Note: The following is a guest post from the fabulous Jamie Ridler…

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Out of all the challenges I’ve faced as an entrepreneur the one that has caused me the most suffering is the belief that there is “a way things should be done.” I’m a voracious learner and when I started Jamie Ridler Studios, I immersed myself in enough business books and trainings to strain both my brain and my budget and almost always I would hit a point where I thought – I just can’t go there!

Each time that happened, I would take a good long look at myself and ask, “Am I resisting something I need to grow into? Do I have to change? Are my artsy ways holding me back? Am I unwilling to do what needs to be done? Am I just not cut out for this?”

See, that’s the thing with us entrepreneurs. We’re fiercely independent. We love the thought of running our own thing so that we can be the boss of ourselves, define our own schedule, choose our own clients, follow our true passions and bring a dream to life. When we realize we need some business basics, we start creating a business plan and a marketing strategy, defining our niche and our ideal client. This is all new to us, so we turn to recommended sources for guidance. Unfortunately, before we know it, we’re trying to squish ourselves into a pre-existing framework of “how it is done.” We start believing we have to give up parts of who we are in order to fit into “the way it is” so that we can make this business fly. In no time at all we are doubting ourselves and this whole idea of running a business! Ouch!

It doesn’t have to be that way.

There is a whole movement of heart-centered entrepreneurs out there who are changing things, who are opening up the possibilities and finding new approaches to creating sustainable businesses based on our vision and our true selves. As creative independent spirits we know that when we create something that is rooted in our souls, our authenticity, it is always stronger, truer, richer and more beautiful. That’s true of our art, that’s true of our lives and that’s true of our businesses as well.

A part of being an entrepreneur is learning to trust your own instincts and wisdom. When you read business books and take classes, take what works for you and kick the rest to the curb. Yes, sometimes it’s scarier to take the risk of going your own way but it’s a free and open road to explore rather than a box you squish yourself into. Over time, you will start to develop your own ways for sustaining your unique enterprise. And along the way, you’ll find more and more creative entrepreneurs on the road with you, sharing their wisdom as you share yours, lighting the way for one another.

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Jamie Ridler MA CPCC is a creative living coach and founder of Jamie Ridler Studios. Through coaching, workshops and events, Jamie helps people bring their creativity to all aspects of their lives. She is leading a workshop in Authentic Professionalism™ at Third Hand Works on Thursday, September 9. Registration is now open.

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One of the best scenes in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off is the one in which his sister, Jeanie, gets a bit of counseling from a boy in a police station.

Boy: What do you care if your brother ditches school?

Jeanie: Why should he get to ditch when every body else has to go?

Boy: You could ditch.

Jeanie: Yeah. I’d get caught.

Boy: So you’re pissed off because he ditches and doesn’t get caught, is that it?

Jeanie: Basically.

Boy: Basically. Then your problem is you.

Jeanie: Excuse me?

Boy: Excuse you. You ought to spend a little more time dealing with yourself, a little less time worrying about what your brother does.

We have all sorts of reasons why we can’t do the things we want to do.

We don’t have enough time.
We don’t have enough money.
We have to do this before we can do that.

We can’t do what we want until we get organized or clean the house or lose ten pounds or take a class or add another 500 people to our mailing list or find a partner or the kids are in school or … whatever. I expect Jeanie was waiting until she graduated from high school to do what she wanted.

We’ve become convinced the only way we can live the way we’d like is to follow the rules. Eventually, we will be rewarded.

Oh sure, other people are doing the kinds of things we’d love to be doing right now, without all our patient obedience – but they are special.

We envy them like crazy and follow their every move with whiny jealousy, just like Jeanie.

We resent having to wait, but we have to. Otherwise, we might get caught.

If you recognize yourself in this dialogue, allow me to be that boy counselor in the jailhouse of your own making and remind you to spend more time on living your own life than envying what other people are doing.

Because they are no more special than you are. The only difference between you is their willingness to drop the excuses and get on with it.

If you’ve seen the film, you know Ferris is not only tenacious, but organized about crafting the kind of day he wants to experience.

He puts a lot of effort into a) enjoying himself to the max and b) not getting caught.

And you can do the same.

Instead of putting your energy into catching the people you envy (as Jeanie does), watch how they do what they want to do – so you can free yourself.

