There’s such great stuff inside, this book should be required reading for any creative. (In fact, I’m thinking of creating a online course/study group/support group to dive deeper into the book, but that’s down the road…)

Anyone who has a calling to create faces a daily choice about whether to spend their limited time and energy on what really matters to them… or on the bazillion other things that pull on their proverbial sleeves. With so many distractions in our lives, learning to boost and leverage willpower is an essential skill.

In one of the early chapters of the book, Dr. McGonigal looks at why we keep putting off the thing we really want to do. (Sound familiar?)

You know how most exercise equipment people buy ends up gathering dust? Well, two marketing professors were curious about the mistakes consumers make in predicting how much they’ll use their exercise equipment, and decided to study this phenomenon.

They asked a whole bunch of people to predict, “How many times per week (on average) will you exercise in the next month?”

Then they asked a whole bunch of OTHER people the very same question, but with one important preface: “In an ideal world, how many times per week will you exercise in the next month?”

Turns out that everyone assumes an ideal world — the groups’ estimates were no different.

McGonigal writes:

We look into the future and fail to see the challenges of today. This convinces us that we will have more time and energy to do in the future what we don’t want to do [and I would add -- what we want, but are not quite yet willing or ready to do] today. We feel justified in putting it off, confident that our future behavior will more than make up for it.

It gets more interesting, though.

Perhaps, thought the researchers, prompting more realistic self-predictions would make a difference.

Nope. When the experimenters gave people the explicit instructions, “Please do not provide an idealistic prediction, but rather the most realistic prediction of your behavior that you can,” those people showed even more optimism about their behavior and reported the highest estimates yet!

Not surprisingly, when the researchers invited these optimists back for a reality check, they reported that the number of times they had actually exercised was lower than predicted.

“People had made their predictions for an ideal world,” writes McGonigal, “but lived through two weeks in the real world.”

And it doesn’t stop there. McGonigal continues:

The experimenters then asked these same people to predict how many times they would exercise in the next two weeks. Ever the optimists, they made estimates even higher than their initial predictions, and much heigher than their actual reports from the past two weeks. It’s as if they took their original predicted average seriously, and were assigning their future selves extra exercise to make up for their ‘unusually poor’ performance. Rather than view the past two weeks as reality, and their original estimates as an unrealistic view, they viewed the past two weeks as an anomaly.

In other words, people use positive expectations — optimism — to justify present inaction.

Kinda depressing, huh?

Thankfully, there are tricks for handling the down side of optimism.

Behavioral economist, Howard Rachlin, offers one: when you want to change a behavior, aim to reduce the variability in your behavior, not the behavior itself.

Huh?

Rachlin did studies with smokers, asking them just to try to smoke the same number of cigarettes every day, not to try to smoke less. Guess what? Those smokers actually decreased their overall smoking.

Writes McGonigal:

Rachlin argues that this works because the smokers are deprived of the usual cognitive crutch of pretending that tomorrow will be different. Every cigarette becomes not just one more smoked today, but one more smoked tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that. This adds new weight to every cigarette, and makes it much harder to deny the health consequences of a single smoke.

So how does this apply to your creative thing?

Just this: aim to reduce the variability of your creative practice. Instead of asking “Would I rather do this today or tomorrow?” ask yourself, “Do I really want the consequences of always putting off my passion?”

Then let me know how it goes.

Tell me, how will you apply this willpower lesson to your own life?

If you’re ready to stop putting off your passion, join me in my program for women, Time to Glow, starting May 24.

We’ll cover more tools for turbo-charging your willpower, for moving forward despite fear & doubt, for taming that Inner Critic Gremlin grumbling away at you that “you’re not good enough” or “you don’t deserve to create” or “everything/everyone else is more important,” and a whole lot more.

If you’re ready to create what’s calling you to be created and share it with the world before it’s too late, click here to join a circle of amazing, generous, warm-hearted women. We’re waiting to welcome you.

Early bird pricing ends at 9pm PDT tonight, May 11. Click here to learn more about the program and to take your place in it.

PS — Pssst! Know someone who might benefit from seeing this today? Pass it on!

Given how much press the man has (deservedly) received, it’s hard for me to imagine anyone might not have heard of Chris Guillebeau at this point, but then Chris also looms very large in my own world. He is, in fact, the role model who kicked off my journey toward living the fully creative life I really, really wanted, rather than the “not quite” life I’d been settling for.

With his writing, his blog The Art of Nonconformity, and his business model, Chris showed me that yes, people actually can make a living doing what they love. And they can change the world along the way.

Of course Chris is by no means the only person doing this, but he’s the first one who landed on my radar when I was ready to take notice. My life was forever changed as a result. I started this blog. I started looking for the sweet spot in my work, where what I love to do intersects with what other people are willing to pay for. I started seeking out other people on a similar path — a supportive community to help me along the way. I started seeking out tools to get me where I wanted to go.

All catalyzed by Chris. Role models can be that powerful.

I have some more to say about Chris, but let’s get back to his new book for a moment.

I was lucky enough to get my hands on an advance copy, and what a treat it is. My own mission is not to get people to quit their jobs and strike out on their own — I want to get you creating, doing the thing (or things) that fill you with joy and make you glow with life; I don’t honestly care one way or another if you want to make your creative thing your livelihood as I’ve done and am doing. I just want to see you doing your creative thing, period.

If you do want to build a business doing what you love, though, The $100 Startup is an essential addition to your library. Using dozens of case studies of all different kinds of businesses — from a guy who sells mattresses and delivers them by bicycle, to a professional dog walker who nets over $88k/year — Chris brings together the major lessons he shared in his groundbreaking Empire Building Kit into an easy-to-use (and fun to read!) guide. There’s also a multi-media component, with additional resources over on the book’s website, 100startup.com.

In short, it’s awesome. Highly recommended. Go check it out.

But back to Chris.

Here’s a guy who created a $50k/year business from his website in under a year (279 days, to be exact — and it’s waaaaaaay beyond $50k/year at this point…), who’s published two books, who created an amazing conference (the World Domination Summit, headed into its second year, also highly recommended), and who is well on his way to visiting every single country on the planet before he turns 35 — mostly on frequent flyer miles, by the way — just because.

From that list of accomplishments you might think Chris is some sort of superhuman. The truth is, though, that he’s no more of a superhuman than you or I. There is one big difference between Chris (and people like him) and most other people, though, and it’s this:

Mindset.

In short, “impossible” is not in Chris’s vocabulary. As a result, he doesn’t limit his dreams. He might be scared of them — scared of failure, scared of success (I don’t know, I haven’t asked him) — but he dreams BIG and (just as essential) he takes real steps to bring those dreams to life, to get from dreaming to doing.

Imagine if Chris had thought (and acted on — or rather, not acted because of) any variation on the following:

“I’m not smart enough.”

“I’m not capable enough.”

“Who am I to try to do this?”

“I don’t have enough experience/the right credentials yet.”

“Other people could do that, but it’s just not in the range of what’s possible for me.”

