20 rules for dreamers

  1. There is no right answer.
  2. Start with options.
  3. Choose flow over force….
  4. …but force if necessary with value-driven action.
  5. The first two hours are a warm up.
  6. Anything can be done ten minutes at a time.
  7. Accept the possibility of making no progress, or a mistake, or a shitty first draft.*
  8. One thing at a time.
  9. Even the greats don’t know what they’re doing half the time.
  10. If you’re not facing your fear, you’re not working.
  11. Limitations are opportunities for creative solutions.
  12. This isn’t about feeling good.
  13. It’s about getting on with your life.
  14. Negative thoughts can be written down, tape recorded, or otherwise set aside so that you can get back to work.
  15. Leave room for what you can’t imagine.
  16. It doesn’t have to make sense.
  17. You don’t have to achieve anything.
  18. Final grades are based 50% on effort and 50% on self-honesty.
  19. It’s okay to take it slow.
  20. Make your own rules.

* See Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott.

it is what it is.

Because it is.

That’s why.

This is the life you were given.

It has meaning simply because it exists.

Don’t run from it.

Face it.

Face the ugly parts,

the beautiful parts,

and especially the parts

that are beautiful and ugly at the same time.

Don’t try to reason with it.

Life does what it wants.

It won’t ask for your opinion,

and worrying won’t alter its course.

Life chooses us.

Our own choice lies in response, not in circumstance.

There is comfort in realizing you don’t have to orchestrate it all.

Given time, most things take care of themselves.

When we feel we have been denied something,

we miss what we have been given.

Honor:

the wound, not the victimhood;

the emotions, not the drama;

the pain, not the resistance to it.

Your coordinates in time and space are merely a starting point.

More important than what you make of it

is how you allow it to move you;

what you allow to bridge the gap

between form and possibility.

off to work (note to self)

I will try not to think about the hours

or count down the minutes.

If I need a rest, I will take one, whether it’s an actual break, a deep breath, or a gesture of

self-compassion.

If I need stimulation, I will seek it in a healthy way in the moment.

If I get bored, I will remember that it is my responsibility to engage an element of

interest.

If I encounter a challenge, I will trust myself and have confidence that I can handle it,

step by step.

If I want the day to be over already, I will bring my attention deeply into acceptance of

the present moment.

If the present moment contains discomfort, I will hold it and be with it rather than

push it away.

what if

what if

pain isn’t always wrong

tired isn’t always bad

boredom isn’t wasted time

what if

life isn’t about

feeling good

but about

finding meaning

what if

you create meaning

simply by

accepting discomfort

what if

no longer expecting

to feel good

is strangely liberating

what if

you can just rest

knowing that

who you are

where you are

exactly how you are

is just right.

 

meet me there

we must experience suffering
to release it in the magic of creation.

that’s what real art
conveys:

this tension
this opposition
between what hurts us
& what moves us.

what touches us
& makes us catch our breath;

when life slows to a halt
& the message becomes clear;

when exhilaration gives way to exhaustion
& breathless reunion gives way to solitude:
meet me there.

it begins with a deep breath
and goes something like this….

dear dreamer

the world needs its story-tellers
dreamers
lovers
wordsmiths
artsmiths
quiet helpers
kindness-doers
flower-pickers
letter-senders

creators of all sorts
walks
shapes
& sizes.

If you are one of these
yield to yourself
& the creativity that lives
in you--

do not hold out the world.

for it needs your gifts
it needs your love
it is thirsty for your joy.

theater of the imagination

All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players
-As You Like It, Act II, Scene VII

Maybe when you act, you’re not necessarily putting up a false facade.

Maybe you are exaggerating, for theatrical effect, parts of yourself that already exist.

You are a living, breathing hyperbole.

You don’t have to live a double life. It doesn’t have to be complicated. It can be simple, a matter of choosing which parts of yourself to emphasize and which to keep tucked behind the curtain, out of sight but still very much present.

Just because parts of yourself—the wild, loud, sensual, scandalous—are hidden, does not mean they don’t play a role. They are the ones working the pulleys, flicking the switches, turning on the lights and cueing the music.

They are the secret behind your radiance, the reason for the light behind your smile.

Your secret: it’s not your work that’s making you happy. It’s your inner world.

It’s so bright it radiates outward and colors all that you touch.

The mask may hide your true face, but it’s a beautiful mask, something you’re fond of wearing.

Like a magician employing distraction to great effect, you engage in emotional slight of hand. A light deception, nothing to be ashamed of—on the contrary, essential to survival.

It is merely a choice of where to train the spotlight.

Your workday then becomes a playful dance. Your uniform, your costume. Each movement a deliberate expression of your newfound awareness.

Give yourself permission to feel beautiful without regard to your reflection in the mirror. Say your lines, take a bow, and then go home.

Remember what happens when you screw up onstage? You improvise. You take that mistake and you run with it. The show must go on.

The trick is to keep your eyes up and out. The second you make eye contact with a member of the audience, boom, your dance, your lines are wiped clean from your memory. In day-to-day life, you can’t avoid making eye contact. But you can keep your chin up and your inner focus up and out. The woman behind the curtain keeps her gaze high and her inner eye trained on the horizon.