I was walking through the winter
woods in Colorado
last year when I realized that every creature in the forest plays an important
Plants take up nutrients from sunlight and soil and
transform them into flowers, seeds, and leaves that nourish insects and birds.
Insects and birds, in turn, feed larger animals who make their own
contributions, helping to maintain balance, creating carbon dioxide for the
flora, and eventually returning their bodies to the earth so that plants can
make the nutrients available once again. Even rocks play a part, providing
shelter and eventually wearing down into mineral-rich dirt that gives plants a
place to grow.
Each creature fulfills its purpose naturally, without
trying, just by being who it is and doing what it’s designed to do. They don’t
have to strive, self-improve, or set New Year’s resolutions to play their role.
The squirrel may not be intending to safeguard the future of
the forest when he buries an acorn and forgets to dig it up, but he
nevertheless does. Similarly, the bee may not know that all life depends on
her, but she still ensures the reproduction of plants when she gathers her
It occurred to me that humans are designed to do the same
We come into this world with bodies wired to serve a purpose just by being
who we are.
But we learn at a young age to analyze and doubt, to ignore
and deny, to strive and override. And then we forget.
Humans, after all, in our ongoing quest for control and
predictability, have largely removed ourselves from natural cycles.
We’ve created our own ecosystems that either exclude other
species or attempt to bend them to our will. Though we’ve gained a lot from our
efforts, we’ve lost far more, including the intrinsic, effortless purpose that
comes from playing our native role in the natural world.
As a result, most of us wander through our lives unable to
see what function we serve, but like everything else on this planet, we’re
wired to serve one.
This missing sense of purpose is like a phantom limb that causes us
excruciating, if unacknowledged pain.
After talking with hundreds of diverse people who long to
find more meaning in their lives, I’ve come to believe that this collective
estrangement and thirst for belonging affect just about everyone, though not
everyone has the luxury to feel it, and some are more sensitive to it than
I find it reassuring to understand why I’ve always felt a longing, a lack of belonging, and a deep grief at not knowing how to take my place in the family of things (to quote Mary Oliver).
And I’ve found that alongside the
ever-present grief, there’s always something else: A knowing. A quickening. A
Because though we can and do lose touch with our wild purpose, it’s always
there, under the surface, trying to get our attention.
Sometimes it speaks to us through a
vague longing and loneliness. Other times it calls to us with a lack of energy
and motivation, a growing dissatisfaction or unease, or an inability to
continue pushing on as before. It can even appear as physical ailments, anxiety
and depression, or other “disorders.”
We rediscover our wild purpose by
learning to inhabit and listen to our bodies once again; by following our
instincts; and by reconnecting to ourselves, other people, and the natural
There’s a pull in all of us, quiet
but persistent, and when we put our fears and egoic concerns aside long enough
to follow it, we rediscover our role in the ecosystem of life.
We don’t have to do anything to
fulfill our natural purpose; we simply need to relax enough for it to emerge on
its own, becoming more of who we already are over time.
The wilds are calling all of us home. The question is: will we listen?
Questions to work with:
What’s wild that wants to move in me?
What makes me feel more connected to myself, to other people, and to the wider living world? How can I deepen these connections?
What am I already contributing to other beings that comes so naturally that it doesn’t even seem like a gift to me?
What are my heart, body, and instincts moving me towards or away from?
What ideas am I rejecting because they seem scary, uncertain, impractical, or illogical?
Take Your Place in the Family of Things
I love helping other people learn how to fulfill their wild purpose. If you’d like help, please reach out. I’ve just opened another cohort of Pathfinders Group Coaching, which is one of the most powerful programs I offer to clarify the purpose that’s calling you and take practical steps towards it. Pathfinders offers a unique combination of community, support, and individualized feedback. To find out more, fill out an application so we can set up a time to talk.
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I’m still not totally sure why, but
I’ve been struggling recently.
Not externally, with how things are
going for me right now, which is actually amazingly well given what’s going on
in the world.
Rather, I’ve been struggling
internally, with strong waves of emotions that at one point got so intense that
I wondered if I was getting depressed again. Depression is rare for me these
days, but it does happen, and though it isn’t enjoyable, I’ve also learned that
it isn’t the end of the world.
As I sat with my emotions, however, it occurred to me that what felt like depression was really just me panicking over feeling such strong sadness and longing and grief without knowing why. And then, like a falling leaf that lands inexplicably in your hand, the thought arrived: I don’t have to.
As in, I don’t have to panic; I can just feel.
So I did, and the wave washed over me, and after some tears I felt calmer and clearer, though no more insightful than before.
Then, a few days later I went on a walk with my aunt.
She reminded me that sometimes we feel emotions most intensely when we’re breaking through to something new.
What she said reminded me of a video
I’d seen of a cicada emerging from its shell. It’s something I’d never thought
much about: the fact that these large, flying insects in the treetops that seem
so confident in their noisy song all begin as mute, wingless nymphs that spend
their time hiding underground.
In the video I saw that documents
one such transformation, the cicada has an intense look of concentration on its
face, as if it’s using all of its focus and effort to bring its body out of the
old form and into the new.
The cicada looks bewildered as well,
like it’s not quite sure what’s going on, and when it finally emerges
completely, it appears to be clutching the shell from which it emerged for dear
I’ve seen cicadas in the morning
after emerging from their shells at night, and they’re motionless and nearly
helpless for a time, perhaps because they’re still working to integrate the
incredible transformation they’ve just been through.
I find it all strangely reassuring,
with a few important insights to offer:
1. Growth is hard. For everyone.
Transformation is scary,
bewildering, and disorienting. It doesn’t help that we don’t often get to
choose when it happens.
2. We’re not left alone in our struggle.
We can be sure that in any given moment, there are millions
of other beings out there who are also working hard to expand or emerge
3. We’re built for it.
We often forget this last one,
believing that we’re supposed to be succeeding, achieving, or enjoying instead.
