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Hi dears! I'm Kylie. I teach people how to like themselves and practice sublime self-care. Welcome.

when you need inspiration to keep you going

Macklemore600px

Sometimes, when you are doing the impossible (or when it feels like you’re doing the impossible), you need some inspiration.

There’s a lot that has changed for me since August 10th, 2012, my last day at my day job. But one of the most pronounced changes is the fact that, now, I’m always on the prowl for inspiration. Anything that will propel me forward is welcome, in any form.

Luminaries who overcame seemingly insurmountable odds. Performers who found a way to do good with their art, when everyone told them it couldn’t be done. People who kept on going, through battles with addiction, and personal tragedy, and without support.

Because of this search for inspiration, I’ve found a lot of it, tucked into corners both expected and unexpected. I share these things with my clients when they start feeling down in the dumps about themselves, their businesses, their art.

Today I’m giving a talk for the members of Michelle’s When I Grow Up Clubhouse. The topic? How to maintain unshakeable self-worth, regardless of how your business is doing.

I’m going to be teaching the Clubhousers a whole host of different techniques and approaches, one of which is to have inspiration at the ready, all the time.

This post, chock-full of inspiring stuff, is for the Clubhousers. It’s also for you, whenever you need it.

Get inspired by this stuff. Come back for more whenever you need it. And by all means, if you have inspiring stuff to share, please do so in the comments.

. . .

Ira Glass on Storytelling from David Shiyang Liu on Vimeo.

Alex has this wonderful piece about what’s possible, and this is something that I share with clients (and friends! And myself!) whenever they start to think things aren’t possible.

Amanda Palmer talks about asking. And about the breathtaking generosity of humans.

From Lisa: Listen to yourself for a change.

Morgan Spurlock has a new series called The Failure Club. It is so totally in line with our Itty Bitty Adventures. And it is so totally awesome.

From Leonie: Honestly. Business doesn’t have to be like that.

“Only a couple women have ever climbed V13, let alone a ten-year-old kid.”

From an interview with Lisa Congdon: “I’ve stopped worrying about what others think about my work or if it’s going to sell. The irony is that I’ve been more successful over the past year than I ever have.”

Music. Oh my gosh. This is what’s been inspiring me a whole lot lately (well, in addition to Dolly Parton’s book, Dream More). Music. And so I made you a playlist of inspiration. Some of it may be cheesy, but you know what? Sometimes cheese is terribly inspiring.

 

And here’s the absolute cherry on top of all this other inspiration. It gave me tingles all over.

 

. . .

♥ Big thanks to all you Facebook and Twitter buddies who helped me curate this list. And please, do add more below! ♥

itty bitty adventures: telling hard truths

HardTruths

Today is Itty Bitty Adventure Club day! Yay hooray!

The Itty Bitty Adventure Club is this thing where I talk about teeny tiny adventures I take. You can read more about it here. I’d love for you to share your adventures, too, either in the comments or on your own blog. If you do so on your blog, post the link in the comments, and I’ll add ya’ to the post so we can all share the adventurey joy.

. . .

The itty bitty adventure in question:

Sometimes, when I’m coaching, I need to tell people things that might, to them, seem unpleasant or scary. I’ve generally held the opinion that I should allow clients to arrive at these conclusions on their own. I think this is mostly because of how I was trained as a coach, with a model that sometimes de-emphasized the input of the coach during sessions.

For the most part, I’m in favor of this model. It’s a model that says the coachee is the expert on her own life, and I heartily agree with that. But in certain cases, it’s invaluable for a coach to share hard truths as they surface, especially when the client is unaware of them.

While the client’s internal process is central to the coaching process, every client wears her own set of blinders. It sometimes takes a bit of a jostle to remove them. Telling a hard truth can do just that: jostle things up.

The monsters that showed up when I decided on my adventure:

Monster #1: “What if you’re being too harsh by sharing these truths?”

My response: Possible, but doubtful. It’s actually much more likely that I’ve been a little too yielding, and that some hard truth would benefit coach and client both. While the telling of truth might seem harsh, it’s actually very loving. It’s a direct tool I can use to help people release themselves from thoughts and situations that imprison them. Telling the hard truth benefits everybody, but most especially my clients.

Monster #2: “What if your clients don’t like this and they up and leeeeeave?”

