“When would I go on vacation?"

This is a concern for so many that I’ve talked to. Time and attention are our most valuable resources, and most of weeks they are “taken” from us. Vacation is the one or two weeks we get them back. We apply ourselves in the way we want to, invest our time how we desire, and give our attention to things that matter to us. 

Pursuing the work you were meant to do on the weekends, at night in the basement, or during the week when the kids are in bed, will not compete with your vacation time—the getaway for you to take care of yourself. 

Vocation is not in competition with your vacation. They both are an investment of your time and attention in a way that you want. If not, you’re either not really taking vacation (and it’s really a work trip masquerading as vacation) or you’re not truly pursuing your vocation (and someone has convinced you your job is a substitute). 

Vacation is often the necessary departure we need to cope with a life that is imbalanced and unhealthy. Your unique work or call can also serve this purpose. It balances us. It gives our life meaning. It deeply feeds and energizes us.

And keep in mind that because vacation is the one chance to invest our attention the way we want, it’s an opportunity for learning and growing (while relaxing) . . . in ways that enrich our vocation and purpose. You can finally read that book, tinker on that website, playfully take risks with that new tool, or meditate that shelved idea. 

Pursuing your purpose doesn’t hinder your vacation. It may enhance it.

“Won’t I lose my job?”

Hopefully!

I don’t want you to get fired. Nor do I think you should try to get away with being negligent. 

Let’s be clear about what your job is. It's the layer upon layer of tasks, meetings, forms, timesheets, reports, and more meetings. Critical? Yes. But it’s also the easiest way to hide from the work you are suppose to be doing. Your job fulfills a role and warms a seat; it shows up to be seen being busy and to satisfy the higher ups. 

Your work, on the other hand, is what brings value. Your work sets you apart. Your work makes clearing the calendar, not filling it, a high priority. Your work looks for problems to solve. We need you to do your work, to keep your work, to excel at your work. 

Your call may not be your work, but your call has a much better chance of manifesting within your work than it does influencing your job.

“Where are the others?”

Two ways to answers this. 

Where are others pursuing their call? & Where are the others called to something similar? 

The former provides a certain comfort knowing we’re not alone; the latter builds community, a tribe. 

To the first: They’re everywhere . . . but not in high numbers. Some are tinkering in their basement late at night. Others are cooking up something delicious before the sun rises. And some are using vacation time to head to the mountains for a vocation-related retreat. They can be found in churches, bleachers, and PTO meetings. Anywhere, really. 

I use to the think if I looked for passion, I’d find someone following their muse. Not true. Marketing has usually beat me to them. They’ve been sold something to sate the energy for change. Now I believe if I follow obsession—specifically to improving a task, a skill, a process, a system—I have found someone listening to their daemon. 

Look for obsession. Be someone that is obsessed. You’ll find others.

To the second: Tribes are built horizontally, not vertically. I like what Seth Godin does with soft and hard connections. A hard connection is official. It’s the result of a budget, usually announced, and spread widely at first. A soft connection is directed, often person to person, and the result of compulsion not an advertising budget.  Soft, tribal connections spread, in the end, much faster because they have exponential growth. But more importantly than speed, the connection is deeper because it’s meaningful to the sender. And trust is built in. 

You will find your tribe by sharing. Refine your message. Share person to person. Your tribe will come. 

“How do I make money doing it?”

Making money following your calling is a bit like signing a record deal at a dive bar. It’s been done, but there are so many more reasons to be playing at an open mic. 

That being said, it’s still possible. 

Here are some pointers:

1. Don’t worry about the "make money" part first. The fist question is always about continuity; the second questions is about value. Is this work/project/piece consistent with the deeper stream of my life, and does it offer measurable value to the world? 

2. Don’t quit your job (but expect to eventually). Obsess about your objective, skill, or goal enough that you do it on weekends, in the evenings, and on days off. Get better at it. Fail often. But don't pay a lot to get better and fail—your biggest cost for both should be looking honestly in the mirror. 

3. Be the best in the world at one thing. Specialize to a fault. But don’t go looking for a niche; it’s in you, in your story and your experience. Attend closely to your call. Meditate on it day and night. Your specialization will come; your niche will materialize. And then further refine it until it’s razor sharp. Become an expert. 

4. Surround yourself with people that envision the world within which your call makes sense. They won’t pay you for your work, but together you all will be an embodied reminder that shortcuts don’t work, unfocused investments are a waste of time, and wishful thinking is ultimately depressing. Speak truthfully to each other. Encourage each other. 

