2013 started with the best of intentions. My goal is to record 300 songs before the year ends, and I'm well over 10% of the way there.
And yet...
It feels like this hugely daunting task right now. Like I'll never make it.
I know I'm in the thick of it. I know the year's only just begun. I also thought I'd be farther along by this time.
I mean heck, it's almost the end of the first quarter. By my math, that's 75 songs that need to be in the can by the end of the month.
I'm about half way there.
I was reading Josh Pais' blog. He was recently in a car accident, and (more…)
Over the last few months, I've been digging into what I really enjoy: music (over 30 songs are in the can now!), performing (check my upcoming gigs here), and learning about people. Specifically, I've been swimming through books like these about finding and living your true purpose. Ultimately, it all comes down to two things: connecting to your soul, and leading with your strengths.
Coming from someone that espouses the notion that you can follow your passion, build a Noble Empire and live an inspired life, that sounds kind of blasphemous, right? Well, let me explain...
See, you can't be whatever you want to be. You MUST be exactly who you are called to be. Sometimes, when our passion is aligned with our divine gifts, then we CAN be whatever we want to be, because what we want to be is exactly who we are called to be. But you can't just pick something because you see someone else doing it - or even because you might be proficient at it.
Is that confusing? Let me try again, with a little help from "Kung Fu Panda":
When "life happens" we buy into the illusion of control that Master Shifu so ardently defends and Master Oogway tenderly releases. I've maintained for a very long time that we are all born with what I call "undeniable gifts" - our personal arsenal of strengths that are meant to move us through this world with confidence toward success. When our gifts aren't suited to the demands that life throws in our face at any given moment, we dig in, start learning and "adapting" ourselves away from our strengths (instead of reaching out to get help from someone else who IS skilled at the issue we face).
We see our limitations as a deficiency on our part - something we've got to fix - instead of celebrating our innate, interdependent design.
What happens for many of us, though, is that, instead of returning to what we've been blessed to be good at once the storm is over, our strengths get buried, neglected, or overlooked in favor of those more "useful" skills. Your True Voice gets silenced.
It's then that our masterpiece gets covered over, stored away for a future day.
Many times, we never return, never dust off that masterpiece, and never display it with pride - because we're spending way too much time trying to fix what's broken, improve what's not working, instead of celebrating the glorious way God made us to be in this world.
Tom Rath said it best: "You cannot be anything you want to be - but you can be a lot more of who you already are."
Home Depot was faced with a big decision: keep growing at the expense of current stores, or reign in growth and tighten up what they're already doing to create more loyal customers. They knew when to call it quits and focus on what they do best. In an era when everyone is focused on "bigger" and "grow", Home Depot said "Hey, let's refine what's already working!" and they've seen great success in that.
What about you?
Are you focusing on what you do well, or bemoaning the fact that you're doing all kinds of stuff just to survive? Are you even in the arena of your undeniable gifts anymore, or have you locked that masterpiece up somewhere in the dusty attic of your ancient past?
It took me almost a decade to return to music with any meaningful effort. It's something I'm damn good at, but as a mom and wife, well it's not such a useful skill. Changing diapers, cleaning house, and keeping peace took priority over piano practice, learning new music, and touring.
"Life happened" all over me - and with it, the "shoulds". I let my own gifts go unnoticed because I was trying to be a better mom, wife and housekeeper. There just wasn't time left in my day to sing the songs God had already planted in my heart.
But somewhere inside my head, I had drummed up the notion that I was a bad person if I didn't learn how to do all that other stuff. An while it's true, we all need to learn some skills outside our comfort zone, it's important to remember that we've been blessed with gifts that will nurture us when we share them with the world.
I'm changing that now. I'm returning to my regular rehearsal schedules, dusting off old tunes, and for the first time in a long time, I'm even writing new ones. And the world responds accordingly. New contacts arise and new opportunities are offered in alignment with my dharma. I'm speaking more, getting on stage more, and in general, loving more of what life is offering. In short, I'm being more of who I already am, and less of what I'm not.
It's not always easy, but I wouldn't trade it for the world.
When I'm working with my clients, often times they'll speak about something that "always happens" to them. Something that seems to come out of the blue, and yet, when we drill down, we discover that it's usually rooted in a lack of awareness about the cause of that "something".
In The PEACE System, I illustrate how many "emergencies" are a result of neglecting a must-do activity for too long. Like when failing to perform the routine preventative maintenance on your car often leads to a flat tire or another car "emergency". Or when neglecting to take care of your health leads to a stay in the hospital.
