The Happy Secret to Better Work

Check out this fantastic video my friend shared with me.

Enjoy!

-Katie

Instrumental Learning

A New Language

I'm finally doing something I always promised myself I'd do: 

I'm learning how to play piano.

I'd never taken any instrumental lessons in my life, only voice, and I thought it was about time I tried, even if I was in my 40's.

I suppose this later-in-life artistic self-expression has been passed down to me genetically. My paternal grandfather, "Paw Paw", as we grandkids called him, took up painting at age 80. He was a meat cutter and grocery store owner for several decades before he retired in 1970.

One of Paw Paw's first works

But one day, in between leisurely golf games and hanging out with my sweet grandmother, "Rita", in their tiny and inviting South Florida cottage, Paw Paw decided to give painting a go. And paint he did, converting their garage into a studio filled with easels, canvases, tubes of acrylic paints, brushes, and mixing trays. He even went so far as to fashion his own frames out of reclaimed wood, long before using reclaimed wood was über cool, mind you.

(Full disclosure: I'm positive he never once used the term, "reclaimed." His description was probably more along the lines of, "found", as in, "Hey look, Rita. I just found these ol' pieces of wood on the side of the road. I'll bet I can use them for a frame.")

Now dozens of Paw Paw's paintings- framed, mind you- are hanging in homes scattered all over the country, divvied up between his kids and grandkids. And yes, I did indeed say "dozens": he lived to be 97, and enjoyed 15 solid years of painting during his twilight years.

While my grandfather had no reservations about starting something 40 years past 40, I'll admit to possessing a pesky little naysaying voice. It likes to hang out on my shoulder when I sit down to play, whispering disparaging remarks such as:

"Music lessons are expensive. Shouldn't I only be paying for the kids to learn something new?"

or

Shouldn't I be working?

and

 How can this feel so satisfying? You know, like I'm accomplishing something? Accomplishments should, by definition, further my career, right?

 Chinoiserie detail on piano,
by Amanda de la Colina,
my maternal great grandmother,
who painted this piano well past her 40's.

Thankfully, the notes quickly drown out those pervasive "should's", leaving me completely engrossed in my own little musical world.

Playing an instrument, I've discovered, is an incredibly fun and constructive activity to incorporate into my days of working and parenting. For one, playing allows me to exercise my brain in an entirely different way than I'm accustomed to. Not only am I speaking a different language, that of notes and intervals and rhythms, I'm forcing myself to use each hand for a separate task.

Coordination of left and right brain hemispheres?

Oh. Yeah.

For those who don't play, allow me to explain: the left hand typically covers the bass clef and the right hand the treble clef- which means I have to simultaneously perform two different activities. (Kind of like patting your head with one hand and rubbing your stomach with the other.) However, thanks to muscle memory, the more I practice, the more my hands just "remember" and I find I'm more easily able to split focus between my right and left hands.

Apparently, I'm hardly imagining the mental stretching taking place. Many studies have shown the cognitive benefits of playing an instrument, from brain stimulation to specific motor control and coordination to positive effects on the aging brain. In fact, the analytical and emotional complexities of piano performance alone allow for the brain to efficiently challenge its plasticity, according to neuroscientists.

Ruth Silk, watercolor
My maternal grandmother painted the above at age 60 +

But countless studies aside, beginning a new instrument quite simply triggers a playful sense of letting go and being okay with making mistakes. And many mistakes doth I make, since I am, most assuredly, a beginner. And one of the ummm... let's just say, more mature students.

Before and after my lesson, young, Dr. Seuss-loving tykes skip in for their weekly lessons, swinging their little piano bags merrily behind them as they plop down on the piano bench- which, by the way, is scooted in all the way so their feet can graze the pedals. And thanks to a great teacher, many of them sound incredible, their nimble little fingers gliding along the keys with ease. And yes, listening to them feels a trifle humbling. But most of the time it feels good to be a beginner again, or, more specifically, to allow myself to be a beginner again; the hope of improvement stretched out before me in a vast, promising horizon. I look forward to the time when I will actually start to make beautiful music that sounds more, ummm... let's just say, accomplished.

Take time to take pictures.

What about you? When was the last time you invested time in yourself for the sole purpose of growing your mind and body? For the singular objective of enriching your mental, creative and/or physical well-being? Even if it means going back to being a beginner again?

And what if you were to go crazy and give yourself permission to monetarily invest in yourself?  Whether it be acquiring a new camera, booking a weekly yoga class, or taking yourself to the movies on Sunday afternoons, you will help to satisfy your mind's instinctive hunger for knowledge and expansion. (Dare I add that it may even feel revolutionary!)

If Paw Paw were still with me, I'm sure he'd agree. No fancy research required.

Racing Against Time?

Here in the frozen tundra, also known as Washington, D.C., it's been nice to have some indoor diversions. The 2014 Winter Olympics in Sochi have dutifully entertained our family over the past couple of weeks, especially when frigid temperatures and multiple snow days have made it difficult to find something to do besides go sledding, make snowmen and lament yet another day off of school.

(That would be my husband and I lamenting, not my children.)

One theme at the center of the Olympic games is time. Athletes are either racing against it or making the most of the precious competition period they've been allotted. It's this high-stakes, temporal element, along with unbelievable athleticism, that provides us onlookers with a thrilling experience.

But time is tricky when it comes to discovering your career. Fast answers aren't always the best answers. Yes, of course, you have to pay the bills, so deciding on a job can certainly be a time sensitive task. But, more often than not, people are actually too hasty in their career choices, in all stages of life.

Ambitious young high school students don't want to hesitate in their response to an adult's question of "So, Young Lady/Man, what are your career plans?" Therefore many come up with whatever career sounds the most exciting and admirable.