Any of these sound familiar? I’ll be honest, those are the beliefs I’ve held about areas of my own life, beliefs I didn’t even realize were beliefs. I just thought they were The Truth.

Which brings me to one of my favorite metaphors:

The Self-Installed Glass Ceiling

I call these kinds of beliefs self-installed glass ceilings, because they limit possibilities just as much as any rule or policy designed to keep you down.

Your mindset can be a glass ceiling that keeps you hunched over and playing small, or like Chris, it can be a source of incredible power that enables you to accomplish great things.

Which do you choose?

A Note on Sexism and Glass Ceilings:

It’s important to note that, because we (still) live in a sexist culture, the self-installed glass ceiling syndrome tends to operate in different ways on women than it does on men. No matter how much progress we’ve made as a society, there are still unspoken cultural beliefs and expectations about what women should/shouldn’t do, what women are/aren’t capable of.

Those unspoken beliefs and expectations are like a soup we all swim in, and until they’re pointed out to us, we have about as much awareness of them as goldfish have of the water in their tank. It can be hard to recognize them as cultural beliefs and expectations, and as a result, they affect our beliefs about ourselves.

We see them as just the way things are.

A glass ceiling is, after all, practically invisible, but you still bang your head on it when you try to stand up straight. It can take awhile to realize the problem isn’t with YOU (ie, “You’re just too tall, and that’s why you keep banging your head!”), it’s that there’s a sheet of glass in your way!

Men certainly face self-limiting beliefs — I in no way mean to imply that they don’t. But I submit that women have additional layers (or at least different layers) of self-limiting beliefs that need to be peeled away and deprogrammed in order for us to reach our fullest potential. This has certainly been the case for me.

The good news is that beliefs can be changed. Mindsets can be shifted.

Elsewhere I’ve talked about the 3 ingredients that together lead to the fastest mindset transformations:

1) An inspiring role model (like Chris has been for me)

2) A supportive community

3) An effective toolkit

Those are the ingredients that have made the most difference in my own self-installed glass-ceiling busting. (Click here for a blog post and video in which I talk about each of those ingredients in a little more detail.) And not coincidentally, they’re the ingredients I’ve brought together in my new program for women, Time to Glow, which you can read about here.

Perhaps even Chris Guillebeau had to bust through some self-installed glass ceilings to get where he is today — I don’t know, I haven’t asked, though it would be interesting to find out! I kinda like to imagine he did, even though his glass ceilings might be different from my own, because the fact that he shattered them would make him an even more awesome role model.

Not that he needs to be any more awesome than he already is. Love ya, Chris! Congrats on the book launch!

I’m curious, have you shattered any self-installed glass ceilings in your own life? What made the difference for you?

If you’re ready to bust through your own self-installed glass ceiling, to dream bigger and go from dreaming to doing, join me in Time to Glow, my program for women who want to answer the call of their heart, tame the gremlins, and finally live the fully creative life of their dreams. Doors open tomorrow, May 9. Click here for more info and to sign up.

PS — Pssst! Know someone who might benefit from seeing this today? Pass it on!

Let me tell you a story about how a shift in my own mindset led to my becoming a teacher, to my teaching all over the country, and more recently, to the foundation for the realization of a long-held “impossible dream.”

Cue the harp music

Signalling going backwards in time, of course…

Back in ’97, when the internet and my career as an artist/calligrapher were both in their infancy, before Yahoo groups, Google groups, blogs, Facebook and online forums, I joined an email listserv for calligraphers, Cyberscribes.

Although I didn’t realize it at the time, my marriage was just 2 years from disintegrating into divorce. My husband’s father was in poor health, and my husband moved out of our house and in with him in order to be his caregiver. I was lonely inside this crumbling relationship, and I found the connection I craved — with people all over the globe — in the Cyberscribes emails.

I didn’t identify myself as “a teacher” AT ALL back then, but teaching is in my blood (I kinda can’t help myself), and I leaped at the chance to offer helpful info whenever anyone posted a question I had any knowledge or experience with. People noticed.

I also must have sensed that my marriage was on shaky ground, because when a fellow Cyberscribe named Sheryl posted a real-life cautionary tale that she was divorcing after 20+ years and now had only her part-time income from a freelance calligraphy and teaching business to support her, her situation really resonated with me.

What if that happened to me, I wondered? (Not really believing it ever would…)

Sheryl and I started chatting offline, and soon became fast friends. A few months later, right before Sheryl was scheduled to drive from Maryland to New York to teach a workshop, I flew across the country to meet her.

This was back when 3D relationships that started online were still pretty new, and I think my parents and husband were a little anxious that Sheryl might turn out to be an axe murderer, but in fact, she was delightful and lovely, and our friendship was very close for years afterwards. But that fall day back in the late 90s I met her at the train station in Washington, DC, stayed in her house, and the next day we had several hours to talk in her car, on the drive to Long Island where her workshop was to be held.

“You should teach,” Sheryl announced, mid-way through our long drive.

“Yes, I’d love to, someday,” I said. It was a dream of mine, though a far-off one. I certainly wasn’t ready yet.

“No, you should be teaching now,” she countered.

“Now? What could I teach?” Didn’t she know I wasn’t ready?

“I can think of at least 8 things you could teach, right off the top of my head,” said Sheryl. And she went on to list them: numerous different lettering styles, book arts, a survey of calligraphy tools, collage…

Huh. Turns out I knew a lot of stuff… Still, the idea felt rather overwhelming. I wasn’t “a teacher,” remember?

Later, on day 2 of her workshop, Sheryl gave me an amazing gift. She took a detour from the topic at hand and invited me to do a demonstration of my signature version of Neuland, a calligraphic hand I developed based on an early 20th Century typeface of the same name.

It was maybe 20 or 30 minutes, max — not much — but it was enough to give me the guts to go home and organize my first full-day workshop, where I taught Neuland to an enthusiastic group of 10 scribes (and sweated like a pig from nerves the whole time!)

As an itinerant teacher who traveled the country giving workshops, Sheryl was a wonderful role model. She made me see that yes, this was something I could do too! She was also an amazing and generous mentor, giving me that demo opportunity, and connecting me with the workshop chair of a guild in New Jersey who soon thereafter booked me for a weekend workshop on the strength of Sheryl’s recommendation and my Cyberscribes reputation alone. (I find it amusing that the first workshop I was ever hired for was on the other side of the country! Getting hired for local gigs proved much harder, as everyone seems more interested in the “expert from out of town” than the “local yokel.” Also, note the power of being helpful. People notice. And remember.)

For awhile there, back in the late 90s, itinerant teaching was a big part of my tiny business. I taught in a multitude of cities in New York and New Jersey, Connecticut, Chicago, Houston, Dallas, San Antonio, Austin, and all over California.

But in order to get there, I had to make a major mindset shift. I had to stop thinking of myself as “not a teacher” and start thinking of myself as someone who could totally learn to teach well, and continue improving as a teacher.

Did I feel ready at the start? No. But the truth is, you’re usually ready long before you think you are. Taking actual steps toward that big dream almost always feels scary, because you haven’t done it before. If you had, it wouldn’t be in your “I want to do that someday” list anymore, would it?

