creativity, education, risk, school

My Year of Hopefulness – A Little Too Comfortable

My friend, Alex, is renowned for her cards. I’m not talking about holiday cards or birthday cards. I always have a beautiful envelope show up in my mailbox with her curly handwriting on it when I expect it least and need it most. A new job, a new apartment, a tough time as showcased on this blog. This week I got a card from her that I loved so much I hung it up at my desk at work. It makes me smile every time I look at it.

The quote on the front of the card says, “Friend, you are a divine mingle-mangle of guts and stardust. So hang in there!” It’s a quote from Frank Capra. He also famously said that “A hunch is creativity trying to tell you something.” While on the surface, Alex’s card may just seem like a sweet gesture from a good friend, I also think there’s something else baked into it. She’s really telling me to just get on with it. It’s a message I need to hear, and if anyone can tell me that in a kind, supportive way, it’s Alex.

Tonight I had dinner with my friend, Katie, a fellow Pisces. She mentioned something about Saturn being in Pisces and causing all kinds of havoc. Apparently, the effect is cumulative and ends on October 31st. Essentially this means that universe has been whacking us around for a bit and decided to send Saturn out of our sign with a bang, explaining why just about everything in my life got flipped upside-down in the past month. Now, I’m not quite sure that I believe in astrology to this extent but goodness does it explain a lot!

I’ve also been feeling an increase in energy this last week and feeling the tides of change sweeping in. Before Saturn’s wallop, I was getting too comfy in my daily routine. Everything seemed to be “good enough”. And I’m not a person that can live with “good enough” for too long. I needed to be shaken awake and I have a hard head so it takes quite a bit of effort to change my mind.

To Alex’s point, I need to embrace my inner mingle-mangle of guts and stardust. I needed some new dreams and new drive to reach them. And that requires a little more risk than I’ve been taking lately. It requires a little more bravery than I’ve been exhibiting. Sometimes we need to be on a burning platform (please pardon this pun in light of my burned out apartment building) before we leap into the sea of possibility. So here I go – I hope those adult swimming lessons pay off.

On Tuesday, I’m attending an information session for a PhD program that I’ve been considering and re-considering for some time now. I’ve been putting it off for about a year. I’d sign up for info sessions and not go for one reason or another. One of my business school professors who I respect beyond measure has been encouraging this route since the middle of my second year at Darden. I always thought up a reason why I couldn’t do it. That leap was too scary. Me, a PhD candidate? No, I can’t possibly do that. I don’t have the money / time / attention-span.

Then I remembered a quote I read some time ago about time and the passing of it. “Don’t let the fear of the time it will take to accomplish something stand in the way of your doing it. The time will pass anyway; we might just as well put that passing time to the best possible use.” It’s from Earl Nightingale. My best possible use is in writing, speaking, teaching, traveling and growing social change initiatives. I can’t think of another way to be more productive. And all of these things are made infinitely easier by going the PhD route. Or at least I have a hunch that they are. My creativity is knocking at the door, and I at least need to open the door and give her the opportunity to plead her case. I at least need to hear her out.

The image above is not my own. It can be found here.

choices, love, risk, work

My Year of Hopefulness – When Choice and Logic Meet

“We either make ourselves happy or miserable. The amount of work is the same.” ~ Carlos Castaneda, American anthropologist and author

I’ve been thinking a lot about work this week. Not necessarily where I am employed, but rather the broader definition of work that encompasses all of the activities that I am engaged in every day. The most valuable, affecting, satisfying work I do all day involves my writing. Whether it’s on this blog, for TJCC, the fiction I’m currently working on, or my after-school program, I now know that writing is what I’m meant to do. I really can’t imagine taking up another profession that doesn’t have writing and content creation as its main activity.

Now I’ve been down this road before. I’ve had several opportunities to take up writing full-time and I’ve turned away out of fear. Again, I am at this same, familiar cross-roads: Can I jump off the cliff as so many successful writers say they ultimately had to do? We hear it all the time – lawyers who just couldn’t be lawyers for one more day, doctors and nurses who couldn’t work one more overnight shift, corporate employees who lost all interest in climbing any kind of ladder. They wanted so much to do something creative that they could no longer make their living any other way. Can I be that brave (or ignorant as the case may be for me)?

