Wise Living Blog

I am amazed and grateful that so many of you – 112 and still counting – took the time to complete the Wise Living survey! (And yes, if you would like to add your input, you still can.)
 
I wanted to share some highlights. This is who you are in company with here at Wise Living.
 
About 85% Wise Living readers are women, though we have a lovely group of male readers too. About 60% of readers are between 30-50, with some younger and some older. We’ve got a few high school and middle school readers too – very cool!
 
You do all kinds of things with your time: a small group are full time parents or caregivers. A significant portion work in helping professions: education, medical care, psychology. This makes sense given the heart-centeredness of Wise Living, but was a surprise.
 
You aren’t huge blog readers or bloggers. Over half of you read fewer than 5 other blogs, and only about 15% of you write a blog. I was happy to read this as one of my intentions for Wise Living was that it reach beyond the blogger scene.
 
You found me through Huffington Post, referrals from friends, or the blogs I guest write for, such as GoodLife Zen and Soulful Living.
 
You subscribe because you find the content “positive,” “though-provoking,” “kind” and “inspiring.” Each of those words came up again and again.
 
Many of you wrote that the posts help you calm down and take a deep breath during your day:
 
“The message is so healthy and important for me – reading it is like taking a pause in my day and grounding myself.”
 
Others read because you are in a time of transition and are figuring out your next step:
 
“I am at a point in my life in wanting to make a career change and was unsure how to even begin thinking about it or doing it.”
 
People also like the length (not too long), the posting schedule – not too frequent.
 
“I like that you do not post every day. You seem to know who you are and you don’t post fluff in an effort to post each day.”
 
Here’s what else you like
 
“The positive, kind message and the soft feel of it.”
 
“It reminds me what is important and helps me focus”
 
“It is profound, gives great advice, and makes me realize not to take things too seriously (much easier said than done).” (Many of you mentioned humor – glad you hear it and appreciate it in the posts.)
 
Some topics you said you’d like to see more about – either on the blog or through a workshop or course are:
 
-Becoming Yourself: Living More Authentically (this was the most popular topic)
-Leaving the B+ Life (this was the number two topic)
-Finding and Following your Calling (this was the number three topic)
-White Space
-More personal stories
-More practical advice
 
I’ll be thinking about what I can offer in these areas in the months to come.
 
In closing, I want to say THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU for taking the time to do the survey, for reading, and for your enthusiasm about Wise Living.
 
It’s almost two years since I started the blog. When I began, and for the many months that followed when I had a very small readership mainly of friends, this – connecting with a community of people who my work spoke to and made a difference for, who I could hear from and learn from– all of that was a dream. It was an important and tender and strong dream.
 
And here it is. Wow. Thank you.
 
Love,
 
Tara

Yes, compassion for Tony Hayward, BP CEO. I’ve got loads of it, and I ask you to have it too.
 
The oil spill boils my blood. I’ve cried about it, ranted about it, shuddered and shook my head. I’ve been angry, sad, shocked.
 
Like so many of us, I’ve asked: How could we let this happen to our planet? How could we bestow so much power to individuals out for private corporate interests? How could we allow disasters like this – without even putting emergency plans in place? How can we be so short sighted, prioritizing economic growth over the health of our ecosystem?
 
Of course, I’m just one of hundreds of millions of individuals feeling this way. In our frustration and pain, most of us got very angry at Tony Hayward, the executive accountable for BP’s actions.
 
My goodness, he made it easy for us. First there was the, “I want my life back” gaffe. Then the parade of PR tactics: lying about the size of the spill and withholding critical information from scientists. There was Hayward’s colleague’s unbelievable “small people” speech and his own rude, defiant behavior with our questioning lawmakers.
 
I don’t know Tony Hayward, but let’s say, for the sake of this article, say he’s the guy he seems to be: mind-bogglingly selfish, arrogant, unfeeling. Let’s even assume he has a cruel disregard for the earth and the people harmed by the spill.
 
The question for each of us is: How do you react to such a human being in your midst? How do you react to the “bad guys”? Hayward, reckless and greedy Wall Street princes, corrupt politicians?
 
You can hate. You can rage. You can wish vengeance.
 
Or you can have compassion. Yes, compassion for Tony Hayward, and others like him.