Back in the present…

There’s a more recent chapter to my teacher story. Although I’ve been hired to teach all over the US, I’ve always had a dream of teaching in other parts of the world. A week-long workshop overseas… Imagine! But it seemed a rather impossible dream. The logistics alone always felt overwhelming, beyond me. So the idea remained in my “maybe someday, when I’m ready,” category.

Once you’ve experienced one mindset shift, though, it creates space for others. And when fellow artist & creativity coach Kelly Hevel signed up on my email list last fall and I discovered she lived in Istanbul (where I’ve always wanted to visit), and that she also had a dream of teaching creativity workshops around the world, we kicked into gear. We both shifted from thinking of ourselves as “someone who dreams” to “someone who does.”

Yep, we’re offering our very first in what we hope will be an ongoing series of creative immersion vacations and retreats in inspiring locations around the world. Starting in Istanbul — September 30-October 7! Click the banner to read all about it. (and save $100 if you put a deposit down by May 31).

Meanwhile, I’ve channeled that “someone who does” thinking into creating my latest program, Time to Glow, the culmination of what I’ve learned over my lifetime about living a creative life.

This is the course I’ve been wanting to offer for years — combining tools to battle sexism, self-doubt, fear, procrastination, perfectionism and more — but until now I didn’t know quite what, exactly, it would look like and how to make it happen. The mindset shifts I’ve experienced thanks to my blogging journey, lots of inner-work, and lots of wonderful teachers, books and online courses, have helped me identify my most precious gifts and strengths, and how I can best share those.

Do I know everything? Lord, no! But I’ve shifted my mindset to be able to see that what I do know is enough to share with others, and to be of tremendous value. My goal is to help you shift your own mindset, to see the amazing value you bring to the table when you use your creativity, to get you from dreaming to doing.

You may not feel you’re ready, but I know you actually are.

I’d be honored to have you join me on the journey.

How have you shifted your mindset to get from dreaming to doing? Where are you still stuck?

PS — Pssst! Know someone who might benefit from seeing this today? Pass it on!

Hey! Hello! Announcement!

Come hang out with me at 5pm PT tomorrow, Wednesday, May 2nd at my free monthly Hangout! I’ll be jamming with fellow Passion Pluralite (she calls us Multipotentialites) Emilie Wapnick, of Puttylike.com, and we’ll open up the conversation to everyone there, so bring your thoughts and questions!

We’ll hang out together in a special online “room” where you can participate via text chat, audio and/or video, or just observe if you like. (Don’t worry, nobody will see you unless you specifically fire up your webcam!)

Read more about it and sign up here. (Did I mention it’s free? Really! It is!)

What’s the #1 thing that gets in your way?

It keeps you from living the fully creative life of your dreams.

It gets between you and the happiness you desire, between you and joy, between you and contentment.

It stops you from doing what you love.

It keeps you stuck, convinces you you’re not good enough, prevents you from dreaming big, setting big goals and going after them — holds you back from playing big in your life and in the world.

It’s not time. Or money. Or your job. Or your boss. Or your family and friends (or enemies for that matter).

The #1 thing that gets in your way is something you actually have control over (though it often feels like you don’t).

Have you guessed it?

It’s your mindset.

With the right mindset, you can achieve anything.

Mindset is key to answering the call in your heart, and…

…to getting past fear and uncertainty

…to overcoming perfectionism

…to taming the gremlin voices that hold you back

…to living the truly creative life you long for

But how do you get into the mindset to do all this?

I won’t lie to you, it takes some work — inner work.

And it can also take time. In my case, it has taken years — a lifetime — to really live the creative life of my dreams.

But it doesn’t have to take that long!

When I was ready and willing to make the shifts, they came extremely quickly — quite literally overnight, or even faster. (It was the build-up to being ready and willing that took so long…)

3 Essential Ingredients

I’ve learned from experience that where there is willingness and readiness, there are 3 very specific ingredients that together work like a pressure cooker to bring about the internal transformations that result in profound mindset shifts, AND the necessary actions that bring about life change.

Those 3 ingredients are:

1) An inspiring role model (or more than one)

Knowing even just one person who has walked the path before you can give you a vision of possibility for yourself.

2) A supportive community

Other people who “get you,” who are walking side-by-side with you on the same journey, who can act as sounding boards, who show you that you’re not alone, and cheer you on.

3) An effective toolkit

Psychology, neuroscience, the field of coaching and the world’s spiritual traditions have each spawned powerful tools (many of which overlap) which can not only help you shift your mindset, but can leverage it to turbocharge your willpower (not to mention your “won’t power” and “want power”!) to create what you want in your life.

When I look back at the moments in my life when I’ve made the most profound transformations, those three ingredients have always been in place. I’m an introspective sort, so I’ve sought out these kinds of experiences throughout my life, and I’ve been fortunate to have many amazing teachers over the years.

Now I’m ready to bring together everything I’ve learned about creative ignition and pay it forward.

This is my best stuff — the work that I know I was put on the planet to do.

If you’re a woman, and you’re ready for a program that will incubate the kind of mindset shift you need to really live the creative life of your dreams, stay tuned for all the details. (And sign up on the list below for first dibs and early bird pricing.)

It’s time to glow, baby!

Have you ever experienced a mindset shift that got YOU to the next level? What were the ingredients that led to that shift for you?

PS — Pssst! Know someone who might benefit from seeing this today? Pass it on!

Hey! Hello! Sign up here!

Update 5/1/12: Click here for details and early bird info.

Sign up here for advance notice & early bird pricing, and I’ll also send you info for how to attend a free Q&A call next month…

The theme in Playing Big for the next two weeks is unhooking from criticism. Kinda (ahem) critical if you want to play big, because the bigger you play, the more you stand out, and the more criticism you’re going to get.

It just comes with the territory.

Criticism is a sign that you’re doing important work.

And as Tara pointed out, criticism tells you a lot more about the critic than it does about YOU.

Someone doesn’t like your writing?

That doesn’t mean your writing sucks, just that it’s not the writing for them.

Your painting didn’t sell?

That doesn’t mean your painting sucks, just that it’s not the right painting for this particular audience.

Plus you know you can’t please everyone, right? The truth is, if you’re getting criticism, it probably means you’re onto something. Think of the heroes in your life. I’ll bet at least some of them have been targets of a lot of criticism. Did they let it stop them?

If they’re one of your heroes, I suspect not.

Homework!

On our call today, Tara gave us a bit of homework that I thought was absolutely brilliant, and which I’m now going to pass on to you:

Head over to Amazon.com, and look up your favorite books by your favorite authors. The books you absolutely LOVE. Scroll down to the reviews and read some of the five-star reviews.

Then (and this is the brilliant part), read some of the really bad reviews. The one- and two-star reviews.

Then ask yourself, do those lousy reviews mean that the book that you loved actually sucks? Ask yourself, do those reviews tell you about the book author, or about the person writing the review?

I spent maybe ten minutes over on Amazon earlier today, checking out bad reviews of books I loved. Wow.

