Making decisions that matter

Making decisions that matter

I’ve got decision making on my mind. 

Last week I wrote about how there’s always something that will get in the way of our dreams — if we let it. I’ve been hearing from a number of people that they just don’t have time to take action on their dream, whether it’s a business or a creative venture. 

Another vein of excuses runs along the lines of not being ready, needing more training, or having to “get through” something first.

I’ve said all those things myself at one time or another.

The key to making a change is making a decision

A “Life Decision” as Dr. Phil calls it — a life changing, unalterable decision that you know you won’t go back on.

This is not the same as “trying.”

It’s not the same as “seeing how it goes.”

It means making an unequivocal decision to take a course of action because you are determined to make a change.

These aren’t decisions that come along frequently. They are LIFE decisions, after all.

Life decisions

Life decisions involve commitment to a way of being and a sense of identity, combined with taking powerful action.  

Two examples:

1. When I quit smoking (I can’t believe I used to smoke either) I made a decision that I would never, ever smoke a cigarette again. I had been through too many instances of quitting and learned first hand that it was such a slippery slope for me that the only way to guarantee that I wouldn’t backslide was to vow never to do it again. I could feel the strength of that decision in my bones the  moment I made it. That was in 1993. I haven’t smoked since and I never will.

2. When I founded my writing community and made a decision to think of myself as a writer, I also made a life decision. It’s not that I hadn’t been writing before — but this time I made a conscious choice to pursue writing like my life depended on it. To that end, I write 6 days a week, and I refuse to stop.

The power of decisions

I’ve seen the power of decisions first hand, particularly with my writing community members. Decisions change their lives. Those that make a decision to write and to use the system succeed. Those that sign up, but don’t make that decision — that soul-level commitment, don’t. The system can help motivate you, but it can’t make the decision for you.

The same is true with any diet, program, or system, isn’t it? The decision to get something out of it — to be all in — it’s yours, isn’t it?

On the subject of decisions

Chris Guillebeau recently wrote a great post about decisions that I think you’ll like — and make sure you also read his article about how NOT to make decisions, while you’re at it.

Warmly,

 Jenna

There’s always something

There’s always something

A lesson I’ve been talking about lately is that excuses are endless and there is ALWAYS something that will get in the way of fulfilling your calling — if you let it.

I can’t tell you how many people I’ve heard from who say they will pursue their big dream — but later…

When they have more time.

When they aren’t so busy.

When things settle back down.

After they file their taxes, or finish their remodel project, or …

After the kids die

Have you seen that joke about the couple who goes to get divorced in their 90s? When asked why they waited so long, they respond, “We had to wait until the kids died.”

It’s a great reminder of the way we fool ourselves into waiting.

News flash: This is it!

Unless something truly extreme is going on (you’re in the hospital, a close relative just died, you just had a baby, etc.), nothing is ever going to change. There will ALWAYS be something.

Even worse: you’re doing it to yourself.

The sooner you accept that and make time for your big dream, no matter what, the happier you are going to be.

It doesn’t have to be a lot

Don’t fool yourself about what it takes either. The brilliance of the writing community that we can translate for anyone — writer or not — is the power of incremental, cumulative progress. If you’re telling yourself that you’ve got to have big chunks of time to get your life’s work done, I say, bull shit.

All it takes is a little bit of time, every day.

In my writing community, I was thrilled to see one of the writers — who was writing for just 5 minutes a day — say that she believes in herself as a writer again.

You can have that too — if you’re willing to give it to yourself.

And I know you can.

What are you telling yourself about why you can’t take action on your big dream?

See that for what it is, and put your energy where your heart is.

It’s worth it.

 

Going pro

Going pro

Over the last week, I’ve seen a lot of conversation about being professional. In part this was from a writer’s perspective, but it also came up in the broader context of reading Steven Pressfield’s new book, Turning Pro: Tap Your Inner Power and Create Your Life’s Work, which is a book for “artists, entrepreneurs, and athletes whose ambition is … to pursue their heart’s calling and make it work.”

