Tag: start

Routine

Posted on by Sarah K Peck

Every night, after a day’s worth of pumping milk for my baby, my husband takes the pump from my hands and washes it out in the sink with the special brush.

He shakes it dry, clean, ready for the next day. He says it’s one of the ways he can help with this job that is so much mine. It’s our routine. I pump, he cleans it up. We tuck into bed.

Every morning, after I drop the baby at daycare, I exercise. First things first. I take care of my body. Leo and I walk down the sidewalks by the park and we buzz into the daycare center. I smile and wave at him and he babbles at the daycare ladies. Morning, baby, daycare, exercise.

It’s the routine.

On the weekends, we try to make a stew in the Fall on Sundays. Leo is currently napping, I’m in flannel, writing, and Alex is in the kitchen, chopping up vegetables for a fall stew. We got one creuset deep pot at our wedding as a gift from one of Alex’s mentors, and the blue pot has been filled with stews and soups and creamy vegetables more times than we can count. We fill the pot with a stew and eat out of it as the week goes by. It feeds us and it fuels us.

We enjoy the variation and we sink into the routine.

A routine is a sequence of actions, regularly followed. It can be a routine that you follow in a dance (like a tap routine), or a series of steps you perform as part of a program. It’s often done on the regular, rather than as a special occasion.

“He settled down into his routine of writing and work.” 

“She got into the daily routine of exercise.” 

The word comes from “route,” or a regular, carved-into-the-earth way of getting there. Roads are carved from steady use and repetition. The road becomes a regular way of being.

We carve out our routines, and then our routines provide space for our craft to expand.

My little one loves having a routine. He’s out of the newborn phase (although still a baby), and thrives when he’s given regular naps and feedings. A day of good naps can be the difference between a smiley, content baby, and my fussy, crying-and-wiggling baby. Both are the same kid, on different routines.

Designed well, a routine lets me get more of what I want. I am as many words as I make space to sit down and write. If I spend all of my time thinking about what I’m going to do and when I’m going to do it, I’ve spent my time thinking, not doing. The routine lets me forget the path and get into the substance.

A routine is a way of being. How do you show up in the world? What are the patterns of your life, of your work, of your being?

More than an intention for a day, or a desire for the week, is the importance of setting up good habits. A routine is the invisible structure that lets us dig into what we want to do. Rather than rely on motivation or inspiration — we can settle into the gold that is habit formation.
This Fall, I’ve been craving routine more than anything.

Putting on and choosing (or not choosing) your clothing is a routine. In our household, we’re eliminating most of our clothing (my husband and I share a closet together — one closet, and we each have half of a dresser). We stick to a few basic outfits to stay simple. Why? Because we want to choose ideas and creativity in our work over thinking about year’s worth of clothing choices.

I exercise at the same time every day as part of a routine.

A pattern for the day, a pattern for the work, a system of organization, a structure that provides clarity — and freedom. A cadre, or a frame, can be more freeing than the idea of unlimited freedom.

By creating a routine, I can expand.

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What’s your routine? What are your habits and ways of being? This post is part of the Monthly Writing Prompts — check out October’s theme, here.
Get monthly writing prompts in your inbox by signing up for the newsletter, here.

When you’re tired, worn out, beleaguered, scared, underfed, miserable, alone: a reminder. #dosomething

Posted on by Sarah K Peck

IMG_0118

I don’t care who you pretend you are.

I don’t care so much who you
pretend you are
when you’re well fed,
well dressed,
well slept,
put together, prepared,
And so called ready…

When the polish is fresh and the face
newly painted, airbrushed layers
covering freckles, pock-marked skin
with storied layers hidden;
the script locked on papers in hand,
it’s less interesting, this version.

No, see, I care who you are when you’re
tired, worn out, beleaguered, scared,
underfed, miserable,
alone.

I want to know
who you are when you’re not
caught up in the throngs or masses
styling yourself around other idols or dreams,
chasing a relentless reality of productivity in some Western idea of
what is Good.

No, I care you you are
when your soul flutters a bit and smiles,
when it sparks at the strange language of tender raindrops on dewy skin,
shivery hairs erect in the water’s spotlight, goosebumps
whispering hello to the wind.
When your feet fight to do the darndest, weirdest things, those
“silly dreams” and things no one else thought of; and
you almost don’t let yourself think them either,
because they’re strange, different, or seem
too obvious to you.

I care who you are when the world isn’t watching,
when the lights are down and
your hair is a scattered mess and
sweat stains pool in your armpit creases and
the sour smell of unwashed skin is the forgotten leftover of
your ambition’s messy chase towards your project, the thing at hand.

I want you (you want you)
crazy, tender, raw,
different, unique, silly, strange,
whatever you-ness is you, under
all that posture, pose and pretend;

My eyes flicker with green fragments of light against the roaring
C train’s metallic brakes squeal to a grunted stop
when I see the tendrils of humanity stream
uncannily in and out of subways, trains of thought
departing from each mind into the stuffy underground air,
mixed with kiosks filled with sugar and chips and
magazines of big-bottomed ladies tantalizing the sexual fantasies of thousands,
a cesspool of potential ideas, waiting,
for ignition, for permission,
a start that begins within.

