September 13, 2013

Overcoming Stage Fright: My Secret to Feeling Comfortable In Front of a Crowd

Last Thursday I got up on stage and and sang (occasionally improvisationally) and spoke (mostly improvisationally) in front of an audience of a few hundred people.

For three and a half hours solid.

I was leading Rosh Hashanah services, something I’ve done for so many years now I’ve lost track.

As I stood behind the podium, I marveled at how much fun I was having, and how comfortable I am on the bima (stage), taking a leadership role in front of a large group. (I’ve been told that visitors to our congregation often assume I’m a rabbi or a cantor — in other words, a professional.)

You’d think I was born good at this.

Well, ha. Nothing could be further from the truth!

The truth is, although leading Rosh Hashanah morning services (and Yom Kippur morning services, which I’ll be leading tomorrow) feels totally natural to me now, and one of my favorite things to do is perform for an audience (though usually it’s singing jazz with a trio, or singing my original songs with my ukulele), it did not start out that way.

Before my synagogue started holding our own High Holy Days services, back in 1996, for a few years I went to services at Stanford Hillel. I remember sitting in the congregation inside Memorial Auditorium in 1995, enthralled by the gorgeous voice and elegant poise of the young woman student up on stage who assisted the rabbi as a lay cantor.

How I wished it was me up there! But that seemed… well.. impossible, really. Just a fantasy.

Then I was ~~invited~~ recruited to join the board of my synagogue (I was still in my 20s at that point, and no doubt they were thrilled to have someone that young and energetic to ~~invite~~ recruit!) And when it became obvious that I could carry a tune (though I certainly didn’t think of myself as a Singer!), when we held our own High Holy Days services the following year, I was ~~invited~~ recruited to help lead the rounds.

I remember shaking in my shoes when the time came to get up onstage. My mouth felt as dry as Death Valley, and all breath had seemingly left my body.

It’s amazing I could be heard at all. Even with a microphone!

But I made it through… and was ~~invited~~ recruited to lead one of the services the following year, in addition to helping with the rounds.

What? Me lead a service? No way! I’m not ready!

“Yes you are,” came the response.

And you know what? Although I wasn’t ready when they ~~invited~~ recruited me, I got recordings of all the prayers and songs I needed to learn, practiced like mad, and by the time the next High Holy Days rolled around, I was ready.

And I was nervous as hell.

But I made it through.

And a few years later I was ~~invited~~ recruited to take on a bigger leadership role, leading the entire morning service on Rosh Hashanah. And again, though I wasn’t ready at the moment I was ~~invited~~ recruited, I got recordings of all the additional prayers and songs I needed to learn, practiced like mad, and by the time the next High Holy Days rolled around, I was ready.

And I was nervous… but a lot less nervous.

Meanwhile, in 2002 I went to my first music camp, Puget Sound Guitar Workshop. When I found out on the first day of camp that there was a student concert in a few days, for which everyone was encouraged to front an act, I almost had a panic attack!

No way! I’m not ready! I thought. But I also really wanted to do it…

So I ~~invited~~ recruited two other women to join me in singing one of the rounds we do during High Holy Days services. And I was nervous, but I made it through.

(And people told me later that you could hear a pin drop in the building when we were singing — everyone stopped talking, even in the dining hall next door.)

I went to camp again the following year, and this time my goal for the student concert was to play my guitar and sing at the same time. I ~~invited~~ recruited a band to back me while I sang Could You Love Me One More Time.

And my hands were shaking so much from the adrenaline, I barely managed to eke out a single chord. But I made it through. And it was fun.

Meanwhile, the years passed, and the High Holy Days came and went, and each year I had to practice a little less to remember what to do. And each year I felt a little more comfortable, and a little less nervous.

And meanwhile, the years passed, and I started taking singing lessons, and classes in jazz singing. And I started going to open mikes. And I started performing. And little by little, I felt more comfortable, and less nervous.

That’s how it works. That’s the secret: if you want to stop being scared of doing something, you’ve got to do it.

