Learning to Court Your Monster

December 24, 2014

This past September, I had the pleasure of joining a couple hundred visionary thinkers and leaders at an event produced by Jonathan and Stephanie Fields and their support crew under the umbrella of their Good Life Project. 

On the last night of the event, a talent show was held with the idea, as I understood it at the time, that it’d be a fun, mindless event with a handful of people doing some songs, silly skits, and maybe a few trivial tricks.

It was anything but.

Barry Solway’s book will delight your heart and soul!


For over three hours, people took the stage and opened their souls with raw – and often times very polished – talent. I’ve never experienced an occasion in which an audience was moved from doubled-over laughter to heart-touching tears and back again with such frequency. Or the number of standing ovations genuinely given in response to the shear amazement elicited by so many varied presentations.

One of those who did all three was Barry Solway. Barry tentatively, almost apologetically, read a story he’d written for his niece off his iPhone. Not only did he have folks laughing, but midway through almost everyone was crying. When he finished, folks leapt to their feet with applause and cheers. So great was the response that a team of believers surrounded Barry and helped get his book into print before Christmas.

You can read a post about the event from Jonathan Fields’ blog this week. You can also order either a print or electronic copy of Courtship of the Monster Under the Bed here.

Read it with your child. Read it to your child. Read it for your inner child. You’re welcome.

~ Charles









Creating Space for Gratitude

November 27, 2014

Creating time and emotional space to be thankful in the midst of a deep struggle — or even a time of emotional darkness — does not seem either intuitive or congruent with the over-riding fear of a particular moment.

However, I’ve come to believe that it is one of the most important and necessary actions we take during the times of discouragement we all, at one point or another, have to face.

And by action, I mean that being thankful, or showing gratitude, is an intentional, active process. 

About three years ago, I was reading a magazine article about a woman who, in preparing for a divorce, had kept a daily log of the things her husband did wrong and the ways that he upset her. It occurred to me in that moment that if she’d instead kept a journal of everything her husband did right, and that she appreciated about him and her life, the story might’ve taken a different turn.

That day, I started a ‘gratitude’ journal where I write down every night as I’m going to bed at least three things that I am grateful for or that I did right that day. It has transformed my thinking.

This year has been the most tumultuous year that I can remember, in both the business and personal aspects of my life. But the process of acknowledging the good things that I’m grateful for each day has helped me go to sleep with a positive frame around each day, minimizing the stress and worry that almost certainly would have kept me from getting the sleep my mind and body needed.

It seems too simple. Too benign to have any significance.

But the daily habit – the process – of reflecting on the people in my life and the gifts that have flowed out of each day’s abundance has made a huge difference in how I approach my life. I find myself looking for what each opportunity offers rather than what it costs. I find myself anticipating good, so that I’ll have something good to write. And that, in itself, is something I’m grateful for.




A Celebration of Investment

November 17, 2014

Thirty-five years ago, we were married. United in a ceremony in which we committed to the words, “until death us do part.”

Yet five years after that November day in 1979, we were in the process of planning a divorce. We were two years ahead of the seven-year itch, ready to separate our possessions and our lives.

We had grown in different directions and were in the mindset of portioning out what little we owned into boxes that would accompany each of us as we struck out on our individual, no longer united journeys.

There was no surface acrimony. We were eerily calm and reflective about the whole affair. But even the most well thought out logic is deeply infused with emotion.

In a moment of what I credit to be divine insight, I proposed that we take a month off from our plans to separate and, instead, go on a series of dates and act as if we were trying to get to know each other again. To ask questions about each other’s interest and explore them with the same degree of interest that we would if we were dating someone new, which we figured we might be doing relatively soon anyway.

As crazy as it sounds, it worked. 

What had caused us to grow apart was a lack of willingness to grow together, to maintain a desire to express a genuine interest in what the other cared about.

Occasionally, I’ll hear the story of a couple that has had 30, 40, or even 50+ years of marital bliss. It has not been all rainbows and glitter for us through the years since. There were several times that we could have easily split apart. What kept us from pulling apart were the lessons we learned from that first near-divorce.

