Setting Limits

The Zumba class was filled with people from teens to seniors. The weights ranged from size 2 to 22. And the instructor, telling us she had lost 50 pounds doing Zumba, ran through the usual warnings–don’t push, don’t do what you can’t do, just keep moving. She then broke into a description of the first dance, it involved slides and hop-hop-hop, and turns and some sort of hand jive.

She faced us and the music began. Most of the people in the class knew this routine. I didn’t. Hands waved, hips tied with jangling belly-dancing scarves pulsed, and the dance was on. I had no idea what to do. My brain has trouble seeing someone facing the class and transferring it to movements facing the teacher. I hop-hop-hopped–right into a woman who was experienced enough to have successfully translated the movements of the instructor.

There were whole routines that I marched through rather than danced through. Sweat began to streak my T-shirt, so I was getting the cardio effect, if not the dance. Truthfully, I felt horrible. Dumb. Clumsy. Heavy.  Slow. But at the end of class, eight people had left and I was still standing.

 woman I met before class, came up and said “Isn’t this the best time ever?” She meant it. Her hip belt jangled with bells and spangles. The flashing spangles matched her eyes. She was thrilled. I felt far from “best time ever.” Too far.

After class, I sat in the car, wishing I could stop at Starbucks for a sugar-laden drink. But sugar is out of my life. It’s off limits. Behind the line. And as I sat there, I decided to move Zumba behind the line, too. Half of being smart is knowing what you are dumb at and not doing it.

In America, the idea is that you can do whatever you put your mind to. You can be whoever you want to be. And I don’t believe that. You can work hard, and you can be determined, but some things aren’t possible for everyone. And after possible, there is the willing. And I am not willing to hire someone to tutor me in Zumba. I don’t think it’s fun. I don’t look forward to it. And in exercise, the key to doing it often is doing something you like. So, with no regret, but a bit of guilt, I moved Zumba behind the limit line.

I am not limitless. But what I want to do is choose what is possible and find the joy in that. I’ve spent too much of my life in grim determination proving I can work as hard as the best, as long as the best, smarter than the best. Determination is a daily tool, but I want to switch the grim to joy.

The gym has a lot to offer me, but Zumba is not part of it. I will find another movement joy, and meanwhile, Zumba and the love of sugar will have to be beyond the limit.

—Quinn McDonald owes a debt of gratitude to her own coach for the metaphor that made her feel successful about giving up Zumba.

Letting it Go? or Giving Up?

It’s a thin line, a shadow of a difference, but it changes the road you are on from a long hard climb up a scree-strewn path to a road you have chosen, maybe not for its easy travel, but because you are willing to walk where it takes you.

It’s the difference between Giving Up and Letting Go.

Whether it’s a decision made in your studio, your echoing mind, your hollow heart or a closed-in hospital room, giving up is coming face to face with who you are and how much you can give. It’s often unwilling, exhausted, and the only idea you have left. And sometimes it’s made out of fear, anger and retribution. You give up when your effort is no longer rewarded in any way you can recognize.

Letting go feels different. Letting go may be shaded by sorrow, but it is lit by strength. Letting go comes from self-knowledge and the ability to give up control, give up expectations of how much you can steer the outcome. You may care, but you have weighed the choices carefully, balanced your ability with how much heart you have left, and you have chosen. Deliberately.

Giving up and letting go can both be uncomfortable, but giving up tastes like ashes and letting go is a long cool drink in the desert. You may still have a long way to walk in the hot sun, but you know where you are going.

–-Quinn McDonald is a creativity coach and art journaler. She’s done both giving up and letting go. And letting go is done with open hands and open heart, and giving up is done with clenching fists and fear.

Put Your Effort Where It Works

Wishing for what isn’t is not way to live happily. Wishing that it were cooler (if you live here in the Sonoran Desert) makes it seem hotter. Wishing you were richer makes you feel poorer.

All those yellow flowers and green leaves? They’re not coming back.

