I tend to work hard, head down and focused for hours, until my eyes dry out or I look up from my computer and can’t focus on an object across the room. Working hard has worked well for me for a long time.
But now I’m becoming more intrigued by those times when I haven’t worked hard, when I’ve used a different approach.
Case in point, the this-is-completely-impossible approach.
The this-is-completely-impossible approach got me my first Broadway show. I went to an audition believing I wasn’t the caliber of dancer they needed. I was there to gain experience, find out what a professional audition was like, and have some fun gathering intel for my college buddies. I remember laughing so much that my cheeks hurt, and that audition landed me my first professional dancing gig. A total kick ass surprise.
Fling something out there and you just might land a whopper.
Sure, I had worked hard before that opportunity, but nothing about that audition felt like work. It was pure play.
Similar approaches rich with synchronicity, impossibility, luck, laughter and dare I say design brought certain people into my life when I needed them, moved me to the west when I was sick of the east coast concrete jungle, introduced me to yoga which I still study 16 years later, started me down this life coaching path.
What if the easy stuff is the way? What if my working so hard is a sign that I’m trying to control the outcome? What if by relaxing more, I can be more faith led, heart centered, and aware? What if the easy stuff is the subtle direction of life?
Matthew Sanford, a pioneer in adapting yoga for people with disabilities, says the inner body disguises itself with relief, with ease. If so, why is it such a pattern for so many of us to effort?