Today I was walking home from a visit with a friend, listening to Zen Howl, by Natalie Goldberg. Natalie said, “Talent is like a water table under the earth and you tap it with your effort and then it comes through you.”

And I thought, yes! Effort. That’s what it takes.

But, I then thought, what if your effort is directed in the wrong way? What if you dig in the wrong direction? Effort will only tap us into the water table of talent if we use skill. Right?

That’s why the Buddha went on about skillful means. Right? That’s why I listen to Natalie Goldberg talking about writing. So that when I sit down to write I am practicing to become a more and more skillful writer.

I’ve sat for days on end in a zendo with Natalie. So I had a fairly clear image of her as I listened through my headphones. And I could imagine what she might say to me next.

“Don’t worry so much, Marianne. Why do you need to know what is ‘right’ and what is ‘wrong’?”

(And, I suspect, she might tell me I’m asking the wrong questions. That’s what she said to me when I asked her whether she found it harder to write fiction or non-fiction, which I now agree was a pretty silly question.)

Effort.
Practice.
Craft.
Skill.
Passion.
Persistence.

We need all of them. And we need curiosity. And desire. We need our primary hungers, as Rachel calls them.

And perhaps most of all, we need humility. I need humility. The humility to accept that I won’t find the answers to all my questions. That simply finding the questions themselves is sometimes my practice.

So for tonight, I’ll keep practicing my yoga, my writing, my digging. And if I hit that water table, I’ll be sure to let you know where it is.

Related posts:

1. Live the life you haven’t imagined
2. Living the questions
3. In Times of War, Feed the Right Wolf

The first (VERY) good thing this week is that my book is available for sneaky-sneaky pre-launch preview. It won’t actually be official launched until the end of February. But if you are in the know (which you obviously are, since you are here), you can buy it now through this online store. If you have any trouble with that link, try copying and pasting this into a new browser window:

http://tinyurl.com/ZenUnderFire

If you are in New Zealand you can wait and buy it in your local bookstore in late February/March. But if you are elsewhere, buying through this site will be your best bet. This edition (by Penguin NZ) won’t be available on Amazon.

Next week I’m going to be offering a special sneak-preview package (including a brand new, never been offered before online course) to anyone who buys Zen Under Fire online. So if you go ahead and buy it this week, keep your email receipt from Fishpond and you’ll be eligible.

2. How to do yoga and not die (well, not immediately at least)

This response from Sarah Miller to the New York Times ‘How Yoga Can Wreck Your Body‘ article made me laugh out loud. She argues that the New York Times has to write articles like this because “about the only thing that will get upper-middle-class coast dwellers into a frenzy is the idea … that Some Day They Are Going To Fucking Die.” She also suggests that ”if you think of yoga as a great way to breathe more, well, you’re not going to get hurt,” which convinced me I never wanted to miss another of Sarah’s articles.

(The Observer put together a list of the 10 best responses to that New York Times article. I vote for Sarah’s but some of the others are worth a read too. But only if you’re not to going sit and read articles about yoga instead of doing yoga. Yes, I may be speaking from experience.)

3. Chakras in the combat zone?

One of the questions I ask myself about my plan to take my yoga workshops to Afghanistan is just how ready people working in a combat zone are to talk about their energy bodies or the effect savasana pose can have on their parasympathetic nervous system.

Turns out I’m not alone in pondering this question, as Mette Muller proves in ‘Don’t tell them you’re a healer – spirituality in the development discourse.’

Given that I have friends who have taught yoga on oil rigs, and in prisons and army bases, I’m pretty confident it can be taught anywhere. But I might want to leave some of my more flowery yoga language at home. Note to self, when teaching on an army base: that is not his third chakra, those are his rock hard abs.

4. Choice things in the Big Apple

If you live in or near New York and have any interest at all in New Zealand culture (and if you’ve ever seen the Flight of the Conchords, heard Liam Finn play or watched the film Boy then my guess is you do) then you’ll want to get on The Choice List. Presented with the support of the famous Kiwi coffee and pie shop Dub Pies (bringing handmade, authentic Australian/New Zealand-style gourmet meat pies to New York City), The Choice List is selected by Gemma Gracewood who once worked for New Zealand’s Minister for Culture, now plays in one of New Zealand’s best loved bands and knows everything you need to know about the best of New Zealand in New York.

