About Toni

Toni is a writer, photographer, and the wild mind behind Makearoo.com, a creative revolution designed to catapult you from dreaming to doing with your creative work.

from The Makearoo Dispatch: Calm

Dispatch Calm

It’s been a weird week–in a good way. Usually before a big event or trip (and Camp Makearoo–which is this weekend!–involves both for me), I’m a cranky and stressed-out mess.

This time? I’m . . . calm.

Usually I’m fretting over getting sick (an old anxiety pattern of mine that I’m slowly but steadily releasing) and taking on oh, about 40,002 extra tasks I really don’t need to be doing (like washing all of the bedding in the entire house so we can come home to clean sheets–a great idea, but not always something I have time for). I’m always crabby and stressed out, and usually crying is involved. And apologies for being so cranky. Normally, I’m over-preparing and over-providing — MOAR PRINTOUTS AND SHINY THINGS FOR MY RETREAT! I MUST REHEARSE THE PERFECT SPEECH, WITH HILARIOUS SLIDE SHOW SIGHT GAGS! BELLS AND WHISTLES! I MUST DAZZLE EVERYONE WITH MY BRILLIANCE OR THEY WON’T BE DAZZLED BY MY BRILLIANCE AND THEY’LL GO HOME FEELING RIPPED OFF AND WON’T LIKE ME AT ALL OR EVER WANT TO WORK WITH ME AND THEY’LL PROBABLY THINK I SMELL, TOO!

Nope. Not this time.

I’m listening to what my guests are saying (and showing) that they want and need and preparing to work within their framework. I’m outlining what I want to say and offer the people coming to Camp Makearoo. I’m taking extra care of my health since chronic allergies have created a recurring ear infection that I have to address. I’m slowing down, resting, drinking tea, breathing, and just trusting that it will all work out. That’s what the Post-It above my computer monitor says: “I can handle whatever comes.” Knowing that, the old need to worry and stress and manage and TAKE CONTROL and MAKE PEOPLE LIKE ME BY BEING PERFECT is falling away more readily than even I could have imagined. So now as the usual last-minute stuff starts happening — emergencies and last-minute cancellations and mix-ups; I’m calm and centered and accepting each occurrence as it comes and moving on. I’m also fortunate to have lots of help; my mom is on dinner duty all week, my mother-in-law is taking my kids to and from school, and my husband will be helping with behind-the-scenes stuff during Camp Makearoo. Tribe.

Where is this newfound calm coming from? I think that’s a whole other newsletter, but essentially I think the word “practice” fits best. I’ve been working on myself and my coaching practice for a while now and applying what I learn and what I teach, and this is allowing some old patterns to fall away. It seems easy because it’s all happening at once this time, but last month before my race and tweetup events in April, I was that same old hot mess but with a difference: I knew, deep down, that I didn’t need to be that way any more. It was more of a habit than the security blanket and protective armor that it once was.

As I researched yoga poses to help with sinus and ear pressure, I kept seeing the words “relax,” “relaxation” and “rest” and I’ve decided to take that approach to healing–taking medication, slowing down my workouts for a few days, doing restful yoga poses in the evening, trusting that my body will heal, and making a great night’s sleep a priority. For years I’ve tried to “power through” my allergies, to tough it out because I don’t like the way the medicines make me feel (even Claritin makes me sleepy!), but this year, I need to take meds in order to help my body heal; my usual all-or-nothing thinking isn’t helping me here. Or anywhere.

Twice this week, I met turtles — one was massive and probably older than me, which was humbling and awe-inspiring. The other was a feisty young ‘un who fled at my excited approach and he or she learned that, sadly, turtles can’t climb trees to escape enthusiastic humans. I like paying attention to patterns in my life– when a song keeps coming on or I see the same animal or color or phrase at odd moments. Of course, as a wise friend on the Makearoo Facebook page pointed out, Turtle is a sign to slow down. I’m listening, dudes! Though I’m still looking forward to making those slide show sight gags. Just not this week.

Have a fantastic week, my awesome friends. I look forward to seeing some of you this weekend! If you’re not signed up yet, there’s still time.

from The Makearoo Dispatch: Journey

Ready to run!

On April 20th, I participated in a race I’d been training for since February – a 10-mile run along Chicago’s lakefront.

