Escaping Mediocrity

I don’t care what anybody says, criticism sucks. And it especially sucks when you’ve poured your heart and soul into something, pushed it tenderly out into the world and BAM! some mean nasty says something unkind about it. (Unkind meaning anything other than raving praise of course.)

But, unless you want to live safely under a rock, the business of being unmediocre will absolutely include criticism. So the question is what to do with it when it shows up.

I’m not a big fan of the FancyPants Gurus standard, one-size-fits-all response of “People criticize me because they are jealous.” Some people may be jealous and some people may criticize because of it. But to say ALL criticism is driven by jealousy is sophomoric.  It implies that the FancyPants Gurus should never be called into question. Yeah. Not real comfortable with that.

Another option is to take all criticism personally and to the heart. This is another blanket, one-size-fits-all response that assumes all criticism is created equal and that all critics are somehow superior. It implies that EVERYONE who has anything to say about your work is smarter than you are. Responses that include words like ALL and EVERYONE are usually a tad extreme. Not comfortable with that either.

I think one of the reason we opt for these kind of extreme responses is that it’s easier. If either everyone is right or no one is right, then we don’t have to go to the trouble of actually assessing the criticism to see whether it is valid or complete horse shit. That takes work. and discernment. and willingness. And who’s got time for that?

I’ve learned that if I want to get better at what I do, I’ve got to have time for that.

In case it’s helpful, I thought I’d give you a brief outline of how I (mostly) handle criticism when it gets lobbed my way. (Oh – and it does. Recently, someone on a blog said that I have unresolved child/parent issues which drive me to question authority all the time. Good times.)

Sarah’s Highly Mature  Method For Handling Criticism

1. Criticism arrives. Again, remember that my definition of criticism is anything other than effusive praise.

2. I work myself into a perfect storm and will tell anyone who will listen how horrible, terrible and generally unpopular the critic is. Mercifully, this length of this phase has shortened considerably in recent years.

3. I go for a walk. The first half of the walk is a continued rant in my head about the injustice of the criticism and perhaps the tiniest bit of revenge plotting. Somewhere around the halfway point, I weary of this. I know it comes as a shock but I do get tired of listening to myself after a while.

4. The second half of my walk usually involves looking sort of sideways at the criticism. Not full on – can’t handle that – more like looking at it out of the corner of my eye. Hmmm…..

5. Then I, ever so gingerly, consider the source of the criticism. Is this someone who, up until ten minutes ago, I adored, respected or at least holds the respect of people I like? Or is this someone whose opinion never mattered a hill of beans to me up until ten minutes ago? Or is it some unknown person (these are the worst because I give them all kinds of super-powers in my head). The source has a great deal to do with accuracy. Though I’ve learned that the source doesn’t have everything to do with accuracy.

6. As soon as I feel strong enough and way less defensive – sometimes minutes, sometimes weeks – I pull out the criticism. Upon review, I might learn that it isn’t really criticism at all. Just a really helpful suggestion. Or I might find that the criticism is accurate. I did misstep. I did make a mistake. I did do something (gasp) badly. Or I find that the criticism is small and petty. Here’s a secret  I’ve learned though – if my knee jerk reaction is to write it off as small and petty, chances are there’s some truthful gem in there that I’d just as soon not examine. Icky. But true.

7. I smoke the peace pipe with the criticism, in whatever form that might take. I say thank you for the suggestion. I clean up if I made a mess. I feel pity for the small, petty person.

8. I move on.

In case you are wondering, this is not a linear list. I go backwards and forwards through it until I finally arrive at #8. Sometimes this process is done in an hour. Sometimes this process is done in months. I try not to rush it and I try not to dwell on it. Mostly, I try to learn whatever it is this pighead is supposed to learn to make what I do better.

So there you go. That’s how I deal with criticism. Would love to hear what you do with it.

I am on my annual Thanksgiving vacation to Cumberland Island, GA with my family. Tomorrow, we will hunt sharks teeth – one of my favorite expeditions on the island. The post below was written two years ago shortly after I taught my older son how to hunt. I hope you enjoy it. 