My clients are smart cookies. They've got a lot goin' on upstairs... they've also usually got a few too many things going on in other areas of their life and/or biz. Thus, the lack of awareness around work and life balance issues.
So today, I'm giving you, dear reader, a piece of advice that isn't really mine to give. I've seen it in various forms from different voices both online and off. This is just the version I share with my clients.
As a small child, I knew I was called to be a performer. I remember being 2 or 3 years old (before we moved into the house I grew up in) and "performing" for my family. I'd stand up on my wooden toy box, pretending it was a stage, dancing and singing for whoever would give me the time of day. I remember the day I was too big to stand on that "stage" - my foot went right through the lid and broke the toy box.
I grew up in a community where the biggest dream most folks had was to get a good paying job in "the shop". GM practically owned Flint when I was growing up, and the parents of most of the kids I ran with were either in the shop, or served the shop workers as teachers, lawyers, or doctors. Our town was a shop economy. (more…)
In this final segment of my interview with Sarah Robinson, we're talking about the Fierce Loyalty Accelerators, specifically, exclusivity and love. Sarah talks about how the accelerators aren't meant to be a stand-alone device to employ, but work in tandem with the Fierce Loyalty model to help you grow an intensely committed community of like-minded people (your tribe, your Noble Empire). Sarah also speaks candidly about why she chose self-publishing over the traditional route, as well as the results of working with a hand-picked street team to launch her book.
January's over, and I'm about 5% of the way toward my BHAG of recording 300 songs in 2013. That's 21 songs toward my ultimate goal of 300. Only 279 to go!
Anyone else would say "Holy crap! you've recorded that many songs!?! That's Awesome!"
Me? I have to remind myself to not be all "meh" about it.
Because I want to be at 300 - like, yesterday.
This is where it gets hard, and why so many people fall off the "new year resolutions" band wagon by the end of January. The novelty of the project has worn off. There's only so many times you can share what you're doing with people. And since I'm in earliest stages of the project, it's not like I have a huge catalog of music to point to so that I can say "Hey! Look how awesome I am!"
All that comes later - as we near completion of the project. After the hard work of DOING the work is complete (or at least much farther along). It's one of the downsides of living in an instant gratification economy.
I chose to record 300 songs because it's a point of deliberate practice for me. There are so many songs in the world, and this will broaden my musical horizons both as a composer and as a performer. Frankly, it's been way too long since I've spent focused time working on my music (8+ years, to be more precise), and it's a necessary effort for my development as an artist. Sites like fiddlersguide.com would definitely incredibly beneficial for my musical growth.
It can be lonely, grueling, thankless, grunt work as you go along. No one celebrates your do-overs.
I'm pretty sure Thomas Edison wasn't saying "Hoo-ah! That's attempt number 907 for an incandescent bulb that didn't work! Guys, this is freaking AWESOME!"
No, I'm pretty sure it was more like this:
"Attempt 907 didn't work. Let's get on with number 908."
And on life went in Menlo Park. No celebration, no fist-bumping, no toasting the talents of the insanely brilliant team working to make electric light possible.
Just doing the work. Until that 1,000th attempt (or thereabouts) when light was finally stable and constant.
No, I'm pretty sure before the sustained light brought raucous celebration, there were grumbles about quitting, wives that wondered what their husbands were doing all day in that lab (and if they were ever coming home for dinner), and a lot of head scratching as they were working through their problem.
Just the daily grind of trying to create awesome.
We don't often celebrate the process of creating awesome, just the awesome itself, once it's been created.
And it can be pretty lonely when your awesome creation takes time.
I try to remind myself that I have all year, and that I'm actually right on track to achieve my goal. I celebrate my "small wins", and then I come out of my studio and back into "the world".
It's here that I'm struck with the overwhelming loneliness that comes with doing great work.
I'm not complaining (much), really. It's more of an observation that I've seen a lot of creatives go through. We put our heads down, impassioned by the task of our great work, and then time flies. We're "left behind" in other areas because we're so intensely focused on what matters most in the moment.
Watching friends chatting on facebook about some song or another that I haven't heard yet because my head's been down, working on this project.
I was blessed to have my friend Jen Harris join me in the studio to record "Edelweiss". It was such a breath of fresh air in Michigan's wonky January weather to have another pair of ears in the room listening, singing, and suggesting our way through the song.