I’m not a seasoned runner and I can’t even really tell you why I took on this challenge, except that once I heard about this race, I kept thinking about doing it. I just felt strongly pulled to try it. I had no idea if I could run at all, let alone some or even half of this distance, and I figured it was time I tried.

I listened to my desire and acted upon it.

I figured out a way to train that made sense for my level of fitness and pre-existing injuries (once-broken ankle/tib/fib + cranky knees). I found a training program for a half marathon and scaled it down to 10 miles. I downloaded a ‘Couch to 5K’ app to see how much I could run and I followed that program.

I followed my training schedule without questioning it; I just showed up and did it. No internal negotiation, no skipped workouts except for one sick day. No perfectionism, either; I just showed up over and over and over, and I really enjoyed it.

I hired a personal trainer for help with strength training.

I created a playlist that brought me joy and motivated me while training.

I went to my local running store and got new shoes a few weeks before the race because it was time.

I talked to friends who run for advice and encouragement.

On the morning of the race, I was nervous for all of the usual reasons. But when I saw there was snow on the grass and ice on the pavement, I literally started crying. I broke my leg badly by slipping on ice almost twelve years ago, so ice still scares me (though I still go walking and hiking in winter). I decided to run beside the trail on the grass until the sun came out. Quitting and going back to my hotel were not even on my menu of options.

The race itself was very different than I’d expected; it was tougher both physically and emotionally than I’d anticipated. I’d done a 10-mile distance during training and while it was hard, I felt confident the whole time. But during the race, I felt alone much of the time. I let doubt creep in, convinced that I was dead last and that somehow that mattered more than the achievement I was attempting. At times I felt like I was completely outclassed and had no business being there.

So of course, I talked to myself, both in my head and aloud (“Just get to Mile 8, Toni; that’s all you need to worry about right now.”)

Because I am slow (and totally okay with that, by the way), I had plenty of time to let my mind wander along the course, which was gorgeous and traveled along Chicago’s Lakefront and through green parkways along the lake. I realized that running a race is a lot like running a business, especially the early stages.

Eighteen or so months ago, I designed a business that made sense for my abilities (bringing people together, helping them see their inner light, and having fun while doing it all), desires (earn a great living working for myself), and current living situation (in a small town with three kids, a husband, and two other adult relatives).

I came up with a name, hired a designer to develop a website, and started spreading the word to family and friends about my new career.

I started showing up regularly, publishing my newsletter weekly, learning about marketing and coaching, and contacting people who might be interested in what I have to offer.

I hired a coach to help me develop Makearoo and now I’m working with a coach to help me be the best possible coach I can be.

I regularly absorb written and audio materials that motivate me.

I hire professionals like web and graphic designers to support the Makearoo mission.

I look to friends who are also growing kickass businesses for advice and encouragement.

During the course of developing Makearoo, I have had more than one moment of sheer terror where something that I’d pegged as a ‘dealbreaker’ appeared in my path. I haven’t let scary stuff stop me yet! I just do the equivalent of running on the grass at the start of my race; I figure out a way around the thing that is scaring me so I can keep going, because my overarching goals for Makearoo are bigger than any immediate fears that might come up along the way.

Many, many times I’ve felt both alone and outclassed as a coach and business owner. Comparing yourself to anyone else makes this easy to do. The solution is simple: Knock that shit off! I realized after a while that I was comparing myself to people who have been running their businesses for years. Of course their launches look differently and net different results; they’ve been at it for much longer, cultivating trust and creating relationships and planning for growth. I know, “Who do you think you are?” kept popping up when I first started Makearoo. It still rears its butt-ugly head from time to time now. It’s totally normal, and I see my clients, friends, and family struggle with this same deal when they stretch beyond their boundaries. Knowing that it’s normal and there are ways around those feelings is such a huge comfort. There was a line from an old episode of Doctor Who we watched recently (a David Tennant episode) where someone asked, derisively, “So, you think you’re clever, do ya?” and he responded, in all seriousness, “Yes, I do.” There’s a reason people are crazy for that show and that character; we all want to shine on like crazy diamonds just like The Doctor.

