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The Expression of Love

Here’s what I know about love.

Unex­pressed, love is:

a paint­ing unrealized,

a gift not given,

a tal­ent not shared,

a song unsung,

a good idea, that no one will ever know.

Yes. It may exist, but until it’s been shared, it’s merely the lonely tree falling in the for­est. Irrel­e­vant whether it makes a sound or not.

Express­ing love is risky. There can be no doubt.

The paint­ing may not be admired. The gift may not quite fit. The tal­ent may not be appre­ci­ated. The song may not res­onate. The good idea may “good” but “not for right now”.

Painful, to be sure.

But once you BELIEVE in the value of the whis­per­ings of you heart?

Magic ignited.

Once you believe your paint­ing is the answer; the gift is trans­for­ma­tive; the tal­ent will heal souls; the song will endure in hearts for­ever; the idea IS the change, then you’ll shout it from the high­est moun­tains, right? Loud and right­eously proud.

What will it take for you to believe your love into expres­sion with wild abandon?


by Tanya Geisler

The Paradox of Focus

I’m going to be hon­est. Decem­ber is his­tor­i­cally my slow­est month in terms of client ses­sions. (That’s hon­est, yes, but that’s not my con­fes­sion). So, to make good use of the space cre­ated in that time, I had fab­u­lous inten­tions to map out 2012 in a truly pow­er­ful way dur­ing the month. Well, I did set some excel­lent goals, shared them with the world (or at least, my cor­ner of the world), then…oof. (Annnnnnd, here’s the con­fes­sion). Instead of strate­giz­ing and schem­ing, I baked and dec­o­rated. I shopped and sang. I cooked and vis­ited. I hosted and wrapped. And it was bliss.

Regrets = 0. Mem­o­ries = ~ 1,000.

I’m rested, recharged, and rar­ing to go in my busi­ness. It’s already been a wildly fruit­ful cou­ple of weeks.

So as I have been refo­cus­ing, it’s not sur­pris­ing that my entre­pre­neur clients are want­ing the same. Over the past cou­ple of weeks, they’ve been com­ing to ses­sion say­ing: I want to focus on focus.

YA BABY! Let’s get started! Let’s get spe­cific! Let’s clamp down!

Ah…but wait.

The para­dox of focus, is that to be focused, we need step way, WAYYYYY back and take a meta-view of who we are and where we are going.

Who are you?

Who are you in this world? Your val­ues will tell you. They are the bricks in the glo­ri­ous and utterly unique house of you.

Know­ing what your val­ues are will help you to make soul­ful deci­sions for your busi­ness. {And soul­ful deci­sions gen­er­ally trans­late to cash.}

I’ve writ­ten before about some val­ues clar­i­fi­ca­tion tools that will help. Also notice who you admire and why. What do they stand for? Likely rooted in there are some of your values.

Once you’ve gained on your val­ues, start to notice what might be miss­ing for you right now.

Lean into the val­ues that aren’t being hon­oured in your busi­ness. Notice how excit­ing that feels. Pretty hard to not focus on some­thing that feels excit­ing, non?

Where are you going?

If you don’t know where you are head­ing, then you don’t know which way to go.

This ain’t rocket sci­ence (and yet…)

Get clear on your vision . What do you want for your busi­ness? What feel­ings do you want to expe­ri­ence? What is your dream for your busi­ness? Get as gran­u­lar as you like (say, a vision for your prod­ucts or ser­vices, your employee rela­tions, your com­mu­nity con­tri­bu­tion, etc). What­ever works for you.

Cre­ate a vision state­ment, a vision board, a manifesto…SOMETHING to keep your vision top of mind.

Now your action is inten­tional and keeps you pointed in the right direction.

So we’re fired up, we have our vision. It’s com­pletely aligned with our val­ues and we know where we’re going. We are stoked and ready to try it all! So many shiny things…where to start?!!

VROOM VROOM

Action and moti­va­tion are like two bud­dies egging each other on at a frat house keg­ger. Being in action is moti­vat­ing and this moti­va­tion stim­u­lates the urge for action. We surf this pow­er­ful momen­tum and pile on the action because it’s all so tasty: new oppor­tu­ni­ties, new part­ners, new projects, oh my!

And THEN?????

OOPS hap­pens

Like another 4-letter word, it is messy stuff. OOPS = over-operational plan­ning syndrome.