(I myself could've won multiple awards for the doozies I drummed up.)

Then there are the older kids, students attending expensive colleges, (wait- isn't that a bit redundant?) who race to declare a major lest they appear to be wasting their parents money. However, according to the abysmal stats on graduation rates, length of time in school and limited use of selected majors post-graduation, it appears that those declared majors might as well have been chosen during a rousing drinking game of Quarters.

Grown-ups continue the trend of hasty choices as well, making career decisions reflecting their own social pressures: the proverbial rat race. Many adults fall prey to keeping up with their colleagues, racing to the next level, even if they don't know why they want to get there in the first place.

You know the old saying, "I don't know where I'm goin' but I'm sure making good time?"  I consider that the official motto for the rat race. And when asked the question, "So, how's your job going?" few people dare to be honest and say, "Well, it's okay, but I feel as if I need to explore other options more in line with my abilities."

Even those embarking on retirement feel pressure to have a response to "So, what are you going to do with all of that time on your hands?" I'd wager that, at their retirement party, 10 out of 10 employees prefer to say, "Play golf" as opposed to "I'm going to work with a coach to do some interest and talent exploration."

Talk about a party buzz killer!

In other words, it's marvelously expeditious- if not expected- to make a career or life decision just so you can say you've made a decision. 

But it takes courage to take the time to wonder, especially out loud, what you need to do to satisfy your talents.

The solution, obviously, is not to slap a giant yellow "UNDECLARED" post-it note on your head, clap your hands and call it a life. Instead, it means having the guts to ask for help in creating a purposeful, thoughtful exploration of what you want- or need- to do with your time, abilities and interests.

Because unlike the Olympics, there is no race to the finish line. Acknowledge this by allowing yourself some guided reflection time. Take advantage of opportunities to assess your abilities, gather unbiased information from those who share your interests and ask yourself some pointed, educated questions.

And if your wondering about the payoff...

It's worth its weight in gold.


photo credits: via Creative Commons, wikimedia
speed skaters
pixabay 
frat party via Flickr
golf course
post-it note
gold medal

HELP! What if I Want to Do It All?

This is the question I get from so many people, but especially from students, who feel that focusing on one single path in life just isn't going to satisfy their hunger for a variety of interests.

But I always have an answer ready for them, which is: If I can settle on a career path I love, so can they.

I've always had so many interests that fascinate me with so little time to pursue them, and I still sometimes wonder why days couldn't be at least three hours longer. So how did I decide on a career path that could satisfy this hunger? Especially one that had a lot to sink my teeth into?

Here are the top five reasons why my career path (which, as you know, involves helping others build theirs) works for my varied interests:

1. Career coaching has loads of variety inherently built in.  My days and weeks vary quite a bit, dividing my time between writing and reading and coaching and speaking. Plus I get to work with fascinating people of all different ages, backgrounds, locations, interests... and career fields, of course. Believe it or not, I feel as if I'm satisfying the explorer in me by living vicariously through my clients.

2. It requires me to solve a variety of complex problems that are similar in nature but never the same. This gets to the heart of what my brain needs to feel stimulated: I need lots of problems to solve that involve people. And I'm good at it too, which is probably why I like it! Success makes everyone feel energized.

3. I decided that the best way for me to be able to experience multiple interests in life was to have my own service-oriented business.  This means that when I want to gradually shift my focus I can, without feeling as if I'm totally losing ground. If I had a manufacturing business, for example, my freedom would be a bit more restricted, as changes would mean wasting inventory.

Another entrepreneurial bonus? Having my own business allows me to quench my thirst for novelty, such that I can invent new ways to do things- and incorporate more interests- like writing, travel, research, photography, art, and whatever else piques my interest. Of course, I don't incorporate everything all the time, because I don't need to.  It's all about prioritizing my interests, rather than trying to do too much and creating a piece-meal, random mess of crisscrossing paths. Which leads me to the next point...

4. Finding an essence is key. I got to the essence of what I enjoyed most about my top interests. Once I looked at all of my seemingly disparate fascinations, I realized most of them centered around psychology, human behavior and personal stories.  Career choices, aptitudes and journeys inhabit the bulk of my work, so it's a perfect match for me. It's like penning a symphony titled, "Variations On a Theme."

5. Wants aren't needs. I realized that there are certain things I like to do and certain things I need to do. In fact, this discernment is key in prioritizing your interests. For example, I like to paint, but one painting project once or twice a year will pretty much do the trick. And singing is another passion of mine, which I really enjoy doing. Performing about once a week plus light rehearsing seems to be a good frequency; however, I found that doing it everyday, on a professional level, proved to be a bit much.

So as far as the needs are concerned: I need to read- a lot.  And reading human interest stories and career journeys (mostly found in biographies) is just something that I do for fun, whether I'm paid to read them or not.  I'm truly drawn to this type of information gathering. My other needs: to write, share ideas and to help people on a personal level. If I don't accomplish these things very regularly it's difficult for me to feel like I'm making a difference.

So you might be wondering, are there other career fields out there-entrepreneurial or not- that have variety built in?

The answer is a resounding "Yes!"

But...

All career paths require the person with multiple interests to think and plan creatively. Beyond finding-or creating- a single dynamic career path, satisfying a variety of interests entails carving out special time to do important activities that really don't need to be done every day, all day, on a professional level, but that still need a place in your life.

And that's okay, because your ideal career, no matter how varied, will never satisfy everything on your ever-evolving list of interests. But it can, if crafted with careful consideration, satisfy the fascinations you want to grow and develop the most.

Photo credit: Creative commons via Flickr

Peter Buffett On Success

A New Definition

"In my view, success should be defined with reference to the substance of a person’s achievement. What is someone actually accomplishing? Is she helping others? Is he living up to his own unique potential? Is there passion and originality in her approach to life and work? Is there fundamental value in what he’s trying to achieve?