I made it to the finish line of my race, and just before that, my husband ran up to get some photos of me and my friend Nicole came and ran the last few yards with me. And then my sons ran up and crossed the finish line with me–a moment I will mark as one of the happiest of my entire life. A merry band of intrepid friends who woke early on a Saturday and braved the April-in-Chicago weather was there, too. The gratitude I feel for that support won’t fit into mere words. But I will say that in that race, my own perseverance carried me from start to finish, and so was knowing that my tribe was there for me–and in Makearoo, the same things hold true. My sons are watching me grow a business that suits my talents, temperament, goals, and our lives and precious time together. My husband and friends are watching and cheering me on, too. And I’m doing the same for all of them in their own endeavors — sometimes as a coach, sometimes as a friend who knows the value of that support. Either way, while we might feel alone in our journeys, we seldom truly are. There’s some stuff we have to go through alone; my kids couldn’t train for me, for instance. But the chances to celebrate, to share, to connect during each little victory? I wouldn’t trade those for the world.

You guys know I’m gonna connect this to Camp Makearoo now, right? Read below for info on attending a Day Camp on Saturday, May 11th. Dig in and find what you’re hungry to run from start to finish for and to start finding your tribe who will not only “get” the journey you’re on, but will cheer you along the way!

Of mountains and magic

“Once in a while, we are gifted small, unexplainable pauses in the hurt or chaos, maybe just long enough to remember where we’ve come from and what we’re fighting for.”

Tee Iseminger, writer + runner

I’ve been seeing a repeating theme in my life lately, which is always a signal to pay attention and often a great idea to write about it here.

My 10-year-old son and I had a conversation yesterday. I asked if he was excited about entering fifth grade next year, and he shook his head sadly. When I asked him why, he said it’s because the fifth graders he knows are all rowdy and don’t behave. “And . . . because fifth grade seems really hard.” There it is, I thought.

“Nolan, in your entire life, have you been able to handle whatever comes?”

“No.”

“Are you sure? I mean, you’re still here, right? You’ve faced challenges, you’ve learned lessons, you’ve discovered that you can be flexible and adapt.” Flexibility is hard for kids like my Nolan, who has sensory processing issues that fall on the mild end of the autism spectrum. I told him that there will always be another mountain to climb in our lives, but not to let that scare him or bum him out because the sunlight on the peaks is pretty great, and so is the shade in the trees and the natural beauty we see on the way. Even when it’s a hard climb.”

He’s ten and got sick of my English lit major-ing all over him, but I think he got the point.

I really think that many of us operate under the assumption that we’ll have our shit together “someday.” “When I lose 30 pounds.” “When I get that promotion.” “When I have time to get my marketing plan humming along.” “When I’m earning $60K.” “When I retire.” I don’t know about you, but I don’t have my shit together, and neither does anyone else I know. Am I healthy emotionally? Yes. Am I fulfilled by my work? Yep. Am I happy in general? Every day. But does that mean my life is perfect, I have no worries or stresses, and everything is easy? AhahahahahahaNOPE.

So as I was thinking about this stuff, the Mojo Lab newsletter landed in my inbox:

The biggest challenge we face is finding the magic while living in this modern, chaotic world. That’s not always an easy endeavor. The frantic pace, endless demands on our time, and the pressure to keep pushing when we’re exhausted often seem intent on sapping our joy and mojo. I find that the magic often is found in the bits in-between the stuff we can’t control and the responsibilities we accept. Sometimes, the magic comes when we invite it in, even in the midst of the craziness. It can be there in the pauses between the tasks or by simply embracing the tasks we’re undertaking.

I think that it’s easy to get caught up in our day-to-day worries and forget to seek the magic and joy in our everyday. And I also think that sometimes, we have to stretch and try new things in order to make new magic happen. My friend and Camp Makearoo alum Tim learned this last week when he had his first gallery showing of one of his photographs. He got into the competition on his first try (!!) and I think based on conversations with him, he got so much out of the experience that he never would have otherwise known or felt without taking action. It’s a pretty great system, isn’t it?

So this week, if you’re a person who gets stuck in your head all the time, wishing and planning and hoping and arranging stuff until it’s just so . . . I have two things for you to try:

1. Notice the magic in your life. (Joy, beauty, bliss, random acts of kindness–whatever you want to look for).

2. Take action toward something you want. Sign up for that class. Enter that contest. Visit that gallery. Ask the question you’ve been feeling to chickenshit to ask.

from The Makearoo Dispatch: Soul

Dispatch Soul

Last weekend was the very first Makearoo Goals with Soul workshop at my gym, HigherGround Fitness here in Woodstock, Illinois. What a fantastic group of people! HigherGround is such a positive, “can-do” environment, which made it the perfect venue for this gathering.