In this, this messy
pursuit and nonlinear pattern-chase of never-ending arrival,
things fall down and apart,
logic feels lost and you feel so messy that you wonder,
is this it, am I doing it right,
am I doing it right?

Because who you are then —
when the worst conspires against you —
or the doldrums of daily commuting monotony threatens to close your creativity
when you’re lost, confused, meandering, processing, contemplating, cultivating,
this, this, is the essence of your humanity.

Show me who you are
when the ladder slips, when
you miss the subway by a moment, when
your face cracks, painted black smears blurring clarity tears
on makeup-caked cheeks, showing the beneath, when
your friends leave, departed for otherworlds
or better promises, when
your project busts, your pants rip down the center seam,
your mind breaks against the weariness of repetition,
and you breathe it in anyways, and
find a smile to give the departing train, and
hug your friend a tearful departure, and
laugh at the failed pants debacle and somehow,
you pour out gratitude and kindness and
showcase the kind of humanity that
is built from resilience,
grace,
pressure.

If you can do it then,
if you do it when
it’s not easy, –hah! easy—
when it’s difficult,
my eyes shine and spark with fierce
love for you, my sisters,
my brothers,
my partners,
my fellow humans,
working in the thick of it all
to find compassion, to showcase fierce grace,
to find the love deep
in the center of it all, to be
full of life.

If you can do it when
it’s a struggle, a hustle,
you can do it any time.

there is power, grace, and love buried inside
of the fiercest form of grace;
swimming taught me this—
when you’re tired, scared, unsure, insecure, and think you can’t:

do it anyways,
do it because you have no right,
because the odds are stacked against you;
because your mind plays tricks
and tenacity builds your soul

because adversity shouts You Can’t, You Can’t,
yet you still fucking can,
so
why not,
do it anyways.

And then
go on,
do it better than the rest of them,
knowing that if you do it now,
through this,
in spite of this,

then you can do anything.

do something.

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]

Why Writing is an Act of Bravery: A Letter to Writers

Posted on by Sarah K Peck

Brene Brown Power of Life.

“Only when we’re brave enough to explore the darkness will we discover the infinite power of our life.” — Brene Brown

Writing is an act of bravery.

Each year, when I teach our writing workshops, I get to work with a small group of twenty-some writers, thinkers, and creatives. Inevitably, the process gets difficult in weeks two and week three, because I ask people to share parts of their stories—their wishes, hopes and dreams, who they are.

My students write with angst—“I’m behind! This is hard! I’m struggling!”—and I know this feeling all too well. I encourage them to continue, to press on in the face of fear or worry, and to get their pens to the page as often as possible. I am here to support, to encourage, and to push—just the right amount. Enough to get into it. Enough to push past the blocks and the barriers. Then the insights come: “Wow—I wasn’t expecting that I’d write about that,” and “That was fascinating,” and “I just got lost in a 2,000 word story and I’ve barely just begun.”

Writing is an act of bravery. Writing often means facing your own darkness and light. This is an essay for all of the students in my writing class, but it’s also an open letter to all writers, everywhere, struggling.

1. An open letter to all writers.

Dear writers:

The past few weeks have been deep, winding, and possibly full of emotions as we unpack the thoughts and ideas that have perhaps been long been locked inside of our minds. We have access to our thoughts, but not always a full understanding of them. Emotions can have such a mastery over us, and forging a relationship with your pen can help unwind parts of that. Through writing, we discover deeper truths about what we want, who we are, what we value, and the stories that we tell ourselves. Often we have to write the stories first before we can discover what it is that we’re trying to say.

For the newest of writers, I often hear that these first few exercises are somewhat surprising, bringing up past ideas and thoughts that perhaps haven’t fully percolated or settled in ways that you had thought. Often rough with emotion and tenderness, I find that writing brings up ideas and thoughts that I’m not sure how to frame, or what to say, or where to go next. It is within this context that I offer up a thought of gratitude for showing up to practice, and thank myself simply for embracing the pen and paper as a way to discover new (and existing) thoughts and ideas.

Writing is a spiritual practice, a soul-cleansing, deep-dive into the emotions and ideas we might not even be at first aware that we have.

Writing is a spiritual practice, a soul-cleansing, deep-dive into the emotions and ideas we might not even be at first aware that we have. Some days writing brings out the best in us, and other days I have to thrash through words before getting up angrily to go for a long walk, dance out my thoughts, or drown my ideas in coffee, water or wine. As we uncover the deeper truths and ideas—we become aware of who we are, and possibly the painful moments within us that have been buried for so long.

Write to discover.

Writing lets me figure out what it is that I’m thinking, by putting words onto pages and telling the story of my life, my experiences, and the world as I see it around me.

When I come back to it, I recognize patterns and ideas and realize much more about my perspectives and point of view. One of the kindest things I’ve done for myself is take the time to make space on a page, write some words down, and allow myself to come back whenever I want to talk through my ideas. Not every day is a glamorous day by any stretch, and I often struggle to sit down at the computer in the first place. In fact, it’s amazing how appealing laundry and dishes become when I’m avoiding saying the thing that needs to be said. What keeps me coming back to my practices, however, is that this is the place where I’m allowed to think what I think, write what I want to write, and tell the stories no matter how fantastical or horrible they might feel. I have permission to explore these ideas, without consequence. I can write them down. So, I write them down.

