and Sarah Sadie (Odonata Creative) are both Kaizen-Muse certified creativity coaches who like to create things.
Click here to register: http://bit.ly/DWAregistration
About that annoying voice in your head
If you really listen, you may find that the Critic wants you to be safe and not get hurt, so it is eternally trying to shut you down and keep you small. So thank it for the feedback, pat it on the head, and send it off to the spa.
Quick - without stopping to think - what is your inner critic saying to you RIGHT NOW?
CHALLENGE: Stop what you're doing, grab a pen and a piece of paper and try this. It will take you all of a minute and you might be surprised.
1. Set your timer for one minute, but don't start it yet.
2. At the top of your paper write: "Internal Critic: You have permission to speak freely."
3. Start the timer and let your pen write down everything the critic is saying to you. Keep the pen moving without stopping to think.
Ready? GO.
(Did you do the thing? No? I understand. If you're at all like me, you're busy. You're saying, "yeah, yeah. Who has time for stupid exercises? I'll get the gist by just reading."
But you won't. You'll get information, but you won't get the information that's hiding in your subconscious, and that is really important shit. If you really can't do the thing now, promise yourself you'll do it later.)
After you've let the Critic have the floor, add something like this at the bottom of your page:
I hear you. Thank you for sharing. Now please go do some yoga and, for the love of all things holy, chill out.
The hearts are important, because the Inner Critic is really part of YOU. War with your self defeats the purpose and wastes energy. If you can't feel love (the kind you might summon up for a fractious toddler) you can act as if. If you really listen, you may find that the Critic wants you to be safe and not get hurt, so it is eternally trying to shut you down and keep you small. So thank it for the feedback, pat it on the head, and send it off to the spa.
Even though it is usually well intentioned, the Inner Critic is seriously misinformed and often behind the times. You know what mine told me this week?
"You're lazy," it said. For a minute I bought in.
"Yeah, I know. I'm lazy." Heavy, sad sigh.
And then the cognitive dissonance kicked in. Wait. What?
I work a day job, run a coaching business, write books, take classes, and do a reasonable share of the household chores. I'm not exactly sitting around twiddling my thumbs. And yet, harbored in my subconscious, even after years of work on this sort of thing, there was this random, completely inaccurate belief.
I actually laughed out loud, (a real one, not an online LOL). And then I said to my critic, "You're delusional, my friend. Not sure where that one came from, but I'm not buying it. Not any more. Maybe I could be more productive or focused or make better use of my time. Lazy? I don't think so."
The belief has tried to sneak back in a couple of times, but I'm watching for it now and just shoo it away. When it goes, it takes with a bunch of guilt boogey men that have been hanging around.
Complete the Challenge
(I know. I told you this would only take one minute. But you can do this part of the challenge in your head while you drive or do dishes or shower or whatever, so it doesn't count on the clock.)
Pick one of the negative things your critic said to you and explore it a little. Try to look at it in a friendly, detached sort of way.. Is it true? What evidence supports the truth of it? Is there evidence against it? If you were presenting this negative statement to an impartial judge, would there be enough evidence for a conviction?
Can you put a spin on it? Think of it differently? Does it have a positive side?
Laziness, for example, could be spun as an ability to relax, to slow down, to enjoy the luxuries and pleasures of life instead of racing the clock. See how it becomes a virtue instead of a fault?
What purpose does this attribute serve in your life? If it isn't working for you, can you change one small thing--just a little tweak--that would make it into a quality that helps you?
As always, I'd love to hear how any of this works for you! Comment below, or email me.
Making Friends with Failure
Let me ask you this: which thing sounds more enticing - a fabulous failure, or a dismal, disappointing one? Which one would you be more likely to risk?
“Failure should be our teacher, not our undertaker. Failure is delay, not defeat. It is a temporary detour, not a dead end. Failure is something we can avoid only by saying nothing, doing nothing, and being nothing.” - Denis Waitley”
I am in the middle of a fabulous failure.
Don't look at me like that. I have not suddenly lost my mind. And I am quite well aware that fabulous and failure don't usually go together like wine and cheese.
But let me ask you this: which thing sounds more enticing - a fabulous failure, or a dismal, disappointing one? Which one would you be more likely to risk?
I believe (when I'm not caught up in feeling sorry for myself) that failure and success are flip sides of the same coin and all about perception. What is success to one person might be failure to another. What is failure to you might mean success to me.
I'll admit that this morning I wasn't quite so philosophical about the whole thing. My internal critic was ranting from a soapbox, and I was serving as a very receptive audience.
"See?" it said. "I told you this would never work. Why can't you be contented to just work a day job? Why do you persist in writing books that might not sell, and creating businesses that might not ever make money? And why on earth did you think anybody would want to pay money to come to a class that you are offering?"
The emphasis here was clearly that if anybody else had been offering this identical class, people would have been lining up around the block to attend it, whereas my confirmed class attendance right now is pretty close to zero.
My internal critic means well, but it is not particularly polite.
Fortunately, I happened to be chatting with my friend Sara Sadie, who is also a KMCC coach and who immediately asked me all the right questions and reminded me of what I already know.
I want to share those things with you, because I'm guessing that maybe you also stumble into failure every now and then.
Five things I know about failure:
1. If you fail at something, it means you've succeeded at trying. (Yes, this sounds like a cliche, but it's true anyway)
2. Every failure comes with an opportunity to learn something new or grow in a different direction.
3. Successful people fail more than other people, because they are always pushing the envelope. (Edison failed A LOT. So did Einstein. And a whole bunch of other really famous people whose names I can't think of right now)
4. Failure is relative. Sometimes success is as simple as readjusting your expectations.
5. Failure clears the decks to start over or try something new.
So tonight I will be at my office, ready to teach a class that will likely have no attendees. I might be disappointed about that, which is understandable. I've worked hard to make something happen that didn't happen.