But the one thing that every living thing on this planet has in common is growth.
We’re designed for it, so we can trust that no matter how awkward, messy, or
overwhelming the process is, we can handle it.
I still don’t know where my
expansion is headed. But I do know from previous experience that if I can stay
with the discomfort long enough, new worlds will open up.
And if none of these fit in your budget, keep your eyes out for a special announcement I’ll be sending at the end of December or early January about a collaboration I’m taking part in that will allow you to access Passion Quest (my online course) for the lowest price ever.
If you don’t yet get emails from me but would like to see the announcement, leave your information in the boxes below.
For most of us, the idea that there’s one career out there
that we’re meant to do is a shaky proposition at best.
In many ways we’re right to be skeptical. I’ve already addressed some of the biggest myths about finding your calling, but it bears repeating that your calling isn’t necessarily just one thing; it can take many forms and change over time; and it certainly isn’t going to make all your problems go away.
Still, I do believe that, as Rumi eloquently put it,
“everyone has been made for some particular work, and the desire for that work
has been put in every heart.”
Many of us doubt this seemingly too-good-to-be-true promise because
we think that if we’re meant to do some type of work, it should be obvious by
now. But that’s not the way the world works, especially these days.
In a culture that encourages us to disconnect from who we are and what we most deeply want, the work that calls us isn’t written across the sky. Instead, it shows itself in scattered bits and pieces that require interpretation and are easy to miss if you aren’t looking for them.
To help you know where to look, here’s a list of twelve
forms these clues can take:
You loved to do it as a child.
For many of us, our calling expressed itself much more
naturally when we were kids. Still, that doesn’t mean that it’s easy to
recognize: I loved to write stories when I was young, but it still took me
almost twenty years to realize that writing was a part of my calling (to find
out why, see #11 below).
In addition, you might need to interpret your childhood
joys. For example, if you liked to explore the woods behind your house, get
curious about what exactly it was that you loved: Discovering new paths? Being
in nature? Learning about the wider world? Moving your body? Experiencing
beauty? Making up stories about what you saw? Sharing your discoveries with
What matters isn’t so much what you did, but what about it
touched your heart and soul, your sense of possibility, or your experience of who
You feel energized after doing it.
This one is more straightforward: Which activities leave you
feeling more energized than when you started? What can you do for a long time
without getting tired?
If you’re not sure,
keep an energy journal for a few weeks, pay attention to your body as you do
various activities in and outside of work, and note how each impacts your
energy—both its quality and its quantity.
It brings you joy.
This is another intuitive one, but a lot of people can’t
find their calling because nothing they’re doing makes them feel joyful. If
this is your situation, you can try two things: first, engage in some new
activities, and secondly, expand your definition of what joy is.
For some people, joy feels like happiness. For others, it’s
more like love, fulfillment, excitement, strength, relaxation, ease, energy, or
freedom. Similarly, while joy can be intense, it isn’t always, and especially
in the beginning stages it more often shows up as a vague and only slightly
more positive, promising, or expansive emotion than what you were feeling
Follow your ambiguous feeling
of somewhat improved well being doesn’t sound as romantic as follow your bliss, but it’s practically
the same thing.
You want to learn about it.
When my husband tries to explain to me how a machine he
built works, my eyes glaze over and I have no idea what he’s talking about. But
when I’m reading about human growth and development, the words enter my brain
quickly and easily make sense.
You aren’t born already skillful at your calling, or being
an expert in it, but if it’s not easy to learn, it’s at least enjoyable.
It makes you lose track of time.
This one is pretty self explanatory as well, though it’s
important to know the difference between flow and compulsion.
Flow, your true calling clue, is “the mental state of
operation in which a person performing an activity is fully immersed in a
feeling of energized focus, full involvement, and enjoyment in the process of
the activity” (according to Wikipedia). Compulsion is the somewhat addictive
territory we all sometimes find ourselves in when seeking endless approval,
dopamine hits, or distraction on social media, video games, or television.
The difference isn’t what you’re doing but how engaged you
feel while doing it—in other words, whether you’re checked in or checked out
when you lose track of time.
6. You’re excited to talk to others about it.
You know how sometimes when you meet someone the
conversation is halting and awkward as you try to find common ground or else
feign interest in the weather? And other times, when you realize that you share
a hobby or interest, time flies by as the conversation seems to propel itself
forward of its own accord without any effort from you?
This may be obvious, but in case it’s not: Whatever you find
yourself talking about in the second scenario is very likely a key part of your
It’s how you make sense of the world.
My mother always said that as a kid, if I could just name
what was going on and find an image to describe it, I could make peace with it.
Like the time when I was five and my mother and I kept getting into big fights
and power struggles. One day I informed her that the problem was that I felt
like I ought to be king, and she ought to be my servant. Apparently I felt much
better after that, having put my feelings into words, though I’m not sure that my
mother shared my relief.
Words and metaphors are my cup of tea. My husband, however,
prefers to see how things work directly in order to figure them out. He
observes people’s actions when he wants to understand them, and when he needs
to learn how to do something, videos are his go-to form of instruction.
You can learn a lot from how you most easily perceive,
process, and make sense of information. For example, which senses (sight,
sound, taste, touch, or smell) are you most attuned to? Are you more literal or
symbolic? Linear or associative? Do you think in words, sounds, images,
feelings, sensations, or something else?
Like the other clues, none of these are likely to point you
towards any one job, but taken together, they can help you find a direction.
Others associate it with you.
It took me a long time to realize that nature is a big part
of my calling. Interestingly, others seemed to figure this out long before I
did. For years people commented on my love of animals or gave me paintings,
sculptures, and knick knacks depicting them. What was clearly obvious to them
didn’t become apparent to me until some time later, however, when I realized
that of the many things I care about, animals and nature are perhaps closest to
You’re jealous of others who do it.
