How to Take a Pretend Vacation

October 25, 2012October 28, 2012 / Jill Winski / 4 Comments

I realized this afternoon that, kind of without being totally aware of it, I’ve slid into one of my oh-so-rare “pretend vacations.”

A Pretend Vacation is something I give myself when I’m a little overwhelmed, a little run-down, or maybe just feeling more reflective and inward than usual. It might last a day; it might last three. It’s never a planned thing. It’s like a need that asserts itself in a small voice; if I don’t listen, it speaks up more sharply.

I suspect the need for a Pretend Vacation has been coming on for several weeks. Maybe it’s kicked in because of the events of this past weekend: Saturday morning, while eating a Larabar, my crown popped off and I almost swallowed it. Did you know when a crown comes completely off, it has a little pointy screw thing sticking out of it? Be warned.

Then, Saturday night, there was a party. I have an interesting relationship with parties. If I can get myself to them, I like them. For about twenty minutes. I stayed at this one for three hours. (But it was a Halloween party! Costumes! Gummy worms soaked in vodka! And “Poltergeist” and “The Exorcist” on TV all night! My inner scary-movie-lover was happy; my inner HSP-introvert was overstimulated.)

I spent Wednesday morning in my lovely dentist’s office as she dealt with the gaping hole in my gum. Throw in a couple other unexpected and stress-inducing issues over the past few days and, on cue, need for Pretend Vacation makes itself known.

A real vacation is planned in advance. It involves taking time away from work, maybe more time with family or friends, or not, maybe traveling to another place, or not, but there is an interruption of one’s normal routine.

In my Pretend Vacations, my normal routine goes on. I just scale it back as much as possible. I do everything that’s a priority — keep my appointments with clients, do my writing, feed my cat. But I cut out anything I might normally do but don’t really need to. Today, for example, laundry and the dishes fell right off the list so I could sit quietly and drink Midnight Velvet tea. I haven’t been on social media much. I let a couple of phone calls go to voice mail.

The intention behind a Pretend Vacation is to create a container for the part of me that is vulnerable, tired, and wants to move inward to reflect or rest, while not completely removing myself from my life. I’ve noticed on a Pretend Vacation, choices I might usually waver over become really, really clear. I also notice I’m gentler with myself than I usually am, and I’m less likely to respond to things that don’t really require a response from me.

There’s something to be learned here, methinks. Can I invoke this Pretend Vacation mindset for the parts of me that are vulnerable, overwhelmed, or scared, while still attending to the parts of me that don’t want to leave the party because “The Exorcist” hasn’t gotten to the really good parts yet?

I can’t necessarily care for all these parts of myself — all these selves — on the same day, in the same moment, but I can let them all know that they will get their say, they will be heard by me, and none of them will be left out.

I can also let the sensation-seeking parts of me — my inner adventurer, my inner scary movie buff — and the driven, perfectionistic parts — know that, in the long run, a Pretend Vacation is good for all of us.

And a Real Vacation is even better.

For a related article, click here.

Image is TOY ON THE BEACH © Cristina | Dreamstime.com

What It Really Means to be an Introvert

October 15, 2012 / Jill Winski / 6 Comments

Many of the creators I work with as a coach are introverts. But some of them have a hard time owning this.

I get it. As I was growing up, I learned that there were these “social definitions” of introvert and extrovert. These definitions went something like this: An introvert is quiet, shy, and keeps to herself. She’s not very friendly. She needs to learn to be more outgoing and social. An extrovert is gregarious, charming, engaging. She has lots of friends. People really like her and she’s socially well-adjusted.

Naturally, most people wanted to feel they were the second thing, not the first. I know I absolutely hated being labeled “shy”, and my parents and most of my teachers wanted me to “combat my shyness.” I always felt they were not seeing me for who I was.

I think a lot of people nowadays (I hope, anyway) have a better understanding of what an introvert actually is. But I know here in the U.S. there’s still a cultural bias in favor of extroversion. Recently when I mentioned to someone that I work mostly from home, she said, “Oh, gosh, you don’t want to spend too much time at home. You might become an introvert!”

It hit me once again that the reason some of us struggle to accept ourselves as introverts — and try to live contrary to our nature — is because these old “social definitions” of introvert and extrovert are still intact.

Actually, the definitions of introvert and extrovert that I prefer may be even older. Jung defined introversion as “predominately inward-looking” and extroversion as “predominately outward-looking.” What this means is that introverts are naturally inclined toward delving into their inner worlds, whereas extroverts are more inclined toward interacting in the outer world. And everyone is at a different point on the introvert-extrovert spectrum — we’re all some of both, but to varying degrees.

I am probably not the most extreme of introverts, but I’m way up there on the scale. This DOESN’T mean that I am always quiet and that I dislike being around people. It means that because I take anything I experience in the outer world and turn it inward in order to process it, I need a certain amount of downtime in which to chew on things and recharge my battery.

