What Becoming Visible Has Taught Me

When I ran the New Year’s Revolution challenge at the start of the year, I set myself a challenge for 2016. And that was to become more visible. And share my many stories. For me that meant putting my whole self out there. Not hiding behind a screen or a mask, but showing up, as I am.

And that’s some tough scary shit. Because it’s really hard to meet yourself as you are and a) be okay with yourself and b) show that to the world.

For me, a big part of becoming visible meant sharing my whole story, not just the good bits; the bits that sound great on paper. But instead telling the whole thing. Messy bits, the ugly bits and the bits I’d change if I was re-writing it.

I’ve written a lot recently about sharing your story and it’s one of my core beliefs that the world needs to hear the messy, complicated, stories. But that doesn’t mean it’s easy.

While I was sick of hiding the complicated bits and things that didn’t make sense, I’ve been terrified to really show myself. 

And I know I’m not alone in this. So many of us are living this same struggle. And sometimes our logic isn’t rational, but it feels very real and serious to us.

I mean, I nearly didn’t start my podcast because I’m fat. How does that even make sense? I mean, what the fuck is that about?!

And I’ve been shy in sharing my own mental health struggles because I feared that it would discredit my ability to talk about wellbeing, overcoming burnout and living a wholehearted life. (This, I also learned, is bollocks).

So many of us who are fighting for a brighter, better world have struggles and don’t have our shit together. And like I’ve written before, no one wants real life advice from the person who claims that they never have and never will have problems because life is magical. In some ways, having problems makes us most qualified to do it.

But to me, at that time, showing up fully, with both the shit and giggles was a serious concern.

In this self help world of green smoothies and yoga at 5am, I had so many mixed feelings as showing up the way I am.

As a fat woman who struggles with her mental health , the world makes so many assumptions and I didn’t want that.

But I’d started to define myself by my struggles and not by my unique combination of skills and strengths or the passion that I have to make the world a brighter place.

And because I’d already figured out in my own head how people would react, (which FYI, didn’t come true. At all) I’d scared myself shitless about it.

But someway along the way, I realised that becoming visible wasn’t this horrible, scary thing that would mean the end to life as I knew it.

It was a lot like closing your eyes, squeezing your hands tightly together and blurting out what you’ve wanted to say for a while, then coming up to air and realising the world hasn’t ended.

It gave me life. It felt absolutely invigorating to actually put myself out there. To log into skype and have deep intimate conversations with women all over the world for my podcast was terrifying to begin with, but has quickly become one of my all time favourite things to do.

Launching a New Year’s Revolution email course was exciting and so refreshing. Jumping on Skype with people I’ve only known via email has only made our relationships better.

Instead of doing it for the sake of a challenge, putting myself out there actually became fun. I learned that as much as I tell myself otherwise to keep myself safe, I thrive on connecting with other like minded people. I absolutely love talking to people and getting to know their stories. I love showing up as my bright coloured self, being really honest and trying to make the world a better place.

And the last four months have taken me to some pretty amazing places.

I actually started the podcast I put off for so long and it has been even more beautiful than I ever could have dreamt of. Then I put it into the world with some radical honesty and interviewed the most incredible women, and The Couragemakers Podcast ended up in New & Noteworthy (say whaaaat?).

And I’ve enjoyed (enjoyed!) being interviewed for some other amazing podcasts. I shared my struggles with being in the entrepreneur world and my upcoming round the world adventure with VK the VA for her wonderful podcast Behind The Boss Mask and got seriously honest with Sarah Starrs about multipotentiality, the truth and myths behind lifestyle design and uninstagrammable self care on her Punk Rock Personal Development Podcast.

And to put the icing on the cake, I’ve become really open about my own mental health struggles and also really spoken out about my life as a fat woman with Rose Gold (which comes out on Thursday!)

And I’ve learned something huge through this experience:

Hiding yourself from the world not only does a great disservice to yourself, but it gives a great disservice to the world.

The world needs your story. The world needs more raw and honest stories. And you’ll be surprised just how not alone you are when you start sharing.

Like courage breeds courage, honest breeds honesty and stories breed stories.

Showing up as yourself, owning your own story is a radical thing to do, especially in this world where we’re told that only so many stories count.

Because your story does count, the same way as you matter.

You have so much to give the world. And you’re going to enjoy your life so much more where you can really step into your life and claim your spot on the stage.

Introducing The Couragemakers Podcast

In extremely exciting news, The Couragemakers Podcast launched this week! And it has blown my mind. I started Couragemakers because I wanted to speak to women all over the world, women like you and me - mission driven doers, makers and world shakers, about their dreams, their stories, and get really vulnerable and courageous about what sets them on fire as well as the monsters that hide under their beds.

Because putting stuff in the world takes a shitload of courage, and sometimes it feels like a lonely and scary place.

And I wanted to start a movement (download the beautiful manifesto here).  A movement of women choosing ourselves, owning and sharing our stories, and embracing and celebrating our every day courage.

I can't tell you how much I'm enjoying the experience, how much I have been blown away by the conversations I've had. How honest they've been, how inspiring every woman I've spoken to has been, and how willing they are to share their stories to help others.

This has been such a journey for me. Going from a job that sucked the soul out of me, left me feeling a shell of the person I once was, and feeling like I had nothing to give to the world, to THIS - it's amazing. I feel like I'm using my strengths and skills to put the great shit into the world I was meant to. It's been vulnerable as hell, but seriously, I am enjoying every second of it. (Well, perhaps not when the editing goes wrong, or the mic plays up... but you get what I mean.) 

I even released a prequel where I got SERIOUSLY vulnerable and honest about my vision for the podcast and why I started the podcast. 

If you haven't checked out the podcast and you're a mission-driven doer, maker or world shaker, I think you're going to really enjoy the honest and vulnerable conversations we're having.

If you want to subscribe on iTunes click here.

If you use Android, click here.

And because I'm all about celebrating the shit out of your wins, here's how the Couragemakers has gone down this week. (Eg. This is really surreal, and holy shit this is fantastic!)

The reactions and support have been AMAZING:

Finally getting started on the brand new #Couragemakers Podcast today! @megkissack Because I could always use more inspiration

— Ashley Lorelle (@ash_lorelle) March 2, 2016

Loving the #Couragemakers manifesto by @megkissack - now displayed behind my computer to remind me what's important pic.twitter.com/5GzllRMsIN

— Kate (@iamkateevans) March 2, 2016

If you haven't checked out @megkissack's podcast get you are missing out my friend. https://t.co/WhZg2d9W6G

— Melissa Hebbe (@melissahebbe) March 3, 2016

@megkissack Found your blog this week and have been bingelistening to your podcast, Meg! I'd love to take part in your twitter chat :)

— Wendy (@TheGratefulist) March 3, 2016

Congrats @megkissack on the launch of The CourageMakers Podcast today! Go listen, it's amazing & Meg is lovely! https://t.co/MejbpvRD9n

— Michelle Anneliese (@manneliesemedia) February 29, 2016

New #Podcast launched #Couragemaker by @megkissack Important and inspiring conversations. Cheer up this rainy day and listen to it.

