Tag: itstartswith

When You Fall Down, Break Your Routine, or Stop: Notes on Re-Starting

Posted on by Sarah K Peck

HEADER GRAPHIC TEMPLATE—WRITING

The rhythm breaks. The routine falters.

You write, so diligently, and then a week slips by.

Getting back into the structure of things — writing — is even more challenging when traveling, moving, changing.

I can make a million excuses; writing and making time for writing is and always seems so hard.

It’s easier when I’m already making. When I’m on the train that’s already moving, it can be easier to keep going. And then I slip. My eyes wander up and left, I slip outside for a drink, I stop in the sunshine, I caress the thought of taking a break, and—

—Days go by. The procrastination wears down, like water through a crevice, building its rut and smoothing the sides into familiar curves with its constant trickle.

The weight of the days adds up, as though each day has its own weight, compounding over time.

Dread hangs over until the shadow of not doing spooks me in the morning, haunts me inside of the bags underneath my eyes. The sheer weight of not doing makes me so tired and that fear and dread build up, and I even start to doubt; I believe that I’m too tired; that tomorrow will be an easier, better day, that writing will somehow become more magical and effortless if I just wait.

The truth is, the one that I learn only by doing, is sometimes one sentence and one foot in front of the other, a shuffle-step, a trip, even — Sometimes sentences are written underfoot, scribbling out while running — the truth really is, that if I only just start, if I sigh and press open that sheet, tricking myself into making something so tiny I can’t help but just inch it out; when I make a small piece and massage it a bit, play out a word, dedicate a paragraph to the morning and a few more notes to the day;

The truth is, the hardest part is starting.

The gaping mountainous space that is not having started, with the weight of all the days piled up on top of each other like the exploding laundry piles of a pair of triplets, that space—that space is the one that can be popped like a balloon, a whistle of air sadly escaping out as a small sigh, only, only, only if you dare to jump, to pop the weight of the invisible balloon, to recognize that starting is always as hard as it’s ever been, and the hardest thing you do, will be to start.

Starting my pages is like an exercise in watching my crazy brain dart and monkey around — all the things I must do! Lists and busy-work become important, tasks and to-do’s building up alongside corners of pages, papers stacked several sheets high across the expansive desk space that is, for all purposes, meant for writing. I must make a new batch of tea! And i’ll try a green juice! Perhaps the internet will have the answers! I will Facebook like everything in sight because ALL OF THESE LIKE HAVE MEANING! I am connecting! I am powerful! I am!

And the answer is, after three hours of puttering, anxiety building in my stomach like a lining of acid swelling across my belly, I get so mad and frustrated that I shout, I MUST go for a run, I will RUN, then, then, you will SEE.

And a small piece of my mind thinks to me, you can’t afford to run, so, well, just write a couple of sentences before you go, and then of course, you will go for a run, and of course, that will help.

And then I sit at the desk, legs twisted to the left, shoes half-on, one sock on the floor, and finally open the document — my intent to start writing as soon as I get back, and then the document that is still blank bursts open on my screen, white terribleness blasting me with my procrastination; I stare at the pages that are empty, and with one hand on my shoe, I scribble and scratch out the thesis and the questions I’m going to be answering when I get back. I’m not writing, see, I’m running.

Lists and notes come out, and then my foot rotates and slides under my chair, and I’m jumbling in it, sports bra and keyboard, pouring, pouring, — well, I’ll just talk about this one thing, I start to say, but that story in the paragraph builds into a third, or a fourth, and I look up and the clock has spun around a few times far too quickly, and the sun’s down already, and I’m still in my underwear from taking off my pants to go for a run, but in between pants off and shorts on, I sat down to type, and the typing exploded, a story wielding it’s way on the page, long words and excessive ramblings wrapping around neatly in the shiny way that digital files do, and I’m hungry.

I’m hungry.

The sun’s down again. It’s dark.

On the days when I have to begin again, on the days when it’s been far too many days in between, and I haven’t written in too long, I know that the most important thing is just the dump of words.

The writing will not be good — it rarely is on the first time, and especially not on the first day back, but the second or third day after greasing the word wheel with an onslaught of words, it gets smoother and easier in a way that’s unexpected.

It’s like the first day is a rinse of my brain with a writer’s neti-pot, the morning pages and the first thousand words a clearing of the clutter, a draining and sweeping of the cobwebs in my brain. Snot-clearing pages, I describe them to my writing classes. Just get the snot out, blow your nose, suspend judgment and don’t look inside too closely at those boogers!

It’s like the pile of words that drains out is mucus that stuck up my brain, and those morning pages are blowing my brain’s nose. The next day, when the morning pages have been written a second time, I can sit down and my mind is much more connected to the page, to the words at hand.

Starting is hard.

Come back in, however you can.

Creating your own weekly review: Robert Cooper on finding ways to be exceptional.

Posted on by Sarah K Peck

Living up to your potential sounds pretty fancy. It’s something we all want, right? Live up to your potential. Maximize your potential. Be all that you can be. 

But how, exactly, do you do it? How does an intangible life objective become manifest into your daily routine? For Robert Cooper, author of The Other 90%: How to unlock your vast untapped potential for leadership and life, accessing our own hidden intelligence and achieving our potential lies in better understanding neuroscience and trusting our brains in order to unlock our full capacity.

What did you do last week?

What did you do last week? What did you do yesterday?

