White Hot

how to make the most of being toast: embracing burnout

"AND THEN SHE CLEARLY UNDERSTOOD.
IF HE WAS FIRE,
SHE MUST BE WOOD."

- Joan of Arc, by Leonard Cohen
(the most gorgeous version
of which is sung by Jennifer Warnes)

I admit it: I'm burned out. Fried. Toasted.

But this time, there's something satisfying and tasty about being...roasted by the life I've chosen. I'm reveling in it. Rather than the usual "How'd I let this happen?, or, I'm weak, or, I should take better care of myself..." admonishments (from myself and others,) I'm curling up to my tenderized being and I'm really very pleased with the state of me.

I'm devoted to tending the fire of knowledge, to blazing my own trail. Burn out is a natural part of shining. Naturally. I welcome it now.

Because I'm such a Typically Tough Cookie, admitting to burn out is not my first inclination. My response to the creeping psyche crispies has been to put on more mascara and tighten my bra straps. But the evidence has been surfacing:

YOU KNOW YOU'RE BURNED OUT WHEN:

1. Your friend asks where you want to go for breakfast and you say, "Anywhere they serve mashed potatoes and chocolate cake."
2. You start to feel a whole new sympathy for Britney Spears' last breakdown because, "Poor thing, the pressure to be skinny, manage your millions, raise your babies, and remember your dance routine must be outfreakingrageous. Someone needs to nominate her for the Nobel."
3. When asked what famous historical figure you'd like to have dinner with, you choose Joan of Arc, "because I want to know if she was a nut-bar or truly vocationally inspired."
4. You start listening to inordinate amounts of music from high school (for me that would be The Cure) and Gregorian chants.
5. You wear a hat, sunglasses, and a scarf to the grocery store. You wish you could wear your Uggs to business meetings.
6. You generally feel like you're walking through the world minus a layer of epidermis and it's really windy outside.
7. You totally relate to this "Overnight Success" video from Chris Brogan.
8. When you hear some tragic news about brutality and violence, you want to collapse into a ball of sobbing guilt because, clearly, you're not doing enough to save the human race from it's mortal coil.
9. Your monastic fantasies are unceasing. You dream of living on an island only accessible by boat (but where, magically, FedEx and Pizza Hut still deliver.)

Yep, you done be fried.

RE-FRAMING BURN OUT INTO A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY:

1. You run long and hard, you get tired. That's a fact. Marathoners don't criticize themselves after a race for being exhausted. They rest.
2. Rest and excitement don't have to be mutually exclusive terms. You can have some down time and still bubble with the anticipation of getting back into the game.
3. My wonder goddess coach, Dyana Valentine puts it this way: "Your energetic vulnerability is helping you get clear on what you need." Damn, that's goood.
4. Take stock of all you've accomplished. You've come far, baby. And you've got the road rash and the muscle definition to prove it.
5. "Life balance" is an insidious myth. Picasso, Oprah, Steve Jobs, Einstein, Maria Callas - they weren't aiming for balance, they were aiming to rock their genius, and they've all had periods of burn out.
6. Cozy comfort hiding quiet time can make for some amazing new ideas.
7. On the seventh day, even God rested.
8. As the legend goes, when the Phoenix resurrects from the flames, she is even more beautiful than before.

I will start a fresh fire and jump back into it. I'm gathering kindling in between unpacking my suitcases and naps. I've got Bigger Than Ever Plans. And maybe six months or six years from now, I will be burned out, spent, deeply satiated and in need of cocoa and solace again. I'm looking forward to it.

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Send my note cards 'round the world...when you care enough to say it in black & white.

 

how to kiss up to your muse

The Muse of love, art, cash, strategy, worship, desire, wellness, beauty, business plans.

Don't you adore her? Do you...adore her? Actively? Adore.

Muses simply must be adored. They're as grandiose as they are generous. They like to be respected. If you meet them half way, they'll give you the moon, the breakthrough concept, the stroke of...genius. Dis' your muse and she's likely to stop dropping by. She's righteous. Genius is like that.

As Elizabeth Gilbert (Eat, Pray, Love) puts it in her freshly legendary TED Talk, we've made "a huge error in believing that creative genius comes from the Self," rather than a greater source outside of us. Can you hear the Muses saying, "Yeah baby. Got that right. You say it sister."

There are a zillion starry ideas floating in the milky way and they need you as much as you need them. Genius is looking for a vehicle. You gotta pimp your ride.

HOW TO DO RIGHT BY THE MUSE

1. Drop everything when she shows up.
In an interview with Neil Young, Charlie Rose asks Neil about following his muse. (You won't hear this in the clip below.)

