Begin with the end in mind

In this moment of in-between, I feel there is an opportunity. Some kind of calling. Its like I need to move into uncertainty and murkiness all over again. 

I have created a podcast. I have a breath mint business launching in 3 months. I have pushed myself to get them going, and now they have momentum. I will keep working on them, but they don't need as much from me.

I am wrestling with ideas about speaking, writing a book, consulting to small businesses, coaching, and even going back to full-time work.

I am reminded of Stephen Covey's 2nd of 7 habits: Begin with the end in mind.

What is the end I envisage? When I imagine myself in 10 years time, as a 48 year-old, what do I see?

I see a healthy man, working out of city building. He has a few businesses of his own, and he is actively involved in helping and investing to develop three businesses owned by people. He talks occasionally, writes regularly, and never seems rushed.

With this end in mind, the following make sense:

- a slow build with the podcast where I write a detailed blog post

- focusing on the breath mint business to find a way to earn a livelihood from it

- finding a way to consult to small businesses

- learning about public speaking and coaching

- continue to challenge myself in personal development

Something is still not ringing true as I type this. Something to ponder today.

All of me

I was at a book launch last night for Mykel Dixon's Do 50somthing.

Myke promised that it would be more than a book launch, and it was. I don't quite know how to describe it - it was part cocktail party, part open mic, and part a poking at our collective creative calling.

One of the things he said last night really rang true - it was that the world needs all of me. And that is true for everyone of us - the world needs each of us to bring all that we have, even those bits we kinda think are awkward and shameful. To show up as we are, expressing and revealing.

I was so challenged by his words that I found myself taking to the stage when he left the mic open for people to say what they wanted. With my heart pounding and with no plan of what I was going to talk about, I found myself in front of 100 people and a couple of spot lights. 

But somehow, being out of my head and connected to the emotion and feeling of what I wanted to share, the words eloquently came out, and a story flowed. I loved being up there. I loved the theatre of it. I loved revealing myself.

I am now challenged to follow-up on what I think I need to do. Myke's book is about doing something, making something every day for 50 days. He wrote his book in 50 days, and through it is encouraging all of us to create and put things out there for the world to revel in.

I think I need to speak. In public. Every day for the next 50 days. In my head this is showing up on street corners and soap boxes, expressing what ever it is inside me that needs to be expressed. I am petrified by this idea. I may just have to do it.

Who is serving who: blog v blogger

Last week I had some sick kids at home with me. Added to this were work stresses (mainly my difficulty in finding some), and I found myself in the position where my focus was getting through the bare essentials.

And I think this is okay. Writing this blog is a vehicle for me, not a chore. It is something I do to express myself, and I have been putting pressure on myself to produce something almost every day.

There will be seasons when I write daily, and seasons when I don't write for a week. That is the nature of this medium for me, and how it best serves me.

And this week I am really looking forward to writing about some current thoughts I am having.

Unique, one opportunity only, creation

A friend of mine is starting a new business where she helps physicians avoid burnout. A once burnt-out physician herself she is well equipped to help others.

As she started to work on her business she found a mentor with whom she shared her ideas in order to get guidance and direction. She found somebody whom she could trust.

You can imagine her surprise when a few months later she heard that this mentor was starting her own practise in assisting burnt-out physicians, seemingly using many of the ideas that my friend had shared with her.

My friend started to wonder if it was worth continuing. Was there room enough for both of them? Had this been a breach of trust? She reached out to her friends on Facebook.

I remember writing something back to her about how it didn't actually matter what her ex-mentor was doing, or even how many other people were assisting burnt-out physicians, whether that be many or few. The thing that matter was whether this was something that had come from within her, something she cared deeply about, felt 'lit-up' by, and compelled to bring into the world. Because nobody could copy or replicate or create the same thing that she could. Nobody else is the same as her, has lived the same experiences she has.

It was quite easy to write those words to my friend at the time, and perhaps part of me knew that one day I would need them for myself, at a time when I would find them harder to write. That moment is now for me.

I sometimes feel insecure in about my podcast, protective of my patch and feel a need to keep it safe. When I hear of other similar podcasts, my heart sinks. 

But what I wrote to my friend is also true for me. It doesn't matter how many other similar podcasts there are out there. The thing that matters is that this has come from deep enquiry of myself, that it is an authentic expression, and that I feel compelled to bring it into the world. It will be different to any other podcast, because nobody is the same person as me.

And if I don't bring this into the world, it will never exist.

When the long awaited thing arrives

When I am waiting for something, it seems so far away and out of reach. When it arrives it seems like it was inevitable.  

