by Jenna | Mar 26, 2011 | Reflections
My dad apparently started a topic about me and my old job flipping hot dogs on his Cal Sports website last year and I thought it was funny enough to warrant sharing with you.
It’s true: I used to run a top dog in Montclair (Oakland, California).
It was pretty much the antithesis of the textbook job for a sensitive soul — loud, busy, rushed, etc — but I have to say, I loved it. Plus it was so good for me — it helped me find my voice and learn how to manage a crowd. The job consisted of taking hot dog and soda orders from a busy crowd of customers, yelling at the top of my lungs to coordinate all their requests and money and everything, and trying to keep a jam-packed grill of orders straight in my head. Crazy fun. :)
(N.B. The names listed here are the user names they all use on the sports forums. My dad is GreyBear. I’ve edited the thread a bit for relevance.)
“My daughter – Top Dog Manager”
GreyBea: Years ago – [she] ran the whole store, managed employees, cooked dogs, etc. Could we maybe start a draft movement to get her to run a concession at Cal/Memorial? That’s the one sure way I know to get the kind of dogs we all want to have available there.
(Investors needed.)
(She won’t do it.)
KoreAmBear: I’d be interested in investing. Congrats GB. Someone who can run a food business is someone who can make things happen. [Editor’s note: so true!] So you’re talking about after the remodel? That would be stinkin’ cool.
OneTopOneChickenApple: Will it still be $3 a dog?
Calumnus: I’d love to be involved. Great dogs and the best non-alcoholic beer we can find.
OneTopOneChickenApple: Greybear is The Man. Direct Hotline to Athletic Department and Top Dog and BearInsider boss. Count me in too, although I may only be able to invest in napkin and ketchup packet supplies.
sctawndawg: I wont invest any money but ill buy a few hot dogs every other year when SC goes up north to beat you guys.
GB54: Your daughter must have developed a lot of skills you don’t learn in books. I’ve always wondered how they hire these guys who can remember and have 58 orders going.
FremontBear: If your daughter ran Top Dog, then sight unseen, she’s better than the outfit running Memorial concessions. Ten bucks for a Polish and a drink??? Costco sells that combo for $1.50! I don’t mind Cal sports make good prfits, but at least give me the illusion my $10 is actually not that bad a ripoff. What kinds of numbers are we talking about as investment…?
GB54: Hell, if she was a top dog manager she’d be wasted in Memorial. I’d put her in charge of the Afghanistan war.
FremontBear: And the Federal Reserve too!
by Jenna | Mar 8, 2011 | Reflections
Yesterday I went to an art store on an Artist’s Way-style Artist Date.
I found myself in tears over a 28″ x something stretched canvas that made me remember how much I’ve always wanted to try oil painting. I walked away from it quickly and then turned to go back to see what else there was to “see.”
I remembered my old boyfriend who was a “real” artist (Julia Cameron says shadow artists like to hang out with real artists and project their creativity onto their partners. Um. Here!).
I remembered how he had painted a picture of the girl he was cheating on me with and tried to pretend that it was just a gift for a friend.
On a similar piece of canvas.
I remembered how he had made me a painting a long time before I and I hadn’t liked it and didn’t know what to do about it. He never did give it to me, and I never did know how to handle it.
Double ouch.
And then the tears spiked again over a beautiful “artist’s marker pad” that was a perfect vehicle for the diagrams I’ve been wanting to do. (I brought it home.)
As I walked through the aisles of the art store, I was reminded of all the delicious art tools I already own, but that have been untouched for so long.
I wondered why I stopped doing the watercolors that delighted me so much once upon a time. Did I stop simply because I stopped traveling overseas so often? Had I lost the connection because I’d given up urban design work? Did it just start to feel too much like work?
All around the store I found reminders of my past creative endeavors (fabric dyeing, rug making, drafting and tracing, portfolios, yummy art supply containers) and so many possible future adventures. I thought about how I couldn’t afford to buy all the supplies so there was no point in learning a new craft.