Although it was painful at the time, our imminent split was one of the best lessons we’ve faced. I learned how fragile our relationships can be and how important it is to work at salvaging them. I am stunned by how readily many people jettison other people because the relationship they share becomes difficult or challenging.

This past year – hell, the last several years — have had multiple stressful events that could’ve driven a wedge or created enough stress to split our alliance. But we now have the experience to understand and the tools needed to pull together rather than apart.

Thirty years ago, it felt so much easier to cash out our account rather than to invest in and fight for the long haul. I cannot emphasize enough the dividends we’ve received as a result of the struggles and celebrations that have come our way instead.

Because our anniversary falls so close to the Thanksgiving celebration, it’s a timely reminder each year of the blessings we’ve shared because of our challenges, not in spite of them.

I offer my thanks to Linda for staying with me on this journey and to the many folks throughout the years who’ve stuck with and encouraged us along the way. 




How Are You Waiting?

August 27, 2014

I’ve spent more time in waiting areas in the past several months than I’ve cumulatively spent in such spaces during the majority of my life up to this point. Most of my waiting time has been in hospitals and medical environments.

What became shockingly clear to me as I looked around was how few people plan and use their waiting time productively, even when they knew their time sitting would span hours or most of a day or more.

While most of those around me were glued to their cell phones as a chief means of distraction, when a phone wasn’t stuck in front of their noses, they watched the ever present TV with a blank stare, mindlessly ate whatever fast food fare was nearby, and/or just stared into space.

I acknowledge my tendency to over-compensate, but I usually take several hours worth of reading, writing, and work projects with me nearly everywhere I go.

While I’m more than a little perplexed as to why others don’t do the same, I’ve also taken these opportunities as fodder for thinking more deeply about how all of us use the waiting or ‘in-between’ spaces in our lives.

If you think about it, much of our life is spent waiting. We’re waiting for a returned email or phone call to come. Waiting for a project to be approved so we can begin work on it. Waiting for kids to be back in school so that routines can be reset again. Waiting for the end of the school year to put the house on the market and move. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting.

For the last three years, I’ve had to deal with several family matters that have required more patience and waiting than I’ve ever been called upon to endure. Combined with some severe business and financial droughts and a couple of health surprises, this period has pushed my patience button further than I believed I could go.

I believe I have a higher capacity for uncertainty – which is what a lot of waiting entails – than most. But what do we do with that time?

At a point of deep despair and doubt that movement would ever occur again on several fronts, I kept thinking that if I didn’t have these concerns holding me up, I’d have more mental resources available to focus on a list of goals I’d written out. As the loop continued, I thought, “Yea, if I wasn’t having to keep my mind on these particular issues, I’d throw myself into this project, then that one, then that one!” Then the most unsettling thought occurred – “Then why don’t you just do the first one anyway, because it ain’t getting’ done while you’re waiting.”


I had a list of some conferences I wanted to attend, some story projects I wanted to film, and a couple of social events I wanted to initiate. So I finally got to it.

I got on line and registered for three conferences that I wanted to attend – the StoryLine conference in Nashville, SXSW in Austin, and World Domination Summit in Portland – and started making travel arrangements. As I’ve attended these three events over the past year, I’ve had the opportunity to film segments for story projects I wanted to initiate. Two of those projects – the Legacy Project and Fear and Boulders – have five or more interviews already filmed or in production.

In retrospect, I wonder if I would have really set out and committed to each of these goals had it not been for my determination not to waste my time waiting.

I needed to invest myself in goals and objectives that were attainable and not allow myself to get caught up in the malaise or anxiety that often comes when waiting for events outside our control to move the needle forward.

When school starts and the kids are out of the house, your surgery is over and recovery underway, or when the phone rings and the project you’ve been waiting on is approved to start working, what will you have accomplished or lost during that time of uncertainty and fear while you waited? 

Is it possible to make that decision now, while you’ve got the time? While you’re waiting?




She looked “rode hard” — and well on the way to being road-hardened — as she slumped into the seat next to mine, another airport meal in tow.

Because of a flight delay, she’d missed her connection and was waiting stand-by to hopefully board the flight from Atlanta to Raleigh-Durham.

