What's in the gallery?
We dissolve stuck and rewrite patterns. We apply radical playfulness to life (when we feel like it!), embarking on internal adventures (credo of Safety First). We have a fake band called Solved By Cake. We build invisible sanctuaries, invent words and worlds, breathe awe and wonder.
We are not impressed by monsters. Except when we are. We explore the connections between internal territories and surrounding environment to learn what marvelously supportive delicious space feels like, and how to take exquisite care of ourselves. We transform things.* We glow wild.**
* For example: Desire, fear, worry, pain-and-trauma, boundaries, that problematic word which rhymes with flaweductivity.
** Fair warning: Self-fluency has been known to lead to extremely subversive behavior, including treasuring yourself unconditionally, unapologetically taking up space, experiencing outrageously improbable levels of self-acceptance, and general rejoicing in aliveness.
What's in the gallery?
We dissolve stuck and rewrite patterns. We apply radical playfulness to life (when we feel like it!), embarking on internal adventures (credo of Safety First). We have a fake band called Solved By Cake. We build invisible sanctuaries, invent words and worlds, breathe awe and wonder.
We are not impressed by monsters. Except when we are. We explore the connections between internal territories and surrounding environment to learn what marvelously supportive delicious space feels like, and how to take exquisite care of ourselves. We transform things.* We glow wild.**
* For example: Desire, fear, worry, pain-and-trauma, boundaries, that problematic word which rhymes with flaweductivity.
** Fair warning: Self-fluency has been known to lead to extremely subversive behavior, including treasuring yourself unconditionally, unapologetically taking up space, experiencing outrageously improbable levels of self-acceptance, and general rejoicing in aliveness.
Laziness is dead. Long live Laziness.
It’s never about lazy (although we always think it is)
When people talk to me about their habits, and especially about the big, frustrating “why am I not doing the thing already” procrastination cycle, there’s one word that invariably comes up:
Lazy.
As in “It’s really just about me being lazy . . .” or “If I could just stop myself when the laziness kicks in . . .” or “If I stop pushing myself I’ll just end up on the couch again . . .”
Just about every client and student of mine thinks that this is the main reason — or a big part of it — that they aren’t DOING THE THING. But that’s not the case at all, and the reason is simple; as it turns out, laziness doesn’t exist. That’s right — it’s a myth.
It’s a big one, though, so let me share a bit about how to work through the blocking concept of “lazy” to get to the good stuff.
Why there’s no such thing as lazy
The problem with “laziness” is that the term doesn’t actually describe anything. You just can’t be in a state of laziness the way you can be in a state of calm or a state of anger. Laziness isn’t an emotion (a state of being) and it isn’t an activity (a state of doing). Laziness is actually a judgment — a negative judgment — about a state of not doing. Most likely about yours.
If you stumble into a room full of Buddhist monks sitting in meditation, you’re probably not going to say, “Ugh, look at those lazy jerks, just sitting around not doing anything. They should totally be ashamed to even take up space.” It would actually be kind of funny if you did, but it wouldn’t be all that relevant.
Lazy is a word we use to judge ourselves when we’re feeling hurt or fearful. Or to judge people we don’t like because they remind us of ourselves. Ow. I know. Me too.
So if it’s not lazy, what is it?
Oh, a whole bunch of things. Fear. Blame. Worry. Doubt. But as I said, it’s mostly about judgment. As you get better at noticing what’s really going on for you (“Hey, I’m getting mad at myself for not doing enough again, there’s some guilt here that wants my attention”), it becomes gradually easier to peel away the layers.
As you keep at it (peel, peel, peel), something happens. The part of you that is trying to protect you shows up and explains what it’s afraid of.
When you peel back the layers, there is hurt and worry that wants love and attention. And when you give these parts of yourself love and attention, the default pattern of name-calling (Lazy!) stops being useful for you. It stops working. When you peel away the fear, anxiety, anger and doubt and interact with them, you are left with:
– Things you want to do or choose to do.
– Things you don’t want to do.