When we look at ways to talk to other people and develop communications (and stories) that teach, share, and explain—or moreover, that persuade—it often requires a deep understanding of the self, as well as a deep understanding of another person. Whether you’re a marketer trying to explain your product to an audience that could benefit from your design, a teacher trying to clarify a new idea to students, or an individual seeking understanding from a close friend or loved one, it is through our words that we take the ideas in our minds and give them shape for other people.

Words and writing are one way that we tap into our soul and ideas—words are a connection device between humans, a way to tell stories and share parts of ourselves with other people.

Words and writing are one way that we tap into our soul and ideas—words are a connection device between humans, a way to tell stories and share parts of ourselves with other people. The more we practice using our words and explaining our thinking, the larger our repertoire of sentences and stories that we can pull from to explain ourselves to other people. The more we write, the better we can teach, explain, love, persuade. Writing, as a practice, gets easier the more that you do it.

Words give us the power to share.

Writing is about bravery and courage.

“Give me the courage to show up and be seen.” — Brene Brown.

“We’ve all got both light and dark inside us. What matters is the part we choose to act on. That’s who we really are. We all have shame. We all have good and bad, dark and light, inside of us. But if we don’t come to terms with our shame, our struggles, we start believing that there’s something wrong with us –that we’re bad, flawed, not good enough—and even worse, we start acting on those beliefs. If we want to be fully engaged, to be connected, we have to be vulnerable.” —Brene Brown, Daring Greatly.

The beauty of writing, and this is true for me quite profoundly, is that we can often make our way out of suffering through the act of writing itself and often just by writing alone. It is not always the action or the striving that must be reconciled, but rather the understanding and acknowledgment of feeling itself.

As Spinoza, the philosopher, is quoted:

“Emotion, which is suffering, ceases to be suffering as soon as we form a clear and precise picture of it.” – SPinoza

In re-reading Man’s Search for Meaning, a gut-wrenching first-person account of surviving the concentration camps of Nazi Germany, Harold Kushner details the quest for meaning in his introduction to the account:

“Life is not primarily a quest for pleasure, as Freud believed, or a quest for power, as Alfred Adler taught, but a quest for meaning. The greatest task for any person is to find meaning in his or her life. Frankl saw three possible sources for meaning: in work (doing something significant), in love (caring for another person), and in courage during difficult times. Suffering in and of itself is meaningless; we give our suffering meaning by the way in which we respond to it.”

Forces beyond your control can take everything you possess except one thing, your freedom to choose how you will respond to the situation. You cannot control what happens to you in life, but you can always control what you will feel and do about what happens to you.

Writing is not just about sadness and suffering, either (and nor is life). Writing also lets us write the good things, write the ways we want to feel, and give permission to the greatness in emotion that needs as much encouragement to expand as do the emotions that make us seek understanding. Good feelings need space to expand, too. Write about all of it. Tell it.

Perhaps we are afraid of writing because we’re afraid of knowing our own story.

Writing is intimidating for so many reasons. We’re scared that we won’t capture the ideas or know what to say—and we’re afraid of what we’ll discover or become if we do pencil out those terrifying thoughts.  in your life do you feel brave or have you been brave? Perhaps your writing journey can begin with a highlights reel: describe a moment in your life when you encountered an opportunity to be brave. How did you react? What was the call to action? How long did it take you to decide to do something? How did you feel before, during, and after? What was the result? Who was changed as the result of this event?

Bravery is something different to every person.

To me, I can find it tremendously difficult to act upon one of my biggest dreams—the dream that I’m almost afraid to make real, the one that seems so simple to everyone else but me. In contrast to this seemingly simple thing, this act that everyone but me seems to find easy, I would rather jump in an ocean naked, swim a hundred miles, or work myself to the ground than admit to myself how important it is. When I discovered the extent to which I was avoiding doing the practice of my deepest dream, I wondered to myself whether or not taking steps to fulfill this dream was even brave. Did it matter that it seemed like the hardest thing in the world was getting on that bus and taking myself to the class I was so scared of? Did each of these actions—even just saying what my dream was out loud to those closest to me—was that even bravery?

Speak up for something you believe in.

The answer is yes. Speaking up for something you believe in, even if it’s just a laugh and a smile; holding your daughter’s arms, saying no with your eyes, writing about a story that hurts to tell, taking a class that terrifies you even though it doesn’t seem difficult to anyone else—this is bravery.

Write, tell the story of your life.

Thank you for reading and writing,

Sarah

 

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.

Making Money as a Creative Entrepreneur: How I Make Money, Where I Spend My Time, and What I’ve Learned From Launching My Own Ventures

Posted on by Sarah K Peck

When I was four weeks old, my mother and father took our then-family-of-four from Germany to Idaho Falls, little baby and tiny toddler in tow. We were standing around in the living room, as my mother recalls (to be be fair, I can’t recall and I certainly wasn’t standing—more likely drooling), talking about the insane temperatures sweeping in. My grandfather looked out the window at the temperature: it was minus 30 degrees Fahrenheit. Indoors, the heater warmed the house to 70 degrees.

“That’s a temperature differential of 100 degrees on either side of that glass pane,” my grandfather remarked, tall and lanky, white hair puffing out of each side of his head.