I may just have to add this to my weekly routine, along with reading through the emails I’ve saved from people who have been touched by something I’ve written or created. (Though I also need to learn to unhook from praise, which is the theme for the next Playing Big call.)

Try it, and let me know your reactions.

PS — Pssst! Know someone who might benefit from seeing this today? Pass it on!

One of my favorite parts of Tara Mohr’s Playing Big program* so far is the notion of the Inner Critic.

If that name alone didn’t bring up a clear picture for you, let me flesh it out a bit.

It may manifest as the voice that tells you “you’re not good enough,” or “you’re not ready for this.”

Or the voice of “who are YOU to think you could do that?”

Or the voice of “THEY are so much better than you; you might as well just give up.”

Basically any self-doubt message that keeps you stuck — that’s what Tara would call the Inner Critic.

Havi calls these voices monsters (her Monster Manual* is the niftiest guide I know for learning how to talk to those monsters). I’ve taken to thinking of mine as gremlins (which somehow seem smaller and less threatening to me than monsters, but that’s just me).

Hence my Inner Critic Gremlin.

We all have these critical voices. In fact, they’re wired into us as human beings. (That’s right — if you were thinking you were alone in having gremlins/monsters/an Inner Critic, you are very much not alone.)

Way back in human pre-history, trying something new, making yourself visible — say, by standing alone out on the velt — had a good chance of getting you eaten. Our brains evolved to keep us safe, to avoid anything that might make us likely to become a saber-toothed tiger snack (and hence not pass on our genes to the next generation). And even though the threats we deal with now are NOT saber-toothed tigers, to our primitive lizard brains, they might as well be, because it can seem just that scary.

The problem, of course, is that the kind of thoughts that evolved to keep us safe and alive can also keep us stuck and playing small.

Making a painting, or writing a play, or speaking in public are actually not likely to get us eaten, but the lizard brain doesn’t know this. All the lizard brain knows is “new=scary” and “standing out=dangerous” and “playing big=NO FREAKIN’ WAY!”

With the best of intentions, the lizard brain tries to keep us safe by speaking in the voice of the Inner Critic Gremlin (or monster, or whatever you want to call it). And that leads to NOT following the dreams of our hearts, which in turn leads to a lot of unhappiness and frustration when we live lives of of settling, instead of going after the lives we really, really want.

What to do?

Thanks to Tara and Havi, along with a bunch of other resources and teachers (combined with a lot of self-work), I now know 7 ways to recognize my Inner Critic Gremlin.

I know how to distinguish my Inner Critic Gremlin from realistic thinking.

I know over a dozen different specific tactics for talking to my Inner Critic Gremlin.

And most important of all, I’m practicing hearing my Inner Critic Gremlin’s voice without taking direction from it.

(This is important, because I hate to tell you this, but that voice is NOT EVER going to go away. In fact, the bigger you play, the louder the Inner Critic Gremlin tends to get.)

I say I’m practicing hearing my Inner Critic Gremlin’s voice without taking direction from it, because this stuff takes practice. The Inner Critic Gremlin can be very subtle and very sneaky.

Here’s a recent example:

I managed to sneak by my Inner Critic Gremlin and write my upcoming 19,000-word ebook, Creating Happiness: 9 Essential Secrets for Creative People ([subtitle currently in process]). But when my publisher, Tanner at Aspindle, asked if I’d like to design the cover, possibly incorporating some of my artwork, my first thoughts were “Me? Design the cover for a book that I want to stand out on the virtual shelves of the Amazon Kindle store? Are you kidding? There’s no WAY I’m up to that task!”

and

“I’m not a Graphic Designer!”

and

“My art isn’t nearly graphic and ‘poppy’ enough to do a good job.”

and

“I’m not good enough to do a good job!”

In other words, classic Inner Critic Gremlin stuff. Textbook.

And yet I didn’t recognize it as the Inner Critic Gremlin at all! As far as I was concerned, these thoughts were nothing more or less than The Truth.

Which is, as you may have guessed, one of the Inner Critic Gremlin’s sneakiest tricks: to masquerade as The Truth.

The Power of Mirrors

Thankfully, the story didn’t end there. When I wasn’t entirely thrilled with the mockups that my publisher came up with, I did decide to try my own hand at some designs. But did I pull out some of my artwork, or sit down to use my hard-earned skills as a calligrapher and hand-letter a title?

NO.

I still didn’t give credence to the possibility that my own artwork might be up to the task. Somehow, I had it in my head that my book cover had to have a certain slick, modern look, which (I reasoned) only a professional photo could provide.

So yes, I cranked out a handful of cover mockups… which all used stock photography, and ended up looking so generic and bland that none of my personality shone through at all.

I had a vague sense that none of them was quite “it” yet, but it wasn’t until I sent an email polling my wonderful audience of subscribers for their opinions that I finally woke up. I thought I would just get some help picking which one of the covers to use. What I ended up getting was a kick in the pants, right when I needed it most.

“Your covers need more love!” said one email in reply.

“I think your art speaks volumes…why wouldn’t you put your own work on the cover?” said another.

“I wish you would have been able to incorporate some of your personal art into the design.” said yet another.

And another: “You have such insight and wit, and I think the book cover should show it… I don’t think any of these covers do you justice.”

Snap!

My subscribers mirrored back to me what I already knew myself, and suddenly I saw, clear as day, that what I’d believed to be “The Truth” was nothing but the voice of my Inner Critic Gremlin, trying to keep me small and safe.

What I Learned

Not only did this exercise teach me a lot about how very sneaky my Inner Critic Gremlin can be, but I learned some other valuable lessons as well:

My peeps are not just generous, thoughtful and super-smart, they also really believe in what I’m doing and want to see me succeed. (This is, of course, what anyone building an audience is going for, but validation is always a wonderful thing.)

If you’re creating something you hope will make a difference in the world, getting feedback in advance from the people you’re hoping to impact is a really good thing (because you can then make new iterations that will be even better), and is ultimately less scary than avoiding potential criticism altogether until after your thing is born (when it’s too late to make improvements or changes).

In the case of my cover design, I got feedback from a slew of folks (a sort of mini-version of “crowdsourcing”). In the case of the book itself, I’ve been working with an editor. (Note: This is not the same as “designing by committee,” which is notorious for resulting in crap. The creator needs to hold onto her Big Vision during the iterative process. Not always an easy line to walk. And a big enough topic to be worthy of its own blog post [or several].)

Now when Creating Happiness finally actually comes out, I won’t be pushing it off a ledge into the utter unknown. This doesn’t mean that everyone will like either the cover or the content. You can’t please everyone, regardless of what you do. But at least I’ll know that the cover rings more true of ME for the people on my list (and me!) than it would have otherwise, and that’s nothing to sneeze at.

Meanwhile, one of my supremely talented subscribers offered his services to help me design a better cover, which has led, quite serendipitously, to a very exciting collaboration, and a new direction for a cover design which uses my artwork, and which I’m actually excited about!

You never know what good things will result from putting yourself out there.

