Charles Gupton

Attitude

Returning to your “Home”

 

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?

Charles

 

Weight of the World

Although the weight of anxiety hung from his shoulders like a logging chain, he still paced from one elevator opening to the next as if the angst alone would cause one of the doors to open. We were on the third floor of the hospital, the Surgical Intensive Care Unit.

As the door finally parted and we entered together, I asked, “You have family here?”

The weight of anxiety can hang off you like a logging chain. 

With a nod, “My wife.”

“What is it?”

“Colitis. Third surgery. Not looking real good. Might have to take a lot of her intestine this time.”

“Kids?”

“One boy. Fourteen. Been real hard on him.”

“Hmmm…”

“Not sure what I’m going to do. I love my wife more than myself, I tell ya. Don’t know what I’m gonna do if I lose her. I don’t think I can go on.

By this time we were in the parking lot, heading to our cars to take care of things at home.

“Anything I can do?”

No, man. I don’t know, pray? Hey, just letting me talk helps. I keep all this bottled up and I don’t know what to do. Talkin’ ‘bout it helps. Thanks, man.”

We waved as he pulled out ahead of me into the traffic. Everyone seems to be carrying their own chain. Pulling some pain in their own world of hurt. 

Charles

Are You Willing to Ask?

How much do you want it? 

Whatever ‘it’ is, how often have you wanted something so badly that you could taste it? But for whatever reason you were afraid to ask?

Even though I’ve known forever that if I want something, I’ve got to ask for it or else I’ll get either the standard fare or nothing, I still have difficulty asking.

Most of the time we don’t ask it’s because we fear rejection. That fear can manifest itself in living with the status quo or, as I often do, try to do something on my own that I really need help with because I don’t want to be told “I can’t help” or worse, be thought of as inadequate because I asked.

Either way, that fear is causing you and me to achieve less than we’re capable of and enjoying the process less than we should because of it.

I had the good fortune to hear Jia Jiang speak at a Storyline conference recently. It was Jiang’s quest to face rejection and move into the resistance that the fear generates that helped me decide to choose the word ‘ask’ as one of my guiding words for 2013. You can read about Jiang’s ‘100 Days of Rejection’ and watch his TED talk if you want to be challenged to face your own versions of rejection.

What I’ve come to realize in trying to grow beyond my current abilities to have an impact through my work is that I need other people.

I can’t do what I believe I need to do without learning more, unlocking the access to people and places that I don’t have keys to, and collaborating with folks who have skills that I lack but are critical to delivering the quality of service that I expect.

To take ownership of my vision and see it through I must face rejection. Because what I’ve discovered is worse – far worse – than rejection is missing a significant opportunity because of fear.

Jia Jiang states it well.

My rejection therapy taught me that “the worst they can say is no” is actually not true. In fact, the worst they can say is “you didn’t even ask”. It implies I said ‘no’ to myself before others could reject me. If I have a good reason, it is my duty to step out of my own comfort zone to ask, no matter how difficult and impossible the request is.

Although I’ve focused on the process of ‘asking’ throughout this year, I have yet to find that it comes easy to me. Every time I ask for something that I’m uncomfortable with, my stomach churns. Every. Time.

But I am learning to ask anyway. Discomfort is a modest investment to make to get the abundant returns that most ‘asking’ allows for.

Becoming more cognizant of my own fear has heightened my consciousness of others’ as well. It has made me acutely aware of the self-imposed limitations that many of my friends and business associates are living under. I’ve come to understand that I can nudge them to increase their boldness but I cannot force them to grow. Their boundaries are what they are.

Often, the fear we recognize in others is a reflection of our own angst. I’m trying to use the anxiety that I encounter as a mirror to reflect my own walls of comfort.

The discomfort of trying and the possible disappointment that threatens when we consider trying are great impediments to making the effort. But as Seth Godin pointed out in a recent post, “For many people, apparently, it’s better to not get what you want than it is to be disappointed. The resistance is powerful indeed.”

Indeed.

How are you facing resistance and asking for what you need to manifest your vision? 

Charles

 

Holding the Focus Still

Holding focus on one spot will create a fire within seconds. Moving it around leaves you with a pile of sticks.

In my previous post I talked about the struggle of sticking with new behaviors and the need for accountability from people who have some skin in the game with you.

One of the primary behaviors I need to focus on is simply that. To focus.

With so many distractions and too many great – much less the really good – opportunities that come across our paths every day, staying on task with the matters that allow us to have an impact seems to be an almost insurmountable challenge – hey, did someone just ‘like’ my Facebook post???

I need to narrow my options and field of view.

I was having coffee with my friend – and very strategic thinker – Karin Wiberg sometime back and lamented my lack of headway in a number of areas of my life. She calmly and thoughtfully started asking me about the various activities and commitments I was enmeshed in. And how each was contributing to my overarching goals. 

Since then I have continued to question each activity before I commit. There have been several times I’ve cut an event that I later regretted as part of learning where the boundaries need to be set. As a victim of ‘iwanna know-itus’ and FOMO (Fear of Missing Out), it’s been, and continues to be, a very difficult process of being deliberate in my choices. 

The image that comes to mind when I think of focus is of a magnifying glass being held over a stack of kindling. If the glass is held firmly in place but out of focus you’ll have no fire. Conversely, if it is held in sharp focus but moved constantly, you’re still gonna get no flame. But harness the power of the sun through that glass on one spot for a few seconds my friend and you’ve got yourself some heat you can cook with.

Charles

 

Power of Following Up

Thirty years ago as I was trying to get a significant break into the editorial market, I would visit New York a couple of times a year and schlep my portfolio around from one magazine to the next. Knowing that I was one in a million photographers rapping on the picture editors’ doors each week, I figured I needed to do something to keep myself as close to top of mind as possible.

At the time, I was hard pressed  to afford more than two trips a year, but I knew I had persistence, a telephone, and the postal system at my disposal. So I used them.

I picked a small number of picture editors that I particularly wanted to work with, and every month or two I sent a post card or left a phone message reminding them that I was interested in the opportunity to work with them.

Although it took a few years, I eventually developed a working relationship with most of the editors on my list. I remember one in particular saying when she phoned to assign me a story: “I bet you’re thinking, ‘I thought she’d never call me!’, but I did call because of your tenacity.” I nearly dropped the phone.

The lesson stuck with me.

It doesn’t seam like such a big idea. But the power of consistent, gentle follow up to let someone know you’re interested in working together can have a powerful impact.

Charles