Even professional creativity instigators struggle with resistance sometimes. It’s always starting that’s the hardest part, because starting friction is intense!
How to get past starting friction? It may not be what you might think! Here’s how I deal with it. [Read more…]
Today I want to take a little trip in the way-back machine, back to the year I turned 23.
I was teaching at a nursery school in the Berkeley hills that year. I had recently graduated from college, and was flailing about, really unsure what I wanted to do with my life. [Read more…]
Yesterday was the first official day of Finishing Blitz. Bolstered by the massive success of the Great ClutterBust, I created Finishing Blitz on the suspicion that I’d be blown away be what I accomplished by the end of the week program.
What I did not expect was to be blown away on the first day.
I’m still wrapping my head around it.
The day before yesterday was my “trial run” day, from which I learned a lot and resolved to make some adjustments to my morning routine in order to make the 9:00am check-in call without carrying my half-eaten bolted-down breakfast in tow. Sure enough, with said adjustments, I reported at my desk promptly at 9:00am yesterday for a short-but-lively first work session check-in call with several other enthusiastic Finishing Blitzers, and spent the rest of the two hour session working on my book.
(And yes, you can still join us if you want.)
It’s been over a year since I touched the manuscript, so “working on my book” translated mostly to simply getting reacquainted with it: reading through the first 15,000 words or so, making some light edits, revisiting the chapter outline, and basically assessing where I am in the project. I was pleased to find that, although I’m definitely in want of a good editor (referrals welcome!), and there’s still a lot of work in front of me, things perhaps aren’t as chaotic as I’d previously thought.
This buoyed my spirits, but the best part was simply noticing the shift in mindset that’s happened as a result of committing to these daily morning work sessions — a shift that is nothing short of miraculous.
As background, let me explain that my whole life I’ve been resistant to schedules.
Back in my obsessive-teen-dancer days, my time was quite rigidly structured around daily dance classes (usually twice-daily or more, in fact). This is a physical requirement if one wants to achieve and maintain the strength, flexibility, and sheer facility required to perform at a high level. A common saying in the dance world is, “Skip a day and you know it; skip two days and your teacher knows it; skip three days and everyone knows it.”
After an injury sidelined me from my planned dance career, however, being free from this kind of enforced schedule felt like a sort of miraculous gift — my consolation prize for not being able to dance. I’ve bristled at putting constraints on my schedule ever since.
Yesterday, though, I had a paradigm shift.
When I was planning Finishing Blitz, the idea of committing to 9:00-11:00am work sessions six days a week sent a thrill of panic down my spine.
What was I thinking?? Could I actually do this?? Was I going to deeply regret this crazy idea??
I thought about the job I had teaching nursery school after college, in which I was required to drive a half hour in traffic to clock in at 8:00am, Monday through Friday. I loved working with kids, I loved the school, and the other faculty and staff were wonderful, but oh, how I hated having to be there at 8:00! I learned my lesson that year, and in the two-plus decades following I’ve become quite intentional about structuring my life to avoid alarm clocks unless I have to catch a plane (and even then, only when absolutely necessary).
Yesterday, though, I found myself actually looking forward to my “enforced check-in”! In fact, I felt almost giddy! It reminded me of my dating years, and the anticipation I’d feel before going on a date.
*Bing!* That’s it!
“I have a date with my book!” I thought to myself.
In a flash, what had previously felt like a cage, suddenly felt like a gift.
My morning work sessions, far from being a horrible burden, are my date with my art! They are my date with my muse, my date with my dreams.
That chunk of time in the morning is not some kind of punishment (as those 8:00am clock-ins at the nursery school sometimes felt); it is my gift to myself.
Suddenly I understood Steven Pressfield’s concept of “turning pro” like I never had before.
I’d first encountered this concept in Pressfield’s best-selling book, The War of Art (highly recommended). What is “turning pro”? Here’s how Pressfield described it in this interview on LateralAction.com (and btw, I just discovered he has an entire book about the concept, titled [wait for it…], Turning Pro, which I ordered on Amazon just now):
Turning pro is a state of mind; it’s a mental shift from the weekend-warrior attitude of an amateur to the hard-core self-discipline of a professional.