Now I’m off to work on the artwork for that new design… (Want to be the first to see it, and possibly to weigh in with a vote of your own? Be sure to subscribe to the blog if you haven’t already!)

Where have you taken direction from your own Inner Critic Gremlin? 

PS — Pssst! Know someone who might benefit from seeing this today? Pass it on!

Announcement Time!

If you’d like to learn some hands-on techniques for recognizing your own Inner Critic Gremlin, and tips for wrangling your Gremlin and bringing it to heal, you’ll love my upcoming Gremlin Training Lab! This 90-minute telephone clinic will be FREE for all Creative Ignition Club members.

Club members will get first dibs, and then if there’s still space I’ll open it up to blog subscribers for $37 (click here to get on that list).

And did you know that while the Clubhouse is being remodeled, membership in the Creative Ignition Club is seriously on sale? Click here to check it out. You get discounts on just about everything I create, plus exclusive access to the Creative Ignition Club online community once the Clubhouse remodel is done.

–

*And yes, those asterisked links are affiliate links, in case you’re wondering, and (sarcasm alert!) could potentially send gobs and gobs of money my way, no doubt enough to pay off all my debt, remodel my kitchen and replace my windows. Though the Playing Big program is currently closed, so all you’ll find there is a sign-up form. Which I think will pay me a commission if you sign up and later buy the program. Though I’m not 100% sure about that. Just sayin’.

Photo by cwasteson at Flickr

Here’s my secret (wait for it, ’cause it’s a big one):

There is no secret.

Or at least there’s no silver bullet.

Or perhaps there is, but the silver bullet is one you have to keep shooting over and over and over and over again. And it’s not very sexy. It’s mundane and boring and, I’m sorry to tell you, not glamorous or exciting at all.

It’s just this:

Get back on the wagon.

Because you will fall off the wagon. You will get stuck. Things will get in the way and pull you off your beautifully-laid track. Over and over again.

Your job is to just keep reminding yourself of what is really important. What makes you happy? What are your core values? What are your top priorities? What do you want to be able to say you did, rather than regretting that you didn’t, when you come to the end of your life?

Your job is to keep looking at where you’re saying yes that you might, just possibly, try saying no.

Your job is to be “your own bodyguard,” as Elizabeth Gilbert puts it in this 44-second video:

Your job is to be constantly vigilant about closing the inevitable cracks where Other Stuff seeps in to get in the way.

Your job is to keep committing and re-committing — over and over and over again — to putting your creative thing(s) at the top of your priority list.

Falling Off the Wagon (Again)

Here’s the truth: I fell horribly off track in the past few weeks. First, I realized that in maintaining my goal of writing 750 words minimum every day (which, me being your classic “overachiever” [even though I really despise that word*], actually averaged more like 1200+ words/day) toward completing my Book-Like Object (or BLO for short**), I was NOT maintaining my goal of getting to all the other writing I needed to.

{Translation (for those of you for whom my stream-of-consciousness run-on sentences are a bit much): I realized that in maintaining goal of writing 750 words every day on my BLO, I was NOT maintaining my goal of getting to all the other writing I needed to.}

In fact, I was stressing myself the hell out, because although I LOVED that I was starting my day on my BLO (while at the same time, I have to add, riding my exercise bike  [me being the Queen of Multi-Tasking]), and it was AWESOME that I was often spending an hour, two hours or even more on said BLO-writing (bliss!), I was falling horribly behind on Other Important Stuff That Needs To Get Done.

{Translation: In fact, I was stressing myself out, because I was falling horribly behind on other stuff.}

This is not a good thing.

My solution, then, was to set aside 3-4 days/week to do my other Important Writing (blog posts for Living A Creative Life, guest blog posts, web pages, Important Email Missives). And to set aside the other days to write on my BLO.

Except that it never really worked out that way.

Instead, somehow I ended up pretty much just doing work-work all the time, rather than Important Work That Doesn’t Pay The Bills (But Might Someday). And given that I had put my Making Art pot on a back burner of my Passion Pluralite Stove in order to rotate my Writing BLO pot to the front burner, I wasn’t making art, either.

Something was very wrong with this picture.

(Though I should interject [if one can be said to interject upon oneself] that I was playing my ukulele every day, and even learning new songs [videos coming soonish!]. So it’s not like I was completely ignoring my Creative Spirit, just that she wasn’t getting enough of what she needs to be totally happy. Just sayin’. A Passion Pluralite Creative Spirit is rather more demanding in some ways than a Single-Focused Creative Spirit.)

So my attempt to bring more balance into my life actually threw me out of balance in the other direction. And THEN I went away on Retreat.

Which was wonderful (and really, really hard in some ways, too), but even if it had been 100% wonderful it was a disruption of my home routine, and when I came home there was a ton of catching up to do, which exacerbated the disruption.

And nothing throws me off track like a disruption to my routine!

I am a Newton’s Laws of Motion kind of gal. A body in motion stays in motion and all that. And a body at rest (or at motion-that-isn’t-doing-my-creative-things), stays that way. Ie. inertia.

Time For a Course-Correction

So I stopped and took a moment to ask myself what was I doing differently when things were working? What tools in my toolkit could I pull out and put to use?

One of My Favorite Tools: My Intention Chart for Multiple Commitments

Back at the start of the year, when I decided to take on the #12in12 daily commitment challenge (a different 30-day commitment every month of 2012), I created a chart to help me keep track of my growing list of commitments. I call it my Intention Chart. There’s space for me to write what each commitment goal is, to mark off if I kept my commitment goal on any given day, and even to write a note about that day’s commitment goal.

(Psst… I put a downloadable version of my Intention Chart in my new Secret Treasure Chest for subscribers, so if you want one of your own, sign up in the form at the top right and you’ll get the link and password in a few days.)

Something about the ritual of filling in the calendar days, writing down my daily goals for the month, and setting a Primary Intention (by filling it in at the top of the chart) makes my commitment to myself more formal. I’m keeping track now, after all, and I don’t want to break a consistent record!

One of the things that had changed in the past month, I realized, was that I’d fallen off in my use of the chart. Hell, I hadn’t even printed one out for March!

Hmmm…

When falling off the wagon coincides with falling off in the use of a particular tool, it’s a good sign that it’s time to bring that tool out again and add it back into the mix. It may not be a silver bullet, but it may help, and when fighting inertia and Resistance, my philosophy is to use all the help I can get.

So the other day I printed out a fresh copy of my Intention Chart. And today, right after my Journaling In Bed time and a yummy breakfast of broccoli pancakes, I started back up on my morning Write-Ride (in which I write on the on-its-last-legs laptop while working up a sweat on the old-as-the-hills exercise bike). In 45 minutes I was dripping sweat and I had written 849 words of this blog post and 635 words of notes for my BLO.

And I felt great!

Marking off those accomplishments on my Intention Chart felt great too. I now have the chart posted with magnets on a file cabinet just to my left as I type on my iMac — a constant reminder of my commitments to myself.