Compassion is not

We are all novices about compassion, and we mostly misunderstand each other when we talk about it. So let me first make clear a few things I don’t mean when I use the term:
 
I don’t mean I “feel sorry for” Tony Hayward.
I don’t mean I want to hang out with him or be his friend.
I don’t mean I feel any less solidarity with the people and animals victimized by his and BP’s choices.
I don’t mean that I think what he did is okay, or that we should sit back and do nothing about it.
 
I want Hayward and BP held accountable. I want them to pay a serious price, and I want our country to put in place all kinds of measures to prevent this kind of corporate negligence from happening again.
 

Compassion is

Compassion isn’t at odds with any of that.
 
It’s about whether I have anger and hate running through my veins or not.
 
It’s about humility, about whether I assume I’m made of something better than Tony Hayward. Can I know that had I been born into his life — with his personality and DNA, and experiences — that I would have been any more ethical or caring? I can’t know that.
 
The foundation of my compassion is this: I believe that no baby is born with an instinct to harm the earth and other human beings. Something happened along the way to Tony Hayward and others like him – something that I don’t believe any human being wants to choose. It’s something that comes from and then creates a lot of pain. I believe that people will choose caring for others – not harming them – whenever they have the emotional capacity to do so.
 
From that conviction – that every human being is doing the best they can within their emotional capacity – compassion is the natural and rational response.

Compassion and solutions

I also believe it’s practical, that a compassionate response is how we’ll create a world where things like the BP oil spill don’t happen. To create real solutions, we have to understand the real problems. We have to understand the perpetrators. That requires calm curiosity and thoughtful inquiry. From a place of hate and anger, we don’t have the ability to see them or the situation clearly. We are too busy demonizing. We don’t have the ability to be curious, open-minded – because anger and hate rest in a sure conviction of who is wrong, who is bad. Curiosity is all about not-knowing, about looking to find out.
 
To acquire the kind of real understanding that effective solutions (psychological, political, economic) stem from, we need some measure of empathy, openness, non-judgment in learning about what created the tragedies in our midst – whether oppression, cruelty or wanton disregard for the earth.
 
That’s what I believe. It’s not popular, I know.

Curiosity

If compassion seems insane or out of reach to you, then I ask this: go for curiosity. Replace hatred or rage with curiosity. Curiosity about how “bad guys” got to be that way. Deep, impassioned curiosity about what creates the systems that give them so much power.
 
There are no demons on this planet, and no enemies. There are only human beings like you and me, being shaped by forces we have yet to understand. Every insight that will make our planet more enlightened, more humane, begins in empathy, in compassion.
 

Once A Week by Rose Deniz

(Note: this beautiful image is from artist and blogger Rose Deniz. Her work is fabulous. Check it out.)
 
It’s a funny thing about “goals” – the term has come to be associated with a pumped-up, superhero, muscle-man connotation. We’ve come to think of achieving goals like climbing to the top of some mountain, using all our might, and then standing triumphantly at the peak, proclaiming “I did it!” – as if goal achievement is an athletic feat and we are goal-athletes.
 
That paradigm doesn’t work for many of us. If the process is going to be all about sweat and struggle, I’m not interested. If it’s all about might and machismo, I’m rolling my eyes, wondering when I allowed Tony Robbins to go from the television into my head.
 
But I have goals. I still believe in setting goals and working toward them.
 
That got me thinking: what if I shifted my paradigm from “goal athlete” to “goal artist”?
 

Goal Athlete

In the goal athlete frame of mind, I think about goals like this:
 
What’s the goal? What’s my deadline? What are the linear steps to get there? What’s the plan? Who will be my key supports?
 
Some thought like, “the more work, time, effort I can put into this, the better” shows up.
 
There’s a need to say, “I will do it. I can do it. Yes I can.”
 
Stick-to-it-ness (a.k.a. willpower, self-discipline, motivation) seems to be the main quality I need to get the job done. It’s about stamina and execution. It’s all very clear and direct, very hyped-up and adrenaline producing.
 

Goal Artist

When I think of myself as a goal artist, very different thoughts come up:
 
A voice inside says, “Tara, careful: don’t make the plan too specific. Leave room for life to do its work, for coincidences, for what you can’t plan, for magic.
 
Finding ease seems more important than working hard.
 