My response: Oh, my dear. I see that this feels scary to say things that might not immediately be well received. It leaves you feeling exposed and uncertain. This is a really deep fear, because it leads to the fear that this self-employment thing won’t work out. That’s scary.

Remember this: If any clients leave because I’m lovingly telling the truth, they just aren’t the right clients for me. I help people like themselves and care for themselves, and a tall order like that is naturally going to be accompanied discomfort and changes, both internal and external. I would not be serving my clients to the best of my ability if I didn’t illuminate hard truths when I see them. And it’s essential to me that I offer them the best I have.

How it all went down:

Gradually, over the past few weeks, I’ve accepted and even embraced the need for the telling of hard truths. I’ve told them. It’s been the tiniest of adventures, but with a huge payoff. It’s led to my clients being more honest with themselves, with me, and with their circumstances.

Sometimes, I send out a hard truth and don’t know how it’s received. This is a part of being an interpersonal practitioner, and it’s okay. Other times, I know immediately how it’s been received. Either way, the fact that I’ve offered it is what matters. They key, I think, is that I offer these truths with love.

The side effects:

Empowerment, for me and for my clients. It’s infinitely empowering to be truthful. It’s empowering to see the truth about your situation, when you couldn’t before. When I tell even hard truths, I’m beaming out the message that I confidently stand behind my coaching, and that translates directly to progress for my clients.

Mischief managed!

Do you have any itty bitty adventuring to report? If so, please do share in the comments or on your own blog. If not, grab a badge in the sidebar to the left, then join us next week!

itty bitty adventures: resting up

Rest

Today, Adventure Mouse is in hibernation. She’s resting up because, as we talked about in this post (part of my fear series on Roots of She), rest is absolutely necessary in between itty bitty adventures.

Read the post, A Soft Place to Land, right here.

Next week, we’ll be back to our adventuring ways. Feel free to share your stories of adventuring (or rest between adventures) in the comments and/or on your own blog.

i want you to complain more. here’s why.

Complain

 

I think the world would be a better place if everyone in it complained a little bit more. Or a lot more.

 

There just isn’t enough complaining happening. Or at least, there isn’t enough of the right type of complaining happening.

 

There’s a lot of complaining going on when people feel they shouldn’t be complaining. There’s a lot of complaining happening that goes unheard by its audience. There are a lot of stifled complaints, and healfhearted complaints to test what’s acceptable in a given venue.

 

There’s too much pushing away of the negativity. Not enough letting it be there, letting it breathe.

 

There is not enough unbridled, wholehearted whining happening.

 

There’s also insufficient enthusiasm about recognizing the crappiness of circumstances, and joining the proverbial complaining bandwagon.

 

Why, you ask, is this a problem? 

 

Aren’t we supposed to look on the bright side of things? Isn’t it better to see the glass half-full, rather than half-empty?

 

Yes, sometimes that’s true.

 

But when something rotten happens, everybody deserves a moment (or several moments) to wallow in feeling rotten about it. Like a good cry, a wholehearted, unrestrained wallow has healing powers. When complaints have ample room to air, they dissipate into less-potent beasts.

 

On the other hand, when we bottle our complaints inside (or air them guiltily, with the belief that we’re bad for complaining), they fester. They might be invisible to us, but their effects are tangible.

 

They find other, less healthy way to express themselves. Habits that hurt, that we just can’t break. Resentment. Creative stuckness.

 

Holding our complaints in isn’t good for us, and it’s no good for the people around us. 

 

Because I know all of this to be true, I have an assignment for you:

 

Complain. Complain wholeheartedly, to someone who will listen.

 

You have a few options for how to actually go about this complaining:

 

♥  Barbara Sher suggests a complaint notebook. This is a special notebook that’s reserved for letting the complaints rip, privately. You have the time and the space to air your complaints to yourself, and you do it, privately. You give yourself full permission to complain as much as you want, as long as you want. And if you don’t want anyone else to know that you’re secretly a huge fan of complaining, there’s no reason they need to.

 

♥  Alternately, you could get yourself a complaining buddy. I suggest this, instead of simply complaining to any old person, because it can be difficult to find someone to complain to who will really, truly allow you to get into it, without judging you or trying to give you a solution to your problem. (When you’re in the midst of a complaining session, a reasonable solution is the last thing you need. Better to save the solutions for a couple days later, when the complaints have had their turn and you’re ready for action.)