I believe that true success comes from within. It is a function of who we are and what we do. It emerges from the mysterious chemistry of our abilities and passion and hard work and commitment. True success is something we earn privately and whose value we determine for ourselves. The outside world can reward us with money, but it cannot anoint us with this deeper and more personal kind of success. The success we define for ourselves is the treasure that cannot be tarnished or taken away."

-Peter Buffett 

composer,

musician, philanthropist and  

author of Life is What You Make It

For Mr. Buffett's full article click here.

How to Make a Difference in the World

Some great advice for those of us who don't want to sit back and watch the world stay the same.
-Katie
CHANGE YOUR WORLD

New Rules for Career Success

Rule #1: Figure out where you are headed!
Via Flickr

Dan Schawbel, Geny Y author of the newly released book, Promote Yourself: The New Rules for Career Success, offers some sound advice about how to advance your career in today's environment.

Frequent LinkedIn contributor, Dave Kerpen, asked Mr. Schawbel to distill his concepts to into six key "actionable ways to grow" a career, which I'm sharing with you below.

I especially like his first point, which is to "become an entrepreneur at work"; however, I'm offering a prequel to Schawbel's key points:

Figure out what career path is right for you, 

because if you don't do that, 

how will you know what kind of career to grow in the first place?

Makes sense, no?

Read his rules here.

Part III: "What to Do With MY Dreams" by Joseph Coram

I wanted to be a writer or a musician most of my life. My dream had a great deal of glory involved in it most of the time. I wanted to be a famous author who revolutionized the world of the written word; I wanted to be a famous musician who brought together the extremes of creativity and accessibility—I wanted to make music that the most artistic minds would respect and that the most unsophisticated sensibilities would really enjoy, whether or not they recognized how brilliant or creative it was. So what am I to do with those things?

That was the unspoken question with which I approached Katie, and in my time working with her, we came up with two solid answers—or, rather, two much better questions—and a lot of good ideas about how to bring them into reality. Briefly, when you have a dream: (1) find out what’s at its core; and (2) figure out what else you want. Dreams like mine are always both too much and too little to be of immediate use.

You have to really know yourself to know what you really dream for, and you have to know something about how the world works to see where a life following those dreams will land you, and that takes help from outside, from community, from ‘counselors’ in the broadest sense of the term.

What am I to do with those dreams?

Take the first one. What am I really after? I want to write, sure. That’s something I can do whether or not I make a living doing it. I want to change things with my writing. That’s doable, too. Revolutionizing anything may or may not happen—and, importantly, I have not given up that fantasy, and if you ask me on most days whether or not I think it’s going to happen, you will likely hear some form of a “yes”—but I can, with some effort, reasonably expect to change people, or at least encourage them to rethink some things, with my writing. Making an impact is a legitimate goal.

So then, what else do I want? When I say I want to write, what else am I after? Katie posed this question early, and with a series of pretty incisive conversations and diagnostics, we got somewhere with it. Well, I want to make my own schedule and have my own priorities; I want to be creatively engaged with things that interest me; I want people to respond to me and give me feedback, so I know how I’m doing and whether or not what I’m communicating makes sense. 

Those are clues. 

On a more nuts-and-bolts level, I want to spend at least some of every day writing and at least some of every day doing something tangible that helps people. I am naturally what they call a “maestro,” as opposed to what they call a “tribal” personality—I’d rather be an expert in something who gets called in for particular occasions than someone who’d prefer to work in a pack. 

Those are all clues, too. 

When Katie had me look through a deck of cards with a different photograph on each one—some with people, some of nature, some of old woodsheds, crowds, monuments, all sorts of things—and she asked me to pick out the ones that most grabbed my attention, we were both surprised and intrigued when the six I picked out all had pictures of people on them, most of them with people interacting. We had both had me pegged as more of a ‘thinker’ than a ‘feeler,’ but all the pictures I picked screamed that there was a ‘feeler’ in there to be acknowledged. Surprising, interesting, revealing—another clue. I also realized I want time to pursue music, too, even if writing is more important. While music may not be an actual part of my career—though music reviewing may be—I know it’s important, and I want a career that accommodates that.

You always know more than you think. And it takes someone who knows people and who knows the real world to bring that out and show you where you fit. That’s where Katie was indispensable.

I didn’t come away from career coaching knowing the next chapter of my story verbatim. I didn’t even come away knowing when this limbo period would be over and I’d actually feel like a grown-up, living in a coherent narrative again. But I did come away knowing with much greater clarity and realism that writing is in my future, as I’ve long hoped it would be, that people are in my future, as I was surprised to find I so badly wanted them to be, and that there is a place for me in the real world—namely, a small college somewhere where I can teach, write, engage with people, and have time to pursue my other interests. I now know some steps to take to find it. 

I don’t think progress is as simple or as automatic as I did when I was young, but I am pretty sure, now, that it didn’t end when I graduated, and it may have some more surprises in store for me in the future.

Part II: "The Dream" by Joseph Coram

At some point, the questions people have been asking you since you were young—particularly, “What do you want to be when you grow up?”—no longer get asked. Does that mean you’ve grown up? Not necessarily. But those questions begin to implicate the present; unless you are one of the few who are as certain of what you want to be as you were when you were six—and are equipped to make it happen—you realize, whether or not you have any dreams that have lasted, you are the only one that will make anything like a dream really happen.

But you also realize there is an objective, solid (or at least semi-solid) outside world within which your dream will or will not be realized. It may be that one’s twenties are spent trying to learn the rules of that world and how her or she fits in with it. Perhaps that’s why it’s a chapter in the story that tends to get skimmed or even skipped.

