This is my first book.  It’s called “Begin Again.”

While this single story may not seem like a big deal, when I see it in a physical form, I feel very accomplished.

Because this book represents a baby step in my journey toward becoming a writer, something that has niggled at me for a long time, but which I have mostly ignored.

So when I touch, hold, flip through, and read this book, I swim in the space of accomplishment, which tells me I’m walking on the right path for me, stepping onto an exciting path of discovery.

Even better? I stood in front of a group of friends and strangers and read this story out loud.  Not perfectly:  I awkwardly jumped into the reading, forgetting to introduce myself.  I got a little choked up at the end. I got unsolicited advice on how to improve my performance skills.

Oh well.

I’m okay with all that.  All those mistakes and mis-steps provide rich soil for further growth. What’s important in this experience is that I ignored my inner critic.  I slammed my door on her and wouldn’t listen to her yelling and kicking and screaming on the other side, trying to convince me that I (and my story) was worthless.

Don’t let your inner critic hold you back.  Be stronger than she is.  Prove him wrong.  Tell her to eff off.  Show him up.  Because when you do, you will feel proud, victorious, and even just a little big smug.  You too will swim in the space of accomplishment, and you will trust that your path is more important than that critical inner voice.

So what’s my story about?  It’s about a woman who silently feels the inner pain of everyone she meets; the pain that they keep locked up and never discuss.  She feels it and does what she can to help them ease their pain just a little bit.

If you’d like to read the story, email me, and I’ll send you a copy.  (Hit the QR code too…it will take you to a couple more pieces of my writing that you can’t get any other way.)

Thanks for stopping by.  I’m humbled.  And grateful.

Jennifer

I can’t remember the last time I felt so—well—chill.

I am at the tail-end of a vacation during which I have joyfully recharged my batteries by enjoying the Christmas holidays, catching up with dear friends, sleeping late, working out, reading, shopping at the health food store, cooking, and watching several movies on the couch with a glass of wine.  I have relaxed and giggled more than I can remember in a long time.

I feel patient, enthusiastic, energized, and joyful.  Strangers smile at me at the grocery store.  Friends remark on how happy I look (some with a look of envy in their eyes).  New ideas are simmering; sparks of new creation are flying.

This experience reminds me of what I already know: that when I feel good, my life experiences evolve and unfold in remarkable ways.

As I look at the year ahead, I am reminded to only pursue those endeavors that feel good, whether it’s due to excitement, contentment, or interest.  This vacation serves as a roadmap for the year ahead, in which I make room for rest, laughter, and curiosity even as I work, study, and parent.

The year 2011 was a huge year of transition for me.  With those transitions now behind me, I look forward to 2012 with much eagerness and expectation of growth with abundant doses of play, laughter, and fun.

Happy New Year!

The question that most people inevitably ask when I say I’m getting an MFA in intermedia is: what is intermedia?  The problem is, even after I explain it, their faces are still puzzled.  It’s so unlike anything they’ve ever heard before.  Quite frankly, my face wore the same expression when I first heard the word less than a year ago.

Intermedia means, “using or involving several media, as dance, slides, music, film, and painting simultaneously.”  This is a tidy definition for those of us who already understand it, yet still ambiguous for those who have no context or background.

I turned to my advisor for help.  I asked, “How do you explain intermedia?”

He said, “The world is changing.  It is no longer sufficient to study just one thing.  It is now necessary to bring diverse ideas together to create something new.  That’s what our program is about.”

You might still wonder, so what does that mean? And how do you earn a degree in it?

The intermedia degree is a master’s degree in art.  You may think of “art” in traditional forms, such as painting or sculpture, but the intermedia program sees art everywhere it looks.  There’s art in movement, business, digital media, sound, woodworking, music composition, perma-culture, public relations, education, philosophy, creative writing, and abstract painting, for example.

As first semester, first year grad students, my cohorts and I encouraged to explore: everything and anything. It feels like being a kid again, picking and choosing what we want to play with.  Don’t misunderstand…it is serious play, just like creating a big city infrastructure in a sandbox is serious business for kids.  We are each immersed in our different areas of interest and research.  This semester I’m immersed in creative writing, web development (prototyping a mobile phone app), and the study of creativity itself.