What is more surprising is that I don't feel very different. I am not changed by it. I am the same person. 

I understand then that my work is not to make things arrive. Rather it is to prepare myself so that when they do arrive I can be my best to make the most of it and its consequences.  

The first moment the hardest moment

I had coffee with a friend recently and we were talking about a camp we were both at, and the difficulty in walking up to a group of people we don't know.

He offered this little pearl that he tells himself whenever walking up to a new group: The first moment will be the hardest moment, and then every moment after that will be a little bit easier.

While this is probably not always true, it is true often enough to be useful. And the use of it is this: in those seconds where I internally debate whether to walk up to a group of people, where I experience a flinch that would have me walk they other way, I can remind myself of this truth that it will be difficult for a second, and then it will start to get easier.

Here is to meeting more new people.

Creation through expectation

'...all the data indicate athletes' expectations as important factors in physical performance, to be taken into account in training strategies.'  -- Placebo and nocebo responses, Fabrizio Benedetti

There is much talk about visualisation and manifestation and laws of attraction in some of the groups I hang out with. I see some of this in my own life - coincidences that seem too strange to be just that.

I read the article that the above quote comes from recently which talks about placebo, and how telling athletes they are going to perform well causes changes in the physiology, enabling them to tap into reserves in their energy and ability that are usually kept for crisis events. In essence if athletes have an expectation that they will do well, they will lift the cap on their physical limits, and perform better than they otherwise would.

I suspect that the same is true for other areas of our life. In relationships, work, wellbeing: if we have an expectation that we will do well, that good things will come our way, we will physically have more ability and more awareness of these things as we move through our days than we otherwise would.

'No Junk Mail' Junk Mail

I have an idea for some kind of marketing campaign. It is probably most appropriate for an organisation that is about reducing waste or living with less, but I have no idea who.

My idea is to deliver people some junk mail that has a 'no junk mail please' sticker in it. 

I think there are probably a bunch of people that do not want junk mail, and would put the sticker straight onto their letter box as soon as they received it.

This would have the impact of creating a dramatic decrease in paper consumption, as well as freeing people from the distraction of needless advertising. And of course it would help promote the cause of whatever organisation was behind it.

I am laying no claims to this idea. It has probably already been done somewhere. Who could pick this up for Melbourne?

A small jab of encouragement

The past 24 hours have been one of those periods where a few things fall into place, encouraging me that I am on the right path and that the small daily actions I have been taking will amount to something cool.

A lady gave me a massive dose of encouragement about my podcast. I had a job interview that seems to have landed me a short term position helping startups and the city collaborate. And I reconnected with some interesting people from my past.

It is just enough to remind me to keep on, to work patiently and persistently, diligently and ardently.

Let's pretend

Last night I made a decision. The decision was to live as if I felt amazing. As if I was feeling like I had all I wanted right now in this moment. To live the way I would live if all those things that have been playing on my mind did not matter.

I know the effects of this decision are currently very early on in their life, but I think there is something in it. I want to see if I can sustain it, and come back to it when I stop doing this.

And this is how I want to live:

• I want to get up at 5am each morning, meditate, read a book, move, shower, have breakfast, write a blog post, all before 7:30.
• I then want to work during the morning on creativity-intensive, solo activities, like editing podcasts, writing, planning
• At lunch I want to exercise
• After lunch I want to spend my time on more socially oriented work activities, or reading books.
• At night I want to eat with other people, and potentially socialise with friends or family
• I want to be in bed before 9pm so I can get 8 hours sleep and be up at 5am.

There are some things missing from my life. But really they amount to this: I am not getting a steady income. This is partly my choice because I have been on a gap year. But while I am waiting for this to happen, I don't want to idly wait. I will live the way I would want to be living if that income was actually appearing in my bank account.

Encouragement

The small words of encouragement I have received from others are like little drops of water on a parched tongue. On their own they cannot nourish, but in total they offer refreshment and more than enough to keep me going on the next bit of the journey. 

I am so grateful for everybody that has offered me a small piece of encouragement, particularly over the past 18 months. Reminding me that I am strong. That I can write. That I am brave. That I am courageous. That I can hold space.

I write these things here not to brag. I write them because I forget and I doubt and I need to remember.

I will in turn remember to offer encouragement to others who are in the arena.

Benefits of the hardest route

I do love a good sports analogy, and one that has stuck with me is based around rugby and something the coach of the Melbourne Storm said a few years ago.

In rugby most of the really big, strong and heavy people are in the front and middle of the field, with the faster and more nibble either behind them or on the edges. When attacking, it is often tempting for the team with the ball to go wide and try and break through where it would seem there is less resistance.