I am abundantly convinced that, however clichéd it may sound, it is critically important to keep your dreams alive. I think it is only slightly less important to realize they will almost certainly never happen in the way you dream they will. But a young adult who still knows how to dream is way better off than one who is too cynical and disillusioned to have any hope for the future.

Both of the perspectives I just mentioned—the dreamer and the realist—I think are necessary, and I think there is a way to keep both of them intact by figuring out how they relate to each other: the dreamer needs to be tempered by the realist, just as the cynic needs to be animated, and perhaps softened, by hope.

As I’ve thought about it, I’ve come to think the best way to look at this is to treat them both as dreams—that is, to realize that you always have at least two dreams in play. The first should be the easiest to recognize, but may not be, depending on how far away you are from your childhood: it is the astronaut, the rock star, the visionary author (or in my case, both of the latter two)—whatever you would have answered at age six when asked the familiar question of what you want to be when you grow up. The second dream is roughly the same for everyone, and it is rarely called into consciousness till you’re older. I think coming out of adolescence is in part a process of realizing how important it is: the dream to be real, to live grounded in reality, to have a life that is solid and reliable and that makes sense.

The loftier your Dream #1 is, the more Dream #2 tends to look like a mere negation. It will come to you couched in a sentence that starts with the word “But” and ends in dashing your hopes against the rocks. That, I want to suggest, is not the only way to approach the necessary task of relating these two dreams. They can be integrated. But it takes work and it takes help.

You have to realize that no matter how outlandish your first dream is, it is a huge “clue” (as Katie would say) to what you ought to do with your life. There is something valid and necessary at its core; there is something there that you are after; there is something in it that you really ought to pursue. 

We dream mostly in images, and only the most creative among us can dream in images we’ve never seen before. So someone says he wants to be an astronaut. He thinks that’s what he’s after because, out of everything that he’s seen, it is the role, the career, maybe the action figure that most embodies the much less tangible, the much more amorphous and elusive thing he really wants.

Depending on how old and “mature” he is, he has a greater or lesser sense of what it would actually take to make that dream happen, on the one hand, and a greater or lesser sense of the gritty reality of what that dream would demand of him were he actually able to realize it. No kid who dreams of being an astronaut is dreaming of the years of exhausting schooling and training, on the one hand, or the rote, monotonous drudgery that (I assume) fills up the vast expanses of time every astronaut spends not being in space.

But as the second dream grows in prominence—the dream to be real; the dream to have a real, adult life—it becomes a matter of letting the first dream, in all its particularity and naïveté, die, for a moment, and be reborn in a world governed by the laws of reality. 

I have come to believe, as I said, that at the core of every dream, even the most outlandish, there is something there worth saving and pursuing with everything you’ve got. The shell is what needs to go, and it’s not easy to let it go. It takes something like faith to know that when you let go of the particular form of the dream you’ve grown accustomed to, there will still be something there, something you really want, and something that you can pursue as a goal and finally get to.

To be continued...

Part I: "The Myth of Progress" by Joseph Coram

Twenty-five is not typically seen as a “difficult” year, and that’s part of what makes it so difficult. By the time you get there, you’re used to difficult years. It feels like being caught between phases of life, and it’s hard not to put yourself in drift and stay there. Both the resistance you’ve faced and the encouragement you’ve had as a young person back off at least a little, and without resistance or encouragement, it’s hard to find meaning.

From birth to age 18, or maybe age 22 if you go to college, life naturally has a sort of narrative character. Not everyone’s story is alike, but it seems like that span of time, for pretty much everyone, just feels like a story. While everyone’s story can be radically different—mine has been pretty unique—it’s largely the same structure for everyone. Each year means, developmentally, a particular set of challenges, and a particular vision for the near future.

Philosophers and theorists for the past several decades have focused a lot on how meaning is formed through narrative and many have concluded that stories—particularly our own stories and how we understand them—are where most of our sense of meaning comes from. In that sense, whether or not they realize it, young people have it pretty easy, at least for a while. Even if you don’t know where you’re heading, the fact that you have a trajectory—a built in direction, perhaps toward greater maturity—means you know reasonably well what to expect as the narrative progresses; and because it functions that way for most every young person, society has in part been structured around it. Your circumstances change; you change with them; and even with all the twists and turns and slip-ups and tragedies of growing up, you ultimately see, in your story, some form of progress. It is easy to believe you are heading somewhere definite, somewhere better than where you are now; it’s sort of programmed into you.

Another thing recent philosophers like to talk about is “the Enlightenment myth of progress”—the “Enlightenment” being the period after the Renaissance when modern science was developing, thinkers were turning toward reason as opposed to traditional religion, and democracy gained great prominence in Western society; and the “myth of progress” being this idea from that era that revolutionized our worldview in suggesting that society as a whole is improving and will continue to improve until we reach some sort of utopia in which all needs are met and dreams are realized and everyone gets along with everyone.

The reason philosophers like to talk about it is because they almost all agree that it’s not true. Further, they almost all agree that, however untrue the idea is, it’s still utterly pervasive among most people. I think technology has a lot to do with why many still find it plausible. To put it crudely, the man on the street thinks because the iPhone 5 is substantially better than the iPhone 4s, the whole world is moving in the right direction; whereas someone with some highlights of the twentieth century in mind—two world wars and a holocaust, for instance—is not so readily convinced things are improving. The Enlightenment’s “meta-narrative”—its grand, overarching story that says we’re getting better, is fiction.

But that fact has not made its way into the contexts that most significantly affect the worlds we grow up in. It’s still everywhere, and people still want to believe it, so it’s even harder to dislodge. The idea of progress makes particular sense to young people—even ones so young they can’t understand it—and it’s actually pretty reasonable for them to buy into it. Growing kids do see remarkable advances each year as they grow up and mature, physically, emotionally, psychologically, and so on. It’s easy to believe things are just supposed to get better.