“That’s pretty impressive,” he chuckled.

Across the states, temperatures have been dropping and reeling – with 40-degree changes in mere hours as cold fronts sweep down invisible air channels and smother cities with their frozen molecules.

As a small-business entrepreneur, these temperature swings are analogous to the feast-and-famine cycle that can be all too familiar when you’re getting your business off the ground and becoming friendly with the ideas of cash flow, budgets, expenses, projections, and launches.

Dealing with the volatile ups-and-downs of entrepreneurship: it’s a bit windy out there.

Some days and months are big days full of courses sold, booked with clients, resulting in high-cash-flow months. “I’ve made it!” You think, gleefully, unwilling to look at how much you’ve spent to generate that cash flow (and just how far it really goes—because if you knew that it would only last a couple of months, you’d be back on the streets selling again the next day).

Other months are buckle-down, negative-zero income periods where you spend what money you have on resources and materials that you need (labor, equipment, time, skills)—in order to invest in and make what you want. It doesn’t matter if you’re a brick-and-mortar shop owner, an online retailer, a consultant, or a freelancer—creating a life you love involves seeking and finding customers and clients, understanding the highs and lows of business, deciding what you need to spend money on now and what can wait, and—for better or worse—’making it work.’

“Make it work!” — Tim Gunn.

So how DO you make your money as a creative entrepreneur?

What does it take to branch out and start your own side hustle, business, or creative endeavor? As a long-time “side-hustler” who started both a consulting practice and more recently an online teaching business, I’ve been invited to participate in a “blog tour” of people writing about their reflections on life as an entrepreneur.

While I still stumble over the words “entrepreneur” and “founder,” I’ve started a number of projects that have turned into profits. This month, as part of the Laser Launch Blog Party, Halley at Evolve-Succeed asked me to contribute to a collection of stories from small-business owners with all my tips for making your first and second year as a business owner fun and profitable. This post is part of a collection of essays with reflections, wisdom, and lessons from the journey it takes to become an entrepreneur.  (If you’re curious about the rest of the collection, check out the footnotes at the end of the post to see more.)

Here’s a behind-the-scenes look at what I’ve learned so far about “making it” as a creative entrepreneur. Some of the questions people ask me all the time include:

  • How are you making your money right now as a creative entrepreneur?

(Right to the point: they want to know where the money is — and I don’t blame them! Things in life cost money.)

  • What were some of the biggest surprises about starting your own business?

(Oh yes, there were plenty).

And often longingly:

  • I wish I could do whatever I wanted—do you get to just sit around in your pajamas? 

(Hah! I wish. Nope, that’s not my life right now). 

I wish I could say the last one were true — except I love learning and creating far too much to sit around all the time. In addition, the job of finding, getting, and retaining customers is a full-time job, so while I might write early in the morning in my pajamas and preferentially wear yoga pants during the day, I don’t just sit in my pajamas at home all day (and we don’t have a TV at home, either).

A quick disclaimer: I don’t have the magic recipe for everyone, but I do have a few nuggets of wisdom from learning and making mistakes along the way. Take what you will and enjoy.

Getting started (money-wise) as a creative entrepreneur:

As I shared with Brazen last month, these are the big 3 things you need to make it as a creative entrepreneur:

  • First: reduce your costs.
  • Second, save a bit of runway (emergency savings), and
  • Third, start with a side hustle to test your ideas.

People often think you need a big plan, a giant 30-point strategic framework, or have it all figured out to get going. The reality (in my opinion), is that you start small, test and iterate, and get smart about not spending too much money where you don’t need to.

First, reduce your costs — live on the cheap:

Live minimally. Gain freedom from your job by not needing the paycheck. The more expensive your lifestyle, the riskier it is to jump to something new and uncertain that could have a potentially low income at start. The more you can reduce your overhead, the less risky it is to make that jump.

“The more expensive your lifestyle, the riskier it is to jump to something new and uncertain that could have a potentially low income at the start.”

If you want to start something new or break out of a dead-end job, follow the path of the Ramen-eating hackers who live cheaply. If you live an elaborate lifestyle, you may burn through your paychecks. See how much you can cut.

Make it a game. Buy a $75 sewing machine and give up buying clothes for a year (which is something I did—and now I don’t buy new clothes very often, if ever). Learn from the family in San Francisco that lives with no trash. Eat on the cheap. Give up restaurants and alcohol for a year, or even a few months. Track all your purchases and decide whether that night out with friends or new pair of shoes is more valuable to you than your freedom.

The nomadic entrepreneurs who live around the world and work from anywhere are often working in places where the cost of living is low. They’re not somehow richer than everyone else; instead, they’ve often worked the airline systems to get thousands of frequent flyer miles and travel on the cheap. The life they’ve built is incredibly inexpensive, making the need for a giant business (and lots of possessions) unnecessary. My fiancé and I talk about and analyze ways to live with less—figuring out what we truly “need” and what makes us happiest, often discovering that things are not synonymous with happiness. The more I interview and meet people as well, the more I realize that the happiest people don’t “have it all”—they have what they want, and skip the rest.

Sound like too much to give up? Consider how much you want to leave your job or chase your business idea. What’s it worth to you? How much do you want to start this business? When you want it, you’ll make it happen.

