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Beliefs and your destiny

Your beliefs become your thoughts,
Your thoughts become your words,
Your words become your actions,
Your actions become your habits,
Your habits become your values,
Your values become your destiny.

Gandhi

It sounds cliche, but it’s true.

Pay attention to the places your mind wanders.

(Want a “real life” example? Read my story about hard work, dreams and Learning House in Nepal.)

7 steps to find your purpose

“How do I find my purpose?” I hear this one a lot. It’s a big question, and in Western society, a lot of weight is placed on the answer. When I came across mine, I wasn’t looking. In fact, I had given up the pro/con lists and analysis charts, and I donated “What Color Is Your Parachute?” to the local bookstore. I very well understood what I did and did not like. I knew exactly what caused me pain and what made me feel good. I knew that giving to others and serving communities made me feel at ease and alive and redirected self-absorption away from myself and onto something positive.

While the path to finding purpose is hardly straight and narrow, there are steps you can take to find your way.

1. Know what you’re good at.
This requires a bit of truth-telling on your part. If you have dreams of joining the MLS but lack coordination and athleticism, it might not be the best use of your energy to focus on what’s unattainable. Instead, consider the skills and talents you do have. What do you do well? What are you known for? Ask a friend if you need help identifying your plus points.

2. Know what you hate.
Sometimes knowing what you DO NOT LIKE is easier than figuring out what you do. It’s pretty straight-forward if you have a visceral reaction to something, and you know when you dislike a certain kind of work. It’s simple: don’t like it, don’t do it.

3. Identify your “non-negotiables.”
This is a phrase often used by matchmaking extraordinaire Patti Stanger. Not only can identifying a list of “must-haves” in a mate help you find The One, it can also help you find The Work. The process forces you to drill down those items that are most important to you while simultaneously reminding you of the fact there will always be shortcomings. No situation is perfect. Compromise and exchange is inherent to the most valuable relationships and life experiences. You will have to give up something in order to do the kind of work you love. What that something is depends on you.

4. Change your environment.
From the clients I’ve worked with, the ones most looking for their purpose are the ones feeling the most stuck. Altering your environment can help. It doesn’t need to be a trip around the world. Changing the furniture in your office, hanging new paintings, even going for long walks can freshen your perspective.

5. Establish routine.
This sounds counterintuitive, but creating a daily routine builds the framework to invite sparks of imagination into your world. It’s like a creative brief: without one, creative people go crazy. Provide a bit of guidance, however, and ideas can be channeled in such a way that finished projects satisfy and delight clients. You also need structure to feel good. Eat frequent meals, sleep at consistent times, exercise regularly. Having a schedule will give your mind a break in routine areas so it can focus on what really matters.

6. Realize nothing is perfect.
Even when you do find the work that makes you come alive, there will be days that feel like death. Once you realize this, there is less pressure on daily ups and downs, and you can relax into projects that bring you satisfaction. I’m not talking about settling, I’m talking about coming to terms with moments that are challenging and hard (typically these tumultuous times are good for you, serving to recommit yourself to your purpose).

7. Don’t stop.
Don’t quit. Don’t give up. You’re too important. The world needs you.

What if it felt like heli-skiing from your desk?

James Altucher recently interviewed Seth Godin on fear, anxiety and doing work that matters. They discuss the separation between the Do-ers and the Sitters, those who put themselves in the game and those who watch from the sidelines wishing they could play.

One of the main categorical differences is fear: the Do-ers don’t let it stop them. They find ways to circumnavigate their anxiety so that slowly, overtime, they can act and experience, learning tactics to manage stress along the way. The Sitters haven’t quite figured out how to conquer their fear. Paralyzed, they’re crippled by the weight of self-expectation and prediction.

Seth brings up an excellent point (41:25): no one learning to ski signs up for heli-skiing. First, they hit the bunny slopes, building up their skills before dropping down black diamonds and exploring out-of-bounds terrain. Some start climbing mountains. With adrenaline pulsing through their veins, they crave more — a greater rush, bigger accomplishments, challenge. Perhaps THEN they purchase a heli-tour to destinations they never before imagined navigating on skis.

Not everyone enjoys heli-skiing, or even skiing for that matter. We have different thresholds for anxiety and adrenaline. Your task is to find your edge, the line that seems scary to cross. The place you are most true to yourself, where your best and most meaningful work await. That moment you’re afraid. That’s when you have to sign yourself up.

Maybe you find that jumping-out-of-a-plane feeling writing silently at your desk. It might be ten minutes of scribbling in a private journal. A comment placed on a public forum. Emails sent to authors you admire. A site launch to publish your ideas.

We’re more forgiving to athletes than we are to ourselves.

The Invitation

It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing.

It doesn’t interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn’t interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the centre of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life’s betrayals or have become shrivelled and closed from fear of further pain.

I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it, or fade it, or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own; if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, be realistic, remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn’t interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself. If you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul. If you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see Beauty even when it is not pretty every day. And if you can source your own life from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand at the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, ‘Yes.’

It doesn’t interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone and do what needs to be done to feed the children.

It doesn’t interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the centre of the fire with me and not shrink back.

It doesn’t interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.

-by Oriah

The paradox of our age

I found this printed on a banner hanging in a teahouse in Nepal.

We have bigger houses but smaller families;
more conveniences, but less time.

We have more degrees but less sense;
more knowledge but less judgment;
more experts, but more problems;
more medicines but less healthiness.

We’ve been all the way to the moon and back,
but have trouble crossing the street to meet our new neighbor.

We built more computers to hold more copies than ever,
but have less real communication;
We have become long on quantity,
but short on quality.

These are times of fast foods but slow digestion;
Tall men but short characters;
Steep profits but shallow relationships.

It’s a time when there is much in the window but nothing in the room.

-HH 14th Dalai Lama