book review: Manifesting Change by Mike Dooley

I’m a subscriber to Notes from the Universe (which, if you aren’t, you should be and can sign up here) and the notes are always these wonderfully peaceful and inspirational thoughts. So I wanted to read more from Mike Dooley, the man who writes them.

I also want to shift some things in my life right now, and I’m open to all kinds of methods. I’ve tried coaching, I’ve tried therapy, I’ve tried working my butt off, I’ve tried crowdsourcing… and while each method has brought more into my life and helped me along the way, I’m always fascinated by a new way of looking at things. So I picked up Manifesting Change: It Couldn't Be Easier. (Appealing title, no?)

At the heart of the book are these instructions:
1. Identify your end destination
2. Move in that direction
3. Let the universe figure out the rest for you.


Like he said, it can’t be easier.

There are, however, a few things you should be aware of as you embark down the manifesting path. First, you want to identify your end destination in vague but specific terms. “I am blissfully happy in a relationship with a man” instead of “I am blissfully happy in a relationship with Fred.” “I have the job of my dreams that brings me wealth and meaningful work” instead of “I have the VP of Sales position at JPMorgan that makes me $1 million a year.” The argument here is that the more you narrow down the options for what will make you happy, the harder the universe is going to have to work to put all the right pieces together to make it happen.

Second, you must move in the direction of your joy. It’s not enough to identify your end result and visualize 24 hours a day and never get off the couch. If you’re looking for a job, you must visualize, identify how you want to feel in your job, and maybe some specifics around how much you want to make or how meaningful your contribution is, and then you must go out there and, as Dooley calls it, “knock on some doors.”

[Sidenote: a friend once told me about how she had completely given up on dating and her mother told her that she can’t just give up. That love “doesn’t just walk up to your door and knock.” The next day, the refrigerator repair man walked up and knocked on the door and they’ve been married for 10 years. It’s probably easier, however, to be out in the world of people if you want to meet your soulmate.]

And then the third part is the most challenging part for me – step back, and let the universe drive for you. The more I read this book, the more I realized how much of a control freak I am, always trying to control when I’m dating, what kind of work I do, how much of an impact I have on the world around me. So I’m practicing letting go and, in the proverbial 12 step language, letting god. I’ve turned it over to the universe, so watch out! I’ll probably be married before the R train goes back through the tunnel!

an experiment in love

My ability to love is one of my greatest strengths. In the past I viewed it like a superpower and saved my love for when it’s needed (making sure I Used My Power For Good). But I didn’t allow myself to goof off with it and just have a good time. Think about it: Wonderwoman must have flown her invisible jet to the Caribbean for a weekend, and when no one was looking, I guarantee you Spiderman made trampolines out of his webs. So instead of over-focusing on Finding The One or Getting The Love I Need or Calling In Mr. Right, I decided it was time to be as loving as I can on a regular basis. You know, for kicks.


Luckily, I think I’m on the right path. I was recently told how incredibly loving I am – from someone who wasn’t even in love with me! So this is good.

The difference between how I see it now and how I’ve seen it in the past is the result. I’ve been afraid to love if there’s even the slightest chance I won’t be loved in return. But that’s just a game of chicken. Why wait for the other person to dive first? Why not just practice loving and see what happens?

I came across a couple of articles recently that really spoke to being loving instead of being loved. Robert Holden posted a lovely piece on The Daily Love that talked about what happens when two people looking for love find each other: nothing. They may find infatuation and be tempted to think it’s love, but it falls apart. “If, however,” he says, “you are committed to being the most loving person you know, you will attract someone who is committed to living on that wavelength too. And, when two people – who are committed to being the love they are looking for – finally meet, they will find love.”

(Hooray!)

Another piece that caught my eye was by Margaret Paul, Ph.D., an author who specializes in relationships. She posted ten signs that you’re really in love (and not just infatuated) and the one that stood out to me was number four:

You receive deep joy in giving to your beloved.

Her focus is more on being supportive and not begrudging your partner any of the work you do on his or her behalf, but I see it as the same thing – you get great pleasure out of loving your partner (not out of being loved by your partner).

It’s a new perspective and a new experiment, so I’ll keep you posted on how it goes.

it's all situational

Just last week I was certified in Ken Blanchard's Situational Leadership Model (II), which basically helps leaders determine where their direct reports fall on an intersecting continuum of commitment and competence.  Then, depending on where those followers fall, the leader flexes his or her style to meet the followers where they are.

The picture below helps describe this.  The D1-D4 section at the bottom relates to the follower's commitment ("will do") and competence ("can do") and the four-box at the top relates to how the leader should interact with the follower based on his or her "D" status.  You can see that if the person is a D1, the leader should use Style S1, which involves a lot of telling, directing, and "high-directive, low-supportive behavior."

It's a great model, and what I've given you is a two paragraph overview of something much more complex (and if you'd like to know more about it, email me, I'm happy to discuss) but it got me thinking:  isn't every successful interaction situational?  Aren't we always flexing ourselves to try and meet someone else where he or she is in the moment, or at least where we think he or she is at the moment?  (And if not, should we be?)

For an easy example, think about trying to figure out the best way to convince someone to see things your way.  You know you're short on time and you want to be most effective, so your two axes this time become "interaction preference" and "time":

If you're trying to convince an introvert with no time, you'd probably be more successful writing bullet points for him/her to read over than if you try to sit down and talk things through.  Similarly, if you've got an extravert with plenty of time, do it over lunch and chit chat about all the reasons it's a good idea.  An introvert with plenty of time could be given something to read or have a one-on-one discussion with time to process.  An extravert with no time might need a quick conversation outlining the major benefits.

I'm not saying this model (which I just invented) is backed with the kind of research Blanchard's is.  It's not.  And, hell, I'm willing to be wrong about what I've suggested would be successful.  But you can see my point:  how taking someone else's preferences into account can help you be more successful in whatever it is you're trying to accomplish.  However, it's making a pretty big assumption you know what the other person's preferences are.