Charlie: "So if you get an idea at say, a dinner party, if you hear a tune or a lyric, do you excuse yourself form the party?"
Neil: "Of course. You never know when she'll (The Muse) come again. I'm responsible to her."

When you feel an idea comin' on, excuse yourself. Pull over to the side of the road. Get lost in the creative flow. Be late. Barge in. (Eccentricity makes Muses especially horny.)

2. Have your tools ready.
Master-writer Anne Lamott, keeps 3×4 white note cards and pens in every purse and drawer and vehicle to capture thoughts that float out as quickly as they float in. If I leave home without my kraft Moleskine and blue medium point PaperMate pens, I feel discombobulated, like I might miss my train. Keep a notepad by your night stand. Leave yourself a voice mail. Don't assume that the best ideas will come back to you.

3. Go looking for her.
You know where she likes to party: the art gallery, by the lake, on your morning run, when the stereo is cranked and the lights are low, in the stillness of a church or forest, when you first wake up. Set the stage and chances are she'll take to it.

4. Engage her.
She's busy, for sure, but The Muse LOVES it when you actually play with her. When she drops an idea in your bucket you can ask her what the hell she's thinking. You can ask her what chapter should come next, or where to look for funding. She could yammer 'til dawn and before you know it, you've mapped out your magnum opus.

5. Do what she tells you to do.
Ignore your muse at your own peril. She doesn't always have it right, or maybe we don't always hear her clearly, but the more you heed her wisdom, the faster you get to drive on the Creative Awesomeness Highway. You and The Muse in the diamond lane. Godspeed.

Charlie Rose interviews Neil Young :

 

we know you’re busy. now shut up about it.

"So sorry, I've been busy."
"I'm just so busy with..."
"I've been too busy too..."

Busy? Get in line.

If I ever tell you that, “I’m so sorry that I've been too busy to...” then I'll pay $500 bucks to your favourite charity and get you a year supply of Haagen Dazs bars. Of course I'm busy. That's life. That's my life. That's most people's lives. Grown up humans tend to be...busy. Add kids, or business start ups, or illness into the mix and you have...much more of life to be busy about.

"I'm just so busy," is the typically gasping, rushed, whiny refrain that's become a contemporary anthem. It doesn't make us look more important, it makes us look just-this-side-of-frazzled. It's typically used as a lite apology, an excuse, a duck-out, as if your Life Master is making you do stuff that you don’t want to do. Even as a well-intended social pleasantry, "Sorry, I've been busy," has a little victim ring to it.

Whatever is on your plate got there because you said yes to it - in the fullness of ambition and desire and wanting to eat life whole. Sometimes we take on to-do's and commit to climb mountains because our soul demands it. Sometimes life throttles us with unforeseen and unrelenting demands. Sometimes busyness is the result of keeping up with the Joneses. Busy can be good. Busy can be bad. Busy is most often a choice.

The "busier than our predecessors...age of technology...workaholic culture," argument. I don't buy it. Yes, we appear to be more compulsive, less nuclear, and surviving on less sleep than the pioneers, but their lives were just as packed. They were extremely busy planting potatoes and raising barns, and surviving from sunup to sundown (they got more sleep than we average because, a) they didn't have the luxuries that light bulbs afford, and b) they did physically exhausting work.) The fifties housewife was just as busy. Before eco-evil but ever-so-handy tools like disposable diapers, the Swifer and microwaves, June Cleaver had to work it.

"Sorry, I've been busy," is often used to appease busy-bodies. - the kind of people who email you to double check if you got their email from yesterday, or their thank you note.

So what do you tell 'em when you're late? When you can't fit another moment into your daytimer, when you have to send regrets, or pass on a sweet opportunity? Tell them the truth. Report on life, rather than whining about it. Deliver it with ease or with pride if you're inclined. "Been in five cities in four weeks. The kid’s all had the flu. It's tax season, you know.” Let people meet you in your clear truth rather than your apologetic panic.

And sometimes, many times, you don't need to excuse yourself at all. Just show up. Present and accountable, full of life and it's demands. We all understand.

 

3 keys to un-branding…and why I changed my twitter name

{my ego implores me to note that this has been re-tweeted 70+ times...the tweet-app re-set to zero for some mysterious reason. I say this because, that's way cool!, and to make known that a lot of people identified with the sentiments of branding from the heart - and actually changed their twitter names! xo Danielle}

In my commitment to live bolder, truer, Me'er, I've got to be clear that I am not "a brand." (Yep, that's rather strange for a "branding expert" to say.) I earn my living by teaching about what I live. And it never fails that the more transparent I am, the more useful I seem to be.

