This week I enrolled in a couple of fall writing courses through the UC Davis Extension program that are being taught by two amazing instructors.  My hope is that I will be able to fine-tune the writing skills that I’ve mainly used only as a hobby.

I am curiously nervous about this new venture.  School was never scary before and I’ve done well in other classes as an adult, but this feels strangely intimidating for some reason.

Maybe it’s because I sincerely want to do well or maybe more than that, I really want the instructors to like my work.

It’s interesting that our deepest-rooted fears seem to emerge when we least expect them to and this situation is no exception to that rule.  “It’s just a class!” I keep telling myself, but I cannot seem to permanently shoo the hum of anxiety that’s been buzzing around my subconscious.

In attempting to pinpoint exactly what it is that I’m afraid of, I realize that these classes are frightening because they matter to me… in a way that others have not.  It’s not a pass or fail; it’s something bigger than that.  Why is it that the stuff in our lives that we really, really want is the same stuff that causes us to stop short, left to wonder whether or not it’s a good idea to chase what matters?

I know you know what I’m talking about.  What if we were all challenged to use only the talents that matter most when choosing our work – be it singing, painting, cooking, or writing – wouldn’t the world be a much better place?

But we don’t.  And that’s a harsh reality.  We don’t because we think it’s easier not to think about it.  It’s easier to not put ourselves on the line.  We don’t because we fear that someone else might say, who are you to be doing that for a living?  When really what we should be saying is, who are you not to be?

I personally have written since I can remember.  My life in black and white resides within the cabinet drawers full of old journal entries, poems, letters and stories.  I joke that someday my great-grandkids are going to have a field day trying to weave my life story together by gathering these scraps of old binder paper and the backs of napkins.  And in that context, it is good that I write to my heart’s content because it’s therapeutic for me.

This blog is very much the same form of a creative outlet.  And though timid in the beginning about letting people see what’s on my heart, I’ve come to learn that if I write something that doesn’t read well or doesn’t sit well with someone, I’ll be forgiven.  You can take away whatever you like; use it, scrap it, or tell me I’m ridiculous.  It’s all just opinion and rhetoric and at the end of the day it doesn’t really matter because my career potential doesn’t hang in the balance if you don’t like it (though of course, I hope that you do).

These classes however, are forcing me out of a different part of my comfort zone.  One that I’m not entirely sure I’m ready to move from; which is precisely why it must be the absolute right time to do so.

These instructors make a living with their writing and combined they have decades of knowledge and experience.  And though their teaching and feedback is something that I yearn for, the flip side is that their feedback also has the ability to potentially set the tone for the next step in my writing career.  They know what publishers want to buy and what sells in the magazines.  And what if I write from my heart and soul and they tell me it’s crap?  What if they tell me no one will ever buy what I’ve written?  They have an all-access pass to be candidly opinionated and to constructively criticize away, without so much as a pause… and the irony is that I’m paying good money for this.

And, if this piece of the big picture (writing for money) is missing, I might be forced to go back to the drawing board of my life and eliminate one major part of the “media mogul” game plan I’ve set for my future.

I do admit that there could be a teensy bit of dramatic flair built up in my mind around this whole situation, but there are definite undertones of truth that dwell within the sensational.

Fact is fact.  I’m human and I’m scared.  And that’s really the point I’m trying to make.  BUT… I intend to go forward anyway and the outcome will be what the outcome will be.

My life coach said to me just yesterday that the only way to get everything you want is to give everything you have.  And if I begin this new adventure with that one thing in mind, I simply cannot fail.  Right?

In the end, I will always have my blog and the loyal readers who don’t really care if I use too many commas, or if I start my sentences with “and”, or if I separate my thoughts with a dot, dot, dot… because that’s how they naturally flow in my mind.  And for that, I am thankful.

And of course, that leads me to ask, what’s something that you’ve been contemplating?  And when are you going to sign up?

Some weeks for me are peppered with events and tasks that seem to have no meaning and no real effect on my life, while others are loaded with messages that are far too obvious to ignore.

This week was chock-full of the latter.

I made a conscious decision early on this week to focus my attention less on being productive and more on listening to the world around me.  This was done for a number of reasons, most of which stem from not feeling well and suffering from insomnia.  Sickness is a sure sign that my body needs rest and is frequently brought about when my mind is overloaded and could use a vacation also.

I gave myself permission at the onset of the week to just be.  To feel what I wanted to feel (be it self-loathing, tired, sick, sad, good, fine, confused, frustrated, and occasionally even… happy) and to lighten my mental load with the constant reminder that the week was not intended to be productive.  No matter what.

The challenge in this exercise has been to allow space and time to continue moving around me while gathering up the significant pieces of wisdom as they land in my lap.