Another example could be trying to teach adults -- do they want to absorb or do?  Do they have great knowledge or little?

Again, if I've got visual/auditory learners who know a lot, I can show them pictures and have a dialogue with them, whereas if I've got kinesthetic learners who don't know much, I need to give them an experience with whatever it is I want them to learn.

But again, I'm assuming I know what the other person's preferences are.  Where this starts to get a little wonky -- and yet, it still holds true that we flex ourselves in these situations -- is in dating.  The four-box in dating would be on the continuum of how much "he likes me" and "I like him."

If you're in the red box (he doesn't like me, I like him), you're going to behave very differently and treat him very differently than you would if you were in the orange box (he likes me, I don't like him).  The same thing is true if you're in the green box vs. the blue one.

The question here, though, is which box yields the most authentic behavior, and which one is the most "successful"?  Sadly, I have no suggestions for how to behave in each box of this "date-uational model."  I'm simply pointing out the fact that when there is something we want from another person, we're well-served to look for signs of where that person might be and try to meet him or her there.

So what can you do to try to meet someone where he or she is?  First observe their behavior and try to meet them where they are.  And, if you need to, ask questions.  (Though you may get mixed results with this one if you ask your date "where on the continuum from 'he doesn't like me' to 'he likes me' do you think you fall right now?")  Pay attention to the other person.  And be willing to admit that your approach is not the only one that works.

the power of listening

I've recently re-started a meditation practice, and I'm not particularly good at it.  My mind wanders, thinks about what I should wear today and how to get my neighbors to stop slamming the door at 6:15, but when I realize that I'm wandering, the first thing I do is bring my attention back to my listening.  I hear the sound of my breath, my DVR spinning, the garbage truck going by, the constant hum of traffic from the highway.  Just tuning in like this gives me a sense of my physical space, and reminds me that I am here, now, in the moment, in my apartment.  And, yeah, ok, my mind goes off again, worrying that I don't have anything to eat for lunch and that my knee hurts and I'll probably be hobbling like a granny when I get up.  But then I go back to the sound.

Wander, rinse, repeat.

Plenty of people claim to be bad meditators -- they can't still their minds.  And I'm with them.  I get caught in my monkey thoughts (which, oddly enough, used to continually involve Janis Joplin's "Me and Bobby McGee") but what helps me get out of them is listening.  Focusing on sound as if I'm trying to hear a mouse in my radiator.  It takes time and attention, but I think the space it's giving me between my reactions and my responses is worth the effort.

Julian Treasure is a huge sound-lover.  He spoke at TED in the video below about the power of listening.  I think about it especially in relation to dating and meeting new people.  How many times have you been sitting with a stranger, hearing what he or she is saying, but really focusing on what you want to say next?  Formulating your charming, witty, pointed response without fully taking in what your date (or coworker or instructor) has said.  The process of real, deep listening can be a connector.  It can bring you together with this stranger -- or this family member, or friend, or unintentionally-door-slamming neighbor -- in a way that hearing just can't do.



Steven Covey, in his book Seven Habits of Highly Effective People, said "Seek first to understand, then to be understood."  And Julian Treasure says that we have to "listen consciously to live fully."

I totally agree.  Sign me up.

be a people trainer

It's a subtle truth that I've come to understand:  people treat us the way they do because we allow them to do so.

Now, I'm not talking about total strangers who give you attitude on the subway or those terrible acts of random violence that happen to people.  Those are different.  And I'm not getting all Secret-y on you and saying that you make your own reality, but I am strongly suggesting that you have a hand in it.

Here's how I've seen it in my own life:  many years ago, I was in a friendship that wasn't particularly healthy.  We counted on each other for moral support, but weren't always as clear as we could (or should) have been about how we wanted to be supported -- we never trained each other on this.  So we did for each other what we would have wanted done for us, and sometimes it was right and sometimes it was wrong.  There were times I tried to jolly her out of a sadness when I should have just let her cry.  There were times she tried to logically convince me that my situation wasn't as bad as it was, when all I wanted was someone to hear my pain.  Nothing inherently wrong with any of this except that we sat on our feedback.  Instead of saying, "Right now, Kate, all I want is to be sad," my friend would get angry or lash out at me.  Instead of me saying, "I just want to be irrational right now and still be loved," I would hurry to get her off the phone and just cry by myself.

It got to be craptastic.

I can't speak for my friend, but over time, my resentment grew, and my patience eroded. Why can't she just give me what I need? I kept thinking.  We ended our friendship because we didn't know how to share what we needed, and neither one of us could train the other in this area.  (In fairness to us both, there were many other factors that contributed to the demise of our friendship, but this was a big one for me.)

I've been thinking about this a lot lately, since my sister is raising two little boys, and I'm still looking for Mr. Right.  (They seem unrelated, but bear with me.)  My sister is "training" her little boys to grow up and participate in society.  She's teaching them "please" and "thank you" and reminding them not to put their feet on the table while Nana is eating or not to pull Maisy's tail.  And they take this information because, well, she's the mama, and it's backed up by daddy.  That's one kind of people training.  (Generally, best reserved for little people.)

The other kind of training is related to making a relationship work.  For example, I know that I am not the most flexible and spontaneous person in the world.  I long to be, but in my heart I know I'm pretty square.  So it's a good idea, especially if I'm dating someone who is less schedule-bound than I am, to make it clear that I don't care what we do or where we go, but I'm most comfortable when I know what time and where to meet.  Training him to treat me in a particular way.  (Or, if you take issue with the concept of "training" a date, offering him the opportunity to treat me in the way that is most comfortable for me.)

Why is any of this important?  Because if you don't teach people how to treat you, they'll treat you in their own default way.  And that means you're looking for a needle -- the person who will naturally treat you in the way you want to be treated -- in a much larger haystack.  And in a city of 8 million straws, who has time for that?

the math of dating

I read a cute little article in checkmatemagazine by Catherine Lowell that I thought I would share with you:

"One day in 1999, computer scientist Tristan Miller decided that he would never, ever find a girlfriend. As a tech genius with a sense of humor, he decided to do a comprehensive analysis to show why this might be the case.