I was listening recently to the podcast The Hilarious World of Depression and heard several comedians say
that before they began doing comedy, they would watch stand-up and either feel
jealous of the people on stage or else critique them harshly, thinking, “I can do that.” This often happened years before they began doing stand-up
Most of us have our own version of this, and we can learn a
lot from it. Jealousy isn’t so good at illuminating the truth about others, but
it can point us towards our own unacknowledged longings quite effectively.
You talk yourself out of it.
When I was twelve, I wrote a novel out of pure love. Yet for
the next twenty years, I somehow convinced myself that I wasn’t really a
Similarly, when I was twenty-five, a mental, emotional, and spiritual breakdown made me pay more attention to my thoughts and feelings, identify my patterns, and—with lots of help—find ways to change them for the better. I realized pretty early on that I enjoyed and had a knack for this type of work, and yet I told myself that I wouldn’t want to earn a living doing it because helping people heal would carry with it too much pressure.
Why would I go to such lengths to avoid doing more of the
things that brought me joy? In short, because I was scared; because I wanted it
so much, and because it really mattered to me, it felt like there was more to
lose. As Stephen Pressfield says, “The more scared we are of a work or calling,
the more sure we can be that we have to do it.”
If you’re like me, you won’t recognize the fear directly,
but if you find yourself talking yourself out of something, there’s a good
chance it’s because you’re scared, and that means…
You can be sure that
you have to do it.
It keeps popping up.
I don’t believe that we only get one chance to do the work that we’re here to do (which is lucky, given that we just saw how tenaciously many of us resist it).
I first found evidence to support this belief when I met a
woman who was worried that she’d make the wrong choice and miss her dream job
altogether. The idea actually made me laugh, because even if she’d let go of
her calling, it had clearly never let go of her.
This woman loved animals and photography and had thought
about becoming a pet photographer when she was in her twenties. Deciding that
was too impractical, she opted instead to get a graduate degree and landed a
job at a local university. Ten years later, however, she was surprised to find
that she had very little free time because her friends had seen some photos she
took of her dogs and were overwhelming her with requests to take pictures of
their own pets. In other words, despite her best efforts, she’d come full
circle back to her calling.
Since then, I’ve had many other clients who have had the
same idea arise again and again in various forms over the years, but they were
never quite sure that it was right for them. So they went through the coaching
process, taking the time to identify their power, passion, and purpose,
brainstorm possibilities, and explore different options, only to land on the very
same idea that kept popping up previously.
If you’re too stubborn to recognize an idea that’s calling
you, don’t be surprised if it grabs hold of you and refuses to let go, usually
by finding a way to get your attention over and over until you finally see that
you need it as much as it needs you.
It feels worthwhile regardless of the outcome.
There are many good reasons to care about outcomes: our need
to provide food, shelter, and clothing for ourselves or our families, for
example; our legitimate longing to be recognized for our talents; or our desire
to have a powerful positive impact on the world.
But there are other, equally compelling reasons to do things
simply because we want to, regardless of how they turn out: namely, because we
won’t experience joy, freedom, or a sense of belonging if we don’t.
Here’s what I mean:
I choose to have chickens regardless of how many eggs they lay (which is not as many as you might think, by the way) because I love the little brats so much;
I help others reconnect to themselves and hear their wisest inner guidance regardless of how much money I make doing it because it feels natural; and
I commit to writing stories regardless of whether or not lots of people like hem, or even read them, because it brings me so much joy.
Do I hope that someday I write a bestseller, make tons of
money coaching, or have chickens who don’t stop laying eggs every time the
temperature, their mood, and the planets and stars aren’t perfectly aligned? Of
course I do.
Will the form these activities take shift based on the
practical realities of my life? You bet.
But will I stop doing these things just because the outcomes
aren’t guaranteed? Not a chance.
I hope that you too can find something that’s worth doing no matter how it turns out. Even better, I hope that you give yourself permission to actually do it.
A client asked me this question recently, and I’ve heard
versions of it before. I understand why.
If you’re miserable at work but are surrounded by people who
seem to be enjoying and/or excelling at the very same job that makes you want
to flee; if you have a recurring pattern of being unhappy in your career; or even
if you’re just a naturally introspective person, this is a normal question to
The problem with answering it, I quickly realized when I made
the attempt, is that its complex nature and the various reasons people ask it
defy a one-size-fits-all response. So today we’re going to try something a
little bit different.
Today you get to choose your own adventure.
Adventure #1: If you’re asking whether the problem lies with you or your job because you worry that you’re not trying hard enough to make it work, click here.
If you’re asking because you don’t want to quit your job, find another, and then
realize that you’re still miserable, click here.
If you’re asking because you want to know which to adjust—yourself or your
job—to find you’re looking for, click here.
If you long to jump ship but think that with a little more discipline, skill, or effort, you could make yourself enjoy and/or thrive in a job that depletes you, then your Inner Critic is probably misleading you.
Inner Critics are prone to blame and all-or-nothing
thinking. They want you to believe that either you’re terrible, or your job is.
They’ll try to convince you that you’re unhappy because somebody is screwing
something up (most likely you).
The truth is, we all have unique interests and skills that
make us well-suited for some types of work and not-so-well-suited for others.
The way I see it, this is one of life’s magic tricks, because it means that
there are people who are well-equipped to solve the many different types of
problems in the world.
Often, however, the currents of life take us away from our most
needed path and deposit us in foreign waters. In other words, for whatever
reason, we find that we’re getting paid to work on a problem that actually
belongs to somebody else. When this is the case, no amount of willpower,
talent, or hard work will make that problem ours to solve.
If this is your adventure, resist the urge to judge or make
anybody wrong for your situation (most of all yourself). You’re just being invited
to answer a question that’s larger than who’s to blame or even whether to quit
your job. Your real question is:
How is the world asking me to share
my gifts right now?
