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In Identity, Personal Growth, Relationships

3 Words for 2016

Julianne HarveyJanuary 5, 2016April 24, 20162 Comments

I decided to focus on three words for 2016. They are not resolutions, as the drive for all that we hope to accomplish tends to fizzle out by the middle of January, but I’m hoping that three words will be easier to sustain over the course of the year.

I came up with these words by spending a little time thinking about my weaknesses compared to my strengths. Like everyone, I do certain things well and other things are a struggle for me. I decided to focus on three areas I find personally challenging. That way, when I’m under stress or have a decision to make, I can factor in all three of these words and offer myself a chance to practice living them out.

These are my three words for 2016:

Strong.

I often ask myself, “WWAFD?” for “What Would Alicia Florrick Do?” Those who watch The Good Wife (and if you’re not watching The Good Wife, please rectify that immediately) will get the reference, but Julianna Margulies plays a lawyer, the title character of the show, and she consistently kicks ass and takes names while remaining kind and generous at her core. She takes no shit from anyone and doesn’t give any of her precious time and energy to worrying about what other people think about her. I adore this fictional character and aspire to her strength and courage. This year, I’m going to do all I can to keep the word strong front and centre in my life.

Clear.

I’ve wasted far too much time feeling muddled when I have to make a decision. It’s easy for me to factor in what I think everyone else needs and lose my own vote in the process. I’m planning to work on clarity this coming year, which pairs well with strength, for communicating exactly what I mean requires bravery. Generosity is part of my natural skill set and I wouldn’t ever want to lose it, but getting clear on what I need at any given time, and then speaking this in a direct manner, is a priority for 2016.

Optimistic.

In 2015, I saw on several occasions that my go-to mechanism is to assume the worst. About myself, about others, about situations. At times, I felt like Eeyore, trudging around with a gloomy black cloud over my head, terrified to open an email or run into a person at the store in case it meant bad news or a confrontation. I’m weary of this faulty assumption. Instead of visualizing the potential pitfalls of any group, work project or circumstance, I’m going to project an air of hopeful expectation instead. Maybe something wonderful is in that piece of mail, phone call or Facebook message. Anticipating joy instead of pain may take a lot of effort from me, but it has to be better for my soul than bracing for disaster. Most of the problems I dreaded in 2015 never came to pass, so I’m beginning this new year with the idea that adventure awaits and I have just as much of a chance for success as I do failure.

Those are my three words for 2016: strong, clear, optimistic. What are yours?

In Books, Personal Growth, Speaking, Writing

In the Game

Julianne HarveyOctober 6, 2015October 5, 2015Leave a comment

This week, I’m presenting my seminar, It’s On You: Taking Responsibility for your Choices, to 125 students in grades 6-8. It’s new material, and I’m not as familiar presenting to teens and tweens as I am to younger kids or to adults.

So it was a growing edge. We all have these, if we are challenging ourselves. I love Rob Bell’s reminder that “butterflies are good because they mean you are in the game.”

When something seems hard, that often means it’s worth doing. The reward is in the risk. You step out, unsure of the outcome, believing that when the chips are down, you will have what you need to complete the task.

I used to overthink everything. My mind would race ahead, attempting to cover every possible zig and zag, producing nothing but anxiety and despair. For this seminar, I decided to try putting my energy into my own confidence instead of all the eventualities that I cannot control.

I prepared, to the best of my ability, by going through the slides and recording my delivery so I could listen to it and fix the problem areas. I went for long walks and imagined myself relaxed and happy when in front of the students. I asked a few specific friends to encourage me leading up to the presentation – to cheer me on and remind me that I was up to the challenge.

Every one of these things helped to make the seminar a success. Planning, positive visualization, and organized cheerleading. When we step out in vulnerability, asking for what we need for a challenge we are facing, we can better prepare for a happy outcome.

I just read Jenny Lawson’s hilarious book, Furiously Happy, and author Neil Gaiman gives her this piece of advice when she had to record her audiobook: “Pretend you’re good at it.” I found that to be helpful on the morning of my first seminar. It’s like playing a trick; pulling the wool over people’s eyes by acting as if I was a polished, confident speaker when really my stomach was jumping up and down before I got up to speak.

My first slide in It’s On You is about cutting the tie that connects your inner sense of value with your outside performance. It feels healthy to practice this skill myself. To know that I am worthy of love and care, whether I deliver a successful seminar or fall flat on my face (or somewhere in between).

The risk is the reward. It helps us grow, to shoot for more the next time around, to bank up our trust in our abilities and skills. We simply do the very best we can, knowing that it’s better by far to have tried than to give in to our fear and back down from a challenge. It’s enough just to be in the game.

In Identity, Personal Growth, Writing

Disconnect from the Outcome

Julianne HarveySeptember 22, 2015September 21, 2015Leave a comment

Disappointment sucks. Not one of us is immune to it. We want something, so we begin to hope for it, predicting an outcome not guaranteed to occur.

The longer we wait, the further our imaginations nose ahead, daring to believe that this time, our long-held desire will bear fruit. As a writer, this is the seesaw edge I live on. Submitting work, then waiting for one of two outcomes: rejection or acceptance.

The other day, I heard someone utter these wise words, “I’m trying to do my best and then disconnect from the outcome.” I’m wretchedly awful at the second half of that sentence. Trying my best is easy; accepting whatever results from that is difficult.

But I know it’s good for me to keep trying. We all have to. Value plays a sizeable role here. When I tell myself I’m a decent writer because someone else confirms that by praising what I do, advancing me in a contest or offering a contract instead of a form rejection letter, I’m sunk. My confidence recedes, my stomach drops, and I feel worthless.

The key is to hinge my worth on my own unique identity and not to anything I produce. My work is not who I am. This goes for every one of us. No matter what our culture may tell us, success at work does not equal success as a human being. We will fail and we will succeed, but these markers are outside of us. They are not levers on our identity, shifting us ever higher or lower.

It’s funny because one of my slides in my It’s On You seminar is called “Expect Failure”. Another one is “You Own Your Value”. I’m teaching these concepts to students and to adults, and receiving a beautiful opportunity to practice them in my own experience. These philosophies mean nothing if I’m not living them out myself. Example is king. I don’t listen to fancy words any more, when it’s clear that the person uttering them is not modelling the skills they espouse.

Rejection is another chance to practice disconnecting from the outcome. I cannot afford to hitch my belief in my abilities to the opinions of other people. I have to feel the sadness when rejection hits, then dust myself off and move on, creating what only I can do. Even if it’s just for myself.

We do our best, and then allow the consequences to unfold as they will. We can only control our end of the deal. Beyond that, we have to believe that when the time is right, we will see small measures of success. Until that time, we’ll keep on going, affirming to ourselves that we are not the work we do. We are worthy of love and care, whether we win or lose. If we keep walking up to the plate, one day we’ll connect with the ball as we’ve dreamed of doing.