Second, shore up your emergency savings for when you *will* have low-cash-flow months.

This is part two: save up a nest egg or a “freedom fund” while you’re on the job, if you can. Cobble together several different income streams (bartending, teaching, coaching, waitressing, and many other side hustles kept me in positive cash streams).

When I started my first job after school, I actually made less than the cost of my rent and loans. In order to make it work, I picked up two side jobs: teaching swim lessons on the weekends and tutoring high school students in the evenings after work by posting an advertisement on Craigslist as a geometry and algebra tutor. That extra $200 a week was my savings and food budget, and I was able to save a little bit each month—and eat. [tweetable hashtag=”@sarahkpeck #money #freedom http://dev.sarahkpeck.com/money”]To get started on your next project, create a freedom fund.[/tweetable]

After a year, I had saved $4,000 on the side from little side jobs. It was just the cushion I needed for the next step: several months where I used that same night and weekend time to concentrate on tweaking my side business endeavors. Soon I started making thousands of dollars on the side.

More recently, I left San Francisco to head to New York to start my next business adventures. To make it happen, I sold my car for $12,000 and had about the same amount in liquid cash savings that I was willing to use towards building my next set of projects. I also tested the projects I wanted to build in advance, demonstrating that people were willing to buy what I wanted to make—and then, not leaving until cash flow was positive and knowing that the buffer funding was there for the variant months of lower-than-expected income (or higher-than-expected costs).

In an ideal world, you’ll have about a 6-month buffer so you don’t work month-to-month, but in the real world, you do the best you can. Nearly every one I’ve talked to has said it takes longer than they expect to generate consistent income—so that cash savings helps during the buffer months when you’re making money—but not as much as you need. [tweetable hashtag=”@sarahkpeck #money #truth http://dev.sarahkpeck.com/money”]The less your life costs, the longer the money lasts.[/tweetable]

The lower your expenses, the longer you can stretch your savings. If every paycheck goes straight to paying your expenses, consider taking on a small side job to boost your income, even while building your project.

Third: build it as a side hustle, if you can.

Does it make more sense to start your business from scratch or build it as a side hustle?

I recommend that everyone have a side hustle. It’s called moonlighting, and it’s a great way to test whether something you want to do is feasible. For some it’s a paper route or a nail salon job; for others, it’s taking care of elderly on the weekends, for me, it was teaching swim lessons and tutoring high school kids. It’s a great space to make a little side money, keep your options open, and develop your skills in a particular area when you’re thinking of changing careers.

[tweetable hashtag=”@sarahkpeck http://dev.sarahkpeck.com/money”] The best time to try out your new project is now.[/tweetable]

Test the market viability by seeing if there’s any traction for your ideas, and tweak each iteration a bit to improve the offering. Perhaps you want to start a side culinary and health business. Set up evening showcases on the weekends for friends and family and let people know you’re doing a cooking class at a discount to raise awareness. Pitch your services to local vendors. Offer to teach at a high school. Spread the word about private lessons.

After a couple of months, reevaluate and see if you’ve made a profit. Tweak your project to build something people want that you also enjoy doing. If you need to, stay home and do things no one else is doing to make it work.

How do you know it’s time to finally take the leap?

There are times when you need to make the leap without a nest egg, without changing your costs, and without a plan. This happens, and people make it work. Sometimes the intensity of the jump forces laser-like clarity and an immediate reduction in expenses. But [tweetable hashtag=”@sarahkpeck http://dev.sarahkpeck.com/money”]if your goal is to set out on your own by next summer, start building your business and reducing your overhead right now.[/tweetable]

Most folks running their own businesses and building the life of their dreams are always in the process of doing that — running and building. These are active verbs, which take time, energy and innovation. It’s not about pulling all-nighters or creating an endless stream of energy; it’s about being smart about building something a little bit at a time.

People who are working on new projects or problems aren’t immune to risk. But they’ve mitigated potential risks by using strategic tools, building up their savings, creating clever cost-saving lifestyles and forming plans to tweak their systems to get what they want.

Leave your job when you need more space in your business or venture and when you have a few leads. I knew it was time to head out on my own after I made almost half of my full-time income on the side—I decided to trust that if I put my day-time energy into my side-hustle, that I’d be able to make up the difference. I also kept trying to get my expenses down to make it easier to make the transition.

If you can save a little, cut your costs, and test your ideas on the side, you’ll be excited about what’s ahead because you’ll have already planned for the risks and confirmed that project has the potential for success.

How I started teaching online and in-person:

I’ve always loved teaching and coaching—from one-on-one tutoring in high school to assistant teaching in graduate school. After I left school, I kept teaching by signing up for workshops and events and volunteering my time to run events.

I started teaching on the side—in the evenings and on weekends—by putting up an advertising on Craigslist as a tutor, by pitching conferences and workshops as a workshop leader, by running lunchtime events at my company, and by reaching out to places like General Assembly, Skillshare, and Udemy to work with them. As I built both my teaching experience and reputation over several years, I was able to test my curriculum, build ideas, practice presenting, and later teach more through my own website.

What if you have savings and a side hustle, but you like your job? When did you know it was the right time to quit your job?