5. Time to teach

Do you have something you would love to teach, but wonder whether you are really ready? Or when you get to be ‘qualified enough’? Teach Now is the course that helped me grow in confidence as a teacher, and Jen Louden and Michelle Lisenbury, are now two of my favorite people and most admired teachers on the planet. Registration for Teach Now with a bonus year of free integration calls closes today. For teachers who are soulful, connected, wise, and inspiring. Or those who ready to be.

No related posts.

So you might be surprised to learn that our conversation was about the fact that passion is not enough. Nor is enthusiasm. Or persistence. Or even good intentions.

As the woman who is at the receiving end of many thousands of impassioned emails, letters and parcels making that case that 16 year old Pierre of France is, in fact, the incarnation of Gloin, or that 58 year old Ravn of Norway is the very epitome of Aragorn, my friend has some idea of the power of passionate persistence.

What she also knows, however, is that passionate persistence will not get you a part in The Hobbit. Not unless you are a skilled professional actor (she does make an exception for children) represented by a reputable agent.

I’ve been thinking about the limits of passion lately because I see the same thing come up in all the spheres of my life.

In humanitarian and aid work it takes the form of the debate about the potentially harmful impact of enthusiastic amateurs in the aid sector, and the mantra that ‘good intentions are not enough’, which I’ve written about here before. Just as passionate persistence without professional skills won’t get you a part in The Hobbit, good intentions without skillful means may not do the good intended. In fact, it may even do considerable harm to the very people it is trying to help.

In writing and publishing, we talk about building our online platform, and using tools like Twitter to connect with agents and publishers. All of which is good (and helped me find both my agent and my publisher), but are we directing as much emphasis and energy to the practice and craft of writing? I know in my own case it often isn’t.

In yoga, the potentially harmful impact of passionate persistence without appropriate skill was explored in an article in the New York Times this week. While the article, in my opinion, unfairly emphasised the risks of yoga without explaining that any well-trained, professional yoga teacher will take precautions to ensure that every student in their class is safe, it does make the very valid – and important – point, that yoga practice without skillfulness may do as much harm as good.

Over dinner this week I proposed to my passionate friends that there is an over-emphasis – in contemporary, popular thought – of the value of passion and perseverance. People are being sold the idea that if they feel passionately enough about [their writing/saving lives in Haiti/Peter Jackson’s films] then all they need do is follow their passion, and never give up.

And I don’t think that’s true. I think people are being sold short.

They are putting their time and energy into sending their unpolished manuscript to publishers whose websites clearly state that they do not accept unsolicited manuscripts. Or they’re sending their tenth email to the casting director for The Hobbit, telling her that she clearly doesn’t understand how passionate they are about the book. They’re setting up new not-for-profits that replicate the work of existing, more experienced organisations, or sending second-hand shoes to a country where local shoe-makers need the work themselves.

Their persistence is NOT translating into them making the changes they are passionate about. The things they want to say are not being heard by the people who they passionately want to communicate with. Why? Because they lack the skill to know the best way to translate their passion into effective action.

Which is not to say that passion and perseverance are unimportant. They are essential. But passion + persistence have to be employed with skill.

Skill doesn’t have to require a masters degree in fine art, or development studies. It may be as simple as checking the publisher/casting director/not-for-profit’s website before you hit send on that email. It might be as humble as accepting that when they say “We don’t accept unsolicited manuscripts/resumes/gifts in kind” it does apply to you.

It’s means doing your research. Studying your chosen field. Finding, and learning from, a skilled teacher or mentor. This applies as much to the processes by which your work gets done in the world as well as to the craft of the work itself.

Passion and perseverance need to be directed towards something. They need to be directed towards becoming more and more skillful.

This morning I sat in on a yoga class taught by a friend, a teacher whose technical skills I deeply respect. After class I asked her to explain to me exactly what I should be looking for in one particular pose, what common misalignments I should be aware of, and how to teach the pose safely. Every week I read new articles about developments in human rights, humanitarian and development assistance. I’m always learning, always testing my theories, always exploring new debates.

And when it comes to writing, like yoga, I practice every day. My aspiration is to develop increasingly skillful means to communicate through my writing and to serve through my teaching.

The challenges facing our planet are not trivial. The opportunities to tell new stories and find new solutions to old problems are unprecedented.

The world needs your contribution.

May you find your passion. May you build your stamina. And may you become increasingly skillful, so that you make the unique contribution that only you can make in this world.