Instead of complaining in resentment, Where on earth do people get the money to do such things? – find out how they actually finance what they do.

Instead of sighing in frustration, If only I had that kind of time! – learn how the people you admire are leveraging certain activities so they can do others.

Instead of whining in discontent, I wish I could get away with that! – try it yourself and see what happens.

Because here’s the thing: chances are, something good will come of it – as it usually does when we act on the stuff that lights us up – and you’ll be the one envied. But even if you did get caught, like Ferris, you could handle it. You have the resources, I promise.

Get out there and break some rules. Ditch something.

Your rule breaking doesn’t have to be radical to bring you closer to the life you want (although I’ll admit small things can feel radical). Arrange your office in a way that makes you happy. Start your day doing something you love instead of what you think you have to do. Wear the favorite clothes that make you feel good. Go ahead and tell that story on your blog. Do that fun thing you’ve always wanted to try.

Do something you really want to do in these last few weeks of summer. And don’t worry about getting caught.

Because, as Ferris would remind us: Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.

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We’ll be ditching our limiting beliefs about what it is to be “professional” in a special workshop coming September 9: Authentic Professionalism with Jamie Ridler. I hope you’ll join us for some fun and engaging rule breaking.

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The latest installment in an occasional series: how I unplugged over the weekend.

The most clever thing I saw this weekend…

You’re familiar with the ice cream truck, right? Well, in a river city it just makes good business sense to get yourself an ice cream boat. Easy money on a hot day at a crowded beach. This cheered me no end. I always seem to learn something useful from visiting the river. More →

The latest installment in an occasional series: how I unplugged over the weekend.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: someday I’ll come up with a system that stands up to the common cold. Someday soon.

Being self-employed, I get sick far less often than when I went to an office every day (this one was courtesy of the germs my sweetheart brought home from his office) – but it still happens. And it always lasts longer and takes more out of me than I think a silly little cold will or should.

It’s not so much feeling drained as feeling so very stupid with congestion that makes doing anything so impossible.

All one can do is rest.

It’s the only way out, but it’s boring. It’s annoying. And it’s nothing like unplugging.

Now that I’m my own boss, calling in sick isn’t the thrill it used to be. Despite aches and sniffles, as an employee, it still felt a little like playing hooky. The sleep, the quiet, the soup and snacks, the Perry Mason reruns in the middle of the day… it was all deliciously rare self-care.

But now, that self-care – thankfully – is much less rare. I like my job a lot more and I have much more control in when and how I do it, so there’s less thrill in stepping away from work.

Things are better. Which makes having a cold that much more of a drag. All I can think about is how much I’m missing out on – plugged or unplugged.

So, thank goodness that’s over. That stupid little virus was turning me into a complete cranky-pants.

And I’m going to make up for it next weekend with extra-special unplugging.

The longer I do what I do, the more people I work with, the more closely I look at how we get stuff done – the more I’m convinced of the importance of transitions.

Some transitions are more obvious: maybe half an hour ago you were replying to email and now you are reading this article. There was a space between those two activities that you navigated in some way.

But some transitions are more subtle. They are the moments when something about our energy or emotional state shifts.

Learning to recognize and navigate these subtle transitions is super-useful in managing our time and energy in ways that leave us feeling satisfied rather than demoralized.

Transitions like…

• That moment when [insert your social media of choice here] shifts from being a heap of fun to a horrible house of mirrors.

• That moment when editing your work shifts from polishing to fussing over details that don’t matter.

• That moment when planning shifts from organizing your thoughts so you can take action to avoiding taking that action.

In those moments, there is a point when it’s important to recognize that – at lease for now – this thing is as good as it’s going to get. That might change tomorrow or next week, but for today – this is it. In this moment, no amount of lingering or checking or pushing or self-coaching is going to change that. Doing so is just a waste of your time and energy.

Learn to recognize those moments when something is as good as it’s going to get.

Sometimes it’s when your flow just peters out. Sometimes it’s a rise in anxiety or frustration. If you pay attention, you’ll come to recognize however it manifests for you.

Learn to act on it.

The moment the thought this is done for now crosses your mind, stop. Just stop. In the beginning, it doesn’t matter so much what you do next as it does to simply move on.

That next thing doesn’t have to be something significant from your to-do list. In fact, it’s probably better if it’s not.

