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

Saturday evening, after a full day of newsletter writing I found myself in front of the television.

(I know newsletter writing is not unplugging but the stories were there, ready and waiting to be written and I didn’t feel like arguing with my muse about how it was a Saturday and could she please bring them back later.)

Though we have access to fewer channels than many, it’s still about a gazillion – and yet nothing being broadcast at that moment appealed to me.

It was a transitional moment.

I could have turned off the TV and consulted my “things to do instead of watch TV” list. (When you’re tired, you can’t remember the things that are obvious when you aren’t tired. So a list of specific suggestions – activities to replace a habitual one – can be helpful, but only if you remember to use it.)

But instead my tired mind got hooked into watching Pretty Woman, which I probably hadn’t seen since it was originally released.

My gawd, what an appalling film. Watching it was not restful or restorative in any way.

take 2

Sunday was another full day, but of the unplugging sort.

• I slowly perused the newspaper over breakfast.
• Collaged a dreamboard for February.
• Knit a few more rows of a scarf that is nearly finished.
• Read up on ways the time between epiphany and lent were traditionally honored and celebrated.
• Tended the birdfeeders and glimpsed my gorgeous totem woodpecker in the process.
• Took a happy moment to notice all the tiny signs of spring.

And at the end of the day, I once again found myself in front of the television.

But remembering the horror of the previous evening, I chose instead to watch one of the many programs I had previously recorded – the documentary Young at Heart.

Let’s just say I will never hear certain songs the same way again.

It was delightful and refreshing in a way that Pretty Woman could never be.

And reminded me that my relationship with television needs that sort of flotation device: You can only watch what you have recorded. No exceptions.

Because a tired mind does not make good choices.

• • • • •

It’s that resolution-ish time of year. Even if you don’t do new year’s resolutions, it’s hard to avoid the fresh-start vibe of January.

It’s been a long time since I’ve made a traditional list of wished-for self-improvements. And yet I still don’t seem to be able to help myself from renewing my commitment to certain practices or introducing others into my life this time of year.

As I do so this time around, I’m trying my best to keep in mind one of my most important lessons learned of the past year: everything is an experiment.

Needless to say, this is not Planner Girl’s usual MO. More →

At the tail end of the holidays last year, I distinctly remember making a genius list of gift ideas for this year. (I always get my best ideas about such things after it’s too late.)

And now I can’t find it.

I’ve looked in my trusty binders.
In the box of “stuff to be filed.”
In the box of holiday decorations.
In the holiday cookie recipe books.
In the crafting supplies.

I’ve searched high and low without success, yet I know it’s somewhere in this house – and that is making me a little kookypants.

Partly because it really was an inspired list – one I’d rather not reinvent. But mostly because I very rarely lose things – and when I do, they are usually permanently gone.

Besides being frustrating and sad, this challenges my very sense of identity (listed under my name in the dictionary would be: never loses things) and my ego just hates moments like this.

But at least I’ve figured out the principle that keeps such moments from happening over and over again.

The first place you look for something is the place where it belongs.

Goodness knows what seemed a sensible location eleven months ago (assuming I tucked it away with intention), but I should have put it in my binder.

Each and every time you look for something, if it’s where you expected it to be – give yourself a gold star.

If it’s not where you expected it to be – before you turn your office or house upside down (and beat yourself up over your disorganized ways all the while) – make a note of where you first went to find it. That’s its home. That’s where it belongs.

This location may not seem the most logical choice. It may not seem the sort of place where something like what you are looking for should be kept.

But it’s where your big, beautiful quirky brain thinks it belongs.

And since it’s easier to work with your brain than change it – once you do find what you’re looking for (and here’s hoping you have better luck than I have), just go ahead put it there for next time.

I promise, you’ll be thanking yourself later with lots of gold stars.

• • • • •

P.S. After writing this, I eventually found my notes on my third pass through the box-of-stuff-to-be-filed. I didn’t recognize them the first two times I looked because they weren’t quite as genius and inspired as I remember them being. Um, yeah. I think the word for that is hubris. Also: systems! Using mine more consistently would have saved me a lot of bother over the last week.

• • • • •

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about magical thinking.

You know, those moments when we take action as though everything will work out despite all sorts of indications to the contrary.

I’m not talking about having hope or faith or trust in the face of not being able to predict the future.

I’m not talking about the occasional appearance of needed resources and solutions when we least expect them (the universe can be very generous that way).

I’m talking about knowingly putting on blinders to our problems and our limits and barreling through anyway.

I’m talking about…

• cramming more commitments into an already overfull schedule
• adding more responsibilities to an already too-long to-do list
• buying more stuff with an already depleted bank account
• demanding more work from an already tired body
• and so forth…

And expecting to get away with it because it’s just this once.