Related posts:

1. Be Well. Do Good. The Girl Effect and You.
2. Don’t Mind Me, I’m Peacefully Engaged
3. Five questions with a change-maker: Michele Lisenbury Christensen

But this week I wanted to make sure you didn’t miss out on a few time-sensitive things, so I’m sharing this list earlier than usual.

Making space

I’ve been on a massive clear-out/declutter/space-making mission for the past week, which is a fantastic (though dusty and surprisingly emotional) way to start a new year. If you think you might like to do something similar, here are some great resources…

My friend Leo Babautu is leading a ClutterFree Challenge (you can sign up for free here) and he recorded a free tele seminar on decluttering which you can watch here.

I’m convinced I can take the process of making space and lightening my load further (what if as well as those jeans that don’t fit me anymore, I let go of ideas about myself that I’ve also long outgrown?). So I’ve signed up for Go Lightly, a lovely little offering from Lisa Baldwin of Zen at Play, who says that space-making can be a journey of discovery, lighting up old stuff in new ways.

Non-resolutions

I didn’t make any New Years resolutions (I never do), but I did come up with some New Years desires. Other approaches to the New Year that I think are cool:

Tara’s 12 Questions for the New Year,

Karen’s non-goals and

Alessandra’s review of the year that was.

Events & Courses

If you are in Sydney, and you are interested in the intersection between yoga and social action you might be interested in an Off the Mat, Into the World Yoga in Action workshop I’m leading at the end of this month. It runs for two days, Saturday 28 & Sunday 29 January and you can read more and sign up here.

There are often amazing retreats and events happening far, far away from New Zealand, so if you live in New Zealand and have wished that you could hop on a magic carpet to get to Squam Art Workshops or the Creative Joy retreat I’m co-leading next year – the very wonderful Leonie Wise may have a solution for you.

If you teach or want to teach, I highly recommend the Teach Now course with Jen Louden and Michelle Lisenbury (that’s a magic affiliate link) – Jen and Michelle are a powerful combination of joy and deep wisdom and this was probably the most nourishing thing I’ve ever done for myself as a teacher.

Meanwhile, if you know that you have more to say, do and be in the world but keep playing small, then the Playing Big course offered by Tara Sophia Mohr might be just right for you. I have enormous respect for Tara’s intelligence, her insight and her ability to facilitate pretty big changes in the lives of the women she works with. Also highly recommended (and also an affiliate link).

This week’s hot deal

Danielle la Porte was the first ever business strategist I worked with. I had one of her Fire Starter sessions way back when and she lit a fire under my entrepreneurial ass. Since then she’s turned her sessions into a course ( The Spark Kit), and now into what is certain to be a best-selling book (The Firestarter Sessions). Today, for just 24 hours, she is offering The Spark Kit on a pay-what-you-can basis to anyone who pre-orders The Firestarter Sessions. Danielle is whip-smart. The Spark Kit has been one of the most useful business tools I’ve ever come across. If you’ve been thinking of checking it out, today’s the day (it’s about to be retired)

No related posts.

I was celebrating New Year’s Eve with a handful of very close friends, plus the guest of one of those friends. That guest was Ella Saltmarsh, who has just finished writing a feature-length screenplay set in Kabul. Ella works “at the intersection between storytelling and strategy” and she is ‘evangelical’ about using the creative industries to build a fairer world. She’s also a yogini.

As you might have guessed, we had plenty to talk about. And then, just as the conversation was getting going, Ella asked me -

Do you have any plans to get back into the field?

As I started to answer, I found myself tearing up and realised that I haven’t been paying much attention to how much I miss living and working in places like Afghanistan. I’ve been telling myself that work in Afghanistan is better done by Afghans, and that I don’t need to look any further than my own neighbourhood to find opportunities to use my passion for storytelling to support social justice and change.

And at the same time, I’ve been quietly applying for short-term consultancy positions with various UN agencies and as I miss out on one after the other, slowly losing my confidence. Without wanting to admit it, I’ve been inching towards the conclusion that yoga teaching is the only marketable skill I have left to offer ‘in the field’.

So do I have any plans to go back into the field? Yes, actually I do. Or more accurately, I have a won’t-go-away, ache-in-my-belly desire for it. What I need is a plan. More on that soon. For now it was enough to acknowledge it.

Then she asked -

What are you working on now?