But you know what? Life is like that. Disappointment never killed anybody. None of the time and energy I've spent was wasted. I've learned things. I had fun. I've grown in new and unexpected directions.
So whatever happens, I'm calling it a success and moving on to the next adventure.
What about you? Is there a failure you've experienced recently that you can reframe as a success? I'd love to hear about it.
On another note, I'd love to extend the following invitation:
An Invitation to Clarity and Mindful Awareness...
I'm offering a fun, interactive two hour online class with my friend and collaborator Sarah Sadie. We'll teach you some fun tools to help you adjust your focus so you can tune out the static and pay attention to the things that matter to you. I'd love to have you join us!
WHEN: Saturday, January 13, 11 am to 1 pm pst
WHERE: Online zoom classroom (free download)
WHY: Mindful Attention helps you make positive progress on creative projects, improve your relationships, and adjust your trajectory in your career or any other part of your life.
COST: $37
Invitation to a Fun and Festive Holiday Creativitea
Want to recover, discover, or protect your joy in the upcoming Holiday season? This is your special invitation to an online “Holiday CreativiTEA.”
Want to recover, discover, or protect your joy in the upcoming Holiday season? This is your special invitation to an online “Holiday CreativiTEA.” Your hosts - Sarah Sadie (odonatacreative.com) and Kerry Schafer (swimmingnorth.com) - are recovering perfectionists, Kaizen Muse creativity coaches, and muse facilitators who would love to share some fun and creative approaches to re-thinking the holiday frenzy.
What you can expect: zero pressure, zero guilt, great company, fun activities and Kaizen-Muse tools to help you access your own creative wisdom (even if it’s deeply buried).
This two hour online group is only $25! (Get a $5 savings if you bring a friend!). So byo tea, hot cider, hot cocoa or vanillasoydoublewhipowhammy coffee drink and join the fun.
The event will be held in an online zoom room, so we can see each other and talk in real time!
TO REGISTER: Contact Kerry at contact@kerryschafer.com OR Sarah at sarahsadie@atodonata.com
Finding gifts in the muck of the mundane
(This is Part II of The Demons of Mundanity. You can read part one here, or just carry on.) If I could draw, the image I would share with you this morning is that of a magic carpet stuck in a swamp. A woman sits at the center, cringing away from the mud, though it's clear the entire carpet will soon be submerged. A cat sits on one shoulder, another on her head. The cats are not amused, but not distressed, as they know she will care for their needs.
In one hand she holds a magic feather. She knows it is magic, because of the way it shimmers and shines and emits sparks when stroked. But although it is very beautiful, it doesn't seem to be helping her with her swamp situation.
The Demons of Mundanity, responsible for dragging the carpet down out of the sky, are still clinging to the edges with their grimy, gray, clutching fingers.
"Shoo!" she says, and they all let go and paddle off. She is surprised, but shouldn't be. Dragging flying objects out of the sky is their life purpose; objects already stuck in the muck are no longer of great interest.
Realizing that the only way she is ever going to get clear of the swamp is to wade, the woman is about to roll up the carpet and slop toward the nearest hummock of grass, when something catches her eye.
A large frog sits on a decaying stump, staring at her out of goggly eyes. It's much larger than an ordinary frog, and between its front legs it balances a beautiful, shining golden ball.
The woman sucks in a hopeful breath. Perhaps she has fallen into a fairytale after all. "Are you a prince?" she asks.
"Thank the swamp gods, no!," croaks the frog. "But this is the golden ball of a princess."
"It's beautiful," the woman says. "How did it come to be yours?"
The frog harrumphs, loudly. "It isn't mine. I'm only guarding it."
"For the Princess? Is she coming back?" The woman looks around, half expecting a beautiful princess to appear, levitating above the muck of the swamp.
"Perhaps. Perhaps not. I've never met her and don't know what she looks like." The frog's goggle eyes focus in on our adventurer. "You might be her, for instance. Are you a princess?"
"Are you kidding? Do I look like a Princess?"
The frog flicks its tongue and tries to shrug, a movement impossible for his body shape. "How do I know what a princess looks like? If you want it, it's yours. But you'll have to come and get it."
The woman stays where she is for a long moment. The carpet represents relative safety. In order to claim the golden ball she will have to take her first steps through the mud. However beautiful, the golden ball will be one more thing for which she is responsible, one more thing that she must carry.
Between the cats and the feather and the carpet, which she does not wish to abandon, her hands are full.
Still. The mud has reached the center of her carpet. Her backside is growing cold and wet.
"Hold on," she says to the cats, who obligingly dig in their claws, and she slides off of the carpet and lets her feet sink down into the mud. Trying not to think about worms and eels and other creepy crawly things unseen, she takes three slow, sloppy steps, and cups her hands around the golden ball.
She half expects the frog to disappear in a puff of blue smoke, but he just goggles at her for a moment. Without another word he leaps into the mud, sending up a splatter that coats the side of her face.
Our heroine barely notices, because the golden ball holds her full attention. It is lighter than she anticipated. There is a tiny keyhole in the side and she realizes that what it holds is infinitely more precious than the gold of which it is made. She doesn't know how to open it, but does she dissolve into despair?
"Don't worry," she says to the cats. "We will either find a princess or solve this riddle without her."
Leaving the magic carpet behind, she turns her face toward her destination and begins her sloppy journey through the mud, carrying the golden ball and the magic feather and trusting that she will find a way out of the swamp. (To be continued)
Are you slogging through a swamp today? If so, what gifts do you carry with you? Can you trust - even if it's just 5% of trust, or trust for 15 seconds at a time - that you'll find your way to where you want to be?
I'd love to hear about your journey and your gifts.