Joy in the doing, joy in the done.

So my brother the artist calls me up yesterday and glumly confesses that his plans for his long-cherished designs for a unique, crazy brilliant series of lamps has hit another roadblock, yet again.

As we continue to talk, he reveals that the company he pitched the lamps concept to wants to contract with him as a designer, that the company is tapping a market of global proportions, and that a design he did that he never told me about was used by the owner of the company sixteen times over in his own house. Then he tells me about a truly jaw-dropping idea he just had for reinventing a simple doorknob.

I stopped him. “Dude,” I said. “You’re all passionate about the lamps and depressed about them, but you’re just like, Whatever, about all this other amazing stuff! You should be like, Whatever, about the lamps and jumping on the bed about everything else. Get your feelings straight, bud!” He got it, and laughed.

Why is it so hard for us to celebrate our successes?

A lot of reasons. For my brother, he was so focused on trying to pick one apple that he didn’t see the other apples falling off the tree, ready and waiting.

For me, usually when I’ve finished anything important, I’ve put so much work into it that I’m exhausted, and I need to sleep instead of celebrate.

Then when I wake up, I find that true success brings a feeling of rest and peace, which broadens my perspective. I look at that one accomplishment and see it as a link in the beautiful paper chain that is the life I created and am creating. Which means that the accomplishment loses importance, because I can see that everything was and is important. Why celebrate that moment and not any of the million moments that went into its making?

But to be totally honest, deep down, celebrating also feels like lighting a candle, sticking it in a muffin, and singing The Birthday Song to yourself, alone. There’s a reason parents make a fuss over their kids’ accomplishments: kids don’t know how to do it themselves, and the truth is we never really learn. Not only do we hope that somebody else will throw the party for us, we need them to.

I used to think that rewiring myself to celebrate achievements was vital. But I’ve changed my mind a bit. If you’ve accomplished something and the next thing you know, the Inner Critic is attacking you for all the progress you haven’t made in other areas of your life, then yeah, celebrating that accomplishment is really important, and you need to throw a party any which way you can.

But if you already feel deeply, deliciously happy about what you’ve done, I figure, just calmly, quietly, let that space open up in your heart and your life, and give that good energy to somebody else who needs it. Someday when you’re down and they’re up, they will do you the same kindness.

In other words, clasping your hands above your head in victory isn’t half as enjoyable as holding someone else’s hand, for any reason at all.

Smackdown Success Story: Rosanne Bane – Part Two

Part Two. Click here to read Part One.

In your book Dancing in the Dragon’s Den, you wrote a lot about the saboteur. How do you know the difference between when you’re sabotaging yourself and when your Inner Critic is actually helping you?
I think the Inner Critic and the Saboteur are pretty much synonymous. I don’t think the Inner Critic is ever helpful. I know the Saboteur never is. The Inner Critic and the Saboteur are the voices of judgment.

My perspective is that every artist must have discernment, but judgment is never useful. Judgment is final: this is good (no need to improve) or this is bad (no possibility of improving). You have to discern what’s working and what options could improve your work.

How does the Inner Critic show up in your life?
My Saboteur is very subtle. The Saboteur always lies and my Saboteur lies by telling partial truths, usually on some variation of ‘This little thing won’t matter.’ For example, “So what if you don’t show up for your writing today, you can always put in extra time tomorrow.” True, I can skip a day without disastrous results and true, I could put in extra time the next day, but the deeper truth is that if I don’t show up on Monday, it’s harder and scarier to show up on Tuesday. Every day I miss makes it harder to come back. Even more significant, if I tell myself I’ll write every day and then I don’t show up one day, I’ve lied to myself. That feeds the Saboteur and makes it stronger. It’s vital that I keep my word to myself.

Has your own Inner Critic ever kept you from doing something that you wish you’d had the courage to do? What?
Yes and no. The Inner Critic/Saboteur has certainly delayed many of my dreams. But I’m not willing to give up, and as long as I keep showing up, taking action and doing what I can to get out of the limbic brain, where the Saboteur seems to thrive, and back to my creative brain, I’m doing okay.

I don’t know why we all have a Saboteur, but we do, so it must have some purpose. Like M. Scott Peck said “Life is hard. It’s supposed to be hard.” The Saboteur makes it harder. Fortunately, I can do hard. I’ve done things I never thought possible and shown myself that I’m capable of so much more than I usually think I am. You’re capable of more than you realize and you can do hard, too.

What are you most proud of yourself for?
Every day I show up for my writing, my self-care commitments (which are currently meditation and working out), my family and friends, in short, every day I show up for my life, I take pride in that day. I am proud of writing and publishing Dancing in the Dragon’s Den, I am proud of being part of my clients’ and students’ successes, I’m proud of the work my partner and I have done to create a loving, committed relationship. But I don’t want to focus on past accomplishments; I want to keep my focus on the present. How am I showing up for my life today?

