My Ah-ha Moment After Write or Die or How to Fall Wildly in Love with Your Life

I held a Write or Die with 7 people yesterday in Las Vegas, and later, on the plane ride home, I had an idea that made me super happy.

I was thinking about the group, about how interesting each of the participants was, about how amazing their stories were, and about how earnestly they wanted to show up in their life, for themselves and others. I was thinking about how their bodies and minds needed them to tell their stories.

I had told the group yesterday that, to me, they were all little kids with paper and crayons, and whatever they showed me was going to be a miracle and delight of creation. I wasn’t there to judge. I was there to make sure they were the ones doing the drawing, not some wicked voice in their head. (I have a finely tuned bullshit meter and so I’m generally able to see what’s you and what’s not you pretty easily. And there’s a relief for people to feel seen, to be called out when they aren’t being themselves.)

I said this to clear some of the fear out of the room before everyone started writing and sharing their work with others. Sharing your truth can be so scary!

Isn’t that funny?!

Why is it so hard for us to tell our stories, honestly, earnestly, with the belief that we will be heard?

These are the kinds of thoughts I had on the plane back to the Bay Area, and then something occurred to me: people generally come to me for coaching because they are uncomfortable and want a way out of their discomfort. When people come to Write or Die they want OUT of the present moment. They want to find a way to process or share their past so they can feel okay in their skin. They want anything but to be exactly who they are.

Believe me, I get this. I’m right there with them. Maybe all of this is projection on my part!

The problem is the present moment is the way in—to story, to freedom, to life, to love.

I had also been listening to Lisa Wimberger’s book on neurosculpting, and she talked about how engaging the prefrontal cortex, the part that has to do with noticing specific, tangible details in your world is a way to help deal with anxiety, a way to counter the right side of your brain which may have you so deep in story that you’ve lost a sense of groundedness and safety.

So I developed a new writing exercise I’m going to do in Write or Die and, aside from Pam Cordano, you’re the first people I’m telling about it. I would love if you decided to share your results with me!

Here’s the exercise:

For five minutes, write about this moment if it ended up later being the best moment of your life. What I mean is, what if a second after this moment, for example, you became paralyzed? You’d spend your life looking at this moment, the moment before you went paralyzed, amazing over the fact that you used to be able to touch your own face, walk, feed yourself, drive to work? You would try to remember each detail of your life before you lost so much. You would try to remember this moment because it had become a treasure.

Or imagine if in the moment after this moment a helicopter airdropped a box with your name on it and when you opened it, there was a million dollars inside with a note saying, I love you. Enjoy your life. You would keep rehearsing the moment before your life changed, the moment before your life changed: this moment. It would all be so magical. Every detail would be significant because they were part of was the moment before your life changed.

If you were a filmmaker, the scene before the scene of the money dropping would be highlighted, slowed, every detail important. As a filmmaker, you’d only be able to capture what was in the world, not on thoughts, so if you find yourself starting to write about what’s inside your head, stop and get back to describing what is real in a touch, taste, feel, smell kind of way. (I know, I know, thoughts feel real, but don’t bug me about this—it’s just an idea, but it’s my idea, and I’m giving it to you for free.)

Write from that place, from the knowing that this moment, this moment you are in now, is one of the best moments of your life. Notice everything. Marvel that you can think, that you have a brain that works. That you can move your hands. Get it all down. See it all. What do you hear? What do you feel? It’s all a miracle. Notice. Notice. Notice. Hurry. Get it all down.

You have five minutes to see one of the best moments of your life.

Go.