A friend of mine was chatting with me recently, and he confessed that he’d get to the end of his day and he would forget what it was that he had done during the day. He’d look at his to-do list and realize, “Oh, right—I did some account desk settings, some client help, answered emails, built my next list…”—but when prompted with a question, he couldn’t remember. Nothing stood out.

Our brains are designed to help keep us safe and warm—comfortable and secure. Cooper describes how this part of our brain works:

“A powerful part of the brain, the amygdala, wants the world to run on routine, not change. Located within the limbic system, an ancient area of the mind that deals with the way you perceive and respond to the world, the amygdala relentlessly urges us to favor the familiar and routine. It craves control and safety, which at times can be vital.”

The amygdala serves as the center of our brain to keep us safe and secure. When deciding between doing something new and something familiar, we’ll be steered to the familiar. This is helpful in many ways—but in terms of growing beyond your comfort zone, not so much.

“The amygdala’s instincts, which have evolved over thousands of years, tend to spill over into every aspect of life and promote a perpetual reluctance to embrace anything that involves risk, change, or growth.”

And here’s the kicker:

[tweetable hashtag=”—Robert Cooper via @sarahkpeck”]”Unless you choose to consciously override this brain tendency, you’re consigned to repeating the past.”[/tweetable]

After understanding how our brains operate to keep us safe, he devised a simple mechanism to “overcome our natural resistance to growth.” By regularly asking two questions—whether it’s by taping them to our bathroom mirror; scheduling a meeting with ourselves weekly, or having a journaling practice—we can begin to override the amygdala’s tendency to keep us safe and secure.

He recommends asking yourself two questions:

[tweetable hashtag=”@sarahkpeck”]What did you do last week that was exceptional?[/tweetable]

[tweetable hashtag=”@sarahkpeck”]What can you do next week that no one expects of you?[/tweetable]

Defining exceptional:

Exceptional might be loving more; it might a tender moment. It might be resting more, or doing less. What is exceptional for you—taking your child to school and holding his hand and listening to his stories—might be different for the next person.

For me, this week, I’ll follow up with my clients and prospects and touch base with people just to let them know I’m thinking of. This week, I’ll plan a brand-new webinar and teach myself a new software program to run more online classes. And this week, I’ll do week 6 of The Artist’s Way, a project still in fruition for me. Those are the exceptions to my week. Those are the pieces that are somehow difficult for me, and that will make this week above and beyond last week.

Breaking down ‘exceptional’ into weekly increments—noticing what’s different from one week to the next; understanding how a little bit more, or a little bit different this week can be the work that matters—is both tangible and do-able, and keeps you on track.

That way, when fifty-two weeks add up to a year as they always seem to do, you can look back and think, wow. That year was great.

[tweetable hashtag=”@sarahkpeck”]What will you do this week that’s exceptional?[/tweetable]

How do you combat loneliness? A brand new talk at ALIVE in Berlin + an epic scholarship opportunity worth $400.

Posted on by Sarah K Peck

Loneliness by Deviant Art

How do you deal with loneliness?

The problem with my first job wasn’t the job itself—it was how few people I knew at the company. In most structures throughout my life—family, school, college, sports—we bonded as teammates and community members because of shared goals, ideas, and dreams. Yet at work, I barely had friends. Perhaps it was the age disparity; the fact that people started quietly only a few days per year, or because we didn’t have a common lunch area. Being busy chasing financial goals didn’t help, either. At the end of my first year, I found myself tired, alone, and unsure of what I was contributing as an entry-level employee.

I made a vow to change a few things. I joined two sports groups—a morning swim team and a triathlon training group. I signed up for my first yoga community practice. And I started going to events. I found meet-up groups, lectures and workshops, and conferences to attend. In one year, I met more than 500 new people—many of whom are now, ten years later, some of my closest friends.

What is loneliness? Where does it come from?

What is loneliness? Where does it come from, and why do we experience it? How can we combat it—and better yet: why is it useful?

For the past year, I’ve been researching loneliness, community and the power of connectivity, and I’ll be debuting a new keynote at ALIVE in Berlin this May looking at the structures that create loneliness, why community and connectivity are so important, and what we can do to help reconnect both to ourselves and to other people. As a bonus, I’ll also be teaching a workshop on the power of connection—and tips on how to connect with other people through understanding the physical body (your posture and stance); through your story (and what you say); and by being open and asking questions.

One of the most important ways I’ve met new people and found my tribes is through attending and joining conferences that gather like-minded people together. From WDS (Portland) to Big Omaha (Nebraska) to The Feast (New York + Global) and TED (Global), each time I’ve taken the jitters of traveling alone, taken a deep breath, and tried to meet kind faces and reach out and extend my ties to the world by meeting more of the humans we share space with.

[tweetable hashtag=”@sarahkpeck @aliveinberlin”]The strength of your life comes from the people you surround yourself with.[/tweetable]

 

Alive in Berlin Banners-Jana+Sarah

What does a woman who lives with hens and roosters on a farm out in the middle of England decide to do after building a thriving virtual and in-person coaching practice? Start a conference, of course.

Jana Circle
I met Jana Schuberth at the first World Domination Summit (one of my favorite conferences—you can check out the yearly recaps as a testament to the experience). We both wandered through Portland, Jana with bare feet, me in my yoga clothes—and chatted about nutrition, exercise, paleo diets, motivation, and personal development. She’d made the trek over to the States from Loughborough, England, and our late night chats meant it was an instant kinship—we still chat by Skype as often as we can schedule it across projects and time zones.

