by Jenna | Jan 2, 2013 | Writing Articles
It's the second day of the new year.
I spent a little time yesterday wondering about whether I wanted to make any resolutions and found that the answer was no. What I want to do, more than anything, is keep doing what I've been doing, which is making a lasting change in my life a little at a time. I thought it might be interesting to talk about why these other ideas — resolutions, themes, and chains — don't work for me.
Why resolutions don't work for me
The idea of vowing to take on improvements in my life from the resolution perspective just doesn't work for me anymore.
I think it's because it's too vague. Maybe it's the way I think about resolutions. I'm not 100% sure.
What I know is that in the past, when I've made resolutions, I've failed to make concrete plans for taking steps to achieve them. I didn't understand the massive levels of resistance that would come up or have the slightest clue about how to deal with it. I didn't know what specific actions I'd be taking.
I can remember one year when I promised myself that I would eat better, and caved in to a tasty treat on January 1st. I gave up then, figuring that if I couldn't do it on day 1, I wouldn't be able to continue.
I can remember another year when I resolved to journal every day, and it maybe lasted for a week before I "blew it." So I didn't bother to try again after that.
Now granted, I've grown a lot since then and I think I'm certainly more self-aware than I was 20 years ago when I was making those resolutions, but at the time, my thinking was, "I've already blown it, why continue? It's already too late to get it right."
Inherently, I think the concept of a resolution can be difficult to sustain, and can set us up to feel like we've failed.
Why themes don't work for me
I've also taken classes and worked with coaches where I'm supposed to pick out themes for the year. The classes and concepts are lots of fun. We came up with themes like "Focus. Fun. Spirit."
But I never stay connected to the themes I identify. They don't have specific meaning for me. Or specific action steps associated with them. Too vague again.
Don't break the chain?
Then there's Jerry Seinfield's idea of "Don't Break the Chain."
Last year I toyed with the idea of writing every day. As you probably know, I run an online writing community — which promotes that kind of regular, consistent writing. But in our community, we ask our writers to write at least five to seven days out of every seven days, not to commit to writing every day.
At first I railed against the idea of taking days off. I figured we "should" all write 7 days per week (and you probably know how I feel about "shoulds" — they are big red flags).
But as we've been running the Called to Write community, I've discovered a few important things and changed my mind:
- Resting replenishes my creative well.
- If I take over one day off from writing per week, I have a much harder time getting started again.
- If I don't take off at least one day per week, I get rebellious and cranky and want to quit altogether.
- Writing every day makes me feel worn out. It's a grueling path. Marathon runners know the importance of rest days. And writing is certainly a marathon.
- Taking guilt-free, planned time away from writing keeps my mid-brain calm (that part of your brain that freaks out and puts you into fight-flight / procrastination mode) and allows me to subconsciously work on my project in my back-brain.
Certainly, you and I are different. For some people, writing (or working creatively) every day is a must. For me, it's a no-no.
Six days a week? Sure.
Seven, not so much. My biggest concern about the "don't break the chain" idea is that if we DO break the chain, it's far too easy to fall into the well of despair and struggle to get ourselves back out of it. I'd much rather plan a day off, almost like a "cheat day" with a diet, to keep me from getting mired in perfectionism, guilt, or shame.
What works
What does work for me is taking incremental steps to make lasting changes.
I like to identify my big vision, or my projects, like "rewriting my sci-fi script" or "losing 25 pounds." If I'm feeling really inspired, I might craft inspiring intention statements, like "I intend to knock this script out of the park" or "I intend to be feel great in my own skin."
But the most important step for me, as I mentioned above, is to come up with specific, frequent action steps and to work on "cracking my code" for overcoming my resistance to taking those steps.
Layering in new habits
I also like to "layer in" improvements.
An example?
Sure! Glad you asked.
When we started Called to Write, I focused first and only on building the habit of regular writing. I didn't worry about the quantity of words, or even quality. I also decided not to do more than one kind of habit-building at a time. So I focused on writing for 15 minutes a day, 6 days per week.