His conclusion was simple: the math simply wasn’t in his favor. Using census data from 1998, he concluded that there was a 1 in 18,726 chance of finding “the one.”

Below is a simplified version of his logic.

Number of people on earth:   5,592,830,000

Number of females on earth:  2,941,118,000

Number of females in developed countries:  605,601,000

Number of females aged 18-25 in developed countries:  65,299,083

Number of those females who are “beautiful” (two standard deviations above the norm):  1,487,838

Number of those females who are intelligent, too (one standard deviation above the norm):  236,053

Number of those females who are also single (assuming 50% of women are single):  118,027

Number of interested women (assuming Tristan was one standard deviation above the woman’s average):  18,726

See his math in Why I Will Never Have a Girlfriend.

What Can This Mean!?

It means that if poor Tristan went on a blind date with a new girl every week, he might have to wait 67 years before he found the girl of his dreams.

What You Do!?
1.) Start dating at a very young age.
2.) Curse fate for handing you a statistical trap.
3.) Or… Chill out.

Tristan’s analysis exemplifies why looking for perfection in a partner is an exercise in futility. If you look for someone who is the top percentile of the top percentile, it will take you 67 years to find out that it’s hard to satisfy every box on your checklist.

Besides, imperfections make life much more interesting. Remember what Yogi Berra said: “If the world was perfect, it wouldn’t be.” An imperfect person might actually be the perfect person for you.

It’s not the best idea to go looking for a better version of yourself. If you work to become the best person you can be, dates will find you.

If you’re still discouraged… you can always apply to be Tristan Miller’s significant other."

how my iPhone makes me feel more disconnected

I now have the internet at my fingertips 24/7. My adorable little phone (aptly named "Spankie") has ushered me into the 21st century, and now I know how the other 99% live. I can text, tweet, post to facebook, upload photos, and otherwise reach out and touch someone at any hour of the day (except while I'm in the subway).

And I haven't felt this disconnected since I can't remember when.

Texting is a slippery slope for me. It's a great way to passively reach out and drop a funny line or thought on someone's radar without putting too much energy or thought into it. I can share a link, tell a joke, or otherwise flit in and out of a friend's life in a matter of seconds. I sometimes have full conversations with someone over text, and those conversations are well thought out, carefully constructed, and usually ridiculously funny.

I'm sure nobody would be surprised to hear that texting is on the rise. According to a 2010 Nielsen study, every age group is texting more than they were the previous year, even those of us in the 35-44 category:

And the trend is only going to go up, so I feel like a bit of a Luddite even having an issue with this. But I do.

I don't really feel like I'm getting to know the people on the other end of my text-line any better as I text with them. There's so much less revealed. People have time to think, react, and respond before sharing their impulses or insights. There is also much less clarity in texting. The tone of voice -- so crucial in spoken communication -- is completely gone, and the context -- which usually helps to set the tone of an email -- is also missing. So all I get in a text is the nugget, the core of the message. Which is fine if that message is "I'm running late," or "Just wanted to say hi."

But what if that message is something more complicated, like "I can't make it tonight" or "what's the deal with [insert any topic]?" The brevity and lack of intonation make it difficult for me to see where the other person is coming from, and makes it so much easier to throw my own interpretations onto the message. (Which is never a good thing.)

I know I need to get used to it, but for me, true connection comes voice to voice, if not face to face. I want to hear the hemming and hawing. I want to know when there's a sigh. Emotions, mistakes, and non-verbal noises help me feel more human and more connected to others. I've thought about instituting a no texting policy for a month, just to see how it goes, but I think I've gotten so used to texting that I'd miss it if it was gone. The secret is to blend both, and to set boundaries around how much I'm willing to text. But how much is too much? And how much is not enough?

When I figure out what that balance is, I'll let you know. Or if you want to find out, you can always call me.

on harmony. no, wait, I mean patience.

This month has been about harmony, but I’ve been so immersed in patience that I’m not going to pretend to write about harmony when, in fact, I’m writing about patience. Because I know you’ll see right through that. (And who has the patience for that?)

Before I get started, I should tell you that I see patience as a skill, and a two-pronged one at that – there’s long term patience and short term patience. And I’m pretty good at short-term patience. I don’t get too bent out of shape by standing in a line or waiting for the train traffic ahead of us to clear. Because there’s little to nothing I can do about the situation, and my anxiety and frustration isn’t going to fix it. And even if getting all worked up would change the situation, it’s rarely worth the effort. So I read my book, or hum a tune, or look for cute boys and let the situation resolve itself.

Same thing with teaching. When I’m with a student or a client who doesn’t understand what I’m trying to say, I don’t get all huffy and defensive and try to force them to understand me, simply by saying it MORE SLOWLY AND LOUDLY. I take the time to find out what they don’t understand, and then pitch it to them in a way that makes more sense to them. Our mantra at my old company was “if you don’t understand me, that’s my fault.”

Long-term patience, however, has always been my Achilles’ heel. Because I see myself as an agent of change, as capable of writing my own future, when I’m faced with a long-term patience situation, I feel like there’s something I CAN do about it. So I want to get going and do whatever it is the situation seems to be demanding from me. And I start to mutter curses and shuffle around like an angry crazy person with a big bag of smelly cans and bottles on the subway.

You know, because that totally helps.

I’ve been in a number of situations this month that have forced me to see the parallels between short-term and long-term patience. When other people – lovers, family members, bosses, roommates, whoever – are making decisions, there really is little I can do to hurry them up. As much as I want to pick up the phone and say, “I’m ready, let’s go!” it’s not necessarily going to help the other person make a decision. Will it tip them positively in my favor? Maybe. Maybe not. And so the waiting becomes an extended act of short-term patience.