The good news is, you can share your gifts wherever you are,
so there’s no urgency to figure anything out. Over time you can observe whether
your current job helps you employ your capabilities to good effect, in work or
outside of it, or whether you’re being called in a different direction.
It takes time to build up to earning our full living from
contributing our biggest (and frequently most hidden) talents to the problems
that are ours to solve, but as long as you’re finding ways to share your gifts
and letting them guide you towards opportunities for fuller expression, you’re
on the right path.
How Adventure #1 Turns Out:
You stop using your dissatisfaction (or exhaustion,
frustration, disappointment, feelings of failure, etc.) as an excuse to doubt
yourself and instead understand them as a series of road signs pointing you to
where you can make a meaningful contribution. Paying careful attention to these
signs, you discover your many gifts, share them more intentionally in work and
outside of it, and begin to see how valuable they really are.
One step at a time, your contributions lead you towards work
that truly nourishes you, that you feel good about, and that allows you to
change the world in meaningful ways.
There’s a joke that goes:
Question: What do all your problems have in common? Answer: You.
There’s another joke that goes:
Wherever you go, there you are.
Okay, so these aren’t so much jokes as pithy statements
about life, but the point is that there’s some truth to the fact that we cause
much of our own suffering, and finding a new job won’t change that.
So if you wonder whether the problem is you or your job because you have a sense that you might be miserable no matter where you work, you’re acknowledging a difficult but important truth. If you think that means that you’re doomed to unhappiness no matter what you do, however, then you’re paying too much heed to your Inner Critic.
For most of us, breaking out of our misery requires some
external adjustments (to our current situation) and some internal changes (to how
we’re approaching that situation). This might seem obvious, but too often our
Inner Critics convince us that there’s a magic solution to our unhappiness that
lies in drastic changes to one realm or the other, and our job is to sit around
trying to figure out which it is.
In reality, all we need is to be willing to experiment a
little to find the right combination of inner growth and outer shifts that
support our well-being. (This, by the way, is perhaps the easiest way to
explain what I do with my clients, and why coaching works).
If this is your adventure, you’re not being asked to
determine whether you or your job is the cause of your misery. Rather, you’re
being asked a much more important question:
What’s the next baby step that I’m
being called to take?
Nobody’s doomed to be unhappy. Misery is just a sign that we’ve been following our will rather than our Inner Wisdom. In my experience, once you become willing to listen to the clues your head, heart, and body are giving you, no matter how small—to work less, do yoga more, spend more time outdoors, write that story that’s been floating around in your head, or do anything else that makes you come alive—you no longer need to avoid misery because you’ve learned to let it guide you.
How Adventure #2 Turns Out:
You stop trying to find a silver bullet and start
experimenting your way towards greater happiness. You let go of the belief that
you’re doomed to misery and that you should be able to figure everything out on
your own. You seek out the support you need to make small changes both
internally and externally, the results of which add up to something greater
than the sum of their parts.
One step at a time, your experiments lead you towards work
that truly nourishes you, that you feel good about, and that allows you to change
the world in meaningful ways.
Most of the time when people come to me, they’re looking for
a new job because they think that’s what’s going to solve all their problems
and give them what they’re looking for.
I don’t want to diminish the benefits that come from finding
work that aligns with and supports our truest selves. They’re big, and real. But
the truth is, there’s no job—or any external circumstance, for that
matter—that’s going to give us what we most desire.
Challenges—namely, not getting what we want—act as natural
interrupters to this cycle. So if you’re asking whether you need to adjust
yourself or your job to find what you’re looking for, that’s cause for
celebration. You’re being given the opportunity to ask the only question that
can actually reconnect you to the state of being that you long for most:
What growth or expansion am I being
invited into right now?
If you’re not sure what that is, here are three ideas to find
Pretend you’re a scientist and observe yourself. Pay close attention to what happens when you’re upset: What do you think and feel? What do you say, do, or not do? Look for patterns and then ask yourself how these are helping you and how they might be limiting you. What might you do differently to open up new possibilities?
Get an outside perspective. Ask a trusted mentor, coach, colleague, friend, or loved one what possibilities they see for your growth.
Follow Tony Schwartz’s Golden Rule of Triggers: When upset, whatever you feel compelled to do, don’t. If you feel compelled to strike out, hold your fire. If your instinct is to pull back, stay engaged. See what happens and do more of the thing that supports your happiness and well-being. (Adapted from Be Excellent at Anything by Tony Schwarz.)
If you’re thinking that this all sounds great but won’t get
you any closer to your goals, then I have one last thing to say:
Internal changes are what make the external ones possible.
We can only exert our creative power in the world once we
have the skills, qualities, and other internal resources necessary to work
through the challenges that inevitably arise when we do.
There is one important, rather big caveat, however, which is
that in order to change internally, we need to have the necessary support and
resources. If our current environment doesn’t provide these, then it’s worth
finding one that does.
How Adventure #3 Turns Out:
You commit to your internal growth, finding the support you
need through books, classes, groups, friends, mentors, therapists, and coaches
to make it easier and more effective.
You become more content with where you are, regardless of
your circumstances. Paradoxically, as you grow more fulfilled, you begin to see
opportunities to make bigger external changes, and now you have the tools and
resources to make them more powerfully.
One step at a time, your expanding sense of self leads you
towards work that truly nourishes you, that you feel good about, and that
allows you to change the world in meaningful ways.
It walks you through
the same process I use with my individual coaching clients at a fraction of the
And because I’m taking it off the shelf for the
foreseeable future, right now Passion
Quest includes a free, 45-minute one-on-one coaching session with me that
you can use however you like: to hold yourself accountable, receive feedback on
your efforts, ask questions, or get ideas for how to work with your unique
needs and challenges.
Simply accepting this reality can open up a lot of new possibilities,
and a way forward often emerges naturally if you accept it for long enough.
