There is one little habit I’ve learned that has changed everything else in my life.

The pause.

When we fail, it’s because we act on urges without thinking, without realizing it. We have the urge to eat junk, and we do it. We have the urge to check email instead of writing a chapter of our book, and so we open our inbox. We have an urge to smoke, to drink, to do drugs, to chew our nails, to play a Facebook game, to procrastinate, to skip a workout, to eat more fries, to criticize, to act in jealousy or anger, to be rude … and we act on that urge.

What if instead we learned to pause after each urge? What if we stopped, looked at that urge, paid close attention to what it feels like inside our bodies, but didn’t act?

The urge would no longer control us. We would be able to make conscious choices that might be healthier for us, help us be happier.

If we can pause, we create space. Space to breathe, to think, to be without acting.

The pause is the answer to so many of our problems. Such a small thing, and so powerful.

To develop the pause, notice your next urge. Is it an urge to go check something online? Or eat something you know isn’t healthy for you? Pay attention to the urge, learn as much as you can about it. If you act on it after the pause, that’s OK. Just notice it, and pause, and pay attention.

Do it again for the next urge, and the next. You will get good at it with practice, and you’ll have lots of opportunities to practice.

The urges won’t go away, but your ability to pause will get stronger. And when you have the pause, you have everything.

Once upon a time, there was a farmer. This farmer lived in a different age than his forefathers, who were also farmers.

Instead of specializing in tomatoes or cotton as his ancestors had done, our farmer was gifted with the ability to decide every day what to plant and nurture. By the time the next day rolled around, the previous day’s crops were ready for harvest. (In these fields, crops grew very fast.)

While making decisions about his daily planting priorities, the farmer also thought about the meaning of life. Was the purpose of his existence all about ears of corn and bushels of strawberries? No, of course not. The farmer knew he wanted something more than the tasks he worked on while the sun was coming up.

The farmer also knew that in some areas of his life, he wanted to slow down and breathe easy. He did that already, reading Zen Habits every day on his mobile device while plowing the fields. He did not check email until the sun reached high noon, and he maintained few possessions that did not bring joy to his life or regular maintenance for his tractor.

The farmer was in good health, had a loving family, and kept up a routine of picking through carrots and alfalfa each week.

But the farmer knew that this routine was not enough. Deep inside his soul, the farmer wanted a challenge.

The farmer decided he should set out to build something that would improve the state of the world. But what would it be?

At first he was perplexed. “I’m just a farmer,” he thought. But then, as he was bringing in a bumper crop of sweet potatoes one afternoon, he began to understand that there was much more he could offer the world than the vegetables he harvested during his day job.

Once he started to think in this new way, the ideas kept coming. Should he begin a community tractor pull, bringing together the neighbors for a friendly competition? Write a highly-trafficked blog on cotton pesticides (“7 Simple Ways to Keep Production High”)? Distribute his excess starter crops to an enterprising young farmer in a land far away?

He wasn’t exactly sure which project he would choose, and he knew he might change his mind later. But in determining to begin something, the farmer felt a surge of confidence rush over him. The possibilities were as plentiful as the colors in the sunset he viewed each evening from the rocking chair on the porch.

What would the farmer build? How would he ultimately change the world?

As the moon rose over his latest crop and the farmer sat in the chair, he thought about the possibilities and said to himself, “I’m ready.” And then the farmer got off his porch and went to work.

Chris Guillebeau is the author of The Art of Non-Conformity blog and bestselling book. You can download his new manifesto on creating a legacy project, The Tower, for free.

One of the driving forces of my life for many years was the need to improve myself. It’s one of the driving forces for people who read my work as well.

It’s an incredibly pervasive urge: we are always trying to improve, and if we’re not, that’s something we should improve.

It’s everywhere. Where does this urge come from? It’s embedded in our culture — in the U.S. from Benjamin Franklin to the early entrepreneurial titans, everyone is trying to better themselves. It goes deeper, to ancient Western ideals of the perfect well-rounded person. But it flourished in the 20th century, from Dale Carnegie and Napoleon Hill to Stephen Covey. And now it’s in full bloom, with blogs. And yes, I’m part of this movement.