We talked about setting goals based on what we are totally crazy about–I’m talking truly, madly, and deeply in love with. Another clue that you’re onto an awesome goal for yourself is to pay attention to the stuff you’re probably already doing with ease and joy in your spare time but maybe aren’t giving yourself permission to pursue more deeply. After that, we got started creating vision boards that represented our soulful goals.

I love teaching and meeting new people, but even more, I loved watching everyone light up as they connected to what they want to see blossom in their lives. There was this moment about midway through where I noticed the whole room went quiet and realized it was because we were all in the zone, focused on creating our vision boards.

I think Pinterest is awesome and great fun, but there’s something about creating something with your hands that adds another level of “Oomph!” to our creative spirits. And it makes for a really fun afternoon!

That’s all for this week, as I leave tomorrow for the 10th Chicago(ish) Tweetup (we used to meet twice a year) and a 10-mile race along Chicago’s Lakefront this weekend. I’ll write about that experience and what led me there next week, after the post-race massage I wisely scheduled for Monday morning (also at HigherGround Fitness!).

from The Makearoo Dispatch: Makers

dispatch makers

Last weekend, I had a chat with a friend I’ll call Maggie. We were discussing coming to the Saturday ‘Day Camp’ portion of Camp Makearoo as a way to connect with more creative people.

“But I’m not a maker,” she said. “I just write.”

“Hey, I’m a writer, too. We’re both makers!”

Maggie also worried that her chosen genre and efforts weren’t up to snuff compared to “real” writers.

I think these are common hurdles for creative people to leap, especially in the beginning. I can say that doubt moves from chronic deal-killer to awkward companion that you learn to live with over time. You also discover that doubt is one part of the decision-making process as you evolve, try new things, or decide to ditch old pursuits.

I remember feeling that I wasn’t a “real” writer unless I was well-paid and famous. I was a new mom to a kid who starts high school this fall when I picked up a copy of Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott. Somewhere in those pages, Lamott simply said something to the effect of ‘Here’s how you know you’re a writer: You write.’ That statement cracked everything wide open for me. “Anne Lamott says I’m a real writer. Holy cow. This changes everything.”

And it did. I realized I’d been writing for most of my life and that I’d write for the rest of my days regardless of whether I earned a dime at it or became famous for it. I’m a born storyteller and I write as easily as penguins swim (well, they make it look easy, anyway). But I didn’t really own my talent or the title “writer” until I read those words in that book. Opening that door just a crack let all of that brilliant light in, and I went on to become a freelance writer who also fell in love with fiction and the sorts of storytelling I do now for Makearoo. All from one encouraging phrase. Because deep down, I knew it was true.

Now, I’m not Anne Lamott, but I have to wonder if maybe that conversation helped my friend Maggie start seeing her own writing in new ways. What if she decides to attend that Day Camp portion of Camp Makearoo and meet other writers who are just starting out — tentative, keeping their work close to their hearts, and wanting to believe and share and open up and surrender to it? Add to that the chance to mingle with experienced professional writers and other makers who can share tips and experiences and advice and you’ve got a heady combination!

What amazing fireworks might light up her sky from that first flicker of desire to show up, unsure of whether she belongs? I really hope she gets to find out — if not on a sunny weekend in early May, then at some point.

[Updated to add: She's attending! I can't wait to hear how her experience goes!]

Are you reading this and wondering whether you’re a “maker?” The answer is probably “Yes! Now get your butt up to Wisconsin and join us!” If you write, take photographs, create with your hands, paint, sculpt, play an instrument, sing, act, draw, illustrate, design, sew — you get the idea — you’re a maker. Even if you’re not sure, if you show up and meet your prospective tribe, what’s the worst that can happen? You decide it’s not for you, take this new information and focus your time and energy on other stuff.

Either way, you won’t know unless you go.

from The Makearoo Dispatch: Tribe

dispatch tribe

I’m back from spring break and feeling refreshed and even more centered in my work. Above are some photos from our trip to St. Louis, the highlight of which was a visit to City Museum, home of insane (not exaggerating) slides and ladders and giant stuff like underpants and pencils. Basically my kids’ definition of heaven. Yes, that’s me high-fiving a statue. Admit it: You want to road trip with me.