Rachel told me that she is on the road 3-5 days each week in sales for a fast-growing technology company. The money is good enough to keep her tied to it, she said, but the glamour of travel is long gone.

Her life for the foreseeable future looks like a long, hellish journey schlepping through airports, traveling to myriad trade shows and presentations, one after another then back again.

As we chatted, I asked what she wanted to do. She said she and her husband were dreaming and hoping for the “big idea” that would rocket them to riches.

I said that most of the obvious big ideas started out as not-so-obvious small ideas and a helluva lotta hard work.

She said half dreamily that if they could just find that one big idea they could be rich and not have to work like that.

Michael Hyatt speaking at the World Domination Summit. Photo by Armosa Studios. #WDS2014

The irony for me was that we were returning from the World Domination Summit in Portland, OR, where we’d just listened to dozens of stories from speakers and attendees alike who’d been in financial places less fortunate than Rachel’s, but who had taken insane ideas and worked their butts off to build their own success in the process.

Each of them was committed to the hard work of bringing focused action to bear on their ideas in addition to dreaming big.

We hear so many “overnight success” stories that lead many people to believe that the secret is simply finding the right idea, buying the appropriate domain, and sitting back while the online sales rack up.

Too few talk about the grinding work, broken relationships, and multiple failures that seem to accompany the overnight miracles. Or when they do, maybe it’s just that very few listen.

A couple of nuggets I’ve picked up that have resonated with my experience through the years:

• Take consistent, ninja-focused action in your work.

• Spend less high-energy time on social media.

• Put people over profits.

• Failure is an integral part of the process of succeeding.

• Be willing to take imperfect action.

But one of my favorite morsels of advice, and quite appropriate to my airport conversation, came from New York Times best-selling author A.J. Jacobs at this year’s World Domination Summit: “It’s easier to act your way into new thinking than it is to think your way into new action.”

But, of course, that’s easier said than done…  

~ Charles




Regret occurs in our lives when the consequences of “bad” choices we make slam into the ideal we have of ourselves as good people.

Three recent examples from my life:

• I did not complete a written contract for a project several months ago before undertaking the work. That oversight led to a number of misunderstandings and miscommunications that have bogged down the project, wasted an inordinate amount of time, and potentially exacted a huge toll on the working relationships.

• I loaned money to a buddy to try to help him get out of a financial bind only to learn that he’s used the resources to dig a deeper hole of debt to climb out of rather than use good judgment to get out of the mid-sized hole he was in when he came to me.

• I did not move quickly when I learned that my aunt’s step-daughter took her to an attorney to have herself named as my aunt’s personal representative. Had I moved more quickly and decisively, I believe I could have prevented a legal and personal quagmire that has lasted three years to date. 

Although I consider myself fairly reasoned and intelligent, in each situation, I allowed urgency to over-shadow my better judgment. I was caught up in the busyness of too many commitments, and simply tried to make an important decision without the clarity of quiet separation from the critical issue at hand.

Because I see myself as thoughtful and deliberate, each of these oversights was like a kick in my stomach and something I greatly regretted doing. But each instance has also taught me a huge lesson in discernment.

What I am learning is that the bridge needed to cross the chasm that separates regret from wisdom is built with personal forgiveness and grace. In none of the situations did I intend to do something wrong.

By moving away from regret and towards understanding, I spend less unproductive time wallowing in shame and more constructive energy producing work that can have an impact for other people. Wallowing in regret and shame drains my heart of the willingness to risk again, if I let it.

If you do anything of any substance, that has any chance of making a difference in people’s lives, you’re going to face failure. And when you do, regret is going to raise its nasty head. I’ve yet to learn how to decapitate and leave it for dead. But I am learning to not sit down with it and let it devour me. I’m learning to build that bridge and move to greater wisdom.

In my work with clients, I frequently hear mistakes and regrets pop up in our discussions. The fear of making errors shuts them off to possibilities. I try to use those conversations as a sounding board to hear my own angst and address it. Because often we can’t recognize our fears until they’re revealed in the lives around us.

How about you? What are your regrets? How are they holding your story hostage?