My theory is, once you hit your mid-twenties, not only does progress become less obvious, but the whole idea of your life as a continuous story makes less and less sense, and you’re hard pressed to stay engaged and keep moving forward. As an adolescent you can be in drift and still move forward; the story itself carries you forward; but by the time you graduate, “in drift” no longer means “coasting”—something adults lament but ultimately condone in adolescents; it means something more like “stagnant.” From what I can tell, life does seem to pick up again once you’re in full-fledged adulthood, but that really doesn’t seem to begin until you’re about thirty—maybe until you have a spouse; maybe until you have kids. Mine certainly hasn’t started up again.

To be continued...

Beautiful Mind Alert!!

GollyGforce
"Result of an Amusing Memory"

My friend and former client, Joseph Coram, has many gifts.

But then, so do we all.

(How many times do I say that in this blog? Like, a million?!)

However, Joseph possesses one gift that I find particularly spectacular: his insight into the human experience.  After our conversations I always walk away with new ways of looking at age-old dilemmas. Fortunately, I discovered, he most beautifully expresses these thoughts through his writing.

Now, I like to fancy myself a fairly good writer on personal development issues, in that I can make random connections between my dog's goat-like tendencies and the challenges of career design. (It's a gift, I tell you!!)  Still, I consider writing just one of many tools I use to educate others on how to navigate the career world.

But Joseph?  He's the real deal. He writes circles around me, and if you ever have the opportunity to meet him you'd understand why: his nimble and luminous-yet humble- mind knows no bounds. And this mind, I decided, needed to be shared with Grow readers.

PRONTO.

Therefore I invited him to write an essay about his 25-year life experience from a millennial generation vantage point.  I asked him to explain to "The People Out There" (that would be you) how he is navigating his creative life as a twenty-something guy trying to make his way in the world. And, fortunately for all of us, he agreed.

His essay has three parts, so I'm therefore going to publish them as a three-part series (I took a HUGE leap on that choice,) starting with the next post.  I am sure you will appreciate his enlightening words as much as I do.

Enjoy!

-Katie

Multi-talented You (Yes, You!!!)

Despite what many believe, we all have multiple talents that are just sitting there waiting for us to use them- personally and professionally. We can also play several important roles at any given time in our life while using many different talents in varying degrees.  

As you're well aware, countless studies show that we thrive better when we allow ourselves to live in a multi-dimensional way, dividing our time between family, friends, hobbies, side interests AND professional fulfillment.  After all, we are anything but one dimensional human beings, so why live as if we are? Besides, success in one area often motivates us to thrive in another.

"But I Don't Have Any Talents (much less multiple ones)!!!!"

I've heard many people say to me, when they hear about my work in natural talents and abilities, "Oh, I don't have any natural talents." Or "my brother got all the talent in our family." And how many times have you heard people say, "I don't have real talent, I just work hard."

Latest Winners, Kellie Pickler and Derek Hough

But the truth is that we all have talents. They may not be as obvious to us as say, throwing a fastball like Stephen Strasburg, or possessing moves worthy of Dancing With the Stars,

but they are there; when we know how they all fit together, they are powerful!  

Imagine if we were all to throw away our preconceived notions about our lack of talent and learn instead about the ones we possess. We could not only thrive but make the world a better place by confidently expressing those multiple talents.

Want some of my celebrity examples? Below are features about two fantastic athletes with some pretty obvious talents: baseball player, Jayson Werth of the Washington Nationals (Go Nats!!!) and LA Lakers basketball player, Steve Nash. But more than just shine light on their evident abilities, these articles highlight the talents we don't see on the ball field or basketball court. 

But, IMHO, those hidden, less obvious talents are the best ones! Talents like selling, persuading, motivating, facilitating, promoting, researching, managing, nurturing, protecting, trouble shooting, tweaking, and creating are ones that you can discover in yourself and develop to their fullest potential. And who knows where these abilities could lead once you discover how they work in combination with one another.

After all, your unique cocktail of talents may not grace the cover of Esquire Magazine like those of Leonardo DiCaprio, but who says you can't be a superstar in your own way? 

Via Flickr

CLICK HERE for Jayson Werth's story

Via Flickr

CLICK HERE for Steve Nash's story

p.s. I am always on the hunt for fascinating people who make use of their multiple talents, personally and professionally. Know of anyone? (Maybe it's you!)  If so, please share! Leave a comment.

Thanks,

Katie

"There is Nothing Naive About Your Impulse to Change the World"

This past month I've read dozens of 2013 commencement speeches from thought leaders around the world; however, not one of them sounded like anything too inspiring or new to me.  But then I happened to stumble upon a 2008 Wesleyan University commencement address by then-Senator Barack Obama and it struck a chord.  I thought I'd share this abridged version with you.

Enjoy!

-Katie

"... You are about to enter a world that makes it easy to get caught up in the notion that there are actually two different stories at work in our lives.

The first is the story of our everyday cares and concerns - the responsibilities we have to our jobs and our families - the bustle and busyness of what happens in our lives. And the second is the story of what happens in the life of our country - of what happens in the wider world. It's the story you see when you catch a glimpse of the day's headlines or turn on the news at night - a story of big challenges like war and recession; hunger and climate change; injustice and inequality. It's a story that sometimes can seem separate and distant from our own - a destiny to be shaped by forces beyond our control.

And yet, the history of this nation tells us that it isn't so. It tells us that we are a people whose destiny has never been written for us, but by us - by generations of men and women, young and old, who have always believed that their story and the American story are not separate, but shared. And for more than two centuries, they have served this country in ways that have forever enriched both.

