Tell Us The Truth What are you really supposed to tell us in your college essay? About that perfect cup of bitter coffee you made your mom, every morning, so she could have the energy to go to her job at the factory? Certainly not the obvious? Those everyday truths you live by and with? How you whisper a wish to each spoonful of sugar you put in her second, evening coffee, a wish that her life could get just a tad sweeter, and you can get just a little more sleep? Actually, yes, exactly that. Did you think the obvious was just too obvious? Sometimes the obvious is amazing. But no one puts it into words. "It takes all kinds to make a world," an old, old farmer once told me (yes, I know farmers). This after we watched a woman climb out of a Jaguar convertible at his vegetable stand, and then haggle him down from the 50 cents he was asking for his cucumbers. It's imperfect, she insisted, her perfect red-red lips somehow never coming unpursed. That's what happens when food is organic, he told her gently, shrugging. She offered a quarter. He took it. It takes all kinds to make a world. Duh? The Obvious has resonance. When you (finally) put it into words, everyone feels ownership over that observation. Like it's theirs. The obvious is said in a particular voice (yours) from a particular vantage point (yours). But it carries universal resonance (ours). Another example: My petite 11-month old son is just learning to cruise on this atrocious orange walker we found on our block. Yesterday, a man large in frame and big in bone passed him, looked down fondly and noted: They are little when they are little! The baby probably measured halfway up this neighbor's shin, and that's with bed hair, and was about the size of the man's calf. But here the baby is, all 17 pounds of him, steamrolling down the sidewalk, eye to eye with puppy dogs. They are little when they are little. Well, duh? And then there is the comedian's prerogative: Or Continue Reading …
State of Mind
Your college essay and more in 10 minutes
Is this yet another "improve my life in 10-minutes" BS pitch? No. We don't play with your minutes here. But we want you to get the most out of your time. So-- do you have 10 minutes to spare? (If you're reading this, you probably have 10 minutes. Admit it. Stop checking your Facebook Feed.) (Everyone has 10 minutes.) But the problem is: what's the most important thing to do-- right now? How should you spend those precious minutes? Here's our recommendations. Determine what you need, first. Need to open up and calm down? Check out this guided meditation from Tara Brach. (It's 10 minutes-ish. Thanks for your generous meditations, Tara Brach!) Need to work out on the sly? Check out this "Quiet Workout." (It's 10 minutes-ish. Modify as needed. Thanks for these original quickies, pop sugar!) Need to say something about something? We recommend-- assess your energy level, consider options 1 and 2 above, hydrate, and then... Freewrite Get your writing instrument/implement of choice: Sit your butt down or stand your butt up. (Don't have a standing desk? DIY with a crate placed on top of a table, or by working on a kitchen counter). Set a timer for 10 minutes. (See? We're precise!) And write about what makes you mad. Without stopping. (Thank you, writing guru Don Murray). Or try this writing prompt, from Ted Ed: A genie grants you three tiny wishes. What are they? (Thank you, TED. You are so full of useful randomness. Want more prompts?) Help, I really don't have 10-minutes! The multi-taskers version. Even though multi-tasking has been proven as neurological BS (You're uni-tasking, in quick succession, and with crappy outcomes), sometimes we need to layer up. Especially if we really only have 10 minutes. In that case we suggest: Do the Tara Brach meditation while you are on the toilet or taking a shower. Do the workout while returning a phone call to someone who will understand if you are out of Continue Reading …
Begin your college essay anywhere
How to begin writing your college essay? Sometimes it feels harder than bench pressing 3x your weight. Sometimes it feels harder than plucking hairs with your non-dominant hand. Sometimes it feels harder than spelling French words correctly. But it doesn't have to. Faced with the challenge of how to begin, just begin. That is, go around the challenge by refusing to see it as a challenge. Overwrite the fear, inertia, or blank feeling by starting right there, using it as your prompt. Freewrite from this moment Caffeinate yourself until you see double, turn down the sound of babies crying and your neighbor's weird fetish for Frank Sinatra, turn down the sound of siblings having the same old fight, parents barking, friends texting....and start there. I mean, you could start with any of the things listed above, the particulars of your life. Or you could start with the emotion-- or lack of emotion-- that facing an essay brings up. For example, you might set a timer, take a few deep breaths and start: "At this moment, I am staring at the page, well aware that what I put on this page is supposed to be super talented, attractive, and make me sound as Good as Friday. To handle this amount of pressure and anxiety, I am on my third Starbucks Peppermint Latte, which I got with my last dollar for the week, and now I add to my list of crappy things that I might not be able to sleep for a month from the amount of stimulant coursing through my blood, and I notice all the other people working nearby-- I'm in the library-- and that they all seem to be typing freely and easily, so I have to believe they are updating their social media accounts, not writing an application essay. I just noticed that is the longest sentence ever..." Will you win the Pulitzer for this content? Likely not, but if you do, please mention that this blog helped you get going. That said, who cares? The way you get over not knowing where to begin is by Continue Reading …
Powerful People Pause