I had a chance to sit down with Jana and interview her about her story, how she writes, and the challenges of blogging. As she says, “I’m probably a bit crazy to be doing this all, but I looked around and I really wanted the WDS experience here in Europe.” She describes chatting with a mentor about wanting someone to build similar conferences in Europe and her home country, Germany; to which her mentor replied:

“If you really want something like this, you’re going to have to be the one to build it.”

[tweetable hashtag=”@sarahkpeck @aliveinberlin”]“It’s your job to build what you want to see in the world.”[/tweetable]

With a bit of excitement and nerves, she realized—Yes, that’s it. Somehow, we’re going to throw a conference next year. Alive in Berlin was born.

Alive in Berlin Banners—1

Alive in Berlin: A global conference for change-makers

I have a soft spot in my heart for do-ers and makers; and this conference aims to collect them in one space. If you’re curious about the conference, check out Alive in Berlin (and read the end of this post for an incredible scholarship opportunity to the conference).

Some things to know: The conference is in Berlin. Registration fees are £349.00. Dates are May 30-31. It will be gorgeous Springtime in the epic city of Berlin (I’m staying a few extra days to explore the city—I’ve heard the street art is phenomenal and the late night dance parties epic, in addition to exploring the cities’ rich and vibrant history).

From the ALIVE team:

“Alive in Berlin is not just about getting a temporary hit of inspiration, it’s about making deep connections and coming away with a solid plan of action. Rather than leaving with your head in the clouds, overwhelmed with information and ideas and ultimately coming back down to earth with a bump, we want you to feel confident, re-energised and ready to wholeheartedly step all areas of your life up to the next level over the long-term.”

“The two-day event will include 8 brilliant expert speakers from a wide range of disciplines, space throughout the weekend for relaxed conversation and interaction, daily Q&A sessions where you can interact directly with many of our speakers and coaches, and opportunities to get active and involved for those who want to. There will also be a chill room and coffee corner to relax, reflect and take time out if you need to!”

Together we’ll explore the common threads that connect us and make us come alive.

And the EPIC April Giveaway: One scholarship space to ALIVE in Berlin—all the details (and a short application)!

Want in?

The thing about conferences is, they often cost a couple of bucks. I know—one year I went to 24 different events—from Big Omaha to The Feast to WDS to Startup Weekend Los Angeles. I was averaging a conference or event every other weekend—and I was exhausted. And it was the bulk of my eating and entertainment budget for the year (let’s just say I ate a lot of granola bars and hardboiled eggs).

But I wouldn’t change that year for the world.

The thing about conferences is, they’re also one of the best places to meet new people. People in your tribe, people who speak your language, people who have what you want, people who want what you have to offer. Sometimes it’s a late-night chat and a fitness conversation; sometimes it’s a life-long friend, sometimes it’s the right designer for your project or a place to crash the next time you travel to that new city.

[tweetable hashtag=”@sarahkpeck @aliveinberlin”]Finding your tribe—people who understand you—is life-changing.[/tweetable] As adults, there aren’t as many opportunities to mix up the sandbox and say hello to knew folks. To meet new friends. When you have the same job, the same commute, and the same screen every day, our opportunities for adult summer camp and friendship quickly dwindle. Conferences are places to let you come out of your current storyline and try a new route for your own adventure.

As a bonus—because I’m a speaker at the event—I have one scholarship ticket to ALIVE in Berlin to gift to a lucky reader in this community.

If you’re itching to go to Berlin, to shake up your life, or find a new community, one lucky winner will get to win ONE ticket to the conference.

How do you win? Here’s what you’ve gotta do:

  1. First, leave a comment down below! Tell us a conference story: what have conferences done for you? Where do you find and meet new people? What’s been the best event for you so far?
  2. Second, share this post. Heart it, tweet it, post it, write about it. Simple. Click to tweet: [tweetable hashtag=”@sarahkpeck @aliveinberlin]Epic April Giveaway: One scholarship space to ALIVE in Berlin![/tweetable]
  3. Third, apply for the scholarship with this application form.

Winner will be picked on Friday, April 11, 2014. Turn in your application by Thursday, April 10, 2014. You have one week to enter—good luck!

The scholarship is for £249 off the ticket price. The scholarship ticket will be £70 (to cover basic event fees + registration fees) towards the ticket price. If selected, you will have one week to purchase the ticket.

[tweetable hashtag=”@sarahkpeck @aliveinberlin”]Bravery is encouraged. Authenticity rewarded.[/tweetable] Tell us, what makes you come ALIVE?

To listen to the full interview with Jana Schuberth and Sarah Peck, listen here:

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.

Desire, Feelings, and Inner Softness: Why Is It So Hard To Feel Good? The Desire Map, by Danielle LaPorte

Posted on by Sarah K Peck

1. A confession.

The first time I picked up my copy of Danielle LaPorte’s Desire Map I could hardly finish it. I watched as social posts flickered in my online vision, people talking about its brilliance and I wondered why I couldn’t handle it. Personally, I wanted to throw it against the wall. It took me a long time before I picked it up again.

Lost in the throes of a job I didn’t want and a life I didn’t love—coming out of a relationship that didn’t work, and a body that failed me, I couldn’t stand it. How did I want to feel?

How did I want to feel?

I wanted to feel anything but the way that I was feeling.