When that happens, you can make smart choices. Plus, it’s a lot easier to make these choices when you’re not in the distraction, anxiety and distress that cause you to veer off into the procrastination zone to begin with.
Incorporating active not-doing (making it conscious)
Active not-doing is totally different than spacing out. It’s conscious and intentional. You know when you go to look something up online and two hours later you’re down the craziest rabbit hole and have no idea how you got there? Not conscious and not active.
Active not-doing is also totally different than active avoidance. Yes, it’s lovely that you have the cleanest refrigerator bottom this side of the Mississippi Delta, but that’s not going to be conscious or active not-doing for most of us.
Active not-doing involves choice. It involves mindfulness. It involves practice. And most of all, it involves permission. Agreeing to give yourself twenty minutes to roll on the floor and breathe is a good thing. Agreeing to trust yourself to come back to the thing is the crux of this practice, because the very act of recognizing your avoidance will help you get back to DOING THE THING.
The good news is that active not-doing can start in any moment. Even after those two hours of avoidance you can still notice and press pause: “Oh, I’m doing it. Feeling some guilt here. Can I let myself stop and be here with my guilt? Can I take a minute to breathe and let it just soak into the ground? Can I ask myself to receive some strength and support so I can get a little clarity on this?”
Easier said than done, right?
Oh boy. You can say that again. Well, there are a bunch of things to work on here, many aspects and much to learn, practice and learn again.
Okay, so you’re probably not a Buddhist monk. Neither am I. And yes, it’s a lot easier to give the monks permission to not do because they give themselves permission to not do, and also because they’re blissing out on their calm vibes. And also because they probably don’t have THAT THING DUE TOMORROW. Aaaaaargh.
I know. I’m not asking you to perfect the life art of not-doing. I’m not even going to suggest that you meditate for ten minutes a day. Meditation is hard work — one of the highest forms of Not Doing. We’ll start with something easier.
All I’m saying is that when you take the judgment out of the equation, a state of not-doing is good for you. More not-doing will actually help you with the doing, but only if you’re not freaking out. We want to work on letting go of the need to always be in doing mode. And we want to work on learning about the things that terrify us so we can know how we work.
It’s about being willing to establish a lifelong process of learning about who we are, how we function, and how we interact with ourselves and the world around us. It’s about learning about your stuff and not being impressed by it. Maybe even eventually getting around to liking yourself anyway. Maybe.
Giving yourself permission to actively not-do is probably one of the hardest things there is. Let’s start small. It’s okay to start small. It’s even good to start small. But at least we’re starting (yay for us)!
One more option
Another way to get into the frame of mind where you can let yourself just not do: my clients, of course, all use the Emergency Calming Techniques recordings when they are “having a moment”.
This has seriously cut down on those semi-frantic “I need you to talk me down from this” calls. They get a ten-minute time-out to shift into some quieter head space where they aren’t going to guilt themselves over a small chunk of healthy not-doing. And I get more uninterrupted time to write! Whee. Everybody wins. ‹smile›
When thinking big is the worst thing you can do
A true story
I want you to know that it took me over a year to get around to reading Michael Port’s book “Book Yourself Solid“.
Yes, I’m a procrastination expert, and yes, and it took me a year to read a book I actually wanted to read. It actually wasn’t about being in avoidance. It was more about consciously working through my layers of discomfort so I could get to the point where it wouldn’t be interfering with my interaction with the book. There was just a lot to work through.
You see, what comes up for me (my own personal associations here) when I think about being “booked solid” is “Ohmygosh, what a complete and utter nightmare.” To me it actually sounds like high stress, no time, and no flexibility, all because you’re stuck with this ridiculously packed calendar that can’t be budged. Who would want that?
Now, the book has all sorts of useful tidbits (read it!), and I also know Michael well enough to say that he is a really great guy with a very good heart. I’m seriously pro-Michael. But a lot of the people who need to benefit from his book and his message just won’t. Or at least not unless they work through their own resistance to the concept of thinking big. Hey, we’ve all got stuff.