If I had to pick one role model to follow, I’d be hard pressed not to choose Steven Pressfield. He’s inspiring, practical, and amazing, and a man after my own heart. If I stand for anything, it’s about helping you get out of your own way and do what you were put here to do.

Do the work

What I love about Steven’s work is that he doesn’t say that it will be easy, that you should do what you love and the money will follow, or any of that.

What he says, instead, is that doing the work is hard. That we have to face our fears everyday and get our butts in our seats no matter what to do the work — whatever it is.

Passion is a misnomer

I also read yesterday that passion is a misnomer (I’ve written about this subject before myself). In this guest essay, Joshua Fields Millburn points out:

“Just because you’re passionate about something doesn’t mean you’ll enjoy every aspect of it.

“In fact, I’ve found the opposite to to be true. While writing my first masterpiece, Falling While Sitting Down, it was a miserable experience 80% of the time. Seriously, much of the time I wanted to put my head through a wall. But the other 20% was magical and exciting and made all the suffering and drudgery well worth it.

“The key is pushing through the tedium of the 80%, so you can find the beauty beneath the banality; it’s there, plentiful in that remaining 20%. You have to tolerate the pain, if you want to pursue your dream.”

Turning pro means being a grown up

When I talked with Elaine yesterday about writing, we agreed with Joshua. Pursuing anything meaningful is hard, a lot of the time. It takes being a grown up and facing the hard sucky parts to get to the other side of completion. It means surfing the waves of pain and self-doubt, sitting on the throne of agony, and doing the work.

It’s time we started telling the truth about that.

Remember, even Ray Kinsella went through his own kind of hell before people came to his field of dreams.

What if we loved even the crummy parts?

And while it’s tempting to pursue one’s calling with the focus on the magical 20% — the epiphanies, sudden insights, and flashy Elvis moments — I can’t help wondering, isn’t it worth it to enjoy ALL of it?

Someone asked me recently, “What’s your story of ‘turning pro?'”

Here’s my answer: The day I turned pro with my writing was the day that I realized that if someone offered me $10,000,000 with the condition that I could never write again, I would turn them down. I knew with incredible conviction that I want to write — I must write — and I will allow nothing to stop me. Not even the bad days where I think I can’t write myself out of a shoebox let alone put a whole script together.

Now the only questions about my writing are: What to write, what to write next, and how to make my writing better and hone my craft. And then what to write after that.

That was the day I turned pro.

When you just can’t do anything else

Steven Pressfield tells a similar story. He talks about how despite his doubts and failures, he knew that he simply couldn’t do anything else but write, and when he tried anything else, he couldn’t stand it. So he had no choice but to keep writing. And he did.

I’m with him.

Bottom line

There’s an idea out there about making “life decisions.” These are unalterable, no-turning-back decisions where you are all in. To me, that’s what it means to turn pro. What about you?

Warmly,

 Jenna

Failure, Zombies, Systems, and Steven Pressfield

Failure, Zombies, Systems, and Steven Pressfield

I was emailing with a beloved client this week who was concerned about setting herself up for failure by taking on something she might not be ready for.

I said, "It's not about failing or not failing, it's about learning what works for you and what doesn't, and refining until it does."

She made a great choice to take a midway step toward the thing she was considering. 

In the meantime, our conversation got me thinking about failure and our relationship to it.

The Payoff of Incapacity

Then today I started reading Steven Pressfield's new book, Turning Pro: Tap Your Inner Power and Create Your Life's Work. (If you haven't read his stuff, don't wait. He's amazing.) He says:

"There's a difference between failing (which is a natural and normal part of life) and being addicted to failure. When we're addicted to failure, we enjoy it. Each time we fail, we are secretly relieved."

He argues that when you remain addicted to failure you allow yourself to indulge in the "payoff of incapacity." And what's the payoff there? Leaving your talents "unexplored, untried, and unrealized."

And doesn't that make sense?

Let's face it, fulfilling your dreams is wickedly terrifying. What if you do fail? What if you can't rise to the challenge?

It's safer not to try. Easier to stay addicted to failure.

But you don't really want to be a zombie, right?

To me, the risk of not trying is much more costly.