It's tricky shit because I'm also deeply private. I ask more questions than I answer. I struggle with privacy issues and interruptions make me mental. Most of the time, I prefer to be invisible. And yet I'm very upfront about the fact that, vocationally speaking, I'll be thrilled to be a household name someday. I consider contradictions a hobby.

When your persona starts to wag your person, you've got trouble.

So with all that introvert-extrovert creative tension I have to keep my persona in check. And it occurred to me that ever so subtly, I might be setting myself up to hide behind my brand. That I might be creating products and images that hemmed me in in the future. And while good branding makes for good commerce, it can be a real drag for freeing your art.

When I changed my Twitter name last week from @whitehottruth to @daniellelaporte I got some questions. (If you tweet, twit, twitter, then you know that your twitter handle is a very big deal.) @stephendavis02 wanted to know if my name was taken before and just got freed up? @ealvarezgibson wondered if my account had been hijacked. When @chrisguillebeau asked what was up, I told him I just got out of the witness protection program.

Names are hugely important. And yeah baby, White Hot Truth is damn sexy. That's why I named my site that. But I’m not my site. Or my books. Or the stuff I make.

As Paula Cole puts it:

I am not the person who is singing
I am the silent one inside
I am not the one who laughs at people's jokes, I just pacify their egos.
I am not my house, my car, my songs
those are only stops along they way
I am like the winter
I'm a dark cold female
with a golden ring of wisdom in my cave.

Okay, that’s a bit dramatic. But so am I. Stay with me.

3 KEYS TO GENUINE BRANDING...or UN-BRANDING. YOUR CHOICE.

1. Keep it pointed to where you want it to go. What do you want to be known for next year, and for years after that? If Twyla Tharp were on Twitter I think she’d go by twylatharp, not “creativehabit.” @EckhartTolle tweets, and he's not “PowerOfNow". Think like a legend.

2. Live artfully. I couldn’t bare to lock myself into a “brand” that I felt restricted by. I’ve done that and it hurts. A lot. I want to live like as an artist and it's the "designer" kind of business model that works best for me. Donna Karan is "Donna Karan". That leaves her free to do cashmere, fragrances, and Urban Zen. Keep your essence at the helm and you can't go wrong.

3. Walk proud. Take deep breaths when you need to - it's not always easy being authentic. Within a day of changing my Twitter name I got all strange and unsettled about it. Zoinks. Was that a bad move? Are my re-tweets going to plummet? I emailed my assistant and asked her if I'd screw up anything by reversing it...then quickly emailed her back and told her to ignore me.

Learning to trust that you're enough, without a gimmick or a sidekick or a discount offering takes some faith and practice.

If you’re selling widgets or scaling a company that you want to sell off someday, then packaging is paramount. If you're selling your soul - in the best possible way, remember that a little theatre goes a long way, but you still need to show up on stage as the real you. And when you do, applause will follow.

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calling all crazy paper people! cool new stationery line.

 

guilty desires unite

I think that the better part of mortal coil is snarled in reckoning with how we desire to feel, and what we can't bear to feel. Knowing how you want to feel is half the journey to liberation. But a funny thing often happens on the way to clarity. We get clear on how we want to feel, and then we muck it all up with self judgment. A story...

I was jamming with a client whom I adore. She's kind-hearted, she's willing to look at her shit and her gloriousness, and she's excellent at what she does. And, as it tends to happen, I slid in one of my favourite backwards burning questions:

"So in terms of 'success' how do you want to feel like?" I asked.

"I...I want to feel important," she admitted. And then it came, the back-paddle, squashing of desire: "But is it wrong to want to feel that way? Shouldn't I want to feel something else?"

Freeze frame. Is it wrong to want to feel a certain way? Why would it be wrong? Who says? What would happen if you let yourself feel a certain way? How about starting with being okay with wanting to feel a certain way and seeing where that leads you? Back to the convo:

"Is it wrong to want to feel important?" I echoed back to her. "Well maybe some therapists would think so. Could be your wounded inner child 'n all that, but let's work from here and now. In terms of your business, what would make you feel important?"

"Celebrity X would be photographed in my product. And the editor at that big magazine would decide to put me on the cover for the next issue. I'd be front and center at the gala. And my cheap clients would stop pestering me for cheaper product, and I would be working with the people who really value what I do." She was on a roll. Her voice was clear. I imagined she was sitting up straight.

"Uh huh. Well, that sounds like a rocking business to me. So, what do you need to do to help ensure that you feel important?" And with that, a very concise to-do list rolled off her tongue and the future looked brrrilliant.