5. Never stop learning. Ever. But not aimlessly. Learn to be better; learn what is needed; learn more skills that surround your call. Learn what people associated to your call value, but more importantly, learn what they need. 

6. And lastly, don’t pay anyone for instructions on how to make money following your muse. Trust me here, if you Google “How to make money doing X”, the only hits you’ll get are going to end up costing you . . . and making zilch. Plus, ten people just searched that exact phrase ten minutes ago.  

“Can I do it on the weekends?”

Here’s an important thing to remember about vocation: it doesn’t take time off. Of course, you can and should retreat, vacation, and do whatever it is you need to do to recharge and stay healthy. But your purpose doesn’t travel to Europe or go on a cruise. It works all day, every day, nonstop. 

The very idea of a “weekend” is foreign to your calling. Assuming there is a week for work and an ending to the week for non-work is an artificial distinction that presupposes “work” as something dreadful, from which we need (at least) a two day break. 

Calling is different. It’s like the unemployed person renting the studio above you: it never stops stomping around, making noise, causing ruckus. All day it moves about and sometimes in the middle of the night. Until it’s employed!

Should we take time off? Of course, but vocation refuses to be relegated to the tail-end of a week. If we try, it’ll wake us up before our alarm clock on a Wednesday and demand our attention. 

[All Wordpress readers: If you read my blog on your Wordpress app or receive email updates through your Wordpress account, I encourage you to visit my new website, ryanfasani.com, and subscribe to my blog feed there. I will close shop on my Wordpress blog at the end of July.]

Avoidance Leaves Clues

How do I know if I’m avoiding the work I’m suppose to be doing? 

Avoidance works best in secret, but it leaves clues all over the place. Instead of looking for it, look for it’s effects: half-finished projects, partial commitments, and abandoned ideas. 

A would-be writer, for example, may have a writing corner with a special writing chair and a bohemian writing lamp that reminds them of their grandpa’s offices desk. It’s all set up. Has been for years. And how many crummy first drafts have they written? Zero. That’s how avoidance works. The clues are all there. 

A would-be entrepreneur, for example, may have the business license paperwork, the lawyer's number in her phone, the url bought, and the financing all figured out…four years ago.  Clues are everywhere, even though avoidance is nowhere to be found. 

Don’t look for avoidance; look for clues.  

[All Wordpress readers: If you read my blog on your Wordpress app or receive email updates through your Wordpress account, I encourage you to visit my new website, ryanfasani.com, and subscribe to my blog feed there. I will close shop on my Wordpress blog at the end of July.]

Steer Us Back

You can avoid it your whole life. Elders and spiritual leaders use to directed you toward it; now our leaders direct us toward more pressing—and less meaningful!—issues of the day. 

You can numb yourself and not feel it your whole life. There use to be ceremonious occasions to step away from the mundane; now we have the technology and access to substances that perpetually numb us from reality. 

You can be distracted your whole life. Not long ago, our communities discouraged distraction because they needed us engaged and productive; now we call community the people that distract us from even seeing that we are distracted. 

You can avoid, be numb to, and get distracted from your unique call . . . your whole life. 

It’s not the so-called leaders creating buzz, online web of friends, or communities of distraction that are going to steer us back to our path-of-purpose. It is often one mentor, one friend, or one small group that is willing to speak truthfully to us that will make the difference. 

Who is the one? 
Who cuts through the distraction? 
Who names the numbing? 

Take them to coffee. It might be the way back to you. 

[All Wordpress readers: If you read my blog on your Wordpress app or receive email updates through your Wordpress account, I encourage you to visit my new website, ryanfasani.com, and subscribe to my blog feed there. I will close shop on my Wordpress blog at the end of July.]

Acorn Planted Within

Your calling is not so much a ‘place’ or ‘thing’ you arrive at. You don’t see it on the horizon, slowly but surely approaching it as it comes into focus. 

It’s also not a ‘mountain' you summit. You don’t put in the work and eventually conquer it. 

That said, it’s also not found on the couch. You don’t discover it by sitting idly and waiting. 

It’s neither here (on the couch) or there (on the horizon). It’s not next to me or way up there (on the mountain top). 

It’s more like an acorn planted within. The totality of the oak is contained in it’s small, fragile shell, but it must be nourished and attended to. Slowly, day by day, with proper attention, it begins to grow and express itself. 

Someday it will be a mighty oak. 

[h/t James Hillman]

Down, Beneath Ego

Finding purpose is not all about ascent. We don’t climb the ladder of self-knowing until we arrive at a higher consciousness, a clearer understanding of our way in the world.