Here’s how the complaining buddy thing works: you agree with someone to be their complaining buddy. You complain to them, and they complain to you. Each of you has some sort of time allotment in which to complain without interruption. Your buddy listens to your complaints and doesn’t say a whole lot, unless to add that, yes, that really sucks. Or, I would be so pissed, too. It’s like you’re in on a little secret together. The secret of how good it feels to passionately complain every once in a while.

 

♥  If you feel able to, you can also ask someone in your life to hear your complaints. You can say something like, “Listen, I really need to complain for a few minutes. Will you listen to me and acknowledge me and agree with me and not offer any solutions to my problems for a few minutes? I need to hang out in complainey-land, just for a bit.”

If you have someone in your life who’s able to hear your complaints and fully acknowledge them, good for you. If you don’t have that, don’t sweat it. Most of us don’t, which is why I always suggest the complaint notebook first.

 

So please, go forth. Complain, out loud or on paper.

 

Just make sure to be enthusiastic about your complaining. Try to do it without feeling guilty, if possible. Everyone’s suffering is entirely legitimate, no matter who they are, and no matter their circumstances.

 

Everybody deserves a good complaint once in a while.

 . . .

Like this? You might also like my weekly Self-Love Letters:

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this is my home

Vase

This is my home.

As such, I’m in charge of its upkeep.

Its weekly toenail and fingernail clippings,

its fresh coats of paint.

It’s my duty and honor to make it a home, not simply a house.

I dust the cobwebs from the corners,

I clear out the rooms with smoking sage.

I only invite in visitors I trust, and who respect my space.

Sometimes, I throw parties here. Then, I break out the streamers, the bubbly, the prettiest linens.

We have fun here.

The next day, I take time to clean up and transition my home from party mode to daily life mode.

When something breaks in my home, I fix it.

When I can’t make the repair myself, I call in a specialist.

I’ve carefully selected them over the years, because I only trust the most kind and talented people with my precious space.

Sometimes, they show me how to fix things myself, for the future.

I’m always learning how to be a better homeowner, how to keep things running smoothly.

I love my home just as it is. Some people think their homes are too small or too large, and are always in the middle of renovation projects.

I understand what that’s like.

But I’d rather make the best of the home I have, buy it flowers from time to time, and relax in it, even when it’s looking plain.

That’s how I choose to make my life here.

It’s a life that’s full of family and friends, loud gatherings and quiet moments of solitude.

My home never looks picture-perfect, and that’s the way I like it.

It’s lived-in and populated with imperfect presence.

It’s tear-streaked. It tells my story.

This is my home.

itty bitty adventures: a canine outing

Woof

Today is Itty Bitty Adventure Club day! Yay hooray!

The Itty Bitty Adventure Club is this thing where I talk about teeny tiny adventures I take. You can read more about it here. I’d love for you to share your adventures, too, either in the comments or on your own blog. If you do so on your blog, post the link in the comments, and I’ll add ya’ to the post so we can all share the adventurey joy.

. . .

The itty bitty adventure in question:

It’s been, oh, about four years now that we’ve been wanting to walk a dog from the shelter near us. Four years! But have we? No. Well, not until this weekend, that is.

Several of our friends have walked dogs from this shelter, they’ve told us how easy and fun and simple it is, and yet we were still scared. Sometimes, this happens. Fear keeps you from doing things you very much want to do, even when the thing in question is not a big deal in the least.

Finally, finally, we mustered up some courage and went and did it. I’m still so very proud. This little thing feels like a big accomplishment.

The monsters that showed up when I decided on my adventure:

Monster #1: “What if the people there are so super duper mean to you? That’ll be so scary. Ohmygosh scary.”

My response: I so completely and totally understand your fear and worry here. People can sometimes be rather . . . abrasive, can’t they? And when they are, it really does not feel good to you. Because you’re sensitive and so very well-intentioned. Oh, sweetie. I know how that is. Big hug.

We’ll protect you as much as we can, okay? We’ll expect the best, we’ll do this with Mary (because it’s always less scary to adventure with a friend), and we’ll allow time for recuperation afterward. Hopefully the people will be nice. But if they’re not, we’ll know what to do.

Monster #2: “What if something terrible happens with the dog that proves that you’re a terrible dog person who should not have a dog, ever?”