I say this to you as someone who couldn't be standing here if it were not for the service of others, and wouldn't be standing here today if not for the purpose that service gave my own life.

You see, I spent much of my childhood adrift. My father left my mother and me when I was two. When my mother remarried, I lived overseas for a time, but was mostly raised in Hawaii by her and my grandparents from Kansas. My teenage years were filled with more than the usual dose of teenage rebellion, and I'll admit that I didn't always take myself or my studies very seriously. I realize that none of you can probably relate to this, overachievers that you are, but there were many times when I wasn't sure where I was going, or what I was going to do with my life.

But during my first two years of college, perhaps because the values my mother had taught me - values of hard work, honesty, empathy and compassion - finally resurfaced after a long hibernation; or perhaps because of the example of wonderful teachers and lasting friends, I began to notice a world beyond myself. I became active in the movement to oppose the apartheid regime of South Africa. I began following the debates in this country about poverty and health care. So that by the time I graduated from college, I was possessed with this crazy idea - that I was going to work at a grassroots level to bring about change.

I wrote letters to every organization in the country I could think of. And one day, a small group of churches on the South Side of Chicago offered me a job to come work as a community organizer in neighborhoods that had been devastated by the closing of steel mills. My mother and my grandparents, liberal minded though they were, wanted me to go to law school. My friends were applying to jobs on Wall Street. Meanwhile, this organization offered me $12,000 a year plus $2,000 for an old, beat-up car.

And I said yes. I said yes.

I didn’t know a soul in Chicago, and I wasn't sure what this community organizing business was all about. I had always been inspired by stories of the Civil Rights Movement and by JFK's call to service, but when I got to the South Side, there were no marches, there were no soaring speeches. In the shadows of empty factories, there were just a lot of people who were struggling. And at first we didn't get very far.

I still remember one of the very first meetings we put together. The community had been plagued by gang violence, so we tried to mobilize a meeting with community leaders. And I had worked for weeks on this project. We waited and waited for people to show up, and finally, a group of older people walked into the hall. And they sat down. And a little old lady raised her hand and asked, "Is this where the bingo game is?"

It wasn't easy, but eventually, we made progress. Day by day, block by block, we brought the community together, and registered new voters, and we set up after school programs, and fought for new jobs, and helped people live lives with some measure of dignity.

I also began to realize that I wasn't just helping other people. Through service, I found a community that embraced me; citizenship that was meaningful; the direction that I'd been seeking. Through service, I discovered how my own improbable story fit in to the larger story of America.

Now, each of you will have the chance to make your own discovery in the years to come. And I say "chance" because, as President Roth indicated, you won’t have to take it. There's no community service requirement in the outside world; no one's forcing you to care. You can take your diploma, walk off this stage, and chase only after the big house and the nice suits and the other things that our money culture says you should buy. You can choose to narrow your concerns and live life in a way that tries to keep your story separate from America's.

But I hope you don't. Not because you have an obligation to those who are less fortunate, although I believe you do have that obligation. Not because you have a debt to all those who helped you get to where you are today, although I do believe you have that debt to pay.

It's because you have an obligation to yourself. Because our individual salvation depends on collective salvation. Because thinking only about yourself, fulfilling your immediate wants and needs, betrays a poverty of ambition. Because it's only when you hitch your wagon to something larger than yourself that you realize your true potential and discover the role that you'll play in writing the next great chapter in the American story.

There are so many ways to serve and so much that needs to be done at this defining moment in our history. You don't have to be a community organizer or do something crazy like run for President. 

And so, understand that, should you take the path of service, should you choose to take up one of these causes as your own, know that you'll experience the occasional frustrations and the occasional failures. Even your successes will be marked by imperfections and unintended consequences. I guarantee you, there will be times when friends or family urge you to pursue more sensible endeavors with more tangible rewards. And there will be times where you will be tempted to take their advice.

But I hope you'll remember, during those times of doubt and frustration, that there is nothing naïve about your impulse to change the world. Because all it takes is one act of service - one blow against injustice - to send forth what Robert Kennedy called that tiny ripple of hope. That's what changes the world. That one act. An act by you, Class of 2008.

We will face our share of cynics and doubters. But we always have. I can still remember a conversation I had with an older man all those years ago right before I was headed for my new job in Chicago. He said, "Barack, I'll give you a bit of advice. Forget about this community organizing business and do something that's gonna make you some money. You can't change the world, and people won't appreciate you trying. But you've got a nice voice, so you should think about going into television broadcasting. I'm telling you, you have a future there."

Now, I’ve wondered…he might have been right about the TV thing, but he was wrong about everything else. For that old man has not seen what I have seen. He has not seen the faces of ordinary people the first time they clear a vacant lot or build a new playground or force an unresponsive leader to provide services to a community that's been neglected. He has not seen the face of a child brighten because of an inspiring teacher or an inspiring mentor. He has not seen the scores of young people educate their parents on issues like Darfur, or mobilize the conscience of a nation around the challenges of climate change. He has not seen the lines of men and women that wrap around schools and churches, that stretch out block after block after block just so they could make their voices heard, many for the very first time.

Our collective service can shape the destiny of this generation... and generations to come.

-Senator Barack Obama

Commencement address at Wesleyan University, 

Middletown, Connecticut, USA, May 28, 2008

Click here to read the speech in its entirety.

Tasting My Own Medicine

Via Creative Commons: Flickr

As I said in my previous post, I have taken the plunge and am giving my first workshop   open to the public called, "Your Hidden Potential: Discover Talents You Never Knew You Had."

I've done other workshops, but not an open one.  And it's a bit scary for me, to tell you the truth. I've performed onstage in front of thousands of people- but always in character.  (The only exception was a cabaret I did for charity, and even though it went smashingly well I was a nervous wreck beforehand!)