Since I work from home, I often turn to domestic chores in such moments. Loading the dishwasher or starting a load of laundry is a good way for me to shake off whatever I’ve just been doing. (Hint: transitions and maintenance are a match made in heaven.) Having caught my breath, I can then turn my attention back to the bigger tasks of the day.

If I don’t give myself such a bridge, I bring all the subtle ick of what I’ve just-been-doing-but-should-have-left-sooner into my next task. It’s important in the in-between to give yourself the chance to release and recharge – and you can do it in less than five minutes.

Prepare for it.

These sorts of transitional moments happen all the time – so be ready for them by giving yourself transitional activities to turn to.

Create a list* of quick, energizing activities that ground and cheer you.
Put it someplace where you will see it when you need it – like on the bulletin board above your desk. My list includes activities like: dance to theme song, hula hoop, apply spray and lotion, stretch, walk the dog, water the garden.

Create a list* of small, easy routine tasks that need doing, but don’t take a lot of mental and emotional energy.
Again, put it someplace where you will see it when you need it. In addition to dishwashing and laundry, my list includes admin activities like filing and entering receipts.

Create a list* of  your top three tasks for the day or week.
Once again, put it someplace where you will see it when you need it. It’s hard to move on to the next thing when you don’t know what the next thing is. Make it easy to refocus your attention by giving yourself easy to follow instructions.

[ *When I say list, you know I don't mean something boring - make it a gorgeous mind-map or collage if you like - you know, something that inspires you to use it. ]

As you become more skilled in recognizing and acting on these transitional moments, you’ll get better at knowing which activities will most help you depending on the shift that took place. Emotionally triggered? Ground and cheer. Flow petered out? Switch it up and recharge. Lost your focus? Revisit your priorities.

There’s nothing wrong with arriving at that point of good-as-it’s-gonna-get-for-now. It’s just part of the rhythm and cycle of things.

What is important is learning how to recognize those moments when something shifts and act on it so you can successfully navigate the transition (rather than deny the reality of the situation).

I promise doing so will leave you feeling much less depleted and far more productive at the end of the day.

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The latest installment in an occasional series: how I unplugged over the weekend.

Sometimes you’re all over the unplugging, but your muse won’t leave you alone.

I’m not talking about those times when you unplug so you can hear your muse, I’m talking about those times when your biggest aim for the day is a late breakfast involving bacon followed by napping and some extreme puttering.

I would have been very happy with the latter this weekend, but no. Last week I gave myself permission to do one thing I wanted (but felt I shouldn’t) and it was like my muse said, “Fantastic! Finally. Because if you do that, then we can think about doing this, and this, and this – oh, and this. It’s going to be awesome! Aren’t I the best muse ever?”

I love her. I do. I love getting high on new ideas. And I’ll gladly take them when they come.

But when they come during what was supposed to be downtime, it’s important to remember I have a flexible schedule that allows me to still get that needed downtime once the rush of ideas runs its course (as it always does – there’s an ebb and flow to these things). If I’m smart enough to take it.

The danger of barreling along as though I just had two days off from thinking about anything more complicated that whether to take the dog for a walk or a swim, when I didn’t, is a lesson I’ve learned the hard way.

Hanging out with my muse is exhilarating, but just because it’s fun and easy doesn’t mean it’s not depleting in its own way.

Yep, I’ll be sneaking some R&R into this week. Starting with a nap right now…

It’s Friday. Time for the occasional round-up of the week’s Lessons Learned.

It happens every time.

Early on, I didn’t understand it at all. But now, when it shows up, I recognize it for what it is.

Maybe someday soon, I’ll learn to anticipate it. You know, plan for it with a supportive system.

But, for now, I’m happy just to have nipped it in the proverbial bud.

Every single time I’m about two-thirds of the way through teaching something new, I discover the two dozen things that would make it way better next time.

Which is great for next time.

And I know that without trying things out, I would never discover what would make them better. I know this is how the process works.

The only problem is, all that information just leaves me feeling like I’ve shortchanged my beta students.

Which I haven’t. Just because something could be more awesome doesn’t make the current version less-than-awesome.

What I’m feeling is not what they are experiencing.

And for the first time ever, I remembered that sooner rather than later and didn’t let my unnecessarily guilty conscience paralyze me or go too crazy with the making-up-for-it.

This time, I’m putting my energy into version 1.1, instead of apologizing for 1.0.

And to this recovering perfectionist, that feels like huge progress.

