Tag: inspiration

No Excuses: How to Stop Bullshitting Yourself and up your Mental Game

Posted on by Sarah K Peck

No excuses: how to go beyond what you think is possible

It was my junior year of college, and my third year making the National team as a varsity swimmer.

We were two weeks out before the big races: the national swimming meet drew colleges like Emory, Kenyon, MIT, Williams, Amherst, and Johns Hopkins. The 3-day event is held in March in a major U.S. city every year. From the time we got back on campus in the Fall, up until this point in March, we were training. Swimming was life, and life was swimming. Training started in earnest in September, and we had 10 practices each week, often clocking in 10,000 yards of swimming on a daily basis.

I lived in the dorms, housed with three other women in a two-bedroom suite with a shared bathroom. We had access to a dorm kitchen downstairs. A brilliant thought came to mind that early day in March: why don’t I make some cookies for the team?

For however well I could swim in the water, however, I couldn’t walk on land for shit. I fell down a flight of stairs, broke my foot, and realized with panic that I’d have to go see my coach and tell him that I’d just broken my foot.

I broke my foot two weeks before the national meet and didn’t know whether or not I’d be able to swim.

I grabbed an ice pack, put in on my foot, and called my mom. “What do I do? Do you think it’ll heal by tomorrow?”

The next day, my coach looked at my foot and said, “What the hell did you do?”

“Go get in my office.”

(He said this kindly, but it was still very intimidating.)

I hobbled across the deck and went into his office and shut the door.

In his office, he asked me what happened. After a few moments, he paused, look at me, and told me that I’d have to choose.

Would I be swimming on the national team, or would I be done for the season?

“I don’t care which way you decide. But if you choose to swim on the national team—if you’re going to train these next two weeks, and get in the pool to race—I don’t want to hear another word about your broken foot until after the meet is over.”

I was wide-eyed.

But in retrospect, it was one of the kindest things he could have done.

This story—and what happens next— I dig into in detail with Steph Crowder on her podcast, Courage and Clarity. We talk about how these specific life events shape us, and the backstories behind where we are today. (I’m actually on two episodes with her: in the first, we break down how to overcome mental weakness, kill excuses, and make things happen even in shitty circumstances. In the second, we look at how to create clarity in your business through a decision-making tool I love.

But back to the story.

That day, down at the pool, when my coach made me make a decision about how I would proceed, he taught me the power of mindset and how important it is to not let an excuse build up in front of you.

I had a great opportunity to make an excuse: my foot was broken!

Sure, you can have a broken foot. But I could also hang my hat on that as a reason for why something wouldn’t work, and opt myself out mentally, before I’d even given myself a chance.

The true test of perseverance and resilience, the people who make it through their 20 Mile March are the ones who look at that moment when they COULD make an excuse and they say, “I’m choosing to do it anyways.”

(For those worried about my foot, I went to the doctor and they said I wouldn’t cause any further damage to it by using it in swimming. If I was a runner, it might have been another story.)

The person who wins, the person who makes it happen isn’t the person who has some magical better circumstances than you.

No one has perfect circumstances. I realized, as I looked around the pool, that everyone has something—tired, bad night of sleep, social stress, and more—and the ones who find a way to do it in spite of, and alongside, all that’s going on, are the ones that rise to the top. When we make excuses, we’re just making excuses.

My coach gave me a gift: the gift of letting this major hurdle go. Every day I iced and wrapped my foot, and in the pool, I spent time practicing how to do a new swim start, a dive, with my foot in a different position.

And, I realized: my foot didn’t hurt too much—the swelling made it somewhat protected and wrapped. And as a sprinter, the adrenaline fueled my body before I had even a fraction of a second to register that there was pain.

I went on to swim in 17 different races across three days. By the end of the meet, I earned three All-American trophies and placed in the top 16 in the nation for swimming alongside my teammates.

And I had a broken foot.

You’re either strengthening the muscle that makes excuses, or you’re strengthening the muscle that does it anyway.

