I’ve been bombarded with a lot of information lately telling me that I need to be consistently brilliant upon demand, be a whiz at blogging and social media, create savvy info products, write witty books and promote them lavishly, have a radio show, leverage the news and entertainment medias, do webinars, network like a star, send out newsletters bi-weekly, run contests, volunteer my services,  over deliver everything on time, outdo my competition, increase my sales, upsell,  and all this all deftly done according to my really relatable branding and disseminated with the grace of a prima ballerina and flexibility of a gymnast while looking like I just stepped out of a salon after a makeover.

Oh GAWD I’m tired!

You know what’s really craaaaazy? There are people who really think all this can be done by one human. I’m here to tell you that those people are crazy f*ckers. No one I know or have heard of can do all that alone.

Further, when did it become fashionable/optimal/realistic to expect one person to get all that done consistently without a lick of help?

I find myself yearning for a slower, simpler pace. Not so many balls to juggle. And what that tells me is that I’ve been trying to spread myself too thin. To do too much all at once. When I get like that, NOTHING gets done. I get what I like to call “opportunity paralysis”.

It’s not that i don’t know what to do, or that there’s nothing TO do. It’s that there are so many varied and important things to do that I get caught like a deer in the headlights of my juggernaut of a task list. And just like that, BOOM!, I’m reduced to a state of slightly panicky indecision. Sound at all familiar?

When I change my usual scenery I can get ahead of the trap of this particular flavor of crazy. From that place of renewed clarity it’s possible to take stock and then realize that I’ve once again fallen into the seductive trap of trying too hard to do it all. Now. Personally.

Lemme tell ya, thar be dragons. Dragons of demand, specters of deadlines unmade and reputation ruined. Monsters constructed of the fear of disappointing others, of disappointing myself, of not measuring up to those paragons of productivity who somehow can do it all so why can’t I? These suckers can get HUGE!

The only antidotes I know that really work are not about getting more done, but about pace. About grace. They involve scaling back, taking less on, not trying so damned hard that I get overwhelmed and spun like cotton candy at a country fair.

The internal cross talk is impressive. The crazy goes a bit more bonkers as it gets less buy-in. For a while it’s not productive or fun at all, and kinda chaotic inside. Let go, breathe, blog. Let go, breathe, walk. Let go, breathe, make cookies. Let go, breathe, breathe, let go. I’m not this chatter. Over and over and over until I feel like I can make one small, decent choice. One tiny thing.

And well, you know what that choice was. Stop trying so damned hard, fercrissakes, Molly me lass. What, you thought I was talking to you?

And now that this particular variety of crazy is not in charge for the moment, I can make better choices again. Choices to winnow down the list, to delegate, to ask for help, to pay for help, but most of all to RELAX for a bit and stop trying so hard, fercrissakes.

Weird thing is that when I stop trying so hard I get more done and feel a lot better about myself.

“Do or do not. There is no try.”Yoda was right. Trying makes me crazy. CRAZY.

My To Do List: Stop trying altogether. Do less, accomplish more.

I think I”m on to something here.

I’ll keep you posted.

Athena is almost 3, very precociously social and ahead of the game verbally, acutely charming and engaging. She and I see each other from time to time at the Madhouse, the local internet cafe in our small town. She comes in with her mother, and loves to pet the Moose when I bring him along.

She is utterly confident. There is no false bravado in her, no edge or artifice. She is simply curious and friendly, uncomplicated and powerful, unafraid to engage the objects of her considerable attention. Athena is a force of Nature.

Her eyes always light up when she sees me, very much as though we’ve known each other for many years and she clearly delights in our reunion. I find this enchanting and do not doubt that she and I have known each other before.

Today my mighty, tiny goddess incarnate fixed me with dancing green eyes from under her strawberry blonde bangs and inquired,

“Are you happy today?”

She placidly waited for an answer.

This little Bodhisattva, this sprite, this fae child of grace, naturally cares about my happiness. Naturally. It is not some socially contrived artifice or self seeking cleverness. Athena cares.