My response: I’m getting the sense that you’re worried that something “bad” will happen, and that that will have great, big meaning about who I am as a person and what I “deserve” in life. Which doesn’t sound like it feels good at all. First of all, let’s remember that worrying about “something bad” is a big, amorphous fear that doesn’t actually have much substance. It’s just this puffed-up essence of badness/scariness.

I want to also remind you that we’re prepared for this. We’re going to ask for a smaller dog, since it’s our first time doing this, and that will help us to feel more sure. We’re going together, which, again, helps things feel less scary. Plus, several of our friends have done this and had a great time at it. If they can do it, we can, too.

How it all went down:

We went to the shelter, and they gave us a dog right away (I’m guessing that people come there to walk dogs all the time, that it’s completely normal to do this). Her name was Leah, and she was an energetic Chihuahua mix who definitely needed a good walk.

And walk we did! We also ran. Leah sniffed things, and, you know, pooped. A good time was had by all. And then we returned Leah to her shelter and wondered why the heck it had taken us so long to do this.

The side effects:

Mostly a great big sigh of relief. This was such an incredibly easy thing to do, and yet we’d been putting it off for so long that it started to seem much scarier than it actually was. Now, I feel much more comfortable about returning to the shelter and walking another dog on another day. In fact, I’m very much looking forward to it.

Mischief managed!

Do you have any itty bitty adventuring to report? If so, please do share in the comments or on your own blog. If not, grab a badge in the sidebar to the left, then join us next week!

itty bitty adventures: cutting work time in half

MorePlay

Today is Itty Bitty Adventure Club day! Yay hooray!

The Itty Bitty Adventure Club is this thing where I talk about teeny tiny adventures I take. You can read more about it here. I’d love for you to share your adventures, too, either in the comments or on your own blog. If you do so on your blog, post the link in the comments, and I’ll add ya’ to the post so we can all share the adventurey joy.

. . .

The itty bitty adventure in question:

As you know, I’m still pretty new to this whole self-employment thing. Because of that, I’m always trying new things. I must experiment with every part of my business and work flow before I decide on what works for me, and what doesn’t. There’s a lot of trial and error going on. I’m learning. It’s all good.

So when I talked with the oh-so-fabulous Max Daniels about how I was working quite a few hours but not feeling like I was getting a lot done, she made a radical suggestion: cut my work time in half. I resisted. So much so that she had to suggest it twice before I even tried it. But try it I did, because I trust Max like crazy. And so began my radical, and totally subversive, experiment in working for only about four hours per day for a whole, entire week.

The monsters that showed up when I decided on my adventure:

Monster #1: “Oh good god you cannot possibly even try that for one day! You will actually be without a home, clothing, or shelter if you cut one work day in half, much less five! And then you will die a fiery death! Run away from the catastrophe and continue to work eight hours a day, no questions asked!”

My response: Wow, you’re reacting rather strongly to this suggestion, huh? This must feel really scary for you. I’m hearing that you’re about 99% terrified that if you work less, you’ll end up in complete financial ruin, whatever that means.

These feelings are totally legitimate. It can be terrifying to intentionally take actions that contradict our conditioning, and your conditioning around work and money is some deep-seated stuff. As such, we’re going to proceed with caution. We don’t have to do these half days for a full week if we don’t want. We can try one day, or two or three. We will choose days when we’re already needing recovery and so might not even be physically able to be productive for eight hours.

We’ll also remember that this “complete financial ruin” scenario is a large generalization. It’s simply not realistic thinking. Remember, you have savings. You have family and friends to support you if things ever do get financially wobbly. But right now, you can absolutely afford a few days of experimentation.

Monster #2: “What will people SAY?! What will people THINK?! You cannot tell ANYONE, ever.”

My response: Sounds like you’re very afraid of how people will perceive you. You’re afraid they’ll think you’re not a hard worker, or that you’re not trying, or they might even be jealous of you if you do this experiment for yourself. That makes sense. There’s a whoooole lotta cultural messages out there about the merit of work for work’s sake. And true, you might come in contact with people who also espouse those messages. Remember that that’s their stuff, and their stuff is for them to deal with. What’s for you to deal with is how you react to their stuff.