In the big picture, how am I going to put this together?  Maybe I’ll apply storytelling and graphic design to business client’s websites.  Maybe I’ll draw pictures and weave them into the text of a novel.  Maybe I’ll become a spoken-word poet who takes photos everywhere I go, travelling around the world, speaking in front of audiences and blogging my experience.  Maybe I’ll do all (or none) of the above.

My second and third years will become more focused and less open-ended, which I acknowledge will be a good thing too.  I anticipate my personal objectives will become more clear over time (in fact, they already are).  What I love best about this program is that it does not offer a “one-size-fits-all” model (in direct contrast to my undergraduate business degree).  Instead, it offers an “anything is possible” model, while providing the skills and encouragement (within the context of both required classes and electives) to turn almost any idea into reality.  That is how you earn a degree in intermedia.

How cool is that?

I want to write stories.

Which both electrifies and petrifies me.

I have wanted to write stories for years.  And years. I have put it off for years.  And years.

And now I have created a dynamic where I can’t put it off any more.  I made it “public” by sharing this goal, out loud, in front of classmates.  I am turning it into a semester-long class assignment.  With peer critiques.  And commitments.  Which means, <gulp>, accountability.

But that is the only way that this particular work will get done.

Otherwise, I will continue to procrastinate, defer, avoid, and never make time.  I know, because that’s what I’ve been doing.

Yet an internal whispering is telling me that this work is important in some way.  But ohhhh, oh-so-uncomfortable!  Which, I believe is actually a huge sign as to its importance.  As my instructor so aptly said, “the work that we fear the most is the work that needs to be done” (or something like that).

So here I go.  <Gulp.>

Electrified and petrified….

Nike has “Just Do It.”  The U.S. War on Drugs uses, “Just Say No.”  I’ve been thinking about adopting a personal slogan of “Just Say Yes.”

There were two paths that led me to this idea.  First, I realized that when my kids ask me if we can do something, I almost always default to “No, we can’t do that right now.”  Which is exactly the opposite of how I want to be.  I want to be flexible and open to possibility.  But instead, when I get a plan organized in my head, any deviation of that plan feels like a derailment.  Unfortunately, I’m a slow processor.  Eventually, I come around and say, “Yeah, actually, we could do that.”  But then it’s often too late.  By the time I reach that point, their moment of enthusiasm has passed and they don’t want to do it anymore.

I hate that.

Second, was preparing for, and sitting through, the first day of my first class of graduate school.  The class itself and reading material leading up to it were were focused on “play” and “possibility” and eschewing boundaries (those imposed by self or others).  By the time the class was finished, I felt like I had been given a permission slip to explore everything I’ve ever wanted to explore.  Not only that but permission to do it NOW, not when all the “real work” is done.  The exploration IS the real work.

I love that.

So I’m going to try to “Just Say Yes” and see what happens.  The worst thing is that I’ll fail, right?

That’s okay too – it was on the permission slip.

Two weeks from today, I start graduate school at the University of Maine.

Even I am surprised.

Many years ago, I started an MBA and got 5 classes into it.  Quite frankly, I lost interest.  Already armed with an undergraduate degree from a business school, more business classes just didn’t call to me, nor did an advanced degree in any other field.

Until I learned about UMaine’s Intermedia MFA program.  I heard about it through happenstance;  I did not deliberately seek it out.

You know how you know that something is right, even if you have no earthly idea why?  For me, I get goosebumps and a prickly feeling on the back of my neck.  That’s exactly what happened to me as I listened to my friend explain the program, and again later, when I read more about it online.

So without a solid end game, I applied.  I even went a step further and interviewed for a Graduate Assistant position when I hadn’t even been accepted into the grad school.  I got the job, contingent upon acceptance to school.  I was floored, and I took it as another sign from the universe that I was on the right path.  My appreciation and gratitude were, and still are, abundant for the opportunity.

Once I knew I had been accepted as a student, I let down my guard and breathed a sigh of relief.  And that’s when Fear saw its opportunity and grabbed hold of it.  Fear has been toying with me all summer.

It’s a game, of sorts.  I’ve noticed that Fear walks away when I remember to pay attention to signals like the goosebumps and raised hairs.  It comes running back when I think about my insecurities or worry about my  ”lack” of <fill in the blank with: education, artistic experience, or a solid plan>,    So all summer long I have had to remind myself which end of the spectrum to focus on.  I refuse to lose this game.

