In the summer of 2010 the BBC launched a three episode mini-series called “Sherlock”. It tells the story of Sherlock Holmes in modern day. After a 17-month hiatus, it debuted a second season, also consisting of three episodes.

I cannot describe in words how much I love this show, or what a major event it was in my life when it finally (finally!) aired new episodes. I was physically shaking with adrenaline, and could barely sit still through the first episode. I share this not as an endorsement or recommendation of the show, but because of a thought I had while witnessing my rather dramatic reaction: do I want to be more excited about a TV show than about my daily life?

My life is narrated by my thoughts and emotions about reality, which makes for a rather intense subject matter. Add to this the unpredictability of each moment, the changing cast of characters (and the dramatic interactions with those characters), the frankly unbelievable twists, and the fact that it’s all about Me, well, how could I not be quivering with excitement at the prospect of each new day?

For the first three weeks of January Sherlock aired new episodes. For each of those weeks, I compared my enthusiasm about the day with my enthusiasm for the upcoming episode. If I found my thoughts drifting to the show, I brought them (with all the attendant excitement) to what I was doing. I made no attempt to direct events in a particular direction, just to be interested in them.

As an exercise, imagine your life is a story. Suppose what creates the story is not a series of events, but your level of interest in it. Think of something in your life you really enjoy and notice how excited you are about it. Entertain the possibility that you were excited first, and this event in your life arose spontaneously as a mirror of your natural enthusiasm. What happens when you consciously choose to be enthusiastic about a day, regardless of what you imagine might happen in it?

What I discovered in addressing each day as an exciting adventure in which I couldn’t wait to see what happened next, was that the stories told became much more interesting.

It was like turning up the colors of my life. Experiences became more vibrant, and I discovered just how much I truly enjoy the vast majority of what I do in a day. In fact, the more interested I was, the more enjoyable the activities – including ones like cleaning the bathroom or preparing my tax records – became.

All of this came out of a resolve not to let a TV show be more exciting than my life. I’m still very enthusiastic about this particular show, but nothing in it can compare to the excitement of knowing that I get to be an active player in a never before told story this very moment, and anything is possible.

This letter was posted on the website, “Letters of Note”, http://www.lettersofnote.com/ which gathers real-life letters, postcards, etc that are significant in some way. A friend brought this website to my attention, and I felt moved to share this particular part of a letter on my own blog.

In July of 1931, author and philosopher Will Durant wrote to a number of notable figures and asked, essentially, “What is the meaning of life?” His letter concluded:

Spare me a moment to tell me what meaning life has for you, what keeps you going, what help—if any—religion gives you, what are the sources of your inspiration and your energy, what is the goal or motive-force of your toil, where you find your consolations and your happiness, where, in the last resort, your treasure lies. Write briefly if you must; write at length and at leisure if you possibly can; for every word from you will be precious to me.

Durant received many replies, a selection of which were compiled in the book, “On the Meaning of Life.” It includes a profound response by H.L. Mencken, the first part of which so exactly matches my own philosophy I couldn’t help but share it here:

Dear Durant

You ask me, in brief, what satisfaction I get out of life, and why I go on working. I go on working for the same reason that a hen goes on laying eggs. There is in every living creature an obscure but powerful impulse to active functioning. Life demands to be lived. Inaction, save as a measure of recuperation between bursts of activity, is painful and dangerous to the healthy organism—in fact, it is almost impossible. Only the dying can be really idle.

The precise form of an individual’s activity is determined, of course, by the equipment with which he came into the world. In other words, it is determined by his heredity. I do not lay eggs, as a hen does, because I was born without any equipment for it. For the same reason I do not get myself elected to Congress, or play the violoncello, or teach metaphysics in a college, or work in a steel mill. What I do is simply what lies easiest to my hand. It happens that I was born with an intense and insatiable interest in ideas, and thus like to play with them. It happens also that I was born with rather more than the average facility for putting them into words. In consequence, I am a writer and editor, which is to say, a dealer in them and concoctor of them.