And after neatly folding away my ego and locking the critical voices in the closet, I can say that this assignment was far more productive than any completed task list would have been.

When we tune in to our ability to listen, we gain far more knowledge than any book, show, or high-priced education could ever give us.  And with that knowledge comes a certain sense of inexplicable peace.

Given that I tend to err on the side of over-achievement, it is especially satisfying for me to notice how much I actually learn when I let go of how things ought to be and instead allow simply existing to be an okay state of mind.  In fact, I’m certain that my ambitions would sooner be realized if I could only retrain my mind to consider this as fact.

I have been reminded this week of many things, all of which have value; however, the following is my newly compiled list of rules I should remember to live by:

1.  Don’t be afraid to lean on people when you need them most.  This week I’ve had the good fortune of sharing conversation with a true walking miracle; have dined, laughed, and sought advice from some of the funniest, most intelligent women writers I know; I’ve discussed business, been given the gift of learning from a coaching client, and had a phone call with my mom who knows the value in listening as I sob about my trivial frustrations in life.  I caught up with a long-distance friend about funny nightmare summer vacations and the joys (and trials) of parenting; and I’ve learned from my husband who is talented, intelligent, sensible and amazing beyond measure.  I’ve also been touched by countless others who affected me with their hellos, their smiles, and their kindness, without even knowing they did.  I say all of this to show that every single one of these people had an impact on me.  Every one of them said something or did something that added sunshine and insight to my life that wasn’t there before and it took me being quiet to appreciate just how lucky I am.

2.  Do the work.  This is a tough one for me because I’m an idea girl.  My mind continually swims with new… better… what if… and so on.  but this message has resounded in almost every conversation I’ve had this week.  Don’t think, just do.  Make a disciplined effort.  Write five minutes a day.  Make one phone call.  Put one foot in front of the other.  It’s okay to glance at the big picture every now and again if necessary, but stop thinking about it and just get to work.  There is no step two without a step one.  Do step one.

3.  Fully explore every opportunity.  Even if it leads you down a dead end road.  Even if you have to turn around and come back to step one, you’re still better off.  You’ll never know the answer unless you check things out.  Don’t be left wondering what might have been.  Don’t worry if people think you’re crazy for going in a hundred different directions.  Eventually, one of those opportunities is going to stick and when it does, you’ll be thankful for your time and effort.

4.  The choice is ALWAYS yours.  Let me repeat.  The choice is ALWAYS yours.  Being forced or bullied, or guilted into something sucks.  But it sucks even worse when you wake up and realize that you allowed yourself to be forced, bullied or guilted into doing what it was you didn’t want to do.  The same goes for stuff you do want to do… really.  What’s stopping you?  Did the excuse wagon pull up in front of your house and dump its load?  No?  Then make a choice.

5.  The choice, though yours, is not always easy.  Enough said.

6.  Patience is a virtue.  One of my all time least favorites.  I actually heard a great summation of this one… you can’t plant your wheat one day and harvest it the next.  This will take practice for me.  I want everything and I want it now.  But there is something magical about learning how to live without expectation of when things should happen.  Because if you’re too busy living than the very things that you want, seem to just happen when you least expect them to – and I don’t know about you, but I LOVE IT when that happens.

7.  Know your strengths.  And play to them.  Why do we insist on making life way more difficult than it needs to be?  We’re in jobs we don’t like, enduring relationships we know aren’t right for us, and saying yes to attend events we’re not even sure sound like fun.  Square peg?  Round hole?  Stop trying to play mind tricks on yourself and just go with what you know you’re good at and what will make you happy.  As women especially, I think we’re pre-wired to want to please, which makes this lesson even more appropriate.

8.  Don’t force what isn’t happening.  Just be.  And more importantly, be okay with that.

9.  The world will in fact keep spinning (and no, it does not revolve around you).  Whether you want to believe it or not, once we truly embrace the mentality that “this too shall pass”, we open ourselves up to the idea that moments were meant to be enjoyed and there is more to life than how many items are on our to-do lists, how much money is in our checking account, and that our lives won’t end because our favorite television show didn’t record correctly on the DVR.  It’s true.

10.  Be gentle with yourself.  We only get one shot at this life… and making sure that we give ourselves enough love and support and kudos and breathing room is essential to making the most of the life we’ve got.  The bonus with this one is that the more we love ourselves, the more love we have to give away.  It doesn’t get any better than that.

On that note… I’m off to enjoy my relaxing night in, with my favorite pajamas, my friends on the Food Network, and a glass of delightful red wine. 

Until next week…

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Fear has been my topic of choice lately; presumably because I am navigating my own intensely fear-driven phase right now.

And the truth is that though I appear to be a risk-loving, leap-of-faith-taking maven, I’m really just a big chicken cloaked in a cape of blind ambition.

No… really.