Hunting for Treasure

This afternoon I am teaching my son the fine art of hunting for shark’s teeth.  It’s a challenging pastime, to say the least, but as absorbing and all consuming as any good hobby should be.

Our hunting grounds are off the coast of Georgia where, ages ago, dredge from the bottom of a river was dumped during the construction of the Inter-Coastal Waterway. I’ve found teeth as small as a grain of rice and as big as my hand when hunting here. Most important, the teeth are plentiful which makes for an excellent classroom.

First, I show my son the unique “T” or “Y” shapes of most teeth. Then we review the particular shades and combinations of black and gray that are found only in these fossils.

The final part of our lesson is slightly more nuanced – especially for a seven year old. Holding a picture of the shape and color of a shark’s tooth firmly in our minds, we must start scanning the shoreline, filtering out anything that does not match our mental image.

This is especially tricky because the beach is littered with Grand Imposters – bits of black shell in the coveted “Y” shape or a smooth gray stone half buried in the sand. They appear to be the treasure we seek, but upon closer examination, they are nothing more than fool’s gold.

I think the reason I love hunting shark’s teeth is that it requires so much of me. All of my focus and attention must be laser sharp – there is no room for distraction. I must be fully present and in the moment – seeing only what is right in front of me. Anything less and my treasure will elude me.

My son’s attention span is short and the bright sunlight has given way to long gray shadows, making it difficult to spot our quarry.

Tomorrow, as long as the tides and weather cooperate, we will try again. My hope is that with practice, he will learn to overlook the Grand Imposters and train his eye on the particular prize he seeks. I tell him that if he can learn to do that, one day he will look down to see his treasure lying at his feet. He will simply reach down and take hold of it.

He smiles and takes my hand.

From time to time I get chastised by so-called social media superstars for the fact that I am, at times, grumpy, moody, direct, and simply “not positive”.

“Turn that frown upside down!” People only want to hear positive encouragement on social media.” “To be a leader, you need to stop with all the negativity.”

I call bullshit.

I will never, ever be Pollyanna Positive and I don’t believe that’s all people are craving. Here’s the story of why.

I spent the first thirty years of my life quelling thoughts and feelings that were considered “inappropriate”. I pursued appearing to be the “right, acceptable” person in hopes that it would make my life go the way I wanted it to go.  I pretended none of the other stuff existed.

And, to be fair, it worked for a little while. I was a successful student, considered a leader, made Phi Beta Kappa, Omicron Delta Kappa and Mortar Board. Went on to successful jobs in the business world where I was touted as an Up and Comer most of the time.

But while all this was going on in the public eye, some dark nasty was happening behind closed doors. I battled depression and anxiety, my personal life imploded, and I was truly deeply miserable. It was more awful than I can put into words, so I’m not going to try.

During my desperate attempt to crawl out the deep, dark hole I’d dug for myself , A discovery was laid before in something I can only describe as miraculous. A wise wise person looked me in the eye and said “Human beings were given a complex range of emotions unlike any other creature on earth. And if we don’t use them, exercise them, give them fresh air and sunshine, they start eating at us like cancer.  And creating diseases just as deadly.”

This wise person went on to say that if I did not find a way to express my full range of human-ness, I would very like die. And not metaphorically.

A wake up call if there ever was one.

So I’ve spent the last 16 odd years learning how to live full self-expressed. Does it come with a price? Sure it does. Sometimes I say or do the wrong thing. Sometimes I make a mess I have to clean up. Sometimes I could keep my thoughts a bit more private. Sometimes I over-indulge in my negative emotions and wind up with a hangover. Sometimes people I really really like get angry. Sometimes people I really really like walk away.

But when I weigh this price against squelching who I am to the point of being a shard of a person, I’ll gladly pay whatever is asked.

And here’s the thing: in this obnoxiously loud online world where everyone is basically trying to say “Hey! Look at me and all my awesomeness!!”, I think people crave permission to exhale. To just be. To express whatever it is they need to express – positive, negative, whatever.