"You know, just talking about what I'm going to do to make myself feel important makes me feel...important," she concluded. That's what happens when we take control of our desires. Moving toward gratitude helps you feels grateful. Aiming for power gets your power circuits firing. Planning for love makes you feel warm and fuzzy. And so it goes.

I used to have intense guilt for craving creative freedom - and then life forced me to go solo and I learned in one fell swoop that my guilty craving was a very divine calling - with all the rewards I was hankering for.

Enough with feeling guilty for wanting to feel the way you want to feel. Follow your desired emotion. Don't analyze it too deeply. Just let it roll and rumble a bit. It may be there to humble you, expand you, heal, surprise or reinvent you. Anywhere it leads, it's there for a divine reason.

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Calling paper lovers and cool communicators!: my new note card line rocks.

 

you’re not that important

This is Part One of a two part exercise. Repeat: this is not a philosophical declaration to carry around in your heart. Rather, it's a soul-teaser to wind through your bean and shake up some thought forms.

The world will go on if
: you don't show up at work.
: you don't post to your blog tomorrow.
: you cancel the meeting.
: you stay in bed all day.
: you don't sign the contract.
: you don't answer the phone.
: you don't check your email.
: you leave town.

CEO, #1, Captain, President, The Leader.
Who cares. It's just business, moving parts, day to day. You can be replaced.

Mother. Father. Teacher.
Aside from single parents caring for little ones, you're just not the only influence in your children's lives. They may not even want to stick around when they grow up. You may never be thanked. They will find their way with or without you.

Lover. Partner. So-called Significant Other.
Replaceable. And God knows, as a partner, you can certainly be improved upon.

You're one in a about six and half billion. A speck. A blink in the eye of God. A nano micro weeny zip in the eons of time and vastness of space. No one's happiness really depends on you - no one's. People can take care of themselves like they always have. It's most likely that one hundred years from now, nobody will so much as mention your name.

You're just passing through, and times flies.

Life will go on with or without you.

How does it feel to consider that?

Tune in tomorrow for Part Two.

 

wonder what their dream is

Our dreams and desires define us. Be they broken, scarcely remembered, on the verge of reality, or in full bloom. They pilot our choices. Dreams have the power to shape the entire landscape of our lives. Because they tend to be so precious and potent, many people keep their dreams and aspirations to themselves.

A dream is a very sacred thing to share.

If you knew someone's dream, you might look at that person very differently...with more tenderness, more respect, more familiarity, and more wonder than before. Dream-sharing melts boundaries and it calls forth resources and commonalities.

Look at everyone you meet this week and actively think to yourself, “I wonder what their dream is?” Ask at least one person this week what their dream is. You can do it subtly, and traditionally, like, “Where do you see yourself in five years?” or “What did you want to be when you were growing up?” Or you can just go for it, playfully and momentously and ask, “So, like, what’s your big dream?” So many people never get asked that. And fewer are really listened to. And for those who are stumped by the question, I guarantee they'll be thinking about it for days to come. Just the asking of that question sets essential things in motion.

The guy in the cubicle next to you may be working on novel about unicorns and espionage. Your sister might be fantasizing about her own cabaret break out performance. Your postal carrier may be patenting the next great invention. Make no assumptions about your partner, your workmate, or the bus driver.

Small, mighty, seemingly impossible, or simply pure ... when you know what someone’s dream is, your perspective leans toward openness. And every dream needs space to run.

Oh, my dream-stream... White Hot Truth The Fire Starter Sessions is a stunning success in every way possible, and I'm wearing suede boots and big gold hoops on stage and laughing "you-know-what-I'm sayin'-don'tchya?" laughs with thousands of people.

And I dream of Morocco and France and a koi pond in the back yard of my mod pre-fab house. Collecting art. Magazine coverage. I dream about communion with my man that blows both our minds. I dream of sitting 'round a fire with leaders and lovers of progress. Being able to give yeses and make phone calls that open doors and new dimensions for people.

I dream of children being taught mindfulness in school, and a movement of conscious birth choices and parenting, and technologies that heal. And I dream of invitations that humble me, and more magical connections with people who I recognize on a cellular level, and we band together to leverage change, and to support and care for each other in the way that reminds you how great it is to share space and time. And I dream of feeling more electric and sweet every single day.

But mostly, I dream of being amazed.

How 'bout you?