My path is unfolding as I go.  I may not see the final destination, but at least I can see a few steps ahead of me.  Eventually, I’ll get to exactly where I need to be.  In the meantime, I am willing to open up, explore, question, contemplate, test, wonder, and be curious.

Last night I watched people stand in front of strangers and reveal dark secrets, personal demons, and joyful sentiments.

Addiction. Love. Death. The season of Spring. No topic was off limit.

It was open mic poetry night at my local bookstore.

It was my first visit, but not my last. I was touched by the courage of this loosely structured, eclectic collection of souls assembled for the sole purpose of revealing themselves.

From the young child who read her poem about a scribble to the elderly gentleman who reflected upon death, each person stood at the podium and exposed something about him or herself. Each person was beautiful. And deeply, profoundly brave.

Some voices shook, unaccustomed to speaking in front of a crowd, the voices’ owners facing their fears simply for the purpose of sharing a small piece of themselves.

But then there was the woman was simply exuded effervescence as she read her poetry. Expressive, confident, and articulate, she spoke about the joy she reaps through her personal expression of words and art.

The hour passed by quickly, and I sat entranced the entire time. I was captivated by the courage and bravery of this group.

It reminded me, again, that we humans crave to be creative, and every single person is creative.

So be creative, brave, and courageous. Share. Go on, share your creativity with the rest of us. We need you.

I’m curious what would it take for you to read a poem out loud to a group of strangers? Daunting or easy? Huge or small? I’m pretty sure I can do it. I just need to sit down and write a poem first.

I normally choose to be an optimistic, positive person.

But last week was an exception. I experienced three consecutive days of vexation, and by the end of Day 3, I felt as if I’d been knocked out and outwitted by the highly skilled opponent of life.

Relationship issues. Work losses. Tax prep obstacles. Doors from my past that I thought were shut and locked tight suddenly burst open, revealing ghosts I never thought I’d see again.

No matter how hard I tried to keep my “chin-up, tomorrow’s-a-new-day, this-too-shall-pass, no-big-deal-things-will-turn-around” attitude, I just couldn’t maintain my emotional stance.

By Thursday afternoon, the floodgates opened and I turned into a blubbering idiot.

I felt lost. Blamed. Directionless. Broke. Rejected. Adrift. Responsible. Not responsible. Irresponsible.

And worst of all, alone.

This was not how my life was supposed to turn out.

Personal Energy Conservation

I acknowledge that when we’re feeling a lack of happy-skippy-joy, it sometimes feels best just to wallow exactly where we are. We feel relief simply by sitting on our stump. The wallowing and sitting takes so much less energy than simply standing up.

So I wallowed. For a long while.

At some point, the phone rang.

It was an angel. I had not heard from this father figure in almost a year. His only reason for calling was to ask if I needed help. I was so touched, I could barely speak. The best I could do was express my gratitude in choked, halted, barely comprehensible, speech. That phone call became just the catalyst I needed to take action.

I hung up the phone and dried my tears. I ordered pizza. At 6:00 pm, on went the jammies, up went the ponytail, out came the contacts, and down I sat with journal and pen.

And I wrote.

I wrote about all the things I wanted in my life: all the dreams, material objects, and experiences that I want to live, buy, and encounter.

Because where I am, sure as hell is not where I’m going to stay.

Goodbye Point A. I’m Headed to Point B.

I wrote 3 full pages of “I wants,” ranging from little things (like switching the ink in my very special pen from black to blue), to big things (like a second home in a warm climate and lots of international travel).

There is no reason we should ever tread water indefinitely in the what-is-ness. We can submerge ourselves in the what-will-be-ness. In fact, to do anything else is to risk staying exactly where we already are.

When I was done, I felt a whole lot better. My head space had shifted, without conscious attention given to shifting it. I had some clarity: I know where I am, and now I know where I’m going. All I need is a roadmap, which is exactly what I’m working on now.

Coming Up

Next week’s blog post will be a departure away from myself (“whew!” you’re thinking) to different luminous awesomeness. Stay tuned!

More Goodies

I have a favorite pair of jeans.

They have just one flaw: they aren’t comfy right out of the dryer. They make me feel less than (er, more than). I wonder: I feel uncomfortable. Why wear them?

But before too long….ooooo…. they relax and feel just right. With that brief period of discomfort behind me, I’m ready to do my happy dance around the living room again.

Feeling Better Over Time

New ideas are like my jeans.