When I was young it took me years to get up the courage to ride a roller coaster that went upside down.  I spent the better part of my childhood standing in line, watching the train of roller coaster cars whoosh past me in the landing house.  Finally, when it was my turn to board… I’d step all the way through the seats and walk back out to the entrance, silently watching as my friends waved down to me on their way up the first climb.

I had the same issue with the high dive at the community pool.  I spent an entire summer timidly tip-toeing out to the edge of that springboard and peering into the chlorinated waves below until I actually got up the nerve one day to jump.

God forbid anyone ever push me.  I was okay with being afraid.  I was only prepared to do things that I was ready to do and not until I was ready to do them.

Surely, I could sit here and tell you how I’ve since figured out a way to beat that timid girl into submission and how I now charge courageously into my future with no hesitation.

But that would be a lie.

I have overcome obstacles in my path, yes, and I’ve done things that have surprised even me, but I still continue to battle the surges of fear that rush through me when I least expect it.

That said, I decided to sort through my fear-related issues and have written about them here in hopes of clearing a path to my next leap.  Maybe you can relate.

I’ve learned that when I am most afraid of my own situation, I tend to talk about other peoples’ fears incessantly.  (Mom, are you reading this?)  And then I try to force them into leaping first… kind of a subconscious “you go, then I’ll go” tactic.  But you cannot make someone else leap; no matter how hard you try, even if you know they want to.  Secretly trying to make them leap seems to temporarily disconnect your focus from your own fears to theirs.  But every single one of us has to overcome our own high dive on our own terms.  Period.

I’ve also learned that no matter how many times I go through this process, it’s still scary.  You know how they say the bigger the risk, the bigger the reward?  Yeah, well for me the bigger the risk, the more I feel like hiding under a rock so as not to come face to face with my fear.

I do know myself well enough to know the exact moment that it’s time to leap.  But first, there is always that moment before that exact moment when I hesitate.  I can sense when something really big is at work in my life and there just might be more to it than what I can actually see with my own eyes… and I know I should go for it, but I still hesitate… waiting for some sort of definitive bolt to shoot down from the clouds and tell me exactly what the “right” answer is.  I stand there in pause, as if I might actually figure out at some point what I “should” do.

But then I remember that there are no “right” answers, only answers that are right for me.  And I shouldn’t do anything… except be true to my own soul.

And even though I know this, I still tend to lean on being “confused” as my go-to emotion as though that excuse alone can prevent any sort of failure.  Too bad I’ve been taught that there is no such thing as confusion.  Confusion is simply a label for not wanting to make a decision; for fear that it might just be the wrong decision. 

I saw a quote today that summed this up perfectly.  “Faith is believing in advance what only makes sense in reverse.” (Charles Swindoll)  This is where instinct takes over and you have to just go with your gut.  All the wisdom in the world can’t tell you what your heart already knows and when you finally decide… you just go… and you don’t look back, because you can’t.  And it’s terrifying to see that all the arrows are pointing down one obvious road, but you still feel sick because what if that road is the wrong road?

Trust me, stuck in contemplation is no picnic.  Leap… or get left behind.  There is no in-between.

Thankfully, we are born equipped with this instinct and if we learn how to follow it, it rarely steers us wrong.  After all, how does any good business person get to the top of their game?  Instinct.  We’ve all experienced this in some form or another where we can’t even explain the decisions we’ve made except to say that we just “knew”.

So for me right now, I already know that I know the answer.  I’ve been working on this solo career path long enough to know that what I’ve been asking for has squarely presented itself to me.  And even though I know it’s the right choice, and it’s good for me and good for my future, and it’s exactly in line with what I wanted… I’m still afraid.

Where am I leaping, you ask?

I’m still working out the details.  But my first order of business is to just say YES and then get moving.

In the meantime, what do you know about fear that might be worth sharing?  Is there a roller coaster in your own life that might finally be worth stepping onto?

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I planned on writing all about the definition of confusion today… but I think I’ll save that post for a later date since my focus is elsewhere this afternoon.

Instead I’m going to spotlight the topic of faith.  Specifically, trusting that we can have all we want; without exception.

I’ve heard quite a bit of chatter lately about being intentional.  About creating a vision board and other concepts like it, a la THE SECRET.  And I don’t disagree with that notion; however I find it peculiar that nobody ever really addresses what is supposed to happen during the isolating time that appears after you’ve clearly stated your intention.  You know, the part where you’re patiently (or in my case, not so patiently) waiting for the result of said intention.

I understand logic as well as anyone and know that ideas and intentions take time to formulate and I also know that, even in this microwave society, it takes more than merely blinking to see things come to fruition.  I mean really, if everyone had the power to will a million dollar check into their mailbox without really having to work for it, then we’d all be rich and I for one, would not be writing this blog… I’d be in Fiji.