Our momen­tum takes a nose­dive. Action and moti­va­tion part ways to down some aspirin and snore off the effects of the kegger.

Call it the Das­tardly Dip, call it what you will.

As a coach, my role is to be aware of that effect and help my clients to trim the wings before the nosedive.

Here’s how.

Yes’s and No’s

Mak­ing room for your vision to flour­ish, you prob­a­bly need to start say­ing “no”. Most of us do. So you can say “yes” to the bright­est pos­si­ble ver­sion of your life and business.

Ele­gant in its sim­plic­ity. (And yet…)

You may choose to get rid of the ugly chair, to make space for the stun­ning one you’ve always wanted. Is that a part­ner? A prod­uct? A supplier?

You may need to say “no” to some cus­tomers. If you find that you are not giv­ing the best of your­self, get curi­ous about why. And know that your indus­try is too small for you to not be giv­ing the best of your­self. It may well be them, or it may be you, but if there’s not a fit, the out­comes will be dire. That = bad business.

Lov­ingly and sup­por­t­ively release them into the arms of a col­league who may be bet­ter suited to them. And spend that found energy on find­ing your RIGHT peo­ple, and hav­ing them find you. Moti­va­tion restored. Back to action. But what actions?

Decision-making Matrix

A while back, I was in a pro­gram with Pam Slim and Chris Guille­beau. I was intro­duced to another ele­gantly sim­ple exer­cise. I’ve adapted it to suit my busi­ness and share (with per­mis­sion) with my clients. Feel free to email me for a copy.

Draw a table. 6 columns by 6 rows. In the left hand col­umn, list the projects that are sit­ting on your chest that may or may not want to get started. (Only con­sider projects that are in align­ment with your values…but you knew that already, didn’t you?)

Fill the next 5 columns with fil­ters that work for you. I use Vision (how aligned with my vision is this project…see why vision is crit­i­cal?) + Inter­est (how excited am I to tackle this project?) + Prof­itabil­ity (how much cash will it bring in?) — Effort (how much time and energy will it take?) = Grand Total. Swap/add fil­ters as you like (Reach may be more impor­tant to you than Profitability).

Sub­jec­tively rate each project on a scale of 1–5 (5 being high­est). This sim­ple exer­cise is intended to get you clearer on what wants to hap­pen in your busi­ness soon­est. If you need to cut a project or two, pick the low­est. If you can only take on one right now, pick the high­est. The rest can be put on a shelf with no remorse…you get to revisit them when the time’s right. So that “no” can become a “not right now”.

Buddy up

Hold­ing a vision as big of yours is pretty weighty stuff. Who else can help you to hold it? A coach? Mas­ter­mind group? Account­abil­ity part­ner? Advi­sory Board? Assess your sup­port net­work and con­sider how hav­ing some­one else help you hold your vision will keep you on track.

You are one lean, mean, focused machine.

Vroom vroom, indeed.


 

by Tanya Geisler

Giving + Receiving

I adore giv­ing. The idea of giv­ing some­thing, ANYTHING, that will make some­one else happy makes my heart soar. That may be an acknowl­edg­ment, a ges­ture, my time, but for the sake of this piece, let’s say I adore giv­ing presents.

Con­fes­sion: I also adore receiv­ing presents.

As démodé as that may sound in this time of xmasresistance.org, the antic­i­pa­tion of an unopened present fills me with excitement.

Not because I need any­thing. (Oh, trust me…I do NOT need any­thing). And not because I’m envi­sion­ing some­thing spe­cific. But rather because I will glean some insight into how the giver sees me.

In his 1967 essay The Soci­ol­ogy of Gift Giv­ing, Barry Schwartz writes: “Gifts are one of the ways in which the pic­tures that oth­ers have of us in their minds are transmitted”.

Yes, yes, YES.

It’s the rea­son we retweet a piece of writ­ing that res­onates. In that moment, we feel like we are being seen. Like the writer stepped into our heart and shared what was there. In their words. And to be seen is a mighty pow­er­ful thing.

It’s part of what makes GIVING gifts so chal­leng­ing. We want to make sure we GET. IT. RIGHT. It’s a guilt-laden emo­tional land­mine of “good enough”? “Spent enough”?

ENOUGH!!!!