But I'm excited.  And I know that I need to venture on to a new stage, excuse the pun. I also know it's time to let everyone know about the talents they don't know about!

(Excuse the plug.)

I will admit that this wasn't my idea.  It was my mentor's idea. When we got together a few months ago we talked yet again about how someday I would do a public workshop.  As in, distant future, when the time was right and I'd know EXACTLY what I would say: 100% crystal clear vision and content.

But that's when he gave me a taste of my own medicine and encouraged me to "just book a date" for a workshop and then commit to doing it.  It didn't matter what the specifics were.  I could figure that out after I'd committed to doing the presentation.

Hmmm.... I raised an eyebrow and scrunched up my nose a bit; I always do that when someone calls me out on something.

That advice did sound familiar... kind of like the suggestions I'd doled out to my clients hundreds of times!  Wasn't I the one always telling people to, "Just go for it!  Take a little step!  You don't have to have every single piece in place before starting the puzzle." (And helloooo?! My very first blog post!)

So how could I argue with my mentor who taught me everything I know about helping people move forward?  And I'm certainly glad he did, once again, push me to move forward. It's why coaches need coaches!

Back to the Medicine Cabinet

Fast forward a couple of months later and I realized I needed yet another dose of my own medicine, since apparently the original dose was wearing off.

This time I was going through a frustrating time business wise (in the form of internet marketing) and said to my husband in despair, "You know, all people seem to want is someone to tweak their resumes or show them how to interview or network.  They don't want someone who can actually help them with what they need FIRST, which is to figure out what exactly they WANT on their resumes or WHO they want to work for or network WITH!!  But, by god, if that's where all the money is, maybe I should just play that game and target the mass market driven by conventional wisdom."

He just looked at me and quietly said, "Have you read your own blog lately?"

Pause.  

(I hate it when he's right. $%@* it!)

"Oh, I know, you're right," I conceded. "And I suppose I should remember the 'create yourself' part."

Then, in order to do some out loud (so I could hear it) affirmation, I said, "I know, deep down, that just because most other career coaches out there (besides my mentor and a handful of others) are banking on the quick fixes a lot of people seek doesn't mean I can't develop an innovative and lucrative coaching business for a niche market.

(And here's where my voice became less timid and more declarative.  It always comes from remembering my great clients who continue to inspire me.)

Besides, the people who choose to work with me tend to be intelligent, thoughtful individuals.  They're intuitive enough to know that the front end of career design- the discovery piece- is just as important as the back end- the interviews, the networking and resumes.  I'm sticking to my mission come hell or high water!"

"There you go," is all he said. And gave me a hug.

(I know, I'm really a lucky lady.)

I felt much better after that.  My medicine tasted surprisingly good.

Workshop, Here I Come!!

Now I'm honestly looking forward to the workshop.  I've come up with a fun program that should be equal parts entertainment and insight. (If you don't think my theatrical background will be shining its way through you'd be mistaken!) Sure, it will be different than most workshops; but then again, Grow Career Coaching marches to its own drummer.

(Like someone else I know, who is going to keep her medicine bottle handy.)

Live in the DC area? Click here for tickets:

http://growcareercoaching.eventbrite.com

Create Yourself: Will Gray

“Life isn't about finding yourself. Life is about creating yourself.” 

― George Bernard Shaw

Last year, when my friend, Rebecca, recommended I go with her to a screening of Will Gray's documentary, "Broke," I thought little of it.  But Rebecca always has good recommendations when it comes to musical events, so I figured I might as well check it out. (After all, she was the catalyst behind my Enriquez Iglesias experience.) And this documentary was about breaking into the music industry, so I suspected that I'd probably enjoy it.

But "enjoy it" was an understatement. The experience blew me away.

The film screening was held in an intimate setting, a row house in Washington, DC. Upon entering, Will welcomed all of us in what I now know to be his typical warm, affectionate way. I was even a little taken aback by his humility and graciousness, being that he'd made a film, was a phenomenal singer and a gifted song writer.

And let's just say he was quite easy on the eyes.

(Shoot, was that out loud?)

Anyway, what really blew me away was Will's voice.  And I'm not just talking about his speaking voice or singing voice, which was, I have to say, amazing. (He and his fellow performer, Reva Williams, treated us to a few stunning performances following the film screening.) I'm referring instead to what Will had to say.  He had managed to find his Voice with a capital "V," that inner awareness that so few people seem to achieve in their lifetime.  He knew what he wanted: to perform, to create, to tell a story; and he new what he wanted to say: that the music industry was changing in some not-so-beneficial ways and how it that affects the artform of performing and songwriting.

The fact that Will had made his music career- by age 30- something profoundly personal and unique was truly inspirational.  What's more, Will had made his life his own in a world of imitators and skeptics, a world I'd become somewhat familiar with from my time in professional acting. Like a breath of fresh air he was genuine and kind. He hadn't succumbed to all of the phoniness of the music business, from the rejections, from the hardships of trying to express his art despite the throngs of people trying to break into showbiz mainly to be famous.  He hadn't been hardened by the fact that being the right look or sound can easily trump talent.

What I saw that night was someone who had chosen to transcend that often troublesome world by having faith: faith not only in God but in himself and others as well.  He appreciated the collaborative approach to music, writing and filmmaking. He spoke of the miraculous results stemming from working as a team and how he relished that collective creative process.

It became increasingly apparent as the evening progressed that Will was living in a truly multifaceted way, using his whole person. He had tapped not only into his songwriting ability and singing talent but also his entrepreneurial streak, his sharp intellect, his poetic gift for visual, oral and musical storytelling, and his penchant for finding meaning in life and sharing it with others. He demonstrated all of these extensions of himself in his beautiful music, his insightful documentary and the visual way in which he had presented the entire evening.

