About 3 weeks ago I read Seth Godin‘s new book, Linchpin. Yes, I know, I’m still talking about Seth, but hang on, you’ll find out why in a moment.
Since then, I have had more creative energy, completed more tasks and begun more projects than the previous 3 – 6 months. The difference is astounding and I feel like I’ve had a blow to the head!
We all have defining moments and reading Linchpin was one of those for me. My friend Mary raved about it until I had to read the book just to shut her up. I truly had no idea it would alter my life so profoundly.
So, what happened?
The illusions I’d created to keep myself safe fell away one by one as I read the book, and I got clear what it was costing me to not keep my word to myself. As a coach I am brilliant at supporting others to pursue their passions and take action, but left to my own devices my lizard brain can get pretty damn active.
This of course leads to suppressing myself and playing it safe, behaviour that seems pretty uncoach-like.
It’s just very, very human.
My lizard brain will do anything to keep me from being creative, taking a risk and moving out of my comfort zone. Ironically, these are all actions that leave me feeling enlivened and satisfied.
When I decided to launch this blog, my lizard brain went on high alert; I had apparently entered the danger zone and the chatter in my head got loud – really $%^& loud.
I was having panic attacks, unable to sleep and feeling worried about these weird conversations I was having with myself.
Conversations that went something like this:
Me: I want to launch my blog.
Lizard brain (LB): No way, nope, not going to happen; you’re not ready yet.
Me: You’ve seen how much work I’ve done this week and I’ve been feeling ready; I think this is it!
LB: You’re not looking at all the possibilities; there’s a lot that could still go wrong. You only have this one chance to get people’s attention. Do you really want to blow it?
Me: What if it was about connecting with people instead of getting it perfect? Would it be ok then?
LB: Hmm, good point, but I still think you should wait.
Me: LB, I really want to do this. I’ve waited a long time, I’ve listened to your “coaching” and you’ve done a great job at keeping me safe. I appreciate that AND I’m going ahead with this. I’ve decided tomorrow’s the day.
It’d be great if you could relax a little and be happy for me. I really think you’ll be surprised at how good it feels to connect with people. Won’t you give it a try, for me?
LB: You’ve already launched one project this week; can’t this wait awhile longer? I’m worried about you.
Me: I know and I appreciate it; I don’t want you to stop worrying about me. I think it’s great that you do. You’ve given me so much time to prepare and that’s priceless. You’ve done such a good job of it that I really am ready now, so you can pat yourself on the back and be proud – of both of us.
LB: Well, when you put it that way, I guess tomorrow’s a good day. But I’ll be watching and I want you to know I’ve got your back.
Have I made friends with my lizard?
Sort of.
I’ve begun to think of it as a cute tree frog whispering in my ear rather than a man-eating Caiman crocodile.
LB is still there, doing its thing and I’m becoming OK with that.
The difference now is that I don’t hear just the criticism and fear.
I don’t feel just the frustration and disappointment.
There’s something new, something unfamiliar showing up; a knowing that I can appreciate my lizard brain for keeping me safe and doing its utmost to protect me.
Knowing that it’s got my back, I can finally do the work my heart’s been longing for.
Sandi, I was SO excited to read about your befriending your lizard brain! I know we got to talk briefly about ours truly J on Twitter, but it was great to read this and to know that someone else out there advocates – and demonstrates so well, as you did – what can happen when you hear the lizard (love your last line) rather than – as many others would advise – telling it to settle down and shut up.
As you so rightly said, it is there because it feels our fear. It’s job is not to judge whether or not our fear is *justified*, but to say what we told it to say to keep us out of the danger that we have told it is up ahead if we proceed.
Also as you said, it will have our back for however long it is that we are afraid. Would we yell at that kind of friend? And if we did, what would our BESTest friend do, anyway? They’d let us yell, stick around, wait it out, because they know we’re afraid, and until they know for sure we’re not.
Thank you much for sharing your thoughts – and your questions- and for encouraging us to express our gratitude to the lizard for its intentions and efforts, and what can happen as a result.
🙂 Karen
Oh Karen!
This conversation could go on for quite some time as it seems to be the thing I’m most fascinated with these days. Our lizard brains aren’t going anywhere and they’re really never going to shut up so we may as try something new.
Beating ourselves about it hasn’t worked; so now what?
xoS
How about beating yourself up until the beatings do work? Oh.
I’m with you, the lizard is fascinating. Only *problem* is, I’ve loved mine almost to death, poor thing.
Actually, I’m thinking specifically of 2 of my lovely lizards, who – because there is so little for them to do these days except bask in the glory of their accomplishments (they know and I know I wouldn’t be where I am without them) – I now affectionately refer to them as the lounge lizards.
Of course, they also have *real* names. They are my two Itas [Eaters, but I’m from Jersey :-)] They’re twins, one is Rita – Restrictive Ita, the other is Juanita,
Wanta Ita. They both want the best for me, and took to heart my marching orders…I’ll feel better if I eat/I’ll feel better if I don’t.