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Huge thanks to Steph Crowder for inviting me to join her on the Courage and Clarity podcast. Listen to the full story on Episode 31 here: https://www.courageandclarity.com/podcast/31 . If you’d like to hear more stories like this, check out the entire podcast with amazing courage stories and their badass business wisdom.

The problem with thinking too big…

Posted on by Sarah K Peck

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“Dream big. Reach for the stars. The only limit is in your mind.” How often do you hear these words? We’re filled with the power of positive mantras in motivational texts, books, and seminars. The problem with expansive thinking, however, is that too big can be just as much of a problem.

The problem of thinking too big, however,

is that you’ll forget to get started.

Or you’ll become afraid of getting started.

[tweetable hashtag=”@sarahkpeck”]The more you dream, the bigger it becomes, the harder it can be to begin.[/tweetable] And sometimes, dreaming can get in the way of taking action. Over time, the practice of not starting becomes the best habit you have—another day to practice not starting, not doing anything.

Action is difficult. Deciding is painful. Manifestation, by definition, requires limitation. In order to make something real, you need to carve out and throw out all of the possible ways that something will not be. To make requires substance and grounding. It requires physicality and reality. It inherently means you limit the dream.

As you sketch your dreams for your life and career, you can have multiple jobs. You can own multiple businesses. Make multiple projects. But dwelling in dream land can hinder action.

The longer you hold onto an idea, the more the idea becomes a part of your identity, and the more wrapped up you become in making sure that idea is what will become the reality. The more goal-oriented and dream-oriented, the harder it gets to start. And if you hold on for too long, that idea of perfect execution becomes so big and monstrous, that if you take action—especially if you take action and fail—you’ll have killed or damaged part of your identity, part of what you’re yearning and hoping for. By chasing the dream with action, you put yourself in a scary place: a place where you might not get what you want.

[tweetable hashtag=”@sarahkpeck”]Making dreams become real is a scary business.[/tweetable] Ignorance can be a blessing. You sidestep the part where you get distracted by all of your fears of failure because you haven’t been able to imagine them yet. 

Sometimes hope and patience can turn a dream into an enormous mental glorification, resulting in the worst sin of all:

Not starting.

Specifically, not starting because of fear of failure. Because if you fail, you’re not what you thought you would be.

Our minds get in the way sometimes. [tweetable hashtag=”—@sarahkpeck”]Stop that thinking.[/tweetable]

Get started.

Big-picture thinking has its place. So does action. Sometimes you have to get out of your head, into the world, into the making, and start testing. Start building. Make a small thing, make a bunch of mistakes, shake it off, keep going. Over time, you can iterate. Test a couple ideas.

Worry less about getting there and more about being here.

But if you don’t start—you won’t go anywhere.

Do something.

Do Something — Book excerptWant a bit more motivation? A few years ago, I put together a mini-book on motivation with hand-drawn notes, quotes, and words to get you going. The book is available by donation or for free through Gumroad. If you want a copy, grab your own—it’s free if you’d like it.

 

Words to Fill Your Mind: The Power of a Mantra

Posted on by Sarah K Peck

The words that fill our minds…

We all have words that we cycle on repeat in our minds—from worries about being late to songs we sing or words we repeat. Don’t be late, don’t be late, don’t be late, we repeat to ourselves as we rush from subway to office to meeting to appointment. Gotta finish, gotta finish, gotta finish—it builds across our mind like a chant, a pull to keep us focused long enough to finish the day or the project.  

[tweetable hashtag=”@sarahkpeck”]”What we think, we become.” —Buddha[/tweetable]

What is a mantra?

A mantra is a basic sound used in meditation and chanting, and more simply, in our daily lives. At its root, a mantra means “mind tool.” The root man– means mind; tra- means protection or instrument. Anodea Judith, in The Wheels of Life, describes a mantra as “a tool for protecting our minds from the traps of nonproductive cycles of thought and action.” She writes:

[tweetable hashtag=”@sarahkpeck”]“Mantras serve as focusing devices for making the mind one-pointed and calm.”—Judith[/tweetable]

Have you ever heard a young kid gleefully say the same thing over and over again? “This is so COOL!” They exclaim, only to repeat the same thing again a few minutes later, and again a few minutes later. Our minds hold words and ideas captive, guiding our thoughts with simple patterns that we often repeat on cycle. Sometimes it’s negative:

Dumb, dumb, dumb. That was dumb. Why did you do that?

