Over the past several monologues of Getting Work To Work, I’ve been sharing chapters from my forthcoming book. After each episode, I had a similar reaction: I need to get this book in front of people to get notes to improve it. But I kept dragging my feet. Why? Why is it easier to get feedback on a professional project than on a personal one? Do I lack the ability to separate myself from my work? Do I trust people to give me feedback that will allow the book to be the best it can be? In today’s monologue, I’m tackling these questions and sharing five tips for letting people into your personal project without losing your mind.

Before I started on the journey that is writing a book, I came up with the idea of The Curiosity Toolkit. Originally, it was going to be an online course. As the desire came and went to produce online courses as part of my business plan—I love teaching, but not in that medium—I archived the toolkit. As the structure and content of my book began to take shape, I realized the toolkit would fit nicely into the overall story structure. The Curiosity Toolkit is broken down into 14 chapters and uses our body, mind, and spirit as implements for our curiosity. I’ll read two chapters from this section in today’s episode: the introduction and soul.

How do you write about community when you feel like you’re living in hiding? When you don’t want to commit to another group of people because past wounds are still oozing and ugly? You accept where you are at and let the words flow. Could healing come from this moment? In today’s episode of Getting Work To Work, I’ll share a chapter about avoiding community from my forthcoming book, A Curious Journey: Learning to Co-exist in Solitude, Relationships, and Community. I’ve had my fair share of struggles with different communities over the past twenty years, but I’m not ready to be a hermit just yet.

Last week on Getting Work To Work, I shared about the book I’ve been writing and read from a chapter about silence. I received a positive response, which encouraged me to continue sharing. So this week, I’m moving to the next section of the book, which is about close relationships. The chapter I’ll be sharing is about human evolution, the changes we go through, and our expectations of others to never change. But before I do that, I want to let anyone listening know this: your art, your words, and your lives are important, so never stop sharing them with your loved ones.

On November 1st, 2021, I embarked on the journey of writing my first book. My process was simple: I wrote every day by hand in a notebook. Little by little, I captured my thoughts until I completed the first draft over a month later, on December 5th, 2021. I then started transcribing the words into Scrivener, and over the next month, the book started taking shape. Another month went by—a little bit of editing happened—but I slowed down. Then eventually, I stopped. Why was I so willing to write ferociously in the beginning? Why was I not afraid of the blank page but frightened of finishing? I got in my head. I let fear stop my progress. And I became yet another person to start a book and never finish it until a friend challenged me.

You ever have one of those moments when you knew you made the right decision, but then the outcome didn’t reveal itself when you wanted it to? Did I make the right decision? Is the presence of doubt a sign that I should make changes to my plan? Should I have stayed? When doubt takes over, managing all the questions in your mind and conversations with trusted advisors can be exhausting. Today on Getting Work To Work, I’m getting curious about doubt and its relationship to impatience, fear, and the creative process. We all feel it, sometimes change our minds because of it, and mostly view doubt as a negative experience. But what if doubt is actually a positive indicator of something else? That you are right where you need to be on your creative journey.

Today on the podcast, I want to talk about something important to every business: metrics. Specifically, the metrics, numbers, data, whatever you call it, that you chart to give you a glimpse of your business reality. When you work for a giant corporation, there is a wealth of data and statistics at your disposal. When you are a business of one, you still have a lot of metrics available to you, but which ones really matter? It can be hard to say—and depending on who you listen to—you might just pick the wrong one. In today’s episode of Getting Work To Work, I’m exploring a new way to approach metrics as I rebuild my business.

There always seems to be another excuse for “why not.” Why I can’t learn a new skill, explore a new technique, or start a new project? In the land of 1,000 excuses, the excuses keep me safe and secure from harm and change. But what happens when you leave the land of 1,000 excuses? That’s what briefly happened when I worked a retail job for five months. Not only was I learning new things, but I was actually surprised by what I was able to do. I rewrote old stories about my capabilities day by day. In today’s reflection, I’ll share how I left the land of 1,000 excuses and how it is not a one-time deal but a daily practice.