Now, I don’t want to say that patience is about sitting back and not making things happen, because I don’t believe that and it’s not the way I want to live my life. But I do think it’s about taking my little greyhound of a mind off the racetrack and putting a friendly little bulldog or chihuahua on the loop instead. Something more entertaining to look at and run with while I breathe more and stress less.

how secrecy can kill intimacy

A million years ago I worked with a very smart therapist on some problems I was having with my boyfriend. She caught on quickly to the fact that instead of telling him how I felt, I was just smothering my anger until it was way too late to deal with the problem at hand. I was hoarding small infractions and stockpiling insults. By the time I started working with her, I didn't want to look at my boyfriend, let alone make out with him. And on top of that, I felt guilty about not wanting to smooch him anymore!

She told me something that I've hung onto all these millennia: nothing kills intimacy faster than secrecy. And the things you're keeping secret don't have to be big, guilt-inducing, gut-wrenching secrets. They can simply be things like not telling someone your feelings were hurt by the way he assumed you would do the dishes, or that you were furious at how he left his shoes in the middle of the floor even though you asked him not to a billion times because you trip on them on the way to the bathroom in the middle of the night.

The more of these unvoiced issues I sat on, the further and further away my boyfriend drifted. But it was hard to feel like my concerns were valid in the moment. Did he mean to leave his shoes there? And did I really have a right to be angry about him being forgetful? It took a lot of courage for me to start to see that what I wanted mattered as much as what he wanted, and that if I mentioned my concerns at the moment they happened I was only annoyed, not angry. Luckily, he was receptive to my efforts to get things off my chest before they festered, and things improved.

In the long run, the relationship didn't last, but I was reminded of this lesson earlier this month when I went to visit a friend across the country. My friend is in her first trimester (read: barfy) and a mom to a toddler (read: exhausted) and trying to buy a home (read: overwhelmed). When I booked my ticket she wasn't pregnant yet, so we thought it would be a fun-filled, sunshiney visit. But as my departure date approached, she was sounding more and more worn out, and I was beginning to worry that instead of being a fun addition to her house for the weekend, I would be yet another thing she would have to take care of.

But I sat on that. She wanted to see me, right? She was the one who was exhausted and overwhelmed, why should I worry that she didn't want to see me when everything she said made it sound like she did? I wouldn't be more exhausting, would I? I vowed to myself that I would not be a hassle... and then worried silently that I would.

The day before my flight I had worked myself into such a tizzy of non-communication that I finally had to call her and get it off my chest. "I'm worried that I'll be a burden, that you won't have any fun with me, and that you'll barf on me!"

"Well, I'm worried that you won't have any fun with me, I won't feel well enough to play with you, and that I'll barf on you!"

As soon as the words were out of our mouths, we were laughing again, saying that we would be fine. Prior to connecting, though, there was tension. We were both fearful that we would be the cause of pain to the other. And the more we over-thought it without reaching out to one another, the more secrecy we had, and the less close we felt.

Did she barf on me? No. Did she feel well enough to play with me the whole time? No. But I was prepared for that, and connected to her, so it all worked out just fine. It's amazing what obstacles intimacy can overcome.

What I learned about mind

August was the month of “smarts, ideas for the sake of ideas, connection, words, and learning.” Qualities I condensed for the sake of brevity into the category of Mind. And by putting my mind on Mind, a very interesting thing happened in the universe around me.

I’ve always said that my ideal mate will be Smart, Funny, and Self-Aware. These are my dealbreakers. If you’re not smart, funny, and able to display a modicum of self-awareness, we’re not a match. And smart has meant a variety of different things over the years. Book smart, street smart, dorky, nerdy, incredible at whatever it is you do, brilliant, genius… any of these would be lovely. I don’t have a baseline requirement for smarts (no minimum IQ or SAT score) but I know smart when I talk to it.

During August, I met a couple of incredibly smart men. One was book smart and in the top of his field, one was a super-brainiac and a top percentile IQ/MENSA type, one was quick-witted and sharp. And yet not one of them was right.

My interaction with these men made me realize a couple of things:

First, any time someone makes a conversation out of how smart he is, that makes me wonder how smart he actually is. This was a good reminder, as I have periodically found myself making mention of dorky things I’ve done or smartypants facts about myself. (“I threw the curve on the freshman year vocabulary test!” “I did second year calculus in high school!”) Turns out? Totally unattractive! We know smart when we see it, not when we’re told all about it. It’s one thing to drop an accomplishment or two into the conversation, but if we’re talking about your application to MENSA and just how many tests you had to ace to get in, I might have to fall asleep a little.

Second, balance is key. Being on a date with someone who is smart without being funny is like going to a really long, boring lecture where the professor may or may not try to kiss you at the end. Similarly, going out with someone who is smart without being self-aware is like listening to a recording of Stephen Hawking – fascinating, but after a while you want to turn the documentary off and talk about something stupid like Spongebob Squarepants or farts.

People – especially people we date and don’t choose – are excellent mirrors for us. I learned from these dates how important it is to also be modest, to listen well, to revel in what makes you happy (even if that’s nerdiness) but to always make sure you’re reaching out to the other person. Making a connection. Because you can only date alone in your mind.

shhhhh! this contract is silent!

I was challenged recently to look at my silent contracts -- you know, the agreements we're abiding by that we've never really acknowledged as agreements. Roles we may not have signed up for but that we're playing nonetheless. Things like being a "good daughter" or "the fat sister" or "the problem solver." Some of them may be roles we want (like "the smart one" or "the pretty one") and some of them may be Sisyphean burdens that we roll up the hill of our lives day in and day out (like "the smart one" or "the pretty one").

The thing about silent contracts is that sometimes they're so silent, we don't even know we have them. I spent 30 years playing the role of "peacemaker" and "perfect daughter" not realizing that my family didn't need peace, and actually preferred me with a couple of flaws. The contracts or the roles we play can be positive, but usually they're sneakier than that. We can have silent contracts with ourselves (in fact, one could argue that's the only person they're with) but usually they're experienced in relationship to someone else.