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What did you learn this week?

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The latest installment in an occasional series: how I unplugged over the weekend.

Last weekend’s unplugging actually started about noon Friday when I realized even if the week wasn’t done, I was.

I quite spontaneously decided what my week needed was a little trip to the spa. So, after running a couple errands, I took my tired self out for a foot soak and arm massage. It was a transformative half hour. Which I followed with happy hour at the local pub and take-out for a quiet, relaxing dinner with my sweetheart. I felt so guiltily indulgent at the outset, but it was exactly what I needed and beautifully set the tone for the entire weekend. Highly recommended (not specifically a spa treatment, happy hour, or take-out – just the doing what you need part).

Really, I would stop this post here – that being the only part with a point to share – except then I would have to leave out my rant on movie theaters, which came at the very end and I really need to get off my chest. So, here’s what happened after that…

Saturday began with the traditional visit to a river beach with my sweetheart and Max the Dog – with my usual latte and my sweetheart’s less-than-usual hamburger for breakfast (in his world breakfast for breakfast is good, but dinner for breakfast is better – usually in the form of fried chicken). It was a gorgeous morning of walking and stick tossing. And, apparently, finding yummy garbage in the bushes – poor Max was later rather sick in the middle of the night. I love this tradition (minus dog vomit, of course) – the weekend isn’t quite right without it.

Then we headed to the farmers market. Beans. Corn. Strawberries. Peaches. Buckwheat crepes with bacon. Spicy sausages. Excellent folk trio. And lots of people celebrating a summer’s day through life’s simple pleasures. The theme for August at the Maintenance Department is “Just BE,” so I’ve been thinking a lot about the difference between being and doing – there was a lot being happening at the market. This, I thought, is what being looks like.

Next thing I remember after returning home is the three of us napping in the cool basement.  Huh. Wonder what we did in the meantime. I guess I really did unplug…

Then I did a little laundry. And had the recollection that it’s tricky to unplug when you don’t give yourself fun stuff to do. So I cleaned out my puttering basket which had gotten to be, well, let’s say less than supportive.

Somehow that led to actual puttering in the form of going through old magazines, tearing out images I could use for collages while listening to Patricia Barber, Ricki Lee Jones, Joni Mitchell and Norah Jones – then tossing the rest into the recycling bin. It was a remarkably satisfying way to spend a quiet afternoon. Ahh.

Suddenly it was time for dinner made from our market goods. And an even more laid back evening of tv I had recorded to watch later. Exactly what shows I don’t recall, which I’m again taking as a sign of unplugging in a good rather than bad way.

Then Sunday. Me: coffee and the newspaper. Him: dog walking and the junkyard. Me: the annual washing of the living room rug (the victim of the dog’s illness) – a big slung-over-the-fence-to-be-hosed-down-with-soap-and-water affair that requires hot weather. Him: replacing his truck bench. Me: weeding and watering a thirsty garden (the tomatoes are coming! and the blackberries!). Him: realizing his new bench won’t fit and putting the old one back (bummer). Both of us: by noon, realizing the dog has it right and we should be resting in the cool indoors.

After a break, it then seemed like a good idea to beat the heat by going to a matinee. Our movie of choice was playing at a downtown theater. We tried to remember the last time we had gone to see a movie in a downtown theater (a diverting novelty!). Well, folks, there was a reason for that…

Nearly a day later, I still can’t stop laughing about the prices. The concession stand alone is hilariously absurd. (This, I thought, is why Americans are broke.) Even the vending machine in the restroom selling tampons, ibuprofen, two flavors of lip gloss and candy cracked me up. Not so much the endless commercials (I’m not talking about movie previews, but the same commercials one sees watching tv). And the people who expect their much-too-small-children to be quiet and content for more than an hour.

Was it a good film? Well, mostly (even if it was a bit out of focus). But it hardly mattered after a certain point. We were so discombobulated by the whole downtown/parking/mall/theater experience that it would have taken some genius storytelling to lift us out of that. And our chosen film was not that brilliant.

[ The best part of our excursion may have been – while killing time waiting for the movie to start – poking around in a store where I used to work more than fifteen years ago. They still sell fabulous stuff, but what surprised me the most was how many artists I recognized – a discovery that means those craftspeople are still making a living doing what they love two decades later. This cheers me no end. You can do this thing without starving. ]

Lastly, when we got back to the car we realized we had lost our parking ticket. Thankfully, they have ways of handling such things that didn’t require payment of our remaining arms and legs. Otherwise it really would have been the proverbial last straw.