Approximately 4 months later, I layered in a new habit of exercising. Over the years, I've finally realized (aka cracked my code) that I won't work out unless 1) I'm paying someone to "watch" me do it, e.g. a trainer or in a paid class, 2) there's a specific schedule to do it, or 3) I'm already out of the house. So I hired someone to do Pilates with me on a weekly basis.
About 6 months after that, I added in time at the gym. At first I just aimed to go once per week. I figured out pretty quickly that I could put on my workout clothes, take my son to school, and then go right to the gym. I rearranged my schedule so I don't start coaching or working with anyone until 10:30 a.m. Pacific Time, which gives me plenty of time to get him to school, get in a good workout, and get back to my office in time to get started. I also set it up so I could do that five days per week and put two favorite movies (Star Trek 2009 and Serenity) on my iPhone so I can study them while I'm on the elliptical. Great motivation to get there.
It's easier once you build the habit
What fascinates me about this is something I talked about in my Creative Productivity teleclass series over the last couple of weeks: Once I got going, it was much easier to continue doing it than it was to stop. I'm now compelled to keep writing and to keep exercising, two of my biggest bugaboos over the last 20 years. The more you do it, the easier it is to keep going.
So what I like to do instead of all these resolutions and themes and chains is to come up with small, almost ridiculous steps that make it easy for me to do the thing I said I was going to do, a bit at a time, and to view it like a giant experiment, where I'm observing what worked and what didn't. One of our members says that our community is like being in our own laboratory, and we are the lab rats, experimenting on ourselves. It's a terrific analogy.
Warmly,
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by Jenna | Dec 12, 2012 | Writing Articles
If you have a dream to write or create, you probably have your sights set on the new year as a good time to recommit to your goal.
You probably also believe that once we've passed through the holiday ring of fire, you'll have cleared a lot of new space, time, and energy that has otherwise been occupied with shopping, events, and clearing your desk for the holidays.
Glorious guilt and procrastination
And, surprise, surprise, there do tend to be a few glorious days in January of peace and quiet... but usually with the essence of guilt and procrastination swirling around the edges.
Because even though you've promised yourself you'll get started right away on your writing or art or dream, you don't.
It's not what you think it is
But don't feel guilty. It's completely normal. You see, once you actually have that big block of time you've been longing for, the raw, naked fear comes bounding in and masquerades as wanting to sleep in or take some time off after all the hubbub. What's wrong with that? "Yeah, I know I said I would write today but it's new year's day and I just want to get a little more sleep. I just want to spend the day relaxing for a change."
It looks like needing time off (and you probably do actually need it) but it's really fear.
Here's the thing
(And, yes, we've talked about this before.)
Resistance comes up around anything worth doing.
We tend to recommit -- at least mentally -- to the concept of doing those things in the form of new year's resolutions.
Guess what?
Those resolutions trigger even more resistance.
Which leads to more distractions, and smokescreens, and procrastination. And stress. And self-doubt.
No more stories
There's ALWAYS something.
Always.
So.
How about instead of making resolutions, we decide to make new life decisions about setting ourselves up for a long-term, sustainable, regular practice of our art? No more grand sweeping gestures and big talk but instead an actual realistic, attainable plan to take small, daily actions to move you toward your goal?
For instance:
- If you want to write, commit to writing for 15 minutes a day.
- If you want to move your business forward, commit to doing the hardest tasks first (usually marketing, right?), for 15 minutes a day, every day.
- If you want to paint, set yourself up so that you can paint a little bit every day. Use the two-second rule to make sure your watercolors and sketchbook are close to hand.
Find the smallest increment of absolutely do-able, sustainable, accomplishment you know you can meet, and commit only to that, nothing more. If you find yourself not doing it, make it smaller. And let me know how it goes.
Warmly,
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by Jenna | Dec 5, 2012 | Writing Articles
A few weeks ago I wrote a post about “the end of the world as we know it.”
So many people’s lives are shifting in difficult, challenging ways right now. I do feel like we’re starting to come out the other side of it, though, don’t you?
