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Tag: risk

It doesn’t have to be great.

In fact, it doesn’t even have to be good.

We put so much expectation and pressure on ourselves to do something amazing, to be really incredible and innovative and caring and original and… We stop ourselves from doing any thing at all.

We’re not just stopping ourselves. We’re stopping our teams. Our employees, our children. Ideas and dreams dead before they’re given a chance to take flight.

We must give up. Release control. Let things become messy, imperfect and ruined. Then, we will get started. Then, we will finish. Then, we can become better.

Bad work gives you room to improve. Lessons can be learned about how to get it right the next time around. Confidence is built, and habits are established. Habits of creation, productivity, perseverance and strength.

Need a community to help you get out of your own way? Check out Seth’s Your Turn Challenge or request to attend an upcoming dinner in New York City.

The world needs your work — bad, good or great.

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 hardest part

The terror, the fear. The realization this is the moment that separates good from greatness. Your chance to succeed, to make your dreams real. The do or die.

Your stomach churns and your heartbeat quickens.

The leap.

You’re not alone.

The school boy entering his first class.
The athlete poised at the starting block.
His first college exam.
Her investor pitch.
Signing the contract.
The alarm goes off.

You’ve felt this before.

You survived.

You moved on to the next, bigger thing.

Accept the fear. It’s part of it. Then begin.

Autonomy (I will teach you to be rich and have a perfect body and find the love of your life)

There is one faucet wheel left in the kitchen. When you turn the water on or off, it drops with a loud CLANG into the tin sink. I’ve offered to have it fixed. “It’s not our house,” they say. I’ve been living here for just over one year; they’ve been here for seven.

I live among the people I work for (and with). Not only have I grown to love them like my own family, I’ve been offered a window into their lives, the trials they must suffer and how they see the world. One of the best gifts in life is a new perspective, and I’ve been lucky to be invited to share theirs.

I’ve compared the psyche of probationers and CMOs, entrepreneurs and monks, diamond sellers and social workers. There’s one significant difference.

It’s what marketing schemes and addiction recovery theories capitalize on. It’s what books promise when they tell you “I will show you how to get rich” and fitness models tempt with chiseled abs and downloadable workout videos. It’s how self help “gurus” sell monthly packages and some people start businesses while others stay at jobs they hate for years on end.

Autonomy.

Autonomy is the belief that you can do, and that you’re capable of doing. People who are depressed lose this. This is the tragedy when you see animals, even people, trapped, locked up, stuck. They’ve lost the belief that their actions have an effect, so they give up. This is the worst thing.

The belief in yourself comes BEFORE any plan or action. It requires confidence and courage. It is the seed from which work and ideas blossom. Where creativity takes flight.

It doesn’t have to be big. One thought, “I can do,” followed by “I am doing,” and finally, “I did it!” tends to ripple. A little thing becomes the next, slightly bigger thing. And before you know it, you’re making dreams come to life.

Start with the kitchen sink.

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

Lessons on working for free

For almost one year, I’ve volunteered my time serving a group of people I’ve grown to care for immensely. While I’ve sacrificed a lot, I’ve been granted much more in return. Some key takeaways:

1. Let excitement be your guide.

Excitement is an internal barometer letting you know you’re on track. If you’re not excited to get to work, you’re in the wrong place.

There was a time I had to coax myself out of bed in the morning. I was bored, frustrated, unchallenged, disenchanted. After I began placing myself in environments that made me feel valued and appreciated, a train engine powered my days. Clocking hours no longer mattered, and my worth became less about the money I was making and more about the contribution I was adding to the world around me.

2. Don’t be afraid to ask for help.

It’s impossible have all the answers. Pretending you do so only prevents you from building relationships and trusted communities. Questions – no matter how obvious they may seem – not only provide information but also serve as gateway to meaningful connections. Asking for help allows others the opportunity to teach you about their world and their way of doing things. If you’re afraid to ask, you can bank on missing out.

3. Give, and you’ll be taken care of.

Decisions can be made from one of two places: scarcity or abundance.

A scarcity mentality is restricted to a finite amount of resources. The underlying emotion is fear. What if there isn’t enough, what if I give and there’s nothing left for me?

Abundant thinking, however, evolves from a place of trust, faith, and confidence. There is always enough; in fact, there is more than enough. Giving becomes less of a sacrifice and more of a responsibility to do what’s right — a pleasure.

I used to think a lot about what I didn’t have. In hindsight, I prevented myself from becoming who I wanted to be. When I started to concentrate on what I do have, I gave more. I cared less about what was lacking and more about using my gifts in a way that mattered.

4. Worry less (it paralyzes you)!

Worrying serves no one. It’s a black hole, a basket collecting your best ideas and strongest intentions. Anxiety has stopped me from solidifying friendships, initiating projects, finishing goals. I’ve found myself slave to an endless chain of insecurity about my worth, capability, value, productivity, and possibility. Not beneficial. Not fun.

The irony is this: when I gave more, I was given more. Even though I haven’t received a paycheck, I’ve been taken care of — there’s a roof over my head, food to eat, people to cheer me on. I’ve received introductions to incredibly accomplished individuals and have found greater depth in my relationships.

Yes, due-diligence is required to develop plans and take action. But after you’ve put in your work, believe in yourself and the purity of your intentions. Your efforts will pay off.