I found that engaging both of them, spending time listening to their goals, and thanking them for how I benefit from both of their approaches, got them working together instead of them being at odds and me feeling too often out of sorts because of it.
Thanks for the giving the lizard the floor, and continuing the conversation; I know my lizards love all the attention! 🙂 What say you and yours?
🙂 Karen
Karen,
I love the Itas!!! My own lizard brain most often shows up as Medusa. She’s kind of an all or nothing drama queen who makes mountains out of mole hills!
Me: I just ate a piece of cake.
Medusa: Hell, why don’t you eat the whole thing!
Me: My knees hurt from exercising.
Medusa: OMG, you need knee replacement surgery!
You get the picture right? She shows up mostly around food and relationship issues.
She used to be really stressful, but over the years of negotiating and talking her down from the ledge…I’ve come to appreciate her role in my life. She is my protector.
Adding humour to the mix also made a huge difference. When I feel her coming (certain kind of energy in my body) I often say “Run, run, Medusa’s coming!” Gotta say, the warning works for my husband!
I knew I was on the right track when one day he said, “Medusa’s been pretty quite lately. Has she gone on vacation?”
Nope. She’s still there. We just have a better working relationship now. OR maybe she really is on vacation with the lounge lizards! What an image 😉
Medusa and the Itas. Now that would be a party.
Mine would love! to hang out with Medusa, they heard what you said about her being a drama queen, and they love to associate themselves with royalty. I can hear my other Lizzies (they’re telling me they’re all girls, after all) grumbling about wanting names and the same kind of attention the Itas get, or got. Like you, I have a relationship one, and I have a Lizzy that keeps up with me re business. Quite the club. (No, Ladies, I am not being sarcastic. And yes, Itas it is hard to believe that spellcheck doesn’t recognize you. What did you say? Oh. Yes. Maybe if you had a proper name like Medusa. Don’t tax yourself thinking about this, girlies. You’ve weakened yourself enough from all the nothing you’re doing. Look at that. You can hardly even stick those oh so lovely tongues out at me.)
So I guess you can see how things are between me and the Itas. After I heard them and they got me to understand they are the different sides of the same we’re-just-here-for-your-happiness – and as you said safety – coin, I stopped flipping them over and back like one, and now, sweet now, I have trouble separating them. Most importantly, they have trouble telling each other apart because they realize they’re on the same page.
And you know how amazing the day was that they started appreciating each other; I wasn’t anticipating that, or how much that mutual appreciation would relax them, and render them almost speechless. (Look, they can barely high-five each other in their lounge chairs, let me move them closer. I think they just said thank you, I’m going to have to get better at lip reading since they barely trouble themselves to speak above a whisper now.)
When I started the conversations with the Itas, my intention was to *manage* them, reason with them, compromise. When I started talking to them in writing, it was out of respect for their respect for me, but I didn’t realize how my articulating my respect for the depth and power of their commitment to me would lead to their bonding so tightly to each other, that they are now almost indistinguishable. As I type that, I realize how could it not. Of course they would give anyone else who they can clearly see respects and cares for me so much their highest regard.
I can hardly hear them now because they can feel that I heard them loud and clear.
Oh, excuse me, Sandi, for a minute. I have to go pound them on the backs, they’re choking because they’re laughing too hard; they’ll never be able to muster up the energy for any pounding. (They had started to say that they’re just resting their voices because hey, you never know when I’ll need some yelling at, but they couldn’t even get that out before they burst out laughing at how ridiculous that sounded to them.)
Sounds like Medusa’s got the same energy issues and doesn’t have it in her these days to be making many mountains?
Oh Karen!
This conversation could go on for quite some time as it seems to be the thing I’m most fascinated with these days. Our lizard brains aren’t going anywhere and they’re really never going to shut up so we may as try something new.
Beating ourselves about it hasn’t worked; so now what?
xoS
Karen,
I love the Itas!!! My own lizard brain most often shows up as Medusa. She’s kind of an all or nothing drama queen who makes mountains out of mole hills!
Me: I just ate a piece of cake.
Medusa: Hell, why don’t you eat the whole thing!
Me: My knees hurt from exercising.
Medusa: OMG, you need knee replacement surgery!
You get the picture right? She shows up mostly around food and relationship issues.
She used to be really stressful, but over the years of negotiating and talking her down from the ledge…I’ve come to appreciate her role in my life. She is my protector.
Adding humour to the mix also made a huge difference. When I feel her coming (certain kind of energy in my body) I often say “Run, run, Medusa’s coming!” Gotta say, the warning works for my husband!
I knew I was on the right track when one day he said, “Medusa’s been pretty quite lately. Has she gone on vacation?”
Nope. She’s still there. We just have a better working relationship now. OR maybe she really is on vacation with the lounge lizards! What an image 😉
Awesome. Yes, realizing LB is an awesome team-mate with some limitations when it comes to striking out into the unknown was a real breakthrough for me. Thank you Sandi!