And – despite the fact that I’m working like a crazy person at running a restaurant, launching a book, teaching yoga, creating a new online course for change-makers, and setting up a co-working space and a communications collective – I felt like I had nothing to tell her.

Why? Because I couldn’t think of anything I was working on that related to our shared passion for that intersection between storytelling and strategy, between communication and social change.

Of course in one sense, everything I do touches on that space. But – I realised in that moment – not quite in the way I need it to. Some of the projects I’m working on have potential to get closer and closer to filling that space. But for now they are only tangentially related.

And I want more.

Some wise(er than me) friends of mine talk often about the importance of desire.

Jen calls it “Being committed to living your truth more than anything. Even more than your own comfort. Certainly more than your own ego.”

Danielle says “Follow your desired emotion.”

‘Don’t analyze it too deeply’, she says. ‘Just let it roll and rumble a bit. It may be there to humble you, expand you, heal, surprise or reinvent you.’

So this year, although I don’t have any New Year’s resolutions, I do have some New Year’s desires to follow.

Starting with these desires:

• to write more meaty posts, to explore those ‘big’ ideas and questions that lurk on the edges of my mind, tempting me to dive into deep caves of reading and thinking.
• to write more for the Huffington Post (last year I earned myself a regular gig on HuffPo and then proceeded to write all of two pieces in eight months) and to be smart, professional and bold about seeking other writing opportunities.
• to go back to Afghanistan – and work with Afghan writers/storytellers to co-craft stories that explore the relationship between Afghans and internationals working there.

Those are the desires that made themselves known to me in the form of tears and discomfort at the dinner table on New Year’s Eve. So I figured they were a good place to start.

I’ll be kicking things off this week with a post on why I think passion isn’t enough – for writing, do-gooding or yoga. Next week I’ll be posting a substantial piece here and at the Huffington Post. Like I said, I have some big ideas and questions to explore. I hope you’ll come exploring with me.

I’ll also be creating one post per week here with links to things I want to share with you. I come across so many amazing things and although I share them on Twitter and Facebook, I just want to put the very best of them together in one place. So I’m going to follow that desire too.

And I’ll continue my series of interviews with change-makers because I love finding out what makes the people I admire and respect tick. These interviews will continue to be erratic in their frequency, since I’m not making resolutions here, just following my desires, remember!

Any desires lurking for you? Anything you haven’t quite admitted you want, despite the deep pull in your belly?

I recommend a Desire-Amnesty. Give yourself permission, just for a moment, to want what you want. Take a break – just for this one time – from the reasons why you shouldn’t want it. Let yourself desire what you desire. And then follow that desire. Even just for a few steps. Let’s see where our desires take us.

As Danielle said, they may be there to humble us, expand us, heal, surprise or reinvent us.

No related posts.

This has been one heck of a year and I need a proper rest. This year I’ve sent a book off to the printers, opened a restaurant, created three new online courses, sold and bought houses and well, you get the picture.

I’ve been tested. And I’ve found myself short. I’ve pushed myself to the limits of my endurance, my stamina, my patience and my faith. There have been tears, moments of pure panic, curses, tantrums and tears. Did I mention there have been tears?

I’ve been reminded over and over again of just how very human I am. And have come to know my limits and my ‘flaws’ more clearly than ever before. The same has been true of the people I love and work with most closely.

And at the end of it all one thing stays with me above all else: we are GOOD.

We are all good people.

Yes, we’re all human, quirky in our own way, and with an all-too-clear awareness of our own ‘flaws’. But deep down every one of us wants to do good and be kind and sometimes my heart almost bursts from the beauty of it.

Today that’s all I really want to leave you with – a reminder that you are deeply good, that you are doing your very best to do good and be kind. And that you are so utterly, wonderfully enough.

I want to remind you of that because when we remember that, we ease up on ourselves and everything in life feels little bit kinder, a little bit gentler. And a little bit more peaceful.

So as you slide towards the the close of 2011, please remember you are good. And be kind to yourself, it’ll make everything a little bit easier.

With love,

Marianne

No related posts.

It is going to be joyful, creatively potent and lots of fun. And today we are launching a very special offer ($280 worth of specialness) for anyone who signs up with a friend by 20 December.

But first, what makes me think this is going to be so special?

Well you can watch this video, or you can read on to find out (whichever you choose – make sure you read the bit at the bottom with the special offer, I don’t want you to miss that!)