My friend Cathy took up golf at thirty-three. She was absolutely terrible. But she loved the game. One day she said to me, “Steve, I have just turned pro. I mean my attitude toward the game. I may still suck, but every time I go out there, I’m going to dress like a pro, think like a pro, practice like a pro and play like a pro. I will not let myself get away with any excuses or give anything but all I’ve got. I’m a freakin’ pro, baby!”
Within a year, she was a five-handicapper.
“Yeah, yeah,” I always thought, “But I’m an artist. I must be free! I can’t be tied down!”
Then yesterday, after just two days of two-hour work sessions, I finally got it. I thought with regret about the years and years in which, devoid of a regular work session commitment, I let my time flow down the drain into activities that felt important in the moment, but left me with nothing to show for it.
I mourned for all the articles and books I could have written, but didn’t; the art I could have made, but didn’t; the songs I could have composed, but didn’t. So sad! So tragic!
Then I picked myself up, dusted myself off, and turned my gaze in front of me.
Instead of focusing on all that I didn’t accomplish in the past, I thought about what could be possible for me in the future.
With a consistent, sustainable practice, it doesn’t matter if I finish the draft of my book by the end of Finishing Blitz, because I know the book will. Get. Done.
Still, life has a way of throwing monkey wrenches into the works. Last night I was struck with a terrible case of insomnia, achieving no more than four hours of sleep altogether.
I’m exhausted. I seriously considered “calling in sick” to my new “job,” heading straight back to bed after the 9:00am check-in, and committing to putting in 2 hours later in the day after I’d (hopefully) gotten more sleep.
It almost happened, but I was so fired up to write this blog post that I chose to do that instead. Realistically, if I had gone back to bed, I probably would have had a hard time sleeping, thanks to the ideas buzzing around in my brain, and the heavy feeling of work-not-yet-done weighing on me.
And thankfully, Recent Past Me was smart enough to create Finishing Blitz, thereby building in an “enforced check-in” that other people are counting on me to host.
External accountability, baby! It ROCKS!
Without that 9:00am check-in call on the Official Schedule, I’m afraid bed would have won. Instead, I wrote over 1,600 words, and will probably sleep a whole lot better when I take my nap later (which I am hereby publicly committing to do!)
But that’s not all! It gets better!
Confession: I put a disclaimer on the Finishing Blitz sales page that the times for my work sessions are subject to change. I seriously thought I might want to push it back by an hour to make the sessions run from 10:00am-12:00pm, instead of 9:00am-11:00am, so I left open that possibility.
In fact, after just two days I have decided to change my work session times. To my utter astonishment and delight, however, I’ve decided not to make the sessions start later, but instead to make them run longer: starting tomorrow my sessions will be three hours, from 9:00am-12:00pm!
Amazing.
Last month I transformed my identity from Person With An Embarrassingly Messy Studio/Hopeless Slob, to Person With A Spacious, Relatively-Uncluttered Studio, On Its Way To Becoming A Beautiful Studio.
This week I transformed my identity from Person Who Can’t Quite Commit To A Regular Schedule And Struggles With Time-Management to Pro.
I hereby declare May 1, 2014 as the day I turned pro. I may still suck, but I am showing up to do the work like a pro. I will not let myself get away with any excuses or give anything but all I’ve got.
(And thank god for Finishing Blitz, to help keep me true to my commitment for the next month and a half!)
PS – Yes, you can still join Finishing Blitz if you like. And yes, it’s truly Name Your Own Price.
PPS – Do not fear offending me if your funds are limited. I’m still kicking myself for the Name Your Own Price opportunities I didn’t take when my funds were tight, out of fear of offending the offerer… only to discover later that plenty of people paid less than the number I was so afraid would offend. If you want to join us, join us — I’ll welcome you with open arms and authentic thanks.
(Think about it: any payment you offer is more than I would have earned if you didn’t register at all!)
Click here to join the most loving, supportive, enthusiastic bunch ever, and finally get stuff DONE and/or start that creative practice you’ve been longing for.
PPPS — Pssst! Know someone who might benefit from seeing this today? Pass it on!
It’s time for another classic from the archives! Having just returned from a week at Jazz Camp West, it seemed appropriate to pull this one out, originally published on September 25, 2011, and inspired by a teacher at Jazz Camp West a couple of years ago. Enjoy! xoMelissa
You know that little voice that whispers in your ear, “You suck!” Yeah, that one.