It was a creative revival for me that lasted just long enough to get a lot of joy, and hardly any frustration. My studio's a nice place for folks to visit, but I don't want them living there, if you know what I mean. Jen came in to rehearse on Friday, and we finished up on Saturday. Smooth like buttahh!
Then, something fascinating happened. Not only was I reinvigorated, but there was a positive "disturbance in the force" so to speak. People were talking about the work we did together, and that got other people excited about coming into the studio later this year.
Gone was the old ho-hum of recording songs. Suddenly, there was a freshness to the work I'd already done, as well as the work I was setting out to do. No longer was I feeling "meh" about anything. I'm wondering if Jen kind of planned it that way. She's a pretty smart cookie, I gotta say, so I wouldn't put it past her.
When we put our heads down and get focused, it can be easy to lose sight of everything around us. It's easier still to get mired in the daily grind of the creative process. The countless rehearsals, the re-touching, the practice sessions ad infinitum, ad nauseum, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera...
We forget how important deliberate practice is, and how we need to bring ourselves to it fully.
Even when no one else is watching, when no one else is celebrating, when no one else seems to care an iota.
Because when all the practice is done, and it's time to perform, they ARE watching, and talking, and loving what you've done.
You've just got to put the work in first.
This is the first part of an hour-long interview with Author and Martha Beck-trained life coach, Sarah Robinson (here's part two). Her book, "Fierce Loyalty: Unlocking the DNA of Wildly Successful Communities" is available in paperback or Kindle format on amazon. You can read my thoughts on her book in this previous post.
In this episode, Sarah and I discuss the evolution of her business, from professionally trained actress to mom, to life coach, to business strategist and author. We talk about what Jonathan Fields calls "The Thrash": the seemingly constant evolution-branding-and-re-branding cycle that happens as we draw nearer and nearer to our Essential Why and sharing our True Voice with the world.
[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kiXWlbbOygk&hl=en_US&version=3&rel=0]
It's all well and good to strive for excellence, but excellence is about more than just putting in your 10,000 hours. Those hours need to be focused, deliberate practice. Without that, you'll be hard pressed to reach the full potential of your undeniable gifts.
Be warned: you can spend 10,000 hours of your life on anything, and just because you get good at something doesn't mean it's the thing you're supposed to be about in the world. I've spent thousands of hours doing things that I don't enjoy (and I got pretty damn good at them, too), because I thought I had to. I'm really good at a bunch of things I have no interest in, and that I know are not part of my great work on this planet.
If you're interested in digging deeper into finding your own great work, have a look at Stephen Cope's book "The Great Work Of Your Life: A Guide for the Journey to Your True Calling" on Amazon. If you've already got clarity on your calling, and you're ready to launch into creating a plan of deliberate practice, take a peek at the Get Your Year In Gear program. It just might help you create the space you need to do the things for which your future self will thank you.
[Editor's note: when we migrated to the new site, a lot of great posts got lost. Slowly, I'll be digging them out, updating them, and reviving them for your inspiration. So if this post feels strangely familiar, that's why.]
This past year, I've been not-so-covertly working with Karl Staib on his twitter parties. He's been helping best-selling authors like Danielle LaPorte and Jennifer Louden sell more books and reach new audiences through a blend of teleclass and tweet chat that he calls twitter parties. My role is to manage the conversation on twitter and award prizes to the participants at intervals throughout the party, while he handles the interview and conversation on the phone.
Basically, I get to play fairy Godmother, talk to people and give away free stuff. Tough job, huh?
A while back, he did a twitter party for Barbara Sher, author of "Wishcraft". On the call, she was talking about a client who wanted to sing. Barbara told her to sing. When the client expressed her concern about her weight being an impediment to her singing success, Barbara simply told her to "sing fat". She followed that revelation with this comment:
Indeed. (more…)
[Editor's note: This is part five in a series of year-end posts I write to focus my efforts for the new year. Here are links to parts 1, 2, 3 and 4.]
Brave.
That was the theme for 2012, and as I look back, I can say I'm pretty happy with where things ended up.
Even though they are far from the mark I set for myself.
And that's okay. In fact, it's actually a good thing. Because it took a LOT of bravery to adjust my sails as the winds picked up and the seas started churning in my life and business.
You may or may not know that I essentially dissolved my business in 2011. That means starting from very close to scratch in 2012. God bless my avid readers, because they are the ones that kept my ship afloat this year.