And sometimes it’s positive:

Awesome, awesome, awesome. Nailed that! Whooo! Yes. Awesome. Awesome, awesome. 

And sometimes we get a peaceful song noted in our minds—a song that sticks, webbed words woven into our invisible frameworks.

Oh what a beautiful morning… Oh what a beautiful day…

Try it yourself:

A beautiful way to start your day is with a small mantra. Try a notecard taped to the side of your bed, a post-it on the inside of your wallet, or a scribbling on your daily diary. One of the reasons I write so many notes and doodle all over instagram is to remind myself and repeat words as I imprint them into my being.

What phrases would you love to embed in your mind? What new mind patterns and habits would be soothing or helpful? Perhaps during times of stress, “This too shall pass;” or “This is just but a moment.” These short phrases are powerful tools to build into your inner mind strength. Sometimes I like to hum to myself, “zoom in, zoom out,”—the vibration of the z buzzing against my lips, the mmmm a buzz deeper in my ribs and belly. (Try it: humming is delightful).

[tweetable hashtag=”@sarahkpeck”]”Zoom in, zoom out. It’s nothing in the macroscrope, it’s nothing in the microscope.”[/tweetable]

The vibrations of actual sound — joyful noises, as I like to call them — do more than just warm up our vocal chords. They are a means of expression, and they help to settle our mid-bodies.

How do you use language to protect your mind? Do you chant, sing, or hum each day? Do you have a phrase you love to hold on to?

What words are you telling yourself? Listen in.

Your life is a set of made-up habits.

Posted on by Sarah K Peck

Your life is a set of made-up habits.

You learned how to behave by doing something, and then repeating it hundreds, if not hundreds of thousands of times until it became normal for you. When talking to one of my yoga instructors the other day, he said: “Want to change your personality? Just do something 1,000 times and it will feel like it’s you after a while.”

You learned how to tie your shoes one way, and then you did it thousands of times. You learned how to ride a bicycle, swim, dance, hold a pen, write in cursive, and use a computer — or if you haven’t yet, you might still want to.

You can change, make up things you want, do new things. It’s totally up to you. Once you realize how weird you are currently — from the way you organize your bathroom to the times and frequency of eating to dropping clothes on the floor randomly — you can decide, hey, I want to be weird in a NEW way.

You can set your radio to wake you up to chants, decide to go running at 4AM and then go back to bed, begin a writing habit even if you’ve never done it before, or decide to start Tae Kwon Do at age 48. It takes us a bit of new energy to start a new habit, but it’s not impossible.

The biggest thing holding us back from doing new things is a frail set of patterns that tell us we are what we already have done.

Screw that. It’s a big open empty canvas in front of you, and you might have to scratch a little to climb out of your past, but you really can shift and change.

You are your habits. And your habits can be changed.

Are you itching and ready for change? So many beautiful ways to start the new year. Here are a few programs and classes I love.

Posted on by Sarah K Peck

I have a confession to make.

I signed up for three courses this January, and I’ve got so many notebooks and pens and pencils out that I’m doing geeky little dances around my apartment, although my apartment keeps getting messier and messier. Magazines, scissors, glue, crafts? Check. Class on financial awareness and making money as a creative entrepreneur? Check, check. Advancing my skills in writing and storytelling by taking more writing classes? Absolutely.

If you’re itching for growth and change like I am, the new year is always a beautiful time to try out new classes, habits, and ideas. I find I work best in community with other folks, and with a regular routine or schedule–so this month of January, I’m setting time aside to do more creative writing and crafts. But what will you do? What are you hoping to work on this year? What changes have you been itching to make in your life?

