What’s it like to wear a bespoke suit, a suit custom-made to fit me and only me? I want a life like that. I want a plan, a pattern, a path that takes into consideration all the weird, unruly, shocking, steadfast little and big things that combine to shape me. But how?

“The word bespoke itself is derived from the verb to bespeak, to ‘speak for something,’ in the specialized meaning ‘to give order for it to be made.’”
~ Wikipedia entry for Bespoke

What plan speaks for me? Cookie-cutter solutions need not apply. If I can’t make it fit me, if I can’t make it mine, all mine, then forget it. I’ve scoured office supply stores, art supply stores, read books and websites by goal gurus and earnest cheerleaders of every stripe and found only an elite few who make the cut, including these two…

For the past two weeks I’ve been pulling together a strategic planner for 2010, guided by what artist and business school graduate (a combination that thrills me) Lisa Sonora Beam does for herself every year. Although I’m still creating my plan, the power inherent in the thoroughly self-customized system has already taken me so far further along my way than I’d imagined possible that I’m almost scared to continue. The zoom is palpable. For more about this intensely customizable system, see Lisa Sonora Beam’s “Goal Setting for Creatives: My 2010 Strategic Planner.”

One of the zoomy surprises to burst forth from my 2010 Strategic Planner process is that a friend offered to sponsor my fees for an e-course that seems perfectly designed to help me further custom-make my life: Susannah Conway’s Unravelling: Ways of Seeing My Self, which combines photography, journaling, comrades, Susannah’s strong heart, and the promise of deep self-connection.

The primary goal of both systems is to put me in touch with myself in a way that encourages invention, supports forgiveness and acceptance, and fills the silence with my voice, even if I choose to be quiet. What could be more fittingly comfortable than that?

Related reading: Book | The Creative Entrepreneur, by Lisa Sonora Beam

Flickr photo: (untitled), by bird_flew

We’re also products of different cultures. (I’ve often thought of charging admission to some of our entertaining conversations: the optimistic, anything-is-possible American (me) exchanging views with the pessimistic Cold-War-era German from West Berlin.)

To cut through all of our (various, hilarious, absurd, genuine) objections to any proposed plan for having fun together, we’ve invented our own version of the blind date.

Here’s an example of how it works:

• He: “Gracie, what are you doing on Saturday night?”
• Me: (Shrugging) “Nothing, I guess. What’s up?”
  He: “Then we’ll leave around 7:45 – right after dinner.”
• Me: (Perking up) “Cool. What should I wear?”
  He: “Nice, but not fancy. And dress warmly.”
• Me: “You do that on purpose, don’t you? Just to torture me with too little information.”
• He: (Folds his arms and smirks)
• Me: “Oh, well. What do I care? If it’s a blind date, you’re paying, right?”
• He: “Yup.”

Our rules are:

• The person who invites pays (this minimizes objections from the invitee).
• The person who invites aims to please the invitee, even if unexpectedly so.
• The person who invites is not required to tell any more than is strictly necessary.
• The person who accepts the invitation doesn’t complain.

We’ve both been wowed and charmed as the “blind” person in the equation, escorted to experiences we’d never have chosen – or even agreed to – had we known in advance what they’d be. And we’ve both had the gleeful pleasure of the visionary escort, crafting experiences that delight us both.

Like traditional blind dates, our version opens up possibilities. Unlike the traditional version – thankfully – we know we’ll be spending time with someone we already love.

This version of blind dating works with all kinds of relationships, not only romantic ones. Evolve it for your own best use. And report back here, would you? I’d love to know how things go.

Flickr photo: Blind Light, by Anthony Gormley, on ricoeurian’s Flickr page as within the fog…

Related reading: Funny Practice, How to Mingle at a Party | Tips for the Timid

What gives you a hit of joy? Perhaps it’s watching a three-minute digital slide show of your five-year-old. Or reading today’s post from a blogger who’s guaranteed to make you laugh. Or unscrewing the lid of a vial of lavender oil.

