an argument for creating more and worrying less

I am desperate for the enrichment of the everyday. I don’t just want the sun to shine, I want it to devastate me with it’s glow. I don’t just want that food to nourish, I want it to embolden me deep in my bones. When people talk about life’s meaninglessness, I edge toward angry defiance because I know there's depth in every moment.

But there are days when I sit and stare at Facebook for two hours straight with a numbed mind that borders on comatose. So, you know, we all have our ups and downs.

We exist in a constant state of flux that, if we’re honest, causes us to see eighty different variations of living one day. This fluctuation shakes things up for us because it seeps into the one thing that’s supposed to be reliable - our work. Our day jobs and night jobs and gigs and contracts. Eventually, our body of work feels like a living organism that breathes in the limitless elements of this world and exhales a combination of those elements that doesn’t always make sense. A blog post here, a gig there, a day job we love, one we hate, sitting at a desk, building a start-up. All of these things materialize into something that resembles us, but we can’t quite see the through-line. And this is where my conversations have led me lately:

How do we manage all the things we are?

Everyone is well aware that very few people nowadays have one job for a lifetime. The economy has made sure of that. And with the way social media has started to drive business (every kind of business), we have better access to each other and more chances to define exactly who we are. And define we will because we know that if we’re not very clear, who we are gets lost in the shuffle. But beyond these imposed social profiles and strict definitions, there is a small hum inside our guts that tells us: there’s more. Not just more to get done and more to add to your plate, but more down deep. More of the good. More where that came from.

Right now, I have three main paths. I’ll call them paths for now because one makes me money, one will make me money, and one may never make me money. But nonetheless, they are my life’s work every day. So, three paths. Incredibly different. They feed each other now and then, but they require access to different parts of me. And this reconciling is what gets me tied up in knots. This piecing together of those different parts is where my mind starts to spasm.

However recently, I have been mulling over Steve Jobs’ famous quote about connecting the dots. I never really understood why it was so significant for so many people. I used to think, right, of course we don’t know how anything is going to work out yet, we can’t predict the future. This is not profound. But when I re-read this, I finally picked up on why this advice is crucial:

“You can’t connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something – your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. Because believing that the dots will connect down the road will give you the confidence to follow your heart even when it leads you off the well worn path; and that will make all the difference.”

When we are balancing our eight different potential paths, we feel lost. Am I going to end up doing this? Or that? Or a combination of the two? Is this really who I’m supposed to be? But when we realize that whatever that generator is that is humming in our bones is exactly who we are “supposed to be” because it’s exactly who we are, we can see that the type of work we do is less important than simply committing to doing the work. In other words, if our message is being transmitted out into the world, the vehicle is secondary.

Director, painter, musician, and meditator David Lynch says this about the different ways he will make a film:

“See, a painting is much cheaper than making a film. And photography is, you know, way cheap. So if I get an idea for a film, there are many ways to get it together and go realize that film. There's really nothing to be afraid of.”

He’s not attached to the film. He’s attached to the transmission. He’s attached to creating and communicating. He has developed a body of work that on paper seems to be a thrown together collection of hobbies, but in real life, is an intricate and logical plan that allows him to constantly create without the fear of having to “give anything up.” The dots are connected because the body of work is connected to him.

How do we manage all the things we are? By always doing the work. That hum in your gut won’t go away until you communicate it. Instead of trying to manage it, we might be better served by releasing all of our anxieties about the type of work we “should” or “shouldn’t” be doing, and getting ferociously committed to communicating that ebb and flow that exists in all of us. We might finally see the bigger picture, create the balance, and connect the dots by just going ahead and letting ‘er rip.

When do you clearly see your through-line, if at all?

all images via Pinterest

why being wrong is good

Admitting when you're wrong sucks. I hate it. Generally, when I'm not right about something I get this itchy, twitchy, fidgety feeling that makes me either want to run away, deny the crap out of the situation, or aggressively defend myself until I'm blue in the face. In other words, I don't like sitting in it. I feel this sense of panic come over me because I have this equation in my head that says if I'm wrong then I'm un-lovable. And yet, if a friend came to me and said, "Hey Court, turns out I'm super wrong about something and I feel like an incapable mess," I'd say to them, "Sounds like you're human. Where should we go for lunch?"

What is this attack mechanism we have with ourselves? Why does being right or wrong "count" so much to us? Why do we expect to travel through life making all the right moves at all the right times? That is ridiculous. And yet, in this moment, I'm sitting in a big, heaping stew of wrongness and I feel like a mess.

