It is not possible to lose 30 pounds.
It is not possible to write a book.
It is not possible to clear out all the clutter.
You know why?
Because it is only possible to lose a few ounces a day.
And it is only possible to write a sentence or two — maybe a few pages.
It is only possible to clear a bit of the room at a time.
This may seem like just word play, but stick with me here — because I think this is important for two reasons.
1) The Goal Cannot Be Achieved All At Once
Especially if you have a BIG goal, you may have put off working on it because…well, it just seems too big.
It’s so big that you don’t know where to even start.
It’s so big that you doubt you can complete it.
It’s so big that you question your worthiness, your credibility, your right to even attempt such a thing. (The phrase, “Who do I think I am?” may show up here.)
But when you remember that it is not the BIG goal that needs to be accomplished, but rather just the immediate step that’s right in front of you….
Well, that feels much better, doesn’t it?
(Need a suggestion for what one immediate step might be? Try picking one action that will take less than 15 minutes and is easily within your budget.)
And here’s some even better news:
2) The Goal Is Not a Destination
You may have noticed that sometimes you DO complete a big project, and you end up feeling sort of….deflated.
Depressed.
That post-Christmas let-down feeling.
Because you thought you were done.
You thought that once you achieved your goal you would be complete – and that something would change.
But once you lose 30 pounds, you still have to maintain all the discipline and self-love that got you there.
And once you complete your manuscript, it’s not as though you are done writing.
And even if every bit of clutter gets swept away from your place, it’s only a matter of time until more clutter creeps in.
This is not failure. This is process.
So you might find it comforting that you are mid-process on just about everything.
That means it’s not too late to take the next step.
It’s not too late to begin again.
It’s not too late to delight the world with your art.
Sometimes it is simply your own stubbornness and stuck thinking that are holding you back.
This exercise asks you to be completely frank with yourself — asking some tough questions in a kindly voice to help you break through some of those nasty internal barrier success.
So grab a pen and, working swiftly, answer the following 10 questions for yourself with as much blazing honesty as you can muster:
What has stopped you from succeeding before this?
What’s your most likely form of self-sabotage?
If you found yourself engaging in that self-sabotage, how might you handle that?
What are you afraid might happen if you fail at this project?
How might you address the situation if that failure actually occurred?
What are you afraid might happen if you succeed at this project?
How might you address the situation if that success actually occurred?
What qualities do you possess that can help you move through this project?
What question has not been asked that you need
What is the truth? (Start by writing, “The truth is…”) You may notice that imagining the worst of both failure and success, and then imagining how those eventualities, helps you feel a bit more in the driver’s seat.
Fear paralyzes;curiosity cures.
Writing down the answers to these questions encourages you to give voice to the monsters under the bed, disarming them once and for all.
Maybe you are in the middle of a dry spell so severe your lips are parched.
I’m sorry. I know that feeling — that sinking, empty, aching feeling — and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.
But I know that eventually it will end. And you will live through it. I’m sorry I can’t say how long “eventually” will be, but I do know that you will get your mojo back.
You are an artist.
And sometimes artists endure extended periods during which it seems as if nothing’s happening.
It ’s called acedia, meaning “spiritual torpor and apathy; ennui” or “anomie in societies or individuals, a condition of instability resulting from a breakdown of standards and values or from a lack of purpose or ideals.”
And it doesn’t mean you’re dead inside.
It just means that you’ve temporarily lost the ability to feel joy in your work. Which is sad.
But if you accept this dry spell as a stage in the artistic process, feeling fully confident that no one and nothing can ever take away your identity as an artist (after all, they haven’t been able to make it go away yet, have they?), you just might survive.
Maybe this is the time to pursue some of those other things you always say you want to do. Volunteer more. Have lunch with friends.
Take a temporary job in a field that ’s of interest to you. Spend more time with children. Read all those books you’ve got piled up. Plan a trip. Sit on the couch with the television off.
Whatever happens, don’t give up on yourself.
Eventually you will get a little tickle. An idea will whisper to you. You’ll catch yourself thinking, “I wonder if . . .” and you’ll be off to the races again, productive, happy, and rejoicing in the renewal of your vibrant, creative voice.
Your good humor is as graceful as a baby giraffe,
Even if that joke you were trying to make to the hotel clerk fell flat
And your toast at the wedding came out sounding a little….funny.
But you have gifts that no one knows about.
You have the strength to bend in the wind
You have the joyful spirit that loves a good belly laugh,
You have the wisdom to understand that everything will all come out all right in the end and
You have the faith to light a candle rather than curse the darkness.
That is, if you could find the book of matches from that romantic restaurant that you went to for your anniversary but since you didn’t have a reservation they made you wait at the bar for half an hour during which you had two appletinis and the rest of the night is a bit of a blur.
So much for the overpriced lingerie.
You are beautiful.
You are beautiful.
Frazzled and overworked and underpaid
You are the one who forgot your wallet
And forgot your receipt for the dry cleaners
And forgot your keys which you just set down five seconds ago, so where could they possibly have gone?
But you never forget to say, “I love you”
And you never forget to give a big smile to that nice parking guy
And you never fail to show endless patience when the
Too-tightly wrapped and overly-conscientious start to offer their Oh-so-helpful suggestions about how you might feel better if you would just learn to alphabetize your spice rack.
You are beautiful.
So, wear the lingerie on Monday for no reason.
And why not just refuse to participate in the bake sale this year?
And give yourself a compliment for something you did well today.
Because you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.
I have made a piece that everyone loves, but God, I don’t think it’s very good.
I know, it’s a weird problem to have.
The thing is, it’s not my best work. I feel uncomfortable being praised for
work I’m not that proud of. It’s hard enough receiving compliments I think I
do deserve, much less ones I know I don’t.
Oh. Wait.
I just remembered that I am not responsible for other people’s experiences
of my work.
I am only responsible for creating and curating my work.
And all of my work is made in praise of You.
So how can that ever be “less than?”
God, help me get over my own snobbishness, ego and false modesty. Help
me to feel the love that others are sharing with me.
Help me work and live always from the center of a joyful, humble heart.