So what’s the problem? You could say it’s great that people are constantly trying to improve themselves, but where does it end? When is anyone ever content with who they are? We are taught that we are not good enough yet, that we must improve, and so … we always feel a little inadequate.

This is true no matter how much you’ve accomplished. You might have achieved a thousand goals, but do you have defined abs? Are your boobs big and bouncy? Do you have perfect skin? Have you read every classic in literature? Do you know fine wines, fine art, and every great musician from classical to jazz to punk to rock? Do you have success as an entrepreneur, as a writer? Can you speak several languages, and have you traveled the world? Do you own fewer than 100 things, or a small house? Are you a fast runner, and have you run a 100 miler? Can you Crossfit, or lift 1,000 pounds in the Big Three lifts? Do you have the perfect home, and can you cook gourmet meals? Are you the perfect parent, or have perfect work-life balance? Can you do yoga, meditate, juggle and do magic? Do you brew the perfect cup of coffee, or tea, or beer? Can you recite Shelly, Shakespeare, Homer? Are you good at picking up women, are you the perfect friend, the perfect lover, a romantic husband, a wife who meets her husband’s needs, a master craftsman, a hacker and a programmer, a knitter or sewer, a home-repair expert, knowledgeable in investing and real estate, do you know the perfect system for goals and use the perfect to-do software, is your phone as nice as his, or your bag as nice as hers, do you have cute boots or a manly shave? Are you debt free, or car free or gluten free? Do you give to charity or volunteer at shelters or build schools for Africa? Is your TV as large as mine, or your penis?

Are you adequate? Are you confident of that?

We are never adequate, never perfect, never self-confident, never good enough, never comfortable with ourselves, never satisfied, never there, never content.

And it becomes the reason we buy self-help products, fitness products, gadgets to make us cooler, nicer clothes, nicer cars and homes, nicer bags and boots, plastic surgery and drugs, courses and classes and coaches and retreats. It will never stop, because we will never be good enough.

We must improve. We must read every self-improvement book. When we read a blog, we must try that method, because it will make us better. When we read someone else’s account of his achievements, his goal system, his entrepreneurial lifestyle, her yoga routine, her journaling method, her reading list, we must try it. We will always read what others are doing, in case it will help us get better. We will always try what others are doing, try every diet and every system, because it helped them get better, so maybe it will help us too. Soon, we will find the ultimate solutions, soon we will get there. No, that hasn’t happened yet, but maybe this year will be the year.

Maybe 2012 will be the year we reach perfection.

Or maybe it will never stop, until we die, and that’s a part of life — life is a constant striving for improvement, and we’d hate to ever stop wanting to improve, because that means we’re dead, right? Even if that means that as we die, we wonder if we could have been better, and our last thought is, “Am I adequate as a person?” Even if that means we are never happy with ourselves, at least we are striving to be happy with ourselves, right?

What if instead, we learned to be happy with ourselves?

What would happen?

Would we stop striving to improve? Would that be horrible, if we were just content and didn’t need to better ourselves every minute of every week? Would we be lazy slobs, or would we instead be happy, and in being happy do things that make us happy rather than make us better? And in being happy, perhaps we would show others how to be happy? And crazy as it might sound, maybe we’d start a little mini-revolution of happiness, so that people wouldn’t feel so inadequate, or need to spend every dime on products, or spend all their time on self-improvement.

A revolution of contentment.

Think of how this might simplify your life. Think of how many self-improvement books you read, or listen to in the car. Think of how many products you buy to make yourself better. Think of how many things you read online, in the hopes of being better. Think of how many things you do because you feel inadequate. Think of how much time this would free up, how much mental energy.

Realize that you are already perfect. You are there. You can breathe a sigh of relief.

