Posts Tagged ‘work’

If it’s easy, should it be free?

I often speak with strangers and friends who are interested in becoming coaches and want to hear about my experience with coach training, setting up a business, client services, etc. Invariably, a statement like this is made:

But I feel like I’ve been coaching for most of my life. It comes naturally to me. How can I charge for something that’s so easy?

To which I invariably reply:

Right. Because you should only get paid if you have to struggle to produce your work. If it’s difficult for you.

2 ways to do everything
Photo courtesy D’Arcy Norman

 

My clients sometimes come to me with similar attitudes. I work with a lot of creative and entrepreneurial types and, often, the way they make – or want to make – money (as in the actual product or service, not necessarily the business of selling said product or service) comes naturally. It’s easy. And for that, they feel badly. So they might undercharge. Or look for employment in a more difficult arena. Or never even set up shop in the first place.

Now, I’m not advocating for the follow-your-passion-and-become-a-millionaire ideology. On that front, I hold similar views as espoused in this post by Brett Kelly. I am saying, however, that what’s easy for you isn’t easy for everyone. And that, in any event, value isn’t always based on difficulty.

What’s your story around this? Do you have trouble thinking about making money or generally being employed doing something that comes naturally to you?

Leap and the Net Will Appear

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

Leap and the net will appear. That quote comes from Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way, a book that led me to find a coach and played a part in a series of leaps I would take in my life.

It all began with my simple desire to write. I enjoyed writing when I actually did it, which was rarely. Part of the problem was laziness, and part of it was lack of inspiration. What would I write about? And then there was the matter of my inner critic rearing its ugly head, saying why bother? Who will read it? I would occasionally try to write, but often felt blocked. Yet I still found myself buying books about writing, reading articles about writing, and listening to interviews with writers, living vicariously through their tales of creative fulfillment. Clearly, I had some desire to write.

A friend suggested The Artist’s Way, which is basically a 12-week program involving journaling and reflective exercises geared toward silencing your inner critic and discovering or reconnecting with your creative side. I immediately bought a copy, completed (and enjoyed) the first exercise, and then let the book sit around for another few weeks as I made half-hearted attempts to continue with it. I’d always been a good student, but part of the motivation in school was having to complete assignments and turn them in for a grade. I’m no longer in school, have no teachers, no assignments, no deadlines, no pressure, and therefore, no motivation. But I still wanted to complete the exercises in the book, get in touch with my creative side, and establish a regular writing practice. My husband, who had been working with a life coach through his job, suggested hiring one for my creative needs. That way I would have someone to check in with periodically, someone to motivate me and help me set goals, and someone to hold me accountable for meeting those goals.


Leap #1 – Hiring a Life Coach

This may not seem like much of a leap to some people, but please understand; I was a very private person who did not disclose a great deal of information about myself to others. The thought of discussing myself, my fears and insecurities, and my creative goals with someone I didn’t know (or even with someone I did know) was outside of my comfort zone. I also had some resistance to telling people I wanted to write because I feared they would expect me to churn out a best-selling novel or two, and I would feel like a failure if I didn’t.

I found a delightful coach whose warmth and sense of humor immediately put to rest my concerns, fears, and resistance. And as luck would have it, she also loves to write and was familiar with The Artist’s Way. We worked together for several months, during which time I completed all the exercises in the book and established a regular writing routine. I was very happy with my coaching experience and proud of my accomplishment, but I had a burning question: what now?


Leap #2 – Giving Speeches
Huh? How did I go from quietly writing for my own sense of creative fulfillment to getting up in front of a room full of people and giving a speech? Well, I felt like I needed to take things a step further. My concern was that this new writing routine would just be a fleeting thing, and that in a few weeks I would get lazy again. One thing I know about myself is that once I take action, I love to reward myself with inaction.

There was one piece of writing, a personal and somewhat humorous essay about my childhood, which I kept reading out loud. The more I thought about it, the more I realized I had written a speech, and I felt like I wanted to share it. This was very out of character for me, yet I yearned to find my voice and tell my story. My husband belonged to a Toastmasters group, and the thought ‘why don’t you join?’ kept bobbing to the surface of my mind. I desperately tried to drown this thought, but it kept coming up for air and getting stronger each time. I even pictured myself getting up, giving the speech, and feeling the emotion of every word and phrase. Then I would stop myself and say, are you insane? Why would you want to put yourself through that?

I discussed the idea of public speaking with my coach. It went like this:

Me: (exasperated & dismissive) “I can’t believe I’m even thinking about this! I’m an introvert! We don’t do this stuff voluntarily!”

JGB: (calmly & rationally) “We are more than just our Myers-Briggs personality types.”

What a wise woman! She proceeded to coach around the issues I was having, and we finally negotiated an action step for me to take. I would visit the Toastmasters group, only as a guest, just to observe. A baby step. That worked out quite well, as I not only joined the group, I also delivered my first speech at the next meeting. It was very empowering, to say the least. Toastmasters also gave me the structure and deadlines I needed to motivate myself to write.