Earlier I posted great gifts for the Holiday, and as an addendum, here are several more programs that might be exactly what you need this January. (Obviously I want you to sign up for both the Writer’s Workshop and the Content Strategy course, but your needs and finances are diverse, so pick and choose what’s right for you).

Here’s a list of books, ideas, courses, and free self-guided programs to help kick off the new year.

Master Classes + Masterminds:

  • RevolutionU with Good Life Project and Jonathan Fields. A band of visionaries and creatives join together in an intensive 8-week mastermind with the one and only Jonathan Fields. Jonathan has been a voice of strength and courage and I’m constantly learning from him. I’ll admit, I’m tempted.
  • Jenny Blake’s Build-Your-Business Bootcamp. Itching to get moving on your creative projects and make your business, well, make sense? Jenny has been an instrumental friend and coach–I’ve often called on her to work through ideas, but now instead of one-off coaching, she offers this powerful class.
  • Weekend in the Woods: Yoga & Writing Retreat with my friend Dave Ursillo in Rhode Island. January 17-19, limited spaces left.
  • The Writer’s Workshop and Content Strategy for Thought Leaders. If improving your communication is something you want to focus on this year, sign up for the January 13th and February 17th courses. Since so much of our world (read: the internet) exists in written form, improving your writing chops helps you in every area of your life. Sign up before January 10th to join me in the first workshop.

Business + Creative Courses:

  • Willo’s Harvest & Thrive modules for Creative Entrepreneurs: I signed up for three of the modules and I can’t wait to learn from this lady. Clarifying your vision, creating structure and focus, and thriving financially and the heart of this creative endeavor. ($49 per module).
  • Hannah Marcotti’s Spirits of Joy January Course: (Begins January 2).I’m enrolled in this and you can follow some of my progress on my Instagram feed if you want a peek into what’s happening. $29.
  • Alexandra Franzen’s I Heart Email Course: This lady speaks my language. We write every day in email, thousands of words per day, and it could be so much better. The course runs at your own choice of donation amount (honor system). I’m so looking forward to this.
  • Jeff Goin’s 500-words writing challenge: Want to write 500 words a day? Join in with writer Jeff as he and his community write 500 words a day. (Sign up on his blog and leave a comment
  • Leo Babauta’s Sea Change Program: A monthly membership designed to help you implement and stick to changes in your life. The subscription is $10 a month and you are not obligated to stay for the full year.
  • Seth Godin’s SkillShare Master Marketing Class: Opens January 15th. (This is an affiliate link, which means I get $10 if you sign up–so I can take more classes, tell you about them, and generally make the world better. Things that are good. Thank you!)
  • Tara Gentile’s KickStart Labs: a place for entrepreneurs and small-business owners to feel less alone. Twice-monthly calls and a community of success-focused and vision-driven microbusiness owners just like you.

Athletic courses, coaching, and challenges: 

  • Amber Zuckswert’s EPIC Self 3-week online challenge. I worked with this lady in Bali, and she’s a wonderful yoga and pilates instructor. Full of wisdom and motivation, her 3-week pass is an absolute steal. $150 for downloadable DVD’s, bonus coaching sessions, and healthy recipes.
  • A Shrink Session with Erin Stutland in New York City (digital classes available). I’ve heard nothing but rave reviews about this lady. Blends workouts with positive affirmations. Mind-changing. I love movement, so yes, I’m trying one of these this year.

Books + Self-Guided Programs:

  • Your Best Year Yet: A 2014 Creative Calendar from Andrea Genevieve and Krystle Lilliestierna. Featuring 12 interviews with entrepreneurial women (yours truly is in the guide!), the calendar breaks down marketing, business strategy, and steps to take throughout the year in conjunction with the calendar.
  • The Artists Way. Pick up a copy of Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way and write 750 words each day and rediscover your creative self. It’s a 12-week self-guided program. (I’m doing it with a few friends from January to March. So excited!)
  • Pam Slim’s latest book, Body of Work. I picked it up and I think that it is her best writing to date. It’s not always easy to describe what your threads are, but it’s a phenomenal set of exercises that help you see your life as a complete body of work–filled with various projects and drives–and less about a singular definition or job. It’s also a huge relief, because you don’t need to nail one job or one description; it’s not about arriving.