As a friend of mine used to say, “If you do something often enough, it becomes normal.”

Leading services has become so normal, that now I simply look forward to it every year. That stage now feels like home to me. And every year I think of that young student at Stanford Hillel whom I envied so much, and I smile when I realize that I have become my own version of her.

So if there’s something you’re secretly (or not-so secretly) wishing you could do, but you don’t feel ready, don’t feel like you could ever do such a big, bold thing, I hope you’ll remember my story and just start moving toward it.

Who knows, you might turn around one day and find yourself living your fantasy.

Then you can write me an email and thank me.

May you and yours be inscribed and sealed in the Book of Life for a good year.

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

January 27, 2013

Ready or Not (and You Probably Are… Except When You’re Not)

“I was very, very scared. I just didn’t know if I could do it.”
-Ben Affleck, in an interview with Terry Gross, on directing Argo, his first feature film

More often than not, when we’re looking longingly at a big, scary goal, we’re ready much sooner than we think we are.

One of the common features of any big goal that’s very close to your heart is that it feels like you don’t yet have what you need — are not yet the person you need to be — in order to follow it.

In fact, such a feeling of “unreadiness” is one of the hallmarks of a true calling.

Here’s a secret:

It’s the very act of following the calling (or going after the big, scary goal) that will grow you into the person you need to be in order to follow it. (Click to tweet this!) [Read more…]

November 1, 2012

Principles of Play: Rules for the Creative Sandbox, Part 3

This is the third of a 3-part series on my 10 Rules for the Creative Sandbox.

The Creative Sandbox is that space of flow, experimentation and play that, as a creator, I most long to be in. It’s where you lose yourself while finding your joy, and after early childhood, it can be a hard place to find. In my journey toward living my most creative life I’ve found 10 “rules” that have served me well, which I share with you in this series.

Read the full introduction here and Part 2 here.

10 Rules for the Creative Sandbox: Rules 6-10

6. When in doubt, ask “What if…?”

Experimentation is all about trying things, just to see what will happen. Creativity is not about perfection and technical mastery; it’s about finding solutions to problems, making discoveries and allowing them to pull you in a new direction. When you express an idea in a way that pleases you, you may find yourself in a groove, which feels great… until it turns into a rut.

Ruts never feel like the Creative Sandbox. They feel more like a trap. The quickest way out? Ask “What would happen if…?”

What if I drip the paint instead of brush it?

What if I turn the canvas upside down?

What if I sew on the canvas?

What if the character in my story goes left instead of right?

What if I tap my ukulele instead of strumming it?

These are the kinds of questions that can quickly get you joyfully sloshing metaphorical sand about once again.

7. When you get to a crossroads, take the path you fear.

As a visual artist (and in fact as a performer, coach and teacher, too), I prefer to work very improvisationally. I smoosh paint and ink around on paper or canvas just to see what it will do (see #6 above). Kinda like finger painting for adults. I may do this for several layers, then later, after the paper is dry, I find interesting sections on the paper to tear or cut out and turn into a finished piece. (I demonstrate my entire process step-by-step in the video tutorials that come in my Playshop-In-A-Box.)

This is where my editor comes in. Even though I come to the Creative Sandbox focused on process, there’s always a back-and-forth between my 4-year-old and my editor.

It’s something of a contradiction: I have the intention of keeping the focus on process, but I confess I do also aim to end up with something that pleases me, something that feels well-crafted and “finished.”

This creates a bit of tension. There’s often a moment in the art-creation process when a piece doesn’t feel quite “done,” but there’s always a risk that the thing I’m contemplating adding may end up ruining rather than improving it.

My rule for myself here is to always take the route that may lead to “ruin,” even though I might very well lose something I like. (Another reason I adhere to #4 above.)

My thinking here is that I don’t want to get stuck in “preciousness,” stalled in the land of UFOs (Un-Finished Objects) because of fear I’d mess them up. That’s a sure path right back to stuckness — the opposite direction of where I’d like to be.