I like to think of giving speeches as my version of bungee jumping — something new and different and challenging for me, and a great way to step outside of myself and lean into my discomfort. My initial desire to write led me to public speaking, which led me to co-presenting an all-day workshop that evolved from one of my speeches. This would have been unthinkable to the pre-coaching me.


Leap #3 – Quitting my job to pursue my passion
So did I quit my job to pursue my passion for writing? No, I did not. Did I quit my job to pursue my passion for public speaking? No, I did not. I quit my job to pursue my passion for yoga.

You see, something interesting happened as a result of my journey from coaching to writing to public speaking. I not only discovered that my true passion was yoga, I also realized that it could be my dream career. Just to be clear, I love writing and public speaking, but I’ve been having a torrid love affair with yoga for many years, and only after giving speeches did I realize I had the courage (and the skills) to lead a yoga class. This realization led to getting my yoga teacher certification, which led to one teaching gig, which led to many more opportunities, and those opportunities led me to the ultimate leap of quitting my full-time job as a librarian to pursue my passion for teaching yoga.

It’s amazing to think about how my life unfolded and expanded since that very first coaching session!

Now, I’m not suggesting that you run right out to get a copy of The Artist’s Way, quit your job and the universe will immediately shower you with rainbows, puppies, and free candy. But what I am encouraging you to do is get clear on what you want and take action. Take action on whatever it is that you’ve been holding back from. Maybe it’s something as simple as getting back into a writing routine, or maybe it’s something as grand as writing a best-selling novel. Maybe it’s as simple as delivering your first speech, or as grand as becoming a motivational speaker. Whatever it is, take action, even if it’s a baby step in the right direction. Those baby steps are powerful! They lead to big, grown-up steps, and grown-up steps lead to leaps, and trust me, when you leap, the net will appear.

Three Stories

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

I teach theater and drama at a university, where I also run a small theater program, producing and directing student plays. This year I’m on sabbatical from the university, freed from my teaching and directing responsibilities and in pursuit of experiences which will enrich my work. Among the highlights of the sabbatical so far: I’m currently designing sound for a professional theater production in New England; an article I wrote has been accepted for publication in a national journal; I have auditioned for and been cast in a professional production of a Shakespeare play in one of America’s biggest cities.

Now let me construct a set of narratives on which these facts may be hung, three stories I can tell myself to explain these facts, all of them “true.” Here’s one story: I’m pretty hot stuff. I’m at the top of my game. After all, to secure my services as designer and as actor, these theater companies are willing to shell out cash: the litmus test of professional activity. And I’m getting published, the gold standard for academic achievement. I’m very successful. Professional artist, serious scholar. You must be impressed.

Here’s another true story: I’m bogus. Getting “paid”? Get real. Sure, there’s some money in those gigs, but it’s a pittance, a stipend–a pity paycheck, really. And that New England theater company? It’s very small, and it performs in the boondocks. If I weren’t such a loser, I’d instead be designing gee-whiz sound effects for a Broadway production that gets favorably reviewed in the New York Times. Likewise with the Shakespeare: I’m cast in a very small role in a smallish production, and of course if I were truly successful I would be playing Lear on the West End, getting written up in the Times of London and courted by movie moguls. And don’t even get me started about that article! It’s not going to appear in some top-flight academic publication, after all, but rather in a little journal rooted in the faith tradition of barely a score of colleges around the country. If I were worth my academic salt, I’d be publishing a book of ground-breaking criticism or a Pulitzer Prize-winning play. But I’m not doing those things, so I must be bogus. I don’t measure up. I fall short. You must find me laughable, pathetic.

A third true story: I’m blessed. I’m learning so much about sound design that will be useful in the theater and in the classroom, and I’m working with wildly enthusiastic and surprisingly skilled people, who have enough discipline and moxie to pull this off. And I’m helping them do it–and I’m having a blast. And then I get to immerse myself in Shakespeare for THREE MONTHS! For me, a lover of his language, this is to die for. Plus I’ll learn so much about both acting and directing–and a thousand other things about theater–that I can weave into my own practice and teaching. And I’ll be doing this with people whose skill level will force me to raise my own, while collectively we enable a few thousand people to experience the work of perhaps the greatest dramatist ever. What an opportunity! And in the meantime, I’ve written something that will catch the attention of several hundred serious and thoughtful people (as opposed to the handful who read any given article in most academic journals), and generate authentic discussion about issues they find important. For a writer, what greater gift? Like I say, I’m blessed. You must think I’m . . . well, actually, it doesn’t matter what you think. I’m blessed.

Again, these stories are all true: that is, all of the claims I’ve made in each one are accurate. And each of them has its value. The first story is my marketing story: the one I’ll tell my dean, when I return from sabbatical. The second story is the one I tell myself when I start taking the first story seriously. This is my reality-check story. But the story most likely to lead in a personally productive direction is of course the third, because it focuses on the real value of my experience, to myself and to others. This is a love story. When our stories are all about our success or our failure, or about how we’re being perceived, we’re missing the point. Better to count our blessings, and marshall our facts of life into a narrative of gratitude and joy.