I liked what I did in my day job—I got to manage the communications and work on our marketing efforts at a 200-person architecture firm. It had it’s own challenges and entrepreneurial endeavors—we created a new blog, redesigned a website, and launched a journal from scratch, and I got to work with some of the most respected names in landscape architectural design. It was intense, demanding, and rigorous. 

Yet I knew I needed to leave when I got too tired I couldn’t see straight, and when enough people were asking me for what I had—and I couldn’t answer their responses quickly enough during my night hours.

(It was also convenient that my then-boyfriend and I decided that living in the same city might be nicer that cross-country dating, so the universe conspired to get me to head out to New York. Life tells you to move and change, if you’ll listen to the call). 

Financially, I knew it was the right time to work for myself when I was able to draw clients, fill up my classes on a regular basis, and when I wanted to chase the next challenge in front of me.

What do you do now as your business—how do you make money?

Ahh yes, the money question. (I suppose I thought I could get away with not answering this!)

I do three things: I run a teaching and media company (SKP Media), I consult, and I coach. From time to time I take on additional creative and collaborative projects as well—depending on what needs to be made in the world, how much time I have, and how exciting (read: “Hell Yes!”) the project is and the people are.

SKP Media is the bulk of my current time and energy. It’s where I teach writing workshops, content strategy workshops, and my newest course—Grace and Gratitude, a two-week course on cultivating kindness and gratitude in your life. We have sold-out (and over-sold) each of the courses, and during teaching months I spend a fair amount of time interacting with participants, reading and grading, running the program, and researching new examples to share with the crew.

This is where I spend about half my time, and it brings in about half of my yearly business income. With this business income, I invest in teaching equipment, the fees and hosting charges for each of the platforms I use (in addition to processing fees), pay taxes, hire a teaching assistant, and collaborate with a number of other freelancers (like proofreaders, web designers, and graphic designers)—who help get everything up and running. It’s important to note—business revenue is not the same as income, by any means. If my business is making $60,000, I might only be paying myself $30,000 depending on the variables of expenses. So reducing your expenses and living costs is a great way to help in the early stages of building.

In addition, I consult from time to time with clients who are interested in publishing, writing, content development, and social media movements—my typical clients are people interested in developing their own thought leadership platforms, need help running a multiple-month PR campaign, or want help understanding and developing their social media and content strategy.

I also take on a select number of coaching clients if there’s space in the schedule, but I’ve been keeping this part of my business quite small as I ramp up the teaching and media company, which is taking up the majority of my time at the moment.

It should also be noted that not all time is spent on activities that make money directly—writing, for example (such as this post) isn’t something that necessarily generates a lead or a sale directly, but takes a fair amount of time. Learning how to balance business-generating activities with other activities that don’t directly generate income (writing, social media posting, meeting people at conferences)—is a balancing act, and one that’s been subject to a lot of finessing.

What else do you spend your time on?

The above strategies for how I earn my income and spend my time add up to about 60-70% of my time—but I spend a fair amount of time writing, as well (as much as 30-40% of my time, if I’m lucky).

I write about 100,000 words on this blog and my essays annually, and I write an additional 30-40,000 words for each of the various program platforms I create as well, which doesn’t include the amount of writing that’s left on the cutting room floor when I go back to edit and revise.

Each morning I get up early and write, for as much time as I have time in my schedule. (Some days are booked solid with client and teaching work, so my writing window is from 7-8:30AM before my day gets off to a roaring start). Other days are luxurious when I spent 7AM—11AM writing, before getting in to begin my work. I still have a habit of writing on Friday evenings and Saturdays, as those times are “me” times that are often undisturbed by regular work calls.

There are other parts of my life that take up significant portions of time — sleeping, eating, meeting with people face to face, yoga teacher training, traveling — but this list is focused on what I do in my business life.

What about you? Do you have any other questions about making money as a creative entrepreneur?

What have you done that’s worked? Do you have any advice for small-and medium sized business owners that would be helpful?

Leave a note in the comments! 

For more from this series on entrepreneurship, small-business success, and business wisdom, check out the posts going live this month over at Evolve and Succeed. 

 

 

The Celebration Jar: An Alternative to Meaningless Gift-Giving

Posted on by Sarah K Peck

I splurged and went shopping recently. Like, real shopping–whatever “real” means. (Isn’t the act of spending a day inside of a privately-owned mall slightly strange?)

I did things I hadn’t done in years. Wandered through big-box stores, large crowds, jingly Santa Clauses, screaming children, and wafting Cinnabon flavorings fuming into the crowded halls to make parents miserable. (I lasted about two hours– the smell and the onslaught of horrible stimulation gave me a headache within a few hours).

And I bought stuff. It was kind of delicious, scrumptious, and wonderful.

Warm winter jacket for New York? Check. It’s down, its fluffy, it’s got zippers, it’s got pockets, and it keeps me warm every day in this snowy season. Neon running outfit? Check. Running in the snow. Yes, yes, yes.  

While I’m not one for huge purchases or shopping–I’d rather scrounge in Goodwill for some third-hand shirts I can mend up and call my own– sometimes it’s nice to buy a thing or two.

But when is the right time to buy, and when is the right time to remember that you already have everything you need?   

