by Jenna | Oct 24, 2012 | Writing Articles
I had a lovely chat with a friend recently about applying to a school program she's interested in. She confessed that even though she very much wanted to attend the school, she hadn't yet completed the application.
Ah!
That familiar friend: Procrastination.
Why do we procrastinate about things that are important to us?
Why is that when it comes time to do the hard work, whether it's taking action on our businesses, filing important paperwork, writing that longed for novel or script, or making time for our art, we stall?
I mean, sure, it's hard, but we've also said how important it is to us. We've spent money on classes, books, training, and support. We've written it into our schedules. It's clearly a priority for us, right?
So why so much talk and not so much action?
It's the size of the dream that matters.
I'll say that again: It's the size of the dream that matters.
The more important something is to you, the more fear, procrastination, and resistance you experience. In fact, the level of fear you feel seems to be directly proportional to the size of the dream.
Perhaps even a little bigger, just for good measure.
"The more we care about something, the more we dream, the more fear shows up."
~ Robert Maurer, author of One Small Step Can Change Your Life: The Kaizen Way
The problem: We're wired to shut down in the face of fear.
The fact that our brains are wired to shut down in the face of fear is what creates the entire conundrum in the first place.
As Robert Maurer describes in One Small Step Can Change Your Life: The Kaizen Way, when our brains go into fight-or-flight mode, our frontal cortex -- our thinking, rational brain -- is automatically shut off so that we can respond appropriately and quickly to the threat at hand. This is a natural response to fear. Unfortunately, our mid-brains, home to the amygdala that governs the fight-or-flight response, can't differentiate between the fear that comes up when we're confronted with a tiger or when we're contemplating completing the next great opus.
And so suddenly your thinking, rational and creative brain is completely turned off . . . which when you're attempting to create and design new business ideas or a screenplay, isn't so helpful.
The good news
The good news is that when you can learn to expect the fear to show up, you can normalize it and make it okay. Then it's easier to be compassionate with yourself and coax yourself through the tasks at hand.
I've learned to recognize my own resistance routine and treat it like a familiar visitor I know how to handle.
I tell myself, "It's okay, I know you're scared, you can do this anyway." And I do.
It helps that I make a point to tackle things in small pieces, just the way Maurer recommends: "Small, easily achievable goals -- such as picking up and storing just one paper clip on a chronically messy desk -- let you tiptoe right past the amygdala, keeping it asleep and unable to set off alarm bells."
This is why, even on really tough days, you'll still find me writing at least 15 minutes a day on my screenplay, six days a week, no matter what.
The really good news?
The more work you do in small steps, the more your brain gets rewired with new neural pathways and new habits, making resistance so much easier to overcome.
Warmly,
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by Jenna | Oct 17, 2012 | Writing Articles
I’ve been writing a lot about staying on course and listening to our own inner guidance about what we’re passionate about and called to take action on. Today’s post ventures a little father afield into a broader context I’m noticing for so many people right now: radically changing circumstances. Enjoy.
I’ve been interested in the idea of the world “ending” in 2012. Curious, waiting to see what will really happen, and anticipating something along the lines of Y2K.
In other words, not much.
My sense has always been that if December 2012 truly is the “end of the world,” that it would more likely be “The end of the world as we know it,” meaning that things will change radically and significantly as we pass through the final months of 2012… perhaps even being so lucky as to emerge into a new state of higher consciousness as some of the spiritual leaders suggest due to some kind of major world-wide changes or events.
That seems like a good thing. I’m down with it.
As I’ve observed this year unfolding however, I’ve been caught off guard by the way this massive change is playing out. I’d expected to see it on global scale, but instead (at least so far) I’m seeing big shifts on a very personal scale.
So many people around me are experiencing sudden, sweeping change. Their loved ones are dying or being diagnosed with major illnesses. Relationships are crumbling apart and unexpected truths are being revealed. So much is happening and so many people are affected and in crisis. Even people who seem “immune” because their lives appear fairly stable are getting unexpected phone calls that send their lives spiraling in entirely new directions.