You seem to be afraid of rejection, which I can understand. You want belonging and love. And you know what? I know you know that the kindest, most loving people in your life will support this experiment. They’ll even support it if they happen to be dealing with their own challenging reactions to it, which don’t pertain to you. What’s more is that you don’t have to tell everyone (or anyone, actually). Nobody needs to know when you’re working and what you’re working on. Or how leisurely or rapidly you work. It’s your responsibility to do what works for you. If that includes telling people, fine. If that includes keeping this private, that, too, is fine. You’re in charge, which means you get to do what’s best for you.

How it all went down:

After Golden Ticket, I was just too pooped to work full days, so it was actually perfect that I had these four-hour days planned. In fact, I’m fairly sure that the first few days of the week, I worked even less than planned, because I was so heavily in rest and recover mode. A week of half days was just what I needed. In fact, I think it was entirely necessary to maintaining my self-care.

I’ll admit that I didn’t feel I “got as much done” during this week as I usually would in a week. I felt a bit behind, a bit like I wasn’t completely present in my business. So that’s something to note, good data to use as I continue to experiment.

But it felt good. It felt good to give myself the rest I needed, and trust that it would be the right decision for me and my business. It felt lovely to have several coffee dates with friends and colleagues later in the week, and to know that I could enjoy those instead of feeling like I “should” be getting work done during that time.  It felt good to have major rest, relaxation and self-care be the main goals of my days.

The side effects:

This is definitely something I’m going to continue to work with. I want and deeply desire more play, pleasure, and fun in my life. And that means more time outside, more time with friends, and less time at the computer. I’m keeping in mind what Leonie wrote earlier this week, and playing around with ways I can shorten my working time while making the quality of my work even better. I’m wondering how sublimely great self-care will lead to even more clients coming in the door. I’m curious about how play and vacation mind might spark dozens of new, better ideas each day. And I’m gonna keep at it (playfully, of course) until I find out.

Mischief managed!

What other Itty Bitty Adventure Clubbers are up to this week:

Erin had an epic weekend away with friends. In-credible!

Do you have any itty bitty adventuring to report? If so, please do share in the comments or on your own blog. If not, grab a badge in the sidebar to the left, then join us next week!

how to opt out of media messages that hurt

CriticalAwareness

We know the mainstream media doesn’t do us any favors when it comes to how we feel about ourselves. Especially in regard to the way we look. But besides sequestering ourselves indoors and never listening to the radio, watching TV, or reading anything, what can we do about it?

We can develop critical media awareness. We can know what’s going on when we consume media and, instead of automatically internalizing its messages, make a choice about whether we’d like to integrate those messages into our lives.

Today I’m sharing a series of questions that serve as a set of filters. Whenever you see an ad, article, or piece of entertainment that causes you to feel poorly about yourself, you can run it through these questions, which will help you to look at it objectively and critically.

Here we go…

 

When you start to compare yourself to someone you see on television or a magazine, ask: Is it this person’s full-time job to conform to mainstream ideals of beauty?

Most of the people we see represented in the media have the full-time job of maintaining an appearance that conforms to the mainstream ideals of their culture, ideals that are unrealistic for the vast majority of people. This means that these people must maintain their appearance in order to pay their rent. It also means that they might exercise several hours per day. With a dedicated personal trainer. They might also eat in a very specific way and perhaps have their own chef cooking specialized meals for them. In addition, they’re in this business in part because they happened to be genetically predisposed to fit today’s beauty ideals, which are decided by our culture, not reality.

In addition, these people have aestheticians that help them look the way they do. Their appearance upkeep might include plastic surgery, chemical peels, Botox, liposuction, tanning and body contouring, makeup artistry, hair styling, eyelash extension (yes, that’s actually a thing), and wardrobe styling. They most likely also have specially designed lighting and high-quality lenses trained on them if you’re seeing them on screen or in print.

To say the least, most of the people you see in the media aren’t in their natural state, by any stretch of the imagination. It’s entirely unfair, and actually, absurd, to expect yourself to look like them.

 

When you start to feel down while reading an article or watching a movie, ask: Does this piece of media make me feel good about myself?

If an article you’re reading makes you feel like an inferior human being, you have the right to stop. If watching a particular commercial leaves you feeling ugly, you can change the channel. It doesn’t matter why you feel badly. If you do, you always have the choice to remove that piece of media from your life.

 

Whenever you’re consuming any form of media, ask: Are they trying to sell me something?