But I also considered how much I love learning the tools of my craft — whatever it is — designing, drafting, drawing, coaching, website making — I am such the perpetual student. A true renaissance soul (or “scanner”). And how I wished I could just simply be a perpetual student (oh, wait a minute, I kind of already am) with a patron who wanted to sponsor all my wild ideas and wonderful projects (well, not so much that part, at least not yet).
Whilst all this transpired, I continued a conversation I’ve been having with myself for the past few days.
If I love what I do, will I love it ALL the time?
Will it ALWAYS feel easy and like I can’t wait to leap out of bed in the morning?
My screenwriting teacher often spoke of the pain of writing, the loneliness of it. That it would feel like swimming in a vast sea, just trying to get to the next “tent pole” in a script as if it were a buoy you could grab hold of to save you from drowning.
There are days when writing feels like a wretched chore. When it feels like I’ll never (ever) succeed at it, that my work will never be any good, and my ideas are not clever or brilliant enough.
But if they are my ideas, are they not enough? Isn’t it enough to write what I’ve been given, unleash my creativity as far as I can and hope for the best?
I look for where my fear comes up biggest and loudest, and go there. Is that always going to feel easy and flowing and delightful? I doubt it.
At the same time, there are days when writing feels like the most precious gift I’ve ever experienced.
A freedom to put words on the page and become one with them in the most amazing discovery of story and flow and ideas and energy that I’ve ever seen.
I figure there are good days and there are hard days.
by Jenna | Jan 25, 2011 | Writing Articles
I’ve had this post title in mind for about 6 or 7 years, inspired by a conversation then with a long-time favorite colleague. Now is apparently just the right time to share it. :)
At the time, we were wrestling with the concepts of being unscheduled and unstructured to stay in the intuitive flow and to follow the energy of what was coming up. We were also talking about not wanting to feel limited by “defining” a niche. My friend didn’t want to be tied down by “focus and structure and goals.” As she said it, an “Oh My!” popped involuntarily from my mouth, à la The Wizard of Oz. We both laughed.
Structure Can Feel Like Death
To an intuitive, right-brained, creative genius, setting up schedules and picking goals can feel like a death-knell.
And yet so can not being paid well for your creative work. Or not getting the clients you want or feeling the satisfaction of seeing the project through ALL THE WAY to completion.
As a Big Dreamer and also a Big Doer, I love to Get Stuff Done.
But isn’t it funny how our Big Dreams can take a back seat to managing the minutiae of life? It’s all too easy for me to get swept up into catch-up work and meeting other people’s needs (School of Service, watch out) before meeting my own.
That’s where focus, structure, and goals can be quite handy.
Tools to Go
Here are a few of concepts that help me tremendously:
- Recognize when you’re procrastinating on the big stuff by taking care of the little stuff, and nip that in the bud.
- Put the “hard thing” first in the day and the rest will be downhill from there.
- Get clear on what your Big Dream is, commit to it, and make it a priority (see number 2).
- Block out specific chunks of time in your calendar to DO the Big Dream. I just made space in my calendar for my Big Writing projects. So far, going okay — a few temper tantrums and some conscious choices, but all good.
- Avoid multitasking (I still struggle with this one — it’s so easy for me to try to do multiple things at once but I know it doesn’t really work).
- If you can’t do the BIG thing for as long as you had planned, just do a LITTLE bit of it to keep the energy moving forward (Thanks, Miriam!)
- Stay accountable. Get a partner or join a group or participate in my weekly accountability group (see below) to help keep the commitment to yourself.
by Jenna | Jan 11, 2011 | Writing Articles
This weekend I was in the thick of two major things that put me in a vulnerable place: Hosting a party and being creative under pressure.
On Saturday, I was trying to make a cake and a party for my son that he would love and one of my friends said, “This is kind of an over-the-top birthday for a three year old, isn’t it?” and I said, “Is it?” because I thought I was doing a great job of having it be low key and fun and cool AND make him an amazing cake he would love.