. . . . . . .

thought of the day: your innate perfection

11 slightly scary ways to become a better you

the “i don’t know” conspiracy

 

stifled sensations

I worked with a TV producer once who prided herself on being disciplined. “I get up every morning at 5am to run,” she told me over dinner. “I hate it, but it needs to be done.” And she went on to explain that for Lent, she gave up swearing and hadn’t cussed in four years, (“Even though it would feel sooo good to just say the F word sometimes!”) The following Lent, she swore off soda pop and hadn’t had so much as a sip for three years, (“Even though a Coke with these tacos would be grrreat!”)

“Well that sounds like a whole lotta of fucking fun.” I said to her. And I asked the waiter to bring me a Coke.

Here’s the thing: As hard-wired achievement-bots many of us subscribe to systems of success that actually become blockages to our instincts. Structures, programs, regimes, all disciplines and theories should be used to support your freedom and independent thinking, but many serve to stifle our truth.

Curiosity and sensation are exponentially more effective than obeying the rules.

 

for rage-babes, flakes and tyrants: get over it

We are the sum total of our experience. And undeniably, it is our past ... as well as our essential spirit - that informs our character, whether that past is recent or centuries gone by. The altered state a-ha’s I’ve had about possible past lives, the insights I've had on acid in my twenties (except for that one really paranoid trip where I couldn't talk for three hours,) and the wit from gifted therapists and wise girlfriends has helped me to explain the fears and flaws that I've been dragging with me for years.

It is essential to whole living that you get to the source of your pain and screwed up choices. What happened in your childhood or another life informs patterns in your current reality. But sooner or later, you’ve simply got to get over using yesterday to explain today’s behavior.

Decide to just get over it. Let it be that simple.

For most of us who had normally dysfunctional upbringings (I’m not talking about suffering exceptional atrocities or repetitive abuses,) our past is no excuse to continue being a flake, a tyrant, obnoxiously needy, or a rage-babe. Look, we’re all terrific for going to therapy, for having past life insights, and reading Wayne Dyer. Yeah for the New Age. Really. But knowing why you’re so screwed up is only half the journey.

“My father never told me I’m pretty, so now I’m fat.”
“I was a pilgrim burned at the stake in my past life so now I’m afraid to voice my opinions.” (more...)

 

the liberation of fred: keep your heart open and the wisdom will show up

I traveled a lot of miles and with a bag full of Big Questions to bring to the sanctuary of the Christ in The Desert Monastery. Me, in my well-abused rental car and straw hat, ready for a cosmic breakthrough, I wanted some divine answers, dammit. I hoped to hear something omniscient and awe-inspiring by the cemetery overlook, or to find an eagle feather on my canyon hike. Maybe a coyote or a monk would cross my path just when I asked my heart-bleeding question and that would be my Big Sign.

Instead, I met Fred, in the gift shop. "When you're ready to pay for your candles and books you can just do it yourself on that table over there." D-I-Y cashier style, there was a shoebox of cash and a stack of credit card slips ... how civilized, I thought. "Gotchya. Cha-ching," I answered to Fred. And his curiosity about what "cha-ching" meant started us talking, (remember, no TV in the monastery, no People Magazine...I was probably the biggest dose of pop culture they'd seen in them hills for a while.)

Fred was a fifty-something Hispanic guy originally from L.A. For eighteen years, he's lived at the monastery as the custodian. "Eighteen years?! And you don't feel the call to serve as a brother after all this time?" I asked. "No way. I serve by serving the brothers."
"Wow. Well, way to go for making such an intense choice," I said.
"Every day is a choice. Obligation...all those obligations...marriage, kids, the job...it's all bullshit if it's not a choice."
He just swore in the monastery, I thought.
Fred continued. I was rapt. I set down my Frankincense and leaned in. His eyes sparkled.
"Say more," I nudged.
"When I left my old life to come here I was so afraid."
"Afraid of what?" I asked.
"Everything. I woke up two or three nights a week in a sweat, just afraid of life, of my choices. I was terrified to, you know, just live."
"Terrified to live." I repeated, nodding my head.
"And then four and a half years into it, I woke up and I was free. You know, free. Instead of always seeing just fifty feet in front of me there was a vista - I could see forever ahead of me."

He slid his hand out to gesture to the expanse. I could see it. I could see his state of being and there was nothing impeding his delight. We both kind of giggled, nodding, communing.

"Fred," I said, "That's all I need to know. I thought I was coming for the monks. But you're The Dude."

"Why thank you then. I'm happy to be the dude for you today."

You know that the teacher appears when you're ready. Sometimes it's a pop tune, or an ad on the bus, sometimes it's the handy man. Keep your heart open and you'll recognize the wisdom when it shows up...wearing overalls and fedora.

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