But what if it doesn’t? What
if you’ve let yourself off the hook for knowing what to do and waited patiently
but your path still isn’t getting any clearer? How can you find a way to
bridge the seemingly unbridgeable chasm of the unknown?
In the case of career change, the long answer is that you can work your way through a 5-step process I developed that gives you pragmatic ways to identify your superpowers, passion, and purpose; discover diverse possibilities; and explore so you know which one to choose. It’s a powerful process, but I have to be honest: there is a shortcut.
I don’t tell many people about this shortcut because most wouldn’t want to
take it even if they could.
It requires giving up control (or the illusion of control, as
my 12-step friends would correct me, and they’d be right). It also requires a
somewhat advanced familiarity with your Inner Wisdom and a trust in the world
that I know from personal experience is hard to come by.
But you can only get familiarity and trust with practice,
and the only way to practice is to make many messy attempts, so here it is, the
only question you need to ask to find your calling:
What wants to happen?
The beauty of this question is that it addresses not only what you want, which is incredibly powerful in and of itself, but also what the world needs, and therefore what’s possible and practical. (There’s another benefit as well, which I’ll get to in a minute.)
Follow through on the ideas that bring up the most positive head,
heart, and body responses or to which your Inner Wisdom says yes. Know that
these actions are valuable experiments and will help you find your way
regardless of what results.
Observe the results of your actions and then reflect: How
did that go? Which actions created energy in you and in others? Which gave you satisfying
outcomes? Which took on a momentum or life of their own?
The answers to these questions can help you identify what
wants to happen in the world—in other words where there’s a need your gifts can
meet, a problem your creativity can solve, or a way to work with reality rather
than fight against it.
Listen In Again
Ask what wants to happen again, but this time in light of
what you found in step #3. If you’re not sure, try making a list of all
possible options, then feeling into which bring up a sense of energy, ease, or
Act on those and then repeat the process.
I first tried using this question two years ago, with surprising results.
At the time, I had lots of goals and ideas about growing my
coaching business. The problem was, no matter how hard I worked or what I
tried, my business seemed to stay about the same size. In the meantime, the
stress from striving so hard and failing to meet my objectives was weighing on
me and beginning to trigger my anxiety and depression.
At some point it occurred to me that I might enjoy my life a
lot more if I got curious about how big my business wanted to be instead of
fighting an uphill battle to try to make it the size that I wanted. So I asked
the question: what wants to happen with my business? And then I listened for the
actions that felt energizing and satisfying and didn’t force myself to do the
ones that weren’t.
It was scary, I’ll admit. I worried that my business would
want to be so small that it wouldn’t generate enough income. But I’d developed
enough trust in myself and the world by that point to know that if that were
the case, I could find other ways to make money.
As it turned out, I didn’t need to, as that ended up being
my best year to date, both in terms of how I felt and the money that I made.
But there’s one more reason this question is a useful one:
By its nature, it’s an antidote
When we’re anxious, it’s usually because there’s an outcome
we want (to run a successful project, for example, or to land a particular job).
At the same time, we sense on some level that we don’t have enough control to
guarantee that this outcome occurs.
This gap between what
we want and what we have power over is what generates anxiety.
Asking what wants to happen is a way of letting go of our
death grip on the particular outcomes we desire, or more accurately, the
specific ways we think that our happiness is going to be achieved. We get to
see that a successful project, a particular job, or even a bigger business are
not the only things that can support our well-being.
In fact, with enough practice, we come to understand that
there are many ways to take care of ourselves and find what we’re looking for
in any situation, so we don’t have to hold too tightly to any one of them.
As the list of desirable
possibilities expands, the anxiety gap shrinks.
And as I said in my previous post, we don’t even have to know what all those possibilities are, because when we ask what wants to happen, we invite the world to reveal to us the best one for our current situation, and it’s often even better than what we had in mind.
Want help finding your own answers?
Pathfinders Group Coaching, one of my most powerful and
cost-effective programs, is still open for enrollment.
Designed for people who want to identify the work they’re
meant to do in the world and start actually doing it, Pathfinders guides you
through a 5-step process for finding your calling and helps you build the
skills you need clarify what wants to happen, all alongside a group of
supportive, insightful peers who are going through the same thing you are.
If that sounds good, then click here to schedule a brief, no-obligation call to learn how the program works and find out if it’s for you.
Quick announcement: Pathfinders Group Coaching is now open for enrollment. Designed for people who want to identify the type of work they’re meant to do in the world and start actually doing it, Pathfinders of one of my most cost effective programs. Find out more and get the details here.
First of all, happy new year! I hope your transition to 2019 was a good one.
Mine, to be honest, was a little rough.
Between holiday preparations, surprises at work, the inevitable glitches of a house renovation, dentists, car maintenance, back pain, and an increasingly intense campaign I’m involved in to protect my city’s trees, I was feeling slightly overwhelmed.
Lying awake in bed one night, I was so wound up thinking about all the things I had to do that I couldn’t sleep. I know by now that such worrying isn’t helpful, so I naturally responded by obsessively creating a list of things I ought to do to calm down, forcing myself to do them, then criticizing myself when I realized that my compulsive problem-solving was making me more uptight and miserable, not less.
Only when the tension got so intense that I could barely stand to be in my own skin did I get desperate enough to admit that I had a problem and no idea how to solve it.
And then, of course, as soon as I did, my misery immediately disappeared.
There’s something magical that happens when we release ourselves from the expectation that we ought to know how to solve all our problems.
It opens us up to find freedom, acceptance, and—paradoxically—the answers to our dilemmas.
When we think that we should know something, our minds are so filled with thoughts, worries, and doubts that there’s no space to notice the solutions that are right in front of us. Only when we give up on knowing are we free to see the clues, ideas, and resources of which we previously weren’t aware.