This is not how we normally do things. We know better. But this time, something about our circumstances seems to demand an exception – seems to require magic.

Because it seems there’s no other way out.

There is always more than one way out.

Of course, magic isn’t the only answer. It’s just that those alternate solutions ask something of us that magical thinking does not.

They require us to set aside our egos and acknowledge our very human limits – something that is at best humbling and at worst humiliating (though thankfully the latter is very rare).

Those solutions also require us to make choices. When engaged in magical thinking, we can have it all. But the moment we acknowledge our limits, we have to choose. Choosing itself is challenging – what to keep? what to release? And while relief often comes with release, so does disappointment and grief.

Yet this smaller slice of humble pie is so much tastier than anything else we’re hoping to conjure up. Mainly because it’s real. And because it’s real, we can find real satisfaction in it.

Magical thinking rarely delivers.

Oh sure, there may have been times when we’ve been able to dig down deep and pull a big white fluffy bunny of productivity from the top hats of our businesses.

But how often does that really happen? I don’t know about you, but the few times I’ve actually pulled it off, I was really surprised. Almost as surprised as I would have been had I actually found a real rabbit hiding inside an item of my clothing.

It’s surprising because the much more likely and familiar outcome of magical thinking is the spectacular failure to dazzle.

Nothing disappears in a puff of smoke.
No, that is not their card.
And there you are still stuck in your straightjacket.

Talk about humiliating.

For example.

Last week, I came down with a cold.

I know from experience it’s usually a full week – no matter what I do to take care of myself – before I feel fully like myself again.

And even when it’s not a never-mind-I’m-going-back-to-bed cold, I’m obviously not going to be able to do the amount, kind and quality of work I’m usually able to do when well.

That my work will be delayed by about a week when sick is something easily predicted – and handled.

It would have been a simple thing to email my clients and colleagues with a message explaining my situation and what to expect – then get needed rest and craft a Plan B when I felt better.

But no. I opted for magical thinking: this would be a short cold that I could work through.

I uttered the magic words – vitamin c and liquids! – and – tada! - found nothing at the bottom of my hat but rabbit raisins. Oops. But what did I really expect?

There is a point when Plan A is obviously not going to work out.

But we just don’t want to face it.

There is our injured ego – a result of our miscalculations.
There is the letdown of unexpected setbacks that we don’t have control over.
There is the time and energy required to come up with a Plan B that we don’t have.

The more embarrassed we feel,
the more disappointed we feel,
the more rushed we feel,

the more likely we are to choose magical thinking over finding a doable solution.

Also, the longer we have been engaged in magical thinking, the more likely we are to continue. Not just out of habit, but because magical thinking breeds more and more and bigger and bigger problems that seem to be solvable only through supernatural means.

Until eventually, tired of our Straightjackets of Too Much, we give up.

The real magic word is: Uncle!

As soon as you get an inkling that you are committing yourself beyond your capacity and resources – stop and adjust.

When you are tempted by magical thinking, consider the consequences if you aren’t able to pull a rabbit out of your hat.

Which is more embarrassing?
Admitting your small miscalculation now – while you still have control over how that happens – or later bombing on stage mid-performance?

Which will take more time?
Coming up with a doable Plan B now – which is probably just minor adjustments to Plan A – or coming up with Plan C which includes all the elements of Plan B, plus the job of reparation?

Even if that first inkling passed through your consciousness weeks ago, it’s not too late. Now is still the perfect time to pause and regroup. Sooner is still better than later.

I know how important it is to you to honor your commitments.
I know how much you want to feel forward momentum in your business and your life.
I know how much you don’t want to disappoint people (or yourself).

Believe me, I know.

But none of those things are achievable through magical thinking.

We do have magic, just not this kind.

Each of us has the power to dazzle – but not when we ignore our limits or the challenges that arise in our lives.

I know how hard it is to accept things as they are when we really really want something else to be true. Unfortunately, wishing won’t make it so.

All we can do is forgive ourselves. All we can do is let go of our expectations and recreate the conditions we know bring out our best from what is true now. All we can do is come up with Plan B.

It’s usually a process that does not feel at all enchanting. But if you are in the midst of magical thinking, things probably aren’t all fairy dust anyway. And in the end you may find you’ve wowed yourself and the people around you with your daring escape despite your initial ick and ack.

Once free of the Straightjacket of Too Much, you can then razzle-dazzle ‘em with your superpowers – which can only flourish in spaces where we have room to be human.

It’s the absence of magical thinking that allows us to be magical.

Oh, and -mmm- enjoy pie.

• • • • •

“I have so much to do, I don’t know where to begin!”

That might be true.