We also met Henry Winkler, aka The Fonz, aka Barry Zuckerkorn from Arrested Development (which returns with new eps on Netflix NEXT MONTH HOLY MOLY!). He was so gracious about posing for a photo for my brother, who has Down Syndrome and is probably the biggest fan of Arthur Fonzarelli around. I’m going to find a way to send him a photo of Stevie proudly holding his special photo of The Fonz. Based on meeting the man, I’m thinking he’d be really tickled to hear from my brother.

My family is my nearest and dearest tribe. They “get” me, to an often hilarious extent (“No more owl stuff, Mom! You have enough!”). They are, quite literally, my people. The Freddies are another tribe of mine — girlfriends who would go to the ends of the earth and back for each other; girlfriends who helped me mourn the passing of my dad and the passing of our friend’s daughter last summer. I also have a silly tribe that convenes each year in April for the Chicago(ish) Tweetup, a shindig that I founded. We began as a few nerds telling jokes in a pub and now about 150 people descend upon the Windy City to . . . tell jokes in a pub. With cupcakes! If you’re in the Chicago area and you’d like to attend, there’s more info here. You can always email me, too.

I often think about the best parts of my tribes. Almost always, the same common elements appear: Laughter, connection, and the feeling of being seen and heard–understood.

I started Fred and Chicago(ish) to enhance these feelings in my life. And of course, Makearoo. The plan from the start was to build a community of like-minded spirits who don’t just like creating things, but LOVE it and at times feel compelled produce beautiful or inspiring or evocative works and share them with the world. To gather, to laugh, to have fun, to inspire and appreciate each other fully.

This week I met with a Camp Makearoo alum for coffee, and he said that finding his tribe there was one of the most beneficial things about attending — and he carries that spirit of connectedness with him to this day, nearly a year later.

This sort of connection is one of those things that is easy enough to convey in writing or conversation, but really and truly has to be experienced in person. You don’t KNOW tribe until you’ve LIVED it. And while online tribes are awesome and can do great things, there is absolutely no substitute for being in the same room with a group of people that understands who you are and what you’re about. None.

Of course, Camp Makearoo is your tribe or you wouldn’t be reading this right now. Are you excited to join us? You know what to do. Get in touch and let’s make it happen together, as a tribe.

from The Makearoo Dispatch: Carefree

Dispatch Carefree

I often learn really huge lessons from people laying down a single profound sentence, phrase, or even word in my presence:

“What if you never lose weight? What then? Will you still be lovable?” (My answer was an immediate and heartfelt “Yes.”)

An offhand comment on a recent blog post about not sweating illness when deadlines loom immediately moved me from “Ugh; I think I’m getting sick, how will I get everything done?” to “No big deal; it’s just a couple of days.” (This is my new tickle-y throat mantra: “It’s just a couple of days, Toni. It’ll all work out.”)

I LOVE when that happens–a simple idea radiating like early spring sunshine after several grey sky days. That’s the great thing about sharing our stories; you never know what helpful thing you might say that will help someone else just as much or even more. And that’s exactly why I share stories each week in the Dispatch.

Last week I was talking with a fellow coach about how I tend to keep my focus on a single spoke in the wheel of my business — like a design overhaul or upcoming workshop. I’m hosting a workshop next month about setting goals based on joy and passion and we’re gonna hang out and make vision boards to support that mission. (Watch this space for details! If you’re local to Chicago or Milwaukee, let’s hang out!) I’m supposed to drop off a sample vision board at the venue and every time I’d think about the project, it all felt really . . . big, serious, formal. The playfulness with which I usually approach my work dissipated and suddenly a task I normally love started feeling really heavy, which in turn stalled my progress on the rest of the project. I know I’ve done this in other areas of my work and life in the past, so it was actually really cool to spot this pattern, because once I saw it, I knew I could change it.

“That’s perfectionism,” said my friend. “I’m betting you’re working on making it the BEST vision board ever–totally perfect and awesome, right?”
“It’s like you know me,” I said, laughing.
“Well cut that out. Forget about perfect and just get it done. That doesn’t mean you have to be sloppy; just be–I don’t know–carefree about it and keep moving so you can move on to other stuff.”

Just be carefree.

I know perfectionism is common among creatives (it’s like I know you, right?). I also know it’s basically layered and sometimes deeply ingrained fear: Fear of rejection because we’re not good enough, which blooms into a need to be perfect. So we try to control the situation by making everything bulletproof so nobody can say a freaking word about you or whatever you make; perfectionism is your armor and life is your battlefield. Sounds like a blast, huh?

