I want to try something with you.

But first I feel drawn to tell you two stories on my mind right now, both from the world of dance, which is where I am when I’m not writing, and also the place where writer-me goes to study voice, trust, patience, lusciousness, and process.

A different way of thinking about imitation.

At a training with Brandi Tobias, world champion dancer.

She watched the room and said, “Okay people, I need you to dance the same pattern again, but this time do your best imitation of how a world champion dancer would dance this pattern.

We did it again. It was better. A remarkable amount of better. The room felt different too, tingly and alive.

She sighed. “I don’t know whether I like this exercise or not. I love watching you guys dance so much better, but honestly it pisses me off to no end that you seem to think you need permission to have confidence in your movement.”

Changing the definition.

I have always thought, without out really thinking about it, that imitation is just never good — it’s not being true to yourself, wanting something that isn’t yours, and so on.

Certainly as a writer, one of my greatest frustrations is when people try to write in my voice instead of being inspired to turn inward and find theirs. Sincerest form of flattery means nothing to me. Things that resonate with truth mean everything to me.

But what if I rewrite the word? What if imitation can also mean granting ourselves permission to glow? In that case, imitation becomes the sincerest form of trying on a glow to see how it transforms a moment…

If that’s true, then people can let go of the need to imitate my voice and instead imitate the trust that it takes to share of yourself in your own way, glow your own glow. Oh, the tingly real magic of that.

Nothing to prove.

At a seminar with Brad Whelan on the Art of Winning (dance competitions).

He told a story about a time he danced very well in a competition and would have made finals (in the top division) but for one point marked down by one judge, who happened to be a good friend of his. So he asked her what he could do differently.

She said, “You were great. It’s just, you were dancing like you were trying to make finals, you weren’t dancing like you thought belonged there.”

That was his turning point, he stopped trying to prove he was good enough and started dancing like he knew he was, and now he always makes finals.

Right now.

One of the things I love about dance — and by “love”, I mean it drives me up the wall, is that yes, you need technique, and yes, you have to develop artistry, but so much of it, maybe even most of it, is just trusting that you are allowed to stop doubting yourself.

Which is not the easiest thing to learn how to do.

But think about the power of this:

Not waiting for Oh Someday In The Distant Future When It’s Been Proven That I’m Amazing And Therefore I’m Finally Allowed To Act Like I Am Relaxed, Positive and Sure Of Myself In Everything I Do.

Just deciding that right now, in this moment, I get to have fun, I get to glow, I get to feel what it’s like to be wildly confident, because that feeling is a good thing for my body to be able to feel.

And I will in fact dance better when I’m not regularly flooding my body with monster-criticism and doubt. And this applies equally to everything in life that is Not Dance.

The superpower of yeah let’s do this.

I’m taking this concept and repurposing it for my L.I.S.T. — my to-do list which is also an acronym for Luscious Intrigue of Secret Treasure.

Let’s imagine that the World Champion of Crossing Shit Off The List (something I generally believe to be overrated but I could really use some of that magic today) is here with us right now.

She says, “Okay people, let’s play with one thing on our list, and let’s do it like we are world champions of crossing shit off, we have all the superpowers needed for this. What does this look like? One thing. How are we going to approach? With style! You’ve got the glow. You’ve got permission (always) to glow. Let’s see how this feels.”

Here are the superpowers we get to have today.

We get to have them because we just do, and also we are imitating them to remind ourselves of what that might feel like….

The superpowers of:

Wonder Focus. I’ve Got This. I Ask The Right Questions. Relaxed and Positive! I Trust Myself More Than I Ever Have Before. World Champion Crosser-Offer! Everything I Do Counts, No Matter What The Monsters Think. Fractal Flowers, baby.

Let’s play in the comments!

Here’s how this is going to work….

  1. We decide we have the superpowers and we have the glow, or at least we’re imitating them to see what that feels like and how it changes the moment.
  2. We name some of the things on our L.I.S.T. of things that want to be crossed off or otherwise released.
  3. We choose one thing to investigate and see what might help move it forward.
  4. We award ourselves absolutely thrilling over-the-top amounts of sparklepoints for anything and everything!

And then we can check back in, throw some sparklepoints around and apply more superpowers as needed. You can also just say hi, share appreciation and enthusiasm, and of course make up acronyms, because that is the best.

Tricks! It helps so much to creatively rename things on the list, or use secret code so they aren’t a drag. And I love [Colorful Whimsical Umbrellas] — I’ve written about Barbara’s trick of CWUs here and here.

As in all things, permission and legitimacy!

Life is busy and challenging, the game is super rigged, things pretty much always take an entirely different amount of time than anticipated, everything counts. Endless respect (and a billion sparklepoints) to us for getting through the day, however it happens. Everything else is a bonus.

The Fluent Self