For the next month on Getting Work To Work, I will share several impactful experiences from working in a retail environment. Spending eight hours a day walking on concrete floors, helping customers, and making sure shelves are full, one tends to witness a multitude of experiences, both positive and negative. In today’s monologue, I’m unpacking one of my most valuable learning opportunities: shutting out the world and getting to work. I wouldn’t say I lacked focus before, but I was easily distracted by text messages, email, and social media, not to mention internal worries and concerns. I got a lot done by learning how to shut out the world and focus on the tasks at hand. Now, how to bring that back to my daily work where the temptations are all around?

A funny thing happens when I talk to people: I hear amazing stories. I’m not sure where this ability comes from, but I can trace it back to a young age when I would listen to my parents and sisters talk about what they were going through. This ability to listen is excellent, but I’ve also learned to listen within for the question I really want to ask. And that’s when the stories start pouring out. In this episode of Getting Work To Work, I’ll share a few ways to listen and five questions I love to ask that draw out stories from anyone. By the end of this episode, you will have the tools necessary to hear unbelievable stories of love, loss, success, and failure. You’ll never know how it will impact your creative future.

It’s been an interesting time of decline and I’m honestly enjoying it. I’m not talking about society, culture, or my business, but my artistic ambitions and connection with others. It all started when I read this phrase in a book by Eric Barker: “the right amount of weirdness.” I’m a weird person, I’ll admit it, but I’ve learned to hide it, so I could be accepted by as many people as possible. I’ve even shoved my weirdness aside when it demanded to be shared with others. What did I get for my conformity? Burnout and boredom with my creative pursuits. Fortunately, the way forward is clear to me: embrace the void so in obscurity my weirdness can thrive once again.

The first time I heard it, I took great offense. But I started to hear it more and more. From an older generation who remembers life as it once was and no longer is, of a singular expert worker who knew the answer to every question and the solution to any problem—even if no one said it aloud. “I guess this is what we get nowadays” is not an ideal way to start any engagement, but the perfect statement to reflect upon in today’s episode of Getting Work To Work. Yes, technology and convenience have changed the world of work, but they have also changed our expectations as customers. How are we to respond as workers?

Living a creative life isn’t always glamorous and Instagrammable. Sure, there are perks: a level of autonomy and creative freedom that doesn’t exist in other organizations. But what do you do when you are chasing a vision that you wholeheartedly believe in and have moments where you can no longer see your way forward (or even backward)? When the path is missing, do you keep flailing around looking for salvation or stop and wait for a change in perspective? So many questions as I stop and recognize that my own path has disappeared for the moment. I know where I want to go, but I think I need to continue groping around in the dark for a bit longer.

Why do you buy new gear? Is it to achieve your creative vision? To compete against other creatives in the marketplace? To be cool? To realize unknown ideas? There are a million reasons to buy new gear and many valid counterpoints for using what you have. Regardless of where you sit on the continuum between new equipment and using what you’ve got, injecting the occasional purchase of something new into your rig can be inspiring and spark new ideas. But how do you do that if you are short on cash or don’t know what would be the best use of your funds? I’m going to share a few ideas on today’s episode of Getting Work To Work.

Are you a team player or a lone wolf? For most of my career, I have worn the badge of the lone wolf. I wanted to show my strength and capability without needing anyone else. I would take offense when wise elders told me I needed to build a team around me: “I’ll show you!” Because of this mentality, I would take jobs I knew I could do alone. And even in moments working for larger companies, I was still a loner. I didn’t fully engage in the team around me, and eventually, I returned to what worked in the past. But what if the work that I needed to do was let go of old stories and accept what my future self is becoming?

How often do you fear what other people will think and say to you and about you? For as long as I can remember, I’ve always been afraid of the anonymous collective of imaginary haters waiting to pounce on me the second I put something out into the world. Because of that, I don’t like to ask others for feedback, and I often keep my voice silent on issues and topics important to me. Fortunately, I’m slowly learning how to respond to the actual voices of others — in front and around me. The more I do that, the stronger my connection to my creative soul, and my fear of “the others” loosens its grip on me.

How often do you get ads for proven systems that help you create more content faster? For me, it seems almost daily. A year ago, I would have loved a plan to help me do even more than I was attempting to do. But today, not so much. I want to do less, at a slower rate, so I can do the work that truly matters. In today’s episode of Getting Work To Work, I’m going to explore seven bundles of questions that will help you examine a downshift from fast to slow. It’s not going to be easy, but much like driving the speed limit, you usually get to the same place at the same time as those weaving in and out of traffic.