The urge to improve yourself will come up again. Watch it, like a funny little clown trying to tease your soul, but don’t let your soul feel worse for the teasing. Don’t let yourself react to this little clown, nor feel the pain of his attack. Let him do his dance, say his funny things, and then go away.

Quash the urge to improve, to be better. It only makes you feel inadequate.

And then explore the world of contentment. It’s a place of wonderment.

‘Contentment is the greatest treasure.’ ~Lao Tzu

When I wrote about my family doing the No New Gifts Holiday Challenge, I received a couple comments that I was a Grinch:

You must be a drag to live with. ‘What kind of deprivation and sacrifice has Daddy got for us today?’

and

I couldn’t agree more lol, I’m sure kids see him as the Grinch, i feel sorry for them. I doubt his kids would be like ‘Yes dad, don’t buy me the latest Call of Duty game, i don’t want the 1% to get richer.’

While I was touched by the concern for my kids, I am not worried:

• My kids have plenty of video games and electronics (including the latest COD game). They earn money and buy them themselves, and learn that if they want something, they can earn it, and it’s not handed to them.
• My kids have everything they need and much more. If anything, they have too much, but I try not to force my minimalist philosophy on them.
• Instead of deprivation, my kids are learning that there is much more to Christmas than getting a bunch of presents. (More below.)
• They are learning to be creative instead of consuming. This lesson is more necessary today than ever.
• We are learning that spending time with family is more important than spending money or spending time shopping.
• Together we are creating new traditions based on creativity, fun, and giving, not just buying.
• We are thinking of ways to give that don’t necessarily involve shopping — making gifts, volunteering, donating to charity, etc.

The reaction of my kids when I talked to them (once again) about not buying presents? They completely understood my anti-consumerism reasoning, and they were excited to come up with new ideas. Honestly. I was really proud of them when I sat down with them (individually and in groups) and talked about these ideas — they didn’t look disappointed at all, they in fact happily thought of some cool things we could do together.

Some ideas they’re excited about doing this Christmas instead of buying new gifts:

1. Making our own gifts. My son Seth is really, really excited about making stuff. In fact, he wants to make something for himself and wrap it up to open on Christmas morning. Yes, he’s a bit weird, but I love that. Eva wants to sew gifts for people.
2. Baking gifts. We love baking, and it’s a fun activity to do together. And we can give cookies, cupcakes, brownies as gifts to family, make them fatter, but not clutter their homes with needless possessions.
3. Going to play in snow. We’re from Guam, so snow is a novelty for us. My kids know it from Christmas movies and the like, but it’s not a yearly tradition for us — so driving to play in snow is really fun. We love making snow people, snow forts, snow angels, and having snowball fights.
4. Volunteering. We’re not sure where we want to volunteer this year (in past years we’ve done soup kitchens and Salvation Army bell ringing), but we do like the idea of giving.
5. Christmas caroling. We aren’t good singers, but we love singing Christmas songs.
6. Playing games. We love, love board games and other such games. We love getting together with family and playing games and sports. Having fun with family doesn’t have to involve gifts.
7. Make decorations. It’s so much fun to put up festive decorations, and if you can make them yourselves, even better.

And this is just the start of the ideas we’ve come up with. Sure, buying gifts is a holiday tradition — but is it the only possible tradition? Can’t we create new ones?

My kids are not deprived. In fact, I think our family is very lucky, and I hope to show others that creativity, fun, giving, and family bonding are amazing things that you can do without being a participant in the usual consumerism.

Are you ready to participate in the mad shopping frenzy that we partake in every year, not only on Black Friday but all holiday season long?

Are you ready for an incredible burst of spending, for racking up credit card debt, for the stress of buying things for everyone on your list?

Are you ready to consume an insane amount of resources, to have a huge impact on the environment, to work long hours to pay for all that?

Yep, it’s the holiday season again, and with it comes the worst season for consumerism ever.

I say, let’s opt out.

My family and I are issuing a challenge to all my wonderful readers, to the world: The No New Gifts Holiday Challenge.