What if it wasn’t about get­ting it right (or wrong?) What if we really just sunk into the gift of giv­ing? The oppor­tu­nity to tell some­one: “I may be off on this, but I heard this CD and I loved how it made me feel. It’s how you make me feel. I hope you love it too”.

Dare to see some­one and show them what you see.

Like the engage­ment ring my hus­band picked out for me 14 years ago. It is not the one I would have cho­sen for myself back then. It was 1997 and I sus­pect I was an emerald-cut soli­taire kinda gal. (That’s what Martha Stew­art was show­ing in her wed­ding mags, after all.)

What he chose was very dif­fer­ent. It rep­re­sents how he sees me. In his words: funky + ele­gant. It’s what I think every time I look at it and it makes me beam.

I’d say that trumps all, wouldn’t you?

So when you open your presents this hol­i­day sea­son, believe that they were selected with the essence of YOU in mind.

That fruit­cake with brandy crème fraiche may mean the giver sees you as a clas­sic traditionalist.

Or those socks may speak to how they envi­sion you to value lux­ury (they ARE cash­mere, after all).

Or they may hope that the framed pic­ture cap­tures your love of adventure.

Even the gift card for the movie the­atre may mean that they believe you desire more time away from the computer.

Whether you are or aren’t a clas­sic tra­di­tion­al­ist, a luxury-lover, adven­turer, or a movie-goer, know that this is the story the giver has of you. Get curi­ous about know­ing more of that story. Hear what they see in you. Find the grat­i­tude there and share the impact of that. It may be an amaz­ing oppor­tu­nity to share more of YOURSELF with the giver. And isn’t that what this is all about?

Being a gra­cious receiver is the gift that keeps on giving.


by Tanya Geisler

What’s On Your Plate?

I was taught to approach con­sump­tion from the per­spec­tive of moderation.

“Every­thing in moderation.”

Hoo boy, how I hated being told this as a child. Mod­er­a­tion is so….MODERATE. Puri­tan. Buttoned-down. Laaaa-aaame.

Yes, you can watch TV, but just a lit­tle.” “Yes, you can have a cookie, but just one.”

It’s a qual­i­fied “yes, but”.

And while we all love a “yes”, nobody likes a “but”.

It became appar­ent that this ver­sion of mod­er­a­tion was all about going with­out, based on cul­tural mores rooted in glut­tony, politesse and virtues. It made for some com­pli­cated rela­tion­ships: I want this, but can only have a lit­tle, which has me want­ing it more.

It is the “more” that was — and remains — the problem.

For me. (And maybe for you?)

More food. More con­ver­sa­tion. More oblig­a­tions. More infor­ma­tion. I had lost the sense of how I wanted to FEEL dur­ing and post-consumption. Back then, it was about fill­ing up, not fuel­ing up.

Big dif­fer­ence.

I wasn’t savour­ing, I was shov­el­ing. A bulging cal­en­dar meant a life well-lived. A heap­ing plate meant abun­dance. A full closet meant affluence.

So why was I feel­ing so depleted?

You know the answer: I was choos­ing quan­tity over quality.

In choos­ing dubi­ous qual­ity, I was pro­duc­ing dubi­ous qual­ity in my rela­tion­ships, work and art.

Crap in, crap out.

There is this truth: there is only so much room, and there is only so much time. And mercy me, this truth becomes more and more acute with every pass­ing year.

I now approach MOST con­sump­tion from the per­spec­tive of a small plate at a large and sump­tu­ous buf­fet of life.

I’m not talk­ing about scarcity here. I’m talk­ing about INTENTION, ’cause, Dar­lin’ I don’t doubt for a nanosec­ond that you have the capac­ity to receive many more gifts, much more wealth and much more joy in your life. And don’t you dare doubt that either.

What I am advo­cat­ing is crystal-clear clar­ity about your inten­tion as you approach that buffet.

What do you want from this meal, con­ver­sa­tion, hour, visit? Do you want to feel ener­gized? Inspired? Alive? Accom­plished? Comforted?

Let this inten­tion inform your every choice.

Will you be sati­ated with filet or filler? Fact-finding or Face­book? Meet­ing your mother or “How I met your mother”?

You get to choose.

And if you find your­self becom­ing over­stuffed, over­whelmed, over­sched­uled or over­weight, notice what — and how much — you’ve invited onto your plate.

Believe as I do that you can han­dle it AND choose dif­fer­ently the next trip to the buffet.

Mind­fully.