There is very little conscious volition in all this. What I do was ordained by the inscrutable fates, not chosen by me. In my boyhood, yielding to a powerful but still subordinate interest in exact facts, I wanted to be a chemist, and at the same time my poor father tried to make me a business man. At other times, like any other realtively poor man, I have longed to make a lot of money by some easy swindle. But I became a writer all the same, and shall remain one until the end of the chapter, just as a cow goes on giving milk all her life, even though what appears to be her self-interest urges her to give gin.

I am far luckier than most men, for I have been able since boyhood to make a good living doing precisely what I have wanted to do—what I would have done for nothing, and very gladly, if there had been no reward for it. Not many men, I believe, are so fortunate. Millions of them have to make their livings at tasks which really do not interest them. As for me, I have had an extraordinarily pleasant life, despite the fact that I have had the usual share of woes. For in the midst of these woes I still enjoyed the immense satisfaction which goes with free activity. I have done, in the main, exactly what I wanted to do. Its possible effects on other people have interested me very little. I have not written and published to please other people, but to satisfy myself, just as a cow gives milk, not to profit the dairyman, but to satisfy herself. I like to think that most of my ideas have been sound ones, but I really don’t care. The world may take them or leave them. I have had my fun hatching them.

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our
deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.”
Marianne Williamson

“It’s a dangerous business, going out your front door.”
J.R.R. Tolkien, The Hobbit

When starting my business I decided the best way to market my work was to speak to groups and offer sample readings. This quickly led to regular monthly workshops, and eventually the creation of a meetup. The meetup now has me organizing and/or leading 3 – 5 events a month, including a bi-monthly support group.

The result is every month for the past two years I have given public presentations. This is okay, except I recently noticed I’m terrified of public speaking.

Well, it’s not so much public speaking as rejection I fear. When one stands up in front of a group of people, it gives them a strong opportunity to decide whether or not they like you. The larger the group, the greater the possibility someone in it will reject you.

The more successful we become, the more people see us, and the greater the danger of being unwelcome. Someone wiser than me might point out here that other people’s opinions don’t matter, knowing your own value is enough, and you give away your power when you try to please others.

All of that may well be true, but it’s a lesson I’m still learning and I don’t feel prepared to speak on it now. Rather I will share what has helped me continue to teach classes, lead groups, and send mass e-mails to hundreds of people despite all my fear:  a quote.

Specifically, the one mentioned above spoken by the character Bilbo Baggins. Going out your front door is a dangerous thing. And that’s okay.

Some weeks ago I came home shaking from a talk I’d given, my faith in myself and my abilities shattered by what I believed to be a poor performance on my part. That quote came unbidden to my mind, and I found myself laughing with gratitude and relief.

I realized even if I truly had done a terrible job I wouldn’t change a thing. All I had done – all any of us ever do when we endeavor to create in the world – is go out the front door.

I’d say anything that happens after that is by definition okay, because the alternative would be unthinkable. The alternative would be the greatest artists in the world never picking up a paintbrush, scientific discoveries never being made, and the loss of invention itself. I refuse to live in such a world, which is why you’ll notice a list of events next to this article.

I would suggest that true success is in doing a thing, not in how it’s received. I would suggest that it is better to take advantage of opportunities than to wonder what might have been. And I would suggest that tea and a good book are always available if you need time to recover from a particularly worrisome adventure.

These are quotes that have had lasting effect in my life. I found they awoke a positive aspect inside myself, and persistently nudged it into staying awake.  I thought it worthwhile to share them, since I can’t seem to forget them.

~~

“We can do no great things, only small things with great love.” Mother Theresa

~

“There is a vitality, a life force, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all time, this expression is unique. And if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium and (will) be lost. It is not your business to determine how good it is; nor how valuable it is; nor how it compares with other expressions. It is your business to keep it yours, clearly and directly, to keep the channel open. You do not even have to believe in yourself or your work. No artist is pleased. There is no satisfaction whatever at any time. There is only a queer, divine dissatisfaction, a blessed unrest that keeps us marching and makes us alive.”  Martha Graham

~

“Nothing in the world can take the place of Persistence. Talent will not; nothing is more common than unsuccessful men with talent. Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost a proverb. Education will not; the world is full of educated derelicts. Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent. The slogan ‘Press On’ has solved and always will solve the problems of the human race.”  Calvin Coolidge

~

“If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost; that is where they should be. Now put foundations under them.”
Henry David Thoreau

~

“You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.” Wayne Gretzky

~

“Be the change you wish to see in the world.” Gandhi

~

“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’s 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’re liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.” Marianne Williamson

Happiness is not a state to arrive at, but a manner of traveling. 
Margaret Lee Runbeck

How does it serve?