Then (BONUS!) later in the day, lo and behold, I even did a little 15 Minutes a Day ArtSparking, playing with pastels on a painting that I’d layered with watercolor ground at the Retreat:

I don’t think it’s a coincidence that when I woke up this morning I also had a breakthrough on a possible way to structure my BLO (which is what I wrote in my Journaling In Bed time and typed during my Write-Ride). After all, everything affects everything else.

Aaaahhhhh… It feels like I’m back on the wagon. :)

At least until the next time I fall off.

But as I like to say, in my year of Self-Compassion, Untangle and Practice, the most important practice of all is the practice of getting back on the wagon.

Tell me, what tools do you use to help get yourself back on the wagon after you fall off?

PS — Pssst! Know someone who might benefit from seeing this today? Pass it on!

* Because it implies that one has somehow managed to achieve more than one is capable of. Which doesn’t make any sense at all! If you achieved it, you were capable of achieving it, period.

** I call it my BLO (or Book-Like Object), because that nasty little gremlin, aka my Inner Critic, goes absolutely nuts when I so much as think about the possibility of writing a book. But for some reason, I can talk til I’m blue in the face about my BLO and the gremlin doesn’t bat an eye. I toss her some pretty nail polishes (with sparkles), and she’s entranced for hours. It’s awesome.

Photo by Crysti at Flickr

When I was 13, I stopped doing art.

Not that I gave up on all creative pursuits. I played viola in the school orchestra, and at 16 I discovered dance, my first Bliss, which I pursued with a manic passion, until I was permanently sidelined by an injury a few years later (long story).

But drawing? Painting? Making cool stuff with my hands? That, it seemed to me at the time, was the purview of other folks.

Meanwhile, while I was focusing on other things, my friend Karen was honing her already-significant drawing and design skills. A visit with her to the art classroom in high school, where other classmates’ works lined the walls and shelves, seemed to offer irrefutable evidence that art was something other people had a monopoly on.

They were the artists. Therefore (or so I believed), I wasn’t.

I forged ahead, through college and grad school, with a rather zombie-like doggedness, and pretty much gave up on my creative spirit. (Academia has a way of sucking creativity out of you.)

The inner creative child cannot easily be suppressed forever, though, and thankfully, finally, at 28, I “re-discovered” mine. She was not dead, as I’d almost come to believe, but just needed some permission and play to spring fully back to life.

I gave my inner creative child art and creativity classes in every form and genre I could find — writing, painting, drawing, ceramics, calligraphy — and that last one, calligraphy, bit me hard. I was quickly hooked, immersed myself in the pursuit of mastering this art form, and gradually, over the years, I turned it into my livelihood.

The “Not An Artist” title, I discovered, had never been an accurate one, although I should say that it took me a number of years to fully claim the title as “Artist” (a fact which deserves, and no doubt will get, its own blog post another time).

Now I can only shake my head and laugh sadly at the pain those years of denying my creative spirit caused me. I now refer to the time from age 13 to 28 as “my 15-year hiatus.”

The Persistence of Resistance

I’d like to tell you that I and my inner creative child lived happily ever after from that point on, but I’d be lying.

As I share in the video above (and in this post), the reality is that, after I had finally reconnected with my creative spirit, it didn’t take long for the demon of Resistance to rear its ugly head and try and separate us once again.

What helped? That time around (because, dear reader, I hate to tell you, but Resistance comes in a multitude of costumes and is nothing if not persistent), what brought me and my creative spirit together again was the book The Artist’s Way, by Julia Cameron, now known the world over as a classic in the realm of helping people reclaim their innate creativity.

Julia gave me permission to play. To experiment. To discover what was inside me to discover. To be okay with and embrace my own, unique way of dancing with my inner muse.

I still think fondly of that time of re-emergence, and Julia Cameron has my undying gratitude.

If I were to do it all again, though, this time around I wouldn’t go it alone. I’ve learned how powerful it is to go through a transformative process in community with others on the same path.

The really cool thing is that I do get to do it all again. We all do.

I don’t mean re-reading and re-doing The Artist’s Way (although that’s certainly an option!) I mean allowing my creative spirit to grow, re-emerge, shed its skin, become more truly me and shine ever more brightly.

And the best part of all is that now, oh-so-many years later, I get to guide other people on their own journeys of creative re-discovery. That’s my main focus here, in the Circles I run, in my coaching practice, and in the courses and workshops I’m brewing up.

Playing Around Online

Speaking of which (see how I did that?), I’ve got just such a course coming up in about a month, which I’m super-excited to be co-teaching with my brilliant partner and fellow artist and coach, Kelly Hevel. It’s called Playing Around Online, and it’s our way of introducing ourselves, and our new joint venture, to you.

(It’s also our online version of what we’re brewing up in “3-D”: creative immersion vacations in inspiring locations around the world! Coming September 29-October 7, Playing Around Istanbul — a week-long creativity retreat in (wait for it…) Istanbul! Yeah, you seriously want to mark your calendar and start saving your pennies for that one. But back to Playing Around Online…)

For 12 weeks, from March 14-May 30, we’ll gently lead you in an ongoing “playdate for the big kids,” where you’ll get to shed your inhibitions, try out new techniques, inject your personality into your art, writing, and creative crafts — and learn to use your unique life story as inspiration!

I’ll be sharing more about Playing Around Online over the coming weeks (including the “grand opening” of our website). For now, I invite you just to notice how your body and soul respond to the idea of 12 weeks together, attending to your creative spirit.

Excited? Scared? Raring to go? Resistant?

Any one of those reactions could be your inner creative telling you it’s time for this.

No need to make any decisions right now — just notice. And pay special attention to that voice of Resistance, which might be saying something like “You’re not an artist!” or “You don’t deserve this!” or “You don’t need this!” or “What a ridiculous waste of time!” or “What a ridiculous waste of money!” or “You’re not good enough!”

Um, yeah. (All voices I’ve heard in my own head, by the way, when seeking to dance more fully with my own inner muse. And pretty reliable indicators that whatever is making them shout so loud is probably exactly what I need!)

Free Tele-Party!

Ready to battle that Resistance demon? Mark your calendar and fill in the form below to come to the free tele-party* that Kelly and I are hosting on Wednesday, March 7, from 10:30-noon PST, Living the Creative Life: Fact vs. Fiction. We’ll be sharing the stories of our own creative journeys (including how we’ve battled the Resistance demon!), exposing the myths and truths around what it means to live a creative life, and inviting you to join in what we hope will be a lively conversation.

Plus you’ll get a chance to win a free spot in Playing Around Online — how cool is that?

If you’re even the slightest bit interested, just fill in the form below (or if you’re reading this on email and the form isn’t working, just click here to fill out the online form) and we’ll keep you posted on how to register for the free tele-party and the chance to win that scholarship spot.

I hope you’ll join us on March 7th!

What forms has the Resistance demon taken in your life? How have you succeeded in battling it?

PS – Pssst! Know someone who might benefit from seeing this today? Pass it on!

* What’s a tele-party? It’s like a party of creatives (including “wannabe,” and think-they’re-not-creatives), over the phone. We could call it a teleseminar, but that sounds so “markety,” dry and academic — which we definitely are not!