Listening to the story and songs of a musician who had gone for "broke" (thus the documentary's title) provided a visceral experience for all of us gathered there.  We shared an unexpected creative intimacy in a normally distant, reserved and sometimes unimaginative city. I suppose we Washingtonians just needed a bit of a renegade to shake things up!

So, from a person who has been fortunate enough to experience your talents, here is a belated thank you, Will.  Thank you for touching my life in such a wonderful way. You eloquently embody what it means to "create yourself."

Jeff Haden: What Does YOUR Success Look Like?

Inc. columnist, Jeff Haden, suggests we adopt a more individualized definition of success. This involves honestly assessing our happiness and recognizing that there are always personal and professional tradeoffs.

Oh, and there's a picture of a Golden Retriever.

What more could you ask for?

Enjoy,
Katie

http://www.linkedin.com/today/post/article/20130314115932-20017018-the-best-definition-of-success-is-the-one-you-never-use?goback=%2Eptf_*1_*1_*1_*1_recentPosts_*1&trk=who_to_follow-b

What if you knew...

You had patience to spare?

Insights to offer?

What if you knew you you were enough to make a difference?

And were capable of creating really useful solutions? 

What would today look like?

Diamond in the Rough

I just had the privilege of seeing Shawn Colvin perform at The Birchmere.  I thoroughly enjoyed watching a woman who has honed her craft so remarkably over the years, thriving in the music industry for much longer than most performers.

Fortunately, Ms. Colvin has recently released a memoir that is on my list to read.  According to the reviews I've read, she uses the same enjoyable and self-deprecating humor in her writing that she does in her live performances. The book illuminates her life in music, and recounts the joys of meeting her music heros and heroines. It also depicts her trials with clinical depression, alcoholism, broken relationships, and the shock of motherhood. (This last one- let's just say, I get it.)  However, she says that she's now "happy and healthy," a celebration in and of itself, and, in my mind, her most remarkable achievement of all.

Vocalist/Guitarist/Writer


While I could listen to her sing her Grammy Award-winning song, "Sunny Came Home," countless times- and she gave an exquisite performance of it the other night- I do find another one of her songs, "Diamond in the Rough," particularly enchanting.  The song seems exceptionally poignant when one considers Ms. Colvin's tenacity in spite of the adversity I mentioned above.  In fact, I would venture to say that the she has thrived in the music business for so long not only because of her amazing musical talent, but also because she writes from an incredibly honest, vulnerable place; a place many of us like to personally hide from but are just willing enough to relate to.

I feel especially drawn to the "Diamond" lyrics because they shine a light on how difficult it is to keep alive the essence of who we are.  Born as beautiful jewels, we each have so many gifts to offer.  When we're little we have pride in what we do, we feel at home in our fascinations.  We have a certain respect for our needs and wants, even though we are still learning about our boundaries and the boundaries of others.

So where does this confidence and ease start to unravel?  We all have had unkind people and painful experiences in our lives that have helped to squelch our enthusiasm for living genuinely; in some lives, tragically, the experiences are nothing short of unabashed cruelty.  However, much of it, I believe, is also an unfortunate part of growing up and more aware of the world around us. Over the years, we accrue layers of doubts and fears and personal neglect that serve to bury our uniqueness.

In "Diamond in the Rough," Ms. Colvin explores this phenomenon, all the while reminding us that finding those gems, deep down inside, is a feat we all must try to do. Reclaiming our essence, our self-respect and innate worth requires some relearning, some fighting back, and, most importantly, requires tremendous courage.

As an offering of inspiration, I thought I'd share with you the lyrics and video for "Diamond in the Rough. Enjoy!

As a little girl I came down to the water

With a little stone in my hand

It would shimmer and sing

And we knew everything

As a little girl I came down

But in a little while I got steeped in authority

Heaven only knows what went wrong

And there is nothing so cruel

Than to bury that jewel

It was mine all along

I'm gonna find it

You're shining I can see you

You're smiling that's enough

I'm holding on to you

Like a diamond in the rough

Every now and then I can see

That I'm getting somewhere

Where I have to go is so deep

I was angry back then

And you know I still am

I have lost too much sleep

But I'm gonna find it

 You're shining I can see you

You're smiling that's enough

I'm holding on to you

Like a diamond in the rough

Like a diamond in the rough

 Snakes in the grass got to step on the gas

Snakes in the grass got to step on the gas

 In my dreams I go down by the water

With a little girl in my arms
And we shimmer and sing
And we know everything, everything
In my dreams I go down, I go down

Copied from MetroLyrics.com 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aDpHggDfxQs

Create Yourself: Entrepreneurship for Women

This is for you ladies out there who want to start a business and create your own thing: from the Daily Muse, an article about female entrepreneurship.

Enjoy!

Clay Shirky: What I Learned About Creativity By Watching Creatives

Check out this amazing presentation on the creative process. 

Clay Shirky, a leader in technological design and an assistant professor at NYU's Tisch School of the Arts, discusses many of my favorite ingredients to successful innovation, including:

1. The power of collaboration and the interdisciplinary approach to problem solving 

In this case, engineers and techies collaborate with artists and designers, which he likens to a philharmonic orchestra.

2. The pleasure principle of just having fun for fun's sake (not merely "play"- which can be dictated)  

Who knows where having fun can lead?  Does it matter?

3. The consideration of individual creative needs 

What works for one group or person doesn't work for all. Sound like personal career design??

4. The importance of making your innovations interesting 

This leads people to care about what you are doing. 

5. The fuel created from working on problems from silly to serious 

Perhaps some cross pollination happens to happen?

He also happens to be a terrific communicator, so enjoy!