Newsletter Issue 5

In 2000, I asked a friend to coach me through a life transition: I was about to quit my full-time job to take a trip around the world. Also, I was planning to spend the next three years giving my dream of writing full time the best shot I had given it to date.

She shared with me an activity, which I will share with you here. It's a potent metaphor for the patterns we embrace when we let go of the old to create room for the new in our lives. All that's required for this activity are a few art materials you probably have lying around the house. Also helpful is a willingness to pay attention to what you experience and stay open to how that corresponds to your patterns when faced with life's transitions.

Try this (you'll need 30 uninterrupted minutes):

1. Set out some art supplies such as construction paper or old magazines, glue stick, crayons, tissue paper, scissors, and any recyclable materials you have in your junk drawer.
2. Set a kitchen timer for 10 minutes. Important: this is so you can focus on the activity, not a clock.
3. Create something with the materials you've laid out - anything - such as a collage, greeting card, puppet, or abstract sculpture. These are only suggestions. You don't need to have a particular outcome in mind. Just start cutting, gluing, or combining the materials in any way that suits you. If you're thinking, "I'm not artistic," no worries: art skills aren't required.
4. However, you must complete whatever you start. You have 10 minutes. Go to it.
5. When the timer goes off, you're done. Scissors, glue, crayons down.
6. Now, destroy what you've just created. That's right. Destroy it and make it good. Shred it with your bare hands (my personal favorite), cut it up with the scissors, burn it (carefully), twist it, soak it in a pot of water, but most certainly destroy it.
7. Set the timer again for 10 minutes. (This will be the last time.)
8. Now, create something from what you've just destroyed. You may add new materials to it.
9. When the timer goes off, finish your project, and examine your creation.

What do you notice? What were you feeling at each stage? How easy, hard, or satisfying was it to create? Destroy? Create something new from what you decimated? What connections can you make to your patterns during life transitions?

If you want to create shifts in your patterns based on what you learned, try the activity more than once. Try it several times. Notice if, just by repetition, you become more comfortable with a phase (such as destruction) that was previously uncomfortable. If not, ask yourself, "What do I need to make this easier?" Your answer will likely be a useful metaphor you can apply to real life.

I'd love to know what you experience. Send me an e-mail and tell me about it. It's just between us but, if you're in the mood, I'd love to include it in the "Readers Write" section of a future newsletter.

In addition to being available through 20 online booksellers including Walmart, Barnes&Noble, Amazon U.S., France, Germany and Japan, The Lesson of the Paper Clips is also available at these retail stores:

Bookstores
Chapter One - Ketchum, ID
Burgundy Books - East Haddam Village, CT

Gift Shops
Datura, a Modern Garden - Middletown, CT
Design Forum - Farmington, CT
Hands-On Supplies - Newington, CT; Groton, CT

Overwhelmed by the prospect of marketing her book given a full-time job and other responsibilities, in the previous episode, Gina's answer to a friend's coaching question - "What if it were fun?" put her on track to market her book as a "want" not a "should." In this installment, she puts the fun into practice.

I recently sold books to a local gift shop to carry in their inventory. I hadn't planned to target this particular shop. However, one Saturday morning when I passed the shop en route to a meeting, I spontaneously decided to approach them. As I whizzed by in my Toyota, I thought, "That would be a great place for my book."

I learned from authors I've met over the years to always be prepared to conduct business. That means, I dress well, have a stash of books in my car, and a favorite pen for signing. After my meeting, I pulled into the store's parking lot and went inside the shop. I'm familiar with this gift shop, but I browsed the inventory for five minutes to confirm my hunch and ease my way into the sale. Opposite the cash register was a lovely display of offbeat giftbooks similar to my own. I surmised that the man on the phone was the owner or at least someone with the authority to make buying decisions for the store. I was right - he and his wife own the shop.

With my book in hand, we briefly discussed sales figures. He asked me to call the store on Monday and speak with his wife as she is the buyer. On Monday, I called, finalized the sale, and delivered copies of my book in exchange for a check from a man I had met only two days before.

Total time among the initial visit, follow-up call, book drop, and penning a thank you note: 90 minutes. Nothing about this transaction remotely resembled work. When marketing my book, this is precisely where I need to be.

The Leap continues in the May/June issue and I don't know what will happen next because I'm living it…

Beth from Bloomfield, Conn. writes: "Sometimes, mostly when I'm facing something uncomfortable or tough, I visualize my ego as an Ego Egg Carton. It has many cups for holding my ego eggs:

• Mom
• Manager
• Yoga Teacher
• Writer
• Dancer
• Mystic
• Organizer
• Quilter/Fiber artist
• Friend
• Daughter
• Etc. - you get the picture

I always make the carton bigger than the number of cups currently in use. That way when something bumps into my picture of myself or I fail at something or someone criticizes me, instead of being crushed, I simply shift my ego energy around - sometimes emptying one cup and filling another.

For example, work is very stressful right now. So to keep an even keel on the job without getting smashed into a quivering puddle, the Manager ego cup is emptying into the Writer/Quilter/Fiber Artist cup. Plus, I always keep the Yoga cup filled. This way, I always have something I feel good about."

Tell me about your Symbol Life. How have your own metaphors for living shaped you? What leaps have you taken? I'd love to hear about them.

Thanks for taking time to read my newsletter. I'll be writing to you again in June.

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