One Thing to Remember About Confrontations

First, a disclaimer: it takes two to reconcile. If you are caught in a vicious cycle with a master manipulator who isn’t sincere and hasn’t heard your voiced concerns, I understand your impetus to disconnect. I also consider you off the hook for the following advice.

If you call an honest person out on something, you must also call them UP.

Offer solutions. Offer humility. Offer honesty stirred up with compassion.

Offer companionship in the recovery.

Offer solid belief in their worth.

Build up. Don’t tear down.

Disruptions Are Good. Here’s Why

I’m on this journey to continuously improve as a writer, artist, and human being. I’ve decided the next step in this journey is an experiment… a Disruption Day.
This Monday, I am planning to do as many unplanned things as possible. Those things can be tiny or huge.

Examples:

-If I normally wake up and check Facebook on my phone, then I will get up and cook breakfast or walk the dog instead.

-If I normally turn on GMA while getting ready, instead, I’ll listen to a jazz record or a Robin Sharma webinar.
-If I normally skip breakfast, I’ll have oatmeal. If I always have eggs for breakfast, I’ll have an enchilada.
-Maybe I’ll do stretches on the last 5 minutes of lunch to limber up these hamstrings.
-If I normally get coffee and check my e-mail first thing when I get to work, maybe I’ll get coffee, turn on a lava lamp, turn off the overhead light, and listen to “Welcome to the Jungle” while I address the first 5 pieces of mail in my paper inbox.
-If I normally berate myself inwardly when I make a mistake, I’ll skip the inner tirade and tell myself, “Oops. Good one to remember for next time. You’re still smart. Enjoy your day.”
-If I normally do easy work first, maybe I’ll set aside 8 AM to 10 AM to chip away at the big project on which I keep procrastinating.
-Maybe I’ll get lunch from a food truck instead of a freezer, and buy the lunch of the person behind me.

Disruption Day isn’t about trying to reset all bad habits in a single day, but about interrupting the trance and finding the adventure in everyday life:

-To see exactly where my minutes are going. (Remember, minutes are the currency of greatness.)
-To serve one of my NY Resolutions: to keep my brain as healthy as possible. (To do that, I have to throw it curveballs.)
-To work my Rethinking and Adaptability muscles.
-To force my path in life to intersect with new people and new locations.
-To embrace the beauty of surprises again.
-To supercharge my problem-solving skills.
–To view each day like an explorer, and avoid getting the same exact results in life.

Who’s in? Hashtag your results on Facebook and Twitter with #disruptionMonday.

Teri

P.S. (Disclaimer: those of you who have autism or autistic children are excused. There will be other ways for you to accomplish the same goal.)Photo via Bigevil600 at http://www.sxc.hu/browse.phtml?f=view&id=85853.

Slaying A Monster in An Inconvenient Moment

(Why You Should Move Forward Even When You Aren’t Feeling It)

I once had a nightmare in which I needed to rescue a sick, dying man. I tracked him down to the basement of a distant house, but didn’t dare descend that dark staircase.

He was guarded by a terrible monster that looked like a mashup of bear, lion, werewolf, and devil, and no one could kill this thing. The main floor of the house was full of people praying that God would remove the monster, prayers that grew in intensity every time the horrific thing let out a wall-shaking roar. Being a woman of faith, I hit my knees and joined them.

We prayed all night. As the room glowed orange with the first beams of dawn, I heard the man’s scream again, followed by another earsplitting roar from the monster. That was it. The time for prayer had grown into the time for the next step.

I stood and left the still-praying crowd, flung open the basement door, and stood eyeball to waist with the monster, which was all muscles and teeth and glowing red eyes, and it snarled hellishly like the queen alien confronting Ellen Ripley.

Then I reached up and broke it’s neck with my bare hands. It was like snapping a twig. All roar. All fear. All sound and fury, signifying nothing.

I woke in real life as rescue workers in my dream ran past me down the basement steps and saved the dying man.

Fast forward to now.

This quote is on my mirror: “In this moment, are you spending your time in a way that serves your purpose?”