Here is a book that was written under the assumption that everyone wants to think big, should think big and needs to be told to think big. Actually, there are lots of us with big issues around thinking big. And sometimes “think big” is just not the advice you need.
When thinking big is absolutely the wrong thing for you
Here’s the thing with thinking big. It can be terrifying. And when you’re in fear, you don’t take action. Or if you do take action, it’s not going to be the kind of thoughtful, intentional, motivated action that is going to serve you.
There are a ton of “think big” people in the world, whether you’re dealing with coaching, “self-help” or the business world. Some of them are really great people– bright, charismatic, good-intentioned people like Michael Port–and some of them are pushy, sales-ey, highlighter-wielding types. I like to think of all of them collectively as the “biggifiers”.
Even if we assume that they are all well-meaning, brimming over with integrity and have your own best interests nestled in their tender hearts, here’s what happens in real-time:
- When biggifiers start shouting “think big think big think big” at you, your discomfort level rises to the point that you can’t absorb the rest of their smart, useful advice.
- When biggifiers tell you that you “have to” do things (and you know, uncomfortable things like “stepping out of your comfort zone”), it’s completely understandable when you default into anxiety mode.
- When biggifiers tell you how easy it is, you want to believe them … but you also know perfectly well that it isn’t. At least, not for you. And since you’re the one who has to do it, it’s not going to happen.
Sure you want to be able to think big, but you equally don’t want to have to do it, so you default into stuck.
When thinking small is equally disastrous
The more biggifiers talk about thinking big, the more some other people shrink. Which is the saddest thing I can think of. People intentionally not flowering. People who cannot be helped by the biggifiers because they are just not yet ready for big.
There’s a conversation I end up having about twice a week, always with someone who comes to me with a serious case of needing to stay small. Usually something like:
“Oh no, someone wants to link to my website and I’m not ready to be visible yet.”
or
“It’s too embarrassing to put up a website because it’s not like the thing I do is a real thing yet.”
or
“I’ve been wanting to make a flyer to tell people about these amazing classes I lead, but the thought of putting myself out there like that is just too scary to deal with.”
So let me just lay it on the line.
I understand that you are feeling nervous and maybe also frightened because you need to be able to trust your gifts. You are allowed to be feeling all of what you are feeling. And yet …
You are not serving anyone by keeping yourself small.
Oh my dear, you are here in this world with a collection of gifts. You have spent your life accumulating the ideas, information and experience that have made you who you are. You have the intention, the ability, the knowledge and the desire to help people have transformative experiences and live life in a more full, meaningful way. That is huge.
Of course it’s scary. Of course you are allowed to have the fear. Just remember, keeping yourself small is not helping anyone; it’s only struggling with your path.
There are people in this world who need exactly what you have. They need your gifts as those gifts are right now. And they are actively looking for you. They are wondering where on earth the person is who can give them the thing that you have to give. It’s not fair to them that you are in hiding.
You don’t need to shout from the rooftops, you don’t need to accost anyone or sell to anyone. All you need to do is put up a light so that the people who are looking for you can be drawn to you. You don’t need to shine your light for everyone. You just agree to shine for the right people. But if you don’t turn on the light, the people who need you can’t find you.
It’s not about claiming that you’re better than anyone else. It’s just about letting your light have a place too.
Even if you’ve heard the always-quoted Marianne Williamson line a hundred times, breathe it in again: “There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do.”
Okay, enough with the cheesy motivational harangue. We get it. So if biggifying isn’t going to work for me and hiding out in Smallville is a disaster, what’s the deal?
The solution (and no, it’s not “thinking medium” because that would be dorky)
The solution is what I like to call Mindful Biggification.Yes, you biggify — but you do it in a slow, measured, conscious, mindful, compassionate way.
You practice acknowledging your fear when it shows up. You practice meeting yourself where you are. You practice letting “being in the process” be the “win”, and not having to nail some external goal.