This is the gateway to living fully self-expressed. Which is what I want for you with every fiber of my being.

So I wave my magic wand and say “Permission granted! Go be the fully self-expressed human that you are!”

And if you are in search of Pollyanna Positive, she doesn’t live here.

Self-Reliance by Ralph Waldo Emerson has always been one of my favorite books. (My Mother The English Teacher quoted it to me even when I was little.)

One of my old copies has more underlined sections than not-underlined sections. Ralph has such a way to capturing the voice and thoughts of those who are desperate to break from the rabble and make their own way in the world.

I’m going to share a few of my favorite lines in just a sec, but I have something awesome to share with you. You can get your hands on a free Kindle edition (that can be read on any mac or pc) today and tomorrow (Tuesday, May 25 and Wednesday, May 26) through The Domino Project and compliments of IBEX, a very cool outdoor wear company.

Don’t miss this chance to own this amazing guidebook to Escaping Mediocrity. You can get all the details and links here: http://bit.ly/j7CKSg

To give you a taste of what you will find among the 73 short pages, here are some of my favorite quotes:

There is a time in every man’s education when he arrives at the conviction tha envy is ignorance; that imitation is suicide.

What I must do is all that concerns me, not what the people think.  This rule, equally arduous in actual and in intellectual life, may serve for the whole distinction between greatness and meanness.

…truly it demands something godlike in him who has cast off the common motives of humanity, and has ventured to trust himself as taskmaster.

When you get the book or if you already have it, I would love it if you shared you favorite quote in the comments.

Oh – and be sure to pass the link for the free download along to your friends!

Sorry – if your purpose for building relationships is based on making lots of money, this post isn’t going to help you do that. Sadly, though, I see lots of experts, gurus, ninjas or whatever who teach that sort of thing. I’m sure if you google it you will find lots of people willing to take you down that path.

I’m not one of them.

See, every time I do a month-long guest blog series like 28 Days to Getting Your Sh*t Together, or pull off an incredible live event when everyone says “live events are dead”, people ask me how I managed to be friends with the kind of people who help me make those things happen.

Here’s the news flash: there isn’t a magic formula to it. There isn’t a system you can memorize. And relationships like the ones I am lucky enough to have don’t happen overnight.

I’m going to give you the secret to them, though, right here and right now: Help others.

Yep. That’s it.

So that you can get this super secret sauce working right now, here are some steps to get you started:

1) Identify a handful of people you would like to know better on twitter and/or Facebook.

2) Take the time to read what they are up to. Tweets, Facebook posts and blog posts will help you get to know them and what is important to them.

3) Help them spread their message. Re-tweets, Facebook likes and shares, etc. make this pretty simple. This is also a great way to engage in an actual conversation with someone.

4) Comment on their blog. These days, getting a comment on a blog post is really a challenge. By commenting, you help the author and it can also open the door to a conversation.

5) Repeat steps 1-4. Often. But not in a creepy stalker kind of way.

Do these steps enough and the people on your list will begin to engage with you. Unless they have no social skills or think they are all that and a bag of chips. In either case, I recommend dropping them like a hot potato.

One last word of advice: until you’ve built a solid relationship with someone, do NOT ask them to help you, promote you, support you or anything else. It’s like proposing too early in a dating relationship – ICK.

So there you have it: my super-secret formula to relationships. And if you make a gajillion dollars from what I just taught you, I fully expect a percentage.

What do you think are important keys to building successful online professional relationships?

My friend John A. wrote this. He often sends out stories like this.  He has a wonderful point of view on life in the very small, very southern town we both grew up in. I’ve known John A. all my life. (And I call him “John A.”) In fact, I’ve known everyone in this story all my life.

Miss Rowland taught me how to sew when I was a little girl. She also taught me Bible verses in Spanish. I’ve known John A’s older brother Tom since forever. The Chief of Police “Simp” was good friends with my daddy til the day my daddy died. Lori still helps me with my banking. And Aunt Connie and Uncle Knud have known me and loved me since before I arrived on this earth.