1. For me, minimalism isn’t about restriction or restraint. It’s about freedom and joy.

It’s about not drowning in stuff—and knowing what you need. It’s about remembering that shopping isn’t the answer to your sadness, and that gifts don’t replace love.

One of my favorite quotes of all time reminds me of what I strive for:

Twitter-Bird Social_Media_Icons_CtrlAltDesign_V2-19“The antidote to consumerism isn’t minimalism–it’s art.”

So as you’re winding through your December journey into the advertising-laden world of spending and celebrating, consider how you’re spending and what you really intend behind your season of gifts. Is it made with love? Is it sent with love? And, if it’s coming into your house, is it ART?–is it something you will cherish, love, and adore? Then yes.

But it’s not even about gifts or things. One of my favorite ways to celebrate the holidays–beyond the delicious new coat that I got–is to remember what I already have that I love.

And, as a gift from me to you, here are ways I love thrifting–and putting a twist on–the season of gifts:

2. The celebration jar: wrapping up all your celebrations.

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We’ve been talking a lot about presents in my house, mostly because I’ve got so much stuff and I don’t need more of it–I need less of it. But I adore celebrating the seasons and celebrating each other. I also love gifting.

So we pulled out a jar–a vase. We wrapped a bow on it. I ripped up some old paper bags and we started scrawling things we’re happy for and grateful for. Each item gets its own note.

We fill up the jar for two weeks. We’ll open it on Christmas. (You can do this Christmas week, if you’d like, or pick a day to fill the jar and pick a day to empty the jar.

On our Christmas day, we’ll unwrap things we love–things like:

I love that you make the bed every morning.
My new warm jacket keeps me warm and toasty during New York winters.
Being able to see my family.
Morning snuggles on weekend days (and some weekdays, too!).
Knowing my neighbors.
A reading nook to read early in the mornings. 

What are you grateful for?

What can you celebrate this holiday–that you already own?

3. Things you can do and ways you can love–beyond traditional gifts: 

  • A card of all the things you love about someone.
  • A hand-written letter or gratitude card.
  • Date night and a home-cooked meal (also great for friends!).
  • Sauna night or gym night–pick a friday, go to the gym, soak in the baths, have conversations.
  • Movie night. Even cheesy or terrible movies.
  • Coupons or gift certificates for services, even of your own doing. (I used to give my mom coupon books for cleaning the kitchen and vacuuming the house all the time).
  • Books (see my list, below).
  • A reservation for a night away in a cabin for New Year’s.
  • A celebration ceremony with a gratitude jar.
  • A date for visioning, journaling, and planning during the new year.
  • A massage or a back rub for friends that are working hard.
  • A buddy yoga class–head there with your friend.
  • Donating food to those in need.
  • Spending time or volunteering at a homeless shelter
  • Volunteer for youth. (I’m donating time to my yoga studio’s Lineage Project–a volunteer project that serves incarcerated youth in New York City.

4. But gifting is fun! (You bet it is!) That’s why I also made a short list of alternative gifts for the loves on your list.

Gift-giving can also be wonderful. Want some great ideas for gifts? Here are my favorite ideas of things to get–if you’re a thing-getter. Perhaps an investment in your self, your soul, your brain, your body, or your well-being is the best way to go. Some ideas to fuel your inspiration:

  • The Desire Map by Danielle LaPorte: Start with the book ($22) and a workbook if you’re the kind of person who hates writing in books ($12). Grab a day planner if you’re feeling like you want to re-invent 2014. Write all. over. it. Dedicate January to revealing your feelings and starting the year with a bang.
  • The January Joy-Up with Hannah Marcotti ($29). A magic-making mastermind with daily collage and journal prompts. It’s $29. I’m already signed up and I’ve ordered a set of extra-large moleskines precisely for the act of visioning in January. I’m stacking up books, glue, and scissors (and a cutting mat!) so I can dream, dream, dream. I want to dream of speeches, books, essays, weird multi-media projects, business dreams, life dreams, and all of the other beautiful things we can manifest in our lives. Because thinking makes it possible.
  • The Joy Up Equation with Molly Mahar of Stratejoy ($149). This woman is gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous. So many women I know are. I am grateful to the internet for connecting me to them. With her, you’ll listen to your soul, journal for a month, discover more of who you are, figure out what brings you joy. (Pick one of the above and get INTO it already! Your life is waiting!)
  • The Writer’s Workshop: The January Edition. (My course, of course!) Our third cycle starts January 13th. A four-week course with our own private community, video lessons, weekly writing assignments, and heaping doses of honesty and inspiration. The course is $400 if you register before December 28th–$500 for regular registration. Take a class as your holiday gift. (PSST: Watch for a wicked sale coming out Friday, December 20th.)
  • The Content Strategy Course: A new course I’m teaching this February 17th–how to develop content and storylines for thought-leaders. Jam-packed with marketing wizardry, communication templates, and ways to get your voice heard. It’s also $400 as early-bird registration ($500 regular). (OH: And I’m announcing some CRAZY discounts Friday for the rest of 2013 if you’ve been itching to take courses with me. Pay attention.)
  • The Holstee Reclaim Frame ($44) and Art Subscription or Mindful Living Calendar — a new card each month that you slide into the frame, pulling out the previous one as a reminder to send a note to someone. (A great way to practice gratitude!).
  • Inquiry Cards ($25). A new form of meditation–in the form of questions for you to ponder and consider. Great for spiritual healers, coaches, visionaries, or anyone with an inkling to look… inwards.
  • YOUR version of freedom–whatever that means to you. Maybe it means nothing, maybe it means something, maybe it means savings. It’s your money. You choose. Do what’s right for you. These are just ideas.