I’m reminded that even when things look disastrous, beneficial change is usually occurring.
Somehow this will all work out
When it’s happening in my own life, I like to say, “Somehow this will all work out, even if I can’t see how yet.” I believe in myself and my ability to make good, long-term choices for myself, and to get the help I need to see myself through difficult times, so even when it feels like things will be tanking forever, I remember that somehow I’ll see it through.
The right and perfect path
When it’s happening in someone else’s life, and it looks like they are crashing and burning, I hold out the same kind of hope. I believe that they are on their right and perfect path, when even from the outside it looks like a train wreck. Rather than staring overly at the debris or trying to fix it for them, I do my best to view their situation from a place of higher, spiritual respect that they are doing the best they consciously know how to handle their situations.
Love them through it
Certainly their choices may impact my own decisions about how, when, and if I choose to interact with them. I may even choose not to have them in my life any longer, but I can still view them, their lives, and choices with compassion.
So as we see our loved ones losing relationships, not living their dreams, sabotaging their lives, or just plain going through a rough patch, remember to love them through it.
As you see yourself struggling with painful emotions and circumstances, love yourself through it too.
Notice your capacity for compassion
The challenges I have been through myself this year, too numerous to count, have vastly increased my capacity for compassion and understanding for others. At least for me, that’s what this “whole 2012 thing” has been about.
What about you? What do you notice about your own capacity for compassion?
Warmly,
by Jenna | Nov 28, 2012 | Writing Articles
Accomplishment amnesia is a common ailment that strikes many of us, particularly those of us that are highly conscientious, responsible, talented, and highly sensitive. It seems to run in parallel with these traits.
What is accomplishment amnesia?
Accomplishment amnesia occurs when we get so busy meeting our obligations and moving on to the “next thing” that we quickly forget what we’ve done in the past (however distant or recent) that has value.
I find this malady particularly comes up when we get into a place of self-doubt — we can’t remember a single thing we’ve done or accomplished. We feel useless, talentless, valueless.
We might even feel creatively blocked or numb because we are devaluing the work we’ve done but are not appreciating.
A darn good job
I’ve been going through a rough patch lately, and I noticed recently that as I’ve been starting to feel better, I’ve been berating myself for not having done more lately. “Why am I so behind? How have I let things get like this?”
I stopped myself and noticed what was really going on: I had accomplishment amnesia.
I quickly reminded myself of all the personal challenges I’ve faced over the last couple of months, including having surgery on my wrist, and shifted the conversation to noticing what I have done: filed my taxes, settled a car accident claim, dealt with an intensely difficult emotional time, never missed writing a blog post, coached my clients, continued running my writing community, and carried on writing my screenplay no matter what. Wow! I’ve accomplished a lot under very difficult circumstances.
Sure, there’s more, there always is. But look at what I’ve done!
Does this happen for you too?
Most of my clients have this kind of accomplishment amnesia. They’re so focused on what they haven’t done, that they forget to celebrate what they have.
Here’s how you can start to shift out of this delusion that you haven’t done anything worthwhile:
1. Catch accomplishment amnesia early.
When you notice yourself falling into the pattern (like I did), stop and take stock. Is it really true that you haven’t been doing enough? Take a few minutes to review what you actually have done. You’ll be surprised.
2. Don’t buy into the standard definitions of success and accomplishment.
Don’t limit yourself to society’s success definitions. Instead, think about what you’re proud of. Create your own definition of what it means to be successful.
Just yesterday, some of my writing pals and I were discussing what it means to claim the title of “writer.” Many of us are discovering it has much less to do with being a published or sold writer (though many of us are striving for those), and everything to do with showing up and doing the writing regularly — having a writing practice.
3. Set small milestones.
Increase your sense of accomplishment by setting and celebrating small milestones as you attain them. Instead of only celebrating when you complete the book, whoop it up for every chapter. Then when you do hit the finish line, make sure you celebrate that point too.
I’m rewriting my screenplay using Chris Soth’s “Mini Movie Method,” which lends itself nicely to this sort of milestone assessment. Every 15 pages I complete another mini-movie, so it’s easy to create a sense of accomplishment as I go.