I talk to a lot of people who are disappointed or even depressed about their work.
They can’t manage to stay satisfied with a job that may be well-paying but is ultimately unsatisfying, ill-fitting, or even agonizing. And yet because they have no idea what would be better, they give up and keep going back to a job that they know isn’t right for them day after day, month after month, and year after year.
The thing is, these folks aren’t actually stuck. They just think they are. They haven’t yet found the power of the magic words:
“I don’t know.”
We’re often told that you have to know where you’re going if you’re going to get there. While that’s true at times, it never is in the beginning. In fact, not knowing your way is a critical first step to discovering it.
In the beginning, every hero’s journey is more about asking than answering, listening than knowing, and seeking than finding. Curiosity is far more useful in the first few steps than confidence.
If you’re unsure how to let yourself not know, try repeating the following phrase to yourself and see what happens:
“I have no idea what to do right now, and I don’t need to.”
You might also sit in a quiet place and get curious as to what not knowing feels like. Admit that you’re clueless and then notice what you feel in your belly and chest. If your heart starts racing and your stomach tightens up, that’s not the feeling of not knowing; that’s the feeling of thinking you should know when you don’t. Repeat the phrase above, focusing on the second part, and try again.
You might find that not knowing isn’t as uncomfortable as we tend to think it is. Wobbly, sure, but also exhilarating; far from empty, it’s actually filled with possibility.
In my experience, the answers always come in time. But only to those humble (or desperate) enough to admit that they don’t have them.
In my next post, I’ll share some ideas for how to get answers once you’ve admitted that you don’t know or need them. (Life is full of paradoxes, no?)
Long ago, the people lived in a village by a lake not far from the mountains. The village and its lands were small at first, but eventually the leaders of the village foresaw that if they cut down more of the surrounding forest and expanded their fields, they would have more food to eat and more fibers with which to make clothes and baskets.
So they did. The expansion created much bounty for the village, and at first the villagers were happy. They enjoyed fuller bellies and warmer clothes, and all was good.
But better health for the villagers meant more children, and before long food and fiber began to be scarce once again. Enterprising and resourceful, the villagers again expanded their fields, and once again, for a time, all was good.
Until the next generation of children came and with it more hungry mouths to feed. And the children who grew up in a time of plenty now needed more and better food to be satisfied. So the villagers cut down more trees and prepared more land for sowing. This time, however, the new land under cultivation was not as rich and required more work. So the villagers had to labor from sunup until sundown and sometimes even longer in order to coax the harvest they wanted out of the land. They didn’t mind at first, but after a year or two laboring day-in and day-out in this way, they began to become dissatisfied.
Little by little, the dissatisfaction spread like a disease until before long everyone had fallen ill. Soon nobody was gratified and the Great Dissatisfaction had begun. No longer content with the food they had or the clothes they wore, the villagers worked harder and longer to expand the fields, increase production, and keep up with their desires. If they could just get a big enough harvest, they thought, the Great Dissatisfaction would end.
It was around this time that Little One was born.
They called him Little One both because he was the youngest boy in his family and because he was small. He was scarcely larger than his younger sister, who was a full two years younger than him, and his arms were no bigger round than a field snake.
His brothers delighted in reminding him of this because they knew he was terrified of snakes. He was terrified of many things, but it was his fear of snakes that his brothers enjoyed most. It was a common occurrence for them to throw a rope over the back of his shoulders, scream “SNAKE!” at the top of their lungs, and guffaw as he danced about, trying to get the rope off his back.
Little One had always been different than the others.
While his family loved working in the fields for 16 hours a day, Little One grew tired and restless. He loved to work for the morning and the early part of the afternoon. He enjoyed tending the fields, nurturing the little seeds with water and sunlight. He got excited when they first broke through the earth and proffered their delicate, hopeful leaves to the sun. He grew proud as they stretched their limbs into new territory and grew strong over time, eventually turning this strength into flowers and fruits that they generously shared with the world.
But by mid-afternoon, Little One was tired, restless, and irritated. His eyes would wander towards the mountains, and he longed to see out what lay beyond.
His family had tolerated this while he was still a child, but once he reached adulthood, they couldn’t understand his reluctance. They told him he was lazy, weak, and selfish. He did his best to stay with them morning until night, but it was torture. By mid-afternoon, his whole body would grow heavy, his eyes would start twitching, and a tightening ache would close in on his chest and threaten to strangle him.
There were other differences too.
Nobody else in the village wondered what lay beyond the mountains. Nobody had ever even ventured to their feet, let alone climbed their peaks. Nobody else was scared of insects, darkness, large animals, storms, and the possibility of drought. They didn’t spend time worrying about these things or jump back in fear every time something moved unexpectedly in the bushes.
And nobody else cried when an animal was killed, even a spider that had accidentally wandered into enemy territory.
So Little One spent lots of time alone, wondering what would fill the void he had begun to feel in his chest, beating its dark wings against the soft wall of his heart.
And then came the day when everything changed, when Little One saw the snake.
He had been weeding around a group of tomato plants and noticing how their leaves were yellowing, their limbs wilting, and their trunks listing ponderously to one side. It was as if the burden of their fruit was weighing on them more heavily than before.
“They’re tired,” came a voice from out of nowhere. “The soil is no longer giving them what they need.”
Little One looked around him to see who was speaking, but he saw no one. Then he felt something touch his ankle and looked down to see a large, brown snake with a diamond-shaped head making its way across his foot.
Little One screamed and stumbled backwards.
His eldest brother was not far away and ran over. “It’s a rattler!” he yelled, and another brother had soon run over carrying a shovel. Before Little One could say anything, the eldest grabbed the shovel from his brother’s hands and ran the pointed head deep into the earth. The snake’s head fell on one side, and its body went limp on the other.
Little One suddenly felt an ache in his chest so deep he thought his heart might be swallowed whole. His second brother picked up the shovel and turned to leave. “You’re welcome,” the eldest one said, as they both laughed walked away.