A note of love, too: spend money consciously. Choose wisely. Whenever I purchase something, I also plan for the amount of time I’m committing to doing the project. Sometimes I know I don’t have enough time, but I sign up anyways because I want the taste of a few days. Other times I’m gunning for financial freedom and bigger goals, so it’s “nope, not this time.”

Do what’s best for you.

The point isn’t about just having to give something (or get something). It’s about giving with love, nurturing yourself, and remembering the spirit of the holidays.

Choose wisely, spend lovingly.

5. And…I’ll probably never be minimalist about books:

You caught me. I love books so much. (This is my current Amazon Book Wish List, and yes, you can totally buy me a book — I’d be honored).

I’ve read several books this year and last year that have been absolutely phenomenal, and I’m working on a master list that you can reference. Right now, I’ll whittle it down to my favorites, a sneak peak:

Philosophy and Spirituality:

  • When Things Fall Apart
  • The Untethered Soul
  • The Gifts of Imperfection
  • The Four Desires

Business:

  • Jab Jab Jab Jab Right Hook
  • The Small Business LifeCycle
  • Body of Work
  • Leaders Eat Last
  • The Sketchnote Handbook
  • The Year Without Pants
  • Growth Hacker Marketing
  • 99U: Maximize Your Potential

Fiction (or Narrative Non-Fiction):

  • Cuckoo’s Calling
  • The Fault in Our Stars
  • The Glass Castle
  • Behind the Beautiful Forevers
  • The Longest Way Home
  • Bend, Not Break
  • Ender’s Game

See more of my book list here: Sarah’s big beautiful book list of joy.

5. Even though I’m fairly minimalist when it comes to some things–I still love everything about gifting, celebration, and surprises of kindness.

So, par for the course: free book giveaways for the holidays!

I love giving things away. Actually, I love giving YOU things. There’s surprise and delight in gifting and telling people that you have a present for them.

Here’s what I have this month to give away to three of YOU:

  • The Sketchnote Handbook, by Mike Rohde (print version).
  • The Untethered Soul, by Michael Singer (kindle version).
  • The Power of Habit, by Charles Duhigg (kindle version).

What should you do to win one of these books?

Leave a note in the comments–and do it by December 28th, midnight, EST. Tell me what you’re grateful for this holiday season. Surprise me.

With big holiday love,

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Your job is to create.

Posted on by Sarah K Peck

Your job is to create something in this world. With your human hands, your brain, your vision, your dreams, your desires.

Make something.

Make something with your mind, with your hands, with your heart.

Put ingredients together and craft a batch of bread. Fold paper origami cranes. Make ideas come to life through words and speech. Build a bench. Take a painting class, a wood shop class, a soap-making class, an engineering class. Plant a flower bed. Grow herbs by your kitchen sink. Fix a squeaky wheel with WD-40. Paint a door.

You are the experiencer of the world, and it feeds you and fills you with rich materials for processing, making, and considering. You get to respond by putting your touch on the things and words and ideas you make in the world. You get to make your version of your thoughts with the matter and substance of the world.

Use your voice. Use your mind. Use your hands.

Create.

Creating is magic.

Tweet: Your job is to create.

(Pssst! If you want to create beauty and magic with your words, and spend time learning more about storytelling, writing + dreaming up beautiful ideas, join us as we begin round #3 of our Writer’s Workshop. The four-week journey begins January 13th.)

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What have you done to take care of you?

Posted on by Sarah K Peck

The line between happy and crazy is very thin. The distance between joy and depression is fragile.

A short story.

“What are you doing tonight?” He asked.

“I think I’m going to write, do some yoga, drink some lemon tea, and try to head to bed early–I’m a bit tired.” It had been a long day. Or rather, weekend. I’d been writing nonstop and I stayed up too late trying to do too many things.

He laughed. “A lady who loves working, yoga, and sleep–what a beautiful dork. But honestly, the fact that you love taking care of yourself is kind of a turn-on…”

“No, seriously,” I replied. “I need movement, sleep, and good food to keep me happy. It’s just a short distance to crazy and depressed if I get those things out of whack.”

It’s a dance, he replied. That thin line of health and happiness keeps moving, and we keep dancing with it. Life is change, and we take the tango in stride, learning how to keep ourselves filled with gratitude, joy, and wonder.

Sometimes it’s about the simplest things–getting good food, and good sleep–and that makes all the difference.

Despite knowing this, it consistently amazes me how poorly I take care of myself. I’ll miss workouts in the name of more laptop time, I’ll forgo good sleep, and I’ll pretend that coffee is a substitute for adequate rest.

Sometimes the most difficult thing seems to be taking are of myself.

Our first job is to take care of ourselves. To love ourselves. To nourish and fill ourselves up with healthy food, healthy thoughts, and rest so that we may be of maximum value and service to those around us.

What are you doing to take care of yourself today?

Leave a note in the comments, below, and tell me what you’ll do today!

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.