Field notes for first times

Don't we all want more of those?

I know it’s January, and this is cliché, but things feel especially new. Or rather, the old is hitting up against the new. Maybe both.

I started recording my book last week. I’ve never done anything like this before. Some lines take five tries, while others flow easily, and I shift between self-doubt and excitement.

First times feel like a fast-beating heart and over-stimulated nerves.

I want more first times. When I’m doing something for the first time, I belly flop into the experiences life has on offer (instead of staying stuck on a very comfortable and known cliff).

First times, by default, mean stepping into new spaces and crossing a threshold into the open unknown. This brings on all the feels - from ‘oh shit’ to ‘hell yeah’.

What often makes us nervous is worrying about doing it right, sucking at it, or being good enough (remember your first kiss?). Instead of resisting the self-doubt that creeps in for all of us first-timers (let’s normalize it), leaning into fun works wonders.

Because it is fun (once you get past feeling terrified). Fun anchors you in the moment, the kiss, the recording, the presentation, and shifts the energy. And if you can't make it fun, at least some of the time, maybe you’re in the wrong place, and this is an opportunity to reconnect to what has meaning and joy for you.

Creating is a courageous act of moving into the unknown. We have no idea how it will turn out when we begin, but we can trust our process. We get to fall in love with the process and have fun with it, embracing the frustrating lows (repeating lines that feels like ad infinitum) and the explosive highs (expressing the energy of my lived experience).

Creating anything is a full-flavor experience - Sriracha rooster sauce, salt and vinegar fries, and cotton candy. Why would we deny ourselves the opportunity to savor it all?

It’s only by showing up, creating (even when you think it sucks), sharing it, and creating again, that eventually, your work will have a delicate, mouth-watering flavor balance. You’ll know it when you taste it.

This requires experimentation, dedication, connection, and playfulness. If it’s not fun in some way, it will be really hard to keep it up. If what you’re creating isn't connected to your purpose, something deeply meaningful to you, it will be easy to put aside when creating consistently gets tough.

Recording this audiobook is meaningful to me. Welcome to the Creative Club is a deeply personal book, and everything in my body said, “You need to be the one to record it.”

I’ve never recorded an audiobook before (this is my first book), so it’s brand spanking new. It’s interesting to observe when I put pressure on myself to get it right, I stumble, and end up having to repeat the same sentences.

When I ease into it and tap into the idea that, “Wow, I get to do this!”, allowing myself to play and imagine how I might have felt in the moment I am narrating, it flows out of me.

When I catch myself in pressure cooker mode, I can stop, pause, and redirect. Sometimes, I need to get up, literally shake it off, and treat myself to a homemade frothy matcha tea or listen to a song that makes my hips sway. In other words, shift my energy.

Because how I experience creating the audiobook is my responsibility. I’m able to choose my response (at least after the knee-jerk inner critic pops up). Why not make it fun? Why not fuck around and create or cry trying? They're usually happy tears.

It feels good to create from the heart and gut; to answer the creative call like a clingy Lionel Richie (see? I’m having fun with this right now).

This is where I feel the old and the new collide. My old default survival strategy was to push hard, strive, throw my back, and everything I got into it. It stuck around because it worked. But it left me drained and unable to enjoy the moment since I’m trying to get to a place that feels ease-filled and fun. That’s such a trap. A bullshit lie that keeps that vigilant part of me alive.

If I don’t create it now, I won’t experience it later. But these inner voices or energies die hard. They fight for their survival. I can hear their death rattle. Instead of killing it, because it did serve me for years, I’m retiring it. I’ve bought it a timeshare in Florida and unlimited reserves of sunshine, margaritas, and Key Lime Pie.

It comes up when I’m recording. I have a tight 6-week deadline, and already three weeks in, I feel the pull to rush to get through it and to the other side, instead of trusting, easing into it, and enjoying the process. I’m working on it. Catching myself when that energy arises and sending it back to its lawn chair.

I’m cultivating a new practice: To enjoy the moment I’m in, releasing attachment to the outcome and the noxious belief that when I rush to get it all done, then I’ll be free to chill and enjoy. That’s just inner gaslighting.

The boarding pass to new expansive experiences is printed on the feeling of ease and fun right now - while recording an audiobook, crafting an innovation center's brand strategy and story, developing a brand strategy and story for a purpose-led entrepreneur, promoting my book, and co-creating a podcast.

Instead of worrying and stressing, I’m going to release, trust, enjoy, and be damn grateful I’m able to not only co-create these amazing projects but also my life experience. Top creator mode unlocked.

As Terence McKenna says, “Worry is betting against yourself.”

It’s a practice. A place to come from, not get to. Creating structure and scaffolding helps. I go to bed early, meditate and journal in the morning, work out four times a week, and importantly, pause when I catch myself in the default mode. Then, I choose to have fun with it and trust it’s all right here, happening now.

• What first times do you want to create?

• How do you want to be in the unknown?

• How might you make it fun?

Looking for more support to create what’s next (and new), pivot or expand, or craft your brand strategy and story? Book a chemistry call to explore fit and creative journeys. Creative ventures aren't built alone.

Keep creating,

Want a deeper dive into the life you want to create? Get your copy of ​Welcome to the Creative Club. Part memoir, part manifesto, part gentle rebellion, it’s an invitation to reclaim your creativity and make life your biggest art project. Already own it? Click ​here​.