Posts Tagged ‘fear’

When Goals Create Anxiety

Written by on 23rd June 2011

You know how sometimes the stuff that really matters to you adds up to…too much stuff? There are only so many hours in the day and priorities can occasionally be in conflict.  This seems to be especially true when we’re granted significant amounts of “free” time. We want to move forward with our big dreams, but it’s easy to get overwhelmed trying to pack everything in and, very often, we’re so burnt out by the day-to-day that free time feels like a call to rest and play.

A client of mine happens to be in education and is facing this exact conundrum this summer. How does she tackle the big chunks related to her deeper dreams that the academic year doesn’t allow for while honoring her deep need for fun? She expressed heightened anxiety related to this and so I offered her the following thoughts via email.  You might find them useful, too.

See if you can release the outcome(s) at all. In other words, be responsible for putting in the effort to work toward your goals without being attached to whether or not they are reached.

Consider breaking down your goals into much smaller chunks so that they are manageable. Keep breaking down each goal/interest aread until it’s actually something you could check off a list in a day.

Experiment with creating a daily/weekly schedule. Perhaps Mondays and Fridays are play days. You can be flexible with it, but if it keeps you focused and keeps the anxiety at bay, it’s worth sticking with it.

Be willing to let some thing(s) go. Look at your list of goals/tasks and sit with it meditatively. Center in and ask your heart what experiences it is truly longing for. Only keep those items that naturally rise to the surface. If they all rise to the surface, ask your heart how you can honor those wishes.

As I wrapped up my email to this client, I added one final thought: Don’t forget that you can’t do life perfectly. You’ll always be experimenting and recalibrating and finding your way anew.

What measures do you put in place to keep moving forward with your dreams while practicing really solid self-care?

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Map the Gap

Written by on 14th January 2011

This is Part Three in a Six-Part Series about getting to the stuff that really matters this year. If you missed the other parts, start here.

So we’ve talked about what really matters and about discovering your current story. All this to share more fully with you about how you can effect change in 2011. It will also help you better understand the process for the upcoming six month group coaching series, Jumpstart What Matters Most.

Here’s the third part: mapping the gap between the stuff that matters and your current story.

All coaching deals in part with “the gap.” After all, between where we are and where we want to be, there is space. If there wasn’t, we’d already have what we want, be doing what we want, be relating the way we want, be thinking the way we want, be living the way we want. We’d be there. But for most of us, there are important areas of our lives where the gap can feel pretty big, where the path to “getting there” appears long and full of travail.

Embarking on the journey to live our lives in line with what matters most to us is its own kind of hero’s journey, the archetypal pattern described by Joseph Campbell. It is an ancient, mythic, ubiquitous pattern. (Realizing and embracing the ubiquity of this narrative can ultimately prove helpful and provide fuel for the journey.) Even the most cursory glance reveals that the path to “getting there” is often a serious and challenging one:

Of course, as you already know, when something is truly worth going after, it is hardly as easy as stepping over a few pebbles in the road. Indeed, when we examine the “why” of being stuck, there are good reasons. We are often confronted with our own past, our limitations, our psychological hang-ups or habituated responses. The gap between where we are and where we want to be can feel insurmountable and undesirable. After all, I don’t know anyone who actively seeks out an abyss.

But there is tremendous good news! News that forms the foundation of my coaching philosophy: when you are truly ready for the journey, when you feel it is time, deep down, you will have what you need. And if you do not have every piece that you need before embarking, you will receive it just in time. This goes for both internal resources and external resources. You will discover you have the courage the moment you need courage. You will discover you have the life-changing question the moment it needs to be asked. You will discover that you have the community the moment you need relational support.

You are the hero in your own journey and, ultimately, moving through the entire process is a choice you get to make. Your journey may look like the archetypal narrative above, or it may follow a different arc. Regardless, you get to be an active participant in the creation of how you close the gap between your current story and a new one that reflects what matters most to you.

If you are feeling called to step into your own hero’s journey this year, I invite you to join Jumpstart What Matters Most 2011, a small coaching group starting February 2 designed to help you take those creative and entrepreneurial goals off the back burner. It will provide you with the resources you need to begin moving forward in a powerful, new way! Click here to reserve your spot today!

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My Name Is Geoff and I Have A Story

Written by on 17th December 2010

This post was submitted on Tell a Story. Isn’t it time you told your story?