My specific challenge? To look for places where the silent contract of being "the single one" may, in fact, be keeping me single.

Much to my surprise, I found a few.

First: Two of my best friends are married to each other. They have two sons, and five seats in their car. When they go on an adventure, there's always a seat for me. But not for my boyfriend. Is this keeping me single?

Second: My sister and brother-in-law say that I'm the only non-parental visitor that they can really tolerate. They think I'm cool and easy to get along with. But what about my boyfriend? Could he live up to that, too?

Third: The bedroom in my apartment is only big enough for a double bed. (Any bigger and you wouldn't be able to get around the foot of the bed into the rest of the house.) It gets crowded with someone else sleeping in there. Is that keeping me single?

These revelations in and of themselves are somewhat meaningless. The real question is what I want to do with this information. I'm certainly not going to stop being friends with my friends, or become an unacceptable houseguest for my sister. But I'm acknowledging that there are things to gain and things to lose whenever we give up a silent contract. I think, in this case, the gains would enough outweigh the losses. Which makes it worthwhile for me to still look for a partner.

Watch out, sis.

the difference a year can make

Fifty one weeks ago, I went to Midsummer Night's Swing at Lincoln Center on a date. I had always wanted to go, and that night they were teaching the hustle, which (as far as I could tell) seemed fairly harmless. It was a second or third date, so I knew the guy a little, but not terribly well, and I was a little concerned about looking like an idiot.

I'm not a great dancer. I'm very white, and I think I might lack a joint or two. But I love to move. Aerobics? Yes, please. Running? Sure, why not. Kickboxing? You bet! So dancing is something I've wanted to do ever since I moved to the city, and (can you believe it?) I've never really been.

So my date (who, I discovered later, LOVED to dance, and probably would have hustled the hell out of the night) wandered around the periphery of the dance floor with me, and we never bought tickets. We mildly shook our booties and kindasorta hustled, but there was really no dancing to speak of.

Had he gone there without me (which, for the record, he wouldn't have), I feel confident that he would have bought a ticket and danced. And I envied him that.

Fast forward 51 weeks. It's Midsummer Night's Swing again, only this time that date is no longer in the picture. I've invited a number of friends to join me for the evening, but none are available. So I go again, this time all by myself. Because I want to be the kind of person who, when she finds herself faced with something she has always wanted to do, doesn't require an escort.

And that same embarrassment, that same reluctance to get up there and move my body crept back in. The gremlin inside kept saying awful things like, "Don't go out there; everyone will know you're alone. They'll wonder why you have no friends. They'll pity you. It's safer to stay off the dance floor. Save your $20. Just go home. You came to the event. That counts. Now just leave."

For easily 15 minutes, I wandered around Damrosch Park, watching the guy give a dance lesson, watching everyone have fun trying to do 80's hip-hop moves (which most of them really couldn't) and envying them. Why couldn't I just get in there and do it, too?

Finally, after WAY more agony than was required, I bought my ticket, checked my bag, and got on the dance floor.

I want to say it felt triumphant, but really, it didn't.

I'm glad I got over my anxiety, I'm glad I put the notch in my belt, and I'm glad that I showed myself that I can do things alone. But I'm also willing to recognize that there are some things that are just more fun when done with people you know or care about. And I think dancing to 80's covers while avoiding the flailing limbs of people even whiter than you might just be one of those things.

the opposite of surrender

There is an element to surrender that's about capitulation and letting go of the expectation that things are going to go your way. And that can be a beautiful thing if you're surrendering, say, an addiction or a destructive habit. It's another thing all together, though, to surrender something important to you.

When I am challenged by someone wanting to change a belief of mine, I will almost certainly consider the other person's argument. Let's say someone wanted to tell me that coaching doesn't work, or that Sarah Palin would be a good president. I would disagree, reach out to his or her side to find common ground -- i.e., times when coaching doesn't work, or times when Sarah looks cute in a suit -- and then return to my own idea to reexamine it in light of the new perspective. Sometimes I change my mind, and sometimes I don't.

If I were to surrender my belief, though, immediately upon questioning, or just because it was questioned, I would be chipping away at the collection of beliefs I have that make up me. Some of them I'm willing to discard or surrender, but others are too valuable to me.

What I'm saying is that there's a time for surrender, and there's a time for digging in your heels and standing up for what's important to you.

So how do I know when to surrender, and when to hold fast? I make mistakes. I surrender something I shouldn't, once, and decide not to do it again next time. Or I hold fast to an idea far longer than it serves me. So I try really hard not to beat myself up for my mistakes because without them, I wouldn't know better the next time. I also try to surround myself with people who understand that I am continuing to grow, and that being around me will occasionally lead to experimentation and failure.

And it will also, undoubtedly, lead to great success.

book review: The Five Love Languages

I can't believe I haven't written about this yet.

Seriously. How could I have gotten this far without it?

There's an amazing book that will change your life forever if you go out and read it. How do I know? As the saying goes, I'm not just the president, I'm also a member.

Gary Chapman has written an incredible book about the ways in which people express and feel love called The Five Love Languages. At a certain point, the book gets a little more God-and-Jesusy than I like, but before it gets there, he shares with us some observations about the way people love that have changed the way I both interpret people's behavior and express my own feelings.

Chapman's argument is that there are five major styles -- languages, if you will -- that people use to express their love. And those, in turn, influence the way people feel loved by other people.

Those five languages are these:

1. Acts of Service

Some people will DO THINGS for those they love. They will take on the chores they know disgust you, or go out of their way to perform a task for you, whether you've asked them to do it or not.

My father is a perfect example of this. Once, when I was incredibly sick (and a mere two blocks from the doctor's office), I called him hoping for some sympathy. My father, instead of telling me how much he loved me and letting me know I would be ok, immediately offered to get into the car, drive to where I was, and take me to the doctor. He was more than willing to take 3 hours out of his day to find me, chauffeur me to wherever I needed to go, and then go home. Because he understands love to be about DOING.