You might need to do a little collecting and grouping of your tasks in order to see what actually needs doing and make smart choices about what needs doing first.

Then again, that might be completely false.

You might know exactly what you need to do, you’re just avoiding it by desperately looking for something amongst the items on your to-do list that you can rationalize as more important.

On the surface, it seems sensible. On the outside, you look like a busy person who is just trying to get organized.

But inside, you are running for the hills.

Of course you feel overwhelmed.

Sifting through all those potential tasks is overwhelming.

Weighing them against the thing you are avoiding is overwhelming.

Suppressing what you are feeling about the thing you are avoiding is overwhelming.

Trying to escape the thing you are avoiding is overwhelming.

All of it is taking a huge amount of energy.

Energy you could be putting into just doing the thing you are avoiding already.

It’s the bone your brain won’t stop chewing on.

You’ll know this is happening when something won’t leave you alone. It’s there when you fall asleep. It’s there when you wake up. No matter what you’re doing, it’s an ever-present worry in the back of your mind.

Instead of your muse bringing you genius ideas in the shower or on walks with the dog, all you get is the voice that reminds you: you should really be working on that.

And then you argue: You know I can’t do that right now! I’ve got x, y and z to do first!

Round and round it goes. You try to work on x, y and z – while also considering taking on the very shiny p, q and r. Meanwhile, your brain keeps reminding you about that thing. You try to get organized, and yet you still feel overwhelmed, still feel drained.

Still feel blocked. Because that’s the upshot of all this avoidance: no flow, no visits from your muse, no ease, no rest.

If you’re wanting to be creative and productive, you need to trust.

Trust that this really is the most important thing.
Trust that shifting from avoidance to action will make things better.
Trust that you have the strength and resources to meet its challenges.

Trust that you really do know where to begin.

• • • • •

This is a guest post from Rachelle Mee-Chapman of Magpie Girl as part of her 30Stories in 30Days event (and genius celebration of her birthday – happy birthday Rachelle! – we’re the ones getting the gifts).

When she invited me to participate, here’s the question I asked…

Q: How do you bring your spirituality and/or your creativity to the administrative side of your business?

Ah! This is what I like to call The Practice of Administrata. As a person whose business is creative soulcare, bringing myself to do administrative tasks is often difficult. I have a friend who is an accountant, and she thrives on details, spreadsheets, and attention to detail. Alas, this is not my strength!

Even the most spiritual yogi doesn’t always want to show up at the mat. And advanced students of meditation sometimes struggle with practicing mindfulness. That’s why they call it a spiritual discipline. Your administrative tasks are a part of your soulful and/or creative business. Resistance is futile. Why not consider your administrative work a spiritual practice in and of itself? Here are some things that might help.

Become Pavlov’s Dog

Inspired by Christine Reed of The Bliss Chick, who Pavlov-ed herself into writing a book, I have a playlist of songs that help me get through repetitive administrative tasks. When I’m updating spreadsheets or going through my more mundane emails I click on this list. I love words, so anything with captivating lyrics won’t work. But Royksopp and Sigur Ros work well. As soon as I hear the familiar opening strains of the songs on my Administrata playlist, my mind/body click into the task at hand.

Create a Beautiful Work Space

In yoga, when you come to the mat, you’re ready to practice. If you have to do work that doesn’t naturally feed your soul, it’s good to do it in a space that soothes you. Your work space becomes your yoga mat, indicating that it’s time to practice. For instance, inspired by the household stylings of Lisa Congdon, my studio is a careful balance of collections that nurture my creativity, and clean spaces that create openness. Having a room of my own to work in really helps the administrata go by. If you don’t have a room of your own, try to think of what your “mat” can be. Perhaps it a cup of tea in a beautiful mug that signals “time to work;” or settling yourself with your lap top and your file fold at the kitchen table in the sun. Get creative and establish a “mat” of your own.

Have a Balanced Schedule

If you know you can’t do long swatches of administrative work without your spiritual or creative self going a little twitchy, why would you save it all up for one marathon workday? Create a weekly schedule that allows you to get your administrative done in bite sized pieces. Reward yourself with more creative assignments along the way.

Practice Resonate Pricing and Fair-Energy Exchange

One of the administrative systems we must have in places is right-fit pricing for our products and services. I am still really struggling to find the balance here. And I rely on resonate pricing and the concept of a fair-exchange of energy to help me along. The administrative work feels more soulful if you know you are doing it to offer a great service at a fair price to people who truly need it.

Know Your Limits

Finally, I would say that it’s important to know what you are capable of. If certain administrative tasks are really sucking your soul dry, it might be time to consider outsourcing. I was so angsty over my inability to create beautiful looking worksheets for my courses, that it was keeping me from offering the classes! Hiring a graphic designer got me over that hurdle and helped me offer good work to the world. The stress of not getting certain things taken care of was draining my emotional energy and keeping me from offering my clients my best work, so I hired a VA for a few hours a week to help with some of the tasks I was struggling with. It’s okay to ask for help. And investing in your business will be worth it in the long run.