I carry the hallmarks of a creative person. I’m an Enneagram type 4: the individualist. I’m an ENFP: plenty of ideas, strengths to apply and real challenges around focus and follow-through. I write these things to help you understand my journey. I don’t feel like these elements fully define me as a person, but they’re guideposts to who I am. I also write them because I have a confession:

They’re the very things that I’ve fought against for a very long time in my life.

See, I thought that normalcy and a sense of balance meant suppressing these parts of who I am. I grew up in a family that placed a premium on the three Rs of freedom: Respect, Responsibility and Reason. And so for years, I made the responsible choices. I Plan B’d my creativity into advertising. Not a bad thing. But inside? I was smoldering like Jack White in a Trappist Monastery.

Married at 22, I felt the pull of deeper and deeper responsibility and I had to respect that. I reasoned that if I could just work in the underbelly of my industry then eventually I’d find a way to reconcile these issues I had.

Until I found that my issues were my assets – my gifts, my jewel.

It took 25 years.

Let me give you my stories. It’s surreal:

• Childhood: Jerusalem (Swedish film; worth your time; Netflix it)
• High School: Breakfast Club as experienced by Andrew Clark
• College: Terry Gilliam’s Brazil
• Quarterlife: How to Get a Head in Advertising
• At 30: Kramer vs. Kramer minus the kid

Now understand, for 20 of those years I’ve been working implicitly on transcending these stories to write the new one. But a lot of those years I was doing it on my own. Gotta say, the transformation began when I made the conscious choice to move from self-reflective story changer to overt, out of the closet pursuer of my story. When I did this, it began to click and I made the move. To what?

Story teller. Interpreter of beauty. Writer. Filmmaker. My creative sensibility that has driven my career in the telling of brand stories has myriad applications. My artistic, idea-driven self holds the key. You know what else? What with the Three Rs of freedom and three decades of producing in a suppressive mode I can actually redeem that side of my experience too: I know how to get s**t done.

So I’m doing it. I have my own and new stories I’m going to write and film. You’ll read and watch them. Why? ENFPs have really finely honed delusions of grandeur. I wouldn’t trade mine for the world.

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Posted in Tell A Story | 2 Comments »

What’s Stopping You?

Written by on 11th November 2010

This post was submitted on Tell a Story. Isn’t it time you told your story?

A few months ago I got serious about creative work. I pulled a book off my shelf that had been sitting there unread for 8 years: The War of Art by Steven Pressfield. I told my business partner that I was looking for other work that will be less time-consuming and will allow me to pursue creative work. I followed the guidance of a fortune cookie that led me to the right person to give me creative wisdom at exactly the right time in the right way. I wrote a spec script for a TV show because I have nothing to lose—and I am meeting people in the industry who can help me with it. I went to Burning Man. I met someone on the bus (the bus!) who led me to a screenwriting mentor. I am saying yes to the creative path by forcing myself to make a conscious decision—as often as possible—to get out of my own way.

I finally realized that I am the only one stopping me and I am the only one who has the power to change the course of my life and follow the path that is my “personal legend.” I started resenting movies and books that gave me the impression that if only I had chosen a different spouse or a different college or grown up in a different family, things would be better.The message that my whole life hinges on one decision is a lie. Sometimes you can change those things for the better and sometimes you need to just kiss them and thank them for making you who you are. I can start to live the life I want right now, in this instant, without doing any fixing of the past or replaying what could have been different.

The freedom I have is powerful when I remember what’s stopping me from living—really living—that unlived life I dream about. The one where I’m the person who gets to do what I want to do. Where I get paid to do something I love. Where I decide how I want to spend my time. Where I create things that I care about and want to share. Where I’m vulnerable and invite people to share my life and my struggles and in return, I feel less lonely and afraid that I’m the only one who feels the way I do.Where I feel less alienated and more human—alive. I have the chance to express myself and feel embraced and understood.

I was stopping myself from living the life I want to live and it’s a daily, hourly, moment by moment struggle to tell myself to get the hell out of my way. When I do, it’s worth it. And that makes it much easier to choose as time goes on.

