Sarah K Peck – Page 18

The power of breath: why breathing happens before anything else.

Posted on October 31, 2013October 28, 2013 by Sarah K Peck

06_San Francisco Golden Gate Bridge in Fog

It’s not always easy to breathe.

Breathing—the intake of oxygen and the exhalation of carbon dioxide—is life’s essential force. It’s the first step our physical bodies take towards making all other actions possible, including thinking.

In swimming, the rhythm of breathing is essential: you only have a few opportunities to catch a breath; it’s about timing your intake with your arms, kicks, and rotation. Without air, you can’t work the water.

Breath happens before anything.

Out in the open water, in the waves of the ocean, with the salt water sprays and the swells that take over, sometimes I turn my face upwards and a wave slams me in the face. I close my mouth, pass by that opportunity, hold the air in my lungs, and try again on the next cycle. Sometimes it takes a few turns before I get to suck in some oxygen.

My relationship with breathing has always been tenuous: when I was eleven, I was diagnosed with asthma. I learned my lungs were restricting my airways—and it would jump on me like a sudden cold, onset in minutes, causing breathing to be painful.

I would hide my inhalers, because I didn’t want something that gave me a crutch or a reason that I couldn’t be as good as anyone else. I learned how to push my back open against a floor, to rub my lungs to clear them, and how to hold my breath to stop my body from panicking.

I also learned how to hold my breath for a really long time. Getting into the pool every day gave me an intimate familiarity with the ways my lungs worked.

Swimming actually taught me how to breathe again.

Today, three years later, I’ve become an open water swimmer, chasing longer distances with each ocean adventure I find. I will routinely be late to work or leave for long lunch hours just to spend those hours in the ocean, my friend, the place where my soul is restored.

I need to touch the water, to splash, and to feel the curve of a wave beneath my hands. I’ll grab a board, and float out to sea, heart and head against the board, listening and feeling the rhythm beneath my body. My breathing will inadvertently sync up with the ocean swells, and the anxiety of my digital, corporate life gets left ashore. I’ll get up early, earlier than the sun, wander down to the ocean, and get into the water just to tune my body back into the rhythm of the earth.

But I had to learn how.

Your breath: check in with yourself:

First, right now, as you’re sitting at the computer or staring at your screen to read this post: what does your breath pattern look like? Do you notice it? Are you breathing? Some people stop breathing while they are reading, and they raise their shoulders and hold tension in their bodies while at the computer. (A telltale sign is if you let out periodic sighs. Listen to others if you’re in a room, or set an audio-recorder on yourself for an hour. You’ll forget about it and can then listen to the breath sounds play back. It’s fascinating.)

Next, find a space to lie on the floor. Take a deep breath. Take ten slow breaths, with your eyes closed. Push the air all the way in and out of your lungs. Where are the bottoms of your lungs? Where are the tops of them? Can you fill the space entirely?

Practice changing the cadence of your breathing. Take 10 very quick micro-breaths. Feel your rib cage move in and out. Feel your heart race, your pulse jump, feel the reaction.

Breathe again, slowly.

Your breath is the foundation on top of which every other activity takes place. You can train it, just like you can train everything else. Change your body rhythms by controlling your breath.

Breathe.

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I originally wrote this post for Julien Smith’s Homework series during the epic campaign to swim naked from Alcatraz to San Francisco. Breathe is powerful, so I’m reposting as part of this November series while I’m away in Bali.

Bali, bliss, and a big old birthday: taking a life, work, and digital retreat.

Posted on October 28, 2013December 7, 2014 by Sarah K Peck

“Do great work, and love–that is the meaning of life.”

Bali, bliss, and a big old birthday.

It all started with a single post in February, 2010.

I had just gotten an extra job as a writer paying $10 per post, and I snapped it up. It was my side project. My writing was terrible. I was paid to give advice to new college graduates on how to navigate the corporate world, and despite being a few years into my own career, I still felt like I didn’t know what I was doing.

I started my blog–a friend set me up on a wordpress site and domain (which I didn’t quite understand). I wrote about not working too hard, how to recover from long work days, staying motivated, and allocating for food costs on measly budgets. I wrote book reviews and interviewed my professional friends in sports medicine, biotech, web design and more–to get their insights on what they’d learned on the job and how they crafted their careers.

Did I know what I was doing with the blog? Nope. No idea.

I just knew I wanted to write. So I wrote, every time I felt like I wanted to write about something.

I probably didn’t hit my stride until well after the first year, and I’m still learning. Each post, each month, and each iteration I continued to refine and hone my writing. I wandered through styles and posts and wrote about topics that felt like I should write about, but that truthfully I didn’t adore. But even though I didn’t know what to write about, I still wrote. I whittled. It got better. I adjusted. I said more about what I was thinking and feeling, less about what I thought people wanted to hear. It got better.

Fast-forward nearly four years later:

I’m celebrating. Big time.

I love (LOVE) what I do. I discovered an incredible connection with the written word, and I write as often as I can. I get to share it in community with other like-minded and incredible souls. I am blown away by the people I’ve met, and I’m so grateful to be a part of this. I celebrate through hard work, through experimentation, through hugs, and through trial-and-error. Tears and laughter are part of the process.

Because I’m celebrating a lot of things in this life right now, I’d love for you to join me in celebrating my birthday, this blog, and the community we share.

When I left my job earlier this year, I left in order to focus on a couple of things: movement (or health in my body), writing, and teaching. In the last few months, I’ve also started my own business, enrolled in yoga teacher training, launched several programs, and taken action on several dreams that had been sidelined for too long.