Just as I love my jeans, I also love my creativity, but I inevitably experience brief periods of discomfort until I “try on” my latest idea for a while. But the longer I sit with it, the more relaxed I get.

This website offers a perfect example. The initial idea elicited discomfort (mostly, fear of putting myself out there). But as I designed, wrote, and pulled the pieces together, I got more “chill” with it. Not just chill, but effin’ excited…shakin’ my booty was inevitable on launch day!

Pushing Past the Discomfort

Without pushing past discomfort, we can never get to the moments of happy dance! And that’s where joy abounds! It’s also where discoveries are found, inventions are created, and art is made.

Think of it this way: what if nobody EVER pushed past their discomfort? What if nobody ever put their stuff out there? The world would be static and unchanging. There would be no music, no art, no books. There would be no air travel, internet, or vaccines.

Besides claiming the happy dance moments, maybe we even have a responsibility, an obligation to the world to push past our discomfort and share our creativity. Our next new idea might inspire, spark, or create something new for someone else. And if we don’t? Think of all the people we’re cheating.

Getting Your Shine On

In this beautiful passage by Marianne Williamson, we can begin to understand the true nature of the relationship between our creativity and our discomfort:

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”

From A Return To Love: Reflections on the Principles of A Course in Miracles

Refresh Your Spirit with Creativity

Creativity is endless. Art, science, music, medicine, writing, movies, transportation, entrepreneurship, technology….they all offer creative opportunities. I believe that every single person on the planet is creative.

I believe that creativity is as important to our souls as air is to our bodies.

What do you think? Do you believe everyone is creative in some way or that only certain individuals are blessed with creativity? How do you feel about pushing past discomfort? Do you have a favorite pair of jeans?

At one moment I can feel on top of the world, proud and accomplished, acknowledging and celebrating the abundance in my life, and yet a mere hour or day later, I can feel filled with so much anxiety that I think the pressure in my chest will force my head to hinge open like a PEZ dispenser.

What has changed?  Nothing.

I repeat: Nothing has changed.

I have the same amount of money in my account, gas in my car, and food on my table.  My home is stable, and so are my kids.  The amount of work in my pipeline is no different than it was an hour or day ago.

Nothing has changed.  That is, except for the thoughts in my head.

Yup, just those thoughts swirling around up there in my brain.  Those simple thoughts make all the difference between feeling kick-ass and ass-kicked.

Protect Your Head Space

I am learning that there is nothing more important than protecting my head space. It’s as important as stocking toilet paper, toothpaste, and coffee.

What do I mean by protecting your headspace?

I mean preserving and celebrating every magical, beautiful, creative thought that you have and stomping up and down on those thoughts of self-doubt, fear, and lack.  I mean purposefully and deliberately choosing thoughts that feel good.  I mean approaching your day by looking at all the things that are right, and not at all the things that are wrong.

It sounds easy, right?  Well, it is simple.  But it does take practice.

Pivot Your Thoughts

Last week I got an email from a client that said “I’ve been meaning to touch base with you about the website” (the one I had almost finished for her).  I read that, and immediately went into panic mode.  I worried.  I fretted.  I self-medicated with Cadbury Mini Eggs.  Something is wrong.  She’s not happy. I’m going to get fired.

I became my own worst enemy.  Panic infiltrated.  Fear snuck in. Worthlessness tiptoed through.  My head space filled with thoughts that made me feel icky and powerless, which made my productivity come to a screeching halt.

Then I caught myself.  I remembered to deliberately choose different thoughts:  Oooo…maybe she has some new ideas!  Maybe she wants to know more about the photographer.  Maybe she wants to add features.  Maybe my work has exceeded her expectationsI

Ahhhh…..I felt better immediately.  I relaxed and refocused.  I carried on with my day.  I climbed back on board my productivity train.  I set up a meeting with the client.  Life was good once again.

Remember Your Power

Isn’t it CRAZY what we do to ourselves?

I offer up a new strategy: instead of defaulting to our deficiencies, let’s flip the switch and default to our competencies and creativity.  Let’s honor our ideas, our work, and our shine.

You know why?  Because a celebration of self unleashes phenomenal personal power and great promise.  Each of us is a delicious, powerful creator and when we focus on THAT, more will come.  It’s simply a self-fulfilling prophecy.

So remember, protect your head space.  Now, go forth, shine, and kick some ass!