Sharing our fears is not selfish – it’s essential.We can’t paper over the fear, the self-doubt, the anxiety, or it will tear a gaping hole in our creation at the very worst possible moment.

But giving in to our dragons – that is truly selfish.

Listening to them, believing them? There is no time left, dear people, no time.

As one of my stupendous Comfort Cafe members – sheros said about my last blog post (we sometimes discuss my blog posts in more private in-depth ways on the CC forums):

Speaking as just one person whose life has been forever changed as a result of your work, I WANT you to live this desire because I believe it will help me make  my OWN difference in the world.

I also know, speaking just for myself, that if I knew that the world needed my work like this – it would motivate me to get my work out there.

I read this and sat up straighter.

What would happen if you knew the world needed your work?

What would you do today?

What would I do?

How can we convince each other we already do know?

And if we can’t convince each other, how can we take action anyway?’

P.S.

Being called to listen to and live a big desire always sounds so very lofty and noble.

Actually doing it?

Doesn’t feel very lofty. Nor noble. It feels more sweaty. This is like building a rock wall, or framing a house or getting into shape. It’s hard. It’s slow. It’s manual.

It’s messy.

How much can I love the mess, keep turning away from the siren song of perfectionism, and into the mess of the unknown?

All the while believing the world needs this work and yet not getting attached to some big lofty oh my aren’t I hot shit!

So glad I can leave my rock wall building right now and go to my accountant now. That gives you an idea of how hard this is – I’m excited to visit my accountant.

Sheesh.

Links: When the Heart Waits, James Hollis;

In the heart of my new desire is a burning that I almost can’t bear.

But I will.

And around that heat, is an almost equal amount of raging fear.

Logically, I know, that’s how it works. Fear is commensurate with desire.

Joe Campbell called it the dragons at the gate.

Yesterday, the dragons showed up as irritability, scatteredness, lack of focus, and general high level of pissy-ness. Letting myself be distracted – even with digital distractions gone- letting my lack of focus push and pull me.

This morning started off better – I was blessed with a big dream, and while I didn’t have my notebook by my bed, instead of losing the dream to chastising myself, I stayed very quiet and worked with its various aspects in my imagination until I felt a degree of wholeness and grounding.

Then… downhill. Teenager / mom angst, more ex-husband stupidity, then a fight with Bob.

I felt myself wanting to collapse, to say, “Tomorrow will be a better day, wait to start until tomorrow.”

But that is the dragons whispering their lies.

They have kept me in their mouths for far too long, basting me in their slimy stories of I can’t, I’m not, no time, won’t work, you’ll starve, you can’t write anymore, you haven’t written in a book in so long, this desire of yours is absurd and you aren’t strong enough.

Shut the fuck up, dragons. Really. Just shut the fuck up.

I don’t want to talk with you, learn from you, or otherwise spend time with you. You do not have anything to tell me. I’m not going to try and drown you in empathy anymore. What I want is for you to get the hell out of my way.

I have a sword and I am no longer afraid to use it.

How badly do I want to live this desire and actually be of service, make a difference, do this thing? That’s my sword guys, so beware.

I’m taking a Digital Sabbatical for the month of August.

Also a coaching-talking-traveling-teaching sabbatical.

Picture me bouncing around my studio with happiness and glee… and fear and trembling.

Fear and trembling.

What am I afraid of?

The idea that is stalking me.

It’s huge, it’s lofty, it makes my stomach clench or rather, I clench my stomach when I think of it.

It does not make my bowels turn to water so hey, that’s a positive.

I know that for this idea to get some traction, to see if we can make something together, I need big swathes of time.

During a writing retreat in April (a gift from the amazing Fetzer Institute), I unplugged and I wrote the entire Satisfaction Finder in that week. So I know unplugging works for me.

Maybe Nicholas Carr is right?

From the comments on my Facebook announcement about unplugging, you might think I’m taming a lion while bungee jumping while debating climate change with Sarah Palin. As in, people are like, “Really! A whole month!”

Hence this post about how to do it, if you should care to join me.

But wait a cotton picking minute, isn’t blogging being on line?

A Digital Sabbatical – just like any form of creative and spiritual renewal – needs clear Conditions of Enoughness that you determine.

Or there are no Digital Sabbatical police.

What there are is your desires. Why do you want to unplug? What do you need?