In order to do this, I saved for five years, paid down big piles of debt; gave up clothes shopping for a year; experimented with minimalism, sewing machines, and free-cycling; worked several side jobs, and hustled to make things work. I sold my car (finally), soaked up and swept up as much knowledge as I could, met incredible souls, friends and teachers, created new things, and built project after project.

Big, sweeping changes have happened alongside smaller, less outwardly-visible changes. Across all of this has been an emphasis on health, healing, and happiness. On mindfulness, movement, and growth.

Beyond the tactical and structural (quitting my job! signing up for yoga! moving! God, it sounds so much easier writing it!), there are also mental shifts changing, aligning, and expanding as I spend time listening and growing.

“You don’t have to be so busy,” the softer voice in my mind reminds me. “It’s okay to pause, reflect, and live inside of this quiet, vibrant stillness.” When I feel things–the sadness, the anger, the fear, the totality of being human–I spend more time resting in it, moving in it, moving through it. We work together, me and my emotions. It’s the human condition.

amber zuckswert teaching yoga in Bali

Amber Zuckswert teaching yoga in Bali.

Birthday bliss: taking a break in Bali.

In the spirit of health and healing, for my 30th birthday–and in honor of the work I’ve done over the past several years–I’m taking a digital sabbatical and sojourning to beautiful Bali paradise with Amy Rachelle and Amber Zuckswert for two weeks of meditation, yoga, reflection, and emotional healing. Bali is known as one of the most healing places in the world, and I’m joining a retreat group that’s focused on learning how to craft raw foods, heal the soul, and engage in mindfulness and meditation practices.

Nearly a decade ago, I started my career in architecture and design and I’ve been working nonstop ever since. For the last few years, I’ve been dreaming of taking a restful vacation–and yet I kept pushing it off. I promised myself that when I hit thirty, I’d take at least a few weeks to rest, recover, and recalibrate.

Beyond just a “vacation,” I’m opening up the mental space (and nooks and crannies!) for a reconsideration and reflection on what I’ve done, who I’ve become, and what I want to build. This marks the beginning of a different year in my life: one that’s less focused on being frenetic and more focused on being present. It’s time to celebrate, reflect, restore, and be fully Sarah–in the present, and in the moment.

I’ll be offline while I’m gone – completely unplugged and digitally unavailable – but in advance, I’ve written a series of essays that are coming out over the next few weeks.

In the spirit of reflection, birthdays, and changing decades:

This week I’ll transition out of the twenty-something decade and into the next decade (Holy smokes! I’m turning 30!). Last year we celebrated by raising $32,398 for charity: water for my 29th birthday, and the year before I wrote 28 in 52 notes, a years’ worth of lessons in one post.

In the spirit of letting things go, moving forward, taking care of yourself, and celebrating the year, here’s my annual birthday post–although I’m sure I’ll have a bigger round-up of notes and thoughts from unplugging in Bali. It can’t be a birthday without a bit of reflection on some of the learnings and highlights from the year. Here’s what I’ve learned (and am always learning):

Going pro, turning 30, and the biggest lessons from this year.

Place a lot of bets.

Try a lot of things. A year is a long time, and five years is a great amount of time to make more than just one thing happen. You can work a side hustle on the side of your day gig in a few minutes a day–write one page every other day and see what happens in a couple of months. Throw your work into the ring, and keep making your work. Try one connection or conference, and another. Don’t put all your money on one thing if you’re just starting. Get started, and test out a few things.

Be modular.

Build in iterative, successive capacities. Try things until something works, then adjust it so it works better. Put it out there. Keep going.

Do not work in isolation.

Seek feedback.

Ask for help.

Ask for everything. The more you ask, the more you get.

You don’t have to do what anyone else does.

You can do things no one has done before, you can be weird, you can be strange, and you can decide to do it differently than anything you’ve seen before. Be aware of the sheep mentality. Ask for exceptions. Modify the program to fit your needs. Learn about yourself, and make it better so you get better.

Take care of yourself.

You are the only one who can take care, and those small things—like going to sleep early, giving hugs, smiling, eating good food? They mean the world. Take very good care of yourself.

When you get better, the world benefits.

It’s not selfish.

The more you push, the more resistance there might be. Do it anyway.

The ego yells a lot of loud and scary things at you when you’re heading into moments of insight and brilliance. The more brilliantly you shine, the louder your ego–the voice that wants you to worry, to stay comfortable, to stay the same, to do things that feel safe–the louder it shouts. Listen to it like the dull roar of a stadium filled with fans, and not the shouty-shout voice it’s trying to be.

It really can be wonderful.

Be you.

“Be Sarah,” I write on my wall. (Thank you, Gretchen Rubin for the reminder to “Be Gretchen.”) Be you. “There’s nobody you-er than you,” says Doctor Seuss. Let yourself be you, deliciously and deliriously you. And the more YOU you are, the more wonder there is.

We all have self-doubts, demons, and critics.

And we all have stories. The person across from you is holding pain, hurt, and fear just like you are. We’ve all got something. Be kind and generous with their soul, and kind and generous with your own. Cradle your heart in the softness of the hammock of your ribs. Let it rest, fully, in the feeling of a breathe. Fill your lungs with love for you and the world around you, despite the pain.

Give up on dreams that you’ve tried on or dreams that you realize aren’t yours.