Desire lights the way home, but it asks you to do something important first: it asks you to look inside and examine your feelings.

And that, shit, that’s hard.

2. It can be easy.

Wait, what? But it’s hard.

Yes, it can be easy.

At first, this sentence will make you laugh. It might make you angry. It made me angry.

Because when you’re in the middle of it, when you’ve tried everything you can and you’re working 12-14 hour days and working a few more hours at the end and you still don’t have enough money, when your fat cells congeal in your ass from sitting too long, when you cry alone in a garage because it’s the only place you can afford to live, having someone tell you it can be easy can be maddening.

It’s not fucking easy! You sputter. You laugh. You reach, reach, reach for the thing that makes you feel better right now, because the truth of the matter is that she’s actually right, as are many of the philosophers that talk about the root of desire within our souls,– right about how what you want, what you desperately crave is to feel the feelings of desire, ambition, pleasure… you want to feel good again.

You want to feel what you want to feel. You crave it, want it, need it.

But then, I didn’t want what I had, and all I wanted was to feel less pain and less hurt and less dissatisfaction and so I did everything I could not to feel.

How did I want to feel?

3. A rant against feelings.

Hated it, I hated it, and I just
didn’t want what I had, so
I did everything in my power
To numb it, to stop it, to prevent it,
God-damn-it, I just don’t want to feel this way any more … I whispered,
tears falling on the outside of my
heart, drops dripping across my ribs, well,
I just don’t want to feel anything.

We’ll run from pain, run as fast as we can into the open arms of
Whatever’s waiting for us that
Tells us we’ll feel better,
Even if feeling better simply means
Not feeling anything at all.

The unbearable lightness of being
Or rather the weight,
the heaviness of wanting to disappear, and
What it felt like under the
Heavy oppressive fatigue
Of loans-bills-obligations-parental-expectations,
job application denials, denials, denials,
to-do lists layered all up in post-its,
tangible reminders of what I hadn’t done and
who I wasn’t and how
miserably I was failing;

Thoughts about what I could and should and would do
If I could only just escape
Escape this hell of daily
monotony, droll dissatisfaction, loss.

I called my coach, my listless voice tacking across the telephone into her ear,
goals rolling out at half speed,
Alarmed, she interrupted me and said,
Sarah, Sarah, Oh Sarah,
First, let’s get you to

Sleep;

You are chasing ambition that can’t serve you right now;
a list of things that won’t help,
Let’s pause, pause.
Sink into what your body needs.
We’ll get there, she murmured quietly,
You don’t have to prove anything today
First, let’s unwind. It’s okay
to let go. To be here, right now.

It’s okay to be here right now.

4. Pain is a teacher.

Pain is the corner of our soul, our own personal life coach,
Talking to us through the crannies of our bodies,
Squishing through our insides,
Reaching out, clawing at our skin from the inside,
ripping at our hearts and minds and
often shouting insistently,

HEY, HELLO, and HELP! And
I’M LOST INSIDE OF WHAT YOU’RE DOING,
and then, sitting back, depressed,
why won’t you listen?
This is not the way.

And these feelings are the only thing your soul’s got to
Tell you that something has to change.
Will you listen?

This feeling, this desire, this pain,
This cutting, terrible, thick block
wrapped up against your chest
It’s a voice, a chant, a prayer, a desire
From your soul.

Yes, here we are again,
Desire, it’s a funny thing.
Desire…

And this desire leads us home.

Yes, it really does.

5. The difference between mind-numbing and feeling.

It’s not easy, digging into this emotional work, but you have a choice: you can continue to build up defenses and safety nets, numbing yourself with security and short-term solutions,

OR,

You can FEEL. You can feel what’s going on, and sit into the turmoil and strangeness and discomfort that is, quite simply, your body telling you a story.

When we have pain, we often try to hide from it or run from it. The discomfort of a job that doesn’t fit, of a relationship that isn’t right–your body knows.

And when it starts to feel bad, that’s your soul, speaking up. It’s saying to you, “Hey, there’s more to me than this. I am so bright, and so full, and so capable, and I need to grow past this and bigger than this. We’ve got to leave what we’re currently in so I can be stronger and bigger and brighter.”

When the soul speaks up, it often looks like a scary story, so at first we try to avoid it, because it sounds like:

“Drop everything you know, and walk away.”

And so, when I first picked up the Desire Map, I hated it. 

The hardest thing was the most simple: Danielle asked me to feel.

And in a world that’s so primed on not feeling and hiding our feelings and distractions and numbing and avoiding, I struggled. I was mad. I was really, really sad. Things hurt. Things weren’t working inside. Things weren’t working inside.

My crutches–alcohol, caffeine, mind-numbing television at night, running and running and running–were what I had to cope.

I didn’t know how I wanted to feel. I wanted not to feel. Asking me how I wanted to feel hurt. Burned. It felt terrible. When I picked up the book and had to confront an onslaught of feelings–to acknowledge feelings at all–I didn’t like it. (That’s the kind way of saying it.)

I cried under the covers and felt a raw ache in the center of my stomach. My eyes felt hollow and sunken in, my pants didn’t fit. I wore all black and barely made it to work on time, sometimes an hour late. I pulled sugar out of the cabinets and put as much of it as I could into my mouth while watching television late into the evening, impressive shows like The Biggest Loser and America’s Next Top Model. I drank entire bottles of wine and loved the feeling of being drunk. I put on glittery clothes and went to as many parties as I could go to. Sometimes I’d get home and sit on the bottom of the stairs and weep. Climbing them took too long.