Melbourne Storm's approach was different. They would attack the pack in the middle of the field, where the opposition were apparently strongest and most difficult to break through. Their rationale was that if they could break down the opposition where they were strongest they would tear them to shreds and score prolifically. This proved to be a very successful tactic for the Storm over a number of seasons.

The reason why this has stuck with me is because I often think about it in terms of the work I am doing, or problems I am having with people, or other issues in my life.

When confronted with these kind of scenarios I often want to try to solve them by doing what seems to be the easiest thing, whether it be the most simple task, avoiding a conversation, or working on the periphery instead of the core.

I am all for finding the easiest and simplest ways to do things. But that is not what I am talking about here. I am talking about the situation where I know there is something difficult to be done, and I fool myself into thinking that I can get around it, or put it off until later.

What this analogy reminds me to do is to go and do the hard thing first: have the hard conversation; make the difficult phone call; do the intense thinking. Because in doing that thing I can break the whole game open, and actually make life easier for myself sooner.

Looking responsible

I used to go to church every Sunday, and while there was a lot of not so sound thinking coming from the pulpit, every now and then there was a pearl. 

One particular Sunday a travelling preacher made a comment that has stuck with me to this day. The comment was along the lines of, as we get older, every one of us is in a large way responsible for the way we look.

I was a teenager around the time that I heard this; a time when I was incredibly self-conscious about the way I looked. I had pimples and my body was changing. I did not like the way I looked, and at the time I did not want to think that I was responsible for this.

As I think about that comment now, I realise that at this point in my life it is true - the way I look, and how healthy I am, is in a big part because of the decisions I have made. I am responsible for the way I look.

There are so many ways the decisions we make impact on how we look: the job we choose; the food we eat; the way we move; the scars we have; the plastic surgeon we choose.

Something I realised recently is that even the lines on my face I am responsible for. I meditate regularly, and have become aware of different poses I hold on my face, usually in an unconscious way. I have a particularly big furrow between my eyes, however when I am relaxed and free of anxiety, this furrow disappears.

I don't think that we are responsible for every part of the way we look today. Obviously genes, tragedy, and the actions of other have an impact. But I find it useful and empowering to think that I have some responsibility, and therefore control, over the way I look from this point onwards.

The moment before

People usually fail when they are on the verge of success. So give as much care to the end as to the beginning. Then there will be no failure. 

 -- Tao Te Ching - Lao Tzu

I have learnt that those moments when I feel the most stress, the most desire to give up, the most confused, and the most dispondent, these are the feelings that always come just before a big breakthrough.  

The irony is that they are also the moments when it is easiest to stop and give up, to declare failure.  

Noticing the feelings; calling bullshit on my rationalisations that tells me I have gone backwards; allowing myself to thrash in any way I see fit; and being curious about what is emerging: These are my personal best tools in enabling me to cling on in those moments. 

And then, in a moment, something changes. I meet somebody. I understand something. Something clicks. And the thing I was so worried about moments before now seems mundane. And I have come to a deeper understanding of myself and my existence.  

When the band takes over

I am in Hobart at the moment and this morning was on my way to MONA by way of a yatch. I overheard a musician talks Ng to her friend about the first time a whole band had played songs she had previously only written and played by herself.

She said how exciting it was hearing what each band member brought to the song, the nuance they brought to expressing their take on the feeling of the music and lyrics. It became bigger and better than her solo act, and bigger and better than any of them by themselves. 

This has been my experience with a business idea I have had. For two years I played with it by myself, and then eventually started talking to others about it. I now have a business that will be launching in 6 months, it has 3 other founders, and the texture and richness of the business is way bigger and better than me, and way bigger and better than any of us could have made it by ourselves.  

I liked playing in a band. I have always enjoyed team sports. And now I get to experience that same vibe in a business I am helping to create. I am so grateful. 

Learnings from a gap year

A few random thoughts after taking a gap year as a 38 year old, for those who are not 21 and are thinking about giving it a go. 

The hardest moment will be the day you quit your job, and the day after that. It took me three goes to finally resign, and the next day I had a meltdown. 12 months later I think it is the most necessary thing I have done in my life to this point. 

Take all the time you need. It takes time to realise that the things you thought were absolutes are nothing more than choices. 

It will definitely take a long time to get something new started. It took me 6 months to allow myself to hear what I really wanted to do, and to then trust myself to give it a go. It took another 6 months to get them started. And I think it will take at least 6 more months to get them earning revenue. I don't think this means it is too long - I am grateful to be heading in a direction congruent with who I am. 