It’s not giving up if you don’t want it. For the longest time I had a dream to run a marathon by age 30–until I realized that I loved swimming, singing, dancing and yoga far, far more than running. And picturing myself at the end of a marathon just made me feel tired, not thrilled or excited. So sweep! I let that dream head on out the door. It wasn’t mine–it was just visiting. Finish it or punt. Know when to quit.

You don’t have to know how to explain yourself perfectly.

You can use as many words as you like, and you can screw up many times. It’s all fine. Start somewhere, tell a little story, and bit by bit we’ll get the picture.

Stories are how we understand and see the world.

We use stories to understand complex phenomenon and hang onto information. Watch, study, and listen carefully to the stories you’ve programmed in your brain and the stories you tell yourself about who you are. Changing the stories you tell yourself (through visualization, practice, and manifestation) can be incredibly powerful.

If it’s too big to do, make it smaller.

Seeing is an art, a study.

We’re designed to throw away most of the stimulus we receive because it’s too much to comprehend—we’re constantly simplifying things in our mind in order to understand them. The challenge of writing and of art is to learn how to see the world around us anew. If you want to learn how something works or how its made and marvel at it, try to draw it. Pull out a pen or pencil, a sheet of paper, and practice mapping the object onto the page. Rather than say that it’s impossible, or say that you’re terrible at drawing, study why you drew what you did. This is your brain schema, at work. This is the translation of space in the world into products in your hand. Keep practicing. Fix the little wiggles. Notice when you make a simple curve instead of the parabolic curves of the real thing.

Good is the enemy of the great.

(From Jim Collins): Iterate towards great, but also remember that complacency, comfort, and “good enough” are some of the most insidious enemies of making great work.

Being comfortable is not my end goal.

There’s so much joy on the other side of myriad discomforts: freedom, expression, learning, connection – many of these things can come after a bit of leaning into your edge. Yoga poses unlock freedom despite various levels of discomfort held in our joints. The payoff is expansion, self-awareness, reducing pain, and freedom. It’s worth it.

At the same time, understand when you’re pushing too hard, and when to yield to the universe.

When to soften, because the things will arrive in their good time. When to yield to grace, and move without force. Leaning into discomfort is not the same thing as pushing forcefully into all arenas.

Healing, health, and care are critical.

We all work too hard. It’s not about hustling indefinitely, although many folks hustle for decades before getting a break–it’s also about taking the time to heal yourself, help yourself, and be kind to yourself in the present moment. Health is critical. In my pursuit of projects, I’ve often sacrificed wellness in the aim to create great works. I’m softening this, and attempting to learn how to receive rest and healing even amidst the busy-ness.

And when I get back…

When I return, I’ll be hosting a micro-workshop focused on cultivating gratitude and grace in your spirit, life, and daily practices. It will begin on December 1st, and I’ll share the full details when I return. If you’re looking for inspiration to reflect, restore, and to practice more grace and gratitude in your lives, I encourage you to check back in late November for how to join the workshop. It will be delightful.

And as my birthday present:

By the time this post goes live, I’ll be curled up into a sleeping position with my jammies and my hat in an airplane heading forward in time to my destination. I’d love to hear from you while I’m gone, however, in the comments: share with me something–a gift, joy, or grace–that you’re giving to yourself of someone else this week.

How are you taking care of yourself? What gifts of grace can you give to yourself? What does healing look like for you?

With big internet hugs,

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Step Out Of Your Comfort Zone: Why We Should Strive to Die Empty by Todd Henry

Posted on October 24, 2013January 6, 2016 by Sarah K Peck

SWIM OUT TO IT

The cold water shocked my arms and sent a panic message from my limbs to my brain–and my heart.

I was set to make a big swim–a 1.5 mile arc from San Francisco’s Alcatraz Island to Ghirardelli Square, the famed Alcatraz swim. The thing is, I said I would do it naked as part of a bet. It was time to fulfill my end of the bargain.

Sliding off a boat wearing nothing and splashing into sub-sixty degree water was anything but comfortable. The shock of the cold water screamed against my skin, every neuron firing a warning sign in my brain telling me to stop. Swimming naked from Alcatraz was not a good idea. It wasn’t safe, it wasn’t easy, and it certainly wasn’t comfortable.

Pushing past your boundaries into scary, new, difficult–and certainly uncomfortable–places is one of the key rules to unleashing your potential.

I’m inside of another book this week, reading the last pages of Todd Henry’s latest book, Die Empty: Unleash Your Best Work Every Day. The book is a minefield for great ideas on building a life (and body of work) that you’re proud of. From shaping the decisions you make (and recognizing that decisions are powerful, albeit painful), to understanding why mediocrity is so rampant, to listening to your emotions and jealousy as information on areas to improve–it’s taken me a long time to read this book because each of the ideas is sifting and settling in my mind as I try to incorporate them into my life.

What does it take to get uncomfortable?

“To make a valuable contribution, you have to get uncomfortable and embrace lifelong growth and skill development.” –Todd Henry, Die Empty.

You don’t need to strip off all your clothes and jump into a freezing body of murky water to get uncomfortable–although doing so certainly helped a tribe of friends and family pull together $32,398 for charity: water. In your own life, however, getting uncomfortable is critical for growth. For stretching, building, clarifying, and growing.

In “Step Out of Your Comfort Zone,” Todd looks at what he calls “dark rooms” that we like to avoid–places its easier not to go into, because we feel safer outside.