If you like to write, you should know about the cool thing my friend LaVonne has going on over at her blog, one.blue.berry.

LaVonne loves stories — she loves to write them (which she does exquisitely well — check out her juicy memoir about how she married a gorgeous Greek for his green card!), she loves to read them, and she loves to share them.

To that end, she recently started a delightful little project — sign up for her story prompts, and twice a week a one-word prompt will land in your inbox. Reply back with your (true) story — either in an email, or if you prefer you can leave a voice message on her phone system — and you may find yourself published over at one.blue.berry.

I’ve been getting LaVonne’s prompts for a couple of weeks now, and they always spark a memory and an idea, but until yesterday I never managed to carve the time to actually write it down.

This latest prompt, though, grabbed me by the throat.

“Tell me a story about: A Decision,” the email said, and it was as if I were possessed. I had to write it. I couldn’t not write it.

Maybe 20 minutes later I sent LaVonne 408 words about my decision, at age 19, to drop out of college and audition for the dance division at the Juilliard School in New York.

That’s all I’ll say about it here — if you want to read it, LaVonne tells me it will go live on one.blue.berry sometime next week. (I know, I’m mean. So sue me.)

Writing the story got me thinking about more than just that decision, though. This post is the result.

A Paradox: Playing Big and Playing Small at the Same Time

My decision to buck expectations, fly off to New York by myself and audition for Juilliard contains an enormous paradox: on the one hand, what a big, bold move for shy, 19-year-old me! My heart swells with pride for that younger self who did something that scared her so much.

Following my dreams, moving to New York to dance, was what one might call “playing big.”

On the other hand, I remember being struck by how the other dancers at Juilliard didn’t hold back in class. They danced full out. They went for it.

It may surprise you, but this had not been my experience back home. A lot of the time, in dance class, and no doubt in other parts of my life, I stuck to playing small. I danced “in the shadows.” It felt safer that way.

Holding Back

When I first “discovered” dance at age 16, I was thrilled at the attention it brought me. Years of being picked last for sports teams had filled me with a belief that I was a klutz, and yet after my first “real” dance class the teacher kept asking me which competitor’s studio I danced at. He didn’t believe me that my only previous dance experience had been through my high school gym “dance” classes, which were notorious for being, shall we say, light on technique.

Apparently I had some facility at this thing. Who knew?

For the next few years I dove into this new passion, dreaming big dreams of a career as a professional dancer/choreographer, while at the same time not quite believing it was possible.

My life revolved around dance and high school — there was nothing else. I was in dance classes for hours every afternoon and evening, with additional classes in the mornings during vacations. I applied myself furiously.

And yet I also held back.

I remember being so afraid of making a fool of myself, so afraid of failing, that unless I felt 100% confident in what I was doing, I practically refused to dance full out. That’s not the most efficient route to mastery, but this self-conscious display of hiding almost seemed the thing to do, in a studio where so many of the serious dancers were insecure teens like myself.

So while I dreamed of playing big, in my real life I played a lot smaller than my full size. (While at the same time I starved and vomited myself well below my literal full size, but that’s a topic for another time.)

The Power of Models

When I saw my classmates at Juilliard really going for it, holding nothing back, it was a revelation. It suddenly occurred to me that yes, if you want to make a splash, if you want to do this thing (whatever it might be), hiding and playing small is not going to cut it. No dance company it its right mind would hire a dancer who didn’t give it her all — I mean, duh!

Somehow, though, I needed to see my classmates owning the space outside of the shadows in order to give myself permission to be big. To take up space. To go for it.

I can’t blame that younger self for trying to stay safe. Some people can bust through glass ceilings all on their own. The rest of us need models to show us what’s possible.

There’s a reason activists raise a ruckus about film and TV portrayals of people in power being predominantly white and male. If you don’t see any examples of other people like you, it’s hard to imagine that they might exist, and more importantly, that you might fill similar shoes.

I’ve shared many times on this blog that it wasn’t until Chris Guillebeau appeared on my radar that it even occurred to me that I could really create a sustainable living doing what I really, really wanted. (Not that he’s the only model out there, by any means, but he was the first that I became consciously aware of.)

Stepping Out of the Shadows

One beautiful model of playing big is writer, coach and personal growth teacher, Tara Mohr — a personal hero and inspiration of mine.

I actually first encountered Tara years ago when she and her then fiance ordered a ketubah from me for their wedding. Since then she’s taken the internet by storm, blogging regularly for The Huffington Post, and appearing in national publications, and on national radio and TV.

Check out how clearly Tara articulates herself while in the hot-seat on The Today Show:

Visit msnbc.com for breaking news, world news, and news about the economy

Clearly, Tara doesn’t let fear of failure — or criticism — hold her back from her big dreams and visions. She’s dancing full-out with the world, right in the spotlight, and the world is better for it.

She’s a model for all of us.

Says Tara:

Most brilliant women don’t see their own brilliance and are “playing small” and they know it: not speaking up, doubting themselves, seeing themselves as “not yet ready” to launch the big idea, the organization, to put themselves at the table.

One of Tara’s missions in life is to help women leaders learn “how to quiet self-doubt, clarify purpose, and become comfortable with taking bold action in the workplace and in the world.”

Amen.

Playing Big

About a year ago Tara unveiled her flagship 6 -month course for women who are ready to bust through their own personal glass ceilings, Playing Big (I’m very proud to be an affiliate partner, and yes, that’s an affiliate link). Now the course is back, and Oh. My. GOD. Do I want to take it!

Want! Want! Want!

Had I not just signed up for both Pace Smith & Kelly Kingman’s The Way of the Peaceful Entrepreneur (also an affiliate link, though registration is no longer open) and Jennifer Louden and Michele Christensen’s Teach Now (that is not an affiliate link, but I wish it were [hint, hint, Jen and Michele!]), I would so sign up for Playing Big!

As it is, I’ll attend Tara’s free seminar on January 19 (there’s still space, as I type this), and hem and haw, and if I’m wise with my limited time and money I’ll take a deep breath and promise myself I’ll take it next time.

Sigh…

Meanwhile, I’ll look to all of the above powerhouses as models as I continue to dance myself out of the shadows and play bigger, and bigger, and bigger.

I hope you’ll join me. The world needs us.

(And if you sign up for Playing Big, will you tell me all about it, pretty please?)

Where have you gotten stuck dancing in the shadows? How are you continuing to play small, and what would playing big really look like in your life? Who are your role models for playing big?

PS — Pssst! Know someone who might benefit from seeing this today? Pass it on!

Dancer photo by Shoofly @ deviantART.com (Sweet Carolina Design & Photo at Flickr)

Have you ever noticed that when you make a big decision and commitment, the Universe seems to choose that very moment to send you the exact thing that will most challenge you?

Happens every time.

“I will no longer do that kind of client work, so I can make room to bring in the kind of work I really want!” [Cue ringing of phone, with a client on the other end of the line, asking for exactly the kind of work you're trying to stop doing, with the funds to pay for it.]