Many companies, especially those that sell beauty products, manufacture problems for us to feel badly about so that they can “solve” them. If a company is trying to sell you something, they’re thinking, first and foremost, about making a profit. Not about you and your welfare. To them, you’re one consumer among millions. You’re not required to buy anything from them or even listen to what they have to say.

 

When a piece of media just isn’t sitting right with you, ask: Does this message match my own system of values?

What is important in your life? Friends? Family? Leaving a legacy of charitable giving? Kindness? Whatever your values are, you can pay attention to media that support those values, and leave the rest. You live in a culture that values appearance and wealth, youth and whiteness. That doesn’t mean you have to value those things. Feel free to dismiss anything that doesn’t support what you, yourself, value.

. . .

These are just some of the questions you can ask to filter your media through a critical lens. The main thing to remember is that you have a choice about the messages you integrate into your life. You always have a choice.

 

Comments: This is a space for playful exploration. We each take responsibility for our own experience, and we allow other people to have their experience. We refrain from giving advice, and we contribute with kindness and care.

itty bitty adventures: my golden ticket

MyGoldenTicket

Photo by the radiant Hannah Marcotti, with my modifications

Today is Itty Bitty Adventure Club day! Yay hooray!

The Itty Bitty Adventure Club is this thing where I talk about teeny tiny adventures I take. You can read more about it here. I’d love for you to share your adventures, too, either in the comments or on your own blog. If you do so on your blog, post the link in the comments, and I’ll add ya’ to the post so we can all share the adventurey joy.

 . . .

The itty bitty adventure in question:

Oh, dear heavens. Since last we spoke on the subject of adventuring, I have taken many, many adventures. So many, in fact, that I was a little bowled over by them last week. Adventure Mouse and I were completely, utterly tuckered out. Since then, we’ve been resting. Lots. As I shared in a (shockingly timely, for myself) guest post on Roots of She, there’s a lot of resting that needs to happen after you push yourself outside your comfort zone.

There are many itty bitty adventures that I could tell you about this week, but I’m going to choose the biggest one. Over the weekend, I recorded a five-minute video about my work, in front of a live audience. It was the most terrifying thing I’ve done in a very long time.

The reason I was there, in Manhattan, recording a video, is that I participated in Tanya Geisler and Michelle Ward’s incredibly fabulous I Want a Golden Ticket program. For the culminating, live event that ended the program, all the participants traveled to New York to spend a day together and film brief videos about our work, some of which were a little like mini-TED Talks. And that is how I ended up in front of a camera and a room full of supportive faces, sharing what I do, trying not to get too tongue-tied.

The monsters that showed up when I decided on my adventure:

I think it would be quicker to tell you what monsters didn’t show up on my adventure. But here are two of the big ones I met along the way:

Monster #1: “You shouldn’t even do this. You’re going to mess it up, anyway. Just say you’re going to bow out of this part of the program.”

My response: I know you want to protect me from the extreme discomfort of doing something that’s totally unfamiliar and terrifying to me. You want to save me from something that could feel really traumatic. But I promise you that we’re safe no matter what happens. I could get up there and be unable to speak, and all the people there would be SO kind about it. Or I could get up there and burst into tears, and they still wouldn’t think any less of me. This is an immensely supportive environment, and this is the perfect place to do this scary thing.

Monster #2: “You can’t memorize things, and you can’t talk off the cuff, so what. the heck. are you going to doooooo?”

My response: You, too, are trying to protect me, huh? You don’t want me to experience all that frustration of trying unsuccessfully to memorize something. You also don’t want me to feel like I’m just reciting a speech. And I think, most of all, that you don’t want me to experience the anguish of feeling embarrassed if I get tongue-tied or my mind goes blank when the tape is rolling and people are watching. I’m going to try to have a general idea of my talk in my head. I’m going to try to memorize it. And I’m also going to practice deviating a bit from the “script” if I can manage it. I’ll do the best I can to prepare, and I’ll remember the essence of what I want to convey: permission and compassion. If nothing else, I can radiate those qualities and summon some trust that all will be okay.

How it all went down:

I arrived early at the clean, white box of a theater where the day was to take place, because I was also photographing the event. I felt relief upon arrival. I was among friends, both those I’d met before and those I was just now meeting for the first time. I also had the added bonus of being occupied by getting good photos, which meant that I couldn’t be bothered with worrying about my talk. I trusted that my preparation had been enough, and I did my photographing thing.