What strategies did you use to calm your fears and take action?
I use habits, rituals and routines. Routines soothe the limbic brain and make it easier to move into and stay in the creative cortex. Habits remove the need to make a decision. Once I start the ‘Will I or won’t I” discussion in my head, I’m doomed. A habit means I don’t have to decide everyday if I’m going to write or meditate, I just do it six out of seven days. As an added bonus, research shows that an on-going meditation practice makes the limbic brain less reactive. In other words, the more I follow the healthy habits I’m committed to, the easier it is to follow those habits.

I also make public commitments. Part of the reason I teach the Writing Habit class at the Loft semester after semester, year after year, is that while I’m teaching them how to be accountable to themselves, they’re helping me be accountable to myself. I can’t tell students to follow the three practices I recommend unless I’m doing it myself.

You’re a coach, an author, a speaker, a teacher. What have you done to ensure that you don’t get paralyzed with inaction?
Inaction is not a problem. I’m self-employed and I’m always busy. The challenge is making sure I’m taking the right action. That’s where time management techniques, lists, working with my own coach and public commitments come in.

What do you do when none of your smackdowns are working?
Many years ago, I was clinically depressed and needed intervention from a therapist. I think my Saboteur was totally in control at that time. I’ve gone through that and a few other serious ‘dark nights of the soul’ and now I know I’ll never let the Saboteur get so powerful again. I’ve done my emotional and spiritual work. I know I can always do something to curb the Saboteur.

What keeps you motivated?
Hearing that I’m making a difference in someone’s life. My partner, my family, my friends, my dog, Blue. Being passionate. Being outraged at injustice. The glorious oranges and purples of the sun rising every morning and setting every evening. The yellow finches that gather outside my office window every spring. Great books. The thrill of writing and seeing characters and a story come together out of my imagination onto the page.

Is there anything you’d like to add that I haven’t thought to ask?
Every writer, every creative person, experiences resistance of some kind. Sometimes we recognize that as the Inner Critic or the Saboteur. Sometimes we just think we’re too busy. Sometimes we’re afraid we don’t know where to start or how to keep going. Sometimes we wonder if we really can do what we most want to do. What makes or breaks us is not whether we experience resistance (we will!), it’s how we respond to resistance. The important thing is to keep showing up for your writing/creativity, your life, yourself. I help people do that.

Smackdown Success Story: David Alan Basche

David Alan Basche (www.DavidAlanBasche.com) is starring as Debra Messing’s ex-husband Kenny on the hit TV show The Starter Wife on USA Network, Fridays at 10pm. He is also playing the recurring character of Mike Harness on Lipstick Jungle, and he appeared in the movies United 93 and The War of the Worlds. He is expecting his first child with his wife, Alysia Reiner.

1) When did your Inner Critic first rear its ugly head?
Oh this is a good one, it was at age 6 and it was absolutely horrible. My Father had just died of a sudden, massive heart attack. And I kid you not, a little voice inside my head said “If you had been a better little boy, God would not have had to take your Father.” Oh yes my Inner Critic made quite an entrance, and yes it DID say that. No shit, it really did, the bastard.

2) What’s the worst part of having an Inner Critic, or what’s the worst thing it’s ever said to you?
See above, but even after that, I mean, come on, what HASN’T my inner critic said to me? “You’re so far behind, you’ll never get what you want, it’s too late to reach those levels, too late to make those dreams come true, just give up you piece of shit!” I mean, it will basically stop at nothing to tear me down. And the worst part is that I always think I’m over it. It’s like “Groudhog Day” plays over and over in my subconscious, dammitt! When will my critic be gone? When will I learn how to ignore it perfectly? Um, never…but I keep trying!

3) What have you been able to achieve by smacking down your Inner Critic?
Most importantly, I’ve been able to achieve a life that’s less full of fear, a state of being that’s more present, and an existence that’s freer and lighter and more positive in all ways. And certainly the repeated smackdowns of my Inner Critic have contributed to my career success in a huge way. I deal with a LOT of rejection on a daily basis in my career, and I think learning to smackdown the critic has helped me not take that rejection so personally and therefore made me confident in critical high pressure situations like screen tests, etc.

4) What’s your all-time favorite smackdown?
I say to my inner critic “Excuse me, who the F*&# asked you?” and then try to do a silly little dance while giving my critic the finger. No seriously, I do.

5) What do you do when none of your smackdowns are working?
I Leave… No, really, sometimes just a change of scenery works when nothing else will. A walk on a noisy city street makes it hard to hear my inner critic! And if all else fails, there’s always South Park – watching something insanely funny helps me to not take my self-imposed misery so seriously.

6) Over time, does it get easier to smackdown the Critic? What keeps you motivated?
Practice makes never perfect but certainly easier when it comes to our inner critics. Once you face down an inner critic and win, you always have that victory to recall and feed off for the next battle. Over time it becomes habit to NOT listen to the mean voice in your head!

7) Acting is one of the toughest careers you can have. How do you handle the Outer Critics?
First, never read reviews if you are still working on a piece! In the theatre, even a good review can screw you up onstage the next night. And it’s good to remember the old phrase: “Opinions are like assholes: everybody’s got one.”

Are you scared of raising a kid? If so, how do you smackdown that fear?
Scared? No, I’m TERRIFIED! What responsibility! But I keep telling myself “Just listen to your gut, you’ll be a great Dad, you know you have this in you, you know how to love and nurture and protect and teach, just go with the flow.” Also, bourbon helps a lot.