I’d rather crank out a bunch of “ruined disasters” than never finish anything out of fear I’ll mess up. (Click to tweet this.) That’s the Creative Sandbox path of growth and learning

Do the thing you fear. (If you’re a visual artist, go ahead and make liberal use of your digital camera or scanner if you really want to hang on to what you’ve got before you take that risky step!)

8. The Creative Sandbox is a gremlin-free zone

Gremlins are my term for those self-critical, self-doubting voices that we all have inside. The one that says “You’re not good enough,” the one that says, “Who do you think you are to try this?” and any variation thereof. Also known as the Inner Critic, the saboteur, monsters… they have a lot of names, these gremlins.

Tara Mohr likens this nasty internal voice to a guard patrolling the edge of your comfort zone. As long as you stay safely inside, the guard can go to sleep, but the second you get close to the edge, watch out — that’s when those nasty voices start yelling at you.

Learning to tame those gremlin voices is a life-long process. I’ve learned a lot of ninja gremlin-training tools, but the most important one of all is just to notice when it’s a gremlin talking, hear its voice and decide not to take direction from it.

The thing about true creativity is that it always happens in uncertainty, decidedly outside of your comfort zone. (Think about it: if there’s certainty around what you’re doing, that means it’s been done before, and if it’s been done before, it’s not truly creative, right?)

That means that every single time you engage in a creative act, your gremlins are bound to get loud and nasty.

Knowing this, I advise consciously setting up your Creative Sandbox space as a gremlin-free zone. You can alert any gremlins lurking about that they are not allowed inside, and if (when!) you notice any appearing, physically remove them.

You can have fun with this by literally acting out picking up said gremlin(s) and putting them outside and closing the door, or imagining drop-kicking them out the window (in a less peaceful mood), or sending them off somewhere. (I like to send mine off to get a pedicure. My gremlins get way more pedicures than I do!)

9. The Creative Sandbox is a comparison-free zone.

Another danger lurking around the Creative Sandbox is something I like to call the Comparison Trap.

I think I step in this trap more than anyone on the planet. (I’m a 4 on the Enneagram, and our core “vice” or “passion” [read: challenge] is envy, so it’s not really much of a surprise.)

If you’ve ever looked at someone else’s work and thought, “Man, I wish I could create something as awesome as that! My work will never be that good. I suck,” you know what it feels like to be caught in the Comparison Trap.

Stepping in the Comparison Trap always starts up those gremlin voices.

I had a revelation about this comparison thing many years ago, in a workshop on making decorated letters. Several of us had spread our experiments out on the floor, and I was admiring another student’s work, wishing my work was as cool and interesting as hers, feeling badly about myself. My work just felt so boring in comparison.

Imagine my surprise when this very student turned to me and said “Melissa, your work is so cool and interesting! I wish my work was like yours.”

Something clicked for me right then. I realized that someone else’s work will always feel more interesting and exciting to me than my own, because their work comes from their unconscious — a place that is completely unknown to me. My own unconscious, though not entirely known, is dramatically more familiar a space to me than anyone else’s, so of course my work is going to feel more familiar (and hence more “boring”) to me than theirs!

The truth is that each of us has a unique voice, a unique way of expressing ourselves, which is as valid as any other way. Using that unique way of yours to express what’s inside of you is your birthright, and your gift to the Universe. (And if any judgment starts to hone in on your Creative Sandbox time, don’t forget rule #2.)

10. The Creative Sandbox is a space of self-compassion.

I always like to say that the most important practice we can engage in is the practice of getting back ON the wagon.

Or if you don’t like the metaphor of falling off the wagon, the most important practice we can engage in is the practice of starting again.

You are human. You will make commitments and life will get in the way and you will break them. It happens.

Falling off from a commitment is not a sign that you’re a failure and should give up. It’s an opportunity to remind yourself of how you feel when you’re doing what you love, and to compare that with how you feel when you’re not. It’s a chance to notice, and to choose to start again.