— AnabelRoqueRodriguez (@anabelroro) February 29, 2016

Literally cried reading @megkissack's Couragemakers Manifesto. Want to know how I feel about life? Read it! https://t.co/kuqvTOAmko

— Maria Northcott (@asweetstart) February 29, 2016

Umm, New & Noteworthy in iTunes?

AHHHH!!

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My aim right now is to spread this podcast to every woman that needs it. I'm doing this by trying to get it into the top 16 of iTunes New & Noteworthy. If it gets into that exclusive spot, then it will be seen by literally millions of people. Think how many people we could inspire through that! If you want to help get it out to the world in a BIG way, leave a review/rating on iTunes and subscribe following this link here! 

And this came from a woman who thought she might be able to make something kind of cool and put it off for a year because she didn't have the confidence, was being scared of being visible and didn't like the sound of her own voice.

Here's to courage and spreading it like fucking wildfire.

Photo on 04-02-2016 at 14.25

You’re not Brené Brown, but you’ve still got a story

I just want to start by saying that I love Brené Brown. I’ve watched the TED talks, bought the books, didn’t buy the t-shirt because it was too expensive.And I love the ‘others’ too - you know who I mean. The big name people talking about big ideas and concepts in profound way.

I find them inspiring, their work definitely influences my work, and I love travelling or sitting in a coffee shop with Audible on, listening to their latest books.

But I think there’s been a shift.

There’s been a shift, in that if you’re thinking about, writing about or wanting a quote about vulnerability or shame, you google Brené Brown. If you want inspiration about creativity - you turn to Elizabeth Gilbert.

The great part is that vulnerability, creativity, shame and fear have become part of normal conversations.

The not so great part? It’s like we’ve stopped turning to our own stories, and our own narratives.

I get that there are experts in any industry and there are always people leading the field, but I think experts have been put on a pedestal so much that we’re forgetting ourselves and the contribution we have to make.

Sometimes I can’t help but wonder how helpful it is, that when we’re talking about huge, subjective, personal topics,  we immediately turn to the 'experts' instead of turning to ourselves, and the people in our own lives.

The way I see it, if you’re reading this right now, if you’re a human, you’re just as much an expert on vulnerability, shame, creativity, fear as anyone who might have a New York Times Bestseller.

All of our human experiences guarantee that.

And we’ve all found our own unique strategies and tools, our own memories, and experiences where they’ve come into play. And we all have our own stories, our own ah-ha moments, and our own ways we can help ourselves and others. 

And my fear that we're not turning to ourselves only increased when I started The Couragemakers Podcast. I started my podcast because I wanted to talk to everyday couragemakers about everyday courage. To have honest conversations with mission driven doers, makers and world shakers that might not necessarily be featured on Huffington Post, have written their own book or given a TED Talk.

I wanted to hear the stories of women all around the world who are using their own experiences, and their own strengths and values to put good shit into the world and make the world a brighter place than how we found it.

And believe me, I have. And the episodes are AMAZING. And the women? They are fucking phenomenal.

But when I started to reach out to women I knew, women who encourage and ispire me,  I started seeing a pattern emerging their responses. Their answers started with ‘I’d absolutely love to…” and finished with:

“When I’ve done more”

“When I’m at that level”

“But I don’t think I’m very interesting”

“But I don’t think I have anything to say”

It’s like we’ve all got used to only hearing successful, well regarded people on podcasts, listening to people who have given TED Talks, and only watching the people who look like they have it all.

And in the process, we’re silencing ourselves. We’re getting trapped in the ‘I’m not good enoughs’ and ‘I’m not important enoughs.' I’m truly devastated by the fact that there are people who don’t feel important enough to think they even have a story.

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Let me tell you - for every single interview I record, I am absolutely blown away. Blown away by the stories, by the courage and by the joy of sharing stories that are untold.

Most of all, I’m blown away by the fact that we all have so many different stories. For each guest, I know the interview could go a thousand different ways, depending on which part of their story or their lives we’re focusing on.

Because when it comes to vulnerability, fear, creativity, hope, wholeheartedness, bravery, anything - we've all got enough stories to stock that beautiful bookshop in You've Got Mailthree times over. 

And when people are asked about their lives, their struggles and what inspires them, they come out with stories and advice that are just as share-worthy and Pinterest board worthy as Brené Brown and Elizabeth Gilbert:

Asking for help is one of the best things you could do for your life. And letting people know life is a mess and life is really messy and it’s okay becauese we all are messy and nobody has it together -- Jordan Gage

Find something new you want to try and do it. That’s a gift to yourself -- Amber Thomas

Being a courage maker is when your inner light is stronger than the light out there -- Violeta Nedkova

We've all got our own narratives.

We've all got our own stories to tell. We each have a back catalogue of real life experiences. We each have our Greatest Hits and also that obscure album that no one's really listened to.

Trust yourself and stop googling, or believing that the experts can say what you're thinking, or your ideas better than yourself.

Because they can't.

** The Couragemakers Podcast will be released on 29th February. You can keep up to date with all the episodes here.

My bizarre morning routine (& the joys of being un-instagrammable)

I wrote a while ago about how it's okay to not be a morning person and the mystery of having a morning routine. And I still stand by that 100%. But what I have come to learn is that it is helpful to have something in place in the morning that starts you off to a good day. No, it's not about green smoothies or Insta-ing (is that a word?) your breakfast. No, it's not about getting up 2 hours early to do sun salutations.

Instead it's finding something that works for you. It's about finding something that works with how you already live your life. Something that is minimal effort but has a big effect on your day. It doesn't have to make sense to everyone else. It doesn't have to be something Oprah magazine feature worthy. It just has to be something that you can do that helps you.

Because, you know what? You know yourself better than anyone else, anyway. So stop googling the perfect morning routine, stop beating yourself up for pressing snooze a few (a dozen for me) too many times, and embrace your own madness.

With that in mind, let me share with you my morning routine. This is going to be no holds barred, so warning: reality to ensue.

(This feels pretty vulnerable, like sharing with you the colour of my knickers. (They have owls on them, they're cool).

My morning routine

An average day for me either involves working from home (or a coffee shop), blogging, doing design work and generally trying to work out how I can use my skills to make the world a better place, or involves going out to a research consultant job (completely freelance, random hours) mid-morning.

Either way, Mr. Meg is always up before me, about 6.45am and he heads off to work at 7.30am (the fact that I used to do this is pretty inconceivable to me.) The fact that I used flexi-time and usually got there half hour later than I wanted to because I convinced myself (in a very dozy state, most mornings) that I could shower, wash & blow dry my hair, feed the bunnies, have breakfast in 12 minutes however, is very conceivable.

But, I digress.

Between him getting ready and going out, I'm usually in a semi-conscious mumbling state, trying to tell Mr. Meg all about my latest dream, and after our morning hug, despite telling myself I really should get up, I doze back off to sleep.

8.15am and Mr. Meg rings on his walk to work and after muttering more shit for a while, I finally convince myself that it might be worth getting up.

Now, I want to be really honest here.

I don't arise like a fairy and skip downstairs (alert: nobody does), instead I lie in bed, check my email (a habit I'm really trying to change because it doesn't put my day off to a good start), and go downstairs to get breakfast sorted.

My breakfast is definitely not instagrammable. It involves two little pieces of toast, a tin of spaghetti and a couple of fried eggs. (Didn't I tell you that this isn't going to make sense to everyone? I probably should of added that your morning routine is probably going to actively repulse some people. Oh well. Shit happens.)