What the fuck is this shit, I’m sure I said.

Feelings. 

6. The process of getting to the good feelings.

For me and desire mapping, I’ve realized that there is a process to it all.

Sometimes the pre-requisite to getting to the great feelings is acknowledging all the shitty feelings that might currently be present. To get to the good ones, you gotta start where you are. You really can’t start anywhere else. And it can be a messy, painful, difficult unfolding process. It might not be easy right now.

I’m convinced, now, that this is part of the unfolding process.

To feel the root of desire, you first have to feel.

When you cut off the layers of plaque that hold you back, you can shine more brightly.

There’s plaque lining the outside of each of our souls. We build plaque and tartar through life’s wear and tear. We build resistance and protection.

But the current pain is temporary. It’s the space through. Lean into the fire, and walk into the fear, and embrace it. The shaking and stirring is part of the recipe for your greater truth.

There is love and kindness on the other side. Be brave. Love yourself. Be kind to yourself. Embrace this transformation.

Chip and chisel away at the armor that protected you in the past. You don’t need it anymore. You can be bigger and brighter. I know it. And somewhere inside, you know it, too.

7. Bringing desire to light: a roadmap for your soul.

I picked up the book again, the map, the program.

And begrudgingly wrote down what I wanted, what I wanted to feel.

There was a key distinction: not what I thought I wanted to feel. Words that I thought I should feel tumbled out, like intelligent and accomplished and satisfied. 

Yet my soul whispered Sarah, I’m too tired, in reply.

I dug a little deeper. What did my mind and body and spirit and soul want, right now, in this exact moment? At this point last year, all I wanted to do was sink into a bed of restful bliss, sweet dreams, and a pile of cotton candy so high I’d be able to drift off into a beautiful rest. I dreamed of Mexico vacations and sandy beaches and warmth. My pulse jumped a little when I wandered by McDonald’s and I saw the kiddie grounds with piles of balls. Sinking in… I wanted to rest.

I wanted sleep. I wanted to feel peace.

I wanted freedom.

As I wrote, my ego started furiously correcting me,
Insisting that these little words weren’t
Torches enough to light the proper path,

I needed to be chasing things like Success and Prosperity and Wealth and Fame.

And I laughed,
As much as you can laugh from the belly of your bed buried under covers of tears,
Said, fuck it, you know, right now,
I gotta let go,

All I want right now is

Peace, freedom, quiet, and joy, rest,
And movement in my body.
Joy, I’d like a bit more joy.

These words became my torch for a terrible winter, a slow process to guide me through decisions, a wayfinding map out of the darkness of burnout and fatigue.

As the world swirled up around me, coaxing my cracked mind and ego with invitations, I used these words as sign-posts for decision making for the current period.

Rest, Joy, Movement, Freedom.

Those became the framework for my decisions for the six long, dark, cold winter months where I shielded myself from burnout and clung to the minimum scraps of what I could scrape together. Did it bring me rest? Then it was a no. Did it bring me joy? Then it was a no. Was it movement related? (Like the joy and freedom of dancing, and how a single dance class could bring me back to more rest?) Nope, not gonna. Did it help me on my path to freedom?

Then no, nope, and no.
No, no, no.

8. Fast forward to today (because it’s so much easier to move time in writing),

Desire, rooted desire, internal desire, internal fire—
The desire to change, to lean, to get closer to home,

The home inside of the self, inside of the soul,
That content, that peace, that
Conscious swell within,
That lets the voices go and the chatter fall
Softly to the wayside—

This desire tells a story. It tells a story of you, and tells you, through words and a language of its own, the shifts and places for change and growth.

My words today are slightly different—they are peace and freedom and light and movement and joy. Using the words of right now brings you closer to your desire, to yourself, to your light.

So that desire thing?

It’s a map to your soul. To your light. To your essence. Sometimes it’s a bit buried.

It’s okay to feel.

It’s okay to be you.

It’s okay to be where you are, right now.

XO.

Desire Map is a program and a book by Danielle LaPorte that’s been one of the many tools and processes instrumental in shifting my life over the past year. It’s one of many that I’ve come back to, time and time again, as I learn to listen to my soul. The new collection comes out tomorrow, December 3, along with a day planner, a workbook, and a journal. Also: I happen to know the designer who helped bring this collection to life, and I’m madly in love with him. Enjoy.

“A serving of gratitude saves the day,” (and five gift spaces open in the course)!

Posted on by Sarah K Peck

Did you see the headline of the New York Times? It turns out that a serving of gratitude does wonders for you psychologically:

“Cultivating an “attitude of gratitude” has been linked to better health, sounder sleep, less anxiety and depression, higher long-term satisfaction with life and kinder behavior toward others, including romantic partners. A new study shows that feeling grateful makes people less likely to turn aggressive when provoked, which helps explain why so many brothers-in-law survive Thanksgiving without serious injury.”

Gratitude is powerful, particularly when you engage in daily practices–cultivating habits, really–because over time it changes your mind.

When you change your mind, you change your world.

And as Maya Angelou says:

“When we give cheerfully and accept gratefully, everyone is blessed.”

The last day to sign up for the course is Saturday, November 30th:

If you’re curious about gratitude practices, and want to join us in a 2-week micro course, hop over to Grace and Gratitude and sign up before tomorrow!

