How to Be Rich and Happy: Spotlight & Review

Follow Friday Series

An Admission, A Review & A Spotlight

Follow Friday Series

The Admission

I started talking to Tim Brownson about having him in the spotlight months ago. I wanted to combine the Friday spotlight with a review of Tim’s book (co-authored with John P. Strelecky) and that’s when my procrastination kicked in.

In my 15+ years as a student of personal development and 10 years of coaching I’ve read a helluva lot of books, and the title How to Be Rich and Happy made me groan aloud.

book cover for How to Be Rich and HappyReally Tim?

How to Be Rich and Happy???

Sounds so. . .I don’t know. . .too good to be true maybe?

It’s fair to say I had a reaction to the title, which began the cycle of procrastination, putting it off time and again.

If I’d told him, he’d probably have laughed and had me read An Easy Way to Beat Procrastination where he says,

“As a human being your brain is pre-programmed to avoid pain whenever it can.” 

At first I thought, “What pain? I love doing these spotlights!” but the pain quickly became clear.

The pain was related to my reaction which lead me to believe I wouldn’t like the book itself which lead to “I shouldn’t review this book”which lead to why the hell read it then!? I’d completely forgotten it had started with a desire to have Tim in the spotlight.

The worst thing about the procrastination was the blow to my integrity, one of my core values. Honouring my word is essential to my well-being. I’m not kidding, it really is that important to me and here I was putting off something I said I’d do months ago.

When you’re committed to walking your talk, the only thing to do when your integrity goes out is clean it up. That I hadn’t kept my word became a fierce thing in my mind, staring me in the face like one of Tim’s Dobermans!

So I read the book.

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Sticky Stories and the Lizard That Stops Us

 

The Vagabondage Series:  Elana Baxter on escaping the comfort zone.

 

We all have weaknesses and not just one or two.

Some of mine include English period films, glossy magazines, gossip sites and espresso. But there’s one weakness I’ve yet to divulge until today.

Worksheets.

I know, a bit anticlimactic and not even a bit risqué. But nevertheless, I have a soft spot for worksheets.

So when my coach told me she would be sending some along – not one, but some – I was ready to dive in and start neatly answering all of the questions, eager to ponder each one with focused consideration.

Then they came.

After the initial introduction discussing my favourite subjects – ideal work and living a life you love – I hurried to the next section to begin. That’s when the can of worms began to squirm uncomfortably.

List what you dreamed of as a child seemed a simple enough statement. I could do that. Plus, I’d been instructed to slap a roll of duct tape on the lizard brain in order to do the work and just write whatever felt right and true. I resolved to quietly ignore the squirming worms and move on.

Visions and memories of dancing, singing, writing, drawing, painting, playing music – they all came to the surface. I looked at my answers. All silent contemplation went up in flames. The worms started a full-fledged riot, apparently not happy in their can and my lizard brain had removed the duct tape muzzle (lizards are tricky little bastards).

I can’t dance now! I’m too old.

Singing? There’s no time for s i n g i n g!

Painting?!! Now you’re really talking a fine tune right out of your ass lady!

And so on.

Every joyous memory and hopeful vision, dismantled by the lizard and a chorus of obnoxious worms with a story to tell.

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Quieting the Voices

 

The Vagabondage Series:  Wherein Elana Baxter slams the door on her own personal kryptonite!

 

Over the last week, I’ve been engaged in a form of mental hand to hand combat.

With whom you might be asking. . .

Some of the sneakiest, most crippling villains shadowing the psyches of folks everywhere as we do our best to show up, don our superhero capes and fly out into the open air to rally for a sweet, satisfaction-filled life.

Bert and Ernie dolls

You and I know them well. They are the kryptonite of action, the Achilles heel of focused intention, and the chocolate espresso cheesecake slyly beckoning from a pastry case after a long, tough day.