Burning Man proved to be the best place to test my new self. There, it was easy to be the self I want to be all the time because I was around a community of people seeking their true selves too. It was so easy that I walked around the streets with a smile on my face and a garland of toilet paper rolls flowing from my cowboy hat. Even at Burning Man—a place where I was offered some lemonade from a man on stilts who invented a lemonade dispenser out of a body part—even at Burning Man—that was enough to get people to stop and take notice.

I loved it. The purpose I had in wearing my toilet paper head dress was to ask a simple question of people: “What’s stopping you?” I asked them to write it on a roll and promised it would be placed in the Temple of Flux to burn. I couldn’t do much for them but tell them I hoped it would be released. In that simple act, some of them told me it was. That was amazing.

As the mediator for these unwanted barriers, the experience was not only a symbolic shedding of the shadow of my own insecure, fearful self but a chance to offer that same hope to others. I loved that too. I also realized that a lot of my insecurities and hang-ups are shared by people who really look like they have it all together (which tends to be my assessment of most of the people I talk to—that they’ve got things together more than I do). But they are plagued by the same things that nag me—fear of success, fear of failure, self-loathing. I’m not alone.

As I walked around the block carrying these written and unspoken burdens on my head, the sun started to burn my shoulders and I also started to think about bearing the burden of everyone else’s barriers. When I thought about it, I realized that they weren’t my burdens to bear and that made me smile. I repeated it to myself over and over in my head: “these aren’t your burdens to bear”—and that made me cry.

I worry a lot, and too much about other people’s well-being. Until this point, I have literally made a career out of it. For me, it’s time to stop worrying about other people’s burdens, stop carrying them as my own, and release them along with my own. The ideal of selflessness has been one of my excuses to stop myself from living the life that I believe is waiting for me. Probably the most dangerous and selfish one.

When I dropped off the fears and barriers at the Temple, knowing they would be burned in a beautiful ritual, I serendipitously hung them across from a message that said “Let it all go.” In that moment, I did. I know that doesn’t mean that I won’t try to go back into my mind, gather up the pieces again and collect them in my arms—overflowing, holding on to my own fears and worrying about everyone else’s, indulging in self-pity once in awhile and always longer than I should.

What’s stopping you? Let it all go. And let it all go again when it creeps back in.

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Posted in Tell A Story | 2 Comments »

The Thigh Bone’s Connected to the Knee Bone: Part 3

Written by on 15th October 2010

Check out part 1 and part 2 of this story to read how I began the process of taking responsibility for my story about my health.

I cried, I journaled, I prayed about how crappy I felt about my relationship to my health. Which is where we left off yesterday and where I was feeling some measure of clarity about a next step. Ready for it? Cool. Here is the thought that immediately popped into my mind:

Get online and intuitively google.

Huh? Wait. Screwing around online has become my default avoidance technique. I think I may have actually rolled my eyes. Surely, this was me just trying to get out of taking further responsibility, right?

Now, I don’t really understand how intuition works. I just know that it does. And that I rarely regret following a gut instinct. So I took a deep breath and hopped online, deciding simply to stay awake (in the spiritual sense) and see what I discovered.

There are a few important background notes worth mentioning here:

1. I’m a skeptic. It’s a family trait. And it’s extremely valuable. It’s what keeps me from being cultish about religion, new age fads and myriad ideological camps. It’s also what makes me a late adopter to everything from useful technologies to useful ideas.

2. I’ve increasingly become attuned to the fact that we see as though “through a glass, darkly.” In other words, the longer I live and the longer I study and the longer I walk alongside my clients in their own processes of discovery, the more convinced I’ve become that very little (if any) of life is black and white and that we have no choice but to move forward in partial blindness.

3. I’ve tried a lot of different things. In the realm of health, I’ve seen chiropractors, neurologists, voice pathologists, surgeons, physical therapists and an acupuncturist. That’s probably a short list.

Back to the internet.

So I’m googling away, feeling my way from site to site, following my intuition. And I come across a page that mentions something called Tension Myositis Syndrome, coined by a Dr. John Sarno of NYU’s Rusk Institute. TMS is a psychosomatic disorder, and the theory behind it states that the brain seeks to distract the individual from painful, unconscious emotions so it uses the nervous system to restrict blood flow to specific body parts and this mild oxygen deprivation causes pain. The focus and attention to the pain keeps you from experiencing said painful emotions. Apparently, these painful emotions can be pretty run of the mill stuff but for whatever reason the individual finds them unacceptable and therefore represses them. The brain wants to make sure it stays this way.