Normally the courses I teach run for $400 and $500. This holiday, the course is $75 (or $50 each for two), because I’m really serious about giving it away as much as possible. As I’ve done with all of my courses to date, I offer the first round at a discounted priced–I love sharing my ideas with people and believe in the value of getting this work into the world. This course is less than an hour of coaching with me–and you’ll get my love in your mailbox each day for 14 days.

I believe so much in building grace, gratitude, kindness, and acceptance into our lives. It begins with ourselves–looking inside and opening up to the fullness that’s already within our hearts.

If you know of anyone that would like to join this course with us, tell them to sign up before November 30th as we’ll start together the morning of Sunday, December 1.

The giving twist: what’s up with those gift spots?

Some people have been asking about the twist that’s part of the Grace and Gratitude workshop — the gift twist. If you buy a single space, it’s $75. But if you want to gift one to a friend, you can buy yours and the gift for a friend is $25 ($50 each for two).

I’ve done this by design. I want to give this away as much as possible.

I want people to be able to gift it to their friends and the people who need more love, grace, and gratitude in their lives. When designing the program, I though, how can we build gratitude and gifting into the program itself?

This program is near and dear to my heart. It’s closer to the work that I want to do in the world than anything else. It’s about cultivating a gratitude mindset into your life through simple, daily practices. It’s about feeling love when you’re overwhelmed and feeling lonely. It’s about helping to reframe your mind and open up mental patterns for healthy growth. It’s about learning to see the world in a new way.

It’s about getting the word out and sending love to people this holiday–the more the merrier. 

And that’s not even the best part: five gift spaces open!

More than half of the people who have enrolled have also purchased a gift for someone else–and some of the people are writing in the gift line, “GIFT FOR ANYONE” and asking me to share it with someone who wants to enroll.

If you want to join the course, five of those spaces are currently open–OPEN!–donated generously by the course participants to people who want to join the course but are bootstrapping, stuck on cash, or in a financial hardship.

If you want to join the course and would love one of these gift spaces, please fill our your name in this scholarship form by 5PM Pacific on Saturday, November 30th.

(As a quick reminder: if you can afford the course, hop over and register in the regular fashion so we can save those spots as gifts for our friends who really need it.) 

Let’s do this. I want you here. Big love. We all need more big, grateful love. Yes.

sarah signature

“The unthankful heart discovers no mercies; but the thankful heart will find, in every hour, some heavenly blessings.” — Henry Ward Beecher

“We must find time to stop and thank the people who make a difference in our lives.” — John F. Kennedy

 

What’s in the trunk? A mysterious tunnel inside the house… and some of the things I’m so grateful for.

Posted on by Sarah K Peck

Thanksgiving Trunk

What’s in the trunk?  

My dad just moved to Colorado and I’m here for the week, visiting for the first time. The cold, snowy mountains outside of Denver are filled with deer, elk, and other creatures that wander up to the backyard and say hello. (There’s also a new dog in the family that’s a giant 1-year old puppy. I really mean giant. But I digress).

As they were showing me the house, we stopped and took a look at this trunk standing up against a wall in one of the bedrooms. My stepmom cracked up when she showed it to me–“Guess what’s in it!?” 

When you open in up, the trunk is completely empty. So… what goes inside?

It turns out when you look at the bottom there’s just a hole in the floor. Or rather, it’s a verified secret chamber that they added to the house.

What the heck?

When they moved in, in addition to knocking walls and windows down and building new counters and cabinets (she’s an interior designer; she can’t help it)–she knocked a hole in the floor to create a laundry chute. When they lift the trunk lid, they  drop laundry down to the room below. Rather than leave an unsightly hole, she put this trunk over the top of it.

But that’s not the best part: take a look at what’s stenciled across the entire outside of the trunk.

On the outside, she wrote all of the things she was thankful for. (You’ll see my name on there!) Every time she does laundry, she gets to use a small piece of furniture that reminds her just how much she has to be thankful for.

How cool is that?

It’s that time of year: what are you thankful for?

Gratitude is a practice and can take hundreds of different forms. You’re probably inundated with thoughts of kindness–and that’s one of the reasons this is one of my favorite times of the year. From the breath we take to closing our eyes and appreciating the simple gift of being alive–there is so much to be grateful for. We can practice gratitude in our appreciation of the small things, by adding little rituals into our lives, and by reaching out and telling someone that you’re thankful for them. (You can learn several of these inspiring tools in our upcoming Grace + Gratitude workshop, beginning December 1).

Through these little acts, we can literally reprogram our brains. Over time, they have a huge effect.

I am thankful.

I am thankful for courage, of which the latin root (cor–) doesn’t mean bravery, but rather it comes from the latin word for heart. As Brene Brown writes, courage originally meant “to speak one’s mind by telling all one’s heart.” Courage is the act of gratitude: of speaking your heart, and letting your voice be heard.

I am grateful for my imperfections, and the grace to be able to acknowledge them each time I goof up. I am grateful for mistakes, because they mean that we’re living and moving.

I am grateful for time, and for the present. For this delicious moment. For the wonder of being here at all. (It’s really crazy if you start to think about it.)

I am grateful for experience, because it is the best teacher, even if it’s mighty uncomfortable.

I am grateful for the internet, for connecting online, for meeting so many friends who can see me more fully through my writing than I’m sometimes able to explain in person.