We protect ourselves in the following ways:

We’re afraid of harm — and we take big steps to stay out of harm’s way, but then inadvertently miss all of the good stuff of life
We protect our identity — we want to “live with the illusion of invulnerability” instead of ever risking failure.
We love stability — and “the more there is to protect, the less people are willing to try new things.” We risk losing out on all of the future good by holding on too tightly to what’s around us. (This is why good is often the enemy of the great).
Our ego wants control — and so even when we’ve made poor choices, we want to stand by our ego and our decision for fear of being wrong.

Why should we bother getting uncomfortable? Because growth is messy and uncomfortable.

“Growth is painful, messy, and very uncomfortable, and occurs only when we are willing to stretch ourselves in order to accept new challenges.” — Todd Henry.

Back in the open water, the salty cold bay water bit into my mind and the chill seared my body in places that were normally protected by fabric. I was crazy to be doing this, wasn’t I?

I pushed my arms the way I’d trained for decades, and stroked to the edge of the island. I touched it, standing, nude, shivering in the early morning fog. I splashed quickly back in the water and put my face down. Great stories aren’t made sitting on the sidelines, or curling up on the couch.

It was time to swim.

The hidden power of doing interviews (and how to get better at them).

Posted on October 22, 2013October 22, 2013 by Sarah K Peck

New York Building Fronts

I used to hate interviews. I stammered, I inserted words such as “like” and “um” a whole bunch, and my voice pitched up at the end of nearly every sentence.

I sounded exactly like what I was—a young 20-something female with insecurity about my ideas.

Then I started listening to the interviews and analyzing them. I paid attention to everything—from the sound of my voice, to the way it pitched up, to my breathing, looking at the construction of sentences, and trying to understand the moments when it felt like I got insecure versus when I was the strongest and most confident.

Each time, I focused on something I could improve. My voice lowered, which made me sound more confident and also feel more confident. I slowed down. I added more breath, which built calm. I layered back in some room to giggle and rush through my words, because when I get excited I speed up—and I like that authenticity. It also occurred to me that I like doing interviews at a particular time of day—early afternoon, when I’m starting to feel very chatty and I want to talk to people. I started scheduling them for times that fit well with my brain schedule.

Getting better at interviews.

To get better at interviews, and presentations—the best way is to do them over and over again.

Grab a friend (or a video) and set yourself up with a mock interview. Chat for twenty minutes. Share your ideas. Let yourself ramble. Then, watch the tape. Ask for feedback. Where were you your best? What made you shine? What parts could improve? Work out each of the little stumbles until you feel comfortable with the sequence of changes.

Find out what makes you feel good. Set up a room, an environment, a location that you love. Maybe you scout out the person beforehand. Maybe you have your favorite cup of coffee–and your favorite glass of wine before hand. Maybe you need to warm-up to conversation with a trusted friend before you start.

Perhaps you write out ideas in advance so you have a cue sheet or you’ve done some advance thinking. I like to ask my interviewer for a general topic list and sample questions so I know what area(s) we’ll be chatting about. Sometimes I’ll write out an essay answer the night before to the questions–and while I won’t read it out loud the next day (it sounds terrible on tape, FYI), just the act of doing the thinking helps set me up for good stuff later.

Learn to love the process: self-reflection and being able to identify how to make changes is powerful.

Why I love interviews.

Now, somewhat surprisingly, I actually enjoy listening to the interviews I get to do.

Beyond the technical considerations and feedback, it becomes a place to test ideas and learn from the medium of voice. For some reason, the way I explain things out loud is different than in print—and so the spoken word becomes a place for me to learn more about my thoughts.

Listening to interviews is a chance to mine your mind for thoughts and ideas, and write out some of the ways you construct sentences, thoughts, and observations. You can pay attention to when you get excited, where you stumble, what you get frustrated or stumped by, and what comes easily to you.

A good interviewer will ask thought-provoking questions, and often I’ll stumble into a new area of ideas that I haven’t written about yet, yielding juicy content and rich ideas for future essays. I discovered that the ideas we unearthed were seeds waiting to be watered, new ideas to plant. I still love writing far more than I love interviews. I prefer to be alone, with my thoughts and ideas, sharing my brain through this pen-and-paper medium. When you read my posts and my books, you get my brain.

But interviews can be potent sources of discovery and idea generation.

This week, I was interviewed by Joel Zaslosfky over on the Value of Simple podcast. We talk about identity, how difficult it is to define yourself and what you do, the drawbacks of storytelling, and the power of addiction in both positive and negative terms. If you have a half an hour today, download it and take a listen and let me know what you think.

What to write about when you don’t know what to write about.

Posted on October 17, 2013October 17, 2013 by Sarah K Peck

Building Walls in Brooklyn

What do you do when you don’t know what to write about?

When you’re stuck or worried or wondering what to say next, write anyways.

Write about things that no one is talking about.

Write about the things that are whispering in your ear, that seem strange, or that seem off, somehow. Write about the things you’re not sure if you should say. Tell the stories you haven’t told yet. Say it anyway.

Write about what makes you angry, or what seems paradoxical.

Write about how the New York Times keeps writing about how we should get more sleep, eat less sugar, drink less coffee, walk more, and that sitting is dangerous – and yet what if the people who write the pieces are still living sugar-filled, caffeinated, stationary lives? What does it take to actually enact habit change, or motivate change?

Write about how Fast Company talks about digital sabbaticals yet never seems to stop posting on the damn internet. I feel like I’m drowning in Fast Company Facebook Posts. It’s like FastBook, except it’s going too fast for me and I want to slow down. Maybe Fast Company can take a digital sabbatical and save the rest of us a day. Less FOMO, more JOMO.