Finding your unique work in the world is not the result of manifesting your desires. It’s not the result of higher order awareness.

We must go down.Descend.

Finding our true work is not the skill but behind the skill, not seen in the awards but underneath the awards and accolades, and not in your interests but often in the shadow of your interests. Your work is beneath your ego and deeper than knowing your Enneagram Type or Myers Briggs.

When we descend far enough we don’t find more isolation and more independence; rather, we find that all good work, all calling is fundamentally in service to the whole.

Until our journey descends, we are merely following the pursuits of ego.

Down is where we find our soul. And there we flesh out how our unique work gives life to others.

Make Us Human

We are all communicators, no matter our line of work or stage of life. We are all storytellers, too. 

We don’t all need to major in English or Creative Writing to communicate, but we do need practice. And feedback.

Don’t settle for needless chatter. Or mindless gibberish. Or too much slang. Or tweets.

Wield words that are meaningful. Purposeful. Powerful. Beautiful.Tell good stories. Over and over again. 

Words and stories literally make us human. 

Vocational Empathy

Storytelling is for the purpose of empathy and connection. Film is one form of storytelling and ought to evoke feelings of empathy, which is why Jared Callahan said without hesitation, "All film making is . . . for the purpose of building empathy.”

But empathy is not a mathematic equation; it has no formula or template. Empathy is the gift of holding space without judgement.

Empathy doesn’t just walk in someone else’s shoes all the while holding contempt, criticism, or dismissiveness. Empathy suspends prejudice and preliminary conclusions; it holds the door to surprise and revelation wide open. And in that space (that is so easy to fill with our assumptions), we can feel with others that are different than us.

Insofar as vocation is what our life is preparing us for, it too is storytelling. It tells our story, the story of those that helped get us here, and the daily story that continues to be written each morning we awake. Our unique work in the world is in part for the purpose of building empathy.

Law enforcement.
Ministry.
Agriculture.
Teaching.
Jurisprudence.

I can’t think of one line of work that doesn’t include at its core an element of empathy building. 

We're all storytellers. So too should we be empathy builders. 

(Thank you, Jared, for the inspiration.)

Life’s “Spray Zone”

Sympathy is not empathy. It stands at a distance, is often only symbolically sensitive, and reifies the distance between the sympathizer and the sympathized.

Pity is not empathy. It is a comparative measure. Pity is the emotional residual of feeling good about oneself and one’s situation. Pity is fleeting and often degrading.

Charity is not empathy. Charity masquerades as the offspring of empathy but isn’t even in the family. Charity does not necessarily correlate with feelings at all and is often disempowering for the recipient.

Empathy is more vulnerable than sympathy, less selfish than pity, and unlike charity, it's grounded in the power of shared feelings.

Empathy removes pretense, enters into the reality of an other, and finds intersections between disparate worlds. Empathy is not artificial connection, but instead it’s the willingness to sit in the “spray zone” of someone’s life long enough to feel what it’s like to be drenched.

Empathy & Stories

Storytelling offers the opportunity to empathize. Good story telling insists on it. The difference is that a good story “resources” the listener to overcome a fear of vulnerability. 

Good storytelling is not information transmission. Instead, it's personal invitation. It draws a listener toward a subject without the protective shell of sympathy. 

"Protective shell of sympathy"? 

Sympathy is often precisely a way of not empathizing. It comes in many forms. For example, the fix-it tool, which is the tool that immediately focuses on solutions. Or, the feel-better tool, which is the effort to cheer someone up. Or, the silver-lining tool, which is the impulse to point out what’s good in a bad situation. Or, the comparison tool, which holds one experience next to another that is worse. These are all ways of extending care from a distance. (Often they do more damage.)

Good story telling draws a listener close and assists in fostering a connection—first with the subject and second with the part in the listener that intersects the subject’s story. The means by which this connection happens is empathy.

Empathy doesn’t try to solve an other’s hardship. Empathy enters it, holds it, and values the connection. Empathy feels it. Sympathy stands at a distance, looks for solutions, and avoids connection. Sympathy is guarded. 

On the surface they can look the same, but the difference is most evident in the fruit they bear. Empathy bears the fruit of connection; sympathy the fruit of disconnection.

Good storytelling insists on entering an other's story, feeling it, and connecting.

All Art is an Invitation

Art is the expression of human creativity. It comes in as many forms as there are creative people. 

Art can also describe a quality of something that is creative. “That’s a very artistic book design,” for example. 