Jen is special

For one thing, Jen Louden literally wrote the book on retreats for women, her The Women’s Retreat Book has helped many thousands of women find rest, refreshment and creative joy through retreat. I’ve been on retreat with Jen and the woman knows her stuff. She creates structure and space for the kind of transformation that can happen during retreat, while keeping everything easy, fun and totally accesible to someone who’s never done anything like this before. 

Jen is a best-selling author whose famous writing retreats have been called: amazing, wonderful, relaxing, needed, joyful, mindful, juicy, delicious, inviting, magical, soul-nourishing, transformational, life-altering and even life-saving. Uh huh.

Susannah is special

Related posts:

1. ‘Love Melts Fear’ – Best of 2009: Challenge
2. More on writing memoir
3. New year, old stories

Guest post from Trust Tender, Kristin Noelle

Early this week, Consumer Reports ran a national survey in the U.S. that reported that having to interact with certain relatives is one of the top things people dread about the holiday season.

I’m aware even as I type that sentence how ingrained the impulse is to look away from that reality – how difficult it is to name something (e.g. familial challenges) that carries with it so much potential for feelings to get hurt, toes to get stepped on, and hearts to get burned.

Because aren’t holidays all about warmth and cheer? Isn’t the point of them celebration? And aren’t families the heart of the heart of everything – the place where love is supposed to most beautifully and all-encompassingly flourish?

If we blow the cover on all of that and expose ourselves or our families as the messy, awkward, insecure bunch we all are (no matter how lovable), it can feel like we’re trampling an important, cultural storyline. So as with our earliest unspoken agreements, when we start to talk about our actual experiences with family, it can feel like the sky will surely fall.

I want to gently, but firmly, give voice to a different story completely.

I want to speak of the sky – the sky of hope, and of the capacity to grow into full adult maturity – that falls, and falls, and continues to fall when we stay silent about or perpetually distracting ourselves from what isn’t working for us in our families.

I want to speak of the sky that opens and expands and infuses us with trust as we take steps to name honestly what our experiences have been and what we want to try to learn from them and to heal.

I want to draw new lines around what love is that don’t exclude, but actually encompass expressions of anger, bitterness, and resentment, and that leave ample room for “this isn’t working for me” and “I’m sorry, but I need to have more space.” Lines that recognize healing takes time, and love can be present, in all its messy guises, well the whole way through.

And I want to suggest that the most beautiful, hopeful story of growth and healing and peace-on-earth-good-will-toward-all – in our individual lives, in our families, and in our broader world – may actually have nothing to do with downplaying struggle or keeping up positive appearances, and everything to do with getting as honest and awake as we can be about where we’ve come from, where we are now, and where we wish to grow.

—-
Kristin Noelle is a Los Angeles based writer, artist, and healer. Her sketch blog, Trust Tending, explores conscious moves we can make to nourish trust. She recently launched an ebook titled Unspiking the Holiday Punch: A Trust Tending guide to self-kindness before, during, and after extended family time – a comforting, practical guide to navigating the relational challenges of holiday gatherings.

No related posts.

What is it about the holidays that makes them so stressful?

Inner peace-keeping doesn’t mean we have to get rid of those external triggers. It’s about cultivating the qualities that help us meet those triggers with awareness and loving kindness. 

Eric Klein

Eric has been a spiritual teacher, for the past two decades, and he created and teaches the course Healing Family Karma in which he teaches specific practices, methods and teachings, including meditative techniques for healing family wounds and becoming non-reactive to “trigger” people.

Jen Louden

Jen wrote six books on well-being and personal wisdom that have sold just shy of 900,000 copies and have been printed in 9 languages. She has studied yoga and meditation since she was 12 and has been teaching since she was 28, when her first book became a word-of-mouth best-seller.

Free Healing Family Karma Call

Weds at 1.00pm Pacific Time (Thurs at 10am NZ time)

Sign up:  http://bit.ly/familykarmacall

Related posts:

1. On savoring and serving: my curly questions for Jen Louden

Awakening

Buff off routine. Polish away habit.
Sharpen your crystal mind with silent time.
Wake yourself by praying to the gods.

Surrender all of image. Let go of your outside eyes.
Be a foolish animal, gaping at the forest.
Be clumsy and too much and wide-eyed.

Kill the thing that pulls back the reins,
and run.

Tara Sophia Mohr

(from her new collection Your Other Names)

Related posts:

1. Write a new chapter in the story of poverty