What is this crazy challenge? It’s simple — follow all these rules:

1. Buy no new gifts during the holidays.

Wait, whaaat? Don’t fret, there are alternatives:

• Make gifts, like crafts or construction type gifts.
• Bake or cook consumable gifts like cookies.
• Give the gift of your service — wash cars, give a massage, babysit, clean a house, mow lawns, etc.
• Buy used gifts at thrift stores.
• Donate to charity, as a group.
• Volunteer at a charity together.
• Have a shared experience together.
• Create something, together, instead of consuming.
• Give to others things you don’t need (a good sewing machine, etc.).
• Find gratitude for what we already have.

Are you in? Take the challenge! It’ll be fun, you’ll save a ton of money, and your family will get creative. Read on.

The Tradition of Traditions

Many people will scoff, and say they love giving gifts. It’s a tradition, after all!

Well, sure. But new traditions can be made if the old ones aren’t working out. And I’d argue the tradition of buying gifts is broken. Read: The Case Against Buying Gifts.

Do we really want to teach our children that giving is really all about buying? Do we want to teach them that to show love, you must buy something? Do we want to set an example of consumerism instead of creativity? Are we saying that the only way a family or friends can get together is if we spend a crapload of needless money?

No. Let’s be more creative. Let’s create new traditions.

What kind of traditions? What if families got together and played games? Built things? Went outdoors to hike, play games, swim, play in the snow, camp out? What if families taught each other how to make things?

What if families got together to help others? Volunteer at a soup kitchen, help others build houses, clean up a neighborhood? Show that giving can be amazing, but it doesn’t have to involve consumerism.

Get creative. Get healthy. Get constructive. Get compassionate.

But teh sales! All the money I’ll save!

I think you know this already, but it’s worth reminding ourselves that when you shop during a sale, you aren’t saving money. You are spending it.

The best way to save money is by not buying at all.

Sure, there are some necessities that we need, but holiday sales are not about necessities. They’re about convincing you that all these TVs, iPads, Kindle Fires, iPods, video game systems, clothes, power tools and more are necessities. You can’t escape buying all this stuff, because it’s Christmas dammit! So come down and save some money, and sign up for store credit while you’re at it.

When retailers offer you a major sale, this is a good time to run in the other direction. They’re trying to trick you into buying something you don’t need. When you see an advertisement for something, anything, it’s a good time to shut off whatever you’re watching, or go to another website. You don’t need it. Opt out of Black Friday, at the very least. (We’ll talk about next year later.)

But … my family won’t!

First, your whole family doesn’t have to do this. Just you. You’ll be an oddball, and some people won’t understand, but you’ll be leading by example. Send them a link to this post, and tell them Leo made you do it. Just because everyone else is doing massive consumerism, doesn’t mean you have to.

Second, don’t be fatalist. Your family might be willing to change, if you at least start the discussion. Again, send a link to this post. Ask them what they think. Challenge them to get creative.

This could save your family thousands of dollars, and be incredibly gratifying in the process. Instead of spending hours of shopping apart from each other, you could be spending hours together, doing things. Celebrate the holidays simply.

Talk about the benefits of changing, and the problems with the way things have been done.

These holidays weren’t always about massive shopping. What did people do before department stores and malls and online retailers? How did they ever survive? Let’s try to remember.

Dealing with Difficult People

Some friends or family members absolutely won’t join you. That’s OK. You don’t need to force this on anyone.

Remember that everyone will change at their own pace, and not everyone will embrace changes like this. They’ll feel threatened, or criticized. You need to try not to come off as critical of others, but more positive.

Tell them that they are not required to join you, but that you want to do this for your own sanity. You are trying to save money, but mostly you want to move away from consumerism. Ask only that they respect this.

Others might insist on getting you presents. Politely ask that they don’t, but if they do, don’t be ungrateful. It can be awkward — for years I’ve asked family not to buy me presents, only to have some of them buy me stuff anyway. I don’t buy them anything, so it’s weird. But these days I just smile, and say thank you, and appreciate the effort. It’s a long education process, trust me.