I started thinking about this because I set a three-month goal last fall to initiate my career as a speaker. I’d put together a focus group, deliver my first speeches, and start editing.

Then I blinked.

Five months were gone, and I was still locked into the wishing, wishing, wishing phase. I had worked on other things– worthy things, of course. I took a second job, then added several new freelance clients to my first job. Then there was the car accident, the website I helped launch that wound up in HuffPo, the trip three states north to hold my dying grandmother’s hand. There was a surprise case of pneumonia, then auditions and dates and appointments and important phone calls to family and friends.

I realize now that there will never be a good time for the genesis of my speaking career, but the time to stand up and strike is mostly certainly now.

Each step forward confirms my belief in the people I have been sent to serve, belief in the God who loves them, and belief in myself as someone who is declared worthy.

My friends, greatness isn’t found in the thought a warmer tomorrow or a sparkling, brand-new year. Greatness is found in the gray, damp-basement-smelling imperfection of this moment and in the brave souls who seize it.

Minutes — little sixty second snatches of time — are the currency of greatness.

I hope you don’t waste those minutes hating yourself, doubting when you should hope, cowering in fear when you should be brave.

I hope you redeem them for greatness.

Teri

Photo via MilosMilos at sxc.hu.

Why No One But God Notices Your Writing (Concerning Self-Promotion)

It’s time we had a heart to heart talk about self-promotion.

Some consider self-promotion shameful and annoying. Others consider it necessary.

I’m in the “Necessary” camp.

I make a living in a creative field (writer) where self-promotion isn’t an option, it’s just good business strategy.

What does zero self-promotion look like? It looks like hundreds of phone calls from bill collectors and nights of insomnia where I decide between paying rent and eating. It looks like regret and wasted talent.

Many of us — particularly those raised in church —  are taught that we only earn the right to sing the solo or speak to an audience if we do our time in anonymity sweeping the nursery floor. In some faith-based places, the road getting your art into the limelight is to deny you want anyone but God to see it. Walk right up to some pastors or employers and tell them what it is you do well, and it’s “Who do you think you are?”

Huh. The Bible I read describes knowing who you are as a very, very good thing. It compares three men who were given talents to take care of while the boss was away. One made a modest investment and got a modest return for his boss. The other took a huge risk and got a huge return for his boss. The third was afraid of what his boss would think of him, so he buried his talent in the ground to keep it safe and protected from others’ eyes. He got nothing for his boss. Zilch.

If you’ve read the story, things don’t go so well for that guy.

I don’t subscribe to this denying-I-have-talent tripe. It’s over-spiritualized lying. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: Humility is not the same thing as having an inferiority complex.

Humility is not low self esteem.

Hiding my work, my story — my light in this world — is dishonest, not humble. You must uncork and serve up your work to get it noticed by the audience who needs it, shunned by those who feel they don’t need it, critiqued by those who will help it grow like iron sharpens iron, purchased by possible consumers, and promoted or ignored by major decision-makers. To deny yourself this privilege is to create a breeding ground for jealousy against those who are publicly doing what you wish you could. They’re up there because they are your collaborators, not your superiors. Take your place beside them!

And cowing under in constant deference because you think that’s humility, fellow Christians? That doesn’t win over anyone, because you are not free. To the outside world, it looks like exactly what it is: fear holding you back.

Creative types and entrepreneurs live on commission. I’m an author, editor, screenwriter, and world changer. When I write a blog post or get a cover story or win an award for a screenplay, the world will hear about it. Why? Because the last time you craved a Coke, you didn’t walk to the back of Walmart and get a warm soda out of the stock room. You got the chilled Coke out of the cooler right by the cash register.

Artists, don’t hide your light under a bushel in the name of humility just because it aggravates those who cannot find the “hide post” button.

Create. Fulfill needs with your creations. Tell people about what you created. Sell and give your creation to those who need it. Help other people create. And remember… rent’s due on the 1st.

Indy

Inspired by Matthew 25:14-30 and my fellow world-changers in The Start Experiment.