However, I'm also sitting in a big, life-definining moment of introspection. A long and arduous year of introspection to be exact, and so I can see a little bit more clearly where the edges of my right/wrong fallacy don't quite add up. I can see how being wrong, albeit painful, is a sort of... gift.

When you're wrong, you have just found out what's right. Or what's closer to right. You've gotten information, facts, a bigger sense of the picture, a foundation to springboard from, in a word: clarity. You can sweep what didn't work out the door and start working with the pieces that do work. Progress.

When you're wrong, you have just found out more about your desires. If you take a minute and think about why you so heftily defended your wrongness, or what made you think that way in the first place, or what you were craving by trying to convince yourself you were right, you can get to the bottom of some hidden gems. You get to know your feelings. And when you get to know how you want to feel, well hot damn, you can start making the moves that actually line up with your true nature.

When you're wrong, you have the opportunity to connect with love. It's tres easy to say, I told you so. It's also very easy to defend yourself at all costs. But when you're wrong and you can sit with that for awhile, you practice self-love. When you are generous with forgiving yourself, there is a well of energy that will emerge and connect you to those around you; you'll fill them with love, you'll feel a lot of tenderness. When being wrong means the opportunity to dig into your isolation and connect with the rest of the world, it's just not that bad.

So let's go get lunch.

How do you feel when you know you're wrong?

all images via Pinterest

15 things i learned from running a 15k

I never liked running. I never understood road races. And I definitely never bought into the culture of marathons. But when my sister-in-law, Megan, asked me to do a race with her and my husband started giving me some tips on how to run better, I found myself all signed up for a 15k - that's 9.3 miles - in Prospect Park, Brooklyn last Sunday.

So now, on the other side of the race, medal in hand, and having nailed my personal record for distance (with not a shabby pace I might add), color me converted. 15 kilometers taught me (at least) 15 things that I hadn't thought running would teach me.

1. Doing what you say you're going to do is powerful. Following through for other people isn't too hard for a people-pleaser like me - but following through for myself? Now that's something I fall way short on. When I signed up for this race, there was part of me that didn't believe I was actually going to do it; so much so that I didn't really train for it. But when I said I would do it and did it, something registered. Something said, you just stepped into your real power: there is now integrity in the words you say to yourself. Meaning for better or worse, my inner voice carries a lot more power.

2. Creating a community will make you thrive. I never really got the culture of running because it seemed like everyone was so separate. On Sunday, there was nothing like taking the nine mile journey with a partner, and then hearing someone who had just finished their own race yell "You're almost there - you're doing it!" Creating a community means you are seen, and when you feel seen, trust me, your legs move a lot faster. Community can be major fuel.

3. Surprising yourself is way better than protecting yourself. I have a tendency to play it safe. I was scared of this race because of getting injured and not being able to train my clients. Listen, yes, you have to pay attention to your body - but the fact that my legs carried me 2.5 times around Prospect Park's hills and valleys surprised me and that felt way better than knowing for sure that they would.

4. The journey feels really good. My legs hurt, my hips hurt, my back started to tighten and it felt awesome. I felt the journey in my body, and it felt like I was building my accomplishment step by step. It reminded me about the small victories every day: the little changes that amount to growth, the healthy decisions that turn into a longer and happier life, the laughter that creates a lifetime of joy.

5. Self talk is everything. I could have run the race thinking there's no way I can do that hill three times. But I ran it thinking, I only have three times to conquer that beast. It kept me light, easy, and more powerful. If I had let one negative thought creep into my skull, I would have walked or worse, not had any fun at all. Metaphors for life, people.

6. Acknowledging accomplishments is part of being present. When Megan and I hit each new mile we gave each other a high five. We might be in the middle of the hill, a long way out from the finish line, or just about to cross it, but we acknowledged how far we had come each time we hit the mile marker. It reminded me that being grateful for all the things that you have already accomplished is the foundation you need to keep accomplishing.

7. When you connect to something bigger than yourself, you grow into it. I felt like this race was so much bigger than me because I had never done one before. Now I get it and I want to do another, and another, and another. It was outside of my comfort zone and because I committed myself to something bigger, my drive, excitement, and energy grew bigger with it.

8. Perfect circumstances are bullshit. When you run next to people twice your age who are lapping you, you realize you have no excuse. The people with terrible form, slow pace, no partner to run with, they are all doing it. No one shows up on race day assuming the circumstances are going to push them past the finish line, they assume they'll figure out a way and just get it done.