I am grateful for my family, a rambunctious and boisterous bunch who likes to sit on top of each other, no matter how big the house. We’ll just pile on top of each other like a football stack, dogs and cats and kids and blankets and everything.

Every day, I’m thankful for the gift of life and for living. I am thankful for breathing, which is made particularly poignant when I’ve experienced losing my breath.

I am thankful for swimming, dancing, moving, and singing.

I’m thankful for my hands, because hands are so weird and wonderful and downright cool in their digits and bends and abilities to do what we command them to do so tirelessly.

I am grateful to teach and I am thankful for all of the studying I get to be a part of in order to become a better teacher.

I am grateful for you, reading this, building a community online, being a part of this space. I cherish you and I hear from so many of you. Through you, I’ve learned how important writing is, and how telling stories—my job in this world, in this time—is for showing various ways of thinking and being and becoming and doing. For that, I’m truly humbled and grateful.

There’s so much I’m thankful for this season.

What are you thankful for this season?

And if you have a gratitude post, link it up in the comments and I’ll read it this holiday–I love reading about what you’re doing!

sarah signature

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 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,

sarah signature

 

 

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. 

Winter workshop: cultivating gratitude, opening to grace. Begins December 1. Join us.

Posted on by Sarah K Peck

ISW_GUMROAD COVER-16-9

Crack.

That moment, when your heart swells in open with thanks.

When a stranger sends you a smile and a whisper.

The unexpected brush of a hand against yours. 

The warmth of the subway air after a walk through frozen city streets. A free coffee from the barista. When a taxi driver waves you forward and lets you ride for free. Waking up a few minutes before your alarm and snuggling under the covers for those unexpected moments while you watch the sun rise. Peeling back the curtains. Holding the door for an eighty-year old woman. Letting someone else take the elevator first. Pausing.

What does it mean to cultivate gratitude?

Realizing that the world around us is far larger than the space of our thoughts. Noticing how much there is to be thankful for. Finding thanks even within the darkest, hardest times. Holding yourself and your community to the highest integrity. Bringing warm soup to strangers. Baking bread for the homeless. Giving your birthday away. Being gentle with yourself.

What does it mean to open to grace?

Grace and gratitude are paramount to building a soft heart, an open mind, and a willing vulnerability.

In the midst of a hard world and in between the demands of your daily life, it can be easy to forget. To forget how important it is to remember the bigger picture. What it’s all about. Why you’re here. What we’re really doing.

It’s a whisper inside of your soul, a reminder.

Join the new digital course: bring more Grace + Gratitude into your life.

This winter, during the holiday season, we’re opening a two-week micro workshop focused on cultivating gratitude  and opening to grace.

It begins December 1.

Two weeks of joy-delivered bundles and stunning exercises (with pages for your own reflection) delivered to your mailbox.

A breath of fresh air.

A sigh of thanks, of gratitude for being here. Being you. Right now. Where you are. Exactly as you are.

PS: It’s a micro-course. Only 2 weeks. And only $75. And only $100 if you buy want two spots. My winter gift.

Read all about the program here (or look up in the menu bar–it’s got a whole page). Sign up here.

You’ll get to learn specific exercises and tools that some of my favorite people use to cultivate a sense of wonder, awe, and joy within their every day lives.

Give yourself the gift of practicing joy. Of building gratitude.Of stepping into small reasons to remember what the holidays are really all about.

What it’s really all about.

And in the spirit of gratitude:  buy one, give one.

In the spirit of gratitude, you can sign up for the workshop for yourself, or you can buy one for you and gift one to a friend. If you want to buy an extra spot as a gift forward anonymously, write “GIFT SPACE” in the email line and I’ll save the spots for people who might be struggling this winter but would love to take the course.

Looking forward to sharing this with you.

With gratitude and thanks for you, exactly as you are.

sarah signature

 

Are you making these email mistakes? Here’s how to fix them.

Posted on by Sarah K Peck

Chess in Brooklyn

A few weeks ago I met up with a good friend of mine over wine and dinner and we got to talking about email–the number one form of communication we all use, and the fact that so many of us could do it a lot better. If you use email or any other digital medium, chances are you’re writing far more than you think you are–and your writing is what represents you.

Email is writing, plain and simple, and it often gets us into trouble.

Amber and I chatted about email, and what mistakes people often make, and how to fix those mistakes through better writing (and strategic thinking) to improve your professional (and personal) life. She was fascinated with the writer’s workshop, so over the course of a delicious glass of wine (or perhaps two), I shared with her nice ways that people often make mistakes in email. (To see the original essay, check out the Fast Company article featured earlier this Fall):

Here are nine common mistakes you might be making:

1. Sending emails only when you need something.

The best time to build any relationship is before you need something, not waiting until the moment you need something. A friend of mine gets into the habit of sending five thoughtful emails each Sunday night to check in with people who he likes, admires, or thinks of. An email might look like,

Hey, saw some great news about you—just wanted to say congratulations! I love watching what you’re up to through my various news feeds, and I wanted to send a note to say how much I hope you’re doing well.

It’s a great way to remember to reach out to folks you want to be in touch with, and an actionable way of practicing gratitude.

2. Forgetting that there’s a person on the other side of your email.

Just as you wouldn’t walk into a friend’s house for dinner and bark out a command, often those little niceties in the intro and end of a message can go a long way. Social cues aren’t dated constructs; they’re valuable warm-up phrases in communication. Start by saying hi, comment on someone’s latest achievements, and wish the other person well.