You work on letting go of the need for outside legitimacy. You work on noticing where you need grounding, support, shelter and stability. You work on discovering which parts of you are scared to shine and giving them loving attention.
Your goal is not being “big”; it is allowing yourself to step out of hiding. Your goal is not “winning”; it is being aware of your stuff without being impressed by the fact that you have it. Your goal is not to achieve some end result; it is to develop a conscious, intelligent, loving relationship with yourself.
Mindful Biggification is not about forcing yourself to confront things or being dragged kicking and screaming from your comfort zone. It’s about love. And light. And taking your time. And enjoying the ride.
Thanks for reading my manifesto
You know I don’t usually indulge much in the way of cheesiness (shining lights, gifts and all that). It just seemed right. And close to my heart. So, my friends and students and far-away readers, get out there and learn about your light. Be mindful and biggify!
P.S. This doesn’t have anything to do with anything, but I just want to share. According to the latest Selma-spotting report: my celebrity duck was apparently last seen on a billboard in Indiana of all places with my um, slogan — “It’s all about the duck” — on what turned out to be an ad for a hardware store)!
The little-known self-work practice of watching TV
Article: Working on your ‘stuff’ even when you’re watching TV
Something I love about leading workshops on procrastination (how NOT to do it, not HOW to do it) is the reminder that (a) there is just no end to all the wild things we can come up with to avoid DOING THE THING, and (b) despite all of our own little tricks, we’re really all in the same big avoidance boat.
Procrastination comes in a couple of different flavors.
It can be useful to know which one you’re in when you’re in it, though luckily we can all make use of the same concepts to work on it, shift it and turn it around . . .
Two flavors of procrastination: active vs passive
Active means you go out and find a thing and then you do that thing in order to avoid DOING THE THING. Passive is when you let a thing fill your time/space/mind so you can avoid DOING THE THING.
(And when I say DOING THE THING, I also mean just thinking about maybe eventually possibly wanting to get around to DOING THE THING).
Scrubbing under the refrigerator is active. Watching Starsky and Hutch reruns is passive. Researching a replacement widget for that thing that fell off the whatchamacallit in the garage is active. Picking lint out of your belly button is passive.
All of these are fine when you truly want to be doing them. And all are equally fine when you are consciously choosing to be in a state of “not doing”.
Otherwise, the truth is, if you’re doing them instead of making that phone call or finishing that assignment, they’re just different ways of being in avoidance.
And you know what? That’s okay too. Or at least, it’s not the end of the world. It’s not going to be any help to say (or to have me say), “Hey, stop avoiding.” You just want to know that you are avoiding. Obviously there is a reason that you’re avoiding DOING THE THING. Maybe to protect yourself from how scary it is, maybe to keep yourself from feeling overwhelmed, maybe to hide from the self-criticism that will come up if you face all the what-ifs.
Whatever the reason for your avoidance, it’s going to make you miserable because you’re in a state of resistance. You know you’re avoiding. You get mad at yourself for avoiding. And then you don’t even enjoy the avoidance mechanism. You start to think, “Oh, here I am avoiding, why can’t I just get my act together, what’s wrong with me?”. The more you fight with yourself, the deeper you go into the world of stuck.
Turning it around
When you bulldoze through the stuck, you aren’t being conscious and compassionate. Plus it will just come back to bite you on the behind. Not to mention that sometimes you just can’t bulldoze through the stuck and couldn’t even if you wanted to. Allow me to let you in on something I have learned the hard way — and keep on learning.
The trick to flowing with the stuck instead of fighting with the stuck is to make the process conscious. When you make the process conscious, at least you get to be working on your stuff in any given moment, even if that moment happens to be taking place while you’re watching that Starsky & Hutch rerun.
It’s a bit like organizing expert Julie Morgenstern’s advice to always be doing one thing. She advises that every time you move from one room to the next, you can take something with you that needs to go somewhere else. Straighten one towel. Throw something (one thing) out. Doing that one thing keeps you in the process and makes it conscious. Plus, all those “one little thing”s add up and you actually get to see changes fairly quickly.
