Choosing the “No” That Works

Most people I talk to wish they could say “No” more effectively. We know we should, but the people who are asking are family or friends, people we love and don’t want to disappoint. So we say “yes” or “just this once” and the pressure mounts.

“No” is a choice you have to make for your own sanity.

What to do? I’ve tried to say “No” only to be met with various replies, from ones that generate a big load of guilt to ones that tell me how long the favor will take–and it’s always “15 minutes, max.” Of course nothing in the real world can be done in that time (well, maybe brushing your teeth), but sure enough, it makes you want to agree.

So here is a technique that works. It’s not easy, but it’s easier than saying “yes” and exhausting yourself or heaping stress on yourself. Because that’s what we are doing–when we say “yes” when we should say “no” we are the generator of our own stress.

1. Listen to the entire request. Cutting the speaker off before they are done only makes them more demanding and insistent.

2. Re-phrase what they want you to do. This is important so you can understand what is being asked of you. Frequently, people asking favors use diminishing language (words like only, just, little, quick, easy) and you hear that instead of the task.

3. Agree, but set a time limit. If you WANT do what is asked of you, and you CAN do it, agree but give yourself plenty of time. This includes setting a time you will spend on the task. For example: “So you want me to take you shopping for a used car? I can come with you from 2 to 4 on Saturday. How does that sound?” or “You want me to proofread your marketing letter? Sure, I’ll be able to get to it on Monday, the 18th, and complete it on the 21st. Does that sound OK?”

Notice that in each case you are asking if the time is agreeable. If not, you have a great excuse to turn it down. If the person wants more of your time or a faster deadline, you can decline, having offered what is possible.

4. If you don’t want to or can’t, suggest someone else. “I can’t go on Saturday, but you might want to ask Joe, he knows a lot about cars.” Suggesting some other solution helps the other person walk away and makes you helpful.

5. If you can’t suggest someone else, say no without giving a reason. And express regret. “I wish I could help you, but it’s not possible at this time.” “Oh, Mary, I sure wish I could help, but I just can’t. Please ask me again next time you need help.” It’s important not to give a reason, because the other person will brush your reason aside, because it is not important to them. Then you are left thinking up another excuse or arguing, neither of which works.

6. You will probably hear, “Why? What else are you doing?” This is hard, because we are not used to protecting our privacy anymore. We are instantly accessible by cell phone, Instant Messaging, Facebook, Twitter, and texting. Saying “No” feels naked. And a lie is almost impossible, because we’ll be found out through social networks. So the only answer is “I’m afraid I’m busy with something else.” And stick to that. When asked “Well, what is it? Why won’t you tell me?” you’ll remember that having a completely open, accessible life has drawbacks, and make some changes. But for now, you can say, “That’s not the point. I just want to be really clear I can’t help you with XYZ. I hope you find someone, though.”  Of course, this isn’t something you can say to your boss at work. We’re talking friends and family here.

There are times when you will have to choose between two “No’s” or say “No” more often than your guilt-meter wants you to, but remember that even in an airline emergency, when the yellow oxygen masks drop in front of you, you are supposed to help yourself first, then those around you. That’s a good image to keep in mind.

—Quinn McDonald is a life- and creativity coach who teaches people how to talk to each other.

Signs of the Times

In Sedona, I saw these signs–odd signposts along the way.

It seems we are selling the first amendment. In case you didn’t know, you can buy it in Oak Creek, outside of Sedona.

Thank goodness we can park while buying the first ammendment.

You have such a nice face. Yes, it is a natural face. Take pride in your natural approach to life. Oh, yeah, you have lumpy legs.

Don't look at the legs, look at the face.

–Quinn McDonald © 2010 All rights reserved.

Sedona Magic

Sedona is Arizona’s magic town. Flagstaff is the ski town that gets a lot of snow. (Surprised? Yeah, it’s true.) Payson is the town that shows off the Mugollon Rim–the part of the state that pushed up 2,000 feet almost overnight millions of years ago, giving us the Sonoran Desert floor. Prescott is a Western Town that was the first capital. But Sedona is a town of red rocks and vortexes. The place is home to big ravens and amazing sights, big blue skies and mountains with snow tops. Sedona is at 4,000 feet, so the surrounding mountains show off snow caps in the winter.