Hey stranger! It’s been a long time. If Facebook’s telling me the scoop, it looks like you had an eventful Spring…congrats on all of your successes!

3. Using the first person too much.

Many emails–and essays–are written exclusively in first person. Shift the focus to the recipient and consider what they want, need, or would like to hear. After writing an email, scan it quickly for how many times you use the word “I.” See if you can edit some of them out.

For example: “I’m teaching a new writer’s workshop this Spring, and I want help sharing the program. I think you’d be interested in it” (all “I” statements) can be turned into:

Hey, Leslie. A while back we chatted about ways to improve your writing skills–I wanted to reach out about this writing workshop for creatives that’s just launched. I thought you might enjoy taking a look. Let me know if this is what you were looking for.

4. Sending the email at the wrong time.

Just because you’ve written it now doesn’t mean it needs to be sent at this exact moment. Delaying the send is one of the most powerful and underutilized tools of emailing.

Evaluate whether or not the message is urgent and needs to be replied to immediately. If you’re cleaning up your inbox during your scheduled time, fire off the messages that are urgent and consider sending messages in the morning.

Scheduling emails to be sent in 24 or 48 hours gives you (and your clients) space to breathe between nonurgent projects, and it also sets up a rhythm of communication whereby your client no longer expects you to reply instantaneously. The more structure and parameter you give to the form of your messaging, the easier it is for the client to learn what to expect. You can either train someone to expect instantaneous answers at all times, or to learn the rhythm that’s best for you and your business.

Then, in the case of an emergency, if the client emails and you need to solve the problem straight away, you can send a quick message late in the evening or on a weekend. In this scenario, you become the hero to your client.

5. Sending to too many people.

More recipients in the “To” field does not mean that you’ll necessarily get more answers. In the age of digital marketing, people who blast messages in broadcast form without understanding who is in the “to” line can erode their chances of a message being opened. A perfect email is one that’s sent to exactly who it needs to go to, with a specified desired outcome.

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 overconnected world, or 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.

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 50 people who don’t respond (and spamming their inboxes).

6. Knowing nothing about the person receiving your email.

Do your homework on the recipient. One great tool to glean fast information about who you’re talking to is Rapportive, a sidebar that lets you see the latest public posts (and a picture) of the person you’re communicating to.

7. Forgetting to send updates or interim messages.

If you’re waiting for an important message from someone, the time spent waiting for a delivery can seem interminable. If there’s a long delay in sending an item that’s highly anticipated or expected, or you’ve experienced a few hiccups–send a one-liner email to update your receiver on the status of the project. You’ll know that you need to send a quick note when you start to get anxious about not delivering or they seem to be a bit flippant.

Sample copy:

Hey, Sarah. Just wanted to send a quick update about the delivery of our proposal. We’re set to get you something by next Friday, but we might be a few days early. Talk to you next week! Let me know if you have any questions in the meantime.
Hey, Sarah. I know we touched base last month and I’ve been far too slow in getting back to you. I’m still working through the pile on my plate, but I should have something in the next 2-3 weeks. Didn’t want to keep you guessing! Talk soon,

8. Making messages too long.

Depending on the nature of the message, emails can vary from a few words to thousands of words. The longer the email, the less likely that someone will read the entire thing. Long emails generally mean that a larger strategy, framework, or document might be in order. Some companies shift to using four-sentence emails and linking to longer pieces of work through Google Documents, Asana, or Basecamp (or other project management software).

9. Using email exclusively.

Efficiency does not necessarily mean one single system. Often, redundancy in communication can be extremely helpful, as each tool (video, chat, email, Skype) adds a layer of human nuance back into the correspondence that’s happening. Laura Roeder’s digital marketing team is distributed across multiple countries, and in order to stay in touch (and in concert with each other), they focus on “over-communication,” through the use of multiple tools at once.

Now: Four ways to focus on writing better emails:

  • Tell sticky stories. Everything makes more sense with an illustration. Highlight and example, illustrate an ideal customer avatar, or tell a specific instance of a problem you had. Setting the context and the stage (that seems obvious to you, the writer), makes it easier for people to understand the pain point, the context, and the reason why you’re writing. When people can see your story–who you are, where you come from, why you’re doing what you’re doing–it’s easier for them to become a part of it.
  • Use the four-sentence, one-link rule: Keep your email to under four sentences (or five!). Focus on the pain point or problem you’re solving. Limit yourself to only one link. If you have to, make that link a document.
  • Be responsive and reflective: Observe how others communicate and adapt your style to meet them midway. Customize your communication by mirroring the style of a received message. Does someone send short messages with formal addresses? Respond in style.
  • Bookmark emails that you love with Evernote. Use the vast number of emails in front of you (and in your inbox) as clues to great messaging. Watch what emails you open first and are most excited about. Create a few folders in your mailbox system for great introductions, sample short messages, and thank-you notes that you like. Keep these for future use if you’re ever in a bind. In any art, there’s no need to reinvent the wheel–and paying attention to great writers (and what we personally enjoy) is a great way to get started.

Email is our number one form of communication, which means that everyone is a writer. The most powerful thing you can do in both your personal and business life is learn how to write well and tell great stories. Messages that persuade, content that converts, and language that inspires action are critical for getting what you want.

What do you do? What hacks do you have to make email better (and more bearable) for everyone?