To create COE’s for your Digital Sabbatical start by journaling for 5 minutes, keeping your hand moving, exploring the question: Why do I want to unplug?and What do I need?

Then look for what you want – what emerges as a few clear desires? – and set clear COE’s.

Remember the four elements of COE’s:

1. Name what is enough in simple facts.
2. Include a time element.
3. Ensure they’re dependent on ONLY YOU on an AVERAGE day.
4. Declare you are satisfied when your conditions are met—even if you don’t feel satisfied

Here’s my process edited for brevity’s sake:

I am unplugging because:

I need to come into honest relationship with this new idea. Only then can I ask, “Will this be of service to you?” I need space to hear my own heart first.

I need to stop distracting myself (by checking email, Comfort Cafe forums, Twitter) from this terrifying new idea. I need to rewire my brain to go deep.

I need to dive deep into thinking and learning – to have space to “the confidence to explore new forms of expression, to blaze difficult and demanding paths of thought, to venture into uncharted and sometimes hazardous territory” to quote Carr, without knowing what will come of it..

My Conditions of Enoughness for Unplugging:

From August 1st to September 1st.

No email – if you email my private address, you will get a lovely message telling  you I’m off line until September 1st and your message will be deleted. But wait, what if Oprah calls? I give my phone number in that email. Yes, gasp, you can call me if you need me. I might not answer but you can get hold of me. Remember life before email?

No Twitter. Susan, my Comfort Cafe Barista, will tweet on my behalf a tad, to keep Cafers reminds of the juicy stuff going on with Lisa Rough, creative coach, and our leader for August. I deleted Tweetdeck from dashboard so I won’t automatically go check.

No Facebook - except once a day if I have a blog post to briefly respond to.

Comfort Cafe – 30 minutes a day on the forums and content. Using a timer.

No clients, no calls, no appointments (other than personal), no radio shows, no retreats, no commitments.

That’s a lot of COE’s on what I won’t do. What will I do?

Morning ritual (yoga, meditation)

Write 2 hours on the idea

Blog post if it feels right. I blog to understand myself.  Part of what is happening to me is an unbranding of myself for myself (more on that to come). To help that be fully realized, I need to do it in community. I hope to do it in a way that is of service to you.  However, blogging can also lead me to try and make things neat, polished, known. If that starts to happen, I will stop blogging, for the day or the month. It must be real, honest, and serve my process.

Play~ art making, doodle romps in the woods, hanging with Lilly, Bob, gardening, making healthy nourishing meals, following my desires by asking, “What do I want?” enjoying my retreat with my Brain Trust later this the month, being coached by Michele, reading, thinking, being.

As I write this, my heart is beating fast and I am wishing I could go check email or Twitter. Instead… it’s time to dive in…

To the unknown.

As Pat Woodall, who taught painting to my writer’s in Taos last week, says, “Art happens in the unknown.”

Many good things, certainly all new things, do.

Here I go.

Wish me honesty, courage, and low expectations.

Links: The Satisfaction Finder, Nicholas Carr, Fetzer, Pat Woodall,

Our first full day.

Or was it a year?

Retreat time – out of ordinary time – has already erased wrinkles, eased shoulders away from ears, brought glimmers and small miracles to the page.

Carefully laid plans have been abandoned, classmates from 20 years ago rediscovered, critics met and turned into allies, and four delicious meals savored. Oh molten chocolate cake with fresh whipped cream, thank you for that one melting bite.

It’s raining and we are cocooned, sipping tea, napping in the living room, crying, hooting, dancing, doing Dance of Shiva, surrounded by a circle of heart torus energy.

10 women have returned from earlier retreats. I watch their familiar faces around the circle and feel such a sense of tender communion.

Of belonging.

Today, we talked to our writing project – to what wants to be written. My project had a lot to say, which is exciting, because I’m usually too busy concentrating on the group’s needs to do my own thing, and also a bit frightening because it wants a lot.

It wants to be a book. It asked me to “stop doubting the form.” I wanted to say, “Excuse me, there are too many books. We don’t need any more books. I’ve written 6. That is enough.”

But I did not say that. I listened. Respectfully. I will keep listening and writing.

Knowing I have the company of 28 other courageous writers who’ve got my back.

Sending you the scents of cottonwoods and sage, three coyotes, and that chocolate cake: retreat goodness. Wish you were here.