Write about how the deluge of life coaches means something significant (maybe that we really are all screwed up?) or that maybe we’re in an ever-increasing flood of informational internet opportunities that’s just a fancy pyramid scheme in disguise (do I believe this? I don’t know); or, alternatively and more optimistically, that the idea of a life coach is indicative of a culture that has lost something. Write about a culture that has forgotten how to describe the value of people of immense wisdom, of mentors, of friends, of age, and of colleagues who give us the increasingly scarcest resource of all–ample time and thoughtfulness and attention.

Or perhaps–and you should write about this, or maybe I should, we’ll see–maybe it means that we’re a culture devoid of meaning, that we’ve lost the rituals, practices, habits, and deeper connectivity to the earth and to our own spirituality (to God, to the universe, to anything). Talk about how our post-enlightenment love affair with science has led us so far astray from the knowledge and wisdom we’ve had for thousands and thousands of years (the yogis emphasized the importance of meditation five thousand years ago; the scientific papers are just beginning to understand why this is true). Perhaps religion and science are hand-in-hand, and both will make the other stronger, as each catches up with the other (and more importantly, acknowledges the other).

Write about why we search for a reason and an understanding for who we are. Write about why we seek to understand why we’re doing what we’re doing.

Write about what it’s like to be curious.

Write about what it’s like to see. Capture the world in words, as best you can. Really write it out–the details and nuances and intricacies of where you are, and who you are, right now.

Write about how digital technology and interconnectedness is changing us, and what you think the future of the internet is.

Speculate on the future of public space, and whether or not democracy and digital connectedness are serving us.

Write about problems around the world that we collectively ignore because the hip gyrations of a young teen is more mesmerizing than the assassination of twelve human lives.

Write about how the next $500 ebook or self-guided course isn’t going to get you where you want if you don’t actually read it. Wonder why people buy things and still don’t take action.

Write about how fucking mad you are, and your inside feelings that you’ve been locking up for years.

Write about what it’s like to be you, and what makes you angry, and what makes you blissfully happy. Write about the tools you use to numb yourself, because we all try desperately to avoid sadness and misery, and we stuff ourselves with caffeine, sugar, stimulation, pot, television, phones, and other instant-pieces that fill our minds with avoidance. Write about the things we do to numb us from actually feeling.

Admit that you have a body, that you have a soul, that you’re damn depressed and the reason for that is because you actually believe you’re capable of a lot more–and you haven’t figured out how to make the magic happen yet.

Write about what it’s like to be one single individual cell within your body, a particle so small it’s incomprehensible; yet it’s dependent on the air you breathe and water you give it to pulse and beat and carry out its marching orders.

Write about what it’s like to be you, here, and now.

Write about what you feel, and have an honest conversation with yourself about it. Crack the vulnerability open a little bit. Watch for the flood gates. Let the floods come. Have some fucking feelings, and roll around with them. Discover your desires. Write them in big bold beautiful ink on the insides of your body (or the outsides) and on the walls of your living space and in the margins and pages of your notebooks.

Write about the fact that we have no walls anymore or natural barriers to say no, and so we’re constantly flooded with requests that make us anxious, tired and depressed.

Write about what the future will say of Steve Jobs, and how our collective idolization might be washed away if we discover that the advent of the personal and mobile computer–while an exceptional tool for human creativity–also created the unintended consequences of contributing to alarming obesity rates couple and such sedentary humans that our internal IQ’s went down as much as they increased through the information access we enabled.

Wonder about the future of the internet and how it’s changing our lives. Take a piece that someone has written and respond to it, thoughtfully. React. Respond. Listen.

Poke the box. Fuck it, shake it. Stir it. Challenge Seth Godin, give him an essay that makes him think harder, question each of your idols, re-examine your mantras. Think twice about the information you’re given. Disagree and argue. If you construct it well enough, I bet Seth would be fascinated with the conversation you create. You might be wrong. So what? Admit it, and try again.

Think, and then think again.

Write about people who have adrenal fatigue, who are too tired to keep up with work. Write about how an obsession with productivity is wearing down the souls of the people who are trying the hardest; the people we need to continue to be vibrant. Write about what a waste of time email is. Write about how you would do things differently–and then write about how many steps and stumbles it took for you to make it happen.

Write about how your heart bleeds when you hold a tiny infant in your arms because, just for a hot second, the world’s energy moves through your heart center and you feel both restfully still and a live pulsing, and you’re connected through your chakras to a deeper reason for being, and in that bliss, you look at the limitless possibilities in that tiny breathing being and you think,

Damn, that’s perfect, perfect,

and you look at yourself and you think,

what the fuck happened?

###

[ You are still as beautiful, you know. You already are beautiful. You are always capable of beauty. ]

[ You’re perfect, in exactly that messy way that you are. It’s just hiccups and hangups that occupy the world, and get all messy inside your brain space. ]

###

Cultivate Wonder.

Wonder about change, and how it happens. Breathe into the space and creases and pockets of your lungs. Describe what it’s like to be a cell within your body. Touch the sensation of one side of your body, and then the other side. Pause for a moment and detail–in delicious words–the tracing of a finger around the circumference of your body. Close your eyes and imagine where the edges of your humanity are: can you feel them?

Pick an object and tell the story of its life. Talk about what it was before it came into your consciousness, where it was made, and how its life intersects with yours. Wonder where it goes when you toss it flippantly to the side. Consider waste streams and garbage, and capture the movement of things through systems by tracing one item through time.

Write about something that isn’t being said.

If you have a thought, or a joke, or a cranky opinion—and you want to rant, or write, or change the topic—do it.