Our culture is filled with shadow people -- speaking of zombies, these are the real walking dead -- never pursuing their hopes and dreams, selling out for the American dream and not living their own.

We pay with our souls when we don't do our Work.

Edison Knew Better

In various online sources, the numbers differ about exactly how many times Thomas Edison failed when he attempted to make a light bulb, but there is agreement on one thing: He made so many attempts that most of us would have given up long before he did. LONG before.

His take on the situation was to say that he had not failed, but rather proven that all those other methods did not work.

Design Better Experiments

Which takes me back to my client and the principle I shared with her.

When we choose to see our "failures" as failed experiments, we can design new ones, and see what works better.

Create Better Systems

For example, I have been terrible about filing for years. On Monday it dawned on me that I simply need a better system and that I haven't completely finished designing that system. I've worked on it, it's better, but it isn't done. That's all. It's not that I'm a bad person or even bad at filing, it's that I don't have a workable system yet.

Look at What's Not Working

As another example, at one point I had a bad system for paying my team too. They would email me their invoices and I would procrastinate about paying them. It wasn't that I didn't want to, it was that it seemed overwhelming. Sometimes I'd even be worried the invoices would be too high. I'd have to force myself to download and open their invoices, figure out how much I owed them, write the checks, address the envelopes, get them in the mail, etc. I'd do it, but it felt like pulling teeth. I was often late.

Needless to say, no one was very happy about it, so we came up with a new system.

My team members now put their invoice numbers and amounts due in the subject lines of their email messages to me. At a glance, I know exactly how much I owe them. We also made an agreement that I'd pay them no later than 2 days after I receive their invoices. And they all send them on a specific day every other week. I also have sheet of pre-printed address labels for each of them ready to go.

Now, when the time comes, I just whip out my checkbook, write out the checks, drop them in the self-sealing envelopes, decorate them with the address labels and stamps and voilà. Done.

Something I used to dread has become simple and doable, just because I took the time to create a system for it.

This Works for the Big Stuff too

When it comes to the big stuff, your Work, this works too.

For example, if you want to build your business, but you're not taking steps each day to do that, look at what's getting in the way and what you're doing instead.

If you want to write but you think you don't have the time, look -- really, truly LOOK -- at what you're doing with with your time.

If you want to put yourself out there for speaking gigs, getting more clients, doing more art, or going on more auditions, look at what you're doing, or not doing, to make that happen.

Then create a system to help you overcome the roadblocks you're unwittingly putting in your own way.

Bottom Line

The beauty of taking time to really LOOK at where your systems are breaking down -- at where you are "failing" -- is that it can make a huge difference in your sense of accomplishment and belief in yourself. Which is so worth the investment.

 

A Letter to Ray Bradbury

A Letter to Ray Bradbury

Dear Mr. Bradbury,

Thank you.

Thank you for touching my heart and opening my eyes. For seeing me in ways I didn't yet understand in my younger years. For showing me new worlds and new ways of seeing our world.

So many of your stories will be forever etched into my consciousness...

The tale of the man who drowned himself in the endless rain of Venus, "sitting on a rock with his head back, breathing the rain."

The April witch, Cecy, who could flit from being to being but longed to fall in love, even if it meant giving up her powers.

The mechanical house dying after a nuclear holocaust, shadows of its family etched against its blackened siding, calling out the date and time to no one as it burned.

The Martian -- the chameleon -- who changed to be who others longed for and died in the maelstrom of their conflicting desires.

And the Rocket Man who died when his rocket fell into the sun, just when he had promised his family to stay home with them after one last trip.

Heart-breaking. Truthful. Painful. Gorgeous. Raw. Philosophical.

Your passionate commitment to envisioning the future has changed many lives for the better.

Your words made me think.

They made me feel.

I thank you.

 

Photo taken by Will Hart, used with permission under Creative Commons licensing

Jenna Avery
Privacy Overview

This website uses cookies so that we can provide you with the best user experience possible. Cookie information is stored in your browser and performs functions such as recognising you when you return to our website and helping our team to understand which sections of the website you find most interesting and useful.

You can review our cookie policy here - Cookie Policy