Before the spaghetti and the frying pan gets warmed up, using Podcast Addict on my phone, I start my morning properly with a podcast episode. My favourites at the moment are Raise Your Hand. Say Yes and The Joy Patrol Podcast, but on days where I can't find anything I want to listen to, I'm usually singing this Kacey Musgraves or Chris Stapleton at the top of my lungs.  That gets listened to while I simultaneously empty the dishwasher, make a cup of chai tea and sort my breakfast.

And then it's pretty simple. Podcast gets listened to. Breakfast gets eaten. And life begins to happen for the day.

Why on earth am I telling you all this?

There's a couple of reasons:

1. I'm a huge fan of honesty and being open about real life. There's this notion that everything has to be impressive, and setting an example all the fucking time. And I'm sick of it. So by showing you my not-perfect-but-perfect-for-me morning routine, I want you to feel okay about yours.
2. Because this might not seem like a great morning routine for you, but it seriously works for me. And my mornings started working for me when I started to ignore this idea that each of our mornings have to look, sound and taste a certain way. I struggle with anxiety, and some days, I'm not going to lie, it is hard to get out of bed. So having this simple morning routine helps with that. And I also find listening to a podcast in the morning really helps get my inspiration flowing, my mind working and prepares me for the day.

What does this have to do with you?

Basically this is a really long and roundabout way of saying do whatever works for you. It's permission (because don't we all need to feel like we have permission sometimes?) to do your morning however the fuck works for you.

It's not about making it impressive. It's not about having a CV/resume worthy morning routine.

It's about finding something that works for you, something that gets you inspired, or some days, something that just encourages you and helps you to partake in life.

Adult-ing is hard 

We think that everyone has it all together all-the-fucking-time but they really don't. We all believed that we'd grow up to be this magical adult human that could do all the things. But often we can't. And in a way, I'm glad I don't do all the adult things, because like what I believed when I was a child - adulthood kind of sucks. (By the way, here are 99 things you can do instead of growing up.  Essential reading, I'd say).

I'm a firm believer that courage is an everyday thing. Because life is pretty hard.

So, find a way of doing life that works for you. If that's getting up in the morning and watching Pepper Pig in your underwear while eating porridge with Nutella, then so be it. If it's suiting up, checking how the stocks are doing and calling your PA, then I think you're on the wrong website, goodbye.

You do you boo. And the rest will fall in to place.

The importance of sharing your story

The world is full of people who are sick of hearing the same stories

Full of amazing women like you and me who go to bed feeling completely alone in our struggles because no one is talking about them in a way that feels HUMAN. In a way that feels like us.

I want to live in a world full of stories that show the truth. That show my truth, your truth and Jane down the road's truth. I don't want to live in a world where our views on life, and our tiny moments of insights are saved for a perfect picture on Instagram.

Because, you know what? Not all stories are beautiful, have a happy ending and end up with a picture on Instagram. So many of us are hiding our stories, ashamed, because they stick out, because they're ugly, because they don't fit into the status quo, because we don't see them anywhere we look, and we believe we're completely alone in our struggles.

The patchwork lives of the many are so much more interesting

They're full of rough edges, not quite finished parts, bits that went seriously wrong but we managed to botch together, and things that went well that perhaps we don't talk about enough. They're full of lose strings and lose ends that don't get tied up neatly like the end of a TV series, full of bits that are coming apart at the seams, and full of ridiculously deep colours and memories that somehow, even though completely jumbled up, unexplainably makes sense to us.

Like the time I mispronounced something during a business presentation and ended up shouting vagina. Really loud.

Or the time, aged 14, when I got a toffee got caught up in my brace at the cinema with my best friend, and had to go to the hospital with half my brace hanging out my mouth.

Or the time I found out ten years later, that the my very handsome childhood friend had liked me all along.

Or the time I had such a heavy period during a lecture where were were watching Slumdog Millionaire, that I had to stay behind until everyone had left to sneak out because I'd bled through my jeans. And the chair.

Or the time a cruel boy asked me in front of my English class 'Meg, how does it feel to know you'll never be attractive?" In response I laughed, to take away everyone else's sheer discomfort.

Or the time, the doctor put me on the pill and I put on five stone within a year and stretch marks more complicated than the road system in India.

Your life might not make sense

Mine doesn't. But it's made up of thousands of stories. Thousands of stories that are yours alone. Hundreds of thousands of moments that will never end up on your Facebook feed. Memories that are yours alone.

On a good day, I'd tell you that I wouldn't take one story back for one second. On a not so good day, I'd tell you that there are several things in my life, specifically things that have have happened to other people, that I would take back within a heartbeat.

But these stories?  The ones you laugh about, the ones you hold your head in shame about, the ones that make you feel brave?They set you apart from everyone else. They form your passions, your curiosities, you knowledge, your sense of humour and your sense of self worth. They define you.

Nothing is ever going to be perfect. That's the imperfectly perfect joy of life. Spending your time trying to make it all make sense, trying to be something you're not, or trying to write the next chapter of your story that is 'prettier', is futile.

Stand tall. Own your story. Don't deny the bits you don't like. You can't watch One Tree Hill and deny Uncle Keith's death because you thought it was wrong and devastatingly sad. The entire series wouldn't make sense without it.

The world needs your story

The world is desperate for your story. We all need your story. We need to know the things that make you feel like you're on fire and the monsters that hide under your bed.

Through other peoples stories we start to make sense of ourselves.  And there is always more space for more stories. Because no stories are ever the same and no story is boring.

I can't sum it up more perfectly than Brené Brown: "Owning our story can be hard but not nearly as difficult as spending our lives running from it."

There's a whole book of stories out there, and it's time for you to become the storyteller.

What no one tells you about courage

I'm sat on the sofa, diagonally across from my best friend. We've been talking about recording a podcast episode (all about self care) long enough and today's the day that on a whim we're decided we're going to do it. We've written a list of what we want to talk about, the laptop is set up ready to go, and all that sits between us is the record button, Magic Mike (as my microphone has come to be nicknamed - it is pretty phallic) and one hell of a lot of fear.

I am scared shitless.

My stomach is doing that weird washing machine thing, my chest is just being a bit odd and I want to giggle and cry all at the same time.

All we need to do is start a conversation. And believe me, that's something we're pretty bloody good at.

But with a microphone? Nothing. I'm like a child on their first day of school.

It feels the same way as a trying to go to toilet when you're desperate but your mother in law/boss is in the next cubicle. Awkward, embarrassing and ultimately frustrating.

But I try. My best friend presses the record button. I  grimace, but she starts to talk at ease. She's a natural.

And then she starts to introduce me. Silence. Nothing. Nada. Not even a giggle.

I'm too caught up in my own head - what I sound like, how I don't know if I'll say something stupid, who will hear it - that I'm rendered speechless.

I'm hugely amazed by the proverbial balls my best friend has, for going for it and starting. Because starting is always the hardest.

So we try again

This time I push myself harder, reminding myself that we can easily delete it, that I'm with someone trust implicitly and the only difference between this conversation and the rest of our conversation is an inanimate object.