When it was time for me to do my talk, I messed up. Both in rehearsal and in the “real thing.” But it was actually okay. I was so proud of myself for getting to that point where I was up in front of the room, on camera, that it almost didn’t matter how it turned out. I don’t know if my video will be a good representation of who I am and what I do. I do know that the next time I need to give a talk or be on camera, I’ll have a lot more faith that I have the ability to do so. And that will mean that I’ll be less afraid, even if only slightly.

The side effects:

I felt truly transformed by this experience. In this one day, I remembered the fact that, on some level, I like being in front of people. After all, I used to act and sing in front of audiences. The fact that I don’t do that right now doesn’t mean it isn’t intertwined, still, into who I am.

I also felt really, really loved and seen that day. My fellow Golden Ticket participants were so incredibly kind, and so generous with their praise. Several of them shared with me that my presence that day was calm, assuring, and compassionate; and I truly could not hope for anything more than that.

This terrifying experience allowed me to inhabit those qualities a little bit more than I already was. That, to me, is priceless, because it means that I can share more of those qualities with the people I serve and teach.

Mischief managed!

Do you have any itty bitty adventuring to report? If so, please do share in the comments or on your own blog. If not, grab a badge in the sidebar to the left, then join us next week!

a look inside my daily self-care

Twinings

Self-care is my job. Which makes sense, because I’m a coach who helps people to like and care for themselves.

I’d also argue that self-care is your job, no matter who you are and how you earn your money. It doesn’t matter that it isn’t your only job, but it does matter. The better you’re able to take care of yourself, the better you can live your life. And the better you live your life, the more you contribute to the world. I very honestly believe that the kinder we are to ourselves, the more kindness we bring to the world.

Self-care is also personal. As personal as it gets, really. This is a look at what my self-care happened to look like on a randomly-chosen weekday in late January.

. . .

7:00 am: My alarm goes off, and I unconsciously snooze it for five minutes.

7:05 am: My alarm sounds again, and, a little more conscious this time, I realize I won’t be getting up right now. I reset it for 7:30.

That’s my self-care today.

7:30 am: The alarm sounds once more, and I know it’s time to get up. I lie in bed for a few more minutes, eyes open, listening. I sit up, have a sip of water from the glass on the bedside table, step onto the wooden floor, stand.

I head to the bathroom, where I take my Zoloft, floss, then brush my teeth. I haven’t always been a regular flosser, but for the past couple months, I’ve been doing pretty well. I’ve been flossing in the morning instead of at night, and that has resulted in a lot more success.

Bedspread

Back to the bedroom to make the bed. I almost never managed to get the bed made on a daily basis until August, when I quit my day job. Since then, I’ve made it most days. It’s self-care that lasts me the whole day, since I now work from home.

That’s my self-care today.

Now to the kitchen, where I take my fermented cod liver oil, wash it down with cold water (because it tastes really bad), then eat a few forkfuls of lacto-fermented sauerkraut. This duo is a mainstay of my self-care practice. I’ve been taking cod liver oil for years and switched to the fermented stuff during the past year. It really seemed to clear up my skin, so I’ve stuck with it, even though it’s more expensive and tastes terrible. The sauerkraut also seems to help my skin and general digestive health.

Sauerkraut

8:00 am: I now head to the couch, where I sit down and swaddle myself in a blanket for ten minutes of meditation. I used to meditate sitting cross-legged, but it hurt my back, so I now sit on the couch with my feet on the floor.

That’s my self-care today.

8:15 am: I don’t feel like it at all, but I know I need to take a walk outside. This isn’t a normal part of my routine, but I’ve been feeling depressed lately, so I’m doing everything I can to counteract that. Getting outdoors more is one of those things. I change into exercise clothes, bundle up, and walk around my neighborhood for about twenty minutes. I try to be mindful of my surroundings by noticing smells, sights and sounds; and I consciously take note of pleasant things I notice. All this is intended to challenge my mind’s depressive patterns of thought. When I get home, I’m glad I got outside. I feel slightly more alive and awake, even if I do still feel depressed.

8:45 am: I’m hungry now, so I have my breakfast and eat it mindfully. Mindful eating is another big part of my self-care. I don’t always manage it, but today I do.