It has happened for me too: Over the last 2 months, my personal life has been changed in an entirely unexpected way. I believe it will ultimately be all to the good — and — it’s been darn hard going through it.
It feels like the world is being adjusted — everything that doesn’t support us is being changed or let go of — in a radical, unalterable way.
I think I’m seeing “the end of the world as we know it” unfolding before my very eyes.
My world has certainly been irrevocably changed.
So has my best friend’s life. So has my cousin’s, my sister’s, and my friend’s life. So many changes are happening every day and everywhere.
Surprisingly, I feel 100 times stronger than I ever have before.
My resolve to keep writing no matter what has been astounding, and gratifying.
My sense of commitment to myself has been deeply reaffirmed.
It isn’t easy.
There are hard days and easier days.
But I have this sense that we’ll ALL get to the other side of this challenging time stronger, more connected, and more whole.
Warmly,
by Jenna | Oct 10, 2012 | Writing Articles
I’ve learned to closely examine my tripping points to look for solutions.
By tripping points I mean the places in my routine where I fail to see something through to completion, whether it’s a household task, a writing project, or a personal phone call I’m just not making.
Tripping points can occur at any point in the continuum of a project or task, from start to finish.
Tripping points lead to incompletion
As I’ve studied my own process and observed my clients as well, what I’ve found is that we collectively have a tendency to either skip over key steps or fail to think through the full process.
Both of these have the same result: incompletion.
Find a higher thought
I think the inception of this exploration began back in my 20s when I was working with a therapist and I used to write my checks to her at the end of the session. There was always an awkward moment, waiting for me to do so. One day she said to me, “Other clients write out checks in advance.”
It was a new thought, something I hadn’t considered. I even realized that I was drawing out the time with her by waiting to write the checks at the end. I vowed to change my pattern right away. From that day forward, I always arrived with check in hand and had the matter settled from the start.
The tiniest things make a big difference
When it comes to getting things done, I’ve learned that the tiniest things make a big difference many times over. With my writing, for example, if the computer is right next to me when I wake up, I’m much more likely to work on my script right away — particularly if I’ve closed my email program before lights out the night before.
Mind you, I’m not always perfect about everything (thank goodness, or my inner rebel would freak out) but it’s highly useful to know the tricks that will get me into action. That said, I still have some lingering items (that darn video!) that need work.
The 2 second rule
I read recently (I wish I could remember where, if you know please tell me) about a guy who wanted to read more but was always turning on the television instead of picking up a book. His solution was to take the batteries out of his television remote control, making it just that much harder (2 seconds harder) to turn on the TV — and he found himself reading a lot more.
I’ve seen writers in my writing community do similar things — making sure their writing materials are at the ready so that when they wake up, it’s easy to get started.
I’ve heard about a virtual assistant who keeps post-it notes on her fridge to track her hours and to do items so it’s extra easy to jot it down rather than having to dig out her work notebook.
I keep magnetic note pads on my refrigerator and have a system for keeping my pantry filled: If something gets taken out of the pantry, it goes on the list. We always have an extra bottle of ketchup that way. (Good thing with little kids around, and in earthquake country to boot.)
by Jenna | Sep 26, 2012 | Writing Articles
In the world of coaching, particularly in career and entrepreneurial coaching, much emphasis is put on the question of what you are passionate about.
It's a direct result of the "do what you love and the money will follow" paradigm.
I've written before (here) about why I think this is the wrong question to be focused on.
So many of us are so deeply out of touch with ourselves that we feel passionless, and quite frankly, being asked to name what we are passionate about can create a heightened sense of despair and confusion.
I've also submitted to you that you must rather find the things you believe in beyond reason, the dreams that make you cry when you merely contemplate making them real, the visions that humble you with their enormity when you consider the possibility that YOU might be capable of creating them.