This is a question I was taught to ask in place of, “does it make me happy?”  The idea is to learn to make choices outside of the reactive realm of emotions, and to base them on developing one’s personal evolution instead.

Yet I found my answers to the question, “how does it serve?” always trended toward telling a story that it might lead to something that would one day make me happy.  Meaning becoming happy was still the underlying motive for my choices. 

The only trouble with this mindset is it enforces the idea that I am not already happy, and there is something about the present moment that requires improvement.  In order to escape the belief that there was something wrong with my life, I needed to learn to orient toward goals that didn’t enforce that idea.

So I started asking more detailed questions, in alignment with the spirit of “how does it serve?”  I noticed they work best from a space of neutral observation:

Does this activity or thought encourage me to become more conscious or less conscious of my present experience?

What is the action of the energy?  If I follow the energy of where I am putting my attention, where does it take me?

What am I holding onto?  What is it like to let it go?

In my experience, the most useful intention is to achieve neutrality.  Happiness is already here, it is when we make it a goal that we experience separation from it and bind ourselves to an elusive chase.

Neutrality on the other hand is a freeing tool.  It observes experience, and the thoughts about experience, and allows for ever expanding awareness of what else is here, and what else is possible.  It has no charge so cannot be caught in a pattern of the mind, rather it recognizes the patterns and makes a different choice.  Practice being a neutral observer, and you notice there is a sense of expansive joy woven into the very nature of your being.

What am I holding onto?

Feeling upset is often another way of feeling threatened.  An idea or story is coming in that we don’t like because it threatens a belief we are holding onto that might lead to deeper truth if released.  If you can observe what feels threatened, often the need to keep it in place will let go and the negative response will give way to a feeling of expansiveness or peace.  The deeper things hit us, the harder it can be to see what we are holding on to, so give yourself time to sit with this question.

Neuroscientist Dr. Jill Bolte Taylor (see the previous post for more about her)  discovered that an emotion can only exist by itself for 90 seconds, after that it requires thoughts to sustain it.

Also interesting, it’s not possible to feel something unpleasant – grief, anger, etc. – without thoughts to trigger it.

So here’s an exercise I was introduced to a few weeks ago, by my beloved teacher Joey Klein.  Think of a relationship or situation in your life you aren’t entirely satisfied with and wish to improve.  Feel the feelings that come up when you think of it, and now ask to feel the emotion by itself, with no story around it.

Give yourself time, and notice your experience.  

Most people will find themselves shifted into a space of peace rather easily.  Others may feel the original emotion lingering on, in which case I invite you to notice any thoughts there may be and again relax with the feeling.  Or, if you like, you can ask to bring the emotion up without any story (thoughts to trigger it) and see what happens.  Keep in mind, you aren’t allowed to think “I am angry”, since that’s still a thought.

Understanding how delicate emotions are, and how dependent they are on our mental participation, why then do emotions seem to trap us?  Why do we continuously run in circles, trying to get away from bad feelings and chasing after the elusive carrots of peace and happiness?

To fully answer this question would take more time and space than my newsletter allows, but to say it briefly:  habit.  Thoughts are more addictive than heroine, and they come laden with emotions and physical responses to help lay in the belief that they are true.  When an event carries an intense emotional charge we are trained to jump in with thoughts to create space and avoid the scary feelings (vulnerability, horror, etc).  These thoughts are then themselves weighted by the very thing they are protecting against, creating a magnetic pull back to the emotions that need to be processed.