I close my eyes, and squeeze my thoughts from my brain to my mouth.

And this time, words form and they come out. I'm maintaining good eye contact with my best friend as she gives me reassuring looks and the conversation flows. Because not knowing what to say has never been our problem.

And before long, I'm seriously enjoying myself. I enjoy asking questions, I enjoy hearing her views and above all, I'm ridiculously happy to be a woman, sitting with another woman, sharing our stories and putting them out there in the world. It seems pretty radical. And pretty brave.

Because it is radical. And it is brave. Putting your story and your voice out there is always that way.

But there are so many reasons not to. There are so many reasons to get trapped by fear. That's always going to be the same with any dream you have.

But some point you have the force that voice out of your head and jump.

And stop analysing what's lying in your way. You have to stop looking at the wall you've built between yourself and your dreams and stop giving a label to each brick.

Some of my bricks were about how I've lost confidence and my confidence in my voice. Other bricks were simple labeled 'I am not enough.'

But focusing on the wall isn't going to get you over the wall. And it is 100% A-OK I'd you're not the first one over the wall, or if you have to watch someone else get over it first.

Asking for help, being reassured, and doing it with someone is what life is about. And once you stop thinking you have to do it all on you're own, you'll learn that there's a whole number of people out there who genuinely want to help.

And when you take that leap, you feel scared shitless to start off with, but invincible when you've done it. And there's nothing quite like taking that risk with someone you love.

Take it from me. Courage? It's contagious.

(And addictive!)

!

Guest Post: An Open Letter to Anyone Who’s Ever Had Their Ass Kicked

This is for anyone who knows what it feels like to get your ass kicked and still insists on coming out on the other side more alive, present, whole, and human than you ever dreamed possible. You’re not alone. I get it. To say what you’ve been through “sucks” is a gross understatement and if you’re still pissed about the whole thing, that’s freaking fine. Healing takes time. So does forgiveness. So does growth. Don’t rush yourself. My name’s Heather, I’m a pro blogger, and I write exclusively about dream chasing over on Hiya Tootsie! Writing and cheering on other chicks to jump head first into their passions is my jam. I made up my mind to lead the charge when I decided to leave the personal shit show that was my previous career.

This decision was a true sorry-not-sorry awakening of heart.

To be fair, when I have my good moments of remembrance, the terrible parts were peppered with hallelujahs. But if you’ve stared into the gaping throat of hell in any capacity, you’ll know what I mean when I say it doesn’t always feel worth it. As a former missionary, I don’t think I’m allowed to say that, but I’m also not about to dishonor my story by sugarcoating the truth.

I used to work as an advocate and activist in the porn industry. When women and men were ready to get the hell out, I was part of helping them make the transition. I also worked extensively to educate the often painfully clueless public about the horrific nature of what their porn consumption contributed to.

In my career, I’ve been to 15+ porn conventions, met, befriended, and aided porn star after porn star after porn star, educated hundreds of fans, countless addicts, and more misogynists than I care to shake a stick at, went before lawmakers and health officials, encountered severe sexual trauma, suicide attempts, ER visits, mental hospitals, drug and alcohol addiction, and incessant cover ups.

I was bombarded with personal stories and high def footage of [gratuitous and horrific violence (edited for That Hummingbird Life readers)]. The constant flash of cameras capturing chaos, everyday men with giant smiles labeling it all “exciting,” couples who somehow thought violence and degradation would spice up their sex life, lifeless eyes, voices stuck around the age of 7 because that’s what sells, disease, addiction, and mental illness. I could go on. This is just the little bit I’m comfortable sharing at this point.

It fucking got to me.

And you know what? I’m not sorry for telling the truth, for choosing to use colorful language, or for still being in process. I took an entire year off to attempt to recover. I’m nearly three years out and I still deal with ramifications from the work, only now, to a much lesser degree. I had no idea how to take care of myself and though people prayed and applauded the work, I sure as shit didn’t have folks knocking down my door to ask me how I really was. Looking back, that’s what I needed. But then again, I felt like there was too much I couldn’t talk about and I didn’t actually know how I was until I got out. I had never heard words like vicarious trauma, burnout, compassion fatigue, and adrenal fatigue until long after the fact.

During my full-time healing year, I decided that the only thing I wanted to do was figure out who the hell Heather was again, revive her spirit, and give her room to swing her truth around in wild, raucous joy.

I started practicing self-care – therapy once a week, regular naturopath doctor visits, daily supplements, as much sleep as I needed, prayer, yoga stretching, bubble baths, massage, writing down my feelings, actuallyletting myself feel, practicing strict boundaries, letting go of toxic relationships, diving head first into Brené Brown’s work, and dreaming about what could be next.

All I wanted was a chance to take the girl who just wanted to help people, ended up getting the shit kicked out of her, and encourage her to march to a new beat. Only this time around, I wanted the beat to sound like “human” instead of “warrior.”

I have my degree in words. They call it Professional Writing, but really, it’s just a degree in sheer Word Nerdery. I’ve long believed that the power of life and death is in the tongue, and despite the trauma, this was the major reason my previous career was worth it to me. I learned how to connect with human hearts, story, and speak life into people. That’s all I ever wanted to do and it’s still my constant prayer. The difference now is that I am doing it in a way that honors and includes me.

Hiya Tootsie! is not just a blog. Hiya Tootsie! is a mother effing line in the sand. It represents making it out alive, figuring out how to do human well, not just hanging onto my faith but strengthening it, and carving a path to follow my dreams.

Baby, if I can do it, so can you.

I know a lot of you have been through serious shit. But the shit show does not define you. I didn’t let it define me and you don’t have to either. You have more worth and purpose prancing around inside of you than you’ll ever know what to do with. Who cares if you need to get some healing under your belt? Who the hell doesn’t? You’ve lived. This journey we’re on is about catapulting from survive to thrive and it’s about time we freaking rock it.

The new path will not always be rosy. I can personally attest that there are old landmines here and there along the way. You will get triggered and you will get through it with dignity, grace, and a deeper understanding of your holy, beautiful self. The only difference between your then and your now is that just like me, you’ll get better and better at spotting those landmines long before they have any shot in hell of blowing up your progress.

 Go do what is in you to do.

Your story is what makes you who you are – the great, ugly, heartbreaking, and hilariously triumphant.

We are a sisterhood of badass broads who know that the word badass means “vulnerable” and the word vulnerable means “brave.” So be your vulnerable, brave, badass self. I got my ass kicked and I’m doing it. Show up, prove to me that I’m not alone, and tell me who you are. We’ve got lives to live and dreams to chase.

Let’s rock this shit, kittens.

Heather bio

You can find Heather here: Facebook | Twitter | Instagram

Guest Post: Encouraging and inspiring through creative afternoons

When Meg asked me if I could write a guest post about this, I was over the moon - the opportunity to be on her fantastic website and to share the experience I've had hosting craft afternoons, wow! But when I've tried to write it, it's been more difficult than I expected. It's so hard to capture the emotion and the level of supportiveness and the small changes in people that occur. So please forgive me if I overuse words such as excitement and support and inspiration.

I love listening to women talk about creating

There's an excitement and a passion which shines through. And so often, these conversations are with people who "aren't creative" but who thoroughly enjoy knitting or cross stitch or whatever it is. Somehow being creative is so intrinsically linked with fine art that many people just can't get away from that. For the record, creativity is a huge spectrum of different techniques and processes and outcomes.