You always get to start again.

In her (highly recommended) book, The Willpower Instinct, Kelly McGonigal cites research that shows that people who forgive themselves for their willpower failures are dramatically more likely to succeed in their willpower goals than those who beat themselves up. Despite what you might have learned otherwise, despite the conventional wisdom that “a good beating” might be what we need to get ourselves back in line, research proves that self-compassion, rather than self-flagellation, is the true route to success.

So there you have it! My 10 Rules for the Creative Sandbox. If these rules work for you, here’s a little graphic I made to help you keep them front-of-mind (click here or on the image to download a printable PDF):

Is there anything you’d add? What “rules” help you get into that state of play and flow?

Pssst! It’s my birthday!

In case you didn’t get the memo…

I’m giving up my birthday (November 5th!) for charity: water, to bring clean water to people who desperately need it. Instead of presents, I’m asking people to donate to my 46×46 Birthday Challenge.

My goal: to raise $2,116, or 46 x $46 — enough to bring clean water to an entire community of 110 people.

You can help me do it!

EVERYONE who donates $5 or more will receive a $20 coupon to use in my store, anytime over the coming year. Plus there are all sorts of other gifts too: books, less-than half-price coachsulting sessions, custom-made videos…

Click here to change lives (and get a birthday present from me!)

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

May 30, 2011

Fear, Resistance, Stuckness and the Irresistible Draw of the Non-Urgent | Weekly Review #60

Here’s how it works:

1) You flail around for a time, not knowing what you’re doing, wondering if you’ll ever figure it out.

2) The haze lifts, it all miraculously starts to become clear, and you begin to lock in on a direction.

3) Now that you have a clear direction, not only do ideas start to pop like dried out corn kernels in hot oil, but your desire to get down the path already blooms into a breathless sense of urgency. (Insomnia optional, but frequently included.)

—

Let me interrupt for a moment here to state that it works this way no matter what you’re creating: a new piece of art, a blog post, a new song, a direction for your business, a Halloween party…

Sometimes the intervals between 1, 2 and 3 above are excruciatingly long, sometimes they’re so short you barely notice them. But they’re always there.

And here’s what almost always comes next:

The Irresistible Draw of the Non-Urgent

Need to get a client project done?

Suddenly the kitty fluffs that have been multiplying on the rug for weeks must be vacuumed now.

Blog post overdue?

Suddenly your toenails, which have been neglected for months, require a pedicure right this minute.

Have a website to overhaul and a big, new thing to create?

Suddenly the rosemary bush out back, the one that’s been threatening to devour the entire rest of the yard for the past ~~6 9~~ 12 months must be clipped immediately!

(That last one? Um, yeah, that was me today.)

But wait, there’s more.

Life is complicated, and those urgent, important, cannot-wait-to-get-them-done projects have a way of layering themselves.

Take the big ones on my plate this week, both Action Studio-inspired:

Now that I have a clear message and direction for my business, I’m rarin’ to go on the new (briefly aforementioned) thingy I’m brewing up to get you off your good intentions and actually doing your creative thing.
And at the same time, now that I have a clear message and direction for my business, I was finally rarin’ to overhaul my website (also briefly aforementioned) to better reflect who I am and what I do.

If you’ve been here before, you may notice that I’ve made a tad bit of progress on the second bullet item above. As in a complete overhaul. (And yes, I’d love to hear what you think!)

Which effectively sucked all of my time and energy away from the first bullet item above.

And yet, I can’t really file this under the Irresistible Draw of the Non-Urgent, because getting my website clearer was actually a more urgent need than getting the new thingy done. Choosing to spend time on Urgent Project A over Urgent Project B is simply part of what I call Life and Business Triage.

Perhaps now that the website is, if not done (a website being always a work in progress), at least in a state of acceptable for now, perhaps now I can return my attention – finally – to the new thingy.

But let’s first return to our ordered list.