I was momentarily dumbstruck. I am used to such questions from other human development folks, gurus, some of my more conscious friends, in workshop settings or seminars, and from folks trying to sell me something.

“I am very well indeed, and thank you so much for asking, my dear. ” I replied, unable to do anything but smile down at that divine little countenance. She is pleased to connect with me, it’s obvious.

A conversation of not much real import ensued for several minutes, in which she was alternately completely engrossed in our repartee and quick to share the distractions that captured her fancy.  I feel like I’ve known her forever.

How often do we encounter spirits we’ve danced with before, and never stop to acknowledge it? We are barely aware of our moments of deja-vu, we hurry past those twinkles of recognition. All too quickly we rush through our precious days, bent on accomplishments and accompanying metrics to measure our successes. All the while, all around us are old friends in new skins, and new conversations just waiting to be had.

Thanks, Athena’s mom, for the ease and largess. Thanks for bringing my friend to the Madhouse this morning. Thanks, Athena, for recognizing me again, and for rekindling our connection. Thanks loving me enough to ask me that really important,  really cool question. And thanks for really wanting to hear the answer. You’re a good friend.

“Are you happy today?”

Let  me sit betimes in some verdant place

Far away from care

And let me write, or think and dream

Perhaps just sit and stare at nothing, sweet nothing.

Let me be still

For I strive far too much

In this workaday world

Out of sync with rhythms primal

Habits simple, out of whack.

I could use some soothing

Sounds of water, hawk, wind

to wash away my busy mind.

Small miracles catch me, bewitch me

And then I remember to breathe deep

So life fills me to bursting

Bursting, I tell you.

“Become” I hear, “…become”

Be. Come. I overthink

And then I get lost. Again.

Sit with me, friend.

Abide with me in companionable silence

Let your breath ebb and flow

As the sweet day passes softly

Beneath our bare feet.

Give over your cares and concerns

Lay back and count clouds.

These moments are too precious

To waste in staying busy.

There is always more to do

More to accomplish

More to achieve

It’s all so wearying sometimes.

Abide with me, friend

Let the day slip by.

Leave the pressures

Of your very important life

The world will keep spinning

While you do

Nothing.

FEAR. False Expectations Appearing Real.

As Michael Pritchard says, “Fear is that little darkroom where negatives are developed.” Yup.

Fears are usually nothing more than sick fantasies we’ve made up to scare ourselves into protecting ourselves somehow.

Sometime ago we chose to survive. Likewise, is some way or another, somewhere in our past we decided that being safe was preferable to growing.  That facing or moving through the fear simply MUST be worse than avoiding it. That the dread we willingly inflict upon ourselves is somehow easier to bear than the fear we dare not face.

And we’re wrong. Oh, so wrong.

No matter how scalding or searing the fear we face and walk through is, it truly pales by experience in comparison to that dread. Dread goes on and on and on. It saps our enthusiasms, our joys, our happiness, our energies. It becomes a chronically unhealed wound. And like a tooth that’s lost its filling, we are drawn to stick our tongue in the hole to make sure it still hurts.

And it does.

Dread cannot survive where fear is met lucidly, with Purpose of intent and allies at your back. It becomes superfluous, and you begin to experience it clearly as an unnecessary encumbrance, a nuisance more and more easily put aside.

But own your fear? What the @&$% does that mean?

Well, it comes down to this: if you don’t own your fears, they will own you. You will be nothing more than a marionette suspended from strings that jerk your around by your irrational short and curlies to your detriment and the cost of the world. Yes, the cost of the world. For while you’re paralyzed by your dread and avoiding the fears that own you through your avoidance, the world suffers from  the lack of your true presence, from the joy of receiving your gifts.

Yes, you. Precious gifts. Really.

Claim your fears. Own them, and in doing so, gain dominion over them. Do not resist them in foolish squandered hours of dread. Take the hands of your allies, take a deep breath, and take a step through your False Expectations Appearing Real and into the Real World, which is hungry for you.

Hungry. For you.

—————————————————————

Molly Burke CPCC MSU
Queen of Confidence
www.lifepurposeworks.com
“Even before I begin, I am made of win!”

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