Consider the physical nature of rejuvenation and pander to your senses. Even if your daily work is physical, a switch to a different form of physical wonderment can revive.

Experiment and keep track of what works best to rejuvenate, reconnect, and resuscitate you. Make it easy to renew your WOWs.

Here’s a sampling from my list:

• k.d. lang singing Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah”
• Pamela Hochschartner Viola’s photography on A Small Work A Day, Flickr, and Trunkt
• Pulitzer Prize-winner Dave Barry’s funny columns
• Jo Dunning’s broadcasts (certain ones), like from May 7th on The World Puja Network (sign in to access the archives), and her Abundance Project series (on her own site)

Flickr photo: burning sky, by Per Ola Wiburg (Powi)

Related reading: The Reset Button, Herbal Pharmacy

Grace Kerina’s Five Rules for Life

1. Cover your mouth when you sneeze. When we commit on a cellular level to taking responsibility for our own waste, in all the ways the concept implies, we become saviours. We foster intimacy, we allow future generations to live on, and we keep our neighbours from breathing up our germs.
2. Feed on what you’re hungry for. Our souls crave focus, not excess. We hunger for the vortex. We yearn toward topics, joys, and passions that tumble us into a world of deeper meaning. Let passion lead. Follow.
3. Tap your own veins. Quit waiting to be told. We embody infinities and multitudes. We know. When bombarded with the swirl of options, pressures, and rules that swarm and ebb all around us all the time, be still. Close your eyes. Tap into the deep wisdom flowing through your veins. Be big on the inside.
4. Look up. Attitude makes a difference. To find stability, look up, not down. Take to heart Henry David Thoreau’s encouragment and let the wide, breathtaking view lead: “If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost; that is where they should be. Now put foundations under them.”
5. Play anyway. Play even if no one approves. Shrug off the armour. Turn the clock toward the wall. Jettison pretence. Frolic. Cackle. Drool. Jump. Why? Pure joy. Connection. Power beyond the merely mortal.

Flickr photo: Decaying tulips (5), by tanakawho.

Related reading: Interview | Carrie McCarthy, Interview | Paulina Bustamante

You probably have some form of a job title, even if you’re self-employed. Service Associate. Librarian. Sous Chef. Chemical Engineer. Dog Walker. Writer. Personal Coach. Waiter. Is your current title an expression of the truest you? Do you swell with pride when you say it out loud? If not, it’s time for a new calling card, one that tells the full story, the true story of you.

Consider Gordon MacKenzie, who spent his career at Hallmark Cards. At one point his official business title was Creative Paradox. No, I’m not suggesting you launch a campaign at work to have your title officially changed (unless the idea appeals to you). MacKenzie’s example is that he knew the power of a title that sparked interest, that led from his truth. Such titles compel us forward, show us the way. They provide guidance the way a compass keeps us on a true path.

For a long time I embraced the title of Secret Ingredient. I loved helping others shine, supporting them behind the scenes while they basked in the limelight. As my understanding of myself shifted, so did my job title. Now I hold the titles of Sensitivity Champion, Creativity Enzyme, and Imaginary Friend, among others.

What pithy title describes you and the value you bring to the world? There are no rules.

Consider having business cards made to proclaim your expertise. Hand them out. Own your true path.

Flickr Photo brúixola, by art es anna.

Related reading: Curious Curators, Joy Detective, Hidden Lives Revealed.

What’s more important: sending in the application for the job you really want, or creating a system for tracking the applications you’ve been sending out? Well, they’re both important, but if having the job of your dreams makes your heart sing, send in the application first.

When I keep the focus on effectiveness, I quickly realize that efficiency often acts as a refuge, a way to avoid the discomfort of pushing into new territory. Effective actions tend to put me into contact with the world at large. My heart beats faster. I must face and master my fears. And it’s absolutely worth it. Effectiveness is forward movement.