A note: pick one and start small.

In order to make change in your life–particularly if you want different outcomes, you have to do something different. Change is hard. It’s really difficult to do new things and to make time, space, and be accountable for the changes you want to make. Pick only one of the things above if it really and truly aligns with your goals. Make wiggle room for growth and change.

In my experience, the most successful things I do start small and happen gradually. They also happen in community–where people can nudge me if I drop off and encourage me to get back on track. There are some things I’m more successful at self-guiding and other things I need lots of accountability for. People, schedules, and finances are great ways to encourage accountability. This is one of the reasons why I signed up for Yoga Teacher Training–to have a program, schedule, and giant financial commitment that would encourage me to do what I wanted to do.

And a quick note on finances:

PS: If you’re short on cash or chasing financial freedom, you don’t have to do any of these things. An $8 notebook and your own brain will serve you just fine. Email someone and ask if you can do a creative swap to join their course. Sign up for 750 Words and start your own January writing challenge.

The benefit of financial investment comes from supporting the work of people you love (one of the reasons why I sign up for so many things), joining a community (which helps you stay accountable), and putting your money where you want your heart to be (also an accountability move). But if you can’t afford it right now, be honest with yourself, too. I support conscious consumerism.

Do you know any great programs that should be shared?

Link it up in the comments and I’ll edit the post to add it!

What are you doing to make this your year?

Easy?

Posted on by Sarah K Peck

Shouldn’t it be easy?

An inside look at what it feels like for me:

There are some days when I can’t get out of bed. Some days when I feel so overwhelmed, tired, and disappointed in myself that I don’t know what to do, or where to begin.

The signs I hang up and the pins I post and the words I copy? They are just reminders to myself, first and foremost. I don’t know what I’m doing half the time. Most of the time. I’m just here, trying, just like anyone else.

It’s not easy. “Yoga teacher training,” for example, sounds like an indulgence when I type the letters into my social profiles, cheerily posting about heading off to practice, but the reality of practicing these twenty hours each week is a face-to-face awakening with the mindsets I live with. Each time, I struggle with being too tired, with being scared, and with confronting my “samskaras,” or the past stories and patterns of truth I’ve got imprinted on my brain. I struggle mightily with quieting my mind, and this devil of a mind drives me bat-shit crazy. A lot.

A lot.

Seriously, who writes 20,000 words a week… just to stay sane?

I write to let it out, to maintain my sanity. I’m afraid that I’ll be insane by fifty and mumbling to myself in poverty huddled in a torn jacket in the corner of the subway entrance, and that no one will see me.

None of this is easy.

Here’s the thing, though. It’s not promised to be easy. It’s going to be hard, it’s going to be weird, and there are going to be plenty of days where you’re in a puddle, confused, lost, lonely, or wondering where to go. When I left my job to begin my own company, it was hard—I had to learn (and I’m still learning) new systems, new organization patterns, new habits, how to prioritize—again and again. I had to learn how to work alone. How to be accountable.

The lessons keep coming.

The promise of “easy” is a delusion, sometimes. Is that the point, though? I don’t think any of us, if we really thought about it, said—yes, the only thing I want in this life is the easy stuff. Forget about the rest of it, I’d just like it to be easy.

No, it’s not about the easy. (There is ease, but that’s a different conversation). First, it’s about what you do when it’s not easy. It’s about realizing that even if it’s hard, it can still be beautiful, and you can still make things that matter when you’re tired, lonely, scared, depressed, or bothered.

In the words of my coach, during a particularly arduous sequence of events: “Just f-*king do it.”

“Show me you can do it no matter what.”

This is when you become better than the best. Not when circumstances are perfect. It’s when circumstances are shit and you do it anyways.

Easy?

