On a recent episode of How I Met Your Mother, one of the characters feels lost and unsure what to do with her life. She got some powerful advice from a stranger: “What’s the one thing you want to do with your life? Now let everything you do be in service of that.”
This is a question I’ve been wrestling with a lot lately. What’s your one contribution, the one thing you really want to point to and say, “I did that. That’s why I was here.” Don’t make any considerations other than what you want. This isn’t about what you can do, but what you want to do. Got your answer?
Mine is to create content in many forms that inspires people to live exactly the lives they want to live. I want to be known as someone who did that for every person who crosses my path in some way.
Arthur Miller gave up the theater after his play, The Man Who Had All the Luck, flopped horribly on Broadway. It ran for only 4 performances in 1944. He attempted to write novels after that, and they flopped too. So he went back to the theater and several years later finished the Tony Award-winning play All My Sons, one of the most beloved, heart-wrenching, and successful in theater history. It took him 5 years to write it and was his first successful production. At the time of its debut, it was panned critically save for Brooks Atkinson’s review in the New York Times. Mr. Atkinson is often credited with rescuing the piece from failure. 2 years later, Miller wrote Death of a Salesman in 6 weeks and it won the Pulitzer.
Miller said this about watching All My Sons for the first time with an audience:
“The success of a play, especially one’s first success, is somewhat like pushing against a door which is suddenly opened from the other side. One may fall on one’s face or not, but certainly a new room is opened that was always securely shut until then. For myself, the experience was invigorating. It made it possible to dream of daring more and risking more. The audience sat in silence before the unwinding of All My Sons and gasped when they should have, and I tasted that power which is reserved, I imagine, for playwrights, which is to know that by one’s invention a mass of strangers has been publicly transfixed.”
It would have been very easy for Mr. Miller to give up writing after his early string of failures. At that point, there was no reason to believe he would ever be successful. And yet, he kept going. He kept trying as he worked menial jobs to make ends meet while remaining passionate about his craft. All he had was raw determination.
Maybe you’ve tried to do something and it wasn’t as successful as you wanted it to be even though you gave it everything you had. Maybe you’re thinking about throwing in the towel and getting a new dream. You’re in good company. At many points, Miller considered giving up. How could he not? But he didn’t. He started again. He took the second step, and it’s that step that made all the difference, for him, for us, and for the American theater. Follow that lead.
To sign up for updates on my new book, Your Second Step: What to Do After Your Leap, by clicking here.
My only talents are intense curiosity and a freakishly strong sense of discipline. When something interests me, I go after it with a dogged determination and dedication. It’s the only way I know how to live and I wouldn’t change it. It’s taken me to places of immense beauty and introduced me to people who are kind, inspiring, and full of grace and goodness.
Curiosity and discipline have saved me over and over again throughout my life and I expect that they will go right on doing so for as long as I have breath. There is so much comfort in knowing that. It gives me a way out, up, over, and through every obstacle. It’s lets me know that even when I’m down, I won’t be down for long. Curiosity and determination will ride in on their chariot, scoop me up, and off we’ll go on a new adventure. They make every ending a new beginning.
“Optimist: Someone who figures that taking a step backward after taking a step forward is not a disaster. It’s the cha-cha.” ~ Robert Brault
Forward, back. Forward, back. This is exactly what happens whenever we try to build something. It’s the dance of trial-error-and-trial-again. This is true of everything I’ve ever done. Nothing has ever been a linear progression from 0 to 60. The fun is in learning to ride the wave. When the roller coaster pulls up beside you, hand over your ticket, grab a seat (I recommend the front one because you can see better!), buckle up, and learn.
No matter where we are, light guides us to exactly where we need to go. You’ll find it in people, in your work, in everything beautiful, and in you. Trust it.
Over the Christmas holidays, I strained my hip. Now I’m on the mend thanks to my yoga practice, yoga teachers, and rest. I am rarely sick or injured so when it happens I first feel disappointed and then incredibly grateful. Disappointed that despite my desire to be super-human, I am indeed human and susceptible to injury. Grateful because an injury or illness fills me with so much empathy and compassion for those who manage physical pain on a daily basis. Injuries can get us down, and they can also be tremendous opportunities for growth, a source or strength, and proof of resilience. After all, if we were always well we would never experience the magic of healing.
“Within and without, the voice holds the key.” ~ Kara Johnstad
All projects need doing and listening. We observe the outside world and our own inner world. We hear and see what happens around us and then tune in to what is happening in our own hearts, bodies, minds, and spirits. To do our best work, we must have this balance. The place where the inner world and outer world meet is our greatest source of inspiration, where we realize that what we have to give is exactly what the world needs.
Whenever something doesn’t work out in my favor, I don’t think of it as an opportunity lost but as a bullet dodged. This philosophy has never failed me, and over time it’s always proved to be true. I repeat this statement to myself: “The world has something better in mind for you. Be patient. Live. Have faith. Keep going.”
When we want to take a chance, when we want to do something new, we have to clear the way so the new can enter. This is exciting and it’s scary because we may have some time when this empty space just wants to house something. It may remain empty for a good long while before we actually figure out what belongs in that space. This is also a dangerous time. We may get so frustrated with that empty space that we feel tempted to fill it with something, anything. Don’t do it. Only fill it with something and / or someone you truly want.
Waiting is a tough business because we don’t know how long the waiting will last and we don’t know exactly what our options will eventually be. I don’t have those answers, but I do know this: we get what we settle for. So if we settle for something less than we want then that’s exactly what we’ll get – something that leaves us feeling empty even though we are full. Something that depletes us rather than building us up. Something that casts a shadow over our light rather than helping it to burn brighter. If that’s the choice, then I’m waiting. I’ll clear the way and hold that empty space for as long as it takes.
“Luck is being ready for the chance.” Every success I know of took both work and luck. What varies is the proportions of each. And don’t worry about trying to figure out how to calibrate them into the master combination. We can’t engineer it. We only control half of the ingredients. We can work hard. Luck is left to, well, luck. We can prepare to be lucky. I would argue that we must be prepared to recognize and then take full advantage of luck. But we don’t control the timing or the amount of luck we get. We also don’t get to choose the wrapper that our luck dons. It often doesn’t advertise itself. It shows up in the form of someone or something we weren’t looking for. That’s how luck rolls – to its own drummer and in its choice of costume.
So what can we do?
1.) I work harder than I need to. Often times my lucky breaks don’t require even half the work I put into them. I’m an over-preparer and I’ve made my peace with that because over-preparation gives me both confidence and wiggle room. And if by chance I fall short a bit short on the luck component, I can make up for it with extra work.
2.) I turn over every rock. I get a new client. I get a new writing gig. I meet a new person interested in my work. I keep going. I don’t stop when I get a modicum of success. I appreciate it and make the most of it, and I keep digging for more. Luck runs and out and we can replenish our supply if we keep going.
3.) I see everything as an opportunity. Everything. A trip to the grocery store. A walk with Phin. An article I read. Someone who shares something I do online. Every little thing has some element of magic. I never lose sight of that. And I try to be that source for someone else. I like to connect people. I like to tell them what I’m doing in the hopes that it helps them do something, too. Opportunity isn’t a linear path. It’s a circle and it goes round and round as long as we choose to keep it going.
Keep showing up. Keep working hard. Keep reaching. Don’t worry about searching for luck. It will find you when it’s good and ready.
Christa Avampato 