So I want to share this story with you because I think it is so wonderfully told. I also want to give you a glimpse at the place “from whence I came”. This is the world that birthed me. These are the people who shaped my young life.

And I wouldn’t trade any of them for anything.

And so……

Looking After Helen, A Christmas Story

Helen Rowland would have been 93 last week. I think about Helen, sometimes.  When I pass her house on Bruner Avenue I think about her. I think about Helen a lot in December.  I probably wouldn’t give her a second thought if we hadn’t found Helen dead in her house, two Decembers ago.

I got a phone call at my office, late afternoon on December 2, 2008. It was Police Chief Simpson.
“John, this is Simp”,He said. “Don’t some of your people look after Miss Helen Rowland?”
“That would be my Aunt Connie and Uncle Knud, Chief. They look after Miss Helen, and so does Lorie at the Bank, and few others.”
“Well, Lorie and me are down here at her house. She won’t answer the door. You think one of ya’ll could come down here and see if she’ll answer?”, Chief Simp asked.
“I guess so, I’ll try to get a hold of my Aunt, too. Helen might have gone off somewhere, Chief, or she might not want to answer her door. She does that, you know.” I replied.
I called my Aunt and left a message. My brother, Tom, and I drove to Helen’s house.

Helen lived in Evergreen most of her life. She was college educated, creative, and articulate. She could play the guitar and violin. Early photos show that she was a very attractive young woman. She lived with her parents until they died.  There was talk of a man, and a relationship that went wrong, and her attempted suicide.

Circumstances, or maybe something organic, had made Helen crazy. She was not dangerous crazy, but she was unpredictable. There were periods of paranoia, and Helen was an obsessive hoarder. She collected mountains of junk from which to make things.  Her white hair, even as an old woman,  was worn in a 1940s ”Veronica Lake victory roll” style. She dressed in blouses and long dresses she sewed. In warm weather she wore sandals fashioned out of clorox bottles and pipe cleaners. Helen had a bed, but slept on an old door set between two chairs.

Helen would disappear from Evergreen for periods. Her trips, and odd appearance made some call her “Gypsy”. Children called her “The Turtle Lady”. Helen would catch box turtles.  She’d sewed costumes and created characters for the turtles. She entertained children, and adults, with little turtle tableaus.  Helen did errands on her bicycle, with her long dress, long white hair, and a straw hat. Some people called Miss Helen “The Bicycle Lady”.

Helen grew crazier as she got older. There were only a few people whom she would allow to look after her. Whatever her rationale, she was good at picking her close friends. She trusted Lorie, who works at the Bank of Evergreen, to help her with money matters.  Lorie, and her husband, Mike, lived close. They would check on Helen every few days.

Helen loved my Aunt Connie and Uncle Knud. Connie and Knud, in their late eighties, are substantive, genteel, and dignified people.  Their involvement with a difficult, mentally ill old woman might seem incongruous.  Yet, they spent time with her, bought things she needed, and even drove her to neighboring towns to buy used guitars and violins. My Uncle, to cheer Helen, once pretended to play a ukulele while  she played violin and sang.

Helen could be difficult. She got mad at Connie and Knud for buying her a small, much needed refrigerator. It was black. She wanted a white one. They had it painted white so she would use it. They tried to get Helen to eat better. The last few years of her life she consumed mostly Hershey bars and milk.   It would have been easier leave Helen to social workers. Connie, Knud, Lorie, and few others maintained their involvement with Helen for many years.

Tom and I pulled up to Helens house.  The  tiny stucco cottage was about  25 feet by 20 feet. Chief Simpson and Lorie were already there. Tom and I weren’t sure why we were there, except  as proxies for our Aunt and Uncle. Tom and I knocked and yelled through the door for Helen. She didn’t answer for us, either. We were afraid to kick the door in, in case Helen was simply refusing to come out.

Aunt Connie arrived about rabbit dark. She called out to Helen. There was no reply. Aunt Connie said she had a bad feeling. She told us we needed to try to go in through a window.