Then on Sunday, while writing my entry for the third challenge of the Short Screenplay Challenge 2010, I felt like I was trying to corral all these ideas into behaving themselves and into doing what they were supposed to be doing and they were all over the place and at the same time I was trying to meet a deadline AND be creative under pressure AND keep my head at the same time. (Jeez.)
Plus, layered on top of that, I’m in the midst of getting a hold of the slippery direction I’m heading in with my work. It’s changing, evolving, I’m doing it as I go along, but people (Read: naysayers) keep implying that I’m not doing it enough or fast enough or that I’m trying too hard to get it right before I proceed.
All these things add to the quality of self-consciousness and second-guessing coming up that makes me feel like my slip is really showing. (I hate that.)
But right in the thick of all of this, I had the pleasure of watching Brené Brown’s brilliant TED talk on vulnerability. (If you haven’t seen it, go watch it right now, you’ll be glad you did.)
Since then, I’ve been immersed in thinking over the ways in which I hold myself back from truly connecting, being wildly, deeply creative and joyful, and just plain-old enjoying my life more and how it takes an act of courage to be seen.
Truly seen by yourself, your spouse, your children, your family, your audience.
The thing is, I want to have a LOT more fun. I’ve hacked my life in key ways over the last several years. I know how to trust my intuition, how to work with my sensitive nature rather than against it, how to Get Stuff Done and do it well and effectively, how to make a great living doing work I truly enjoy, how to run a business, and how to work from home and raise a small child (still working on that one).
And there is so much more for me to work on. (I’m an Enneagram Four; there’s ALWAYS more.)
But at the end of the day, what is the point if I’m not enjoying it?
Brené Brown tells us that being vulnerable is the key to making REAL connections, feeling more creative, and having more joy in our lives.
How can we be more real, more vulnerable, and more seen?
I’m trying.
by Jenna | Nov 16, 2010 | Writing Articles
One of the participants at my recent retreat shared this powerful quote from Barbara Sher, “Isolation is a dream killer.”
Similarly, my teacher Sonia Choquette says, “You cannot do it alone.”
How true!
As a sensitive woman, mother, home-based business owner, spiritual coach, intuitive, hand analyst, and ready-to-take-the-world-by-storm creative writer, I can tell you that the hardest days are when I feel like I have no one to turn to and there’s no one else out there who gets who or where I am. Luckily, I’ve learned a few things about this along the way.
When it comes to making your dreams real, here are a few things to keep in mind:
1. Your nascent vision is like a tiny seedling. Plant it in fertile soil, water it, nurture it, and protect it. Don’t put it somewhere it could be trampled on. Share it only with your best supporters.
2. Get the right support from the right people. You must have “believing eyes” to witness your project into wholeness. Do not allow the naysayers and doubters to topple your tiny creation before it learns to stand on its own two feet.Get in touch with your supporters when you need them, and do the same for them. Make sure you have a balanced, equal exchange with people who are emotionally whole enough to truly be there for you.
3. Dream big or stay at home. Don’t hold back from your vision — go all the way with it. Push yourself to your creative edge. Ask, “How can I take this to its next greatest level of expression?” If you need help pushing yourself to that precipice, you’re in the right place. You’ll be seeing more from me modeling this very, very soon (stay tuned!).
4. Don’t take your critics too seriously. Like most of us, you probably make the mistake of listening to criticism (from yourself or from other people) far too early in your creative process. Your inner critics are speaking from fear and doubt, and your outer critics are doing the same. Very often, your outer critics are simply projecting their own fear and excuses onto you. So take it with a grain of salt. And turn to your supporters to get you back on track when you make the mistake of listening to the wrong voice.
5. Trust yourself, first. So often you dismiss your greatest, deepest truths because you think they are too simple, too complicated, too unrealistic, etc. But if you simply allow yourself the permission to explore what your inner voice is telling you, miraculous things can happen. You may want and need to have your inner truths heard and witnessed before you’re willing to give ourselves that permission.
That’s where your supporters or coach come into play. Either way, sometimes allowing yourself to voice your vision to the right listeners is just the powerful kick-start you need to make your dream become a reality.