Write about the things that should be different.

Write a story about a conversation worth having. Write about your experience, and then write about how that connects to larger issues. Write your story. Write about what it’s like to be you.

But for the love of all of it, tell your story, and say what needs to be said.

There’s plenty to write about. Go on, get writing.

What would you bring with you into the woods? Reflection questions on your own fire, the art of creation, the necessity of destruction, and your intrinsic value.

Posted on October 14, 2013October 11, 2013 by Sarah K Peck

Central Park - Autumn - New York City

Central Park by Vivienne Gucwa on NY Through The Lens.

Reflection, rejuvenation, and three questions.

This weekend, I left the city to join one hundred other entrepreneurs, creatives, and innovators to shake off some digital dust and retreat in the Poconos Mountains of Eastern Pennsylvania.

In addition to the typical packing instructions — sleeping bag, flashlight, yoga clothes, comfy fleece, warm sweaters, s’mores — we were also instructed to bring the following three things with us into the woods:

Something you’d like to burn (something you’d like to leave behind);
Something to improve somebody else’s experience;
Something that symbolizes who you are and what you’re passionate about.

Something to burn.

What can you burn, destroy, or get rid of? We all carry things with us–in our hearts, minds, ideas, thoughts, notes, and the physical stuff we carry. My fellow writers are ablaze with instructions towards destruction: it seems to be a theme in many minds. Goddess Kali encourages us to set ablaze what’s holding us back, writes Danielle LaPorte, encouraging us to welcome destruction as part of the act of creation. The theme is beautifully captured in Joseph Campbell’s work on The Hero’s Journey:

Joseph Campbell, on breaking, destruction, and letting go:

The old skin has to be shed before the new one can come.

If we fix on the old, we get stuck. when we hang onto any form, we are in danger of putrefaction. Hell is life drying up. The Hoarder, the one in us that wants to keep, to hold on, must be killed. If we are hanging onto the form now, we’re not going to have the form next.

You can’t make an omelet without breaking eggs.

Destruction before creation.

Out of perfection nothing can be made. Every process involves breaking something up. The earth must be broken to bring forth new life. If the seed does not die, there is no plant.

Bread results from the death of wheat. Life lives on lives. Our own life lives on the acts of other people.If you are lifeworthy, you can take it. What we are really living for is the experience of life, both the pain and the pleasure.

The world is a match for us. We are a match for the world. Opportunities to find deeper powers within ourselves come when life seems most challenging. Negativism to the pain and ferocity of life is negativism to life.

What will I bring? I’ve got a few ideas, but the first that leapt to mind was the “busy” badge I often wear. Busy isn’t good, and not managing my time well isn’t a mode of operation. I want to burn the busy badge, and make time for long lunches, for ample yoga, for walking. The work can take the space and time and shape it takes, and there will be an ebb and flow to it–but busy is not a means to an end.

What about you? What can you destroy, leave behind, or eliminate as we head into Fall and the season of darkness, replenishment, and restoration?

Something to improve someone’s experience.

What do you bring? What do you have to offer? What are the gifts that you bring to share with the world?

I’m packing my yoga mat and my massage hands to help heal and restore. The power of movement, stillness, awakening and connection through our physical bodies is healing.

Something that symbolizes who you are.

How would you characterize who you are? What objects, ideas, or processes encapsulate who you are–or who you’re working to be?

This one’s trickier. I have several ideas, but I’m still mulling it over.

What would you bring if you were headed to the woods and had to bring these three things?

Leave a note in the comments with your answers.

Signing off the internet for a short bit,

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Who We Are: A Profile of Readership of This Blog. (And Four Book Winners!)

Posted on October 11, 2013January 6, 2016 by Sarah K Peck

You and me, we’re the magic of the internet.

Last week I sent out a survey to readers to get a better sense of this community that we’re growing here. We had nearly 200 responses to the survey, and the results are in — Here’s what we look like:

GENDER: Readers are about two thirds female and one-third male: (69% of responders marked female, 31% marked male).

AGE DISTRIBUTION: While I’ve experienced this informally through my interactions in emails and online, it was nice to see it mapped in distribution: we’re a mix of folks of all ages — from recent college grads to new parents, to second- and third-careerists, and many folks grayer and wiser than I am. Here’s the spread:

Under 21: 3%
Age 21-30: 36%
Age 31-40: 25%
Age 41-50: 18%
Age 51-60: 14%
Age 61-70: 5%
Over 70: 0%

Who you are and what you’re working on:

You’re working on: figuring out how to make a living doing something interesting (or rather, something that you actually like–because still so many people are living lives and working jobs that they are miserable in); how to contribute your talents to the world; discovering what those talents are; becoming a better writer or communicator; understanding self-publishing and what it means to talk online; and developing your own businesses or passion projects.

Many people are interested in learning how to live with less as well as how to focus, hone, and refine what it is they really want. You’re interested in knowing methods for de-cluttering; you aspire to simplicity in home and health, and happiness not through more stuff, but through something not yet identified.

For the post-graduates, you’re moving back home with the parents and navigating the new-job world; in the first five years or so, you’re learning, reading, and trying to figure out how to lay out plans to make the most of your 20’s and early 30’s in a combination of excitement and trepidation. Will you make the right decisions? (No, and yes!)

Nearly everyone is learning or doing something new, no matter what age. The common thread between young and old is the desire to pursue more challenging, interesting, and fulfilling (and ultimately, meaningful) projects, businesses, and lives. Whether it’s starting a new business, taking on new clients, starting a new job, or making a shift in your life: you’re talented creatives at the brink of a new endeavor, a place you find yourself in agains and again as you pick up more new projects.