I had a crowbar. The Chief and I  pried open her side window.  We stuck our heads through the window to call out to Helen. We knew instantly, from the odor, that Helen was inside, somewhere, dead. The Chief went through the window, found Helen’s body, and yelled for somebody to call the coroner and the funeral home. Chief Simp unlocked Helens door and came out. He said she’d been dead a couple of days. “Her fists and arms are all drawed up tight on her, like maybe she had a heart attack”, He said. All we could see was the corridor between giant stacks of debris she’d collected over the years. Past the entrance was blackness.

We all got quiet. Nobody knew what to say. Lorie started crying.  Connie put her arms around Lorie and said,” you cry all you need to, Lorie. Its sad. You cry for me some,too.  At my age the tears don’t come as easily as they used to”.

The contents of Helens home and back house would fill 9 dumpsters. It yielded dozens of new bibles, still in their shipping boxes, old bibles with each reading carefully dated, newspapers dating back 40 years, and tons of junk. There were several thousand dollars stuffed into nooks and crannies, and decades  of Helen’s obsessive daily journals written in shorthand. Only a few things were salvaged, or given away. The rest, including her journals, got buried in a dump.  The old houses are still there, and the metal sign that says “Rowland”. Somebody will buy the lot and push down Helen’s house.

Helen was buried next to her parents.  The preacher who performed the service had never met Helen.

About a dozen people showed up. Included were a couple of neighbors, a nephew from far away, and Helen’s friends that looked after her.

Most of the physical evidence of Helen’s existence is gone, or will be, soon. What remains are some remnants of a true goodness a few people quietly gave to a lonely, difficult, crazy old woman. The remnants can be saved, and put together to make something….

Merry Christmas, J.A.N.
December 12, 2010

Where to we go from here?

In talking about vulnerability, strength and courage, I am also reminded that there is SO MUCH B.S. out there that it is really hard to remember who we are.

In this online world I move in, I’ve watched terrible things happen in recent months:

- A well-known “expert” pretty much pirated one of my BFFs material and claimed it as original thought. And people bought the lie.

- Another well-know expert bought about a gajillion followers (yes, they are for sale) and then staked a claim as a “Dominant Social Media Presence.” And people bought the lie.

- Had my own material picked off by someone claiming to be a wise friend and counselor. And people bought the lie.

It truly shakes the foundation of my courage some days to know that the ethics and the integrity of the world I operate in can be so temporal.

But then – OH BUT THEN:

- A dear friend sends me an email that tells me not to stop. That I am making a difference.

- Someone I admire from afar shows up on my blog and says that I inspire her.

- The people I dearly love, and would never have known without this crazy online world I live in, send me DMs, texts and FB messages that make me laugh so hard I cry.

- My colleagues-who-are-dear-friends keep going, keep producing inspired work, keep lifting my eyes to see what is possible.

- The Escaping Mediocrity Tribe out and out tells me that they want and need to hear what I have to say about what it is really like to do what I do.(Well – actually, some people unsubscribe because they don’t want and need to hear it, but that is okay. I’m not meant to reach everyone.)

In the end, the beauty far outweighs the bullshit.

There is a reason I am walking this path. There is a reason I say things out loud. I am holding up a lamp in the dark and lighting part of the path for others so they can find their way. I no longer have energy for anything else.

Shortly (as in a few days), I will be sending out a quick survey to those who are subscribed to my newsletter so that I will know how best to serve you in this way.

If you want to be a part of shaping what is to come, you can subscribe to Escape Notes here: http://bit.ly/EscapeNotes

I would be honored if you shared how you are keeping the faith in the comments.

A whole bunch of stuff collided over the past several days that will shape my future blog posts. And, if you think it’s all gonna be upbeat, it’s not. But it will be the truth.  A quality that seems to be in rare quantities these days.

As you probably know, I launched 5 Emergency Steps to Getting Unstuck on Friday. And in my pre-launch and launch emails, I talked about feeling scared and nervous. For me, I’m always “raising the stakes” I’m playing for and if something doesn’t make me feel scared and nervous, I question whether I should do it. And part of my commitment to you is, and always will be,  to tell you the truth about what it is like to do the things I do.