So go ahead and fuel up. Just don’t for­get to leave a lit­tle room for dessert.


by Tanya Geisler

Making Big, Shiny Change

When it comes to change, there are a ton of long-held per­spec­tives that have infil­trated our col­lec­tive psy­ches. Here’s what imme­di­ately pops for me:

Change is bad.
Change is good.
Change is scary.
Change is essen­tial.
Change is inevitable.

I got curi­ous about how oth­ers feel about change, so I decided to crowd­source this topic and asked my Twit­ter and Face­book network:

Please fill in the blank: Change is ___________.

And boy, did crowd-sourcing get crowded. Peo­ple showed up:

Change is growth.
Change is a new begin­ning.
Change is an oppor­tu­nity
Change is con­stant. As in, noth­ing is con­stant by change
Change is hard when you want it and even harder when you don’t.
Change is obliv­i­ously nec­es­sary.
Change is a rolling sea of self-discovery.
Change is the only sure thing.
Change is fun!!!
Change is the ner­vous, scary, thrilling, hell YES! swirly feel­ing in your stom­ach.
Change is the nature of real­ity.
Change is the one thing we all want. Even though we pre­tend we don’t.
Change is never as scary as the story made up in our heads says it is.
Change is heal­ing.
Change is con­stant, scary and lib­er­at­ing.
Change stop in your tracks if you let or it can fly you for­ward if you jump on and hang on.
Change is cre­ation at work.
Change is the E-ticket ride of life.
Change chal­lenges us to become some­one we were wait­ing to be!
Change is inevitable and can’t hap­pen too quickly.
Change is up to me.
Change is good. Even if it comes kick­ing and scream­ing.
Change is nec­es­sary for growth and sur­vival.
Change is cer­tain, whether you are ready or not.
Change is wel­come.
Change is inevitable.
Change is freeing!

Yes.

To every last statement.

At var­i­ous points along the path of change, some answers feel more rel­e­vant than others…

…but with each answer, I felt truth resonate.

(Psssst…Here’s a lit­mus test to reveal your own per­spec­tive on change.  Notice your reac­tions when you read the words: “Change of plans.” Or: “time for a change”. How do you feel? Excited? Annoyed? Frus­trated? Fearful?)

Change is…Different. And So Your Responses Will Be Dif­fer­ent, Too.

When I think about change, I notice that there are two TYPES of change:

1) Change that is thrust upon us.
2) Change we choose (a.k.a. change we thrust upon ourselves).

Cir­cum­stan­tial change can be com­pli­cated in how it man­i­fests and yet sim­ple in how we must approach it: adapt or die.

Your part­ner loses their job. There’s an unex­pected preg­nancy. You’re asked to relocate.

At our worst, we kick, scream, deny and avoid. At our best, we rec­og­nize the oppor­tu­nity (after we’ve kicked and screamed and denied and avoided). And then we pro­ceed. Evolv­ing as we go.

But choos­ing to make a change?

Ahhhh. THIS is where the honey is at.

By and large, most respon­dents to my less-than-scientific-experiment sug­gested that this kind of change is essential.

We know it. We know we’ve been mak­ing excuses our whole lives: for our dis­con­nec­tion, for our weight, for our smok­ing, for our poor diet, for our unful­fill­ing career.

Then some­thing hap­pens. It could be an event, or we hit a wall, or we just get tired. In that moment, we decide to stop mak­ing excuses and start mak­ing changes.

And that moment is exhilarating…

…and scary as hell.

Imme­di­ately, our now-wide-awake inner voices (crit­ics, grem­lins, saboteurs…whatever you call them) start fran­ti­cally scream­ing: “NO NO NO!!!! Don’t change! Stay safe! Keep your head down. WHATEVER YOU DODO NOTHING!!!!”

Given the vis­ceral knee-jerk reac­tion, it’s a won­der we per­se­vere. And yet we do.

Per­se­vere. Change. Plan. Shine.

Here’s how to make a change. Any change. On your terms.