When you catch yourself in procrastination, you want to always be doing one thing to make the unconscious conscious. So? Let’s have some examples of “one thing”s.
Doing it wrong (active procrastination mode)
Oh, I can’t believe I’m cleaning behind the stove just because I’m too chicken to make that phone call. How embarrassing and pathetic. I can’t stand thinking about it. Shut up shut up shut up.
Doing it right (active procrastination mode)
1. Acknowledge
Whoah, I’m totally cleaning because I don’t want to make this call.
2. Agree
Okay, I’m allowed to have issues around this call. Right now I don’t think I can make myself stop the cleaning without going into resistance. So I’m going to work on my stuff in a slightly different way.
3. Act
What can I say to myself right now that can help me work on my stuff and still be compassionate? What about attaching a symbolic value to the cleaning? Okay, I am consciously choosing to clean right now, because I’m feeling stuck around this call. I’m clearing out my junk and making room for more positive stuff in my life. I am scrubbing away at my own frustration and asking for some more clarity around what I’m avoiding.
Doing it wrong (passive procrastination mode)
I’m such a lazy worthless piece of sludge. I just wish it would all go away. I have no will power. Shut up shut up shut up.
Doing it right (passive procrastination mode)
1. Acknowledge
So I’m watching TV so I won’t have to admit that I haven’t made any progress on this thing.
2. Agree
I guess that’s just what’s going on for me right now. I’m dealing with a lot of fear and anxiety, which is pretty normal given my situation.
3. Act
Instead of staying in passivity, I am going to actively, consciously let myself watch TV for half an hour. And while I do it, I am going to do one thing to make it conscious. Maybe I will work on conscious breathing, with a six count inhale and exhale. Maybe I will do some stretching while I watch or give myself a foot massage. That’s my “one thing” that is going to help me be in this process instead of avoiding it, so I can work through these fear and avoidance patterns.
[NOTE: Hanging out on the “internets” is slightly more dangerous than television which has episodes — so you’ll probably want to set a loud alarm in the other room to go off after half an hour.]
What’s the point?
There will be times when procrastination will be bigger than you; when you just need to tune out and be in passive (or active) procrastination. The crucial idea is, even in a Starsky & Hutch situation, just to do it, but acknowledge it and play with it — and then at least you’re always doing one thing to bring some consciousness and love into the process.
This way you’re playing with your pattern and reminding it that it doesn’t control you. Which means you get to be working on your stuff even when you’re in it. You won’t always be DOING THE THING. Then again, you won’t always be fighting with DOING THE THING. Even when you’re deep in your stuff, you get to always be learning something about yourself. You get to always be practicing. And it gets less challenging every time.
3 steps to dissolving that mental roadblock
Three steps to dissolving that mental roadblock
When you know what to do but don’t want to do it, chances are good that something deceptively simple is getting in the way — a word.
Words can be healing. And words can be roadblocks. This is because they are not “simple” at all — they’re chock full of associations. Of course, half the time we’re not even fully aware that they are driving us up the wall. For example …
- You know that you need a plan to finally get your financial situation in order, but the word “plan” is loaded for you and subconsciously sets off your stuff. Every time you think the word you become too annoyed and stressed out to even start.
- Some clients come to me because they know it’s time to out themselves as performers, to admit to being singers and writers, or to finally “do something” with their art. But their loud negative associations with words like “artist” and “performance” slow them down to the point that they can’t truly self-identify with the thing they want to be doing.
- If, like me, you came late to the world of business, you might be dealing with regular resistance to concepts like “networking”, “marketing” and other yucky words which are setting off your internal “ewwwwwwwww” alarms.
What not to do about it
Maybe you’ve noticed this kind of thing happening. Or maybe it’s happening on a less conscious level and you just aren’t doing the thing you think you want to be doing and aren’t quite sure why.
Welcome to the club. Yup, if you’re having allergic reactions to words, you’re not alone. It’s natural and normal and happens to just about everyone. We all have issues around words and luckily, there’s a pretty decent cure.