A creative afternoon

As well as listening to women talk about creating, I love getting women together to create. I had the honour of doing just that in August. An email went to friends, acquaintances and friends of friends inviting them for croissants, tea and making stuff. They were invited to bring works in progress, their own equipment or just to turn up and have a play with my stash of materials.

At previous creative afternoons I've taught some basic bookbinding, women have taught other women to knit and everyone has got involved. There has been an amazing organic nature to these afternoons, synchronicity that I could never have planned.  This was no exception. Despite the normal "I'm not creative " protests, everyone went home having made something. It ranged from mixed media art work to cards to decorations and more. But the thing I hope everyone took away was inspiration and a feeling that they can be creative.

I think the key to these afternoons is very much the women themselves.  I could provide the most amazing craft materials, books with instructions and inspiration, detailed tutorials etc but without the women, it would fall flat.

Women are often considered to be nasty, bitchy and judging when they get together in groups. But not these groups. This was a group of mostly strangers who were sat round my table, creating away and providing positive encouragement to everyone else.  It's something I would love to see so much more of.

Genuine encouragement

I don't think I can begin to express how heart warming it is to see this in action - genuine support and encouragement between strangers, the amazement when people see that they have created something and the twinkling of the idea that maybe they are creative.  It's beautiful.

 So if you have a table, a bit of craft stuff and a kettle, get emailing! Invite everyone you know to a tea and creative (creativi-tea if you will) afternoon.  I know it's an invitation I would love to receive.

Since I wrote this, I've come across

Mind's Christmas Crafternoons:

Crafternoon means getting together with friends, family or colleagues and holding an afternoon of festive crafting to have fun and raise money for Mind.

Make someone's Christmas and help us make sure no one has to face a mental health problem alone.

Helen bio

You can find Helen here: Flickr | Blog

Guest Post: How Consumption Influences our Creativity by amber thomas

When I started writing for NaNoWriMo last November I dedicated myself to reading a half hour a day. It seemed annoying some days, why not spend that half hour writing instead? I noticed my progress wane on days I’d skipped my “warm-up reading” and felt a nudge that quality consumption was influential in my creativity. As a soul who loves answers to seemingly proverbial questions I created an experiment.

An experiment

Two days a week I began my writing time with a book. Two more days I’d write without any use of transitional materials. And the final two days a week (assuming I take a day off), I’d prime my mind with Facebook or Instagram or even a recorded TV show. I needed to see how my choices affected my creative output. You’re not going to be entirely surprised to find out my word counts and the quality of my writing suffered immensely on the free-for-all consumption days.

Your mind isn’t critically engaging with your Facebook friends, it’s merely surveying their current state of life. You aren’t thinking about the tone or theme or depth of characters on your Instagram feed, instead you’re making binary choices: double tap or scroll. Television can be educational, but it’s a passive brain activity not requiring you to opinionate about storylines or perspective. However, you do all these things while you read.

I proved to myself (and now to all of you) that the way I started my writing time was a valuable source of inspiration and creative energy for the work laid out ahead of me.

Nourish yourself

Draw your creative process back to lessons we’ve learned in nutrition: in order to expend energy (creative or otherwise), you must nourish yourself with rich sustenance. While marshmellow fluff is delicious (never before have a refused a serving of that cloud-like heaven), it doesn’t leave me feeling fuelled and hardy in the way scrambled eggs do. Are you taking in all kinds of light, airy treats without providing your creative process with the fuel it needs to keep momentum? Often the answer is no, but we avoid the real work of cleaning up our habits of consumption.

It’s simple, really, to avoid empty forms of inspiration. The hard part is identifying where the empty sources lie

Three ways to clean up your consumption

1.     Avoid being a voyeur

We’re all guilty of keeping our eye on the trainwreck as it’s happening.  But then the carnage and mess traumatize us. So, why not unfollow the mess before it gets started? You know those people you can see ruining their businesses with angry backlash at dissatisfied customers or those hate forums on the internet or the Facebook friends who could star on a soap opera they're fascinating. But your fascination turns into valuable time wasted keeping tabs on their mess instead of pouring into your latest project.

2.     Be honest about your viewership

This seems easy and natural. But as a fan of the Real Housewives of Orange County from the beginning, I’ve dedicated an hour a week to watching the women get together and raise hell in each other’s lives. Just recently my husband watched an episode with me and when it finished he turned to me and said, “So you watched women fight over fancy dinners for an hour?” I wanted to defend myself, but couldn’t. Because that’s what I was watching, grown women –who are my mom’s age- fight over nothing. And suddenly, my diehard fan-girling seemed pathetic, not loyal.

3.    Track your time.

I know you’re hearing this all over the web and beyond. Have you tried it? Honestly, I was terrified at the end of my work day. My day job is balanced delicately with my Etsy shop and blog and plethora of writing and marriage. I feel like I manage my priorities well and may have been known to brag about my ability to get the work done. But the serving of humble pie that I was served after tracking each minute of my time for three days was enough to make my brain explode.

Another experiment

Though I’d like to claim the title of quick learner, I am not. So when I opened my handmade art Etsy shop, I assumed my mind would always overflow with ideas for new pieces. Alas, it did not.

So I tried the experiment over again: two days started with reading, two with visual observation online, and two with no outside inspiration. And the results were the opposite of my writing habit.

On the days I scrolled through Instagram or Pinterest ideas flowed, colors complimented, and my time in the studio was fruitful beyond belief. In contrast, the days I started with reading were slow-moving, awkward, and frustrating.

Be mindful

Be mindful of how your eyes allow inspiration into your brain. Be aware of the way one creative endeavor is different than another; so different, in fact, they may be opposites. All these words and examples boil down to one thing: your consumption matters for your process.

Amber bio-2

You can find Amber here:  INSTAGRAM | Shop

Confessions of an emotionally wounded activist

I've hesitated a lot before writing this post. Partly because it's been in my head for such a long time I'm worried about getting it out right. Partly because it's so hard to talk about. Mostly though, because I've been scared to face up and own the truth.

I'm going to start right back to the beginning, but first I just want to make something clear.

This isn't a rallying cry to stop people from going into activism or becoming an activist, or working for a cause they believe in. It's my honest account of how activism and the charity world has changed me. We all need the people who were born to set the world alight, but in hindsight, I wish I'd gone into the storm braced with the right gear, the right footwear and a bit of prior warning.

Always an activist

There are many people out there who were born to set the world alight, but we need to start treating ourselves better and each other better to really be the change we wish to see.

I always knew I wanted to 'change the world'. At school, when most other people in my class wrote their debate piece for English Lit on boxing and fox-hunting, I wrote piece on ending the sex trafficking of children. While other people used creative writing time to write about holidays they'd been on, I was writing about domestic abuse, mental health issues and self harm. I was always an activist.

A need to change things

It all came from an innate feeling deep inside of me that wanted to change things, and understand how these deep injustices could be changed.

Now, I've written here before about changing the world and how it's come to mean different things to me over the years. But that desire for change has always been there.