Little One sank to his knees. The snake’s lifeless eyes stared up at him, its mouth open slightly as if to ask how he could let this happen. Little One couldn’t feel the ground beneath him as he hurriedly scooped dirt over the body of the snake. He could no longer see anything except the dark, sorrowful eyes slowly disappearing beneath clumps of reddish soil. It wasn’t until he saw a drop of water land on the newly turned earth above the body of the snake that he realized he was crying. He wiped the tears away and silently hoped that nobody had seen.
That night the snake visited him in his dreams. He dreamt he was wandering through the woods for hours, not sure what he was looking for, when he finally heard a soft hissing to his left. He turned, and there it was—the same snake his brother had killed that day.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” the snake said. “You took a long time to get here.”
“Why?” Little One asked nervously. “What do you want?”
“You’re not meant for thissss,” the snake continued. Its eyes were dark but didn’t seem angry. “You’ll never be happy this way.”
“What do you mean? Of course I will, as soon as the harvest comes in. I planted an extra big crop this year.” But the last words died on Little One’s lips and he immediately knew that they weren’t true.
“Yesssss, that’s better,” hissed the snake. “You can sense there’s something more.”
“Something is calling you.”
Little One considered this. He could feel a slight tug on his heart, as if it were being drawn towards something just beyond the horizon. “What is it?” he asked.
“That you’ll have to discover for yourself. You find it in the searching.”
“And where do I search for it?”
“Lisssssten,” the snake hissed.
“What does that mean?” asked Little One.
“Jussssst lissssten,” said the snake.
And then Little One woke up.
It was just a dream, he told himself, and prepared to go to the fields.
But when Little One reached the fields that day, the ache in his chest grew so intense that he could barely breathe. It felt like his heart was being crushed by a vice. He tried to work but could barely stand up. When he left early for a lunch break, he found something curious. Each step he took towards his house lessened the pain in his chest and allowed him to breathe a little bit more.
Back at his home, Little One went to get food. When he reached down to pick up an apple, a snake’s head suddenly appeared next to his hand.
Little One stumbled backward. He went to the bedroom and saw a snake on his bed. His heart in his throat, he looked at the ceiling. There were snakes hanging from all the rafters in the roof.
Little One had never been more frightened in all his life. But beneath the fear, he could also feel a slight movement in his chest, like something within him was made of steel and was moving towards the magnetic pull of the mountains beyond. He was suddenly aware of a strong desire to see what lay beyond the peaks.
He could hear the snake’s words in his ear: “Something is calling you.”
Something was calling him, something big. He could almost hear it, like a drumbeat in the distance, coming from below the mountains, from the earth itself, echoing the pulsing of his heart and the beating of the dark wings of emptiness in his chest. It had to do with him. It had to do with the snake. It had to do with the Great Dissatisfaction, but he didn’t know how.
He also didn’t know what he was looking for. Who or what was calling him? What did they want from him? He had no idea.
What he did know was that he had to find out. If the snake was right about listening, then he was pretty sure whatever it was lay in the mountains beyond.
He packed his things while he waited for his family to return from the fields. The snakes were gone, with only a rag on his bed to remind him of their presence. When his family returned and he told them his plans, they were shocked and didn’t understand why he would abandon his fields so near harvest time. They were angry that he wouldn’t be there to help them.
Little One felt a twinge of sadness about this. He was also terrified of the road ahead, as he had no idea how long it would be or where it would pass. He was thinking maybe he had made it all up, he was being irresponsible and impulsive, and it would be best to stay. That’s when his sister pulled him aside.
“Go,” she said. “They’re just sad. They don’t know it, but we need help. We’re sick, and we don’t yet realize it. Go. Find what is calling you. Perhaps it can help us as well.”
That was all Little One needed. He smiled, kissed her forehead, and said goodbye. He picked up his bag and walked out of his home, starting down a path he had never been down before. He walked away from his fields, away from his village, away from everything he had ever known.
So began the journey of the first one of us to answer the call.
David is a friend who’s done a lot of work helping people bring more heart into their work. His superpower is helping others connect with the joy, wisdom, and genius that exists within all of us (yes, even you). He’s profound, hilarious, and great at helping people stop trying to be something else and start enjoying the amazing gifts of who they already are.
Change is hard. For most of us, no matter how much part of us wants to make a change, there’s another part that for whatever reason seems bent on staying stuck in the status quo. As a result, we procrastinate, convince ourselves it’s not even worth trying, or find other ways to stay with the devil that we know.
How can we overcome this tendency in order to move towards what we want more powerfully?
To answer that question, I’m excited to share with you the story of Jeff Siewert, a former client of mine who managed to move past his resistance to change and go from listless executive to impassioned entrepreneur in a relatively short period of time.
Jeff participated in my Pathfinders Group Coaching Program, which is currently enrolling, but he does a great job of identifying what exactly was key to his transformation so that even if you’re not interested in coaching right now, you can get an idea of what to look for from other sources to help you make a similar move.
Here’s Jeff’s story, in his own words:
How Things Were
“Two years ago I was at a crossroads and needed a career change—a life change—but I wasn’t sure how to go about it.
“I was coming off two years at my latest job. I had an executive title and my compensation was as good as it had been in years. I traveled often to New York City and had made two long international business trips. On paper things were good, but I couldn’t help thinking I was in a dissatisfying spot that I’d found myself in before.
“I knew I had the talent and skills to do my job and was performing successfully, but after some of the excitement of rebuilding and creating new improvements passed, I found myself listless and less than fully interested in what I was doing. When I was honest with myself, I realized that I’d come to that same moment of truth before.”
“In some ways I was lucky to have a catalyst for change. There was an upcoming company re-org that would have meant a retrenching and starting over of sorts. This would be a good time to transition to something new, something better. However, I didn’t know what that could be.