Perfectionism is also a way of holding ourselves at the same level instead of growing, because growth is scary and difficult and and it requires new energy. Growth means sometimes starting out without complete information. It means risking hearing “No” over and over again. And then hearing “No” some more. And it means taking a chance that you’ll throw a party and nobody will show up. It often means setting boundaries and watching people lose their shit as a result. Growth means making more of an effort–putting on makeup and finding a cool outfit and standing among your fellow humans to give a talk and hoping they like you and laugh at your jokes and light up when you share your story.

Growth is really effing scary, guys.

So stalling by making my sample vision board perfect means I don’t have to feel and deal with all of that messy growth stuff. If I take weeks to launch my website, working tirelessly to get my copy exactly right, I don’t have to develop anything else that’s new and involves learning more stuff and hearing more “No’s” and taking more chances and making more mistakes.

Here’s another thing about growth and taking chances: It gets easier with practice, I promise. The scary side of growth gradually evolves into an invigorating aspect: “Hey, I feel uncomfortable because I’m trying something new; must mean I’m about to grow!” Growth is dancing in your office when you hear “Yes, I’d love to!” or “I really love your newsletters.” Growth is earning income from the crazy-awesome ideas in your brain. Growth is building a tribe and knowing your people “get” you, and vice versa. Growth is experiencing new things on a level you never could have imagined. Growth is watching others evolve along with you and celebrating that progress together.

That “perfect” armor we build around ourselves is made only for bracing for fear, my lovelies, when all we need is a thicker skin and the determination to keep going. It’s hard to dance in your office in a suit of armor. Believe me, I know.

Some journaling prompts for you:

  • Imagine yourself finishing one thing in your life that you’ve been worrying over because you want to get it just right. How do you feel when it’s done?
  • What’s the first task you can accomplish related to that one thing? Put it on your calendar and get it done at the appointed time.
  • What would it mean for you to be more carefree in your life? Does that word trigger any resistance in you?
  • If you could grow in ONE area of your life, what would you choose, and why?
  • How do you deal with criticism? What about rejection? How did you feel and react the last time you were criticized or faced rejection?
  • How do you feel when you accomplish a big project?

Email me to share your thoughts on perfectionism and growth.

Makearoo on The Fulfilling Life series

Kelly Dahl at Perched to Fly created a marvelous series called The Fulfilling Life and I’m this week’s guest!

Click below to watch our conversation about what it means to lead a fulfilling life and see what made both of us stop the whole deal because we were laughing so hard.

from The Makearoo Dispatch: Possibility.

Dispatch Possibility

I’m done mythbusting.

When I re-launched makearoo.com earlier this year, I had what I thought was a killer tagline for the home page:

Wanna bust the starving artist myth?

Ooh! Daring! Ballsy! Well, since I have ovaries: Demonstrating gonadal fortitude! (Not as fun to say as ‘ballsy.’) I was on a one-woman mission to crack open the depressingly popular myth that we must starve and suffer for our art.

I really did feel jazzed about that idea. But something funny happened since the re-launch; I started noticing more people buying into the starving artist myth. A dear friend told me about her son’s immense artistic talent, then added: “But he’ll never make a good living at THAT.” I grinned and reminded her about my mission at Makearoo. “Oh. Yeah. I guess I need to stop thinking that, don’t I?” I also kept hearing from prospective clients that they didn’t have money or time for coaching. Something-something-bad-economy-something, I-don’t-have-time-something-something, meh.

Last weekend, I listened to a class hosted by my first coach, Darla LeDoux called The Price of Possibility, and realized almost immediately that I was pursuing the right mission from the wrong angle. Darla talked about how we can’t change the world by fighting against what we see as broken or by trying to convince people that you’re right and they are wrong. Talk about exhausting!

She reiterated an idea I’ve known for decades: You can’t change the world. What you can change is yourself and your attitude about the world. Also key here is the idea that what we focus on grows.

If I focus on winning a battle, I’m going to wear myself out trying to prove everyone I encounter wrong. Every potential conversation will be a win-or-lose proposition, and I’ll feel frustrated every time I don’t feel like I’m changing enough minds. But if I focus on inviting people into a joyful space where they can learn not just to trust themselves and their creative work but also figure out the best ways to earn a great living at it, all of the energy around that changes.