But I got pushback.

Apparently, saying that I am scared and nervous – admitting it out loud in front of God and everybody, is 1) a bad marketing practice 2) makes me appear un-coach-like and 3) is off-putting. (Oh and several people sent me “editorial suggestions” for my sales page.)

This is all really fascinating feedback considering the fact that last week’s blog posts were all about living a connected life and that vulnerability is at the very core of connection.

So here is my position: I will continue to be vulnerable. I will continue to raise my stakes. I find that by doing so, I actually feel stronger and more courageous the next time around. It’s like exercise that way I guess. The more you exercise a muscle, the stronger it gets and the more it can do.

If living and working this way means that I am not cut out to be a coach, that’s fine with me. I’ll find another way to make a living. There is nothing, NOTHING, that is worth giving up my want, my desire, my freedom and my ability to be and to say exactly where I am.

What do you think? Do you think coaches should always appear a certain way? Do coaches who admit fear and vulnerability attract less business than those who put on their public happy face?

This 20 minute video from Dr. Brene Brown is a MUST WATCH. Unless you have no interest in living a connected life.

I watched it once. Then watched it again with pen and paper. Trust me, you are going to want to make notes. And please don’t “save this for later”. Later never comes.

Would love to hear your responses and thoughts about her research.

Because my house, and mostly my life, is populated with those who possess the characteristics of ADD/ADHD (myself included), I’ve been reading up on the subject a bit. My latest book is Delivered from Distraction by Edward M. Hallowell.

It is an awesome book and I HIGHLY recommend it for anyone who thinks they might suffer from a bit of ADD.

Lat night, though, I dove into a chapter that I found so relevant, so bright and inspiring that I just have to share it with you.

According to Dr. Hallowell, living a connected life is the secret to making life healthier and more joyful. Don’t know about you, but I want all of that I can get.

Here are the 12 elements of a connected life he puts forward for our consideration:

1. Family. This is the core connection. Without a connection here, there can’t be real connection elsewhere. I do like this note of his: “If you have conflict in your family, that means it is connected. The opposite of connection is not conflict; it is indifference.”

2. Friend & community. Without meaningful relationship, our chances for experiencing a joyful life are not very high.

3. School or work. If we feel welcomed and treated with respect in these arenas, and have one or two friends, we will thrive better and if we don’t.

4. Activities. by finding & engaging in a few activities (ie NOT work) that we really love, it increases our chances of building joy, confidence, and self-esteem exponentially.

5.  The arts. Engaging with music, painting, literature, movies, dance, theatre, etc. can great a connection with deep inner. joy

6. Groups, teams, organizations. Belonging to a group of some kind with a purpose outside ourselves give us a personal sense of purpose and a feeling of being needed.

7. Pets. Pets develop our sense of empathy, love and understanding – and being understood.

8. Nature. Being connected with nature feeds us strength, joy and inspiration – and gives us a wonderful playground.

9. Ideas and information. Dr. Hallowell says that this is about feeling comfortably connected in the world of ideas and information. Fear and shame are the great underminers here. There should be no fear or shame in any learning environment. Period.

10. The spiritual world. Acknowledging and connecting with whatever we believe is beyond ourselves.

11. The past. Our heritage, our traditions, the stories of our ancestors give us a clearer understanding of how and why we are right here, right now – infusing every moment with deeper meaning.

12. Ourselves. Knowing and loving who we are exactly as we are feeds our connection with ourselves and allows us to move out into connecting with the world around us.

I know some of these are stating the obvious, but I’ve never seen them pulled together in this way in support of living a rich, deep life full of meaning, joy and purpose.

So that I don’t overwhelm myself, I’m going to print out this list, then slowly and effortlessly expand my capacities in each area. I’m guessing you will hear about my progress.

What say you? Do you agree with these 12 areas? Would you add any? Take away any? Are ideas leaping out at you for engaging in particular areas?

You know I am fascinated by your thoughts.