“Was I ready to forego the regular income I had now? What did I think I could do that was better? To quote the phrase, wasn’t it easier to stick with the devil I knew? Was I ready to deal with family and friends who questioned my sanity in making a late career change? Was it too late for me to make a change? How was I going to figure this out any better than I had previously?
“I joined Pathfinders Group Coaching after researching several career counseling services. The kicker for me is that I didn’t want job placement advice or simply a list of potential corporate roles I should consider. I wanted answers regarding what types of paths I should be considering based on what my skills and talents are and for what activities I have real passion. Getting to those skills and passions first was more important than jumping to corporate business titles. I knew many of those types of corporate roles already, and the ambivalence I felt about them told me I needed to do some soul-searching work and be honest with myself about who I am and what’s important to me before jumping to solutions.
“I had inklings of some pursuits I might want to try. I decided I needed to be in a group setting, that saying things out loud to others would make my ideas more ‘real’; my group members could hold me accountable. As important, they might make the connections and suggest the actions that I was too afraid to admit to myself.”
How He Did It
“Our group started off with some baseline inventories of our skills and interests. I’d taken some similar exercises in the past, but these were at work and were never going to drive a change from that work! I enjoyed getting into the Enneagram results and those of other tests. It was great to take these at face value and not try to fit them into preconceived slots.
“As we all talked through our stories and baseline assessments, I was comforted to realize that I wasn’t the only one feeling blasé, unsatisfied, or disconnected about where I was going. We were all in that same boat. It was great that we had this safe environment in which to open up.
“However, even with our own homework pointing out new options to consider, we can be our own worst enemies, and we spent some time addressing our ‘Inner Critics,’ those voices that tell us why we cannot do the possible steps we outlined.
“A really valuable Pathfinders exercise is that each of us got to have a ‘Mastermind Session’ in which a person could self-direct a meeting to solicit help and input from others on our progress in turning our ideas into action and results. I had a list of passions and strengths and a tentative idea of groups I might serve. Still, I had trouble taking my ideas and giving form to real options.
“My teammates very quickly told me, ‘You’ve been telling us of your passion for music. You have these strengths and interests in communicating and creating. Why aren’t you writing some kind of music blog?’ They helped turn on the lightbulb I’d been shuffling to the back of my mind. Before my session was even up, my mind was flooded with ideas.”
From Idea Into Action
“I immediately started brainstorming ideas – strategic ones like what would be my vision and mission, and tactical ones like what distinguishing content and web presence should I consider. A name and a logo came to me and I began trademarking and incorporation steps as Atlanta Music Grapevine [AMGV]. Grapevine was to be a news, information, and social site, and eventually a larger Grapevine Enterprises LLC would offer additional services to artists, venues, and music businesses.
“I was well on my way when I started to uncover similar competitors I had previously missed. I wanted to launch with a big bang. I was interviewing web developers to design a super-charged site. Admittedly, seeing others doing some of what I wanted to and being far ahead of me left me feeling discouraged. I had shopped around the idea with people I knew in music and they had been supportive, but my Inner Critic was getting to me again.
“I then heard of other people about to start a similar music magazine. I got fired up and decided that I needed to start. I couldn’t let ‘best get in the way of better.‘ I needed to head off any further competition. Bigger sites were heavily outsourcing to freelancers, but I still wanted some control and consistency over the ‘voice’ and style of the magazine. I decided to customize my own website theme, and read all I could on web formatting. I would launch now and add all the features on my wish list later as I could. We put out our first story the first week of June.
“As Atlanta has nearly doubled in size in twenty years, it’s become home to many talented musicians of all genres, venues that offer music entertainment, and music businesses that make music happen. Atlanta Music Grapevine focuses on Atlanta, not on national acts that play Atlanta. We cover a broad geography, as there is great music happening in the suburbs across the metro area, just as there is inside city entertainment districts. We’ve featured folk singers, jam-band style rock bands, hard rock music promoters, jazz vocalists, and more. We want Atlantans to know the talent we have in our backyards. We’re telling the stories of venue owners who create spaces where people can go see live music. We tell the stories of luthiers, guitar pedal builders, producers, and others with music businesses.”
How Things Are Now
“Reaction from the Atlanta music community and fans of music has been very positive and supportive. I think one reason for this is that AMGV aims to tell the stories of the people behind the music. Everyone has an interesting story to share. I think the stories help make real the people in bands, those at music venues, or those managing behind the scenes. Knowing about the people makes connecting to the music a greater interest. In our short-attention span world, AMGV tends to write longer stories that emerge from interviews that are often two hours long.
“I have not yet begun to monetize the site, as the focus has been on establishing credibility. Yes, I know that it is important. Money, in fact, is a needed part of the change I wanted to make. However, people who like what I’m trying to do are sending me business ideas and offering to make introductions for me.
“Two lessons from Pathfinders come to me as I worry about finances. One I heard during Pathfinders is that if do what you’re passionate about, the money would follow. I can’t tell you how many other people tell me that same thing as I share what I’m doing with Atlanta Music Grapevine. Another lesson is that when you do something you enjoy, you have more energy, time doesn’t creep along sluggishly, and you find yourself absorbed in what you’re doing.
“While these ideas and benefits sound obvious enough, getting from where you are to where you want to be, doing the work to honestly write about your likes and strengths, and admitting to and working with your Inner Critic fears, are not as obvious when trying to do it on your own. Pathfinders gave me a needed structured approach, meaningful exercises, a sounding board, a safe environment, Meredith’s non-judgmental, encouraging coaching, and the support of team members whom I could trust.
“I revisit my Pathfinders homework from time to time and am reminded that while my current endeavors are so far distant from the type of work I did for many years, what I’m doing now is a better, truer version of what I can do. I’m thankful I learned through my Pathfinders experience that it’s never too late to make a positive change.”