So, my bandwidth for socializing and being in the “outer world” is finite, and if I don’t respect that and push myself beyond my limits, I’ll become overwhelmed and depleted. What overwhelmed and depleted looks like in me is spacey, irritated, tired, quiet, withdrawn, and yes, sometimes it may look “shy” or create shy behavior — in other words, I may become fearful in situations that normally wouldn’t cause me to be so because my battery isn’t charged and I know I don’t have the energy to deal with them at the moment.

This is why traditional school and work settings are often not ideal for introverts — we run out of steam and feel like we’re running on empty, try to retreat to our inner worlds to get recharged, and discover this isn’t acceptable in the company of (most) others. Then we start judging ourselves for not being able to act like extroverts, who recharge their batteries by being with people and engaging in activities.

Because I understand my introversion so well (though I’m always learning more about my needs) I love the fact that I’m an introvert and I fully embrace it. This hasn’t always been true for me, but now that it is, my life flows so much more smoothly. When I can accept the ebbs and flows of my own energy and give myself the downtime I need — and own that in the company of others — I can show up fully myself.

I’d love to see all introverts embrace their nature and see how it works for them as creators. I’ll talk more about this future posts.

Check out Marti Olsen Laney’s “The Introvert Advantage” or Susan Cain’s “Quiet” if you’d like to read more about embracing your introversion (or understanding a loved one who’s an introvert). And if you struggle with accepting and working with your introverted nature, check out my one-on-one coaching opportunities. I love working with introverts!

Image is FEATHER IN THE FOREST © Paige Foster | Dreamstime.com

Being Patient with Impatience

October 3, 2012 / Jill Winski / 6 Comments

Two Saturdays ago, I had one of my marathon journaling sessions where I seemed to be taking dictation from the universe, and I made a long list of things I want to do to move forward with my coaching practice, my writing, and my life in general. All the things on this list felt exciting, organic, juicy. Enthusiasm flooded through me. Clarity! Momentum! I couldn’t wait to get started. I was sure that in, say, a week, all these things would be effortlessly accomplished and I’d be “on my way” — whatever it is that means.

Fast-forward nine days, to this past Monday evening. I’d spent the most of the day, and the night before, in frustration, confused, vaguely panicked, complaining to my boyfriend that I just couldn’t get anything done and I didn’t know why. This shouldn’t be so hard, I kept hearing myself say. I’m so behind schedule, I kept hearing myself say. Somehow my exuberance, enthusiasm and excitement had become — what? I couldn’t pinpoint it at first, and then I realized what it was: Impatience. Of the extreme variety.

There’s a line from the movie “Postcards from the Edge” — I’m paraphrasing here, but it goes something like this: “In the movies, you have a big realization and your life changes. In life, you have a big realization and six months later your life changes.”

Sigh. Yes, it’s true — things generally do not happen as quickly as I think I would like them to happen. And often, I get clear on a vision of what I want, and then realize — thud! — that there’s a lot of letting go and restructuring that has to happen before that vision can actually become reality. And sometimes, in the process of moving toward that vision, I change, or I understand myself better, and I realize that what I thought I wanted is no longer what I do want.

Sometimes it really will be six months before the change I want is ready to be born. Sometimes it will be a year. Sometimes (as in this case — I think!), it just means I have to do what I want to do over the course of a month instead of a week.

What’s clear is that that graspy, impatient, want-it-yesterday voice inside me is not the voice of my inner wisdom — though it certainly seems like the truth when I’m in the grip of it. But I can tell it is not the truth by the behavior and results it creates — haste, confusion, spinning in circles, accidentally deleting almost-finished blog posts, stubbing my toe on the chair leg.

Impatience is one of the most common themes with my coaching clients. And I’m right there with them. We want to hurry the process so we can get to the reward, forgetting that the only tangible reward is right here, in the process.

The voice of impatience ruins the process.

I picked up SARK’s wonderful book “Make Your Creative Dreams Real” last night for a little bit of guidance. I knew I needed to get grounded. Can you believe the book actually opened to a section titled “Impatience”? I didn’t even remember ever reading this section of the book before, but there it was.

She writes: “Being patient with our creative dreams, our lives, and ourselves can only shelter and nourish us. I am learning ways to be patient with myself and my creative dreams.”

Most of us are pretty familiar with impatience. Our culture teaches us impatience and instant gratification. Be counter-culture. Nurture patience in yourself, even though it may feel unnatural and unfamiliar.

There’s an upside to impatience, too, though. It means you’re opening up to bigger stuff. It means you’re getting ready for newness. Sometimes, it means you’re no longer willing for things to be as they have been because you’ve outgrown them.

And that is all good! But if it’s not moving as quickly as you’d like it to, see if you can hold that impatience in patience’s wider lens. See if you can take a more expansive view — what Martha Beck calls “eagle vision” — and allow yourself to feel that deep knowing that you are exactly where you are supposed to be right now, doing exactly what you are supposed to do in this moment.