Talk, move, think. I spent time connecting in a new way with my old friends, and making new friends. I found out what I needed to get me into the physical condition I wanted. And I spent time writing, reading and pondering. 

Give random things a go, like menial jobs, morning rituals, going to meet ups, travelling to bizzarrre places. I did some contracting work, travelled to Costa Rica, and learnt improv comedy. Anything new and out of our comfort zones can stimulate amazing ideas. 

Have some kind of framework in place to help structure the year. For me this was a 7 month, low contact hours entrepreneurial course.  

You don't need as much income as you think. Of course it helps to have some money saved up to give your gap year flexibility and remove financial pressures. One of the good things I have learnt is that I need much less stuff than I thought I did, and I actually feel happier without them. 

Expectations short and long

People usually overestimate what they can do in the short-term, and underestimate what they can do in the long term -- Chris Judd

In terms of key lessons learnt, this was right up there with those I learnt last year: that daily, incremental action will have a much bigger impact than what I expect. Conversely, big one-off benefits will have much less of long-term impact than I will expect.

It is unlikely that I will change my life by the end of the week. But by the end of next year, I may have a business that is earning me a livelihood, a podcast that has an audience in the thousands, and be in the best physical, mental and emotional shape of my life.

Or I could have something else completely.

This time with with awareness

I am on the footy field. I am 15 years old and I play for Research, the perennial strugglers who never seem to win a game. 

It is the last quarter and we are are close as we have ever been to a top team - 24 points down. Something comes over me. I start firing-up my teammates. Calling them by name. Telling them that we can do this. To believe. To find that extra bit of effort that hides behind their fear.

The ball is launched into the air by the umpire, our ruckman taps it in my direction. I gather, arch my back as I evade the lunging hand of the opposition, sprint away and launch a massive kick into our forward line. I feel elated and expressive and that I am being who I am, totally unencumbered, living in the moment.

I am in a meeting room. I am 22 years old, and I work at PWC, the consulting firm who only employ the best of the best and who win at everything.

The project is not going well, but the client doesn't know it. I know there is something to be said. I know that it will not be popular. It will be better for the client, and in the end better for PWC. And certainly better for myself. I know we can work together to make it happen. But I don't talk. I sit and nod. I comply with my manager.

I return to my desk slowly. I have a strange sad feeling about me. I feel constrained, repressed and like I am living within myself. I look around at my team mates. They look drained. Unhealthy. Well-paid and unhappy.

I am in my home. I am 38. I sit at my desk to type of blog post about what is going on for me in this moment. It is not always pretty or coherent. It is not earning me the big bucks. I feel energised and awake and liberated.

It has taken me 16 years; I am now doing with consciousness what I was, as a 15 year old, doing spontaneously.

When tattslotto seems like the answer

I sometimes find myself dreaming about winning the lottery. I find it very hard to ignore what I could do with a $30M windfall. The thing that stops me buying a ticket is not actually the overwhelmingly poor odds. The thing that stops me is that I find myself asking the question, 'But what if I won?', and not liking the answer.

What would happen to my life? What would I miss out on learning? How would my sudden change of fortune change the way I am with people?

It seems like it would be a short cut to have all the finances I want right now. I would be able to launch my breath mint business. I would be able to design a build a family home. I would be able to push my podcast to be a revenue generating venture. But the fact is that right now I have all the finances I need to do the things I need to do. I have enough to send my kids to school, to buy food, to pay the rent, to start the businesses. A large influx of cash would not actually push forward my current ventures in a sustainable way.

What I think I am craving when I fantasise about winning the lottery is not having to go through the uncertain times I know are ahead: the times of wondering how it will turn out; the times of feeling uncomfortable; and the times of feeling like I am out on a limb all by myself.

And it is these feelings and living through them that are actually the marrow of life. They can't be purchased with any amount of money, and ironically money can actually rob us of the opportunity to have these experiences and learn these lessons. 

Right now I move forward knowing that I have everything I need. And when the temptation of a $30M jackpot is too much to resist, luckily the odds are stacked against me.

Doing the work in front of me

Sometimes my anxiety takes me to a place where I am thinking about the work I can't yet do.

Like right now I need to find some new guests for my podcast so I can continue to release an episode each week. I am starting to get worried that I am not going to have an interview to publish as I cannot seem to talk with the people I want to get on the show.

Then I sit down and think about it for a minute: I actually have people around me right now who would be great for the show, and are willing to be interviewed.

Therefore I will do the interview that is in front of me now, and not worry about the interview I cannot get for the future.