When you still don't know?
What do you do when you STILL don't know what that thing is?
You listen.
You listen to the voice of your soul. You listen for those little whispers and nudges that tell you exactly what you are supposed to be doing. And then you do it.
Mind you, those nudges won't be loud. But they will be consistent. You just have to pay attention. Then take action.
Case in point
I have wanted to write for years. Years! And I've been "writing," because I've been blogging, writing articles, and creating programs for the last 10 years (oh, hey! I just realized that August was my 10th year in business, I'll have to come up with a way to celebrate). But I haven't been writing on the level that I've truly wanted to -- longer, deeper writing projects.
Finally, I started taking that voice seriously. I realized that I didn't need to close my business to write, I didn't need to become suddenly independently wealthy, and I didn't need someone to wave their magic wand and give me permission to write. I just needed to do it.
In fact, when this came to head for me was when I had been repeatedly asking my Essential Self for guidance. "What do I need to do? What's in my highest and best interest? What will make me happy?" I was asking, over and over again. The message came back, clearly. She said, "Write like your life depends on it."
It STILL took me a while to get it. To understand that I didn't need to radically change my life (see above) in order to "be able" to write. I just had to do it.
Then came the passion
Miraculously, once I began writing, I discovered a shocking, all-consuming fierce passion for it I did not know I had.
In fact, despite the days when writing feels impossibly difficult, no fun at all, and my inner critic is raging at me like a blue meanie on steroids, I still absolutely adore it.
The weirdest part of all of this is that the passion did not kick in, not truly, until I was well into writing regularly -- truly DOING IT -- day in and day out.
It's led me to believe that passion follows action, not the other way around.
But I add this caveat: The action must be inspired -- it must come from the voice of your soul.
by Jenna | Sep 5, 2012 | Reflections
When times get rough and things go wrong, sometimes I wonder if I’ve misread my intuition or why I wasn’t “warned.”
I don’t have an answer for the warnings, exactly. When my friend was in a bad motorcycle accident years ago, I had a strong sense of anxiety all day before I found out what happened. When I was in a car accident a few years ago, though, I had no hints there was anything wrong that day.
And was there anything wrong? It’s hard for me to answer that too. Does being intuitive mean we are always “saved” from challenging and painful experiences? When I think about it from a soul perspective, I have to say: I doubt it. My personal belief system tells me that we “sign up” for life experiences that as spiritual beings in human form we want to judge as right or wrong, good or bad. Perhaps from a soul perspective, these experiences are purely neutral, and designed for growth.
I’m reminded of Sandra Ingerman’s Shamanic Journeying book, where she asked her higher self in fear, “But what if I end up homeless?” Her higher self’s response? “Wouldn’t that be interesting?”
And perhaps we just don’t always get to know.
Is there such a thing as “right” or “wrong”?
And, what if there is no right or wrong? What if life just is, and our intuition is our guide to a more joyful experience of life — but one that isn’t necessarily always easier? Is life truly a school ground designed for us to learn and grow, whether it’s hard or easy or fun?
It’s impossible to know.
We have experience
We do, however, have experience.
We have the experience of suddenly knowing something, without knowing why we know it.
We see flashes of images or hear sudden phrases, like the day I was driving by the hospital while I was pregnant and thought, “That’s where my son will be born” — EVEN THOUGH I was planning a home birth.
Do we listen?
Which brings me to my point:
When I had that thought, I very quickly thought, “No, that can’t be right. I’m not having my baby there.” And I didn’t stop to explore that intuitive (and ultimately correct) insight to understand it. Similarly, when my friend was in the motorcycle accident, I didn’t take the time to tune in to my anxiety and understand it. It was only after the fact that I understood it.
My truest experience of intuition is that it’s a very quiet knowing thought or glimmer of an idea — a whisper — and easy to overlook if I don’t discipline myself to pay attention. I like to think I’m getting better at this, but I’m continually reminded that there are more opportunities to listen.