In the meantime, you can still suggest starting other traditions, like playing games or going outside or volunteering.

Be patient. Others don’t like to be forced into change, so just be the change you want to see in the world.

Life can be a huge struggle, most of the time, and for years it was a struggle for me.

I’ve gradually been learning what causes that struggle, and what works in making life easier, better, smoother.

Life can feel effortless, like you’re gliding along, if you learn to swim smoothly, to glide, to stop fighting the waters of life and start using them to buoy you up.

I stopped thrashing and fighting, and started gliding and enjoying the swim.

I’ve written a new book on this topic, called The Effortless Life, which I’ve now published digitally. Some interesting things about this book:

• It was written publicly, on a public Google Doc, while the world watched. That was tremendously fun — normally writing is a solitary act, but with technology I was able to make it a public act.
• I allowed the world to edit it, as I wrote. That was incredibly scary, giving up control as a writer. When I was done, I had written it in a blur, as everyone edited it … and so I had no idea what changes had been made. I thought I should figure out what changes were made, and whether to keep them or not … but then I just decided to go with the wisdom of the crowd, and kept it as is.
• It’s a compendium of some of the most important things I’ve been learning recently. It builds on some of the things from my previous books, The Power of Less and Focus, but takes them further.
• I’m allowing readers to buy it at any price you like. Pay what you think it’s worth, and what you can afford.

Today, I thought I’d share a few things you can do now, to make life feel more effortless.

Take what you want from this list. I find these things work, but your mileage will vary.

1. Do less. This is my productivity mantra, and it’s counterintuitive. I actually don’t believe in productivity, but instead believe in doing the important things. Do less, and you’ll force yourself to choose between what’s just busywork, and what really matters. Life then becomes effortless, as you accomplish big things while being less busy.

2. Having less is lighter. Start asking yourself if you really need everything you have, or if you just have it out of fear. Start to let go of what you have, so it doesn’t own you. And then, as you have less, you feel lighter. It’s wonderful.

3. Let the little things go. People who struggle often fight over little things. We obsess over things that don’t really matter. We create resistance instead of letting things glide off us. Let the little things go, breathe, and move on to the important things.

4. Clean as you go. I haven’t written about this for a long time, but early in the life of Zen Habits I wrote about the habit of cleaning as you go. Instead of letting the cleaning pile up, put things away when you’re done. Wash your bowl. Wipe the counters clean as you pass them. Sweep up dirt when you notice it. By cleaning a little bit at a time, as you make messes, cleaning up becomes a breeze, and it’s never difficult. By the way, this applies to everything in life, not just cleaning.

5. Make small, gradual changes. Most people are too impatient to follow this advice — they want to do everything at once. We have so many changes to make, but we don’t want to wait a year for it all to happen. As a result, we often fail, and then feel crappy about it. Or we don’t start at all, because so many big changes is intimidating and overwhelming. I’ve learned the hard way that small changes are incredibly powerful, and they last longer. Gradual change leads to huge change, but slowly, and in a way that sticks. And it’s effortless.

6. Learn to focus on the things that matter. This is implied in the items above, but it’s so important I have to emphasize it. Swimming (or any physical activity for that matter) is best done when you do only the motions that matter, and eliminate the extraneous motions. Stop thrashing, start becoming more efficient and fluid. You do this by learning what matters, and cutting out the wasted activity.

7. Be compassionate. This makes dealing with others much more effortless. It also makes you feel better about yourself. People like you more, and you improve the lives of others. Make every dealing with another human being one where you practice compassion.

There are moments when other people just set you off, and you lose your patience.

It is the downfall of many of us — coworkers, children, spouses, other drivers, irritating people on the subway — they can grate, they can anger.

And it can ruin your day. You clench your jaw, you replay imaginary arguments in your head, or worse, you snap. And then you feel like crap.

How can we find the patience?