Even so, we’re not going back any time soon. Wonderful Neighborhood Theater, we love you and we’re never ever cheating on you ever ever again. And we promise to visit more often.

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How do you set the tone for your weekends?
How would giving yourself what you need change the quality of your unplugging?
What are your traditions that make your weekend, the weekend?
Where do you find opportunities to be rather than do?
What’s in your puttering basket?
Who’s on your weekend playlist?
What adventures have you had lately that taught you what not to do to unplug?

How did you unplug this weekend?

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I’ve been thinking a lot about perfectionism lately and how I know I’ve been engaging in that instead of what I call refinement.

Refinement serves the work.

Refinement is that process of adding only what’s needed and removing everything that’s not. It’s about a certain precision. It’s about making smart choices about what one’s creation needs to do its job in the world.

And, when I’m really in flow, I don’t feel like I’m the one making those decisions. I feel like I’m just obeying my muse’s – very clear and insistent – directions about what this thing needs to be.

While the process of refinement may be challenging and leave me tired, it’s a good sort of exhaustion – like after a good workout.

When I am engaged in refinement, I can sense when I’ve gotten it to good enough and the work is ready to be shared.

This is usually accompanied by a sense of pride and excitement (with maybe just a few nerves on the side).

Perfectionism serves fear.

Maybe it needs something else? There’s probably a better word. Maybe people will like it more if I made this part blue. What if I move this to the left half an inch?

Fuss, fuss, fuss. Endlessly. Over details that don’t matter.

I’m not in flow. And I’m making decisions based not on what would make the work better, but what I imagine would make the specter of my most critical audience happy. Which seems like it’s about serving them, but it’s really about me and what I need – not what my audience needs and certainly not what the work needs.

Perfectionism is draining – and it’s the bad sort of exhaustion that doesn’t help me sleep more soundly.

When I am engaged in perfectionism, the work never feels finished. And the idea of sharing it makes me feel nauseous.

False standards keep us stuck.

I’m guessing we all agree that perfectionism is not a good thing.

But I think one of the things that makes us reluctant to let it go is our fear that we will somehow throw the baby out with the bath water. That if we set more realistic conditions of satisfaction we will somehow end up producing complete crap.

It doesn’t work that way. In fact, that all-or-nothing attitude is just the perfectionism at work again.

It’s not so much a matter of lowering one’s standards, rather shifting one’s focus. Remember, our standards define how we choose to be in the world and interact with others. You can’t set a standard for how people interact with you. You can set some boundaries, but you can’t make people like you.

All you have control over is the quality of the work. Focusing on those standards will serve you.

Eliminating false standards that, in the end, just support how you hope people will interact with you eliminates the huge waste of energy that is perfectionism – and that will serve you too.

Start noticing.

What are your efforts serving? Your work or your fears?
Begin paying attention to how you know the difference.

And when you tip into fear, help yourself find your way back to that space where you are creating from love for your work and its purpose in the world.

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It’s Monday – time for the latest installment in an occasional series: how I unplugged over the weekend.

I’m tempted to say the key to unplugging during the weekend is to get your dog to let you sleep an hour later – both days. Except I have no idea how we did that. I cannot explain it, nor could I repeat it – let alone tell you how to do the same with your own domesticated animals. All I know is it was pretty blissful.

What I do know for sure that is explainable and repeatable: staying off the computer is key. At least for me. To unplug, I truly have to unplug.

That limits my input to the Sunday newspaper – more likely just the Living and Travel sections since the everything else but the comics tends to be full of doom and gloom – but that’s okay.

I loved reading about the spaces where local artists work. It’s so interesting what different people need to be their most creative. And I learned about letterboxing, which sounds like a fantastic way to unplug.

I was also reminded by the visit of a family member from the opposite coast how much fun it is to be a tourist in your own region. To do all that cool (sometimes corny, but who cares?) stuff you never even think to do. It’s not off the beaten path, but it’s probably of your beaten path – which makes it refreshing. And you might just come to love your home that much more.

I’m compiling a list of must-sees for myself. Because treating your weekend like a vacation away from home (even when you’re not) is a great way to unplug.

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