Like many many people reading this, I'm a natural carer. I'm self-aware and all too aware of the feelings of others. I've spent much of my life putting other people first and neglecting myself in the name of 'helping others'. I've ignored my own mental health issues, used food as a coping strategy and just 'soldiered on'.

In my head, injustice has always gone hand in hand with a million-miles-an-hour need to shake shit up and improve things.

I go from empathy, to anger, to a desperate need to change things.

It really is no surprise that I ended up heavily involved in the world of activism.

By the age of 18, I was marching the streets in a protest to make streets safe for women at night, lying in the middle of main roads to protest cuts to disability benefits, writing articles about injustices done to women all over the world, coordinating feminist festivals and shouting (and singing) as loud as I could.

The elephants in the room

But here's the things they don't mention when you get into activism as a way of life. The things that aren't being spoken about but everyone's thinking.

1.The guilt of not being able to do enough, or change things enough. Oh the guilt, the endless guilt

2. The fact that you will be continually slapped in the face with further injustice, which makes any successes seem pale in the comparison

3.The amount you will be relied upon as a passionate person with a never-ending supply of energy

4.That to really feel like you're getting somewhere, and feel like you're doing your bit for the cause, you have to put the rest of your life on hold. Either that or the rest of your life need to be related to ending said problem. Bye bye self-care. Hello burnout.

5.Sometimes the people around you just don't get it, and that can make you really angry. When you're totally involved and they don't seem to care, it can cause rifts, resentments, and just problems.

I also can't deny how leading a march with rally cries behind me was exhilarating, how there were days when I couldn't sleep because my mind was brimming with creative ideas and ways to change things, how I felt like I had found my purpose, and how fucking good it felt to feel part of a community.

Tales of an (emotionally) wounded activist

But for those highlights, I put my whole self, and sanity on the line.

And when you get into actually working for the cause, it's a different ball game altogether.

Especially when you're working somewhere where people are burnt out but feel too much guilt to leave, where staff can't be truly appreciated because of the sheer demands of funding and stress at management level and where you end up de-sensitized to the cause you're trying to fight because that's the only way you can get up in the morning.

And especially when you start working in a paid capacity for the cause at a very young age and you enter wide-eyed and eager only to leave feeling like you're a shell of the person you started out as.

I don't mean this to sound bitter, I'm writing this post with the earnest aim of being honest but I can't hide the ugly stuff.

Becoming broken

In the past year and a half, I haven't been able to go to a protest/march without feeling like a piece of me is being torn apart. And for the last year, when I can, I've stopped going. I've stopped associating with people who were a large part of that life. I have just wanted out.

When I get involved with any of it, it's just too painful. It reminds me of what could have been and how I really felt like I'd found my life calling, and brings the truth too close to home.

Part of me feels broken now. I feel like I've been shattered, and I'm trying to put the pieces together, but there's no instructions, there's no guide of what it's meant to look like.

I feel like I've lost a huge part of my identity.

I know so many awful things are happening in the world, and it's just easier to look away. Sometimes, I get trapped into thinking that I'm apathetic, that I just don't care anymore.

But I do, and most of the time I'm too afraid to admit it. It's just a hell of a lot easier to put it at the back of my mind and just let it go.

See, when you break something, or something becomes broken, there are usually 3 reactions.

1. To put it back together, in the same way as before

or

2.Find someone or something to blame.

3.Walk away.

I've done all three.

Putting myself back together in the same way hasn't worked, and I don't want it to work. I can't be in that space, so I need to make a new space.

Finding someone to blame provides an outlet, but it doesn't let things go. Sure, I'm really angry about a lot of things that have happened, I'm angry at specific people, and I'm angry that I'm left feeling like this. But at the end of the day, there's no one thing or person to blame. And I don't want to spend my life absorbed in bitterness.

Walking away has helped the most though. Choosing to leave was a fucking brave thing to do, and a bit ridiculous when you look at how rare it is to find permanent work in specialist areas, but it was the right decision.

If nothing else, I know the bright-eyed version of me before all of this would be seriously disappointed in me if I continued to work and fight with a lack of passion, and two flying fucks.

A new story

So instead, I've taken the time to work on my own stuff. I've worked hard to find a new voice and a new story. Of course, That Hummingbird Life is a big part of this new story for me. So is taking the time to have fun, doing creative things and enjoying things without feeling guilty.

I've learned the hard way that you can't change the world, or change anything for that matter if you can't help yourself first.

It's been a long road, and I'm not ready to leave the pain behind just yet. There's a lot I have to share that can be of immense value. There are so many things I wish I knew, and so many things I know now that I want to share about changing the mindset of activists before they get burnt.

And I will, but it's going to take time.

I just hope, that if you're one of the many people working hard to change things, to change the world in however you make sense of the phrase, that you stop to take time for yourself and enjoy the good things in your life. Like the people around you, sunny days and songs that make you feel alive.

Not just appreciating and feeling grateful for the good things in your life in due regard to acknowledge your privilege. But actually holding on to them with two hands and not letting them go.

Because at the end of the day, two of the most basic human needs is connection and the need to feel valued.

Don't let that go, or sacrifice that for anyone, or anything.

What happens when you make a change from a place of hope, not fear

I talked a while ago on here about being guilty of future tripping. Getting so lost in what we want to do in the future, and not focusing on the present. I also mentioned that I had big changes which I would share when I was ready. And I'm ready.

Turning my life upside down

In December, I handed in my notice to my permanent job. In January, I handed in my notice on my house. And in March, I'm going to be moving to London in with my other half's family for a while, to save up to go travelling.

I have literally turned my life upside down, and it’s pretty fucking terrifying.

I have moments where I just sit here and think when the hell did I get so brave. I also have times where the more rational side of me comes out wonders what the hell I'm doing.

But you know what? I'm going to be honest - my life situation - up until the I made the decision to really shake shit up - hasn't been serving me.

I'd been thinking about a change for a long time, but I was just too scared to jump. And when I say jump, the options I saw available to me were changing my job, and moving somewhere cheaper. They weren’t both, and moving across the country, and making my dreams of travelling a reality.

All that time thinking about the need to shake things up, I was seriously scared of change. I'd rather be miserable most of the time than take a leap into the unknown.

Sobbing and decisions

One evening in December, I just came home and sobbed. I felt really trapped. The realisation that we'd got a house which was beautiful, but was putting a lot of pressure on us financially and limiting our choices was starting to dawn on me. And the situation I was in employment wise just wasn't serving me anymore, and was simply making me miserable.

The two main and concrete things I had made clear decisions on in my life - where to live and where to work, were just draining

me.

But it wasn’t as movie-like as it sounds like - as if a rock just fell on my head and I woke up to face the music.

It was a long time coming, and it was an evening of really painful desperation, clinging onto any hope of things changing I could get.

It had always been my dream to go travelling and I’d started to believe it was never going to happen. The years were creeping by and I was putting it off for security, something I thought I wanted.

And security became a great excuse for not acting on my dreams, and staying in shit situations that I knew weren’t good for me.

A lot of the motivation for change came from knowing that the only thing stopping me was me

Fear's been what's kept me in my situation longer than was good for me.

I was only able to make the active decisions from a place of real hope rather than out of fear.

Taking risks

Yeah, of course it was a risk handing in my notice on both my job and my house, but luckily we're in the situation where we've got families who are being really emotionally supportive and won't see us homeless.