2. Words of Praise

Some people are moved to show their feelings by saying nice things. It could be as simple as "you look pretty" or as complex as a sonnet on the shine of your hair, it doesn't matter. Words of praise people will TELL you how much they love you.

I had a boyfriend once who fell into this category. He sent me the most romantic letters, poems, and emails. He spared no opportunity to speak to me with words that made me smile.

3. Quality Time

Still, others prefer stopping their world and making spending time with you the most valuable thing they could be doing at the moment. To these people, it doesn't necessarily matter what you do, just as long as you are BEING together.

I once had a boyfriend who found that time on the phone to his family was also quality time. What mattered to him wasn't the amount of time, but rather the intention behind the time -- making space to really connect with another person -- that mattered.

(This was a good thing, as he happened to live across the country from me, too.)

4. Physical Touch

These people are the huggers. They're the hand-holders, neck-nuzzlers, and back touchers. They're the ones who seek reassurance and connection through physicality. And it's not just about Naked Time. It could be sitting on the couch with his feet in your lap, or patting him on the head as you walk out the door. These people FEEL love physically.

5. Gifts

Gift people like to give things -- expensive or free -- to those they love. They collect and hand over presents that the object of their affection has either requested or not.

My mother is a perfect example of this. She always plies us with food or "something I saw at the store that made me think of you." I remember growing up and taking long car trips -- my mother would GIVE us a little something to unwrap every hour.

Odds are that you fall most strongly into one category or another. That doesn't mean you have to speak only one language, but that your main mode is likely to be only one of the above.

Me? I'm all about gifts. I love to give people presents, and I've been known to squeal with glee when someone gives me something that made them think about me while they were out and about. But I'm also into words of praise. After that, I'm probably acts of service, and then physical touch. Quality time is very difficult for me to understand -- why wouldn't you want to be with me all the time?? So it's best for me to go out with men who are either gifters or who understand the value of gifts to me.

And this is where it gets cool. When you know the five languages, you can choose to express yourself in any language, not just the one that makes the most sense to you. If you know your partner feels love through quality time, you can make an appointment with him or her. Conversely, you can interpret your partner's behavior -- wanting to spend a night with you -- as his or her way of expressing love.

Let's go back to my father for a minute. When I called him, I was looking for words of praise -- "You'll be ok," "I love you," that kind of thing. But my father hasn't read this book and doesn't know that his way of expressing and my way of feeling loved aren't the same. So it was up to me to interpret his act of service as love. Once I realized that he was sharing his love in the only language he spoke, I was able to hear how much he cared.

Similarly, with my Quality Time boyfriend. When I realized that his language was one I couldn't comprehend, I told him about the five styles. I told him I was more a gifts/words of praise kind of girl, and he tried to modulate his behavior to meet me there. And I tried to see his desire to spend time together as his way of saying he loved me.

This has been an incredible tool for me in understanding why people behave the way they do. Why, when all that matters to me is that you tell me I'm beautiful, are you always taking out the trash? Who cares about watching TV on Friday nights -- can't you just bring me home a tootsie roll?

And one of the really neat things to look at is whether or not you use your own love language on yourself. If you're a gifter, do you allow yourself to buy that sweater you can't stop thinking about? If you like words of praise, what kind of things do you say to the mirror? When do you schedule the quality time with yourself?

Forgive my oversight in not having posted this sooner. There's still time -- go out and buy this book! (See? I'm trying to gift it to you right now!)

what are you chasing?

I live in New York, where it seems like everybody is chasing something. And I worry that people don't really know what they're chasing, and how their thoughts and behavior are impacting their journey.

Take me, for example, back when I was acting. I was chasing The Big Dream -- except I wasn't specific about what that meant to me. I just wanted to "be an actor in New York." Well, that's actually absurdly easy. Get a headshot, go on an audition, and voila! You're an actor in New York.

So I sat down to get more specific, and I realized that my goal was "to make a living acting in New York." Then I was getting somewhere. I had a clearer destination, and could focus my energy more tightly. Except that I was missing a piece -- how I wanted to be or feel while I was pursuing that goal. Because, as it played out, while I was chasing Making a Living as an Actor in New York, I was unhappy. I was working a job that made me want to stab people in the face, I felt like I had no time for anything that wasn't theatre, I was comparing myself to other actors (and coming up short) and, in general, I just didn't like the way I felt about myself.

I was, as it turned out, chasing the wrong thing, like the dog chasing the mailman. (Unless, of course, the mailman is delivering Omaha Steaks, but in my case he wasn't.)

It wasn't until I got specific about what I saw as success that I realized I was on the wrong path.

The same thing has happened with dating. I have defined and redefined (and redefined) (oh, and redefined) what I consider desirable characteristics in a guy. The three core qualities -- funny, smart, and self-aware -- stay the same, but the fourth quality always changes. Sometimes it's kind or thoughtful, sometimes it's simply ready, but as I have more experience, I can get more specific about what I want, and again, how I want to feel while pursuing it.

This last piece is often overlooked because we're not taught about feelings. But I think it's of the utmost importance. If you're ok with, say, pursuing a career in acting to the exclusion of everything else, that's great -- but be clear with yourself how long you're willing to do that. A month? A year? Your whole life? There are trade offs to everything, and making sure that what you're giving up is worth what you're getting is incredibly important.

The final thing I encourage people to look at surrounding success is how you will know you've made it. Often times, people get so wrapped up in the struggle of "making it" that the small successes they've had along the way no longer matter -- that big achievement is just around the corner waiting to be reached. And that's when success becomes a trap. Because as I know from first hand experience, it's easy to be more attracted to the pursuit of it than the enjoyment of it.

So to avoid the perpetual pursuit, define what it will look like when you've reached your goal. When will you finally consider yourself successful? And does that necessarily mean there is nothing left to achieve? I find that goal-setting is super-useful in this kind of work because it gives you a number of small victories to celebrate as you reach out for things that satisfy and fulfill you.