When did someone sit down and promise you that it was supposed to be easy? Or better yet, fair? It’s not guaranteed to be easy or fair, and the people who get what they want go after it–in spite of and because of–each and every advantage or disadvantage they are thrown.

Sometimes, things are easier than you could have ever imagined–pieces fall into place, the actions a result of agreement finally locking into place in your mind.

Other times, the fight for what you want, what you desire, is harder than you’d ever imagined; it begs you to give up, to stop, to drop. You doubt your desires, you fear the pain. You quiver, you stall. Many give up–no, most give up–and say, you know what? I don’t want it as much as I thought I did. I’m not willing to fight.

But if you want it, if you really, really want it, you’ll make it, you’ll do it, you’ll fight for it.

You’ll keep going even if it’s years of pain and labor, if it’s a fight worth fighting.

You’ll give up the excuses and the hards and tireds and you’ll find a way.

This is when you become better than the best. Not when circumstances are perfect. It’s when circumstances are shit and you do it anyways.

Do it anyway.

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. 

The best of the blog: behind the scenes on organization, archives, and new reading collections for your weekend.

Posted on by Sarah K Peck

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“Sarah, how long does it take to build a website?”

That’s a great question. I get asked this question all the time, not surprisingly. And the answer, well–the answer is difficult to pin down.

Because it’s not just about the design, or the bones of the site–it’s about the content. And the organization of that content.

Building this site has been a labor of love.

Building this site is and has been a labor of love (and increasingly a business), and it’s taken me a very long time to do—I’ve been blogging for three years and I’ve written nearly 300 posts. The simple reason I’ve kept doing it is because I love writing. I love learning, ideas, and growth—and I learn through writing, philosophical contemplation, and grappling with ideas.

But how can you show how complex, layered, and deep a site is with a pixelated interface? The surface of a flat screen–whether a tablet, mobile device, or computer–only hints at the edges of the body of work; and often, we only notice the things that work poorly.

The length of time it takes to build a website is directly related to the amount of content that’s within the site.

And content creation is often the most difficult component. (I know: I’ve built and designed sites for people and waited months for the copy for the About and services pages to come; and I’ve done the same on projects where creating the paragraph to describe who I am and what I do takes an incredibly long time).

Adding new systems, getting organized, and site changes:

Over the past few month, I’ve been building into this site several new systems–from changing the frequency of posting to adding a newsletter and creating new sign-up forms–and I’ve also gone back and revamped and updated the archives and best of page. The complete record of all of the posts I’ve ever written (including some of the embarrassing early starts) are there.

How’d I get here? Simple. I wrote 250 essays, and I’m still showing up.

Going through all of the old content, watching my journey, looping together not-before-seen threads–let me discover new themes and do a macro-business audit. What do I continuously feel pulled to write about? What pieces were the standout pieces? Which ones surprised me? Are there areas and places I could improve the quality?

Some essays I would edit, massively. Time gave me perspective and new information. Others are poorly written (yup, happens to me all the time: the only way to get to the good stuff is to write it all out).

The benefit? I have 250 essays (well, probably 100 of those I would actually use). I can take these essays and build them into longer pieces; I can learn from them; I can build out longer documents by stringing them together, and I can start to layer complexity into future thought pieces.

So today, my treat: here’s a sampling of the best of the blog. Dig in, if you’d like. Have a cup of coffee and join me. I’ve curated what I think are the best of the blog, below. Enjoy.

On writing:

Life philosophy and the bigger picture:

Getting started, motivation:

Reminders, or how to keep going:

Making things happen–actually getting it done:

Psychology and the inner workings of the mind:

Useful tools, tricks, and tips:

Reflection, goal-setting, and tools for review:

Modest minimalist, and the art of having less:

Personal narrative and growing into your future self:

Reminders of kindness and empathy:

Swimming, running, athleticism, yoga + movement:

See the full archives or an extended list of the best-of-blog, in the menu up top or in the links. Thanks for being here.

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

Posted on by Sarah K Peck

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 “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 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.