And I'm completely aware that if it wasn't for that, then our options would have been much more limited, and we're really lucky to have such supportive people around us.

But thankfully, it’s all worked out.

Panic number one has been handled regarding what’s going to happen to my beautiful bunnies. Thankfully they’ll be going to live with my Mum and Dad who love them more than me (I’m kidding, I think!) and who really need some bunny love in their lives.

As for the rest, and future panics, I’m prepared.

I handed in my notice early to have all of February to sort things out without stressing, and it’s working. I’ve got a long list of things to do, but they’re not all house related. I’ve got time to read books I’ve been wanting to read, as well as having time to bubble wrap things and sort through junk.

February is seriously busy for me, and I’ve also got a lot of illness in my family right now, and things are really hard.

But I know if I don’t do this now, I don’t know if I will.

And it’s exciting. But also sad (I’ll go more into that in future posts).

So that's why I've been a bit quiet lately. I've really missed blogging. It hasn't been because I haven't wanted to, but because things in my life are changing in such a big way.

I’m looking forward to keeping you guys updated, and living what I write about.

[Tweet "Sometimes we just need to get out of our own way and take another look at our dreams and really believe in them."]

Shit storms & silver linings

This post is part of Mary Sabo's wonderful Misfortune Into Opportunity blog tour. Be sure to check out her blog tour for great stories made out of hope and heart. I like to find silver linings. I’d say I’m a pretty optimistic person and my smile tends to eat up (more than) half my face. When things go wrong I tend to find the positive, do what I’ve got to do, then move on.

But while I like to see the positive, I’m a firm believer that we we learn lessons when we’re ready. And that time is usually when we’re out of the shitstorm enough to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

Sitting with the shit

Sometimes, bad situations just call for sitting with the shit, not forcing a rainbow/silver lining before you’re ready and just riding it out.

That’s definitely been the case for quite a few occasions in my life where things haven’t gone to plan. And during those times, they all felt shit. They made me want to curl up in a ball, get under my duvet and cry with sadness/frustration/anger.

And for the most part, I did.

The one where I got turned away from a job for being too passionate - Hah, this is a good one. I went for a job as a mental health support worker, and had missed getting it by a ridiculously small margin. When I asked for feedback, they eventually told me I was too passionate and that some might think it was ‘over the top’.

So what did I do? My boss at the time gave me her car keys and let me sit in her car while I cried my eyes out.

And a couple of days later, I realised that my passion is my strength, and if other people have a problem with it, we’re probably not suited.

The one where I ended up on my own in another country - to cut a very long story short, I was meant to be visiting a friend who had moved to Switzerland but it didn’t work out. I ended up making the decision to go anyway, and booked myself in a cheap hostel for a couple of days, despite being terrified and not in a great place myself. So I got on that plan, got to my hostel, found a cute little cafe, got a hot chocolate (which was gross) and felt really sorry for myself.

Looking back now, some time later, I can see that my trip to Geneva was a huge stepping stone in me starting to enjoy time alone. I actually really enjoyed having time to myself, and since that trip, I’ve made sure that alone-time is now a staple part of my week, in order to energise, process things and just breathe.

The one where I spent three weeks angry - I went to Ghana a couple of years ago, with a large non profit organisation on water project. We worked in a remote village, and spent the first couple of days working with the people of the village, asking them what they thought was the solution for the lack of clean water in their village. Even though none of them wanted it, the organisation made a decision to build a rain water harvesting system. And we were much less equipped with the tools to build it, than the local tradespeople. (That and we were told to go and convince the people in the village that they were wrong about spirits living in their river, beliefs that had been passed through generations).

I remember phoning my partner, ranting about the whole experience and sitting with how demoralised and let down I felt.

But I learned one of the biggest lessons of all: helping people is about working with them with the tools they already have, and building up their toolbox.

Three different experiences.

They all felt like shit at the time. And I sat with the shit, and when I was ready, the lesson appeared.

With time away from the experiences, I can see all of those memories from a different angle. I had the time away from them, I’ve got through them, and been changed by them. Looking at them from a place where I’ve learned valuable lessons, I can say they are worth going back and re-living the experiences again for.

Framing misfortune as opportunity is a great way to grow and learn about yourself, but it’s also something that often comes after the experience. Sometimes long after.

At the time, it’s often best to sit with the shit.

[Tweet "Instead of suppressing things and minimising bad experiences, acknowledge that you’re feeling shit, allow yourself to feel shit, and own that shit!"]

Look out for silver linings, but if you can’t find one, that’s ok. You’ll see that glimmer of opportunity when you least expected it, and these are sometimes the most valuable things to learn of all.

What silver linings have come out of your own shitstorms? I'd love to hear all about it in the comments!

A simple approach to innovation

Kayaking doesn’t seem like the hardest thing in the world. A bit of balance, a bit of arm muscle and some good size waves. It doesn’t seem like a tasking activity. That’s until you met me. Let me paint you an accurate picture.

It’s sunny, I’ve hit the beach with my family and I’m in the sea. I’m coughing up water, I’m on my fourth attempt to get on the damn boat and my stomach is starting to kill from being thrashed about in the waves.

Imagine Baywatch.

Now think the opposite.

So I get on the boat (does it count as a boat? Oh,I don’t know!) and get the paddles into position, and I’m off (kind of?). I can confirm that it’s a pretty sad sight. The only way I can describe it is to think of a grown woman with the enthusiasm of a wide-eyed toddler pedalling on the spot.

[Tweet "I am not moving. I'm digging the oar in"]

And I’m not moving.

The harder I try, the harder it gets.

It’s pretty funny by this point. I can barely see beyond my life jacket and I’m quite certain that I’ve got my yearly salt intake in just a couple of mouthfuls.

My Dad meanwhile appears to be on some great voyage, having done a marathon style escape in his kayak, and my partner is bobbing up and down looking vaguely bemused.

I’m wracking my brain trying to think of why it’s not working. I’m moving the oar, higher, lower, to the side a bit, everything short of sitting on it.

I’m thinking of all these new fanangled methods to move forward and none of them are working.

After giving up for a while and sunbathing in the kayak (much nicer ), I try again, this time without all of the effort and without trying to find new techniques.

And it works.

I’m gliding the oars in the water, sailing along, I’m moving, life is amazing, I’m going to be in the next Olympics… (not quite).

Then it came to me.

What I had succeeded in doing while flailing around, was complicating the process to the point that I was stuck and out of ideas.

And Isn’t this what we all do at some point or another?

In an attempt to be original and innovative, we can overlook the simple.

We can complicate things to the point that we don’t know up from down. We get frustrated, we start to doubt ourselves and we wonder why things aren’t slotting into space.

It’s not always about doing something in a way that it’s not been done before.

What seems easy and obvious to us, would never occur to a lot of people.

And a lot of the time, the most obvious way of doing something isn't done well, or done at all, because people are trying to be too clever.

So, whatever you're stuck on right now, think about what the most obvious solution would be. Don't just think of innovation and trying new things.

And try it.

You never know where it might get you.

Radical Honesty and the Shower Song Strategy

I’m a big fan of radical honesty and sincerity. I’m a fan of putting my truths out there for the world to see and not holding back. I don’t want to come across as some kind of douche expert that pretends they have their shit together and lectures other people form their pedestal of great height. Because I’m not.