While TMS is most often diagnosed in back pain – of which I have none – it has also been connected to almost every chronic, idiopathic problem I have ever had.  I ordered the book, The Divided Mind, by Dr. Sarno and while dragging my skepticism through the muck of it, became even more convinced that this syndrome is worth exploring. Part of what has convinced me is actually physical: my arm pain has decreased by about 30% since first reading about TMS and I notice the pain spikes whenever I’m angry or irritated. And then all I think about is the physical discomfort.

But reading the book also leaves me feeling depressed. I am aware that I’d much rather deal with physical problems than psychological ones. That awareness depresses me even more. I like to think of myself as emotionally attuned and open to dealing with whatever issues I have.To help me sort through all of this, I made an appointment to go see a doctor who specializes in TMS to see which of my chronic conditions might stem from psychological factors and which of them might, say, result from a need for new orthotics.

Quite frankly, the long and short of this has very little to do with whatever is causing my physical problems. It has to do with my relationship to them. It has to do with my story about my health and my willingness to take responsibility for it. It reminds me of when I first began an effort to change my financial picture. While a desired outcome may have been more money coming in through my business, it really boiled down to whether or not I could develop a healthy relationship with my finances, whatever they looked like. For richer or poorer, right?

The same is true with our bodies, with our health and wellness. And whether I have TMS or Parkinson’s or have just hit an odd rough patch, I am responsible for how I respond, for what I bring to the table, for how I act in relationship. Will I obsess over what’s not working? Will I go through long periods of not doing anything to address my problems? Will I remember that the thigh bone’s connected to the knee bone, that there is a interrelatedness in all things? And if the cause of my symptoms is psychological, will I be brave enough to follow through?

I don’t know if I’m anywhere near resolution to my chronic health concerns. I don’t know if the path will be easy or hard. What I do know is that I am no longer out of integrity. I can get up in front of a room of people, share with them about how to craft their own powerful stories about health and wellness and know that I’m along for the ride, too. That I have begun changing my own story.

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Posted in health | 7 Comments »

Put It Up, Tear It Down

Written by on 15th September 2010

Nearly a year ago I designed a series of posters to advertise my coaching business around town. If you live in a city, you’re used to seeing such business and event posters on telephone poles, light posts and in every coffee shop’s designated advertising area. I decided I wanted to experiment with this method of promotion. So I created a series of four clever posters to get the word out. They rocked. They were fun, smart and playful. They became known to me as “my poster campaign.”

The only problem was, I never went campaigning.

It was four months, post-design, before I actually got them printed. And then they sat. They sat on my dining room table. They sat in my office. They sat in my husband’s office. It wasn’t until last week that I stuffed them in a shoulder bag along with a roll of packing tape, a staple gun and a box of tacks and hit the streets. Last week, people! Last week.

There are lots of “reasons” for this delay, many of which I’ve been vaguely present to during these 12 months of avoidance. But the heart of my resistance didn’t become clear to me until after I’d hung the posters. After all, my experience with marketing online – via email, facebook, my website, whatever – has generally been a positive one. Even when there’s no active support for what I’m doing, there is hardly active rejection. Rejection tends to show up as passivity. Additionally, I’ve been doing this long enough and have enough ego strength that even if I put something out there and no one bites, I don’t find myself insecure or troubled and anxious.

But here’s the difference between online marketing and said poster campaign: what I put online, no one can take down or deface; what I hang on a telephone poll, anyone can take down. Or tear in half. Or doodle on. People encounter my business online either because they’ve knowingly entered my space or because I’ve been given permission to enter theirs. Hanging posters around my neighborhood was an act of invasion, a way of showing up uninvited.

Photo © Scott Gleeson Blue

I didn’t seen this coming, oddly enough. I knew I was dragging my heels, but couldn’t fully see why this kind of marketing would be all that different than my other forms of marketing.  I hadn’t anticipated that I would cringe every time I saw a poster missing or defaced. Or that I’d have to coach myself through morning strolls in the neighborhood, knowing that I’d be getting a more public kind of feedback than I’m accustomed to.