• • • • •

Rachelle Mee-Chapman, specializes in customized soulcare for spiritual misfits. She works with clients at Magpie Girl to help them find a spirituality that fits; and hosts Flock, an online soulcare community. You can learn more about her creative approach in her free ecourse, Magpie Speak: a new vocabulary for soulcare. Friend :: Follow :: Presents!

Remember Veruca Salt from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory?

She wanted it all right this minute.

I want a ball
I want a party
Pink macaroons and a million balloons
And performing baboons and …
Give it to me
Now!

I want the world
I want the whole world
I want to lock it all up in my pocket
It’s my bar of chocolate
Give it to me
Now!

I want today
I want tomorrow
I want to wear ‘em like braids in my hair
And I don’t want to share ‘em

I want a party with roomfuls of laughter
Ten thousand tons of ice cream
And if I don’t get the things I am after
I’m going to scream!

I want the works
I want the whole works
Presents and prizes and sweets and surprises
Of all shapes and sizes
And now
Don’t care how
I want it now
Don’t care how
I want it now

And who can blame her?

Minus the pink macaroons (ew, don’t like coconut) and the performing baboons (I can’t see how that’s going to turn out well), this all sounds swell.

A sense that time is yours to do with as you please. Celebration. Laughter. Unexpected blessings and hard-earned rewards – both large and small.

Who doesn’t want that sort of thing in their lives?
And who hasn’t felt disappointed and frustrated about not getting them?

Wanting what you want is not the problem.

Go on wanting. It’s what pulls us into our lives.

We just need to get better at noticing what happens when we get what we want, if it actually makes us happy.

Because the baboons really are going to get out of hand.
And that much ice cream would just make a person sick.
And eventually the world is going get fed up with being held hostage in your pocket.

Learning to notice such things makes us better choosers. And knowing how to make better choices means getting what we really want from having what we want.

Now that you have it, are you spoiled?

Veruca is characterized as a spoiled child. To spoil something is to diminish or destroy the value or quality of. That is, her qualities as a person are spoiled by her incessant wanting without discretion or satisfaction in anything she gets, as is the quality of her relationships.

Avoiding becoming spoiled isn’t as simple as not throwing tantrums.

Take me, for instance.

I have a very full to-do list right now. While it reflects work I love doing, there is so much that – without space for reflection – it’s hard to really enjoy doing it.

All the rushing my list requires isn’t doing a thing for me, my work or my relationships. All are somewhat spoiled right now. And all because I didn’t exercise discretion, oh, about two months ago. Nope, I decided I wanted – had to have – it all right now.

And now I’m in that learning place that Veruca and her parents seemingly never visit, asking myself these important questions:

Have I gotten what I really wanted from having-it-all-right-now?
And now that I’ve got it all, do I even like what I have?

Well, yes and no.

Yes, my primary motivation for choosing to do so much at once has been fulfilled. But that has come with diminished quality. And that feels about as good as a stomach ache after too much ice cream. So, also no.

Given the pain and disappointment of the stomach ache, I understand Veruca’s impulse to demand something else instead. Clearly, my next choice should be something different. Maybe macaroons, balloons and baboons will fix things.

Maybe. But only if they don’t come in the millions or by the ton.

Because that’s the real lesson here.

Occasionally, we get it wrong. That thing we thought we’d love turns out to be perfectly awful (me and sculling, for example).

But most of the time, I think our guesses about what would make us happy are pretty accurate. We just need to get better at understanding the point at which the things we love become too much of a good thing.

The point at which they begin to spoil us.

Noticing what happened when I got what I wanted means I will make better choices about what ends up on my calendar next time around. More than that, the noticing shapes and refines what even seems desirable – meaning it’s unlikely I will spoil things this way again. (I might spoil it another way – but, hey, that’s part of the learning process.)

Maybe you’re in a spot similar to my own right now. If so, my question to you is this:

What is trying to have it all at once, right now, doing to you?
What beautiful qualities in yourself and your life are you spoiling?

And how can you lovingly parent your inner Veruca Salt and help her understand how much is enough and choose with more wisdom and maturity?

• • • • •

It’s one thing to know how much is enough, it’s another to actually say no to what is beyond that point. If you’d like to strengthen this fundamental skill, please join me and Jen Hofmann for our upcoming workshop: How To Say No and Feel Good About It.

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

• • • • •

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.

• • • • •

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.

• • • • •

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.

• • • • •

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.

• • • • •

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 →