And really, is using the word "success" even useful? For so many of us (myself included) there is a sticky quality to it, one that implies comparison, scarcity, lack, and an overall "not good enough to be successful" quality. If you fall into that category (welcome!), then perhaps simply "happiness" is a better choice of words for you than "success."

To wrap up, if you haven't thought about it yet, I urge you (whether you live in New York or not) to take a minute (or hell, a year) and get really clear not just about what you want, but how you'll know when you're there.

In a nutshell:

1. Define success

2. Be willing to be flexible about that definition and change it as your circumstances change

3. Be clear about who/how you want to be as your pursue success

4. Know how it will feel when you're successful, and be open to that feeling

5. Use a different word if "success" or "successful" brings up negative feelings for you.

intimacy, and how to get more of it

Many moons ago I went to a talk at the 92nd Street Y Tribeca on what science can teach you about falling in love. And the presenter, Robert Epstein, brought audience members on stage (myself and my friend included), asked them a bunch of benchmarking questions about the stranger they were with ("How close do you feel to this person? How much in love with this person are you? How attracted are you to this person?") and then put them/us through a series of exercises that they had shown drew people together.

And while it was hard to honestly answer questions about a total stranger in front of a room full of total strangers, I have to say that the exercises (if not the mortification of going through them together publicly) did draw me closer to the random stranger on stage with me.

As part of the takeaway from the event, they gave us a copy of the magazine in which the presenter's article appeared, and I recently unearthed it from my kitchen table. You can get a snapshot of the article here, on Scientific American's website, or you can google Robert Epstein and see what you get.

Here, however, are some highlights that I think are interesting, useful, and totally applicable right now -- not just with a romantic partner, but with anyone with whom you want to feel more intimate.

Ten things that make us feel more intimate:

1. Arousal -- not just sex, you dirty birds. Any kind of physical exertion or exposure to dangerous situations increases intimacy, say researchers. So if you want to get close, take your date on the Cyclone at Coney Island. He'll either love you on the spot or never want to see you again.

2. Proximity and Familiarity. When you let someone repeatedly invade your personal space, that increases feelings of closeness. Because, well, you're close.

3. Similarity. Sure, opposites attract, but likes ignite! (I made that up.) Personally, I'm discovering that going out with guys whose parents are still together (as mine are) is making a difference in our relationships. And shared values, senses of humor, and attractiveness keep the playing fields even.

4. Humor. This one's obvious, I think.

5. Novelty. Doing something new makes us more vulnerable, and vulnerability leads more quickly to intimacy. One of the things I do when planning a date is trying to go somewhere I've never been before. (Which, even in a city of six gajillion restaurants, can be surprisingly difficult!)

6. Removing Inhibitions. Yeah, ok, a glass of wine helps, but a bottle of wine doesn't. People who have difficulty being vulnerable and opening up often misuse alcohol in pursuit of that feeling of intimacy. So watch out!

7. Kindness, Accommodation, and Forgiveness. "Feelings of love can emerge quickly when someone deliberately changes his or her behavior -- say, by giving up smoking or drinking -- to accommodate our needs." I find it adorable when I tell guys I don't eat meat and they then order something vegetarian when we have dinner together -- even though I make it clear that they're free to eat whatever they want!

8. Touch and Sexuality. The obvious caveat applies here -- while touch and sensuality bring people closer together, people (mostly women, unfortunately) have a tendency to confuse sex with love. The author recommends even just getting very near to someone without actually connecting -- kind of a romantic I'm Not Touching You.

9. Self-Disclosure. People tend to bond when they share secrets. I love asking guys I go out with to tell me a secret. The only trick is coming up with one I'm willing to share. A recent date of mine once said, when I asked him if I could ask him a question, "You can ask me anything you want; you just have to be willing to answer it yourself."

10. Commitment. "People whose commitments are shaky interpret their partners' behavior more negatively, for one thing, and that can be deadly over time." I totally get this. When a guy makes it clear to me that he likes me, it's easier for me to forgive his not calling when he says he will. (See #7)

So go ahead, try these out and see how they play out. Grab your man/woman/dog/postal worker/neighbor's cousin's milkman/random stranger on the street and try these with him or her.*

*just kidding! try them with someone you know and actually want to have more intimacy with. duh.

cultivate the good

The other day I was in a session with a client who has a very strong habit of focusing on the negative and totally disregarding the positive. It's a familiar habit, one that I have definitely engaged in myself, and one that leads to nothing but bleakness, sadness, and truly bad train karma.*

I did what I could to help my client to see that focusing on the negative is only going to bring more negative (boooooooo!), and that focusing on the good is only going to bring more good (hooray!). One of the tactics we tried was imagining that she was living in a sci-fi world where goodness was dying out. And that she was one of the few people left who could cultivate and protect goodness. So any time she saw something with even the faintest tinge of good to it, it was her responsibility to take that goodness, plant it in a garden, and tend to it.

She lit up with this idea, recognizing that "goodness" was not a judgment about whether or not an achievement was reached or someone was "worthy" of being deemed good, but rather a quality that could inherently exist inside something -- a situation, a person, herself...

So I closed the session feeling like I had cultivated some good, once again proving to myself that I do an excellent job of living what I teach.

And then the next day came.

I found myself getting twitchy about not having heard back from a guy I am dating. And when I catch myself doing that, I immediately call my sister (my cucumber cheerleader) because I know she's good at easing my twitch.

And, without going into too much detail, do you know what I was doing? Focusing on all the negative, and completely disregarding the positive! With blinders on, I was zeroing in on all the things that seemed "wrong" to me, and paying absolutely no attention to the things that were there to inspire me or give me hope that he was, in fact, interested!

Boy did I feel like a dummy.

But instead of focusing on how stupid I felt about not catching myself doing something it was so easy for me to see my client doing, I looked at how awesome it was that a) I did catch myself doing it, and b) I called someone who could help me get back on my path.