Allow me to introduce my UnFab Five, a.k.a. the saboteurs of

  • overwhelm
  • judgement
  • perfectionism
  • impatience
  • lack of integrity

I’ve met each of these bad boys and we know each other intimately. Recently, I had the chance to chat with all of them and here for your viewing pleasure are the outtakes:

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The Myth of the Reveal

 

The Vagabondage Series:  Elana Baxter steps out from behind the curtain.

 

I have jumped out of a plane, landing safely in a world of wonder. My head is on straight, and my eyes are open. The limbic lizard previously in charge of the first half of my life has been usurped by a common sense check-in system (Value-O-Meter) that informs me when I’m on or off course. 

When the lizard begins to interfere, I check in with reality: we look deeply into each other’s eyes over espresso and all is well with the world. Every day is an opportunity to practice what I’ve learned about myself and what works for me. In other words, I am doing the work  that matters and the work that delivers results.

So now what?

The Reveal and the Real

I spend a bit of leisure time indulging in something I cringe to confess, but since I’m out here with my soul flayed like a boneless chicken breast here goes: I watch reality television, in particular the makeover and weight loss themes (hides head under tablecloth).

biggest loser tv show finaleI haven’t logged huge quantities of time watching the stuff, but I do enjoy it in controlled doses. Now, the thing about the cruelly ironic reality that is so expertly created on programs like the Extreme Makeover franchise or Biggest Loser, and what makes it so addictive and illusory, is that it always delivers.

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What the Heck Is the Point?

 

Why do you do what you do?

Love.

Money.

Purpose?

What compels you to take action when you’re paralyzed with fear?

When the lizard rears up in its loud, persistent glory?

It’s said that if you have a big enough why, anything is possible.

People like Martin Luther King Jr., Mother Theresa, and Gandhi (the usual suspects) all started with “why.”

It was their why that enabled them to do what they did, inspiring others and achieving remarkable things.

It might sound blasphemous, but I don’t think of them as extraordinary human beings.

They were just like you and me. Ordinary people with one major difference.

They had a very BIG why.

What’s yours?

And is it big enough?

[pullquote]“That which is within you and expressed will set you free, but that which is within you and not expressed will eat you from inside.” – Book of Thomas[/pullquote]

Your why is yearning to be expressed.

Why do you do what you do?

Without a clear answer to this question. . .

What the heck is the point?

 

 

Evolution of A Story

 

Guest post from Rachael Acklin sharing the evolution of her story.

 

I’ve been making up stories about myself since I was a child.

I used to pretend that I lived in Middle Earth, and that the woods behind my house were full of elves.

sunlight in forestI used to climb trees and pretend that I lived out there and could fall asleep on a branch and not fall down.

As I grew older, and had a boyfriend, I told myself that I was boring and not very pretty, because a sixteen-year-old boy found me rather bland.

When I was in my twenties, I told myself that romance wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, and that a husband who came home every night was better than excitement.

Later when he left me, I told myself that I was used and damaged and nobody would ever want me.

But I also told myself that I was capable of taking care of my two little kids on my own, and that I didn’t need anyone else.

Then a year or so later I decided I did need someone else, and I pretended I was happy that way.

It’s taken me years of pain and heartache, along with beautifully sunny days full of smiles and laughter and the love of my children, to see that so many of the stories I’ve told myself are pure and utter bullshit.

And that I can leave them behind, not just to write a new story, but to see myself for who I really am.

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Stretching Beyond

 

As I watched, it stretched its neck, ever so gracefully upwards. . .

Reaching for the tender leaves hanging down.

The word vulnerable came to mind and I wondered. . .

Where are you not stretching? Not reaching for the tenderest, juiciest leaves (your dreams)?

swan stretching its neck

Where are you waiting…

– for someday

– for the right moment

– for the leaves to drop

Why not reach up?

Way up.

Stick your neck out.

S T R E T C H .

And go for what you want.

You’ve nothing to lose.

You don’t have what you want now.