—

Where were we? Oh, yes:

4) The Irresistible Draw of the Non-Urgent tugs at the hem of your clothes. (You may get a lot of cleaning or purging or other things you normally avoid done during this time, which is a lovely silver lining.)

5) You finally get to work, and hit:

The Wall of It-Will-Never-Be-Good-Enough

And here’s where you get to work on your stuff, as they say.

Hello Perfectionism, my old friend.

Thankfully, I’m getting better at sitting Perfectionism down with a cup of coffee and leaving it there while I get to work.

Affirmations help. In a guest-star matinee appearance for Action Studio last Wednesday, Kelly Kingman reminded us that perfect is the enemy of done. And as an ex-boyfriend of mine liked to say, better is better.

So…

6) Armed with these weapons against Perfectionism, you let go of perfect, get back to work (interspersed with repeated visits to #4 above) and let yourself get to done.

And maybe (in the case, say, of a website)…

7) You keep tweaking to make it better.

Rinse, lather, repeat.

—

Fear and Resistance and Stuckness, Oh My!

Perfectionism and the Irresistible Draw of the Non-Urgent are just a couple of the many demons that get in the way. The new thingy I’m brewing up is like chain mail to help you past them – it maybe won’t kill them, but it will give you the confidence to get out of your cave and walk past them.

Or maybe a better metaphor (at least for we fair-weather Californians) is an umbrella or rain slicker. You actually doing your creative thing is like taking a walk in the rain. Without the proper gear, it’s just not gonna happen (at least in my world). But with warm clothes, a waterproof layer and a sturdy, wind-proof umbrella, a walk in the rain can be great fun!

You doing your creative thing, once you get going, is way more than great fun. It’s breathing. It’s love.

But you’ve gotta actually do it to get that.

I want this thingy I’m brewing up to help. (Hell, I’m going to use it to help me! That’s where all the daily art I make and the blog posts I write spring from – my desire to inspire myself!) So if you haven’t already let me know in a comment or email what gets in your way, and where you could use a boost, let me know!

Consider the thingy custom-tailored to your special requirements.

And in the meantime, comments on the new site are welcome too!

November 12, 2010

Fear

Normally in a post about fear I think I’d be writing about creative fears:

Fear of failure.

Fear of success.

Fear that makes you resist what you know you want more than anything.

Today, however, I’m dealing with a more visceral kind of fear:

Fear of dying.

That’s at its most extreme, granted. It’s also fear of pain. Fear of maiming.

Fear of something really bad happening.

I think this is a pretty “normal” kind of fear to have when one is about to go into surgery. Most people don’t like the idea of sharp instruments cutting them open, and other sharp instruments sewing things to bones and stuff, which is what is about to happen to my right knee in 2 hours and 20 minutes.

Can I just say, “Ack!”

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!

Okay, I feel a little better now.

I’ve been wanting to share all the cool stuff that’s been going on with the Thriving Artists Project, but the inevitable enforced downtime that this knee surgery is going to, well, enforce on me, meant a lot of scrambling to tie up a lot of loose ends to allow myself some rest.

Rest? What’s that?

Apparently I need something like a dislocated knee to get me to rest for more than a few minutes at time.

So, I sit here with my tensed-up back and neck, waiting out the last few moments before I get picked up to go to the hospital, anxious and scared.

And at the same time, I have to admit, kinda looking forward to my little “break.”

For which, by the way, I’ve packed an entire grocery bag full of library books on happiness (research for my Guide to Happiness e-course); plus my ukulele; a knitting bag with a 15-year-old partially-finished sweater; several journals to write in; and a borrowed laptop.

Someone apparently doesn’t know the meaning of the word “rest.”

I have, however, also packed a few DVDs, and will have minions at my beck and call to fetch me more, should I desire to just be entertained.

It could happen.

So, dear readers, enjoy your weekend. I’ll do my best to enjoy mine (thank GOD for pain meds!)

And next week I promise to share the latest exciting news about the Thriving Artists Project, which is charging ahead at full speed!