There’s no pumped up positive thinking needed. Instead, I need to trust the process.
 
The goal itself gets to be a work of art. Its beauty, originality and flair matter. “Publish book by 2011” doesn’t cut it. “Create a beautiful book that feels like serene white space and helps brilliant women live centered lives” just might.
 
I know the path won’t be linear. Progress will happen through flashes of insight, leaps forward. Detours will lead to fruitful places. Important things will gestate in so-called fallow periods.
 
There’s room for intuition and spontaneity. To get the job done, I’ll need to sense what’s needed in each moment, and do that.
 
I get to embrace downtime and not worry when I don’t feel called to create. That huge monkey about “staying motivated” isn’t on my back.
 
A new monkey replaces it, one about courage and fear. Pushing my own edges, doing what feels scary, venturing into the unknown becomes daily work.
 
I know I’m in partnership with a creative process that I’m not in control of. It’s not my problem if things don’t go as planned, because the plan was just my little set of expectations and desires. What could be more trivial than that?
 
I’m the artist, not the director of the show. I trust. I get to be carried along in the waves of what is and what is meant to be.
 
I’m relaxed, in the deepest sense of the word. I’m relaxed in the way a honest chat with a dear old friend makes you feel, the way you feel when you remember that it’s all going to be okay and that it’s all already okay.
 
From there, creativity happens. Real productivity happens.
 
What’s in the background isn’t a sense of needing to fix, stressing or rushing. The background is a music of gratitude, sweetness, rightness.
 
Being a goal artist. It’s my new tune. Visit your own studio and give it a try.

I want to know a little bit about who you are. What you do for work. How old(ish) you are. Why you read Wise LIving.
 
I want to know all of this so I can serve you better, understand who I’m talkin’ to and why.
 
In that spirit, would you take 5 minutes to click here and fill out this short, 10-question survey? I super appreciate you taking the time to do this.
 
Warmly,
 
Tara

Hi there,
 
Writing with a quick update on two recent articles I have around the web.
 
1. “5 Steps to Transforming Your B+ Life” at Huffington Post. This (the B+ life) is one of my favorite topics – personal to me and something that resonates with everyone I talk to about it. You may have read this article before at Wise Living Blog (then titled “Living and Leaving the B+ Life). If not, or to read the updated version, visit Huff Post and check it out there. Please share and RT too!
 
2. At Forbes, “To MBA or not to MBA?,” an article I wrote in response to a reader’s question about whether I felt my MBA was worth it. You’ll get my honest pros and cons assessment about the experience and a few good laughs too. (There was a lot that was absurd and hilarious about me in the MBA environment, as you might imagine). I think the pros and cons are relevant for people considering all types of grad school, not just business school. There’s a special emphasis in the article on women – but lots relevant to men too.
 
Enjoy!
 
Warmly,
 
Tara

How to create a childhood worthy of the sacredness of the child
 
How to forgive ourselves, entirely
 
How to love without projection or dependence
 
How to honor the strength of love alongside the strength of might
 
How much we are held, blessed
 
What we would create, if we believed we could.
 
 
We’re still young, still in an early era.
 
The status quo is just a middle chapter.
 
Have compassion for this fools’ world of ours
 
and don’t be afraid to be the one to help us turn the page.
 

I wrote a long post about belonging and loneliness – about our desire to belong and how it shows up in healthy and unhealthy ways.
 
I like you so, I’m sparing you. The writing went circles. It was stilted, messy, in conflict with itself.
 
But at the end of my long struggle with the topic, at the end of all that going round and round, out of the blue came an idea that I think is right.
 
It’s this: That feeling of being alone, separate, is an illusion. We all belong – deeply, inextricably. To the human family. To the planet. To life itself. We are each one knot in a tightly stitched fabric, one cell in a body.
 
A cell that thinks it does not belong to the body? A tapestry thread sure it is a single strand hanging in space? That’s about illusion.
 
It’s an illusion I fall into often. We all do.
 
When we believe we lack connection, we start thinking we need to get or make connection. We set off with that feeling of incompleteness to make new friends, reach out over email, talk to the gal at yoga class, show up a the brunch – all that stuff. We think the default state is separation, and we have to make or acquire connection through effort, being likable.
 