“It’s silly to be afraid that you’re not going to get what you want if you ask. Because you are already not getting what you want.” – Marcia Martin

Silly you.

 

Tell me:

What is just out of reach?

What’s the cost of not stretching?

Here’s Where the Story Ends

 

Ahh, the stories you tell yourself. If I had a nickel for all the stories my clients have shared over the last 10 years I’d be rich.

Very. Very. Rich.

stack of old books and spectaclesStories you were told growing up.

Stories you made up about yourself.

Stories that held you back.

It’s enough to have Freud turn over in his grave.

Err, actually, he’d probably like all your stories because that would mean lots of time on the couch.

I was reminded of the power of stories by two things  recently:  a chat with the fabulous El Edwards of TruthPassionJoy and a song called The Story Ends by The Sundays.

The thing that most people forget about stories is this. . .

They’re all made up in the first place. 

You create you. Then you forget.

A relative comments on your height/weight/hair colour ==> You make this mean you’ll have to compensate and work harder than everyone else to get ahead.

An ex-boyfriend says you’re too intense ==> You decide you’re too much for people to handle and start suppressing yourself.

A kid on the playground calls you a nerd ==> You give up on all things athletic because clearly, you are NOT a jock.

Your 4th grade teacher says “stop trying so hard, you’ll never be an artist” ==> You stop doing what you love to do (except in your most secret dreams) and do what’s expected.

See how this works?

They said X ==> You made up Y

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Say Something New

“The words you speak become the house you live in.” – Hafiz

mime putting on make-up in mirror

I recently had the pleasure of exploring what Monique MacDonald calls your Sacred Gifts. Her work had been recommended to me by many people and that always gets my attention. Then my friend and colleague Coral Heron took the training and the opportunity arose.

After 15+ years of personal development work of all kinds I know myself pretty well. My strengths and weaknesses are familiar friends and I do my best to focus on the former. But as Coral lead me through the process another layer of the onion fell away.

Your gifts are not necessarily your skills or talents, or what you’re good at. Instead, think of them as qualities you were born with that allow you to do ordinary things in extraordinary ways. Chances are, that like me, you’ve probably taken them for granted.

“Gifts are planted in your being-ness, and must reach out beyond your stories and your human-ness.” – Monique MacDonald

I was intrigued to by the idea that your gifts are always for the benefit of others. As Coral and I discussed each of my gifts this became evident. They’ve shown up in the work I do, the way I live my life, even my interests.

My gifts include: Wisdom, Encouragement, Knowledge, Leadership, Writing, Extraordinary Trust and Teaching.

While many of them were not a surprise, a couple of them triggered some resistance. Some part of me didn’t really want to own them, especially if they were for the benefit of others. I’m pretty sure that’s where my next level of growth lies.

The surprise was realizing that this new awareness of my gifts felt like pieces of a puzzle – the puzzle that is me – falling into place.

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An Ode to Love

Love.

Love.

It makes the world go round.

Sometimes I wonder, does it really?

I started looking. . .

Looking for love in all the right places you could say.

Here’s what I found.

word LOVE sidewalk graffitti

Love – rock solid like the concrete on which this graffiti was spray painted.

“Love doesn’t just sit there like a stone; it has to be made, like bread, remade all the time, made new.” – Ursula K. LeGuin

Love Me Tender name on boat

Love – days of smooth sailing along side days of stormy weather.

“Love is like the wind, you can’t see it but you can feel it.” – Nicholas Sparks 

glass hearts

Love – fragile in its beauty, long-lasting when cared for.

“i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)” – e. e. cummings 

I love you graffiti on brick wall

Love – messy and uncontrolled.

“Where there is love there is life.” – Gandhi 

rocks on sand in shape of heart

Love – publicly displayed, vulnerable to the elements.

“One love, one heart, one destiny.” – Bob Marley

Stop.

Right now…look around your world.

When you look for love, what do you see?