I will admit that I’m no saint. Just like everyone else, I get annoyed, and I will say things in a less-than-kind tone. I’m learning.

Here’s what helps me:

First, I learn to be aware of the emotions that rush up from nowhere.

I learn to accept those emotions as perfectly fine.

And I watch them, but don’t act.

I will talk to those emotions, like they’re a little child: it’s OK to be mad, but breathe. Talk to the other person, after you’ve calmed down, about the problem.

And then I breathe.

I remind my childlike emotions: other people are different, and that’s good. Celebrate humanity and all its glorious varieties. When people live and work together, there will be friction, and that is a part of the mix of humanity.

I remind: life is too short to waste my days in irritation and anger. Don’t let other people’s problems become my own.

I then give thanks. Gratitude solves all problems. I am grateful for having this friend, or stranger, in my life, and I’m grateful for the chance to even be here, and for the incredible life I have.

I talk to the other person, when I’ve calmed down, with compassion. I respond with love. It often will melt the other person’s jagged edges, and things will go better.

Patience isn’t an easy thing, but the alternative is much worse. Love will triumph if you let it.

A father and his son went fishing on a small boat, hungry.

The father helped his son reel in his first fish, and it was a beauty. “Great catch, son,” the father said.

“Yes, but I’m worried I’m missing out on better fish,” the son said. “What if I could catch a bigger, tastier fish?”

“Maybe you should try,” the father said.

And the son did, catching an even bigger fish an hour later. “A real beaut,” the father said.

“But what if there are better fish out there?” the son asked.

“Maybe you should try,” the father said.

And the son did, catching a bigger fish, then wondering if there were better fish, catching another, and so on.

At the end of the day, the son was exhausted. The father asked, “How did the fish taste?”

The son hesitated. “I’m not sure. I was so busy looking for better fish that I didn’t taste any of them.”

The father smiled contentedly, patted his belly. “Don’t worry. They were delicious.”

—

We are all of us like the son. We all worry, at some time or other, that we’re missing out on things.

It’s why we’re so busy — we take on so much because we don’t want to miss out. We take on dozens of goals and aspirations, because we don’t want to miss out.

But here’s the bare truth: we will miss out, no matter what. It’s inevitable. We cannot do or try everything in the world, even with lives twice as long. We cannot see every town and city, read every interesting book, watch every important film. We will always, always miss out.

Here’s the second, more important truth: if you always worry about what you’re missing out on, you will miss out on what you already have.

Don’t make a reading list a mile long — focus on the book in your hand. Don’t pack your vacation itinerary with every highlight of the city you’re visiting — walk around and enjoy what you find. Don’t worry about traveling the entire world — be delighted with the world around you. Don’t worry about what you’re missing online, or in the news — what you’re doing is good enough.

And let go of your long to-do lists and goal lists. They are a futile attempt to keep from missing out. You will miss out, but in striving to do everything, you’ll miss out on the wonder of the thing you are doing right now.

What you’re doing right now is all that matters. Let the rest go, and enjoy the fish you’ve already caught.

I sat in my hospital room, anxiously twirling the strings that were not securing the gown behind me, waiting for the nurses to wheel me into surgery. My husband squeezed my hand and told me we’d be okay.

Up until that moment, it certainly looked like I had it all.

I’d spent 16 years in the military, and by all accounts, had a bright future in front of me. I wasn’t on the fast track, but my boss valued my ideas and was a gifted mentor. I was engaged with my work and liked my co-workers.

I told myself again and again how lucky I was, but I still felt a kind of euphoria every time I took a day off.

Worse, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the opportunity for the life I’d always wanted was disappearing with each passing year.

It took a tragic loss, my second miscarriage in the space of twelve months, to realize what was nagging me.

Life is too short to not spend it doing what you love.

Sure, sure, we’ve all heard it before. But as I awoke in the recovery room, my belly sore and my emotions crushed from the loss of my second baby, I resolved to find the work that made me feel alive.