An experiment:  the next time your mind goes into an echo chamber, thinking the same things over and over, stop and ask to feel the feelings underneath the story.  Ask to feel what’s really happening.  Something deep was triggered, and the mind is trained to protect against it with its spinning thoughts.  That’s okay.  You can give your mind a break, and just ask to feel what’s there.  You don’t have to do anything else.

Perhaps peace seems elusive because it’s so simple.  We have this belief things have to be hard to be achieved, and we tend to skip over what’s here, now, and directly available.  The truth is it doesn’t even take a breath to experience peace.  Just feel what’s here, and peace will show up on its own.

I will be teaching a class at the end of the month, “Becoming an Emotional Genius”, that will expand on the concepts in this article to lay a groundwork for developing mastery of your emotions.  See the announcements to learn more.

This talk blew me away. Insight into how the brain works, but much more than that, who and what we truly are:

Every artist was first an amateur.
Ralph Waldo Emerson

I began training martial arts in July 2004, just before my 23rd birthday.  It quickly took over my life, and while the level of intensity in my training has waxed and waned with time, my passion and commitment to martial arts has not.

I write this on an upswing, having just attended five classes in four days at two different locations.  Yet here’s the thing:  I’m not very good.

I walked into a new school recently where they didn’t know me, the level of rank I’d achieved elsewhere or the impressive sounding things I had done.

Based on what I demonstrated, they started saying things like, “don’t worry, you’ll get it in time” and “if this is too hard you can modify it”.  I found myself impatient, blustering, and frustrated as I was grouped with the people who’d never done martial arts before and seemed to be at their level.

Then I remembered something useful, and relaxed.

I don’t have to be good at this.  I have never once approached my training with a goal in mind or an expectation for what I’d be able to do.  I train because it meets a need, that is all.  Lack of talent is actually a blessing in its way.  It keeps me humble, and gives me the freedom to try without pressure to succeed.

I’m back to old habits, training as often as I can for as many hours possible at a time.  There is evident improvement always, and the physical/emotional benefits for my life are clear.  I keep my heart open and enjoy doing, never mind if I still lose my balance or sense of location when I close my eyes.

We don’t have to be good at things to do them.  The usefulness of training martial arts has been apparent throughout my life, but if I made external factors the benchmark for my success I’d have given up a long time ago.

When we allow ourselves to do things for the joy of doing, we create unimaginable new opportunities for our lives.  I recently started taking singing lessons, playing tennis, running obstacle courses, and meeting with financial advisors.  I’m not especially good at any of these things and have perhaps embarrassed myself on more than one occasion, but the opportunities and gifts that come from doing far, far outweigh the fear that would stop me from trying.

Being good at something is an arbitrary assessment.  It is a thought in our heads.  It limits us to the things that come easiest, and cuts off the vast majority of our potential.  My physical abilities are now far beyond what they would be if I’d stopped training because I didn’t believe I was any good.

I’ve recently taken on a lot of things beyond the sphere of my overt talents, and my mantra is “I don’t have to be good at it, I can just play”.  Permission to be at the level I am at is all I need.  Otherwise I wouldn’t have made it through my first singing lesson.

I would invite you to imagine something that you’ve always wanted to be able to do, and start doing it.  It’s another way of saying yes to your heart, and opening a little bit more to the vast potential life.

I will be leading a class at the end of October, “Letting Yourself Succeed” that will explore this concept in greater detail.  Click on the Events page to learn more.

I asked God if it was okay to sing at the top of my lungs

and she said yes

I asked her if I could climb mountains

and paint silk and love furry animals and and and

and she said, of course you can

I asked if it was okay to have big dreams,

dreams that feel bigger than me,

and  she laughed sweetly and said,

darling, you would not be you without big dreams

and I sighed.

I asked her if it was ok if I squirm in my seat when bored

(sometimes I write bad poetry or doodle too)

and she said yes, my dear, yes.

Thanks God, I said

and is it okay that I misspell words and forget

to balance my checkbook?

Yes, snookums- where did she get that–

what I’m saying is  

YES YES YES 

From Luna Jaffe’s newsletter, of Lunaria Financial, LTD.