The Suck Duck sits on your shoulder, waiting for the right moment to quack at you:
“Ew. That’s not good enough! Who do you think you’re kidding? You suck!“
“You’re not qualified to do that! You suck!“
“Man, oh, man, what in the hell were you thinking trying something new? Just stick with what you know, you dummy! You suck!“
“Oh, no – not perfect. Into the trash can that goes! You suck!“
The voice of perfectionism. The Suck Duck is one manifestation of that bain of all creatives: resistance.
Or as Steven Pressfield calls it, in his gem of a book, The War of Art, Resistance.
I love how Pressfield personifies Resistance, as an entity with will and malignant intent. Somehow the metaphor makes it easier to wrap one’s head around. Easier to identify the enemy and take arms against it.
And when the metaphor is a duck,** well, it just brings it down to size, doesn’t it?
A duck, say a rubber duck, could be drop-kicked out the window, for example.***
Or locked up in a cupboard.
Or even, I don’t know, made friends with and transformed into a friendly duck, perhaps.****
It’s all up to you and your personal style.
Whatever, the whole point is, when that voice starts quacking at you, recognize it for what it is: the Suck Duck. NOT benign reality.
Then dispatch it.
The Suck Duck is hard to kill (and hey, I’m not one for violence anyway‡), but here’s what you can do: Take the Suck Duck off your shoulder, and put it in another room.
Or drop-kick the Suck Duck out the window.
Or buy the Suck Duck an imaginary plane ticket to Timbuktu and send him off.
I assure you, the Suck Duck will probably find its way back, and more quickly than you’d like. So just send it off again.
The point is, make a habit of noticing when the Suck Duck is talking to you (hint: it often sounds a lot like you, and/or a lot like The Truth).
And make a habit of taking the Suck Duck off your shoulder and drop-kicking it out the window (or whatever).
That’s one of the things I do when I teach or lead Playshops, classes or retreats: I remind people – over and over if necessary – to banish the Suck Duck. Because really, not much creative amazingness can happen when the Suck Duck is in the room.
That is why, although I’m extremely uncomfortable with the entire notion of hunting (you know, like with rifles and stuff), I believe all artists and creatives should go hunting for the Suck Duck, preferably on a very regular basis.
Let me know how your Suck Duck hunting goes. How many times did you spot the Suck Duck today, this week, this month? And what did you do to dispatch it?
*Kid Beyond, one of my favorite teachers at Jazz Camp West, was the first person I heard refer to the Suck Duck. I am blatantly stealing his metaphor to share with you here, but I totally got it from him. Just so you know. Visit his website, go watch him perform, love him up. He’s awesome.
**For any Fluent Self/Havi Brooks fans out there, huge apologies to Selma. The Suck Duck is an entirely different species of duck, no relation to Selma. Not a real duck (of either the feathery or rubber variety) at all. Just so you know.
***Obviously you wouldn’t do this with a real duck. I’m very partial to ducks, and would never want to do anything to intentionally or unintentionally encourage cruelty to ducks, or any other animals.*******
****Okay, I threw that one in there for any soft-hearted readers who can’t stomach the idea of dispatching a duck, even of the evil, fantastical and metaphoric variety. Me, I’m all for dispatching. But of course ONLY the evil, fantastical and metaphoric variety. (See *** above.)
***** My favorite charity, fyi, to which I send money every month, is Animals Asia, which works to stop cruelty to moon bears (and also dogs and cats) in China and Vietnam. They ROCK! Check them out!
******With the possible exception of mosquitoes. And fleas. And cockroaches. Though in truth I wouldn’t want to encourage cruelty towards them (I really do believe that cruelty is just plain wrong, even to annoying insects) but I have been known to kill my fair share (sorry PETA).
‡See ***** above.
PS – If you liked this post, please tweet, share, like and/or send it to a friend you think might like it too.
Never forget: This very moment, we can change our lives. There never was a moment, and never will be, when we are without the power to alter our destiny. This second, we can turn the tables on Resistance.
This second, we can sit down and do our work.~ Steven Pressfield, The War of Art
Steven Pressfield’s The War of Art has been on my “must read” list for longer than I can remember. I’m not sure what took me so long to just buy the damn book and read it (Resistance, anyone?), but if, like me, you’ve been on the fence with this one, don’t wait. Just jump. Quick.