The struggle with this, however, is that while you’re building something on the side, you also have the real challenge of time constraint and competing interests: you’re split between spending time on your current commitments (from your job(s), to your relationships, your debt, etc).

Burnout is a real issue, too (and one I’ll go into more on later this year and early next in some of my upcoming essays): most people are working really hard, and progress is slow at times. Balancing the need to make the change with making time for self-care is critical. How do you know when to work harder and press on (“Make it work!” says Tim Gunn)–and when to yield, slow, rest, and make space?

What’s holding you back:

What holds you back is complicated–for some it’s self-doubt, low self-esteem, stress, and anxiety. It’s the inside voice, the learned voice, or the narratives of our childhoods that we’ve carried into the present. These psychological hang-ups are real, because they are ours and wind their way through everything we do.

For others, it’s simply too many things: too many conflicting demands, too many projects, too much stuff (literally), and not enough time. For us, it’s about re-learning the power of no, setting boundaries, and clearing out clutter. It’s about making choices that enable freedom–not choices that continue to restrict us.

And for others, it’s the business challenges that are holding us back: we have great ideas, but the first iteration isn’t quite there yet. You can’t find the right clients. You’re not sure how to sell. A whole host of people talked about finding the right clients, connecting with the right people, knowing how to offer and price your services, and discovering how to market yourself and your abilities in the changing work and freelance landscape.

What you want more of (how I can be most helpful):

I’ll have to admit, I was having a bit of a day when I went to my google drive and opened up the survey responses (you know, one of those days when everything breaks, you spill tea across your lap, the recording fails). The fact that 200 people responded blew me away — heart flutters, seriously. I hope you know that YOU ARE WONDERFUL. The responses ranged from silly to tearful to just plain inspiring:

Beyond the threads above–the practical, the tactical, the psychological; people said time and time again that the philosophical undertones and the life lessons really caught their attention. Slow, considerate thoughtfulness and questions about meaning, value, and deeper purpose resonated with most of you across the internet and are a core shared interest in this community.

(And for the person who said I should be elected as a public representative so I can offer a platform of support and encouragement… I do like this idea. Perhaps we’ll build it! Together…)

Upcoming: micro-workshops for freedom, gratitude, and inspiration.

I’m working on a few micro-workshops (two weeks) coming up that will be shorter and more affordable starting later this year. Based both on the overwhelming feedback from the survey responses as well as my one-on-one interactions with folks from Pay What You Can Days and in the Writer’s Workshop, I’m designing a module that will be affordable, sweet, and a beautiful community kick-start into topical themes.

The micro-workshops will be specifically designed for folks who want to up the ante on positivity, encouragement, growth, getting started, and motivation; a digital treats of two weeks around specific topics. The first will be coming out in early December, and the next in January. Mark your calendars and get excited about joining us…

And the book winners!

And the book winners! I’m contacting you by email… because so many responses came in, I’m giving away FOUR copies of the books, not two. This time, folks are winning Money: A Love Story by Kate Northrup, and Die Empty, by Todd Henry.

And because it’s the season of pumpkins (my favorite–possibly because it’s the month of my birthday), followed by a season of gratitude and thanks (also my favorite! Okay fine, I just like holidays and celebrating!) I’ll have a few more books to giveaway in the near future, as well, including a copy of Scott Berkun’s latest book, The Year Without Pants, and Mike Rohde’s book, The Sketchnote Handbook.

And as for my book, by and large the responses leaned towards “Do Something” AND “Manipulate the Monkey Brain,” both tied for first. Apparently “getting started” was less liked. Thanks for the feedback.

Now, to get back to writing that book proposal…

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When I hold on too tight…

Posted on October 8, 2013October 8, 2013 by Sarah K Peck

I’ve noticed that when I hold on to things, it doesn’t mean that they get better.

When I held on–and I held on so tight! –the writing didn’t get better, the launch of my newsletter didn’t get any better; it got longer. It almost disappeared into the abyss of doubts and worries, of perfections and neuroses; it almost wasn’t. I had to let go, give it up into the universe, frustrated, annoyed that I hadn’t captured it all, worried that I was saying too much; worried that I was saying too little;

And yet–the newsletter will get better, not in its first instance, not by a long shot; but it gets better because I let the first one go,

Let go into your mailboxes, that is,

And then started building the next one.

Create, make, send, ship, iterate, release, rejoice, build, refresh, create.

Puzzle, ponder, worry, fret, hammer, stammer,

pause,
breathe,

release.

It’s never perfect the first time. (It’s never perfect). My work gets better because I make it, and I move it, and I continue to create.

Chris Brogan reminds us: ship, though, but don’t ship shit. But when you’ve got something, and it’s pretty good, and you hold on too tight? That’s not shipping. That’s stalling. That’s waiting.

People have said this before. Ship, says Seth. Iterate. Make your art. (Real Artists Ship: Steve Jobs). It’s the same thing, learned one dose at a time one body at a time.

Let go.

Stop holding on.

Create, make, refine, release.

Who are you? (+ survey + free book giveaway!)

Posted on October 3, 2013October 3, 2013 by Sarah K Peck

The internet connects us all

The community is growing here!

The community here is growing quite a bit, and it’s exciting to meet many of the new faces becoming part of this tribe of readers. Long-time readers that have been here since the onset might see more and more faces pepper the comments; in addition, I get to work with many of you one-on-one through coaching and the workshops. Yet I’ve been struggling lately to keep up with emails and comments lately (although I still try to read all of them)! This past month alone, we grew again by nearly 20%–adding hundreds of subscribers to the blog, with thousands of people now part of our community.

