I’ve turned up.
This is often the bigger battle.
Twyla Tharp describes her morning ritual as a choreographer: out early each morning to hail a taxi to take her to a gym for a two hour workout: the ritual is not the gym, she says. It’s hailing the cab.
We need to build the rituals which get us to where we need to turn up.
These can be fun to shape and form, and then, on a day when we don’t feel so eager, they help us to turn up.
It reminds me of why, every morning, I go through the same rituals which take me into the same space, with the chair, the journal and pen, and the books with which I begin every day.
And when I am away from home, I’ll look for a way to replicate as many elements of this as possible.
I love dreams and big pictures of the future and what can be, but I know there’s graft to be done to arrive at these.
Erwin McManus tellingly writes, ‘Sometimes we forget that dreams require change. If you are not willing to change, you are not willing to venture to where your dreams can come true. People who do not change in the end become people without dreams.’*
Everyday, I have to turn up to change, moving from a small world – “I-in-me,” as Otto Scharmer would describe it – to a bigger world: “I-in-it.” Then I find myself being pulled forward, into the world of others – “I-in-you” – and into action: “I-in-now,” Seth Godin calls this zooming:
‘Zooming is about stretching your limits without threatening your foundations. It’s about handling new ideas, new opportunities, and new challenges without triggering the change avoidance reflex. You already zoom everyday … doing the same things as usual only different.’**