The vortexes are areas where the veil between worlds is thin. People have different experiences there. Some feel joy, some see clearly, some feel nothing. It doesn’t matter, it’s always Sedona.

Red Rock mesas. Mesa means table in Spanish.

When you drive up to the town, you see the mesas from far away, as the limestone gives way to the iron-rich rock.

The rocks look different as the sun shifts.

There is a wonderful symmetry in the trees coming down the ridge.

The church seems to grow out of the rock.

The Church of the Cross is stark and lovely. Inside it is dark, cool, and smells of incense.

You never get tired of watching the light play across the rock face.

There is little twilight in Arizona. Once the sun sets, the earth gets dark quickly. The sky stays bright for a bit, but the earth gets shadowy. If you are lucky, the sky lights up with the same red-orange as the rocks.

–Quinn McDonald, © 2010 All rights reserved. All photos and text.

The End of the Earth in a Journal

My brother keeps a journal. Who knew? He travels a good deal, and he keeps track in his Moleskine. Ever curious, I asked him why a Moleskine–and he gave some excellent reasons. He uses a 5 x 8.5 inch lined journal. He likes it because the quality of the paper allows him to use a fountain pen to write, the paper is smooth for fast writing. The folios are stitched into the spine, not glued in, so it’s sturdier. All good reasons.

I just ordered a larger Mokeskine with watercolor paper for some larger raw-art journaling work. It just arrived, but I like the watercolor paper a lot already. You can write, draw and collage on it successfully without leaking through. Oh, and watercolor in it, too.

Stamps from the end of the earth

My brother and his wife just came back from the End of the Earth. No kidding. They were in Argentina, in Patagonia, at the sourhernmost tip of the continent, which is the Southernmost city in the world—Ushuaia.  The passport control there volunteered to stamp people’s passport with the official stamps. My brother had his journal stamped. This is the place where the Atlantic meets the Pacific. The very edge of the earth–the end of land.

We compared translating the stamp as either “end of the earth” or “the end of the world” and decided that “end of the earth” was a geographical location and “end of the world” was a time stamp–one you wouldn’t be bringing back anywhere.

If you are wondering why this canal is called “Beagle” —it was the name of the boat Charles Darwin was on when he did his research on evolution and he sailed through the canal on his way to the Galapagos islands.

I haven’t seen my brother and his wife in more than five years. Not to put too fine a point on it, but at a certain age, waiting that long is taking a risk. So now that we are together, I keep thinking of what I should be showing them, or where we should be. It was a huge effort today to pull myself into the present, to stay right here with them right now, and not try to think about the next thing to do or how soon they are leaving. I want each moment to last forever, and yet I keep planning and thinking about dinner, or the next day. This is an important lesson, staying present. It’s easier when I’m doing work then when I’m having fun. Meanwhile, I hope the end of the world won’t happen just yet.

–Quinn McDonald is a writer and creativity coach.

Eating Chocolate as Meditation

The surprising mixture of hot spice and sweet is one of the great pleasures of a simple life. It wakes you up and calms you down. How hot?  Not melt-your-mascara hot, but spicy-kick hot, mixed with sweet. Chewy is a big plus in this mix.

This combination has the benefit of slowing you down as you eat. Most of us eat in the car, in the airport, while reading, phoning, texting. If you can’t slow down for your food, you are missing the great enjoyment in life that is cheap, easy and oh, so important to inner peace.  Something that’s chewy and sweet and spicy will be part of  heaven.

Chocolate covered mango with a kick

When I saw the dark-chocolate covered mango in Trader Joe’s, I had to try it. When I took a closer look and saw that it was not only dark chocolate covered mango, but sprinkled with hot pepper bits and salt, I thought I’d experienced perfection.

OK, not perfection in the visual department. It looks like bad doggie.  But the taste is heaven. No bolting this for me. I notice the texture first, then the heat

Mango, thick with

chocolate,glowing with

heat

comes up with the creamy chocolate. Finally the gritty salt heightens the sweet and the texture.

Eating dark chocolate covered mango is a mindful experience. I eat it slowly. I linger over each part of the experience. I delight in the chocolate melting, my tongue surprised by the salt. These aren’t pieces to wolf down, these are slow, lingering, mindful, zen-meditation chocolates. Who knew chocolate could be meditation?

–Quinn McDonald is a writer and certified creativity coach and mindful chocoholic.