In July, the serious heat sets in. July is the hottest month for most Northern Hemisphere areas, and we often have 30 days of more than 110 degrees–they aren’t consecutive,  but most of them happen in July and August. Each year, I buy plants that say “full sun” on the little white plastic spears that come in the pot.  Our “full sun” melts the little plastic signs, so the plants don’t

Each year I struggle to keep those plants alive. That makes as much sense as trying to keep the leaves on the trees in October in Vermont. It’s just not going to happen.

This morning I quit watering the straw those plants turned into and decided to put my efforts into the ones that could survive without a lot of extra work.

Not going to make it, no matter how much love I pour on it.

And that’s exactly what happens with your creativity, too. Put it in a place where it can’t possibly survive, and the struggle is ugly and non-productive.

Whether that’s a bad relationship, bad retreat you feel you should have loved, bad project you thought would be great, or bad book you are reading, there are some efforts that won’t be rewarded. Goethe, the German thinker and poet, said “Die Arbeit ist nicht immer mit Erfolg gekrönt,” —Your work is not always guaranteed success. (I know it’s not the literal translation, the interpretation was called for here.)

So why not eliminate all those dead projects that aren’t worth saving? Flogging a dead horse is not always noble or even what’s called for. Sometimes it’s far more worthwhile to be very honest, determine that you do not have the stamina, strength, materials, smarts or spirit to make this project succeed, or even move forward. The smart thing to do is to stop pouring your effort into a bottomless pit and spend more of your effort doing something that will give you a better result.

This is the one that will make it. This is the place to put the effort.

Half of being smart is knowing what you are dumb at and not doing it. The other half, of course, is knowing what you are good at and doing more of it.

Yes, this is different from stopping because you are bored or tired, or walking away from your marriage because there is something more appealing to go after.  You know the projects. You’ve been there. Spend the precious water you have in the Sonoran desert to nurture the plant that can adapt to the desert. Put your energy behind the projects that will work. They will thrive and so will you.

–Quinn McDonald is a writer and certified creativity coach.

Create Where You Are Now

Wishing for what isn’t is not way to boost your creativity. Wishing that it were cooler (if you live here, in the Sonoran Desert) makes it seem hotter. Wishing you were richer makes you feel poorer.

Used to be green with tons of yellow flowers. Not any more.

In July, the serious heat sets in. July is the hottest month for most Northern Hemisphere areas, and we often have 30 days of more than 110 degrees–they aren’t consecutive,  but most of them happen in July and August. Each year, I buy plants that say “full sun” on their needs. Now, “full sun” may mean 6 to 8 hours of sunshine, but it doesn’t mean the broiler we have here. And each year I struggle to keep those plants alive. That makes as much sense as trying to keep the leaves on the trees in October in Vermont. It’s just not going to happen.

This morning I quit watering the straw those plants turned into and decided to put

Not going to make it, no matter how much care I give it.

my efforts into the ones that could survive without a lot of extra work.

And that’s exactly what happens with your creativity, too. Put it in a place where it can’t possibly survive, and the struggle is ugly and non-productive.

Whether that’s a bad relationship, bad conference you feel you should have loved, bad project you thought would be great, or bad book you are reading, there are some efforts that won’t be rewarded. Goethe, the German thinker and poet, said “Die Arbeit ist nicht immer mit Erfolg gekrönt,” —Your work is not always guaranteed success. (I know it’s not the literal translation, the interpretation was called for here.)

So why not eliminate all those dead places that aren’t worth saving? Flogging a dead horse is not always noble or even what’s called for. Sometimes it’s far more worthwhile to be very honest, determine that you do not have the stamina, strength, materials, smarts or spirit to make this project succeed, or even move forward. The smart thing to do is to stop pouring your effort into a bottomless pit and spend more of your effort doing something that will give you a better result.

This is the one that will make it. This is the place to put the effort.

Yes, this is different from stopping because you are bored or tired, or walking away from your marriage because there is something more appealing to go after.  You know the projects. You’ve been there. Spend the precious water you have in the Sonoran desert to nurture the plant that can adapt to the desert. Put your energy behind the projects that will work. You will be better off for it.

–Quinn McDonald is a writer and life coach. She has a website at QuinnCreative.com