Is Good, Enough?

June 10, 2014


                                              “How we spend our days is how we spend our lives.”                                                                                                                  ~ Annie Dillard

Surely, you’ve experienced it.

As you’re working out the details for a pending project — or maybe while you’re in the middle of a vexing complication — your client comes to the conclusion that maybe the problem is the bar Is just set too high.

“Maybe we should just settle for something more realistic.”

“I’m not sure we’re going to have the budget to make this baby a prize-winner. Maybe on the next one.”

“Sometimes good enough really is, don’t you think?”

When I ask, “What do you want to eliminate and still keep the outcome acceptable?”, the response is usually a reflection of the decision maker’s fears or lack of commitment to excellence rather than the actual constraints of the situation. Seldom do the extra resources required to make a project stand out really cost significantly more in terms of budget or effort.

Will settling for ‘Good Enough’ be good enough to build your life on?

The more deeply I become aware of the impact of self-protection issues in the workplace, the more I realize that many people, even those in seemingly high positions in organizations, are often afraid of excellence. They don’t want their work to stand out in a way that raises the bar because their next project may be compared to what they’ve done and new expectations set.

Are there ever times when “good enough” is? Sure!

But I believe making that decision in the planning stage of the project – based on the desired impact – is the right choice, not as a rationalization or an excuse for lack of commitment in the middle of the process.

As the opening quote by Annie Dillard suggests, when you spend your life – day after day after yet another tedious day – settling for good enough, you may one day find out that it wasn’t. 







“Do not fall in love with people like me. I will take you to museums, and parks, and monuments, and kiss you in every beautiful place, so that you can never go back to them without tasting me like blood in your mouth. I will destroy you in the most beautiful way possible. And when I leave, you will finally understand why storms are named after people.” ―Caitlyn Siehl, Literary Sexts: A Collection of Short & Sexy Love Poems

As I was reading this opening verse on “Art Parasites,” I was again reminded how much I want to allocate my “people time” to be with individuals that I care for so much that I feel pangs of hurt to be away from them. Friends that I ache to be apart from. Clients that I care about so much that I wonder how their business and personal lives are faring.

As part of my planning schedule, I’m trying to incorporate an “energy review” where I think about the kinds of people and events that either add to my reserves or draw them down. If people I’m spending my time and energy on are consuming my resources, I need to be assessing my return on investment from being with them.

Have you ever been around someone who had the ability to just light up a room – by leaving it? Or the flip-side — the people who make everything seem bright and possible when they’re around?

I wrote out my core business values several years ago after an experience of working with a client who was a drain on my immediate energy resources and my reserves. Up to that point, I hadn’t realized that my values were based on emotional energy. Energy generated by positive, collaborative relationships. Energy I needed to re-invest into doing great work.

I’ve had a habit for most of my life of using my energy the way most people use fossil fuels — with the thought that, even though the price may fluctuate for various reasons, there must be an unlimited quantity because it’s always there when I want it. 

But no energy source is either infinite or without infrastructure costs.

Over time, I’ve realized that particular people have a particularly high cost of infrastructure maintenance. And upon reflection, because I wasn’t cognizant of how I burned my own emotional fuel, I’ve been higher maintenance for people around me than I ever should have asked them to tolerate.

As an introvert, I understand that “people time” taxes my energy reserves. Therefore, it’s critical for me to invest my time into being with people that I long to be with, that challenge me to grow into my best possible self. These are people that encourage me to jettison those parts of myself that are impeding my potential. People who will destroy me in the most beautiful way possible.  

But to ask someone to be that source of encouragement for me, I have to develop the character traits that allow me to provide the same support to them.

Developing awareness may help you become cognizant of the times when you are a possible drain on others, but most importantly, it may be the first step towards making the changes needed to conserve energy for what matters most, your work. 





As a result of several unexpected events over the last few months, Linda and I have been entirely out of sync with our normal routine. All of the systems that guide our work and productivity have been affected. It seems as if every form of traction has instead sent us spinning; and virtually all plans for forward motion have come to a grinding halt.