This experience reminds my of an earlier post wherein I mentioned that owning a business is like creating your own personal and spiritual development incubator. It’s like a fast-track to growth. (Or a slow track, depending on how long you avoid your own ideas!) I’m pleased to report that my skin feels a little thicker this week and that I’m no longer compulsively keeping tabs on my own posters.

I do what I do because it helps people get to the stuff that matters to them. If showing up uninvited and having to sit in my own discomfort means that someone who needs my support actually gets what they need, it’s totally worth it. And if showing up uninvited and having to sit in my own discomfort means that no one responds to the poster campaign but that I learn to give myself the emotional support I need, it’s totally worth it.

Self-reflection aside, I’d like to offer one tidbit for those of you looking to spread the word in this manner. Leave your phone number off the poster unless you want to be drunk-dialed at 11pm on a Friday night, with the request to attend a dance party. Just sayin’.

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Posted in fear | 2 Comments »

Day 28: Yeehaw! (30th Birthday Countdown)

Written by on 15th March 2010

As a countdown to my 30th birthday on March 18, I’ve committed to offering 30 people, things and experiences I want to celebrate from the last 30 years. Grab a piece of cake and enjoy reading!

I was always a good kid. Not entirely a goodie two shoes, but almost. I was definitely what you’d call a fine, upstanding lass.

So you might imagine the horror, the utter sense of failure I felt as an 11 year old when I got detention for the first time. This wasn’t a sit-on-the-bench-for-20-minutes-during-gym-class kind of detention, either. This was the kind where you had to bring a slip home for your parent to sign. More painfully, it came with this lecture from my teacher:

“I might have expected some of the boys in the class to behave this way. But not you.”

I was totally ashamed. I remember walking home from school as slowly as I could that day, dreading the reaction my dad would have when I presented him with the slip, knowing he’d lecture me and express his disappointment. Once I got in the door, however, I just wanted to rip the bandaid off as quickly as possible, so I spilled the beans.

“Dad, you need to sign this slip. I got detention.”

“What for?” he asked, looking up from the newspaper.

“Well, we were in music class and singing some song and it sounded kinda country to me and so at the end I said, really quietly, ‘Yeehaw!’ I thought only Canice could hear and she would find it funny, but it turns out Mr. Draper did and now I have to go to detention. And he told me I was acting like the boys.”

I’m convinced that parents have no choice but to commit various crimes in the lives of their children. More often than not, however, parents tend to provide amazing moments of salvation. My dad raised his eyebrows, chortled, signed the paper and said:

“Well, that’s ridiculous. You got detention for that?!?”

And once I realized he wasn’t calling my behavior ridiculous, together we laughed about it and made fun of Mr. Draper for being so uptight and gendered about the whole thing.

These days, I will occasionally get myself in trouble intentionally. I’ll have that momentary awareness that I can back off and be “good” or I can move forward and behave just a little bit badly. You know, like the boys. Because I received that permission nearly 20 years ago, the cost of behaving badly doesn’t seem so high these days (if you know me well, you’re aware that this is particularly true when being funny is on the table).

In a world that still rewards people in general – and women in particular – for not stepping out of line, I must celebrate my 11 year old self who took the risk to make her friend laugh in music class. And Mr. Draper, for allowing me the opportunity to feel woefully imperfect. And my father, for teaching me that it was good for me, too, to be a boy.

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Posted in celebration, change, fear | No Comments »

Day 25: Traveling (30th Birthday Countdown)

Written by on 12th March 2010

As a countdown to my 30th birthday on March 18, I’ve committed to offering 30 people, things and experiences I want to celebrate from the last 30 years. Grab a piece of cake and enjoy reading!

Speaking of Spanish shoes, I’m leaving for Spain today with the love of my life. We’re going to hit up Sevilla and tool around the countryside. Oh, and we’re fitting in a short jaunt to Marrakech because, well…did you know Africa is so close to Spain?!?

Last March 18, one of Scott’s birthday gifts to me was an invitation to cash in all our carefully accrued credit card points and hit up the European destination of my choice for my 30th birthday. I couldn’t have come up with a better gift myself!

(From the latest of my international travels: a solo trip to Guatemala to visit my mom.)

But I’d like to tell you a secret: I’m a little intimidated. As a matter of fact, I’m always a little intimidated when going to a foreign land – even if it’s just a party where everyone else seems to know one another or a boutique where I am clearly out priced. Which is precisely why I do these things and, to the point, why I travel.