If a word is setting off your stuff, you might be tempted to ignore it or bulldoze through it. Don’t do it! The “get over it already” school leads to repression, pain and more trouble later on. If you want to move through the current state of word “stuckification”, there are three steps you can take to get there. But first, a little bit about …
The hidden life of words
Words have a hidden emotional charge that is highly individual. Life experience adds up and gives words layers of powerful and subtle associations, attaching secret definitions that are both complex and very personal.
Take the word “plan” again. When Sunny has a problem she likes to sit down and come up with a plan. Working on the plan helps her calm down instantly and feel like she’s in charge of the situation. But when Dave even thinks about planning he gets an instant stress-headache. He goes straight into “Aaaaaaargh, a plan? What if it doesn’t work, what if I’m unhappy, then what?” mode.
From the wrong word to the right one in three steps:
Rewriting your patterns starts with rewriting the words you use to describe them.
Step 1: Define the trouble word.
If we do a little linguistic mapping taken from my clients, Sunny’s definition of PLAN looks something like this:
PLAN = [+control] [+possibility] [+options] [+choices] [+freedom] [+calm] [+spacious]
Dave’s definition, on the other hand, is more like this:
PLAN = [+commitment ] [+pigeonholing ] [+danger] [+possible unhappiness] [+stuck] [+stress]
Step 2: Define the elements that you want your word to contain.
What are the characteristics of your ideal definition or your ideal result? For example, you want to move away from [+fear] [+obligation] [+consequences] and towards something that has [+safe] [+supportive][+encouragement].
Step 3: Take action. You have two options here.
Your first option is to shift your personal association by reframing the word. When I work with clients we do some semi-wacky stuff like acupressure and visualization/perception techniques to introduce the new definition into the body-mind. But you can also do this just in your head, by actively deciding that from now on, planning doesn’t need to be about being stuck. Instead, you decide that planning is actually about mapping out your options so that you’ll never be stuck.
If reframing the word doesn’t work, go with this second option: change the word. Sometimes instead of shifting the definition, it can be easier to choose a new word that already holds the qualities and positive attributes you want your ideal definition to have.
For example, Dave’s ideal definition of a plan was similar to Sunny’s positive definition, but in his case, it turned out the word PLAN was so loaded for him that it just wasn’t worth shifting. When we played with the words, we realized that he didn’t want a PLAN at all but a TREASURE MAP instead.
How do you know it’s worked? Or that you’re done?
The wrong word keeps you from moving forward, the right word gets you excited about it. It’s a little like homeopathy, in that the problem contains the solution: “Like heals like.” You use words to heal words.
Whether you’ve redefined a word or renamed it, you’ll know it’s worked because the word itself will have a glow or a resonance for you. Having a new word with built-in yummy goodness is a way to step out of the negative cycle that was being triggered for you by your problem words.
Maybe you discover that working on your treasure map is actually kind of exciting. Marketing may not make you smile, but maybe “shining your light” will. And “inspiring people to feel” could be a lot more attractive for you than “performing”.
They’re your words. And they have power when you give them power. Have some fun with them. Find ones that don’t make you roll your eyes. And who knows, maybe a little healing will happen along the way too. Stranger things have happened.
The ‘wrongest’ question and what to do about it
Ask a stupid question, get a wrong answer
I know, I know. “There are no stupid questions”. And yet, it turns out you and I are probably asking questions every day that are getting us into trouble.
I’d hate to write one of those boring articles about the the “value of asking the right questions”, so instead, here’s a short bit on how powerful (and surprising) it can be to rephrase the wrong ones.
Especially since we probably ask the wrong ones every single day.
A wrong question (Oh, the wrongest!) and five right ones
Here is an example (courtesy of one of my wonderful clients, whom I am going to refer to as Judith) of what can happen when you ask the wrong question.
One of the habits that Judith has been working on building is that of a regular morning yoga practice. The idea was to carve out half an hour at home before breakfast. Which was yielding amazing results — until it got really, really cold, and all of a sudden it just wasn’t happening.