“I am getting back to my exercise routine, dammit, starting today!” [Cue the entrance of your youngest child, who has just stuck a rock in her ear, necessitating an emergency trip to Urgent Care during what would have been your gym time.]

“I am going back off sugar and wheat — my body just can’t take it!” [Cue the arrival of an Evite to a dessert party hosted by your best friend.]

Or how about this:

After taking on too much (again — how does that happen?) and falling off the wagon of your lovely 3-Hours-in-the-Morning-Creative-Work-Ritual (again), you are committed to spending even just 15 minutes making art today, AND working on your e-book, dammit!

And just as you’re clearing the clutter off your drafting table, so ready to sink your teeth back into creating you can taste it, the phone rings.

You’re all set to ignore it (after all, the answering machine will handle it), except that the volume’s up, and it turns out to be a past client. With an emergency.

The ketubah arrived weeks ago, but they only just now took a close look at it, and there’s a word there that shouldn’t be.

And the wedding’s on Monday.

Which is a holiday.

And today is Friday.

There goes your lovely morning of creativity.

There goes your Friday yoga class, too, when the replacement ketubah isn’t fully printed by the time you’d have to leave to get there.

(Oh, and there goes $80 — ka-ching — to pay for the overnight shipping and Saturday delivery. Ouch.)

Things like this are going to happen, of course. It’s Murphy’s Law. And when you’re on track, when you’re getting nourished every day, an occasional disruption, while annoying, is not a big deal.

But when you’re out of whack and trying to get back on track, a disruption of a few hours can feel like

So.

Part 2 (In which I regroup)

First step: Notice that it isn’t actually the end of the world.

Second step: Observe that the strength of your reaction is a pretty good sign that you are really ready to make that change.

Third step: Thank the Universe for sending such a clear sign that yes, it is really time to make that change. (Thank you, Universe.)

Fourth step: Look at what systems might need shoring up to help get you — and keep you — on track.

Part 3 (In which I get more specific)

Me? I’m re-committing to blocking off my mornings for creative strategizing, art-making, music & writing.

(Not that this would have saved my sorry ass on this particular morning, but it would have made what felt like a major disaster feel more like the minor annoyance that it actually was in the scheme of things.) (Though I confess that wasting $80 on shipping charges still irks me.)

I’m also looking at the feasibility (ooh — big word!) of shifting my entire schedule over a few hours.

My current M.O. is to work late into the night (in a mad attempt to get stuff done), which invariably leaves me getting a late start in the morning, but still wrung out and in need of a nap (which I almost never actually get).

It’s a system I know is not working optimally, but I’ve been too scared of failure to even try to change it.

The New Year, though, presents a natural “blank slate” in which things that don’t normally seem possible for some reason feel… worth an attempt, at least.

I actually love being up and at ‘em earlier in the day. I dream of being a morning person, and truth be told, my body would really, really, really prefer it. (Yes, please!)

It’s just the rest of me that’s not so keen. (No way!)

In short,

I don’t like to go to bed.

I want to keep going, like the Energizer Bunny. Honestly, if I had my druthers, I’d eliminate the need for sleep entirely.

Alas, that’s not going to happen. And I wasn’t blessed with low-sleep-need genetics — I’m hard-wired to require more than 8 hours for optimal health and happiness… and yet I rarely ever get it.

As we launch into 2012, though, and as I think about what I want this year to be about for me, I keep coming back to Susan Falcone’s lovely model of 2011 as her Year of Self-Compassion.

Self-Compassion — compassion towards ME, treating myself, first and foremost, with compassion at the forefront — means a lot of things.

• It means scaling back, streamlining, NOT taking on more than I can handle.
• It means thinking carefully, practicing patience, and NOT jumping in with both feet before I’ve figured out how to swim.
• It means giving myself lots of what makes me happiest (time for art, music, walks, friends…) and NOT filling my schedule with obligations that don’t feed me.
• It means being forgiving and gentle with myself, and NOT holding up SuperHuman expectations (and then beating myself up when I don’t achieve them).

(For example: much as I would LOVE to pursue a full-time art business AND a full-time Uke Diva performing and recording career, AND write full time, AND be a full-time inspirationalist/coachsultant/teacher/”can-opener to the creative spirit,” unless and until I clone myself THIS IS NOT POSSIBLE. At least not all at the same time. Who knows — my art or my music may become my full-time primary focus at some point down the road. I may have a flourishing touring schedule in my 70s. But meanwhile, I rely on my Stovetop Model of Life Design to keep me sane.)

Self-compassion also means getting adequate sleep and rest.

So.

Part 4 (In which I disclose the experiment I’ve been reluctant to reveal for fear of massive and embarrassing public failure)

It’s scary as hell for me to share this, but here goes.

For the month of January, I am going to attempt a very radical (for me) thing.

The Great Bedtime Experiment

All you larks will be sniggering, no doubt, but to a night owl like me, getting to bed before midnight (hell, before 2am, most nights!) is nigh impossible.

But I’m going to see if I can do it.

I’ve learned that accountability — especially public accountability — is a powerful motivator. My ArtSpark newsletter got me to make art like nothing else in the past year. I know people are expecting a piece of art to land in their inbox, and WOW does that get me creating!

Knowing I’m on the hook to produce is way more effective at getting me to play in my studio than just about anything else.

Honestly, I find this fact about myself incredibly annoying, but I’m still playing it for all it’s worth!

I’ve also learned that taking on a time-limited challenge — even when it’s not a publicly-made commitment — is very effective.

I never signed up officially to 750words.com, but I faithfully wrote my 750 words every day during the month of November (while riding an exercise bike, no less!)

So.

I’ve discussed it with my sweetie, and he’s ready and willing to support me in my commitment, which is…

(Drumroll, please..)

In service of self-compassion, and with a larger goal of creating more psychic and energetic space for creative abundance, I, Melissa Dinwiddie, hereby commit to getting to bed — lights out — by 11pm every night in the month of January, 2012.

Official caveat: exceptions will be considered and may be made on a case-by-case basis, only for special events, such as plays, concerts, gigs, or out-of-town visitors.

This means:

• I will have to turn my computer OFF by 9:30pm at the absolute latest. (Okay, maybe 10:00.)
• No more “just one more thing..!”
• I may will definitely have to scale back in ways foreseen and not foreseen. (Blog post not done? Too bad — it’ll have to go out a day later. Or simply not post at all until next week.)
• I will have to do a much better job of planning ahead. (The secret ulterior motive!!!!)

Do I really think I can do this?

Honestly, I don’t know. I may be confessing to major fails very soon, though I hope not. But this is an experiment, after all.

My hope is that the Great Bedtime Experiment will do more than just get me to go to bed earlier. I have a sneaking suspicion that it could have a much larger impact than the behavior changes I’ve listed above.

This feels really big to me.

Whatever happens, I’ll keep you posted here.

Happy New Year!

Do you have a big change you’d like to make? What would get you to take on the challenge of actually trying it?

PS — Pssst! Know someone who might benefit from seeing this today? Pass it on!