9. Our bodies are meant to be used. Our bodies are amazing. Testing our limits and going beyond what we think is possible inevitably gives us proof that we can handle so much more than our minds will admit. Think you can't? Well your body can. Just get your mind out of the way and lace up.

10. Happiness comes from doing, not thinking. Thinking about the race made me nervous and made me want to throw up a little in my mouth. Running the race made me feel powerful, lit up, and strong. Thinking about doing something isn't the same as showing up to it and committing with your whole heart, mind, and body. And doing that made me feel eight hundred times more awesome than imagining it did.

11. The best time is always now. I barely trained, but did it anyway. Disclaimer: I'm NOT advocating this. I don't think you should do that. I think you should train your body to handle the challenge. I'm only saying that if there is a choice between going for it or not, go for it. Why wait for anything? Why wait to travel or run or say I love you or just go for what you want? There will never be a better time than now.

12. Crossing the finish line is change. Crossing that finish line changes you into someone who did it. It is proof that your body and mind have the power to accomplish something difficult. Once you have proof, you can never go back.

13. Forgetting yourself is living in your own skin. Sometimes I want so badly to get my validation from outside of myself. Okay, not sometimes, most of the time. I'm working on it, but what I realized during the seventh mile or so is that all that mind chatter melts away when you forget yourself and just do what you're setting out to do. Anxiety and worry don't matter much when your legs are burning and you're inching closer to your goal, you just drop in and get the work done. And usually, the work turns out to be much stronger anyway. Losing yourself is finding yourself.

14. Working out is about the heart. You can never approach your workouts any other way because it's just never true. No matter what you do for your body, it is always, always, always connected to your heart.

15. We carry stories in our bodies - so what do you want to tell? Everything is a story. It's a story to say, I'm not someone who runs. I'm not someone who works out. I'm not someone who can actually be healthy. We make those stories up, and those mind stories turn into body stories. Where do you want to be when you get to the end of The Big Race? Do you want your body to have carried the story of endurance, and belief, and joy, and gratitude, and wonder? Then start telling yourself that story every day, connect it to your heart, and put your feet on the pavement.

What has running taught you?

the scary truth about distractions

I have been navigating through a really really real struggle with distractions lately - and not just the pernicious kinds of distractions like social media. I'm talking about slipping so far down into the unconsciousness hole that I'm barely recognizable even to myself. Sound dramatic? Well, it is. But, that's because it is. It's not particularly worth it to divulge all the ways in which I've been self-sabotaging, but I think it is decidedly important to say that distractions are dangerous. No, not irritating, not annoying; they carry pure, unadulterated danger. Again, dramatic. And here's why: when you go too far down the distraction highway, you end up somewhere that often looks nothing like where you wanted to travel. You start saying things that don't make any sense, because you aren't considering, you aren't responding, you're simply reacting. You even begin to wear things that make you feel like you're in a coma - just the standard old combination "because I'm too busy to make a choice," you think to yourself.

Of course, the only way to stop being so distracted is to lift the veil off of whatever you're trying to distract yourself from. For me, my distraction was work. I was/am working all the time, and I'd create more work for myself to distract myself from the fact that I feel the constant need to prove myself. There's this attitude in New York that assumes you have to be running yourself ragged in order to make any success manifest. So I wasn't sleeping, eating terribly, never taking time for myself, and certainly not aware of my interests. Sounds successful, right...

Distractions are the mind's way of staying safe, plain, and average.

Distractions keep you small, blinders on, ignorant to life on the outside.

Distractions make you fat, sometimes.

Distractions make you sad, sometimes.

Distractions kill creativity.

Distractions keep you bored.

Distractions keep you isolated.

Distractions are not play or rest, they are soul-suckers.

To immediately snap out of the zombie-like state I often find myself in, I've been choosing to take the road less traveled. Here's what I've been working:

I assume I have no idea what anyone is talking about. This one is tough for me because I tend to be a know it all, but when I just assume I have no idea - I start listening more intently, getting a little more curious, and responding consciously. It's a win-win for everyone.

I meditate instead of eat. I love food so so much. If I have a choice between booze and dessert, it's always dessert. But I have been noticing that I usually just eat out boredom, or sadness, or loneliness, or for security. Instead of deciphering my emotions, I hide them under layers of snacks. So, recently when I've been craving a bowl of sugary cereal I stop and meditate for a few minutes. I let my mind go as blank and still as it can get and feed myself that way. If the hunger persists afterwards then, sure, I'll put some food in my body, but by that time I realize that what I want is nourishment not a quick fix and I go for something more substantial.