We talked it over and it turned out there was a wrong question being asked. It turns out Judith was asking herself: “Do I really want to crawl out of my toasty-warm, snuggly comforter and pad across the cold, cold floor just to have the satisfaction of knowing that I did yoga today?”
Wow, I don’t know about you but as far as I’m concerned there are only two possible answers to that question. It’s either a long, drawn-out “Mmmphphugrle?” followed by snoring, or a resounding “No! Leave me alone!”, followed by snoring.
This is exactly why it’s so important to be aware of your internal questions and carefully rephrase them. To save you the brainstorming process, here are five ways you can take that “wrong” question and turn it around to make it a right one.
Right question #1: relate to the benefit
Judith knows from experience that when she does yoga in the morning, everything else in her day is more in flow. She’s more likely to be in the zone at work, she’s less likely to fly off the handle at her über-sarcastic co-workers, and she only needs one cup of coffee instead of two.
“Do I want things to go smoothly today and to be completely in the zone so I can work effectively? How great would that be?”
Right question #2: change the scenario
Maybe Judith really can’t do her usual practice in the cold. That still doesn’t have to mean no practice at all. Changing the scenario is always a possibility, and asking a “right question” can help you change it.
“What if I brought all my blankets with me onto the floor this morning and did fifteen minutes of stretching and breathing? And then how about warming up for the day while dancing around to 80s music while I think about other solutions to the weather situation?”
Right question #3: offer options
Not every right question has to result in the answer “Yes, I’m doing it!”. Good questions offer options and open up possibilities.
“Would I rather push my off practice until the evening, or do I know it just won’t happen? Do I want to institute an evening practice just for the winter months, and if so, what are three things I can do to make sure it works?”
Right question #4: fix it
Some questions can actually help you figure out what action to take so that the problem you’re dealing with is no longer a problem.
“Okay, I’m giving myself the conscious, guilt-free gift of sleeping in today and I’m taking a moment to ask myself what specific actions I can take this evening to make it more comfortable for me tomorrow morning. For example, what if I set the thermostat so that it’s not so cold tomorrow morning?”
Right question #5: find out what you need
The body and mind know exactly what we need and tell us often. Usually, though, we’re either not listening or actively trying to drown it out (“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!”). Ask the right question and you’ll learn all sorts of things about what you really want and how you can get it.
“What am I needing right now? How does my need for stability and routine and clarity (all of which I get when I actually remember to get out of bed and do yoga) interact with my need to be comfortable and warm? Is there a way I can alter my practice so that it works with those needs too?”
Bonus right question (always good)
If you can’t think of a useful suggestion, try to think of ways to treat yourself with kindness. If you don’t know how, just ask yourself. It’s pretty amazing what the subconscious will come up with when you throw a question into the mix.
“What can I say to myself in this moment that would be helpful and compassionate? What is the kindest thing I can bear to hear? What can I do to work on appreciating myself despite the fact that I’m not perfect and not always in the mood for yoga and haven’t fixed everything in my life and maybe never will?”
The cost of asking the wrong question
When you ask the wrong questions, you slide back into your unconscious patterns and do things the same old way, even though you know what the results will be. When you ask the right questions, you frame your habits and patterns in a positive light. You discover that you’ve been dreading things that make you happy, avoiding things that make you successful, and fighting things that hold the key to getting what you want.
Good questions move you away from blame (“I’m such a lazy dope”) and into solution mode (“Okay, here are three things I could try”).
Of course, sometimes it’s hard to remember to ask the right question — especially when you’re sleepy and curled up in pillow land. So a useful thing to do is to ask the good questions ahead of time and then put them on a sticky note that goes on the alarm clock.
My absolute favorite question: If every moment is one of learning, what can I learn in this moment by bringing my attention to it?
And my challenge question to you: Is there one “wrong” question you’re thinking of that you suspect you ask yourself — and could it be rephrased to be a smart, compassionate, useful one?