I walked away from nearly a million dollars in pay and retirement benefits.

Crazy, right?  Certainly more than one person said so.

Who wants to get paid to be unhappy?

Then a strange thing happened: one person after another confided they were unhappy with their work too. Not the usual malcontents, but smart, vibrant, upward moving people, the ones who also appeared to have it all figured out.

As friends and colleagues asked for my advice about what to do, I struggled with whether they needed a new career, a new job, or just a long vacation on the beach.

Ultimately, I came up with three scenarios where I thought only a new career would do.

1. No “fire in the belly”

When I announced to my dad I wanted to be a scientist, he responded with an experiment of his own: he left copies of magazines like Discover and Scientific American lying around the house.

In two weeks, I never picked one up.  Not once.

What I’ve learned in retrospect is this: if you’re not interested enough in a subject to research it, read about it, play with it, and find others to talk about it – it’s probably not the career for you. And it’s quite possible you haven’t yet discovered the work that excites you—after all, there’s a lot you haven’t experienced.

When you have “fire in the belly,” as my dad called it, you’re willing to put in the time and effort to build your skills, even when you’re frustrated or depressed by how much you still have to learn. It’s what gets you through Seth Godin’s dip.

It wakes you up in the middle of the night with ideas, and then, bleary-eyed, makes you excited to get up in the morning.

I was successful as a scientist, but as my dad’s experiment proved, I didn’t have the fire in the belly. Trust me, it’s worth finding yours.

2. The wrong success

We think we know what success looks like, because society tells us over and over the importance of money, power, and fame. When we want to indicate someone is successful, we almost always invoke their salary or who they know to impress.

There’s nothing wrong with any of those outcomes, but it’s entirely possible they don’t mean as much as you think. If you’ve ever felt a bit empty after winning some big award, you know what I mean.

Define success for yourself, then dare to pursue a career that lets you achieve it. Maybe that means saving elephants in Africa or helping a small business hire their first employee.

If you live your life trying to achieve someone else’s definition of success, you’ll always feel a bit of a sham, no matter how high you go.

3. Trapped behind a mask

Even superheroes like Superman and Spiderman got tired of leading a double life.

One of the things I hear a lot is that people want to be their true selves at work. For example, the military culture demanded I establish my authority and demonstrate my place in the hierarchy. But I’m an egalitarian at heart—I hated treating people differently based on rank alone.

If you’re tired of holding back your true opinions, if you’re tired of working long hours for outcomes you don’t really care about, then it’s time to remove the mask and revel in who you really are.

Don’t let tragedy be your teacher

Some people resist change until a near death experience reminds them they may not have the luxury of waiting until the time is “right.” Others won’t change until they are laid off, admitting they never liked their career anyway.

A friend of mine recently led a workshop for financial executives. He asked them to reveal one thing they were proud of. As he noted, “Not one of them mentioned the size of their office or the make of their car.”

You don’t have to change careers tomorrow. But you should start spending some time figuring out what really matters—to you—today.

It’s not always easy. You’ll have to battle the fear and the voices that want to keep you mired in mediocrity.

I spent 16 years wondering, “what if?”

Letting fear make your decisions, instead of owning what you really want, is a lousy way to live.

Now I can say unconditionally: Ignite that “fire in the belly.” Make yourself proud. Choose courage over comfort.

And when people call you crazy for pursuing your dreams of fulfilling work, remind them what R.D. Laing said, “Madness need not be all breakdown.  It may also be break-through.”

Jennifer Gresham is the founder of the No Regrets Career Academy, which offers a free mini-course in career change.  She’s on a mission to help people make Monday their favorite day of the week.

‘Walk as if you are kissing the Earth with your feet.’ ~Thich Nhat Hahn

Post written by Leo Babauta.

How can you bring calm and peace to the middle of a stress-ful, chaotic day?

The answer is simple, though not always so easy to put into practice: learn to be present.

No matter how out-of-control your day is, no matter how stressful your job or life becomes, the act of being present can become an oasis. It can change your life, and it’s incredibly simple.