That’s why today I want to share something silly and personal which I think some of you might find helpful.

I’ve not been shy about my own experiences of burnout. Burnout is a cycle, and it’s about interrupting the cycle and re-directing it. As passionate people who want to do everything right now, because we want to help people dammit, burnout is probably going to feature in our lives for a long time.

And it’s about how much of a soap box we give the bad bits, and how much of a lens we lend to the good parts that encourage us to take care of ourselves.

Anyway, I digress.

Radical honesty

I still get days where getting out of bed and into the shower is near IMPOSSIBLE. As a general rule, I find if I have to be somewhere with a tight deadline, my body goes into auto-pilot and just does it. But when I don’t, or where I have any deal of flexibility, it gets a lot harder.

It also depends on what stage of burnout I’m in. If I have very little energy, then the situation gets worse, if I’m in the heights of ideas mode, then I tend to have some great ideas in the shower.

It’s not even that I hate having a shower, it’s just another thing that I have to do that takes more energy. It’s the precursor to feeling like I have to do something (ie. leave the house) that I want to put off as long as possible.

This got me thinking. There must be something I can do about it. Even if it’s a silly solution.

RADICAL HONESTY WEB

And then it came to me. (I’m not going to pretend this was all deliberate and thought through. Like most things in life, it was quite accidental. But brilliant).

Certain music makes me happy, and also gets my adrenaline going and reminds me that I’m an actual person who has stuff to do, and wants to make the world a better place. So I started off by putting music I like on while in the shower. Yeah, it worked, but I just enjoyed the music too much and wouldn’t get out.

It wasn’t much of a solution until I found the perfect mix of two songs. A song that made me ridiculously happy*, and a song that I just had to get out of the shower to turn it off**. Not because it triggered anything, or made me feel depressed or reminded me of any bad memories. It’s just fucking annoying.

(I didn’t even aim to create it that way. The annoying song managed to creep up on one of my favourite playlists.)

A challenge

So, unintentionally it became a bit of a challenge.

If I could shower by the end of the first song, then I could have a bit of a boogie in the shower and avoid the annoying song. Win win. If I was too long, I had to put up with that song. Lose.

Bam!

It’s something simple, but it works. It’s an exercise that I give to my clients to get over the hurdle, and it works.

You don’t need to use the two songs together. For some people, having a song that really pisses them off after goes a step too far and puts them in a bad mood. So perhaps have a playlist with just the one song on it, and make it your goal to have showered by the end of the song. And don’t pick a song that’s too short, and makes you rush - I won’t be held responsible for slips in the bath/shower.

Give it a try, see if it works for you. It could be just the thing you need to kick your day into action.

If you’re in a sharing mood, I’d love to hear what songs make you happy and motivate you in the comments. And if you do use the second song, I’d love to hear what irritates the crap out of you. I could do with mixing my songs up a bit!

*My happy song is Fforest by Australian band Castlecomer. The lead singer is a guy who went to my primary school who I had a huge crush on (aged 9) and I came across his band about a year ago. I would message him and tell him I love his music but “One of your tracks is my happy song and I listen to it every day when I’m naked in the shower” would be a bit awkward. It may even sound a tad perverted.

** The winner of the song that drives me fucking crazy is Kenny Chesney with his awfully titled song She Thinks My Tractor’s Sexy. Kenny, she really doesn’t. Misread signals and all that.

How to create your own escape plan

I should first start with this. I love plans. I am a complete nerd. I love planning. I hardly ever stick to them, but there’s something about the sense of control, the reduction of anxiety, and the idea of dreams becoming reality that I find really appealing. Not quite Ryan Gosling appealing though. I’ll leave that for my X rated blog that is not appropriate to share here (joke, I’m way to busy for that.)

I love the big plans, the no-fucking-way plans, the big ass plans that make the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

Nothing inspires me more than hearing stories of people who decide they want to change things up so make a plan to pack their things, travel the world or go move to another country and design a life that follows their passions.

But I also LOVE the small plans. The maybe plans, the just incase plans, the they-look-comforting-on-my-flower-post-it-note-plans.

As passionate people, I think it’s fair to say we get in all kinds of sticky situations. Through genuinely wanting to help other people, and wanting to use our strengths and skills for good, we end up in circumstances we don’t want to be in. We tend to say yes. A lot. It’s as if the word wants to burst out of our mouths before we’ve even been asked something.

I mean, we’ve all been there - roped into ‘helping’ someone we vaguely know (read: doing all the work for a project that we thought would take ten minutes), trying to get away with checking our watches to find a way out of a meeting, sitting with a friend we haven’t seen in a while - and now we remember why - and trying to find an excuse to leave but our imagination seems to have flown out of the window.

Or maybe we’re just somewhere we really don’t want to be, but we can’t find a way out. This is especially pertinent to being in the depths of burnout when we're forced to stop, or feel completely overwhelmed. Our anxiety levels can increase, the simplest of tasks can feel impossible and our confidence and self esteem can dip.

Now, learning to say no is another completely different topic so I'll leave that for a separate post. What I want to talk about here is what we can do to keep a strong sense of who we are and what we want, in moments we wish we could escape.

And that's where the small plans come in. A list of 4 things that you can do when things get too much and you want out. Like, right now.

Everyone is going to have different escape plans, so I'll share mine to give you an idea.

1. The bathroom breathing plan

This is one of my favourites. If you're stuck somewhere, let's say work for example and you start feeling overwhelmed and get the 'must leave now' urge, the bathroom could well be your best friend. When fight or flight kicks in, I can calmly walk to the bathroom, lock myself in a stall and BREATHE. Makes all the difference.

2.  The deadline plan

I often use this when I'm nervous or my anxieties are playing up. I set myself an ideal time that I would like to finish the activity/conversation/whatever it is that I'm worrying about. Then I half it. Now here is the important part - tell the person/people your second, shorter deadline at the earliest possible moment. Set the expectation and boundaries at the earliest possibility and it takes a lot of  the stress away. You might even find that you stay longer than you thought because you start to enjoy yourself now you're not under so much pressure and have the option to escape.

ESCAPE PLAN WEB

3. The treat plan

Sometimes, and this pains me to say it, there are very little ways out. Sometimes, things just have to be done. For those times, plan yourself a treat for after. Give yourself something to really look forward to. It could be having a nice coffee after, buying a magazine, having a long soak in the bath or something else that makes you feel good. It's about acknowledging you got through it when you thought you couldn't, and being proud of yourself.

4. The honest plan

Honesty is sometimes the best policy. Making people aware of your feelings can often work out in your best interest. Generally people are so wrapped up in themselves that they don't take much time to think of anything else. What you think must be blindingly obvious to them (your nerves, anxiety, panic), more likely than not goes completely over their heads. By making people aware of how you're feeling - if you feel able to - you might be surprised by how supportive they are, and how much release this gives you. (But perhaps don't tell your friend she is a complete fun-sucker, it is always nice to treat people how you like to be treated after all).

So next time you feel stuck somewhere you don't want to be, or everything gets too much, get this baby out of your toolbox and take her for a spin.

What are your escape plans? I'd love to hear about them in the comments!