I keep working without editing as I go. This is my worst creative mistake - editing as I'm working. I'm working on two rather large projects at the moment and if I stopped and started every single time I thought I needed to readjust a sentence, I would never get anything done. Usually, I don't have a good eye for an edit until I've left it for awhile, but it needs to exist first! In the [paraphrased] words of Anne Lamott, I just need to get a shitty first draft down on the page.

I ask myself this question: Does this make me feel powered, lit up, or vital? Those are the feelings that over time I have discovered are actually how I want to feel. In my career, my marriage, my friendships, my subway commute, I want to feel powered, lit up, and vital. And call me crazy, but I'd like to feel that as much of the time as possible. If I'm working on something or zoning into something that makes me feel anything other than that - I ask myself if it is really worth it. If it's not a hard yes, it's usually a no. Pack it up. Move on out.

Putting the distractions down can be as easy or as difficult as you make it. But my guess is, whatever distractions do for you now - whether it's cover up real feelings you need to feel or tough decisions you need to make - showing up wide awake to yourself every day is going to make you feel a whole hell of a lot better.

What do you do to stay focused?

All images via Pinterest.

instructions for success: stop.

It’s amazing how much we fit into one day. Finding the empty corners to fill, the vacant shadows to brighten, the deep breaths to cover over with words, and texts, and scrolling. It almost seems necessary - in order to move forward, we feel we need to keep moving.

I am always compelled by pioneer stories of perseverance and tenacity and the ten-year-overnight-success. Those people, digging in the trenches at all hours when everyone else had closed up shop or thrown in the ragged towel, inspire me to breathe a lot of life into a lot of dreams. But there is this dark underbelly that we have got to get realistic about:

We need to rest.

It seems luxurious, right? Taking a nap. Taking a walk. Taking a minute. Even that word - taking - makes rest seem gratuitous. Like it’s an extra, or something that doesn’t already exist in us, but something we will pick up along the way if we’re lucky or worthy.

Recently at work, I’ve been talking with my beautiful, driven, badass co-workers about getting up early to teach on those dark, misty mornings and, even though we know our bodies need it, how it’s so hard to just take a nap later on in the day. Why is this such a struggle?

We have this idea in our heads that if we are not in constant motion, physical or mental, we are somehow letting our light die. We convince ourselves that if we are taking some time away to just slow down, we are giving up or quitting or not being there for the people who need us. In other words: we are failing. I think Danielle LaPorte wrote something along the lines of “we think we need to hustle our worthiness.” If we don’t show up every time, everywhere, for everyone, well... we just don’t deserve success.

I struggle constantly with this. You know I’m a Yes Woman. I hate disappointing or letting down or backing off. I often believe that my grit, my dogged determinism to just not stop, is the only reason I have ever accomplished anything. But recently, a vision of an alternative reality came flooding through my mind’s windows and doors. It was a place where slowing down meant digging in. Taking a nap meant being a better wife. Stepping away from obligation meant stepping into my enthusiasm. And then: the phone started ringing. The difficult financial problems started to solve themselves. The laughter got louder. And, maybe most surprisingly, the world did not end.

So many times we think that trudging through our to-do lists, and obligations, and responsibilities makes us a hero. It just makes us tired. And don’t get it twisted, there will be a time when you need to get down in that dirty trench and pull an all-nighter, or an 18-hour day, or a productivity binge that leaves everything else in it’s dust. But if you don’t rest at the right times, you’ll never be able to call on those energy reserves. You will have used them up before they were really necessary. You will feel empty, depleted, and angry. Or at least, that’s what happened to me.

I am all for making it happen. Putting your name out there and defying “reality.” Deciding what you want and creating that life with your whole heart. But when you get sucked into the vortex of busy, you stop knowing what you want. And when you stop knowing what you want, there’s no way to create a life you love.

What if you took five minutes to just sit still without a screen in front of you? What if you created a Pinterest board about things that lit you up, you know, just for fun? What if you called an old friend? What if you said no to something so you could have a real day off? Or (don’t be nervous) two days off?

Let’s put it this way:

What could you accomplish with a clear mind?

What could you dream of doing if you had nothing holding you back?

How would you feel if you just let go and trusted it would be okay?

Who would you be if you honestly believed that your implicit energy (not the manufactured kind) added value to this world?

Because rest, my dear friends, gives you time to answer the important questions. It takes you out of scarcity and brings you to more than enough. It gives you a little extra grace, a ton more drive, and a whole boatload of wonder. And if we’re to accomplish anything big, dreamy, and epicly magical in this life, that’s exactly what it’s going to take.

When do you rest?

All images via Pinterest