9) What are your favorite sources of inspiration?
My wife is my single most important inspiration, spiritually and otherwise. Art, books, music, dance, film, really ALL the other arts contribute to my acting inspiration too of course.

10) What advice would you give to someone who was stuck in fear and inaction?
Tell yourself “Get up, get going, DO something!” and then once you start, whatever was scaring you doesn’t seem so bad! The anticipation is worse than the thing itself. I repeat to myself: “Whatever happens, I’ll handle it…”

Put down the paintbrush?

Yesterday I went to a panel discussion that included George Soros, Jeffrey Sachs (Columbia U.), and Nouriel Roubini (NYU, the economist who predicted our entire economy would collapse back in the late 90s). These are some of the brightest financial and economic minds in the world, and they had come together to answer the question, Can we save the global economy?

It was beyond inspiring. The world is very much in dire straits right now, but there are ways that we can rebuild the world, and this time, make it better. It will take sacrifice, especially including the sacrifice of the distinctly American mindset that we can all be individualistic, independent cowboys. The truth is, we need other people and they need us. Everything we do affects everyone else, and we have to start being responsive and responsible.

But the first question from the audience after the panel discussion was, What is the role of art in the effort to save the global economy? It was asked in that particularly plaintive tone typically used by an artist who lives in his or her head, and there was a wave of anger and annoyance from the audience and panelists at the asker. I felt it, too! It seemed so damned self-serving of this person to look at the absolute mess the world is in and still her first thought was, do I still get to do what I want? She seemed criminally frivolous.

Roubini answered the question. The gist of what he said was, To save the world, we need builders. We need real growth, not superficial tinkerings. We need engineers far more than we need artists.

Uh oh. Doesn’t that sound like something the Inner Critic would say?

It’s an old question (I can’t remember where I first saw it), but what would the American people be capable of doing, if we harnessed all the mental energy that we currently spend on memorizing sports statistics? Have Americans turned into the useless, airhead debutantes of the world?

I’ve learned that when I hate something, I have to look at it closer, because there is usually some golden treasure hidden beneath my knee-jerk, but deeply passionate, reaction. After all, I’m a writer, I’m an artist – do I need to give up on that and go be an engineer of some kind? Isn’t that what the world needs from me?

So, I really have to face that question: Is there a role for art in saving the world?

I came up with a couple answers, but a distinction has to be made. Not between high art and pop art, but between private art and bare knuckle art. Private art is still worthwhile to make – for yourself. It clears your mind and balances and eases you. But bare knuckle art is very, very hard to make. It takes questioning yourself, your purpose, your mission, your worth, and anything you ever thought was true. Not to say you have to be a tortured artist, but you have to be willing to break yourself open to make it.

I think I can see a role for bare knuckle art in helping to rebuild the world… 

• Bare knuckle artists are skeptics. They never take anything at face value, whereas it was people who took things at face value (how much money do I make in fees if I grant this sub-prime mortgage?) who drove our economy down.
• Bare knuckle art tells the truth. Bare knuckle artists are B.S. spotters. If every investment bank had had an artist with a blog on staff, maybe the truth would have been exposed before the banks collapsed.
• Bare knuckle art tells the truth in ways that are new enough and surprising enough that our poor eyes and ears, scarred over and stuffed with so much mindless entertainment, can see and hear it.
• If you spend your time making bare knuckle art, you will spend less time gorging on the crap that the world wants to sell you.
• If you spend your time looking at bare knuckle art, your defenses will be down and you will have to feel. And if you are spending time really feeling, not shutting down or veg-ing out, then you can feel compassion for the rest of the world.

So what do you think? Are these reasons simply justifications for my personal, self-serving choices in life? Or do you think artists can help in this day and age?

Maurice Sendak: Still Tortured

NY Times Maurice Sendak Article

The part that kills me most (kills me hardest? kills me bloodiest? kills me most thoroughly dead?) in the Times article is this:

Maurice Sendak “fears he has not risen above the ‘mere illustrator’ label himself.”

On the one hand, I get it. He thinks that a requirement for being a great artist is having a powerful and eternal inner critic. If you’re not pushing yourself against something, then you won’t get past what feels comfortable, which means you’ll just create from the automatic, default part of you. Which isn’t art, it’s armchair.

On the other hand, does he have to brutalize himself so badly? The article makes it seem like he’s never enjoyed any success he’s had, even the quiet, personal success of doing something different than he did before.

Here’s what I bet his Heavyweight is telling him: “Sure, you wrote one book that changed millions of lives. So? You’ll never do it again, so what exactly are you living for?”

Mr. Sendak, a smackdown: Every time you put on a new monster suit and draw a new picture or write a new story, the Inner Critic LOSES. You may have to grapple with the Inner Critic on the regular, like digging out an ingrown toenail. But compare five minutes of bloody pain every now and then to a whole lifetime of dancing! It’s worth it and you know it, or you would have given up and just lived off your profits a long time ago….

(Now, maybe the reporter with the ingrown toenail fetish needs a smackdown, too!)