The Idea Midwife

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.

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.

Weeds! Weeds! Weeds!

My garden has become just a bit overrun with weeds. What's that got to do with bringing your creative work to the world? Quite a lot, it seems.

Inspiration is everywhere. And I do mean everywhere. Yes, even in the clumps of what I lovingly call "the devil weed" which has roots that go clear through to China, and a stem that breaks just easily enough to guarantee that said roots remain in the ground, where they can, and most surely will, sprout again; only next time, even thicker and in more places.

So what can this tracheophyte teach us? Here's just a bit of a weed's wisdom to apply to the creative process:

1. You can create a lot when your your roots are deep.
2. When you need to, you can easily let go of something on the surface, secure in the knowledge that what really drives you, what is really at your core is deep, unchanging, Source.
3. Sometimes what others see as your most annoying trait is in fact your greatest strength. It is what makes you, You.
   

You know...it's got me thinking. These plants just might be food for the creative spirit. I wonder, what else can we learn from the lowly weed?

What Are You Waiting For?

Grace Judson, friend, colleague, cool coach and founder of Svaha Concepts sent me the article she wrote yesterday in which she shared the raw impact of learning about the unexpected death of her friend's sister. And how the Universe tapped on her shoulder with the question: What are you waiting for?

What are you waiting for?

In the face of the undeniable truth that your time in this life is finite, what are you waiting for?

As Grace shared "What is shockingly clear to me in this moment is that all of my hesitations, fears, uncertainties, and thoughts about "As soon as X happens, I'll be happy, or be able to do Y, or stop worrying, or whatever" are meaningless."

What are the stories you weave that say...no...I can't...not yet...I don't have time...I can do it tomorrow; or I'll do it when (fill in the blank)?

If there is something beating at your heart that wants to be shared with the world, please, start now. Pick up the pen and start to write the manuscript. Let someone see that painting you are hiding in your studio. Pick up the phone and get yourself in front of whomever it is that needs to see you and your work. Share your unique perspective. Step fully into life -- not out of fear that it could end at any moment (even though it can) but out of love for the unique and powerful capacity you have to bring that special thing to the world.

So hug your child; call your mom; tell your partner you love him/her; send gratitude and light and love from your Source, through you and back out into the Universe.

And then get to work. The world is waiting for you.

Need a little space?

A few days ago, I had a very odd computer occurrence. No matter how hard I pressed the space bar, Ihadnospace. Allmywordsrantogether. I noticed how very hard it is to get work done if you have no space. And how frustrating it is to have to very consciously insert a tiny space where it was needed. To fix this challenge, I needed to remove the space bar, and clean out all of the gunk and cat hair that had accumulated. Hmmm...could this be a wise invitation from the Universe?  Looking at my desk, the message seems pretty clear: restore your capacity for creating space by cleaning out what has accumulated and is getting in the way. I love how this works!

Here's Mud In Your Eye!

Ahhh...spring! The longer days, the warm sun, the returning birds, and...the mud. Yep, mud. Just at the time we are "raring to go" to break free and dance into the new possibilities that spring promises here in Vermont, Nature again shows her balanced wisdom -- providing us with ample opportunity to stop, to notice, to experiment, to wait. I agree with Vermont essayist Will Baker who suggests "Perhaps Mud Season in Vermont is all about constructive tension, when we find ourselves poised between where we were and where we are headed."

The Power of A Good Story

I love a good story. Don't you? Stories work on us, they take us places, and they let us plumb the depths of our wisdom for new ways to look at familiar challenges. Metaphors challenge, confound, entertain, and change us.

At any moment, we can choose to invoke the power of story to create a new result. As a coach, I frequently use stories and metaphor to help people move from being stuck, into practical action; from defining a situation as a problem, to seeing how it is a steppingstone. And stories and metaphor are everywhere. You can’t take a half a step in any direction without bumping into a whole bunch of them -- in a book, a poem, a quote, a conversation, inspirational writings, a song, graffiti, a personal belief, a folk tale, a prayer, an email, a wish, a joke, a movie, a commercial, on a bumper sticker…heck, everything has a story just waiting to inspire you.