I’ve been taught the process of intention like this:  get clear about what you want; ask specifically for what you want; and then take action to move toward what you want… In that order.  At that point, things are ideally supposed to come to you in a myriad of ways, none of which you could have predicted.  It’s actually a really cool process to witness; when you’re in the right frame of mind.

Apparently, today is not one of those right-frame-of-mind kind of days for me.

I mentioned in my post Minding the Gap, that my husband and I are in the midst of selling our downtown condo in hopes of happily taking up residence in suburbia.  We’re both ready and anxious to make this happen for a number of reasons.  We’re in need of a bit more space (where we can invite more than two people at a time for dinner), a little bit more privacy (so our living room wall is not shared with someone else’s), and a lot more yard (100 square foot patio, anyone?).  However, we’re learning that making the decision to sell and move is one thing.  Being patient in the process is an entirely different story.  Oh, and did I mention that the real estate market is not exactly booming at the moment?

In our anticipation of moving and of finding a home that we can live in forever (oh, okay… so at least the next five years), nearly every weekend for the last four to five months has been consumed with house hunting.  We have endlessly searched for our dream house with all the dreamy features we could ever possibly hope for; setting our intention of course, on finding something better than amazing.

And we found the perfect house.

This house has EVERYTHING on our list.  Including some things that were too good to be true.  We knew for certain upon the first walk-through that this would be “our” house and we’ve pretty much been calling it that ever since.  We talk about it, we think about it, we verbally arrange furniture, and even drive by it every time we’re in the neighborhood (or within 5 miles of the neighborhood… which, come to think about it… is it possible to be arrested for stalking a residential dwelling?) 

In the meantime, we keep telling each other that being patient will surely pay off.  The timing is going to line up and the rest will be history… something to tell our children about.  Why, yes… we’ll sell our house; negotiate a great price on our new house and TAH-DAH!  Moving Day!  Tears!  Hugs!  Pictures of my husband giddily carrying me across the threshold!  Pop the champagne everyone and call the caterer because it’s time for a house warming party!  I think you get the idea.

Then today… out of nowhere… our plan was thwarted.  Someone else is buying our dream house.  We didn’t anticipate this part of the intentional process… the part where someone else swoops in before our house is sold and makes an offer before we can.

Now, if I were to put on my real estate hat for just a second and pretend that I was talking with a client of mine, I would ever so calmly remind them that if this house was meant to be, it will be.  And I would also assure them that everything happens for a reason because I know for a fact that it does.  And I would tell them that if this isn’t the house then the one they will end up buying will be much better by comparison.

But I’m not talking to my client, I’m talking to myself.  And I’m having a difficult time swallowing this one; which is why it’s even more critical for me right now to remember what it means to keep the faith.

Ironically, I was actually thinking about faith just yesterday.  Faith, by definition, is having confidence or trust in something you cannot see; a belief that is not based on proof.  My thoughts yesterday related more to my career than to my house (because I honestly felt a sense of peace about the whole house situation), but in retrospect the same theory applies.

It’s interesting to me when things like this happen because on one hand I have the ability to step outside of the situation and see things from a logical perspective.  I know without a doubt that things will work out exactly the way they’re supposed to.  However, it’s not always easy to see past the initial cloud of disappointment.  And instead of simply trusting that this too is a part of the master plan, I quickly sink into a doubt-filled abyss whereby I believe for a split second that the sky might actually fall.  I know… I know… it’s a bit dramatic.

Conversely, I am able to look backwards in my life and plainly see the areas in which my faith has served me well.  It seems that every time I let go of an ideal I get something even greater in return.  However, it is the letting go… the leaping… that is habitually my reason for pause.  Will it work this time?  I wonder.  Will I plummet without the safety net and regret having leapt in the first place?

Never once have I failed with faith as my parachute and yet I continue to question its validity.  Why?  Classic human nature?  Or an attraction to insanity?

See… it is in the leaping that we find out what we’re truly made of.  God doesn’t give us choices and push us out to the ledge only to let us tumble to our demise.  Rather, he asks us to trust that he’s got the big stuff already handled and that he heard our request.  And all we have to do is just let go.

That’s hard.

And so it goes… my heart says I know the answer.  My head insists on first having a debate until I finally exhaust my ability to over-analyze and finally just let go.

Wouldn’t it be easier to simply trust from the get-go?  And if I did… would the lapse in time between setting my intention and getting what I want be rapid by comparison?  Probably.  But even as complicated as I make it, I still know that this back-and-forth process by which I finally conclude that faith is my only option, is the very same process that makes the end result so sweet.

And so I leap… remembering that it’s not up to me to decide how I get to where I want to go… and as soon as I remember that, I cannot wait for the surprise of where I land.