My experience is that doing that doesn’t feel very good – it feels like striving, like climbing uphill. It feels needy and it is – it comes from a place of feeling like I need something I’m missing.
 
The alternative is this: knowing you already belong. That you not only have connection but that you are connection. From there you go out into the world to express the connection that is, not to find or create it. What a difference.
 
You still make new friends and talk to the gal at yoga and join the book group – but not to fill a lack. You do it to live what already is. To play the music that you are, which is a music of connectedness. To do what is it is your nature to do, just like the bee gathers pollen and the bird builds a nest.
 
We need to rename and reconceptualize loneliness – because it’s not the sadness that comes from being isolated. It’s the pain that comes from not living the connectedness we already are.
 
This sounds lofty, but it is practical. The next time you are feeling lonely, separate, alone, like you don’t belong, first connect to your fundamental belonging. Remember your connectedness to the human family, to all of life, in -through music, in nature, or just by bringing this idea to mind – whatever works for you. Then, go out into the world with the intention to express connection, not to seek it.
 
There is nothing to seek because nothing is lacking. There is no connection to seek because you already are deeply connected to everyone and everything. There is only the longing to live a life that expresses that connection.

Feel the difference?
 
Love,
 
Tara

Y’all know I’m a big believer in downtime. There are only about 100,000 benefits to it. In our productivity-, optimization-, doing-obsessed culture, there are too few voices speaking up for downtime.
 
One of the big benefits of downtime is the processing of our lives that happens during that time. Processing is the magical activity required to keep you the kind, optimistic, emotionally generous person you want to be.
 
I’m writing about the what, why and (most important) how of processing your life here, at Charlie Gilkey’s blog, Productive Flourishing. Processing sounds big and vague and 1980′s pop-psychology-esque, but hopefully this post will make it feel practical, doable, and non-hokey-woo-woo.
 
Please come visit over there, and if you like, and share your thoughts.
 
Oh, and one more thing. If you are a mom or love a mom, check out my recent Huff Post article “Mommy Guilt or Mommy Wisdom?” about how to recognize and deal with that destructive voice of mommy guilt.
 
Love,
 
Tara

I don’t know why the thought occurred to me, but it did. It showed up suddenly, fully formed, like a telegram delivered.
 
I was sitting in my office at home, feeling disappointed about something that hadn’t worked out the way I’d hoped.
 
And suddenly popped up the thought: “Instead of thinking about your disappointment, Tara, think about everyone’s disappointment, every human being that has experienced or is now experiencing disappointment. That ache in your chest? Feel it as it exists all over the world, that very ache in so many chests.”
 
I thought this sounded like a good idea, so I did. It helped. It was better. I thought about all the people in the world feeling disappointed. The kids and the adults and the people in cities and the people in villages and the people in places I couldn’t image. I felt for them. I related to them.
 
Suddenly my upset wasn’t all about me – what had happened in my day and what it meant about me and what I would do next and all that. It was about being human, about disappointment as part of the human experience, about all the other pain on the planet, and oddly, the comfort of connection to other human beings in that pain.
 
I could feel two different movements in this that made it helpful. One was getting out of one’s self, one’s ego, one’s personal story, because getting caught up in our egos and stories always takes us down the path to greater suffering. The other was about compassion. The instruction was: use the pain you are having at this very moment to cultivate compassion. To cultivate connection. To realize your belonging. To know your basic humanness.
 
Will you try it? Next time you are in fear or rage or rejection or failure or insecurity or frustration, bring into your heart and mind all the other people, planet-wide, feeling just that thing. Be with yourself by being with all of them. Be with the self that is connected to all of them. Be with the emotion itself, the energy of it, the sensibility of it, rather than with your personal story’s intersection with it.
 
Something tender and expansive and healing occurs.
 
Love,
 
Tara

Two goodies for you: 

• At Mamamorphosis, coach Amy Kessel’s great site for moms, she and I chat about my 10 Rules for Brilliant Women – and their particular resonance for mothers. If you are a mom or love a mom, check it out.
• My latest article at Huffington Post, 5 Ways to Slay Your Fears. I believe we all need a variety of tools that help us quiet and manage the irrational and unhelpful fears that hold us back. In this article, I describe five of my favorite ways to deal with fears – those that have been most powerful in my own life and in the lives of my clients. Happy slaying!

Love,

Tara