What will move you unequivocally forward, toward the place you most want to be? Pick up the phone and make the call. Call again if you don’t connect the first time. Take the class. Ask the person you admire for advice. Call the counsellor you felt drawn to at the seminar and make an appointment. Show up. Finish the project. Take the vacation. Graduate. Write the article and mail it out. Attend the conference. Order the business cards. Pick them up. Hand them out. Submit your application to art school. Submit your art to the gallery. Start. Finish.

We sense the difference between effectiveness and efficiency. Think of your project or dream. Ask yourself what’s the most effective, forward-moving action you can take. You already know.

Flickr photo: Divers at Green Lake Beach, 1936, from the Seattle Municipal Archives.

Related reading: Hero Practice, Books | Joyful Self-Employment

“No problem can be solved
from the level of consciousness
that created it.”

~ Albert Einstein

I take much of life to heart, feeling and sensing my way through the days, aiming for the miraculous place just before feeling fully spills over into feeling too much.

Cue the circus music.

What do I do when this balancing act, for whatever reason, can’t be sustained and I spill into the net, landing with my arms folded across my chest and a scowl on my face, peeved, frustrated, or sad.

The best and most immediate restorer of balance I know is a jolt of joy, delivered in the form of a list of things that make me happy. I go to my room, close the door, pull out my bliss reminders list and start reading. The list is pages and pages long – long enough to suck me into its vortex. No matter what the circumstance, reading the list never fails to shift my mood toward the positive. I feel my body lighten, and my mood along with it. The bliss list has the power of a catapult, and I’m airborne again in no time.

The blue dress and matching coat I had as a kid. Maps. Musée Fesch in Ajaccio. Campfires. Practicing whistling in the tent during the sleet storm. Monkey puzzle trees. Pamela’s gluten-free brownies mix. Illustrated journals.

Try it for yourself. Use a format you’re drawn to. Write the list into a blank book, for example, or keep the list on a computer and print it out. As you list joys, make them as personal as possible. Mine your past. Catalogue the joys of all your senses. Get specific. Keep adding to the list. Come back to it often for a lift.

“It’s like being trapped in an elevator with my own music.”

“He’s been a pawn in my little recovery game.”

“Everything’s very in-between the trapezes right now.”

“Is dog hair your sole medium?”

Pluck them from the conversation that gives them contextual meaning and some phrases can go on to live long, meaningful lives on their own. Capturing these phrases in a little blank book so they can be remembered later creates a repository of hilarity triggers which, when browsed through later, provide a great way to lighten up and evoke memories of good times.

After fifteen years, the first entries in my family’s out-of-context quote book, each just a short string of words, are as evocative as scent, conjuring whole scenes frozen at the moment of capture. It helps that the speaker’s name, the date, and the location have been noted for each quote, but that’s an embellishment on the basics. The main thing is to grab the pen before the phrasing fades.

Some people seem to get more frequent quote book billing than others – pithy folk who can turn a phrase with skill. During the time I was housemates with a friend and her five-year-old daughter, years ago, I had to keep the quote book close by at all times because they were naturals at silliness, at glibly producing the capturable quote. Visitors to our house got in the habit of walking in through the front door and saying, “Hi. What’s new in the quote book?”

And I may have married my husband for his quote-book-packing quick-witted propensity:

Me: “I think in another life I would be a mechanic.”
He: “I would be a ladder. Or a toupee.”

Or this one:

Me: “Did you iron that shirt?”
He: “Well, I sat on it, and I was hot.”

Additions to the out-of-context quote book need not be limited to the purely hilarious or to things spoken by people you know. It’s all about whatever sparks your interest to the point of wanting to remember it later. Overheard bits of conversation can be included (I overheard one man say to another at the Vancouver airport: “I never told you this because I was kind of embarrassed, but I named my dog after your dog”). And mangled English translations from menus appear in our book with some frequency (”Chicken interlarded with bacon – à la pheasant”).

Kept on the coffee table or in the kitchen – wherever the comedy lurks – the out-of-context quote book makes remembering easy. And later, browsing through the book alone or with others wrings lots of laughter mileage out of that first spark of wit.