Far from the heavy tome I feared it would be, The War of Art is a little gem of a book. It’s short enough to be consumed in one long or a few not-so-long sittings, and divided into tiny, bite-sized “chapters” of no more than a couple of pages, and often as short as a couple of sentences.
In other words, totally non-intimidating.
It’s the kind of book you’ll want to keep within arm’s reach in your creative workspace, to flip open to a random page when you need a little boost. A little reminder of how freaking important your creative work is, and that you’re not alone, or crazy, for having maybe the teensiest bit of a hard time getting to said work.
That last phrase? Totally sarcastic.
The truth is, if you’re like 99.999% of us, you frequently have an excruciatingly painful feels-like-you’re-pushing-a-three-ton-boulder-up-a-hill hard time getting to said work.
Or getting said work to a state of done-ness.
And The War of Art? This deceptively brief, easy to approach little 165-page gift is a powerful tool to add to your arsenal (to borrow Pressfield’s war metaphor) against the stealthiest, sliest and most pernicious enemy to your creative life: Resistance.
Resistance, in its many shapes, is the focus of Book One, the first of three sections of The War of Art. Pressfield lifts the veil, exposing the ways Resistance keeps us from the work we’re meant to do, including some you may never have thought about.
Fear? Procrastination? It’s pretty easy to spot those manifestations of Resistance. But how about support and healing? How about the choice of a mate? These – and many other surprises – can be sneaky forms of Resistance too.
And have you ever thought about Resistance and love? Has it ever occurred to you that the more Resistance you feel, the more important your “unmanifested art / project / enterprise” is to you? Which means, of course, that when you feel the most Resistance, that’s precisely when you must fight the hardest against it.
You must play for keeps.
Which brings me to Book Two.
In Book Two, Pressfield offers his thinking and instructions on how best to combat Resistance: by “Turning Pro.”
“Pro” in this sense doesn’t have anything to do with producing income (though it certainly can include that). It means taking yourself and your dreams seriously.
It means accepting that it is hard and painful to keep at it… and doing it anyway.
“The artist must be like [a] Marine,” says Pressfield:
He has to know how to be miserable. He has to take pride in being more miserable than any other soldier or swabbie or jet jockey. Because this is war, baby. And war is hell.
Turning Pro means showing up, no matter what, just like you do to collect your paycheck at your 9-5.
It means a lot of other stuff, too, which Book Two beautifully enumerates.
Pressman has made Turning Pro into an art in and of itself. He shares stories from his own life, when Resistance had him broken and beaten down, and in glimmering vignettes describes how a shift in consciousness – from “amateur” to “pro” – was what finally turned things around.
A guy who goes from broken, can’t-get-his-work-done-to-save-his-life, to international best-selling author is someone worth paying attention to.
If the militaristic message of Book Two sounds daunting, deep breath – we’re now on to Book Three, where Pressman looks at Inspiration, the Muses, the Authentic Self, and the allies and angels that keep us pressing on against Resistance.
When we sit down each day and do our work, power concentrates around us. The Muse takes note of our dedication. She approves. We have earned favor in her sight. When we sit down and work, we become like a magnetized rod that attracts iron filings. Ideas come. Insights accrete.
Whether you believe in angels or read Book Three as pure metaphor, I can’t see how any reader could not be moved by it.
Do your work, is the essence of Pressman’s message, because you must. The last page sums it up eloquently:
If you were meant to cure cancer or write a symphony or crack cold fusion and you don’t do it, you not only hurt yourself, even destroy yourself. You hurt your children. You hurt me. You hurt the planet….
Creative work is not a selfish act or a bid for attention on the part of the actor. It’s a gift to the world and every being in it. Don’t cheat us of your contribution. Give us what you’ve got.
Amen.
If you’re ready to take your own creative life more seriously, and would like to use the power of a small group of like-minded, creative comrades-in-arms to push yourself forward, I’ve got one spot left in my upcoming daytime Creative Ignition Circle, which starts this Wednesday. What could YOU accomplish toward your big, creative dreams in the next two months, if you had other people to brainstorm, encourage, and (perhaps most importantly) hold your feet to the fire? I invite and challenge you to take that next step to bust past Resistance and find out. Click here for more information and to join.