Desktop

9:00 am: Time to start working. I sit down at our table, wrap a blanket around myself, and start writing. I’m working on a loose script for a talk I’m giving in a couple weeks, and I’m nervous about it. But today is a great chance to work on it, because I don’t have any coaching sessions scheduled. And so I do. I write for a couple hours, taking breaks to go to the bathroom, get myself water, and wash dishes. I try to allow my writing to be really, really imperfect. I know it’s always easier to work on a piece of writing after I have something on the page, so I’m setting the bar low. Any words on the page constitute progress.

That’s my self-care today.

Dishes

11:00 am: I can’t possibly write anymore right now. Plus, I have a rough draft of the whole talk by now, so it will probably be better for me to return to it and edit tomorrow. I spend some time sending and responding to emails, working on a blog post, and checking in on Twitter.

12:00 pm: I make lunch and then try to focus on enjoying it. I’ve noticed recently that I tend to forget to delight in mundane things like eating lunch when I’m feeling depressed. I intentionally try to appreciate the colors of my food, the tastes, the textures. It feels annoying to take note of these things, but I do it anyway.

12:30 pm: I check in on my To Do list, trying to determine how I’d like my afternoon to look. I remember that I need to make doctor appointments for Mary and myself, and I decide to do that. Making doctor appointments has been on my list for days, and I keep putting it off because it feels less “necessary” than work-related tasks. But getting to the dentist and the doctor are critical to my self-care. I no longer consider them negotiable parts of my life.

Weights

1:30 pm: I’m craving some more intense exercise, as I haven’t done anything more than walk for a couple days. Usually I’d go to the gym, but I don’t want to take quite that much time today, so I do about half an hour of a P90X weight video at home. Half an hour feels like just the amount of movement I’m needing right now.

That’s my self-care today.

2:30 pm: It’s now time for what I’ve been . . . not looking forward to . . . today: a focus on my financial self-care. I need to do some bookkeeping and send things over to my accountant, and I’m scared about it. I tell myself that if I do some work on it, in any form, for an hour, I get a break. I take deep breaths, remind myself that I can ask my accountant questions if I need to, and get started. I don’t get far in an hour, but I do have a better idea of what needs to happen. I also feel less worried and nervous.

AnimalCrackerSnack

3:30 pm: Break time! I make myself some tea and fix a little plate of dark chocolate and animal crackers for a snack. I don’t think I’ll ever cease to be delighted by eating animal crackers. I spend a leisurely half hour watching a TV show on Netflix, feeling proud of myself for tackling my bookkeeping, and thoroughly enjoying a nibble on my little donkeys and elephants.

That’s my self-care today.

SquareCandle

SmallBusinessBook

4:00 pm: I’m now feeling a little more confident, and I decide to really dig into the bookkeeping. I get out the Small Business Start-Up Kit for reference, continue enjoying my tea, and light a candle. Anything I can do to make things more pleasant while I work on something that’s scary for me. I focus on my finances for at least two hours, and I get a lot done. When I emerge from my spreadsheets and numbers, it’s almost dark outside. I decide to put the finances to bed for the night, and my work day, too. I put away my books and calendar and papers, and I check tomorrow’s schedule so I’ll know what sessions are on the docket.

6:30 pm: Now I’m in after-work mode. It’s time to chat about the day; make, eat, and clean up after dinner; and even watch Jeopardy. I also take a shower and change into my pajamas, because I most certainly won’t be going outside again tonight.

9 pm: My brain is pooped, and it needs something fun and soothing to focus on. I would usually wind down by watching a TV show or a movie, but (again with the depression) I’ve been trying to spend more time with books than TV lately. I climb in bed with a Harry Potter book that I’ve already read at least three times. It feels really good to spend time in that make-believe world before drifting off to sleep in the real one.

I still have work to do on my talk, and I don’t have my accounting all sorted out. I feel as if maybe I should have worked more today, like possibly putting self-care before work will lead to me falling behind. I try to maintain my faith that I’m doing the right thing. I try to remember that work and life aren’t going to feel perfect, but that doesn’t mean I’m doing anything wrong.

That’s my self-care today.

 . . .

This post is part of The Perfectly Imperfect Project: Real Self-Care, a blog hop created by Mara Glatzel and Tamarisk Saunders-Davies. The point of the project? To take a look at what self-care really looks like. You can find the rest of the series, which will be posted throughout the month, here. Tomorrow’s contribution will be brought to us by the lovely Danielle Dowling