In our struggle to get back to “normal,” we’ve started asking – with great fear – is this our new normal? Will this be the way it will always be from here forward?

Have you ever been there? Are you there right now?

It was in this mindset that I happened to listen to the most recent TED talk by Elizabeth Gilbert entitled, “Success, Failure and the Drive to Keep Creating.” In it, Gilbert talks about discovering the need to return to her “home,” her name for that place where she is safe and most needs to be in order to create. For her, ‘home’ is her process of writing.

As Linda and I talked about our “home” – or place of creating – I realized for me, “home” is the implementation of  understanding, or rather, taking action on what I’m learning.

What that means is that for me, knowledge isn’t practical without applying it. My satisfaction comes from learning something and putting it to use. Whether it is in the form of producing a still photograph, short film, blog post, presentation, or even a resource shared with a friend over lunch, the place I realize my contribution is when I transfer my value from what I’ve gleaned and synthesized to someone who can use it to add meaning or impact to their life. It is the process of that exchange that determines my place of comfort.

I’d like to be able to say that my place of comfort is simply “being.” That wherever I am, I’m just comfortable with myself, whether at rest or in motion. But my reality is that I need to be synthesizing information and sharing it in some form. In that process I actually find my rest and my sense of purpose combined.

It’s in these small revelations stacked one upon another that I find great insights. It’s these insights that turn on my lights of understanding and empathy to help other people tell their story or reach their higher potential.

Because, as Seth Godin wrote in a recent post on generosity, when you turn on a light for yourself you often make that same light available for others.

Where do you find your “home,” that place for safe creating? How does creating in that space allow you to turn on the light of insight and value for others?





Working your Fun

May 13, 2014

Because most people shoot pictures either as a hobby or just for the fun of capturing keepsakes of their lives, many assume that shooting pictures started out as, or continues to be, a pastime for me as well.

Although I absolutely love my work and the process of creating images, there is a distinct but indescribable line between enjoying a process in which you are paid to meet an objective and doing something simply for the enjoyment of doing it.

I used to get quite annoyed when someone would remark that I must not really love photography if I didn’t carry a camera with me everywhere and spend my free time (whatever free time is…) snapping pictures. I couldn’t adequately explain it because I couldn’t quite grasp how I could love creating images so much but not consider it my hobby.

But I gained greater clarity recently as I re-read Stuart Brown’s book, Play. Brown describes seven different play languages or personalities of which, one or two predominate in every person’s life. For me, the primary ways I play are through physical movement and exploration.

Understanding your play personality can help you understand why some activities should not be brought into your work life and vice versa.

As a “Kinesthete,” I have loved playing tennis since I picked up the game in my early teens. I richly enjoy bike riding, dancing, improv comedy, bowling, and ping pong. And, if I have any serious thinking to do I have to walk to process the information. Although competition can be a component of the activities I enjoy (the “Competitor” is one of the personalities Brown describes), it’s the pursuit of mastery and movement that allows my mind to rest and play, not winning.

Activities that lure my “Explorer” have been travel, writing, reading, playing music, cooking, conversation dinners, gardening, and sketching. In hindsight, all these endeavors have been for the pleasure of seeking deeper insights and ideas, invigorating my mind in a similar way that movement energizes my body.

Understanding how I play informs where I draw resources from to do more impactful work.

As a result of working in a creative field all of my career, I frequently get asked questions about how to turn one’s passion into a source of making a living. Just because you may love to cook doesn’t mean you have the skills – in addition to the ability to cook on a commercial scale – needed to run a restaurant.

If your play personality is the “Artist,” producing photographs to please a client’s requirements may destroy the very reason you pursued your love of art in the first place. It doesn’t have to. But understanding your motives and desires will help you achieve satisfaction rather than frustration with your heart’s desire. Also, to have a client hire — and pay you — for your services is a different animal than accumulating ‘likes’ and comments from friends on social media.

I encourage others – as I attempt to do myself – to pursue their heart’s desires in the process of doing the work they love, But, I’ve watched far too many folks that I care deeply for distrust their own heart, not realizing why their heart found delight in their love to begin with.

In what kind of activities of play do you find your heart and energy renewed?