The "fail" pause and the perfect pause I start almost every essay support session asking students to read-aloud their college essay drafts, and for most it's like asking them to read the omens in my baby's dirty diapers. I can't count the number of times my students lower their eyes and barrel through the read-aloud, with nary a pause. Well, that's not true: they take one pause at the beginning, the "fail" pause, and the last and only time they'll inhale for the duration of their read. A puree of words, no connection to the audience (me), no pacing to measure impact or resonance. I can hardly hear them, and they can hardly hear themselves. They zoom through the read, like the Dalai Lama will condemn them to Samsara, or Obama exile them from the US, if they take too long or stumble on a sentence. (That's why DL and BO are sitting up there in the photo looking so compassionate, right guys?). Lose me or hold me? By contrast, my Whole Heart Connection teacher, Thea Elijah, can hold a whole room with her pause. Nobody snickers, squirms, or gets nervous. No one checks their phone or doubts her credibility. The silence is not awkward. It is very very very full. Everyone just waits for her to begin speaking again. How come? Two kinds of pauses Thea describes it this way: there are two kinds of pauses. There is the pause where the speaker disconnects from the room (the audience), goes inside, and gets lost in their own stuff. They have "lost touch with the field" (i.e. the rest of us. Hellooooooooo, come back!). But then there is the very different kind of pause where the speaker stays connected to the room (the audience) but stops speaking long enough to check-in inside. Like an energetic, mighty octopus, the speaker is still completely aware and part of "the needs and the nature of field" (i.e. the rest of us). The first kind of pause is the lost cause. You can make a come-back from it, but basically you've given your audience a Continue Reading …
Sometimes No is Yes: The Rejection
Give It Up for Rejection Raise your hand if you love rejection, y'all! How about a letter, formally letting you know you've been rejected? How about rejection from that one college you really thought was a safety, or that other one that held all your elaborate dreams in its gated grip? Seth Godin to the Rescue This week, I went on a Seth Godin blog binge. I recommend it: he takes unlikely, creative positions on the most common topics, and I needed some unlikely thinking, because changing baby diapers gets predictable. Luckily, I found Seth's very very smart, tart and brief post on how there is no sense in reading between the lines of a rejection letter because there is nothing there. Usually when we get rejected, our inner critic goes on a criticism carnival. Tears apart the language for truth. Or we snuff out its snide remarks with a vice of choice. Or we assume, dungeon door clanging shut, that the rest of our lives will have all the worth of soiled diapers. A Tale of No and Yes Let me tell you a story. Once upon a time there was a girl-- no, not me, but related to me. She was told by her (prestigious, infamous independent) high school's headmaster, who was an Intellectual Giant and known well by adcoms, that she could piss on a piece of paper and get into her then dream school, XX College. Well, she didn't take him literally (she had common sense), but she did apply with the goal in mind that if piss alone could get her in, surely prose and a nice academic track record would more than guarantee her spot. Wrong. The rejection letter hurt worse than bladder surgery, to push the metaphor. Not only did she not get admitted to XX PISS-ME-THERE College, but she didn't get into any of the other schools on her list either-- reach or safety, realistic or aspirational. Except one. We'll call it: School WTF? A school she'd added as after-thought. A school in which she had no interest; a school which, had she had any choice, would Continue Reading …
Face Your Inner Teenager
What's your Inner Teenager telling you? Even the most docile teenager, which I'd say I was (though my mom might put it otherwise), has a reactive streak, the impulse to reject or explode or "take things personally" that seems to come from nowhere. It's the reactivity of the teen that seems to get under the skin of their grown-ups. And the grown-up's inner teenager jumps into the ring. Especially when there is an important, high-stakes task to be completed (college essay, anyone?) for which the full-grown adult feels ultimately responsible and maybe overly-invested. Add to that the teen's fluctuation between grandiose self-importance (feeling the center of the universe-- because individuation sometimes requires laser focus) and tough plummets in self-esteem (feeling like the outcast of the universe--when someone's comment sent you headlong into self-loathing) and you have a cocktail for colossal arguments. The crux of the problem is with our own blind spots Turns out the crux of the problems might lie not with the teen, but in getting their full-grown adults (guardians, parents, care-givers) to embrace their inner teenager-- or rather, the inner truths that having a teenager around can force us to face. Some of the interpersonal conflict teens are blamed for might actually come from adults needing to be more introspective and honest about our feelings about our lives. In other words, you teens are smart, and onto something we full-grown adults just might need some of. Our discoveries could and should happen in tandem. Cutting-edge Neuroscience Says So! Luckily, smart neuroscientists and psychologists like Dr. Dan Siegel are doing some radical investigation of the teen brain. And what we're learning not only redeems (yup!) some of these behaviors, but let's us know that the reason for the adults getting so triggered lies as much with their own sense of self as with the teen's ___________ (fill in the blank-- insolence, mood swings, brashness, Continue Reading …