The Idea Midwife

A Tradition of Re-dedication

December 11th marks the first night of Hanukkah, the Jewish festival of lights, the Feast of Dedication. It also marks the beginning of my very favorite holiday tradition.

My husband, David, and I grew up with different traditions. And while neither of us came from particularly devout families, the holiday season is marked by the pull of the traditions we experienced as children. Over the years, David has had the opportunity to endure or enjoy any Christmas tradition that felt important to me (and there are a lot of them!). I wanted us  to also create something special that was sourced in his tradition.

Early in our marriage, we received the gift of a menorah, the nine branched candelabrum central to the celebration of Hanukkah. David taught me the Hebrew blessings that are said before and after the lighting of the candles. And he shared that traditionally children are given a gift of Hanukkah  "gelt" -- gold coins (or chocolate coins wrapped in gold foil) or money. Well, we really didn't want to exchange money (we were fresh out of gold coins at the time) -- that didn't feel quite right. So, what then? And spontaneously we hit on the idea of exchanging kisses -- after the blessings, 1 kiss per lighted candle. Not a little peck, but the kind of "I-Love-You-and-I- mean-it!" kiss that requires a bit of time, attention, and dedication. (By the 8th night, there is some serious smooching going on!)

Over the years as I have come to understand some of the deeper story of the celebration of Hanukkah and the related traditions, my appreciation of our special practice also deepens. I find my thoughts this season going to the idea of dedication, or more accurately re-dedication; to make once again sacred -- through intention, attention, and simple acts done with love and commitment -- that which has been profaned. And all the while inviting miracles.

What can you re-dedicate through simple acts and loving attention this holiday season?

The Power of Baby Steps

Every morning, I receive my very own email message from The Universe. (I am sooo special! The Universe even knows my name.) I really look forward to this daily communication with the Powers the Be. (Full disclosure: I am a devoted member of TUT.  Notes from the Universe is a service mark and service of TUT Enterprises, Inc. Do yourself a favor and sign up.

These notes from the Universe are a delight -- they make me laugh, make me think, and wake me up anew to the wellspring of creative possibility. I tuck away the ones that really touch me deeply.

Here's an excerpt from one from this week: "You don't take "baby steps" for the distance they cover, Laura, but to put yourself within reach of life's magic." Wow. I am personally a huge fan of baby steps. I think anything worth doing is worth doing in ridiculously easy baby steps. I celebrate every small step for humankind. But baby steps as a way to put yourself in the path of magic. Now that is something! What tiny step can you take today?

The Feeling Compass

It all happens in a moment. You are feeling generally pretty upbeat. Sure, it has been a challenge, lately. But you are happy, right? You have a deep sense of joy at doing your right work. And a delicious feeling of freedom.

Then, I don't know...the check is late, you get a bad review, no one says good things about your blog, your client work is ok, but honestly not really inspired -- you worked a little too hard at it, maybe payed too much attention to what you were doing instead of just being present. The cat coughs up a hairball, which you discover in the dark, with your bare feet. Oh, and then there are those "things" you said you would do. Not critical things, but agreements, just the same. And to be honest, you've failed to meet these agreements before, with the same group. You really can't do it again. And there's a check you can't remember writing that bottoms out the checking account. Again. And then, that client you were excited to be working with...who you really connected with, decides now is just not the right time. And even though it's nothing personal, just a timing thing, and you deeply support your client's choice, still you find your (ego) self bleeding from a thousand tender cuts. And just for a moment you think "I give up. it's too hard. I can't do it."

And here's the hardest thing: to just be with that feeling. Not to name it. Not to explain it, try to change it, try to understand it. Not to figure it out. Not to use it to spark a new goal or self improvement campaign. Not to deny it. Not to drown it in Ben & Jerry's New York Super Fudge Chunk ice cream. Not to play the "I shoulda" game...not to tell any story at all about it.

Just hang out with it. Just be with it. Maybe bring a little compassion to it. A loving witness. "Hello, there you are. Here I am."

Like a jostled compass that swings wildly before pointing again (always) to true north, allow the needle to settle.            