  1. Get clear about WHY you want to make the change. What’s the ulti­mate goal and how will you FEEL? What will this change give you?
  2. Set your “start” and “by when” dates. And don’t allow your­self to get freaked out about either date. They can’t hurt you…I promise.
  3. Know your trig­gers and plan for work-arounds. And if you DON’T know your trig­gers, spend some time doc­u­ment­ing them before your start date. (What was going on before you reached for the Chips Ahoy, cig­a­rette, or remote control?)
  4. Decide how you’ll mea­sure your progress. Is Excel your friend or foe? A white­board check­list? A notepad that goes every­where you go?
  5. Ready your sup­port sys­tems (account­abil­ity part­ner­ships work wonders).
  6. Com­mit fully to your start date. Do this as pub­licly as you are will­ing to. (Maybe even more so).
  7. Check in truth­fully with your­self as you log your progress. Also take time to feel into what’s going on with you. Where’s the resis­tance? What are you resist­ing (for real?) How can this be more fun (yup, I went there)?
  8. Expect home­osta­sis and be ready for it. Know it’s a good sign (it will set in when you’re part­way through the change when the old is undone and the new is not yet embed­ded). You’re mostly there, Rock Star!
  9. Lean into your sup­port. They said “yes” because they want you to succeed.
  10. Cel­e­brate every win. Daily.
  11. Count on slip­ping and know how you are with that. Learn from it, recal­i­brate and have another go. You must. You’re count­ing on you.

And while you’re doing all of that, remem­ber this, Sun­shine: you can make changes or you can make excuses. Your choice.

Blaze on.


by Tanya Geisler

Leaving Space In New Beginnings

Though already nine months into the year, Sep­tem­ber always feels like a new begin­ning to me. A joy­ful one of shift­ing tem­per­a­tures, vivid colours, crisp­ness and tex­ture. Oh how I adore this time of year.
 
We awaken from the stupour of the heat and shake off the slug­gish­ness of lazy (albeit) bliss­ful days on the patio or at the splash pad. Our wits sharpen with the tem­per­a­tures, and we GET. BACK. TO. IT…be it work, rou­tine, or school, with a goal in mind.
 
For a moment’s breath, the slates are clean and the can­vasses are blank. And it’s lovely to behold.
 
With said goal in mind and with the knowl­edge that this new begin­ning is the first leg in the jour­ney to that end­point, we take a deep col­lec­tive inhale, and then: ATTACK! Fill that can­vas! Plug those holes in the cal­en­dar! Write those words (no…you can do bet­ter…COME ON, write another 500), by GOD, do NOT leave any room! More is MORE, PEOPLE!
 
And hun­kered down, like the nav­i­ga­tor whose nose is buried in the map, we miss it. The won­der around us.  And within us.

Let’s Try This

While it is true that to begin some­thing we must envi­sion what we are cre­at­ing in its com­pleted state, I invite you to con­sider what it might be like, TRULY be like, to cel­e­brate the jour­ney from “here”…to “there”. To slowly taste our way through the cre­ation of the soup using fewer ingre­di­ents, rather than rac­ing to pro­duce the recipe-perfect end-product. More unami? More spice? Is it tar­ragon that’s want­ing to show up? Taste. Pause. Then repeat. And leave some room.

Approach the can­vas with your vision in mind, and rel­ish every stroke. Have it be fun and dare to have it be incom­plete. Then mar­vel in the riot of colour on that can­vas AND what remains pos­si­ble in the white space you’ve left. It may be more com­plete than you ever imagined.

Leave your­self room to tin­ker with your recipe. Leave white space on your canvas.

Write fewer words. Speak fewer words.

What’s avail­able now that it’s not all been said? {Hint: Your answers lie in your abil­ity to engage your intu­ition, your capac­ity to lis­ten deeply and your open­ness to your curiosity.}

“Live in a space of let­ting go.” ~ Oprah

Hold­ing space can also mean mak­ing space:

End­ing the rela­tion­ship that has been toxic for so long to make room for the one that yearns to begin.
 
Let­ting go of the story and bask in the glo­ri­ous lib­erty of the truth.
 
Releas­ing the pat­terns that bind and cel­e­brat­ing the move­ment now avail­able.

And as I begin my fall projects (of which there are many), I will keep time in my cal­en­dar to flit­ter and flut­ter. Over­plan­ning kills cre­ativ­ity. So does clamp­ing down and crowd­ing.  Always.

This fall, I choose to view the blank can­vas with an eye towards com­ple­tion, yes, and a com­mit­ment to white space. Leav­ing some and mak­ing some.

I will allow my cre­ativ­ity to blaze in this place of expan­sive­ness. And to savour what’s newly possible.

Will you join me?


by Tanya Geisler