An example:

In 2001, my dad I were spending two weeks in the Umbrian province of Italy and we decided to go for a hike in a nearby state park. We were discussing the Italian flora and the oddly frequent “Madonna con Bambino” statues when – out of nowhere! – we found ourselves in a very precarious situation. We were surrounded by a dozen skinny-to-the-bone canines in what seemed to be a country “village” of three dilapidated buildings. Clearly, we were lost and possibly, we were dinner.By the time a young Italian woman with a babe at her breast materialized, called off the dogs and pointed us in the right direction, we had nearly become Catholic converts and had already begun praying to Anthony, patron saint of lost things. We were also moments away from losing our bodily functions.

Intimidating? Yes.

I don’t know what adventures await this next leg. I will no doubt return home feeling more competent, curious and humble. I will be bigger and the world will feel smaller. Which is good because I’ve got this business I run and this love affair I maintain and a crazy family I spend time with. Somehow, packs of growling dogs who definitively do not speak English manage to put all of those adventures in perspective.

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Posted in celebration, change, fear, travel | 2 Comments »

On Being Happy

Written by on 26th May 2009

Did you know that happiness is all the rage?

According to this article by Carlin Flora in Psychology Today, 4,000 books were published on just that topic last year. To compare, just 50 were released in 2000. Unfortunately this hasn’t actually left us any happier.  Flora writes:

We Americans tend to grab superficial quick fixes such as extravagant purchases and fatty foods to subdue any negative feelings that overcome us. . .  Indeed, a body of research shows instant indulgences do calm us down—for a few moments. But they leave us poorer, physically unhealthy, and generally more miserable in the long run.

The article goes on to deepen the conversation around happiness – what it is and what the research says will help you get it. Of particular interest is the assertion that “getting what you want doesn’t bring lasting happiness.” Because humans are so adaptable, we immediately want something more when we reach a goal, win a prize, purchase a new item.

We begin coveting another worldly possession or eyeing a social advancement. But such an approach keeps us tethered to the “hedonic treadmill,” where happiness is always just out of reach, one toy or one notch away. It’s possible to get off the treadmill entirely . . . by focusing on activities that are dynamic, surprising, and attention-absorbing, and thus less likely to bore us than, say, acquiring shiny stuff.

In short, it’s about sustainability.  Which brings me to this question: How are you getting off the treadmill?

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Posted in fear, happiness, inspiration | 1 Comment »

If You Like It

Written by on 5th May 2009

I didn’t notice my fear of commitment until college, when a kind friend suggested that yes, I could actually make plans on Thursday morning for Friday night. I didn’t need to keep my options open. In retrospect I can see the fear surfacing in any number of ways. I was always hedging, waiting, resisting.

And then I got married and have remained passionately so for nearly 7 years. And then I moved to a new city and have lived here for over 4 years. And then I stopped quitting jobs and have successfully created and loved the business I started three years ago.

And then two weeks ago my life was just so great right where it was that I made a big fat commitment to it and bought my first house. The morning after moving in? I wake up and almost immediately burst into tears.

You see, I live in the city, and the new street apparently has THE MOST RELIABLE BUS SERVICE in the whole world. Additionally, every public school in the area must send their outdated buses careening down our street between 7 and 8am, jarring their brakes to loosely respect the stop sign at the corner. In other words, it’s a little noisier than my previous city street.

Upon hearing of my woes my wise friend, Maria, said, “Oh, you just haven’t gotten used to the noise yet.” Her comment was almost flippant, really, and this flippancy made my day. Of course! I just hadn’t gotten used to it yet!

And she’s right. Seven days in, I now sleep like a rock (albeit with the windows closed and earplugs in, if  in bed past 7am).

Which is why (excluding the feminist critique for now) I agree with Beyonce: If you like it, put a ring on it. Commitment to anything generally takes some getting used to. But if my commitment to my marriage, to my business and to my city has taught me anything, it’s that life is simply richer and more satisying as a result.

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Posted in change, commitment, fear | 3 Comments »


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“When I am asked for a referral to a life coach, Jennifer is on the top of my list. If you seek results, personal transformation and want to enjoy the process, Jennifer Gleeson Blue does not disappoint. I consistently hear rave reviews from all whom I have referred to her for life coaching.” – Seth Kaufman, Philadelphia, PA