Don’t Believe Everything You Think

Phoenix has a lot of dogs. Every morning, I’m greeted by barking dogs, dogs wanting to be petted, dogs out for a run. One house that I pass has a very quiet boxer who loves a little scratching, and a chocolate lab who barks incessently. This morning, I saw a third dog. He was fat and low-slung, and the ugliest dog I’ve ever seen.

Two dogs, one pig

As I walked toward the fence, the boxer and the ugly dog wrestled briefly, and the chocolate lab never stopped barking. As I got closer, I noticed the ugly dog was partially bald. A really ugly dog.

And suddenly my perspective shifted and I saw, not an ugly dog, but a handsome pig. The third dog was not dog, it was either a very large pot-bellied pig, or a small regular pig. It was no longer ugly, it was no longer bald. It had bristles like a pig.

Boxer and pig

When we look at things, people, even events, we see what we want to see. We make terrible eye witnesses to life. We see what we already know. We believe what we think we see. We make up conclusions to fit what we already believe. “She didn’t say hello to me so she must be angry.” “I forgot the milk when I was at the store, I hope it’s not Alzheimer’s.”  “Everything in the yard must be a dog.” I drew all my conclusions from recent experience.  And I was wrong. Once I could see the pig for what it was, I was ready to shift persepectives and judgment, to see it as it really was.

We have a tree in the back yard. It’s about 10 feet tall, and I have no idea what it is. I was waiting for it to bloom, to give me a hint. I was walking past it yesterday, when I noticed, out of the corner of my eye, what I took to be a wasp nest. My heart fell. I’m allergic to wasps, and just yesterday, when I was repotting an orchid, a wasp had been persistently hanging around me. Now here was a big nest.

What kind of tree is it?

I was about five feet past the tree when I stopped. The wasp nest was not shaped like a real wasp nest. It was round. And too light-colored. I backed up and there, in the tree, hung a single grapefruit, pale yellow like a full moon.

Grapefruit, just one

Yesterday’s wasp’s nest was today’s grapefruit. Because I didn’t know what the tree was, I didn’t recognize the fruit, which often grows in clusters. Although I’ve seen a number of grapefruit trees in the area, I’ve never seen a lone grapefruit on the tree.

We see what we expect to see.  We create people as we expect them to be. Forcing a new perspective can change the whole story, create an entirely new meaning, a new way of understanding. Interesting thought, isn’t it?

—Quinn McDonald is a writer and certified creativity coach. She teaches communications and personal journaling.

Studio Tips Using Non-Art Products

You promised yourself to spend more time in the studio, and here you are. Just you and your gremlin–that annoying  negative self-talk you use to avoid getting meaningful work done. So your gremlin is looking around the studio,  telling  you it’s too hard to do any meaningful work because there are so many things missing in your studio—maybe you should drop by the art store first.

Nice diversion technique, but not necessary. Here are some easy shortcuts and product substitutions that you probably already own or can find at an office-supply, craft, or general purpose store (are there any of those left?)

—Apron. I have a love/hate relationship with those big art aprons. Sure, they cover you, but they also pull up your shirt and you find yourself constantly tugging the back of your shirt down and re-tying the apron strings. If you are wearing a bib apron, and have a generous bosom, you are constantly tugging at the apron, which shifts across the front and doesn’t fit right at the neck. Ditch the apron. I wear a big cotton shirt with long sleeves (I can roll them up in warm weather) that I bought at my local Goodwill for $2.00, complete with Saks tags. I throw it into the wash when it gets dirty. But that doesn’t help my lap. Because I work sitting down, I toss a cheap towel over my lap. This allows me to wipe my hands or brush and keep my pants free from splashing water or ink. For people who stand and work, buy a cheap lab coat, or an oversize snap-front house dress.

— Water containers for paint brushes. There are many elegant (and expensive) containers that fold, have spiral brush

Use heavy scissors or cutting snips to make the cut.

holders or weighted bottoms. I prefer to use small and large yogurt or cottage cheese containers and their lids. I use small, squat cottage cheese containers for rinsing paint brushes. If you put the lid underneath, you create a rimmed coaster that is convenient for catching drips. Rinse the brush, and, if you don’t need it, place it across the top to keep the bristles from

Double your rinsing ability in the same space.

bending. I also cut a V-shape out of the container so the brush doesn’t roll off. (See pic. on right) If I’m working on a project that requires clean water and rinse water, I fill a small yogurt container with water and put it in the water-filled cottage cheese container. (See pic. on left) Two water reservoirs, same footprint. The yogurt container serves as first rinse, the cottage cheese container is good for adding clean water or a second rinse.