Sure, I could use this experience to prove to myself that I'm a horrible coach and can't possibly offer anything of value since I can't live it myself, or I can recognize (and celebrate!) the fact that I'm human, that I'm living it, too, and that life happens moment to moment.

And every triumph is worth a celebration.

(hooray!)

*the best way to cultivate good train karma? Focus on the times the train comes into the station right when you get there, and ignore the times you spend hours and hours waiting in the sauna for the train to finally come and then not be going to your borough. **

** I haven't gotten really good at this yet, obviously.

our lovely, imperfect selves

I was recently reading a post on the Sunday at Noon blog, in which matchmaker Marni Galison talks about how easy it is to fall into the trap of cutting off potential dates because they're not perfect. She says:

In most aspects of our lives, we can accept that the people we love are
flawed human beings but naturally we still love them anyway. Despite those
flaws, we recognize the qualities that make them the unique, wonderful people
they are and we cherish having them in our lives.

But for some reason, when it comes to dating, the minute we see that a new
love interest is less than perfect we rush to judgment. And often that judgment
is equivalent to the Spanish Inquisition – no one stands a chance from thereon
in.

She goes on to encourage us to forgive each other for not being perfect, which might make dating a little bit easier. (See the whole article here.)

I'd like to take that action even one step further -- I'd like to encourage us to forgive ourselves for not being perfect. When we accept, embrace, and even revel in our own imperfections ("that's right, I can be needy sometimes!") we are likely to be more forgiving of perceived shortcomings in others.

One of the things I try to do to give myself perspective on perfection and the challenges that other people face is simple: I put myself in their shoes. Given their situations, backgrounds, friends, fears, needs, etc., how would I act? Would I be different? And if so, can I at least understand better why they are they way they are?

It's a carry-over from my acting days when I used to put on all those things on behalf of a character, and I find it expands my generosity and patience with others immensely. (Which can come in handy when one is dating...)

on broken hearts

My friend John is a fabulous writer, and he recently wrote a piece about how to get over a broken heart. (The crux of his argument? Pina Coladas.) And, while his suggestion of bellying up to the bar isn't necessarily something I'd recommend to my readers (no offense, John) the way he describes the strength of the human heart really spoke to me, so I thought I'd share it with you:

"It helps to think of your heart as a piece of steel. Not chocolate or flesh or crepe paper. A shiny ball of steel. Which has a breaking point. But have you ever seen steel forged? It's heated in a volcano hot furnace until it glows white. It's so hot, the hard steel is malleable. Then it's hammered and hammered and hammered. Smashed into shape. Two pieces are clobbered to form one whole piece and then the steel is dumped into water. Once it's cooled, it's as hard as... well, you know. I've had my heart broken many, many times. And each time, I ended up stronger. My furnace? A Pina Colada. Maybe some Patsy Cline. A new friend, if just for that moment."

(You can read the rest of the article here.)

It's easy to think that you're not up to a challenge, or that you've been hurt so badly that you'll never recover. But keeping this image of an invulnerable heart in your mind, remembering that no matter what you throw at it, it will only get stronger... well, it works for me.

getting rid of old (icky) beliefs in three easy steps!

Step 1: Identify the old (icky) belief
Step 2: Pick a new (non-icky) one to take its place
Step 3: Give it a whirl

The end.

Ok, ok, I'm oversimplifying, but only sort of.

Step 1: Identifying the old (icky) belief

How do you know when something you believe isn't serving you anymore? Here are a couple of ideas:

-- Listen to what your body has to say about it. Do you get a sinking feeling when you think that thought? Do your shoulders climb up to your ears? Would you rather just crawl back into bed forever? Or maybe you want to punch someone? All of these are good indicators that a belief isn't serving you. Even just a deadness or a flatness in response to a belief or thought can highlight an outdated (e.g. icky) belief.

-- Ask trusted friends or family members. (But only the ones you're ok with being right.)

-- Explore and define your belief. If you're thinking "I'm not meeting men because I have high standards," define each word carefully. What do you mean by "meeting" and "men" and "high standards"? Write out full definitions of what these words mean to you -- without consulting the dictionary. (Unless you wrote it.)

-- Gather evidence about your belief and its opposite. If your belief is "Taking time for myself is bad," look in your life and see where that is true and where that is false. (Again, be sure to explore and define your belief first.)

Step 2: Picking a new (non-icky) belief to take its place

This one seems harder than it is. Since beliefs are about how you interpret a situation, you're in charge of them. Yes, of course, you learned something was "true" when you were a kid -- and it may, in fact, have been true -- and you think it's still true now, but the odds are that if you learned ick as a kid, you don't need ick as an adult.

Think of beliefs as sweaters. Would you wear the sweater you wore to kindergarten on a date today? It just wouldn't fit. (And, man, would it hurt the eyes.)

Ways to generate non-icky ideas:

-- The easiest way is to flip around the old (icky) one you've been schlepping around your whole life. If you're "no good," pick "I'm good!" If you're "lazy" pick "I'm active." (Note, however, while this may be the easiest one to generate, it may be the hardest one to try on.)

-- Ask yourself what other ways you could see this belief? What other words could you use, or other ways you could define those words?

-- What belief might your best friend/mentor/parent/lover encourage you to have?

-- What belief have you always wanted to have?

-- What do your role models believe? (Or, what do you think your role models believe?)

Step 3: Give it a whirl

What's beautiful about this step is that no matter what new (non-icky) belief you pick, it stands a really good chance of being better than the old (icky) one you've been using all along, so you CAN'T GO WRONG!

Just sayin'.

Try on your new belief (like a sweater). See how it feels in your body. When you feel the old belief creeping back in, take a deep breath, and switch your mind back over to the new one.

A good way to really give this a whirl is to assign yourself a task that brings up the old belief. For example, if your old belief is "no woman would want to date me" then sign up for an online dating service. Every time you look at that site, you have an opportunity to try on the new belief. And when the new belief falters, look to see if there are additional old (icky) beliefs underneath that one.

And then repeat the process.

I promise you, you're worth it!