When I asked people what things prevent them from having a peaceful day, some of the responses:

• Work, the internet, my own lizard brain.
• Social media and other digital distractions.
• For me it’s too many things coming at me all at once. Whether it’s news, or decisions, or work to be done.
• My four children.
• Dishes, Laundry, Kids.
• Needless interruptions.
• Lack of control. I work in IT, and often “urgent” things will come up that need to be investigated/fixed right away (their definition, not necessarily mine).
• My own monkey mind.

The amazing thing: all of these problems can be solved by one technique. Being Present.

How Being Present Solves Problems

When you look at all of the problems above, you can see if you look closely that the problems are entirely in the mind. Sure, there are external forces at work: an uncontrollable job, the stress of kids and chores and interruptions and digital distractions. But it’s how our mind handles those external forces that is the problem.

If you are completely present, the external forces are no longer a problem, because there is only you and that external force, in this moment, and not a million other things you need to worry about.

If your kid interrupts you, you can stress out because you have other things to worry about and now your kid is adding to your worries or interrupting your calm. Or you can be present, and there is then only you and the child. You can appreciate that child for who she is, and be grateful you have this moment with her.

If your job demands that you focus on an urgent task, you can stress out because you have a million other things to do and not enough time to do them. Or you can be present, and focus completely on that task, and now there is only that one task and you. When you’re done, you can move on to the next task.

Social media and other digital distractions don’t interrupt us if we close them and learn to pour ourselves completely into the present task. And if we need to do email, Twitter, or read blogs, we can set aside everything else and just be present with that one digital task.

Being present becomes, then, a way to handle any problem, any distraction, any stressor. It allows everything else to fade away, leaving only you and whatever you’re dealing with right now.

How to Practice Being Present

The method for being present is fairly simple, but it’s the practice that matters most.

Most people don’t learn to be present because they don’t practice, not because it’s so hard to do.

When you practice something regularly, you become good at it. It becomes more a mode of being rather than a task on your to-do or someday list.

Practice, practice, and being present will become natural.

Here’s how to do it: whatever you’re doing, right now, learn to focus completely on doing that one thing. Pay attention: to every aspect of what you’re doing, to your body, to the sensations, to your thoughts.

You will notice your thoughts, if you’re paying attention, jump to other things. That’s OK — you are not trying to force all other thoughts from your mind. But by becoming aware of that jumping around in your thoughts, you have found the tool for gently bringing yourself back to your present task. Just notice the jumping thoughts, and lovingly come back.

Do this once, then do it again. Don’t worry about how many times you must do it. Just do it now.

It can become tiring at first, if you’re not used to it. Don’t worry about that. Let yourself rest if you grow tired. Come back and practice again in a little while. It’s not meant to be exhausting — instead you should notice how your worries melt away and you enjoy your present task much more.

Be joyful in whatever you’re doing, grateful that you’re able to do that task, and fully appreciate every little movement and tactile sensation of the task. You’ll learn that anything can be an amazing experience, anything can be a miracle.

Practice throughout your day, every day. Little “mindfulness bells” are useful to remind you to come back to the present. Thich Nhat Hanh once recommended that stoplights be your mindfulness bell as you drive. You can find mindfulness bells everywhere: your child’s voice, your co-workers appearing before you, a regular event on your computer, the noise of traffic.

Meditation is a fantastic way to practice, only because it removes much of the complexity of the world and allows you to just learn to be aware of your mind, and to bring yourself back to the present moment. It’s not complicated: meditation can be done anywhere, anytime. A meditation teacher is useful if you can find one.

Practice, repeatedly, in small easy beautiful steps. Each step is a wonder in itself, and each practice helps you to find that calm in the middle of the traffic of your life.

‘Drink your tea slowly and reverently, as if it is the axis
on which the world earth revolves – slowly, evenly, without
rushing toward the future. Live the actual moment.
Only this moment is life.’ ~Thich Nhat Hanh