Look for similar small milestones in your own work.
4. Celebrate your accomplishments in the moment.
I watched a fun video of Tamara Ireland Stone, author of the young adult book, Time Between Us,* which I just finished reading and very much enjoyed. She had just received her box of copies of her book and made a point to celebrate with her husband and friend and glass of wine. I hope she’ll do the same for every future book as well.
When you do have an accomplishment, STOP what you’re doing and celebrate. Build the muscles of appreciation for yourself and your work.
5. Create a “brag book.”
I’ve forgotten where I first heard this term, but the idea is to create a scrap book of your accomplishments so that you can go back and remind yourself, “Yes, I’ve done some amazing, wonderful things.” And you have. Include anything and everything you can think of that you’ve accomplished. On my list: birthing my son, finishing my first screenplay, completing graduate school and earning two master’s degrees, nurturing an incredible friendship with my best friend, becoming a certified life coach, etc.
Bottom line
It’s all too easy to think of ourselves as never reaching the finish line when there’s always so much more to do. Rather than thinking you’ll never get there, remember to enjoy what you’re doing along the way. It’s the journey, after all, that counts.
by Jenna | Nov 21, 2012 | Writing Articles
Over the last few weeks I've been writing about creative depletion and the cycle of creative burnout, and creating a cycle of creative renewal.
Today it's time to talk about recovering from creative burnout.
As I said to one of my Called to Write members once, it's a matter of rebuilding trust with yourself and coaxing yourself back to the table.
So how do we do that?
7 recovery steps
1. First, acknowledge the exhaustion and aversion to the work that's developed.
It's real. It's normal, and it's totally understandable.
Burnout happens from pushing ourselves too hard for too long and expecting that creative well to remain topped off. Doesn't happen.
2. Next, make a plan for recovery that includes down time.
...even if it's in the smallest of moments every day. Give yourself permission to close your eyes in a comfortable chair for a few moments allows your mind to let go, and relax. You're exhausted, you need to rest.
Ideally, you'll also want to schedule some full days off -- and vacations, if possible -- where you do nothing that's not just for you. Over the last month, I've taken two full days, mid-week, just to put my feet up and watch movies, eat great food, get some body work done, and saunter through the day at my own pace.
In other words, go for full out indulgence from time-to-time. You'll work harder, better, and faster, when you're rested. Not before.
3. When you feel ready, remind yourself why you love your craft.
Just today I was watching some clips from my favorite show ever, Firefly, and felt an upwelling of inspiration and passion come surging back through me.
You do love this work, you've just temporarily forgotten why.
Figure out what your jump-starts are, and go back to them when you need one.
4. Don't expect new ideas to come flowing back to you immediately.
Give yourself time and space to recovery, trusting that your creativity will return. Remember: you're not blocked, you're exhausted.
When my writers don't know what to write and don't have ideas flowing, I encourage them to start with a practice of morning pages (Julia Cameron's book The Artist's Way* is the seminal book on the subject).
5. Find ways to regain your inspiration.
Go on "Artist's Dates" (again, see The Artist's Way*), take yourself out for walks, movies, book signings, and speaking events. Consider attending events that have nothing to do with your craft. It's amazing how other topics, knowledge, and ideas can reignite your own originality.
6. When you feel ready, make a baby steps plan to get back on track with your work.
At Called to Write, we recommend working in the smallest possible increment of time that you know without question, that you will actually do. It's okay if it seems ridiculously easy (that's the point, in fact). You'll slowly build back up to more over time.
7. Give thought to how to prevent burnout next time.
In other words, plan ahead. Learn how to pace yourself properly and deal with the natural resistance and procrastination that comes up around creative work so that you don't put yourself right back where you've started.
If you do get into a situation where you'll be pushing to meet a deadline, think about how you can counter-balance the effort on the other side.
The bottom line
Creative recovery requires patience, permission, and a great deal of self-care. You, and your work, deserve it. Please give it to yourself.
Warmly,
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