Do you sense the difference?

This semantic and energetic shift means that optimistic people who also believe in possibility will want to be on board with the Makearoo mission of doing what lights us up. Like attracts like, after all.

I’ll leave the mythbusting and blowing stuff up to Adam and Jamie. It’s way more fun that way.

Let me know what you think about this seemingly small shift in language. As a word nerd, I DEFINITELY know how powerful a turn of phrase can be, and as a coach I understand the power of the energy behind those words, too.

I’d also love to hear if this post helped you shift anything in your own life or work. Have you been fighting a battle instead of embracing possibility? Email me to share your story and your thoughts.

More on automating tasks to create habits

cropped-boca2-11-wp-h

Chris wrote a response to Monday’s Do What Works blog entry about automating stuff in our lives, and I wanted to respond and elaborate  a bit.

First off, Chris just launched a new site called Finding My Way Back to Joy, and it’s as lovely as she is, inside and out. (The lovely image above is from her site.) Chris explores the path to a fulfilling and joyful life and shares her paper art, photography, and practical but loving advice. Get this one in your feed reader, people!

(If you’re looking for an alternative to Google Reader, which is shutting down this July–sob!–check out The Old Reader to recapture your RSS love.)

Here’s what Chris wrote:

Revelation time! As I was reading this I came upon the paragraph about automating things to avoid “internal arguments, and/or self-sabotage”, and I literally jumped out of my chair. I do that! All the friggin’ time! I always considered automating tasks as a way to not forget important things like paying bills. (We creatives often forget the practical, day-to-day things.) But I never considered automating as a way to forgo the insanely aggravating “should I, or shouldn’t I?” debate that goes on in my head.

 

Since I read this last night I have been thinking about all the things I do – or don’t do that I should – that I can start automating. This is going to be so cool.

My responses here are to you Chris, but also to everyone reading, so when I say “you,” know that it doesn’t just apply to one person, no matter how marvelous she may be.

First off, I highly recommend listening to the interview with author Charles Duhigg on The Good Life Project (one of my very favorite places on the Internet).

If you’re thinking “Oh, I don’t watch videos” or “I don’t have time” or “I need a quiet space to listen to this without interrupting anyone else,” you can get the mp3 of this interview just by signing up for email updates on the web site. Then you can listen to it during a 45-minute car ride or leisurely walk (or break it up into a couple of shorter trips–buh bye, excuses!).

Cal Newport of Study Hacks argues against automating anything without first understanding your motivation behind any undertaking:

“You can’t force your brain to generate motivation. It will do so only when it believes in both your goal and your plan for accomplishing the goal.

 

If you find that you’re still failing to get work done, even when you’re more flexible with your scheduling, the problem is not your productivity, it’s instead that your mind is not yet sold that you know how to succeed with your general goal . . .”

I think some front-end work has to happen on any significant goal before you can automate the hundreds or even thousands of smaller tasks that have to happen in order to get to completion. And I truly, madly, deeply believe that you have to be totally in love with any big things you want to achieve.

You can’t want it because you hate yourself and feel ashamed and need to change.

You can’t want it because “everybody else does.” Or because your parents or friends or spouse/partner want it for you.

You can’t want it because you think that at the end of the road, you’ll finally be happy.

It all has to be all for you and for the right, loving (of both the pursuit and yourself) reasons. I chose to sign up for two races this year because I love the energy of races, I’d tried one before, and I wanted to explore whether I could run any distance at all and also walk a longer distance in a certain time. I love being outdoors to train, bike riding, and walking for long periods. I’ve proven to myself in the past that I can train for a race by entering a sprint triathlon as part of a team. So I had a pretty healthy foundation of love of the activities themselves and confidence that this goal can be mine, along with a health detachment from outcome that means I won’t feel crushed if I don’t hit any of these goals. Finally, I’d set a goal at the beginning of this year to treat my body with loving kindness, and I know for a fact that my new ‘tude about my bod has made a huge difference in how and why I train. I know that seems backward, and I’ve got a whole other blog entry to write about this very idea coming soon.

It’s complicated, I know. Thanks for the opportunity to dig into this a little bit more, Chris. What I’d love to hear from you and anyone else reading is: After reading these ideas, what one thing do you love madly and think you’ve got a decent shot at achieving, and how will you begin to make the steps toward that goal into regular habits?