There are a few tough things about taking great risks, whether the risk is in our professional or personal lives:

1.) Once you jump off the cliff, you can’t change your mind. You can’t get back to where you were before.

2.) There are no guarantees.

3.) You won’t know if it’s the right choice until you actually jump.

These are weighty considerations. I think of my friend, Allan, who is very close to returning to school for a degree that he knows will lead him in the direction of his dream job. Or my friend, LT, who is a phenomenal and engaging public speaker who is beginning to lay the groundwork for his own business. Or my friend, Lissa, who left behind her work as a GYN so she could build a supportive on-line community for women and conduct self-empowerment and personal development workshops. And my dear friends, Amy and Rob, who are in the transition process from financially lucrative careers in the arts to personally fulfilling ventures in peace building and social work. I’m drawing my inspiration from them these days. “Maybe I can do this,” I thought this morning in my cubicle.

The latest iteration of this thought started to take shape on Wednesday. At 10am I had a full-on argument, not raising the volume of my voice. Thank goodness it was by phone and not in person. Then someone basically told me to shut up and do what I was told. Hmmm….that doesn’t exactly sit well with me. I don’t do any of the things in that phrase well – I don’t shut up, I don’t like being told what to do if I completely disagree with it, and I certainly don’t take kindly to being told to do those two things in combination. And then I completely surprised myself – I articulated with passion and clarity why I would not comply with this person’s request. And my comments were met with complete silence. My friend, Jeff, calls it “The Ba-bam Response”, as in “Ba-bam, take that!” In that moment, the person yelling at me is the one who sat down and I stood up, way up, perhaps as straight and tall as I have ever been.

Today I read the quote above by Carlos Castaneda, and I have not been able to get it out of my mind. Castaneda is right. To not write requires that I work very hard at something that I’d rather not do for a living, and to choose to write full-time (and make a living at it) will be a tremendous amount of work, too. So shouldn’t I do a tremendous amount of work for something I really want to do rather than something I don’t want to do?

I went through this same process in my personal life a few years ago. I used to be afraid, very afraid, to fall in love. I flat out refused to do it. There is a great risk involved in opening up our hearts and loving someone. We could get hurt. Very hurt. And then one day I was able to consider the alternative: if I don’t open up my heart, if I never fall in love and never allow anyone to be close enough to fall in love with me then I will always be a very lonely person who feels disconnected and isolated from the world around me. This loneliness and isolation is its own kind of hurt.

So then I reasoned, “shouldn’t I take the risk and open up my heart because at least in that scenario there is a chance that falling in love can bring me great happiness and joy?” Loneliness and isolation will always, certainly lead to being hurt. And with that reasoning my heart opened up. And yes, I did get hurt, many times, and I also found a lot of joy and happiness, too. Falling in love generates a much stronger likelihood for happiness than not falling in love so I could no longer keep my heart locked up inside of me. It was no longer logical to resist falling in love.

And so it goes with writing full-time, and I think that this time around, when that fork presents itself, I will choose to go down the writing road. Carlos Castaneda’s quote made me realize that any other choice just doesn’t make sense.

business, Business Week, dreams, entrepreneurship, happiness, risk, sports

Ice climbing and starting a business

Bill Buxton wrote a great post this morning on Business Week’s Innovation blog, http://www.businessweek.com/innovate/. In a conversation with his friend, Roger Martin from the Rotman School, the two friends discussed the parallels between starting a business and ice climbing. They compared the characteristic of people drawn to these two activities, specifically their appetite for risk.

The parallel drew out some interesting comparisons such as training, having the necessary tools and trusting in the process. I would also add that there is risk in everything – even in not doing something. We often consider the risk of starting a business, going ice climbing, etc. though we rarely mention the flip-side: how will our happiness, sense of satisfaction and accomplishment be affected long-term by deciding not do something that interests us?

Will we get to a point in our lives when these opportunities are no longer possible because of other choices we made, and then look back with some kind of regret and sadness that we didn’t do something more bold that made us feel alive? While more difficult to conceptualize and put data behind, the point merits some consideration. In the long-run, I’ve found it’s the chances we take, combined with the ones we let pass by, that make up a life.

See Buxton’s full post at: http://www.businessweek.com/innovate/content/mar2008/id20080312_205292.htm?chan=innovation_innovation+%2B+design_top+stories