Why Games Work When Goals Don't

I'm lucky. I did not play any organized team sports growing up. And I didn't participate in any competitions like spelling bees, dance recitals, or science fairs. And I never quite got the hang of playing the clarinet in 6th grade band. So for me, the idea of playing a game calls to mind a casual neighborhood round of soccer-baseball (a.k.a kickball), or attempting to jump rope for as long as possible without missing, while simultaneously reciting some weird story about a girl with a name that begins with A, then B, etc. and adding fancy steps until I tripped on my sneaker laces. Pretty low risk. No Olympic dreams. No athletic scholarships. And no, sports wise, I really never "could a been a contender." My history leaves me blessed with a rather childlike concept of play. I think playing a game is...well, fun. Your mileage may vary.

With this blessed perspective, here are some reasons why I think games work when goals don't:

• Playing a game lightens the performance burden. We are "just playing" after all. No one expects to be perfect. We are energized to keep trying new things.
• Playing begins with, and perpetuates a love of the game.
• Playing fully engages all of our senses, and thereby unlocks abundant creative resources.
• We more naturally identify simple, measurable steps. We can make those steps as easy or as challenging as we wish. I'm a big fan of easy -- not because I'm afraid of hard work. I'm a fan of easy because an easy task gets me into the game, then my natural curiosity and desire take over.
• If it isn't working, we can make-up new rules or call a do-over.
• It's fun to keep score. Is there anyone who doesn't love amassing shiny gold stars? (Please, it's not just me, is it?).
• A game naturally creates an environment that is designed for success. When we play a game, we think about things like equipment, and practice, and coaches, and fans. We learn or create rules that help us win. We begin to hone in on the actions that really make the difference (Just connect with the ball, don't try to knock it out of the park every time). Pick any game metaphor you like, and you have an instant framework for moving forward on something you want to be doing.

And, hello, we are playing here. It is supposed to be messy and chaotic, and loud, and punctuated by belly laughs. A lot like life.

The Great Writing Game

Have you ever had something you really, really want to do...and find that day after day, you just don't do it? For me, that "thing" is writing. To you.

Perhaps you've "tried" to motivate yourself, inspire yourself, or  egads, "hold your self accountable" (...ick, ick, ick!) I certainly have. I find that I am of two minds about writing (truth be told, I am probably of two minds about lots more than writing...so let's say...writing, for instance). One mind loves writing and sees everything else that gets in the way as a terrible distraction taking me away from my most important thing. If I could just clear my schedule, or my "to do" list, this mind thinks,  I would naturally write both regularly and frequently (and of course brilliantly and perfectly, but that's another topic altogether). This mind is both enthusiastic, and I fear, delusional.

My other mind likes to believe that if writing were important to me, it would show in my strict  discipline: I would put pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard) every day, until I write some number of predetermined words, or some designated period of time passes, or I pass out from all the blood loss (sweating blood is a real marker of commitment, right?), whatever comes first. 

And just to keep life interesting, I even have a third mind, my inner rebel, that gets all huffy and fights tooth and nail against anything that has even a whiff of "you have to..." or any semblance of "forcing myself" to do what it is I want to do. All these minds can get very confusing.

What I yearn for instead is a loving practice of writing that gives me pleasure, gives you value, and ultimately becomes an easy, natural part of "what I do." But how to get there?

Any practice has to start somewhere, so I've decided to play a game I'm calling The Great Writing Game. By virtue of reading this, you are officially a fan (how cool is that!). The season for The Great Writing Game runs from today through the end of the year. During that time, there are 5 series; each series has 4 games (1 game per week); each game is comprised of 4 plays. A winning play occurs when I write to you, either here or on Twitter. (If I happen to write somewhere else, I'll let you know here or on Twitter). Four winning plays in a week equals 1 won game. I invite you to play along, cheer me on, help me keep score, and most important, help me celebrate! And along the way, I'll share what I'm learning about the power, the possibility, and yes, even the perceived pain of creating a loving practice.

Cats & Marketing - Part 3

In part one I explored Norton's approach to marketing (attracting sustenance). In part two, we saw how Kramer, my other furry guru, manages his approach to getting what he needs or wants. In each approach there are lots of reasons to conclude that you should not leave the cats in charge of your marketing.

Then again, maybe they're on to something: These furry little VPs of Marketing are spot on effective. Their approach to the customer is authentic, deeply connected with what is important to them, and only a moderate energy investment. Their action arises in the moment, based on their assessment of the situation (she moved...time to eat!). And while they have preferred individual approaches, they are willing to change strategies a bit if it doesn't seem to be working. They will often partner strategically with each other (abundance mindset - there's enough to go around). And, blissfully, sometimes they just let the purpose driven activity rest and hang out for a while enjoying the customer's company. Because, you know, as long as everyone is getting what they need, the relationship rules.