—Glue. There are as many glues as there are projects. For most of my prep work I use a good white glue in a small squeeze bottle. The bottle is small enough to fit completely in my hand, and the nozzle is thin. I keep a larger bottle to refill. I’ve used a million different glues, but I find one or two is really enough. Big secret: I’ve used many expensive PVA glues, but Elmer’s works for my projects–it will last for my lifetime, most likely longer. Glue sticks somehow don’t work for me–the stuff always  lifts up, but I still use Uhu for sticking this to that when I don’t need accuracy. I like the purple mark that lets me see where I put the glue and then vanishes as it dries. Need to find the perfect glue for your project? Use the website this to that.

—Brushes. OK, here is where I will stand up for the good thing. If you are covering a large area with gesso, glue or paint, don’t use the hardware brush. They lose bristles, and pulling those off the painting is time consuming, messy and frustrating. Sure, you can use a foam brush, but they suck up a lot of extra product, and gesso isn’t cheap. Buy “student grade” brushes and keep them well rinsed–in that yogurt container– and you’ll be happier. You can use a glue brush for a long time by rinsing it periodically during work and when you are done.

—Page markers. You need to look up techniques, references, or sources sooner or later. Mark your books, magazines, journals as you go along. My favorite way is using Avery NoteTabs. These are light-weight plastic tabs that you can write on and use a highlighter on. They stick the way sticky notes do, but a bit stronger, so you can use them to turn the pages when your hands are dirty. The notes are all tabs–they create a handle. they are also glued all over the square, so they hang on

Examples of Avery NoteTabs

better. I use them not only to mark the page I need, but also to underline the portion of the page that’s important without writing in the book. They come in various sizes including months and days of the week and alphabet. I like the monthly ones for putting on the cover of my magazines–I can find the months without squinting at the spine.

—Tweezers. A great tool if you do paper work. Picks up pieces of collage papers when you have glue on your hands, turns pages to find something when your hands are wet, picks up rivets, glue dots, buttons, and other teensy objects when you can’t because you have arthritis, neuropathy or other problems.

—Quinn McDonald is a writer and life- and creativity coach. She also develops and teaches training programs for business communications.

Word for the Year

Several people I know choose a word to represent the New Year. Instead of making resolutions, they choose a word and consider it as a guide for the year. If you read this blog, you know I’m not fond of resolutions—too hard to keep, not enough support, built-in feeling of failure by March. But a word to use as a touchstone? Now that sounds like a good idea.

Rebecca Leigh, a writer, chose Wholeness. Rebecca’s description of how the word chose her is worth reading. The world enveloped Rebecca and brought her plans, aspirations, even her work, into sharper focus. That’s an idea worth playing with.

Sunrise in Phoenix

So I set out to let a word choose me, as well. I thought of several but they were not special enough. So I quit thinking. I had yard work to do. And while I was sweeping fig leaves off the patio, it came to me: Light.

Light as in illuminated, to make sure that I don’t plunge into dark thoughts, assigning people motives I don’t know about, but talking, asking, getting clarity. That kind of light. Also, to shine the light of compassion into dark corners; the light of fairness into decisions; the light of caring into relationships.

Light as in the opposite of heavy. To see the humor, the easy side first, to enjoy that view before I think of all the reasons that are heavy and burdensome.

Light, as in set a spark to. To build a fire of enthusiasm, to hold something close to my heart in warmth and enthusiasm.

Light, as in nature’s gift. Sunlight, moonlight, starlight. To make sure that I don’t spend too much time in front of my computer’s glow and get out more—where the real learning starts.

“Stand in your own light” is the phrase I use to describe my coaching practice. No more attaching yourself to someone else’s glory to make yourself look good. You are enough. You have enough. You can stand in your own light.

It’s a wonderful word to hold up to this year. I see it as a way to guide me through both spiritual and mental darkness, to remind me that more gets done by compassion than by anger;  by working than by thinking about working; by creativity than by pedantry; by trusting my gut instead of living in my head.

Yes, it is my word for 2010.

What’s your word for this year?

—Quinn McDonald is a writer, life- and creativity coach.