And then there is art as the ideal of a thing. Not the thing itself (eg a painting or pottery) and not merely describing a trait of another thing (eg an artsy flair on window coverings), but rather, the embodiment of the best form of a thing. 

Art as craft comes to mind. For example, the art of sushi making or the art of metal fabrication. 

Art as honed dexterity and skill comes to mind, too. For example, the art of figure skating or high diving. 

Art as awareness of human need and social dynamics also comes to mind. For example, the art of hospitality or the art of palliative care. 

Whether pure creative expression, craft, physical skill, or social awareness, all art is a type of storytelling. All art is an engagement with the world around us that has a within it an implicit invitation for others to see through these eyes, these hands, this body. 

Whether it’s the many years that goes into mastering the perfect spiral pass or oil painting technique, all art says, “Watch closely and you will know better who I am.”

Film & Empathy

Jared Callahan of People People Media said in passing a couple months ago, “All film making is just story telling and story telling is for the purpose of building empathy.” 

I’ve wrestled with that for weeks. Not whether it’s true or not, but that it’s more true than I’m comfortable with. 

For the next few days, I’ll accept Jared’s comment as a prompt to look at story telling, vocation, and empathy as three strands in the larger tapestry of each person’s journey. 

For now, consider this: Empathy has no formula, no script, or no template. Empathy is the gift of holding space while withholding judgement. You should try it on yourself for a day.

Orienting & Grounding

When we dive into a deep well of ideas…

When the sparks are firing…

When the inspiration is flowing…

Are we merely being manic or have we tapped into a supernatural creative source? How do we know the difference?

The difference is that the genuine, grounded, creative flow thrives on slowing down. It’s the result of diving into deeper waters, digging in deeper soil. The manic flow thrives in the fast lane, fueled by speed, which is a substitute for intelligibility and substance. Manic energy fabricates a false self.

True creativity speeds up as we slow down, dive deeper, and contemplate longer.

True creativity is orienting, grounding, and self-revelatory; it introduces us to who we are.

Try slowing down. You'll get your answer.

Avoiding Your Talent

We fear something or someone that can hurt us. (Our wellbeing is threatened.)

We fear things that are completely our of our control. (We are vulnerable.)

We also fear the unknown. (What we have information on, we can learn, and what we can learn, we can at least prepare for.) 

This, however, may be a surprise: we fear having talent.

What do we do with it?
Where would we go?
How would we live?

Threatened, vulnerable, and unprepared peril in comparison to the nagging, daily reminder that we weren’t being true to ourself?

Are you purposefully avoiding what you're good at? 

Might Have to do Something

What’s your biggest fear?

The classic list comes to mind: snakes, sharks, clowns. Or, are yours more morbid: drowning, car accident, getting shot.

Come to find out, two of the most common fears are public speaking and failure. And there’s a more recent one, likely as a result of the saturation of social media and its “influencers”, which is the fear of being insignificant.

I’d like to add one to the list that is higher, by my estimation, than all the others: the fear we might actually have a purpose, a calling, or a reason for being here. 

If we do . . .

Then we might have to do something about it. And that’s scary!

“Never Going Back”

“I’ll never go back” is a good sign that you’ll probably go back. Back where? Exactly! In the very declaration that you’ll never go back, there is a type of internalized  “backness” that is behind the statement itself. Back has a referent.

Back to addiction.Back to old habits.Back to a former career.Back to a codependent relationship.Back to self-centeredness.Back to prejudice.

"Never going back" doesn’t need a declaration . . . the new path you’re on is all the publicity you need.

"Never going back" doesn’t even make sense . . . there is no back. It’s eviscerated, gone, no more—it doesn’t exist as a referable reality.

Once you’ve truly moved forward, even the need to mention an alternative vanishes.

The Threat is the Future

There are very few things my football coach and philosophy professor agreed on. One of them is this: find the threat, and you’ll find the future.

The biggest threat of an opposing team's offense is not so much their fastest player, their star quarterback, or their shifty running back. Rather, the biggest threat are the gaps in our defense that will be exposed during the game. The future success of the team is to be aware enough of our weaknesses to acknowledge them and focus on their development.

The threat to our ideologies is not necessarily opposing ideologies. Ideologies are easily fortified. Rather, the biggest threat is the potential discomfort of uncovering how tenuous (or prejudice, narrow, circumstantial, blind, etc.) our own ideology is. The future work worth doing is entering that discomfort and reckoning with the unhealth.

Whether it's football or life, our future work is to find our own weaknesses—not that group’s or those people's problems—and begin by stepping into the discomfort.