Thank you for being here. The people I get to meet because of writing online has been incredible.

Your quick help: please take a short survey! (and enter to win a book)

We have hundreds of new faces joining us, and to continue to grow this community and write useful posts, I’d love for your help. Here’s a 2-minute survey that’s quick and easy–tell me a bit about where you are and what you’re working on. It’s anonymous if you’d like to be, but I’ll publish the aggregate results to my newsletter this month and tell you more about the community that’s forming here.

Take the survey, here.

In addition to learning more about you and what you’re working on, I am in the process of writing a book proposal — and I want it to be a book that you’re going to love. I have three pitches I’m crafting at the moment, and I’m refining them. Tell me what you like, and what you’d love to read next.

Take the survey, win a book!

As a thank you to everyone who takes the survey, I’m giving away a copy of two of my favorite new books that I’ve read this past year and absolutely loved. I’ll be sending two lucky readers a copy of one of the following books: Money: A Love Story, by Kate Northrup; or Die Empty: Unleash Your Best Work Everyday, by Todd Henry.

Thanks for being here.

You, on the other side of the internet–you fascinate me. Where did you come from? Where are you reading? What is your life like? Are you working double days in the Philippines, as one woman wrote to me? Are you a mother of two in Australia, teaching your children and learning online from everything you can absorb? Are you the CEO of a large company that manages hundreds of people? Are you a new entrepreneur or post-collegiate twenty-something, looking to find a passion and a purpose in the work that you’re building?

Yes, all of you. Thank you for being here. It’s the connection through the wires that makes the internet so magical.

With gratitude,

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“You can have everything you want.” But also: “You will never be enough.” Two cultural themes that need to be reconfigured.

Posted on September 30, 2013September 30, 2013 by Sarah K Peck

You can have everything you want, and you will never be enough.

Ouch.

I keep running my head in into two cultural mindsets that I think have negative consequences in American culture (this is not necessarily true everywhere. The French, for example, don’t necessarily subscribe to the American parenting ideal of praising a kid for everything they do). But within this culture, there are a couple of paradigms that run fluidly through our consciousness and are worth paying attention to.These ideas pervade our mental space, our advertising space, our urgency, and our need for more–perhaps even our inability to say no. And I just think they are terribly wrong–and bad for us.

The first paradigm: “you can have anything you want.”

The idea that you can do whatever you want, become whoever you want, and have everything you want is an ambition and idea taught to Millennials and Generation Y from the moment they’re given matching sets of toddling shoes and oodles of fresh diapers and socks.

This idea that you can do, be or have anything you want. Do you agree? Is this true? Can you really be anything you want? Can you have everything?

But Sarah, you might gasp–don’t tell me that I won’t get what I want! That’s a terrible idea! How could you say such a thing?

It’s complicated. You can try and place your energy in however many spaces you can get your hands on. But for many people, they won’t reach their dreams. Their jobs won’t fulfill their passions. They’ll be taken on other journeys or life trajectories that are entirely different than what might be expected.

Regardless of the outcome on this debate–perhaps yes, you can have whatever you want–the corollary is what’s interesting to me right now. If you truly can have whatever you want (or so the cultural teaching goes), then it follows that we don’t have to make decisions because we can have it all, and we don’t have to learn how to say no, because it’s easier to say yes to things.

The consequence of the assumption that you can have everything you want is that you may be disappointed. Often.

Learning how to say no, how to decide, how to choose, and how to get to your own heart center is critical. Interestingly, if you really examine this assumption–I’m not sure that many people actually want to have everything. Happiness isn’t about things and ownership and millions of dollar bills. Wealth is about freedom and having enough or just exactly what you want. Regardless of the outcome of this debate, one consequence of this assumption is that we don’t get taught how to decide. How to say no.

Is the flip side of being taught you can have everything you want failing to teach us how to make decisions? Does this make prioritization and deciding impossible?

The second: “You will never be enough.”

Oof. Ouch, that doesn’t feel good either, does it?

Yet look for it. There seems to be a cultural construction or ideal that you will never be enough. This idea pervades–you will never have enough, and you will never be enough. This culture of scarcity–of not having enough–means that we’re always seeking something to fill us up or fill the void. Hence, we shop like crazy.

Brene Brown identifies this culture of scarcity in several common phrases that we say every single day. When you wake up in the morning, the first thought many people have is:

“I didn’t get enough sleep.”

Not enough. (Why?) Then, we start the work day:

“I don’t have enough time.”

Again, not enough. (Why?) And at the end of the day:

“I didn’t get enough done.”

And again, not enough. (Why?)

We see this from the way we talk about money (“I don’t have enough money”)–and in fact, that’s not a conversation we’re having because we’re too timid to even begin talking about money and scarcity–to our sleep, our time, our lives, and our work.

Why these cultural constructs fail us.

These two cultural constructions–a culture of scarcity (“you are not enough, you don’t have enough,”) and a culture of achievement (“you can be anything you want, you can have everything you want,”)–are they beneficial? How do they serve us, and how do they deceive us?

And worse, does the combination of these two cultural thoughts make us all slightly neurotic? (I can be anything! But shit! I’ll never be enough! But I can have everything! But shit! I’ll never be enough!)

What would a different mindset look like?

Out of curiosity, what if we had a different mantra? What would the opposite construct look like? Perhaps: