Category: Psychology

The masks we wear–how we hide who we are.

Posted on by Sarah K Peck

We all wear masks from time to time: in our words, our habits, and our practices. We have an arsenal of crutches and shortcuts that slowly but surely hide who we are. They are things that prop us up and help us hide. We hide from our feelings and our desires. We hide from who we might become.

We drink coffee as a mask for how tired we are, or to replace what is really a lack of motivation for a certain project we’re involved in.

It masks how tired you are of caring for a newborn infant, or how miserable your boss’s cutting remarks make you.

The alcohol that you drink at night masks the fear and the stress feel from not having control during your day. Perhaps it helps to cover up the loneliness of your cubicle or help you get  through another night.

We project false smiles of protection to hide our fears, to be desirable. We wear high heels and new clothes and carry certain bags and advertisements to show a sense of self, a projection, an idea. We use extroversion to be well liked. We chase busy to mask our fear of not leaving an impact.

We cover a lot of things up. Scars we carry, stories we hold, work we’re afraid of doing.

Our selves, deep inside.

It’s not always bad to have a mask…

It’s not terrible to have masks, but they can’t be our only way of dealing with the world. If we spend the entire time warding off the world and hiding from ourselves, we’ll miss the best parts. By hiding from the world, we hide ourselves, and we lose a piece of our souls.

Many of us have lost touch with ourselves, our souls, with the tender, tired, scared part of itself.

Here’s the catch…

Releasing a mask requires feeling. It requires having a real, honest, scary, less-than-desirable feeling. Letting go of your mask means you might need to say,

By golly, I’m tired.

And no, I don’t want to do this.

Or, I’m scared. I’m scared of messing up. I’m scared of doing a bad job. I’m worried that I won’t be liked. I’m worried that I might try and I won’t be good at it.

Letting the barrier down requires Guts. Honesty. Softness.

Looking at the impulse before we rush to snatch a cover, and breathing in recognition:

Your feelings are clues.

These feelings inside? They aren’t enemies. They are clues. Feelings are way points in an uncertain world, direction markers that guide us back into the brilliance of ourselves, if we’ll allow it. The trouble is it can be uncomfortable and downright painful. Feelings you haven’t had in years might surface to remind you of areas of internal work you still have to do.

And your masks were protection, once.

The masks aren’t all bad. Sometimes pulling down the mask and showing your face requires gentleness and slowness. Your mask might have served you at some point. A therapist in my yoga training reminded me that these coping mechanisms shouldn’t always be disarmed quickly. Children of abuse who learned how to harden and deaden their senses built masks in order to survive those times. These mechanisms and masks were useful–they helped you survive. They got you here. They protected. Unlocking them too quickly without new ways of being can also be damaging.

But at some point, perhaps you might notice you’re still wearing one.

What masks are you wearing?

What masks do you carry?

What do you hide?

Can you lower it for a bit?

With love,

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Looking for a place of love and kindness? Join our upcoming Grace & Gratitude micro-workshop, a two-week journey to cultivate grace and gratitude in your life. Two weeks of daily stories and exercises designed to bring light, love, and joy into your life–one photograph, project, and quote at a time. Sign up here (or give as a gift this holiday). We begin December 1. 

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

Posted on by Sarah K Peck

Eagle and strength, mural, Brooklyn

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:

You are enough.

You already have everything you need.

There is nothing in this world that you need to own or acquire to make your life better.

You are enough.

This here, this is enough.

Hmmm…

How do you find the people that are right for you? Hint: it’s all about energy.

Posted on by Sarah K Peck

PeopleFactor_Sketch_SarahPeck 07-2011

Two years ago, I met Todd Henry at South by South West, and we got to walking and chatting between throngs of crowded sidewalks and the craziness of tech events. While walking, I remember him clearly outlining his ideas, his creative process, and his vision for the projects that were coming next. I’m so excited because today, September 26th, his next book, “Die Empty,” is finally live, and it’s all about creating your best work in the world. I’ll be doing a full review of the book in the coming weeks, but for now I wanted to share a gem that I previously shared with Accidental Creative–and it’s all about energy, people, and matching up personalities. 

The people factor: it’s all about energy.

Ever been at a party and felt like you were completely exhausted? That you couldn’t stand to keep your eyes open for another minute, even though it was supposed to be an amazing party?

Likewise, have you ever stayed up almost all night, focused and driven, surrounded by brilliant people and creative ideas?

Energy comes in limited quantities. It is finite, it waxes and wanes, and it grows or diminishes based on what you are doing and who you are surrounded with. What dictates our energy? How do we capture these spaces that help us be amazing, and remove the events and things that deplete our energy?

There are people, places and things that make me feel like I’m building my energy stores, that rejuvenate me, and help me to do my best work. Likewise, there are also people and places that zap my energy; that leave me exhausted; that make me feel as though I’ve waste my time and my energy – and my day – without getting anything useful done.

While brainstorming in a coffee shop with a dear friend, we both asked each other how to deal with these different personality types as they come into our lives. People are exceptional – they are our number one resource – but not all people are helpful at any given project or time.

How do you make decisions about how you spend your time – and who you hang out with? And more importantly, how do you say no to people and things that zap your energy reserves?

Together, we made a map of the different types of people in our lives, and agreed that we would consciously try to say no to hanging out with people that didn’t help us in our long-term goals – or in our energy management.

This system isn’t just about eliminating “Negative Nancys” and “Debbie Downers” (although every effort should be made to reduce their presence in your life, and to come up with phrases that don’t disparage the great Nancy’s and Debbie’s in the world!).

Understanding how people affect you means that you can do a better job matching what you need at any given moment to what your energy requires. Sometimes I don’t need to be around excited people. Sometimes I just need another balanced philosopher to do and create my best work.

And sometimes I need to be more judicious about reducing the time I spend with people who don’t match my energy.

On the energy spectrum, here are the ranges of personality types – from high, positive energy, to balanced and stable individuals, to strong negative energy.

Do you identify with any of the following energy personality types? How do you bring these different personas into your world? And do you pay attention to how people make you feel?

The Positives

  • Buzzers. These are my excited electrons. People who are so thrilled to be around other people and in the world, talking with them is like getting a burst of inspiration. When I wake up in the morning, a phone call with them is better than coffee. They are my muses, my inspirations, my creatives. Like coffee, however, I can’t drink it nonstop each day – so they are better in quantifiable bursts.
  • Happys. Generally positive, seem to be happy almost all the time. People you would skip with, laugh with, enjoy being with. I have lots of these in my life. They aren’t as physically excited as the Buzzers, but they are generally happy and have a positive attitude about most things.
  • Wonder Listeners. People who can hear what you are saying without you saying it; who seem to listen to you with both their bodies and their ears, and who exude a positive radiance without necessarily saying or doing anything, are your Wonder Listeners. After hanging out with one of these, I leave feeling happy, excited, and inspired.
  • Coaches and Mentors. These are people who seem to have endless stores of hope and inspiration designed just for you. People who are genuinely interested in what you have to offer and how you are doing. The coaches and mentors are usually a check-in, once a week or once a month, and they offer their advice and wisdom to you in their interactions.

The Middle Balance (Balancers and Grounders)

  • Quiet Stabilizers. People who are refreshing, rejuvenating, and inspiring without being showy or ostentatious. Someone you can sit quietly in a park with, without talking very much, and leave happier. These people don’t toot their own horn, and likely don’t know how cool they are. Yet being around them is satiating, relaxing, restorative.
  • Feedbacks. People who tell you what you need to hear, not necessarily what you want to hear. These people can be mistakenly labeled as negatives, but they still have your best interests in heart and are actually looking out for you in the long run. They come from a place of love. Keep them around, but note the times when you aren’t up for receiving feedback and need encouragement instead – and seek them out when you need smart advice.
  • The Strugglers and Changers. There are people who are struggling, working towards change, and are sometimes frustrated or caught in-betweens. They are on their way towards becoming the person they want to be, and conversations with them are raw, open, inspiring, hard, and generally variable. These are my strongest friends, the people who open my eyes and listen to my shared experiences as well. We learn well together. To note, however, sometimes I don’t have enough energy to devote to these conversations, and it’s best to say no or time this date for when I have enough energy or bandwidth to devote.

Negatives

  • The Repetitives and Non-Changers. People who are stuck in a problem that you’ve listened to for years. Their complaints are the same, over and over again, and they don’t bring anything new to the table. Each time, it feels like you’re stuck in déjà-vu, because you’re still talking about how to deal with their terrible relationships, bad work situation, or general malaise. To deal with these types, tell them, politely and firmly, that you don’t want to talk about their ____ problem anymore. “I appreciate all the struggles you are having with your job situation, but I’d like to not talk about that anymore. I know you are working hard on it. Let’s focus and talk about new things when we meet.” Sometimes by setting a clear boundary about your relationship and expectations even helps the other person by not letting them use you as a place to rehash the rut–and encourages them to take action.
  • The Fakes. There are people who masquerade as positives – the words they use are cheery, they tell you what they think you want to hear; they quote inspirational things and bits. But the substance is not there. And, more importantly, (and this is critical) you are not rejuvenated by the words or the ideas in the way you are around Quiet Wonders or Listeners or Buzzers. Some people are obviously fake; others not so obviously. At the end of the day, what’s most important is how you respond when you’re around them.
  • Negative Influences. There are people who are wonderful, interesting, bright, and creative. And yet, for some reason, I am negatively influenced when I am around them. It’s not that they themselves are bad people – it’s that I make bad choices when I’m around them. For some reason or another, hanging out with them is not conducive to my success. These are the trickiest people to identify, because there’s nothing about them that’s bad or easy to rationalize avoiding. It’s how they influence you that tells you about whether or not it’s a good person to have in your life. If your number one goal or dream at the moment is do ____, and being around this person actually hinders your ability to do this (and possibly even makes it harder for you to do in the future, as well), you have to make a choice about your priorities.
  • Toxic. These are the people who make you feel like shutting down when you’re around them. The people that drain you, that zap your energy, that are filled with negativity and cutting remarks. Most of us quickly eliminate these people from our lives after just a few interactions. They are easy to spot and identify. If you still have them around, ask yourself why? What do you benefit from being with a toxic person?

Remember: in each of these scenarios, it’s not about whether the person on the other end is inherently a good or bad person–the most important thing is how each of these personality types make you feel.

It’s not about whether or not the person is a good or bad person – it’s about whether or not they are the right energy type for you.

It’s important to note that not all people can fit neatly into each of these categories – often the dynamic relationships we have with others changes depending on who is interacting and what the objectives are. Sometimes my friends are Buzzing-happy, and other times they are balanced-stabilizers.

Defining these personalities – and how you feel when you’re around different types of energy – has helped me in understanding why I leave feeling out of sorts from some interaction. In turn, it helps me decide what to do – and who I choose to spend time with – in the future.

Relationships matter. Pay attention to how the people around you are making you feel.

Which is your favorite personality type to be around?

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This was originally published on Accidental Creative in 2011. Check out Todd’s newly released book, “Die Empty,” out September 26th, 2013.

The art of asking: 21 ways to ask for what you want and get it.

Posted on by Sarah K Peck

Vulnerable-700

“If you don’t ask, the answer is already no.”

What does it take to ask for what you want—and then get it? There seems to be a magical art behind creating a great ask, and we all know stories of people who seem to get exactly what they want whenever they ask. Magicians who bend and will the world to their ways. Why is this? What are they doing that no one else seems to be doing? How do they ask for what they want and seem to get it every time?

Culturally, it’s not always the norm to ask directly for what you want—or we do a terrible job of it (and women are worse, according to the New York Times). Instead os specifying what we want, we hem and haw about ideas, often walking away from great conversations without clearly articulating our message, what we hope to achieve, and how the other person can directly help us.

Creating a great ask (and learning the ability to say no) are two skills that successful people learn how to do really well. In the past decade, some of the things I’ve asked for and negotiated for include: asking for multiple raises and getting them consistently, negotiating salary bumps of 20% or more (with credit to Ramit Sethi’s persuasion tactics), winning over $50,000 in scholarships (competitions and essays were involved), and recently raised $33,000 for charity: water by promising to swim naked from Alcatraz to San Francisco if we raised enough money.

In addition, I’ve helped clients understand persuasion tactics and develop scripts to ask for what they want, including the delicate art of deciding to do it anyways and asking for forgiveness rather than permission. Several people asked me to collect my notes on how to ask and share them publicly. Here are my top tips for creating a great ask—in order to get more of what you want.

The art of asking for what you want: Part 1: You have to actually ask.

1. First, know what you want. This is an all-too-obvious step that’s often overlooked. Often it’s not always clear to you (or others) what it is, exactly, that you’re in need of. The more clarity you can have about what you want, the better. Take the time to learn, figure out, or discover exactly what you want. Once you know what you want ($1M in funding, a date with a lady, a new bookshelf, a corner grocery store), it’s easier to ask for it.

2. Ground yourself in why you’re doing what you’re doing. Start from the heart center: before I ask others to join or respond, I check in with myself, asking with my heart and mind and body, making sure this is what I want and that it resonates with who I am and what I stand for.

Is this something that I want to do, and want to do deeply? Is this something I stand for and believe in?

If you don’t want it at the center of your core, ask yourself why you’re going after it. If you do want it, ask yourself what you’d be willing to do for this. Much of my work is contingent on confidence and alignment with the programs I’m creating. If and when I draft an email that doesn’t “feel right” or my intuition tells me is coming from a place of loneliness, desperation, or need—I pause on the email and draft it a few other ways.When I circle back and remember why I’m doing what I’m doing, the words come more easily.

Amanda Palmer, in the highly watched (and just as readily criticized) TED talk, speaks of the vulnerability that is required in asking for what you want. To ask for something is human; to want something and ask someone else for itrequires a connection.

“Through the very act of asking people, I connected with them. And when you connect with them, people want to help you. It’s kind of counterintuitive for a lot of artists — they don’t want to ask for things. It’s not easy to ask. … Asking makes you vulnerable.”

— Amanda Palmer, The Art of Asking

3. You have to actually ASK for what you want. It sounds so simple to write this, and almost insanely easy advice. But there are too many people who do not ask for what they want. They’ll tell you a story, email you to say hello, spend hours talking in circles about their idea, hedge and hum about a faint aspect of their idea—and somehow hope amongst all the befuddlement that somehow the other person they are talking to will be able figure out what is is you want and help you solve your problem.

In order to get what you want, you have to ask for it.

4. Be direct, clear, and specific about what you want. Make it ridiculously clear what you’re asking for. Be direct about what you want, who it’s from, and when you need it, and what a desired outcome looks like. The more specific and direct you can be, the better.

  • Define the problem. What are you trying to solve?
  • Specify what it is, exactly, that you want. What materials, processes, steps, pieces, or people are involved to solve it? Is this made abundantly clear–and easier to read than an IKEA assembly manual?
  • Outline how much time, energy, money, or commitment you think it will take. Be clear about what the person will have to do to fulfill the request. If it’s a sale, specify when, where, and how they can get what you’re asking them to by. There’s nothing like deciding you want something and realizing that the person who invited you didn’t put a “buy here” button on their website.
  • Be direct. Put the ask up front and early, and again in the close of the message.

5. Be selective and targeted about who you ask. The more specific you can be about WHO you ask, the better. Asking everyone in your network is bound to get you a bunch of silence in our over-connected world, or active unsubscribes and un-follows across your various platforms. It’s better to ask three people who are very well equipped to answer your query than 15 people who aren’t interested at all.

Do not send your email to your entire contact list. People in Boulder have no interest in the program you’re teaching in San Francisco (unless, perhaps, it’s a digital class). The more specific you can get about WHO should be receiving the message, the better. One direct ask that results in a yes is better than asking fifty people who don’t respond (and spamming their inboxes).

This can be far more work than it sounds. When I craft campaign emails and fundraising emails, I’ll sit and pour through my contact database and customize a list of 20, 80, 100, 200, or 300 people that I think would actually be interested in my project and that I feel comfortable emailing. Sometimes I goof and send people too many messages, but thankfully most of my friends and colleagues have been forgiving and kind about the messages I’ve sent (and say no when they want to). I’ll craft 10 different versions of emails to go to small sub-groups of twenty people, each group carefully constructed based on who knows who; what the question is; what the story lead is; and how I’m framing the ask.

6. Use social proof by creating micro-groups and mini-masterminds. When you email a small enough group, the presence of one initial response often prompts others to respond as well—creating the inertia of ongoing conversation rather than having to circle back and bother more people. When I email a group of five people that I highly respect and ask them to join a conversation, I try to include someone that I know is great at responding quickly. This generates an ongoing conversation.

When the group is small enough, the conversation becomes private and personal enough that it’s like a micro-mastermind group with content rich enough to be worth thousands of dollars. Sometimes after an day on a message thread, people have written back to me privately and said, “this advice is worth gold—thank you so much for including me in this group. I learned so much!”

An example that stitches these all together:

A while ago I ran into a problem with a particular type of client that I was having trouble closing—and instead I ended up spending weeks in back-and-forth emails continuing to describe the product instead of making the sale (and ideally directing my correspondent to a solution to his problem). I couldn’t figure out if this was a dead-end lead, or if my writing was generating the excessive conversations.

I thought—why don’t I ask a few of my successful business friends for advice?

I thought closely about who might be a good person to answer the question, directed an email at three people, copied each of them on a single email, and wrote the following request:

A sample script for asking a mini-team of experts for help with a problem:

Dear John, Susie, and Rob:

I hope you’re well. I’m having a pinch point in my client pipeline and I’m looking for some feedback—and I think you’re the perfect person to help me out because I’m pretty sure you’re a pro at dealing with this type of client request in your business.

This email will probably take you about 10-15 minutes to read and respond,and I’d be incredibly grateful for your straight-up advice. I’m predicting that you know exactly how to deal with this problem, which is why I’m contacting each of you.

If any of you are swamped today or in the middle of something that needs your attention, feel free to delete this email or send a quick “so sorry, can’t,” so I know not to bother you again. Ideally, you’ll know a great resource (a book or link) that answers this problem and can think through this quickly with me. Many thanks for your brilliance in advance.

Here’s the situation: … I’d like to come up with a great response that changes the answer I’m getting (below) into an answer that converts into a sale. This email chain below is a typical one for me … (and here you continue to describe the email you get and copy, exactly, the messages you get and the emails you’ve sent previously.)

In summary: when I ask people for help, I select one or a few targeted people to reach out to, I define the problem, outline what I’d like them to help me with or what I’d like them to do for me, and tell them how much time I think it should take, and I give them enough information to make it easy to answer. As a courtesy, I also like to let folks opt-out if they’re in a busy point in their lives.

Art of Asking

Part Two: How many times should you ask?

7. Make sure you ask in multiple ways and in multiple places—show up across multiple platforms customized for different individuals. Every time I launch a program, offering, or class, I make sure to send my “ask” into the universe in a number of different ways.

It’s not enough to create something and wait for people to show up. Both before and after you make your product or offering, you need to invite people to come take a look, to review it, to purchase it, and to see what you have to share. Without asking people to buy your product, it’s like walking into an empty room, filling a keg with beer, and not telling anyone you’ve got beer behind those brick walls. Unless you put a sign on the door, distribute flyers in all the neighborhood mailboxes, and put a sign out front with free beer coupons for the first 100 customers, no one will know that there’s a keg full of delicious goods inside of that brick house.

You need to show up where the people who have what you want are already playing, paying, or talking.

“It’s not enough to create something and wait for people to show up. You need to tell them about it.” (Tweet this!)

Put your offering or request in several (targeted) places. Show up in person, on email, in newsletters, on twitter, on Facebook, and in any other place where people who want what you have—or can give you what you want—already spend time. Further, you’ve got to ask in a number of different ways.

Next, send personalized requests or invitations on a 1:1 basis to people you think would be great early adopters, fans, or supporters. Tell people what you’ve been up to. Start with your own network, no matter how big or small, and ask them to come show up. An email to ten friends and family members asking for support is more meaningful initially than spamming your entire Facebook friend list and showing that you’ve invited 500 people and only 2 of them RSVP’ed.

8. Ask multiple times. Do not be afraid to ask someone more than once for something.

Sometimes I get nervous that I’m repeating myself. Remember that what you hear is not what they hear. The last time that I got nervous that I was talking incessantly about my project for charity: water, I started to get sick of my own voice and assumed everyone else was tired of hearing about the project, too. In reality, you’re only talking to each person once or twice, even though you yourself have had the same conversation hundreds of times. Keep going and remember that each time you ask, the person on the other end may be hearing you for the first or second time only— and every time you ask, you increase your chances of getting what you want.

Additionally, people generally need to see your ideas 4-7 times before they really familiarize themselves with it. Multiple messages are okay. If you send one email and no one responds, you might need to send another message in two weeks’ time, after people have had a chance to see it and hear about it. Just because you are talking about it all the time does not mean that the other person hears or sees everything you’re saying.

It’s okay to ask more than once. I imagine that some folks are scrolling their iPhones while on the toilet, reading in line, and not always ready to act or do something at the moment and place where they receive your message. In a mobile world, people are getting messages while they are already busy—out shopping, eating, running errands, or at work. They want to donate or buy, but forget. Following up with a second ask is certainly fine.

And if you create a great story—and you sweep people up in your project, they will rally behind you and want to know how the campaign is doing, and they want to know when you win. People love a good story. The additional messages aren’t a nuisance if they’re well-crafted—they’re bringing people into the story and along for the ride. Share your enthusiasm with them.

9. Try asking EVERYONE. Push yourself beyond your comfort zone and strike up conversations with strangers. Talk to your taxi cab driver, your bus driver, your school teacher, your yoga instructor. Tell your story like it’s the only story you have. (Note: this differs from targeted asks, above, because you’re not sending a blanket email to everyone that’s non-specific. This time, every person you meet should be someone you can talk to about your project and process, and each person should get a targeted message or a variant of a custom message).

When I was on a mission to raise money for charity: water, I asked my bus driver, my taxi driver, the brunch group, people at my swim, the coffee barista, and every friend I knew to participate. I ended up having one of my Lyft drivers laughing so hard that he gave me cash straight out and volunteered to graffiti-paint my body for the swim.

You. Must. Ask. Everyone.

10. Practice over and over and over again. Every small ask is practicing for a bigger ask. Each email and correspondence is an opportunity to practice. In college, my swim coach set us out on missions to experiment with our psychological edges—and in one experiment, we had to ask for a free lunch. It was awkward. Many people said no. And some people said yes. Each time, we practice asking for unusual things.Ask until you get a yes answer. Learn from each iteration.

11. Follow up. Ask. Do what you say you’re going to do. Say thank you. If you want to stand out, ask for what you want, follow up, and follow through.Most people don’t do this.

Part Three: The psychology of decision making, why touch matters, and considering context.

12. Be audacious. Much like Jia Jiang’s experiment with hundreds of rejections (where he set out to get used to the idea of rejection by asking for ridiculous things), he found that the more he asked, the easier it got to ask for what he wanted. As a bonus? People said yes. He ended up driving a police car, flying a helicopter, and dozens of other crazy adventures simply because he walked up to people and had the audacity to ask.

13. Keep it simple. Put the ask on the table. Make it easy to find. Make your wishes known.

  • Give alternatives if you’d like, but stick to two, maximum three. Sometimes it’s easier for people to say yes to one of two options rather than having to choose between many. Stick to just one or two things.
  • Start with small wins.Ask incrementally for specific, small things. Get a foot in the door. Don’t ask for the big thing until you’ve established rapport, responsibility and demonstrated follow-through with someone.

14. Pay attention to context and surrounding cues. People make decisions based on their physical surroundings–much more than they would probably believe. Of all the senses, touch is one of the most important contextual cues. Researchers think this is because we develop our sense of touch first, as infants. According to The Economist, on decision-making, “research shows that our choices can depend on whether we are holding something heavy or light,” and “it seems our minds take many physical metaphors (such as heavy or light, soft or hard) literally.” Bring someone a warm beverage and have them sit on a hard chair, and see what happens with your negotiation or ask.

15. Ask at the right time: understand how (and when) people make decisions. If you are asking for something complicated and difficult, ask before the well of will-power is depleted. People grow weary of making decisions throughout a days’ time, and make better choices (or are willing to decide at all) in the morning, or when they are fresh (see more on decision fatigue in Psychology Today). In the evening, you’re more likely to get a “no” as a response if the person you’re asking is tired and worn out from a long day. 

16. Be confident in how you ask. Make a statement, hone your pitch, and then put a clear request in at the end.

If it’s a verbal ask, don’t let your voice trail off at the end. Practice body and vocal confidence by standing tall, shoulders back, and with your head up in a controlled, confident stance. If you don’t feel confident about what you’re asking, chances are you need to check in and make sure that you believe in your product or offering, and you need more practice.

This is a great time to fake it until you make it.

17. Master the Pause. When you ask, look the the other person in the eye. And—this is the most important part—then shut the fuck up. Ask, simply, and then wait. Don’t throw a bunch of garbage words into the space between your ask and the person’s response. The waiting part—that silence—is deafening, but critical.

Give people space to consider what you said and respond thoughtfully before jumping in to fill the silent space with more words. Make a simple ask, and wait. Let them make the next move. Much like kissing a guy (or gal) for the first time, the sweet spot is in the pause and the time where the two parties consider each other.

If you speak up too quickly, you can push them into a space of no.

Body language is critical for this step. Assume a positive stance (feet hip-distance apart, casual, standing still);and put your hands in a neutral position (by your sides or with both hands touching in front of you, loosely). Keep your chin up and your heart space open. Smile confidently and look them in the eye.

Too many people shoot themselves in the foot by asking for what they want and then immediately layering in a couched response that assumes the person on the other side doesn’t want what you’re offering.

Assume that the person you’re asking would be delighted to help you, has exactly what you need or wants precisely what you’re offering, and that they’ve just been waiting for you to ask them.

Surprisingly, I’ve had multiple encounters where people write (or say) in response, “Sure! That sounds great—I’ve actually been looking for a writing workshop, thanks for thinking of me,” or “Absolutely, I’d love to help—I know just the right person, want me to set up an introduction?”

Yes, yes I would.

It’s surprising how much we don’t get when we don’t give people the opportunity to help.

An ask is a connection. It’s not about having another person go to great lengths for you. It’s about creating a scenario where someone who wants to give can match with what you want.

“Asking is about connection. Create a space where people can give and you can receive (and vice versa).” (Tweet this!) 

Part Four: Avoid terrible asks, be kind, and make sure you say thank you.

18. Avoid terrible, generic, vague asks.

I say no to many of the requests for coffee and lunch dates that come my way—although not always—largely when I’m not sure if I can be useful or if I already know that I need to dedicate that limited time to my existing projects and processes.

The worst type of ask is when someone says “I’d love to pick your brain and get your (generic) advice—do you have time to have dinner or get together one day?”

This is non-specific, non-limited, non-structured, and I’m not sure what I can help with or how I can be useful. Chances are that I’ve already answered some of the basic questions in one of the hundreds of essays I’ve written before, or that I can recommend a book or a process that can be helpful and easily sent over in a minute—if I knew the nature of their problem. Lastly, I want to know why it is that I, specifically, am useful–what is it about me that can help you more than anyone else?

When I get these emails, my reaction is to run and hide and shout, NO, NO, NO!

Luckily, I don’t say that. Instead, I write back and ask for a bit of clarification. It’s never a problem to ask people to do a bit more work before you help them. Here are two great scripts for saying no—and helping someone focus their ask:

A sample script for saying no to nonspecific requests for your time:

There are two great ways to respond to nonspecific requests for your time:

Question 1: “Can I ask you a quick question over lunch and pick your brain?”

Answer: “If it’s a quick question, send it my way right now and I’ll answer it quickly! If it’s a longer conversation you want to have, my lunch hours are reserved for clients right now, so you can book time with me here [insert link to your consulting page].” (Hat tip to Marie Forleo and Laura Roeder for this gem.)

Question 2: The vague “I need help and I’d love your advice … ” that generally ends with an ellipses “…”

Answer: “Hey–Thanks for your email. The more specific you can be in your question, the easier it will be for me to help you. Would you put together a list of specific questions you’d like to have answered and I’ll see if I can pull together a quick set of resources and links or point you to the right place?”

To be clear: I’m more than happy to answer questions that are specific, clear, and direct. When people email me a question like this:

“Hey Sarah, I loved the book you mentioned at the Writer’s Workshop on Storytelling and the Hero’s Journey, but I forget the name of the title. Mind sending it to me again?”

It’s EASY to answer. In fact, I find these questions so useful that I typically develop resource pages for specific topics (like storytelling), along with a custom ‘Canned Response’ template in my Gmail system so I can just drop a response in an email and fire it over quickly. I love questions that are easy to answer and quick to send over, and create a lot of value for the recipient.

And as a side note: when people ask you questions, it’s a great clue into what people think you’re good at and what services people want your help answering. I’m grateful for all the emails I get because when I take the time to respond to one, it usually generates a blog post (like this one, in fact), where I can develop a list of resources and tools to share with folks. Even bad emails help me write posts about what NOT to do!

19. Make people feel good about helping. Give people space to be kind and helpful. If you’re awkward, they’re awkward. Believe in what you ask for. Let them know how much it means to you and how helpful it was. 

20. Say thank you. You can never, ever say thank you enough.

And the closer:

21. Don’t be afraid of hearing “no.” We’re in a culture that’s afraid to say no, and conversely—we’re afraid to ask other people for what we want because we’re also afraid to hear the word “no.”

There’s one person who says no to you more than anyone else, however. When you don’t ask, you’re already selecting “no” as the outcome. Each time you hold yourself back from asking for what you want, or you walk away, silently, you’ve already given yourself the answer that you’re afraid of.

“If you don’t ask, the answer is already no.” (Tweet this!)

What about you? Do you have great tips and strategies (or examples) for how to create winning asks? Do you have specific templates or copy that help you create great asks? Write them in comments alongside + I’ll add them to the post.

How much should you share with the internet, anyways?

Posted on by Sarah K Peck

Chelsea, New York City, June 2013 (Photo by Sarah Peck)

This is the third in a series of posts about building your voice on the internet and making work that sees the light of day for people who have been wanting to blog, create, make, or write. I host a quarterly writing workshop for people interested in learning more about storytelling and writing. The class will re-open for summer enrollment soon–I’m  currently updating the program and hard at work behind the scenes for the next class, which should be live in July. But first: when you do make something, how do you know if you should share it? 

How do you know if it’s okay to share your personal stories with the big wide internet?

Many of us have stories that are hard to tell to our friends, let alone the public. When is it right to share a story, and when could it get you in trouble? When building an online space or a brand related to you, how do you know if it’s okay to tell your story? If you have dreams and visions for the future that don’t align with your current direction with your employer, how transparent can you be about it?

One problem with writing so much personal stuff is wondering when and how to share it.

When I write, I often wonder whether of not I can share this immediately with other people. Knowing when to take your writing public (and when it’s still something you need to work through in community) is a difficult thing to gauge. When is your story worthy of other people being granted permission to see it?

I often share only about a quarter of the things I’ve written, if not much less, and I make it a rule to only share things that I’m nearly done processing or when I’ve found (or nearly found) resolution to a particular idea. While I write as a means to figure things out, I rarely share things as I’m going through the turmoil itself, for many reasons.

My mind is a fickle, raw and tender place, and I’m not always ready to put that space out into the world for judgment–nor is this beneficial to me as a person. I often need to discover my own thoughts and ideas before I can bring them to light with a larger audience.

When I’m working through an idea or a problem that’s raw and tender to me, I guard it closely and give it only to trusted people who I think can cradle my idea (and my heart) with enough tender kindness to assist my in my journey of discovery; each added circle is an extended level of intimacy that is granted permission to care about my heart as much as I do.

I don’t share the things that feel too scary or uncomfortable or too present; those I keep only within an inner circle of close companions and friends, expanding the circle as I get feedback and confidence and resolution in the particular process. Brene Brown articulates her thoughts around this beautifully, and I adhere to similar philosophies. As Brene Brown writes:

“Vulnerability is about sharing our feelings and our experiences with people who have earned the right to hear them.” 

As we circle into the places of darkness and respect the struggles that make us human, remember these boundaries, excerpted from “Daring Greatly” by Brene Brown:

“I don’t tell stories or share vulnerabilities with the public until I’ve worked through them with the people I love. I have my own boundaries around what I share and what I don’t share and I stay mindful of my intentions.”

“First, I only share stories or experiences that I’ve worked through and feel that I can share from solid ground. I don’t share what I call “intimate” stories and I don’t share stories that are fresh wounds. [Second], I follow the rule that I learned in my graduate social work training. Sharing yourself to teach or move a process forward can be healthy and effective, but disclosing information as a way to work through your personal stuff is inappropriate and unethical. Last, I only share when I have no unmet needs that I’m trying to fill.”

Learning these boundaries and rules can be difficult as a new writer, especially in the age of the internet where everything is recorded and visible by anyone. I’ve had my moments when I have essays up in public forums, presentations to give to large audiences, and a professional demeanor to uphold—and while the public world churns along (or dissects my teenage and past angst), I maintain a separation between the events of past and the current events that might dominate my emotional landscape.

Several years ago, during the worst of my breakup with my ex-fiance, I would come home late at night after work, let go of the armor that got me through the day, and quite literally crawl in through the garage to curl up on the carpet alone to the temporary bed I was sleeping on. The shaggy carpet smelled of stale cat and the room shook with the heat of the dryer adjacent to my tiny room. I would lie stone flat on the ground, staring up at the ceiling in such pain that I thought I could never eat again. I had a total of four outfits I could bear wearing, and I slept for days in the same outfit. I couldn’t find a way to eat, think, or cry, and I called my sister just to hear her talk to me on the other end of the line. I didn’t know what to do; and still, despite an inclination that wanted to paint the story across the social web and internet world, I knew that I couldn’t. I didn’t talk about much of this for well over a year, until I’d sobbed my way through my sister’s Kleenex boxes and worked closely with a therapist to help move through the hurt.

I remember the day that I finally shared the story, talked about and opened up to what I’d been through—and I found deep connection and soul-sisters across the internet who reached out and said, “I know. I’ve been there. And thank you, for sharing.” It was only after I’d found the ways to heal that I was able to share my story and learn from it. And like many of the painful moments we each go through, I know (now, at least), how much of my resilience and growth came through these experiences.

Writing is first about creating a relationship with yourself and then about sharing the stories. I use writing to discover and work through my emotions—capturing and recording the raw states of being, storing them in a place to revisit and reconnect with later—but the stories I publish related to emotional wounds are often long healed or well on the way towards healing.

A good rule of thumb to ask is “does this make me feel anything still?” If you’re still feeling pain or angst, or hoping for a response from others, consider keeping it in a smaller circle for now, or holding on to it until later. Likewise, if there’s a response that might be hurtful—and by this I mean if someone could read this and do something that would hurt your feelings—also consider that you might not be ready to share the piece just yet. Protect yourself, and take care of your heart. You always come first, no matter what. Sharing is second, and can be metered out to those closest to us and only later to larger audiences.

In the name of vulnerability, sharing is important. But in the world of the internet, it’s also good to be cautious about where you share and what you share, and keep it close to yourself at first.

Writing is first a journey into your own mind, and remembering to respect yourself and your soul is critical. Share everything with yourself. Put your words down, write your heart out, and keep that journal flush with ideas. This is your place, your soul, yourself. Part one of the week on persuasion is developing an authentic relationship with yourself. Learn how to listen to your ideas, how to applaud them, how to shape them, how to let them take the form that they want—as stubborn as they may seem at times.

First drafts are okay. You are not the Messiah, and your message is not going to be perfect. You can write first drafts, second drafts, and third drafts. This can be a work in progress. You are allowed to edit–in fact, you are allowed to change your mind! You can write later, “I wrote this a while back, and now I think this.”

Make mistakes. (And you can ask for forgiveness). If you make a mistake, you can take action to fix it. Don’t hold back from something because you’re worried about outcomes that are not yet real. Dive into them and make a lot of mistakes. (That’s actually the better outcome).

Start small. If you write a post and no one shows up, it’s because you didn’t invite them to the party. Write something and then share it with a couple of people that you think would actually be a good audience for it. Write them a personal message and say that you wrote something. (“Hey Susan! I wrote this essay and I’m wondering if you have time to read it and tell me what you think! Ideas, comments, general feedback is perfect. I’m new to this and just starting to share my ideas. Thank you!”). 

What about if you over-share? Remember, we live and learn. Don’t admonish yourself too harshly for oversharing. We can ask for permission (if you let the cat out of the bag about your future dreams and your employer lets you go, perhaps the universe was giving you a gentle shove). You can recover from most things and ask for forgiveness in places of error.

But my general rule is to write it out in my journals first, develop stories that are publicly share-able (usually a fraction of the writing that I do) and then tell the stories that help the message when the time is right. Much of the writing is for me (discovering, learning, processing), and many of the experiences become useful stories later.

What rules do you have for sharing yourself with the internet world? Have you ever been afraid to share something, and if so, what is the number one thing that’s holding you back?

AND–if you’d like, share a piece of your work in the comments below! There are lovely people who read this blog. Share away!

With love as always,

sarah signature

Are You Too In Love With A Dream to Make It Real?

Posted on by Sarah K Peck

Where does your mind go when you daydream?

That big dream, that thing in your mind–the really big one. Yes, that one.

What’s your big, scary, hairy, crazy, totally unrealistic dream? The one you wish for fervently and find yourself thinking about on and off while wandering?

Have you thought about making it real? Making it actually, seriously, part of your life?

Taking a dream to reality is risky.

It requires the real risk of failure and discovering whether or not you’re capable of what you believe. Whether or not you can actually accomplish all of the steps towards making it real. Whether or not you’re willing to do the work and go through the (sometimes painful) process of getting it to real.

Attempting to make a dream come true is a reality check. The possibility if a different reality is painful. It is quite possible that along the way towards going after your dream, you find out that you won’t get there. It’s too late. The pieces didn’t work. You don’t make it.

Behind the course of taking a dream to life is a possibility of not getting there.

To protect ourselves, we cling to the dream. We stay behind, saying wistfully to ourselves and others the story of the dream, but we don’t chase the dream itself.

Our words start to sound familiar. We tell stories that sound like were going to so that or we could have done that…

To take steps towards your dream requires uncertainty courage, bravery. You might discover that your dream window has expired. You might discover that you’re no longer in love with the fantasy you created. You might discover that the person you were has changed.

Taking the journey will change you. Taking the journey is unpredictable, uncertain, and scary.

You will emerge a different person. Your solace is that the other side of this today is a new place, and we are creatures that require change to grow.

And what if it does work out? What if your wildest dreams actually could come true?

Would you have the courage to go free them?

Or are you enjoying the dream more?

Bravery

Posted on by Sarah K Peck

IMG_8498

Bravery.

Bravery is showing up.

Bravery is saying what you believe in. Out loud. To the people who need to hear it. Even if that person is you. 

It’s having honest communication with your self, your teams, your communities.

Bravery is saying no when you know you need to. It’s saying no to the wrong things so that you can say yes to the right things.

Bravery is having the courage to quit when you know you’re on the wrong track, even if hundreds of thousands of people are headed in one direction. It’s knowing when the path you are on isn’t the one for you. It’s taking that scary leap, swimming upstream, or wandering down unfamiliar trails.

Bravery isn’t fun, macho, or full of gusto. It’s not always done in one big sweep.

Bravery is all the heroes in Boston, visible and invisible, local and global. 

Bravery is having the courage to stand out on social media and remind people to collect the dots, not connect them too early.

Bravery is saying something different and showing empathy for our peers around the world. It’s not jumping to conclusions too quickly. It’s remembering what we stand for and believing in the best of us.

Sometimes bravery is remarkable, unfathomable courage by the youngest and oldest of human souls who rush forward to help everyone and put their lives on the line to save others. The runners in Boston who kept running to the hospital to donate blood were Remarkable. Beautiful. Stunning. Incredible.

Other times bravery is calm, methodical. Sometimes it looks quite peaceful. Sometimes it’s shaking off the noise and clamor and distraction and realizing with simple focus that your next steps require you to take those steps and walking forward is the best and happiest way forward.

Bravery might not be visible to anyone else at the time that you’re being brave. Bravery might be broadcast on national television (but that’s not the point).

It’s showing up, little by little. 

It’s putting yourself out there, even if “out there” is pushing past your own mental barriers.

It’s deciding that now is a better time than later.

Bravery is bravery, even if it doesn’t look that remarkable to anyone else. You are still brave.

It’s continuing to press on, even when your stomach drops in fear, your hands shake in nerves, and you collect sweat in your armpits faster than fog droplets in a San Francisco “summer” day. It’s taking a step forward in the midst of whirlwind gusts of wind and shouting into the windstorm, I’ve got this, dammit! I’m still going to do it! I have to! 

My soul tells me I have to do this, and I have to listen.

Start small. (It’s okay to start with a bang, too, but small is still very brave).

Watch for the mental overwhelm, and give yourself kindness and space to freak the heck out (although maybe not publicly just yet).

Be very kind to yourself.

And also, remember,

in your quest for bravery:

In order to do something new, you often have to let go of something old.

The trouble with starting something is that it requires a different behavior than what you did before.

We are creatures of habit, yes, but we are also creatures of continuous change.

Spring is the perfect time for creative bursting, for unfolding, for the skin-shedding, cocoon-bursting metamorphosis that transforms you towards your next self.

The world is waiting for you to grow into the next version of you. 

Bravery doesn’t always feel like bravery.

It can feel like whirl-wind, mind-bending, all-changing upset, filled with unpredictable whims and whammies, stomach upset and nervous twitters, body aches, starts and stops, trial and error, and a whole lot of messy.

Sometimes bravery feels nauseating, overwhelming, scary, and downright hard.

It’s still brave.

 

A little insider’s story–my story:

When I opened the doors and launched my writing class last week, I was terrified. This was my brain:

What if I wasn’t ready? What if no one showed up? What if nothing worked? What if this dream of mine, that I’ve been working and crafting and creating for so many months past, resulting in a big giant internet wall of silence? 

Intellectually, I know that I can do this. I’ve been ready to do this for years. I’ve taught workshop after workshop and coached folks for years. I have a chart on my wall of the things I’m leaning towards this year, and the one big thing not lined up for the longest time was creating a course for writers. I can’t confess to understanding all of the reasons that I’ve avoided doing it, but I can speculate.

It means so much to me.

I knew deep down that I would do it even if only one person showed up. I would do it even if no one paid me the first time, and I would keep honing my chops and my offerings until I found the right fit.

That still doesn’t mean I’m not incredibly terrified. I get scared! Scared SHITLESS. My brain, many weeks ago:

What if no one shows up? What if I’m a terrible teacher? What if I can’t get it all done? What if it doesn’t work? WHAT IF NOT ONE PERSON SHOWS UP? What it I can’t do it on top of the work I’m already doing? What if this isn’t what I’m meant to do? WHAT IF, WHAT IF, WHAT IF EVERYTHING???

WHAT IF IT’S ALL JUST WRONG?

So scream the fear-monster voices in my head.

Yes. They are there. I have them. 

When you get close to your dreams, fear can rage like a giant monster. Every thing that could go wrong seems to loom large. The website broke. I stayed up all night, nervous about prepping the materials. Funky characters showed up across my website. More things went wrong. Before launching the program, I waited for months. I studied stacks and stacks of books, compressing more knowledge into the course documents in order to make it even better. I stalled. And then stalled some more. I thought about not doing it at all. I almost said to myself, “Nah, one wants this. It’s not worth trying.” 

And then someone thanked me. People went out of their way to reach out and tell me how excited they were. 

Several more people signed up. The class started filling up before I had all my ducks lined up and my posts ready to go. (I have so much more promotion I’m planning on!)

In the form: “Yes. I’ve been waiting for this. This is exactly the class I want.” and “I’m so excited I cannot WAIT until the 29th!”

Holy shit. I’m so excited. And thankful. This is going to be good.

Today, with the class more than half full already, I could laugh away those fears and pretend with a big shiny smile that everything is all and well, but it’s not the truth. I’m scared, too. The fear monsters hit everyone. I don’t know all the answers. But I do love writing!

I’ve learned, slowly, over and over again, that the scariest part of doing anything is not doing it and wallowing in thought. 

And wrapping your thoughts around all those fears? That’s a scary space.

Be brave. Get started.

The best way to do anything is to do it. If you’re afraid of starting, make it smaller and simpler. Want to have a conversation with your boss about something you’re frustrated about? Don’t write a big report or delay on it. Write a quick, simple email that says: “I’ve got a couple of items I’d really like to talk to you about–including a couple of frustrations I’d like to work through. When’s the best time to chat, and is there a format that’s easiest for you?” Do it as soon as you know that you have to have this conversation. Stop by and say what you think. Look for solutions.

And be brave. I know it’s terrifying, I know it’s not easy, and I go through it all the time.

Be brave.

With big love this week,

sarah signature

 

Are You A Watcher Or A Judger?

Posted on by Sarah K Peck

A few weeks ago, I was teaching some of Spring’s early-season open water courses down at Aquatic Park near Ghirardelli Square in San Francisco. A group of new swimmers stood, shivering, outside of the water while the coaches and I explained the process of getting acclimated to cold water temperatures and critical things to know about the differences between pool swimming and open water swimming.

With a temperature of 52 degrees in early March, the sting upon entering is brutal and shocking: it takes every swimmer’s breath away, leaving people with the feeling of hyperventilation for a minute or two before you acclimate to the temperatures.

One of the things I notice with both myself and with new swimmers–particularly talented adults who are very competent in other areas of their life, but new to swimming–is how quickly our thought processes jump from an observation to a secondary judgment.

In open water swimming, one of the many difficult things to do is swim in a straight line, and also to sight–to spot off of a land mark in the distance to help guide your course. With your eyes at the water line and waves chopping up around you, it’s easy to get disoriented or confused or not see something the first couple of times you take a peek up at the horizon line. Add a group of swimmers surrounding you, and it’s easy to get lost or confused pretty quickly.

“Be present as the watcher of your mind — of your thoughts and emotions as well as your reactions in various situations.” – Eckhart Tolle (Tweet this)

What happens, however–and this goes beyond swimming–is that people will take a stroke, try to sight off of an object–and for any number of reasons, won’t see the thing they are looking for. A wave, a swimmer, a mis-calculation, some foggy goggles–all of these make the chances that you’ll get that perfect “sighting” on one stroke very small. I often have to sight three or four times before I get any information that’s helpful to me. So, I put my head back down, take a few strokes, and try again. After a couple of tries, I get the information I need, or at least partial information. I can begin to piece together a map of my environment over time with lots of additional clues that I keep looking for.

What happens to new swimmers, however, is that when they miss that first sighting–and they don’t see anything–they start to judge themselves. “What the heck! Why can’t I see anything?” The self-talk pattern happens pretty quickly (and believe me, I know this because it’s true for me, too)–“I’m such an idiot! Why can’t I get this right? Why is this so hard? What am I doing wrong!”

We — capable, smart, talented adults — are very quick to collapse a judgment on top of a behavior almost immediately after something goes wrong.

I encourage and coach my swimmers to adopt an “observational” philosophy and to leave the judgment part, or analysis, until after we get out of the water. “Just watch what goes on, and state it as a fact, and leave it there for a bit. Practice letting your thoughts come, but don’t be hard on yourself about them,” we’ll tell the swimmers before we get in the water. It really is okay if it doesn’t all go perfectly.

When I breathe while swimming out doors, I often don’t get a breath every time I take a stroke. Often the elements–waves, wind, timing–slam water in my face or make it hard for me to get the air I need. I keep going, without skipping a beat, working into the rotation. Head back down, spit out the water, roll over to the next breath cycle, and try again. After years of training, missing a breath doesn’t phase me–I know that a couple seconds down the line, I’ll grab some air and it will all be fine. As a newbie, however, this is both terrifying and also unknown territory. While breathing is perhaps the most extreme of examples, if it’s possible to stay relaxed and calm even amidst very scary things happening, chances are you’ll end up just fine and you’ll get another chance to improve (or breathe) a couple seconds down the line.

“It doesn’t always go right the first time. Remind yourself that that’s okay.” (Tweet this)

In another, non-athletic personal example, the same “observational versus judgmental” tack came into play. A while ago, I was struggling with an overwhelming amount of lethargy and exhaustion, and I wasn’t able to do all of the things I normally do. I found myself arriving at home, exhausted, and falling asleep by 8 or 9 PM at night–and sleeping straight through until 8 or 9 AM. All of the time I usually spent working on side projects, training, or working with clients was gone. There were a couple of months I didn’t get my regular workouts in, and I had to take some time off of work to stay back at home, and I didn’t take on any new clients or projects. In a conversation with my roommate (and dear friend), I sighed and said,

You know, I’m going to have to be okay with just watching this. Observing. I don’t fully know what’s going on, or why, but I don’t have the energy to be mad at myself for not being able to do everything right now. I think I just need to be patient and observe what’s happening. I can’t collapse judgment on this and be so hard on myself about not doing everything I had hoped I’d be doing at the point in the year. Something’s going on, and I’ve got to give it some space and time. All I can do right now is look at my behavior and actions over time, and look for patterns. Before I jump in and get really hard on myself, it’s worth being gentle and asking myself why I think this is happening.

It’s not easy — so often I find myself discouraged on top of my failure, adding judgments on top of my already unexpected performance. For people who work really hard, especially exceptionally talented people (and I know many of you out there are like this), being able to pause and “just watch” yourself and suspend the early judgment can be tremendously difficult. Sometimes I think of it as a moment, or a pause–time to stop, observe, and try to understand. Give yourself a couple of days before you get on the analytical bandwagon.

What about you? When you find yourself trying something new, or doing something differently than you expected, do you jump in and criticize yourself immediately?

As Eckhart Tolle so eloquently writes, “Be present as the watcher of your mind.” When I’m in the open water, I let myself watch my thoughts roll in and out, seeing them as pieces of neural firings and slowing down from collapsing judgment on them. This meditative, gentle attitude can be practiced. Start with watching (and don’t judge yourself if you find yourself judging!). When, over time, you find the ability to separate from your immediate thoughts and see them as streams of information and not actually constructing your reality–it’s a very powerful moment. As Tolle writes:

“Be present as the watcher of your mind — of your thoughts and emotions as well as your reactions in various situations. Be at least as interested in your reactions as in the situation or person that causes you to react. Notice also how often your attention is in the past or future. Don’t judge or analyze what you observe. Watch the thought, feel the emotion, observe the reaction. Don’t make a personal problem out of them. You will then feel something more powerful than any of those things that you observe: the still, observing presence itself behind the content of your mind, the silent watcher.” – Eckhart Tolle

Making (restaurant) decisions easier — a quick sketch.

Posted on by Sarah K Peck

Binary Decisions Restaurant Menu, by Sarah Peck

I was sitting at a restaurant not too long ago, reading through another incredibly long list of options, both overwhelmed and exasperated by the choices in front of me. I just want something good to eat! I thought. I don’t want to read everything and choose. My analytically-focused brain, however, often prompts me to read every single option before making a decision, because I want to be sure that I’ve made the best decision.

This got me thinking, however, about how we make decisions, decision paradoxes, and how to design menus that are easy for the user, not the sender. It’s not enough to put all the information onto a page. What if we designed a menu that took into account the psychology of how we make decisions?

A quick sketch later, and my sister and I brainstormed a menu that presented only binary options. You decide between a series of two choices, until you arrive at three or fewer options for what you might select to eat. For example, look at “start here.” You have two options — deciding between the “vegetarian/fish” side and the “meat” side. Once you pick a side, go up if you want fish, down if you want veggie. Then continue to select until you pick what you want to eat. Check it out, above.

Restaurant menus, like many, many other consumer interfaces, are typically designed with the first intent of giving the user all of the necessary information. Secondarily, a higher-end restaurant might layer in sophisticated-looking fonts, higher-quality papers and other polishes that make the menu look and feel in accordance with the brand. But what about a menu that understands the way that human brains work? That understands–and incorporates–human psychology and decision-making into the design itself?

This probably goes for other menus, too. (Such as the menu on your website, or the number of options you give people in company packages). Apple is well-known for making decisions simpler (at least they were).This menu was also inspired by a brilliant waitress that was able to nail what I wanted by closing the menu in front of me and asking me three questions (Meat or Veggie? Sweet or Salty? Carb side or veggie side?) and proceeded to give me two options for things I thought were delicious. Yes, please!

I’d love for someone to riff off of this, too. Take it–and make a better one. Make it more clear. What would you change? Would this make your decision-making easier?

 

Are You Over Thinking?

Posted on by Sarah K Peck

Sometimes the answer is just doing it.

Not thinking about doing it. Not writing about doing it. Not talking about doing it. And not waiting on it, or giving it more time.

Sometimes you just need to do it.

Anticipation can be deadly. Every time I have to jump into cold water or a cold pool, I can’t think about it too much. The more I think about it, the longer it takes to do it. The longer I think about it, the harder it gets to pull the trigger. The longer I think about it, the less time I spend actually doing it, and the more time I spend lost in thinking about it. The worst part is always the first three minutes as my body acclimates to the change in temperature from the outside air to the colder pool. And magically, after those three minutes, the sting wears off and I even begin to forget those moments pre-cold. Adaptation happens quickly. We forget our fears the minute we go ahead and get started.

The worst part is starting. Scratch that. Sometimes the worst part is the anticipation of starting. Sometimes the worst part is all that dang thinking you do before you start doing what you really need to just be doing. It’s all that thinking about starting that can paralyze you.

Quit that thinking.

The antidote to anticipation is action.

The hardest part can be just getting started.