A Heavy-Handed Analogy for Choosing a Direction

It’s been over a year since we moved in to our house and my husband and I are finally ready to paint the downstairs. We painted the 2nd floor rooms in distinct, bold colors before moving in and have now grown tired of looking at creamy white walls on the 1st level. Living in an open-style row home with rooms that flow together, we want three complimentary colors for the sun room, living room and dining room.

So two nights ago, off we went to Lowe’s, which has a nice selection of affordable, no-VOC paints. We opted for samples, preferring to err on the side of caution (note: I’ve painted entire rooms only to later discover I don’t like the color).

Lowe’s visit #1:
Sand and Sage, Creamy Chocolate, Foreshadow

Totally didn’t work. All the colors were darker and more purple than we’d ever have imagined. They reminded me of eyeshadow I wore in the 10th grade.

Lowe’s visit #2:
Azure Snow, Shoreline Haze, Tea Stain

Or so we thought. Turns out the dude behind the paint counter, who appeared hopped up on speed, actually skipped Shoreline Haze and gave us Tea Stain twice. But these colors we liked. There was nothing dark enough for the living room, however, and I wasn’t convinced that Shoreline Haze, the original color we expected to sample, would cut it either.

Lowe’s visit #3:
Shoreline Haze, Fairmont Penthouse Stone

Looking good! Seven samples later and we’ve actually found a palette we can commit to. We’ll be buying gallons this evening.

(The Wall of Samples)

I promised a heavy-handed analogy so here it is: choosing your paint colors is much like choosing your direction in life. Here are some parallel lessons:

Lesson 1: It’s a good idea to do a little sampling.
I was really tempted to take our first choices, spend many hours, roughly $120 on several gallons of paint and just hope for the best. I would have been very disappointed and frustrated. I also would have found some way to blame my husband for this error, since disappointment and frustration always bring out my best.

Lesson 2: Sampling too much may not be helpful.
Truth be told, there’s a part of me that would prefer to sample about 10 more colors. At least. But experience tells me that 10 more colors won’t make me any happier with the final result because choosing something always means not choosing something else. No matter what excellent choice I make, I’m missing out on another good possibility.

Lesson 3: You can always change your paint colors.
Let’s say it turns out Fairmont Penthouse Stone makes us feel like we’re hanging out in a cardboard box drinking out of a mug with more than one Tea Stain while we’re being smothered by a Shoreline Haze. Well, then it’s back to Lowe’s we go. A hassle? Yes. Doable? Absolutely.

Day 29: Get There From Here (30th Birthday Countdown)

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!

Like most 20-somethings, I’ve spent a lot of this last decade figuring out what the heck I’m good at, what interests me and what I find to be meaningful. Also like most 20-somethings, I’ve done a lot of that exploration in the realm of career. I couldn’t be happier with where this exploration has led me.

Get There From Here – the name of my business (which I hope you’ve noticed, ahem) -is comprised of two integrated realms: coaching and entrepreneurship. I want to celebrate them separately in this post.

Coaching

In 2006 – days before I was scheduled to depart for Toronto to begin my coach training – I shot my own coach an email:

“Patt – Even if I decide I do not want to set up my own coaching practice after I get through the training, you really think the training itself will be worth it?”

Here answer was an unequivocal YES and she was right.

Not only did I not encounter a bunch of flaky, new-aged, very not-funny people, but I embarked on a process that has redefined the way I experience the world. Being a coach has enabled me to drop the judgment; I am attuned to what is said and unsaid; I know how to take good care of myself; I ask for what I want.

Then, of course, there are my clients. These days, with a flourishing coaching practice, I am particularly aware of the tremendous gift it is to partner with individuals to fulfill creative endeavors, identify new careers, enhance their effectiveness as leaders or build their own ventures. Some evenings after a long day of calls I will sit and stare at the wall, my eyes welling up, as I wonder how it has come to pass that I am possibly this fortunate to help others craft their own powerful life stories.

(My class at Coach University.)

Entrepreneurship

And then there is the business.

I became convinced in my early 20s that I must not like to work. What other reason could possibly explain my extreme dissatisfaction with every job I held? Turns out, there were myriad reasons, not the least of which was that I had a really hard time working hard for someone else on what it was they thought I should to in order that they might be successful. I didn’t like being a cog in a business I didn’t care about.

So after years of job hopping, I discovered coaching and decided to hang my shingle.

Being an entrepreneur isn’t for everyone. It is however, one of the shortest of short-cuts to personal and spiritual development that I have yet to experience or witness. Seriously. Like marriage (and like parenting, I imagine), it’s like this constant mirror hanging in front of my face affirming what is whole and highlighting what is broken. It’s painfully uncanny in it’s constant need to truth-tell.

Then there is just the fun part: The fact that this is something I created. That I can take my work in whatever direction suits me. That I don’t have to call a boss when I am sick.

At the end of the day, I am working harder than I ever have in ways that bring tremendous amounts of meaning to my life and apparent good to the world. Get There From Here provides an perfect umbrella under which I get to experience these amazing, amazing gifts!


    Get There Now


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“Jen is an effective no-nonsense get-er-done East Coast gal with a sensitive side.”Dave, Los Angeles