Norton & Kramer's Quick Guide to Marketing:

 Top 5 things to avoid:

1. It's best to not wait until you are starving to connect with your customer.
2. Staring at an empty bank account does not create sales.
3. Don't get underfoot, it can really be annoying (and annoying the customer is really not the best way to go).
4. Don't get frustrated if you don't get a result after a single action.
5. Don't bite.

10 things that work:

1. Flaunt your unique style.
2. Be in relationship with your customers daily.
3. Be a little entertaining.
4. Be willing to give a little something (add value), just for the fun of it.
5. Step back from time to time to get perspective.
6. Lavish your attention on your "right fit" customers rather than trying to please everyone.
7. Talk to your customers, and invite feedback from them.
8. Be creative in getting your message in front of your customer.
9. Make it as easy as possible for your customer to buy.
10. Take time regularly to just purr.

Have a Wonder-filled Christmas!

Catching snowflakes on your tongue. Flopping into a drift and creating a perfect snow angel. Seeing how long you enjoy a candy cane, without biting. Decorating cookies for Santa and putting out carrots for the reindeer. Hot cocoa with marshmallow's melted just right. Total trust in the power of love and belief (remember Charlie Brown's Christmas Tree? And the Grinch’s expanding heart? And the toys rescued from the Island of Misfit Toys because of Rudolph's "non-conformity.")

This holiday season, I wish for you the gift of seeing again with the eyes of a child. What if...you shifted from being busy, with so much to do and were instead compelled by wonder. Today forget what you know and let yourself navigate by your curiosity. Let go of expectations and give yourself the freedom to play and discover. Expect miracles. Snuggle up for story time. Delight in anticipation. Create new worlds. Giggle. Giggle some more. If you've forgotten how, put your heart in the hands of a small child. They will lead the way. Clap your hands if you believe... What's that? On the rooftop! Do you hear it?

Why You Shouldn't Leave the Cat in Charge of Your Marketing - Part 2

In Part 1, I explored one cat's approach to marketing (attracting sustenance). Now in Part 2, we'll consider how Kramer, my other furry guru, manages his approach to getting what he needs; and once again there are lots of parallels to marketing strategies.

As a reminder, for this exploration, consider food and attention (sustenance) as the equivalent of sales/income (sustenance). Kramer's actions and antics are his marketing strategy and tactics. I am the Customer because I have the sustenance and Kramer wants some. He really wants some. 

Unlike his buddy, Norton, Kramer tends toward a more sleek and sophisticated style, but he is not af raid to flaunt his quirks. He can be a kind of "outside the box" guy (literally, but we don't need to go there.) And even more so then Norton, Kramer is perfectly content to ignore the Customer until he needs sustenance. In fact, he sets a whole new standard on what it means to ignore the Customer.

The foundation of Kramer's marketing strategy is quid pro quo...I'll do something for you, you give me food. And he has two categories of "something" that he gives in order to gain: entertainment and gifts with intention.  Here's how it starts...

I Don't Want To And You Can't Make Me!

My inner 5 year old is pitching a fit. You see, we made a writing playdate with a treasured colleague, because we want to write. A lot. Regularly. Because we've got a lot to say. And we think, with some humility, that maybe some of it will be valuable for others (maybe even you) to read. And we truly hate to deprive you of anything. 'Cuz we really like you.

 And now, my ornery inner kid is working up to a temper tantrum because, while she loves to do many, many things, she hates to "have to" do anything. (She is completely done with being a "good girl"). And it seems that once something gets on the calendar and begins to approximate a "practice" or (gasp) a "discipline," (No, not that! Anything but that!) she wants no part of it. Even if it is something she loves more than a freshly opened box of Crayola^tm crayons. (Exasperated sigh).

So today I give in to the truth that "I don't want to and you can't make me!" and meet it with curiosity rather than force or denial.

Why You Shouldn't Leave the Cat in Charge of Your Marketing

This is Norton. He is one of my two furry feline gurus. This week, Norton and his buddy Kramer (you'll meet him later) have been teaching me different approaches to marketing. It started like this: they were being totally annoying (as only cats can be), because they were ABSOLUTELY STARVING!! But each was using a very different approach to get what they wanted. And I got to thinking that their actions were beginning to look like individual marketing approaches. Let's take a closer look...