Wouldn’t you rather do amazing things with your life? You can. And one of the ways to make sure you do is to preserve your sanity by not acting like a rat, and doing the things that will set you free. How? Genius Time.

Genius Time, in a nutshell, is about building time that’s for you and your most important things into your schedule.

Want to make stuff this cool? Genius time, baby. Genius time.

Sounds simple, huh? Hardly.

I’ve seen this idea talked about most often by “Creatives” — folks who do creative work for other people, like designers, artists, etc. If Creatives aren’t careful, they can spend all their time and energy working on client projects, and not have any juice left over for their own business.

But it’s not just for Creatives. Everyone needs genius time.

What is Genius Time?

Genius time, as I’m defining it, is time for you to focus on what you personally need to focus on more than anything. When talking about your work, it’s often when you work ON your business instead of just IN your business. When talking about your health, it’s when you focus on the thing you need most, whether it’s stress-reducing meditation, or getting to the gym consistently. When talking about relationships, it’s when you carve out the time to do that which matters most, whether that’s working out issues that have come up between you, or spending “quality time” in whatever way you do.

The idea behind Genius Time is also concordant with Pareto’s Principle, aka the 80/20 rule. Genius time is often when you focus on that 20% of whatever it is, because if you don’t, the whole thing falls apart.

How much Genius Time do you need?

Start with a half-hour a day, if you have to. Heavens, you should be able to set aside at least that much, but if an hour is too scary to contemplate in the beginning, start with half. Eventually, you’ll want to work your way up to two hours, at least.

Most people these days, when confronted with the idea of finding more time in their days, tend to either shrug and dismiss the possibility, or get vehement about why that’s impossible. “My days are crammed as they are!”, or, “I get up at 4am and go to bed at 11pm as it is!” To you, I say:

Get a grip, or be gripped.

Because if you can’t find a half an hour, you’re seriously gripped. Life’s got you by the short-n-curlies… but do you want to know how you got there?

It’s your own darn fault.

Sorry to be the one to break it to you, but you haven’t taken responsibility for your actions if you’re playing the victim about your schedule. You, and you alone, have chosen to live the way you’re living. And that means that you can change it.

I hope that no one reading this is in that situation, because I hope you’ve moved beyond that phase of your life where you perceive life as happening to you rather than through you… but if you are, get some help. Now. Start here.

Got your life back? Good; let’s continue.

How to get your Genius Time

First, you’ve got to carve in a block of time. By “carve in”, I mean that you’ve got to build it into your schedule as if it’s completely indispensible (which it is), and make it inviolable. (The corollary, as in, “carve out”, is how most people think about it. As if life is full, and you need to squeeze something else in. Basic rule: Don’t be “most people.”) Otherwise, you’ll run the risk of pushing it aside when the seemingly urgent matters of life want to intrude.

It’s just how financial experts talk about the “Pay yourself first” rule: if you don’t, the money disappears into a crack somewhere. It’s inevitable.

So, Genius Time has to be a top priority.

Next rule: no distractions. Turn off the phone, close TweetDeck (under no circumstances should Genius Time and twitter time ever—EVER—coincide), and lock the door if you have to. For the next half-hour/hour/two hours, the rest of the world can wait.

Now, on to the meat.

What do you do in Genius Time?

Short answer: whatever you have to.

It could be:

• meditating
• writing blog posts
• researching your next career move
• studying
• walking through the park (sometimes it’s easier to get your head clear when in motion)
• practicing your intuition skills
• kicking your feet up on your desk and daydreaming of how you want to spend the next half of your life
• anything else that’s critical to your well-being, or the well-being of your career

Obviously, that last one is a pretty broad definition, but that’s the idea; do what you have to do to be the person you need to be.

And if you don’t take Genius Time?

In the words of my high school English teacher, Mr. Engfeldt…

Don't be a mental weiner dog.

… you’ll become a mental weiner dog. Seriously. Don’t tempt fate like that.

Images by phill.d and hellvet2000.

© Adam for Adam Kayce, 2009. | Permalink | 14 comments

Now, don’t be afraid of fear—that’s a scary thought!—just learn to recognize it for what it is.

And now, on with our story.

The search for inner peace led John to a group of other like-minded people who also saught the same thing, all rallied around a teacher who demonstrated some very successful techniques to help his students find and experience that peace. As the group grew, the teacher realized that he must establish a “method”, so others could teach the work as well. After all, what good would it do unless a means could be identified? And so, this method became concretized, shared, and taught to many more seekers of peace.

John, who believed the methods and the community around it to be the best thing he’d ever seen, became a teacher of this system. He taught others the methods, used them himself, and his life got better.

But then, a shadow began to grow…

As the organization grew, John started to see a resistance to new input and ideas. The results of what was once an “open spirit of exploration” began to become doctrine. Legends began to permeate the group, telling of the brilliance—nay, the infallibility—of the leaders, and the miracles they performed on a regular basis. The method became dogma, and those who challenged it were outcast.

John began to become disillusioned with his teacher, the methods, and the organization. He saw brilliant, dedicated teachers ostracized because they spoke out in opposition to the leaders. He watched as the methods became stale, outdated, and both inflexible in their approach and limited in their application and efficacy.

And so, John left.

History has a way of repeating itself, doesn’t it?

After a time of introspection and idea gathering, John decided to follow a different life-long passion, changing professions and moving on with his life. He trained, he learned, and he worked, and he was happy.

Eventually he came across another community, steeped in the pursuit of the same passions as he, and once again he found himself feeling at home. But as John grew, developed his talents, and learned more, he began to hear stories of disgruntled members within the community that seemed to be having experiences that mirrored his past. John began to question his involvement in the community after seeing the same kinds of rigidity and fear creeping into the organization.

Too bad I’m not Mother Goose.

Now, wouldn’t it be nice if this were a fairy tale, with a beginning and an end, neatly tied up in a bow of clear-cut morals and easily deciphered lessons? Maybe it would. But life isn’t a storybook fable, and rarely are decisions as easy to make as they might appear. Black-and-white quickly turns to grey in the real world.

Like yours, the ending of John’s story isn’t yet written. He can’t see the end, doesn’t know how things will turn out, and can’t rely on a crystal ball, fairy godmother, or all-seeing wizard. He, like you, has to make decisions based on heart, head, and gut.

But he, like you, can choose how to respond to life’s events proactively rather than reactively, based on principles and decisions about how he wants to live his life.

Looking at the experiences of his life, and the examples of those leaders John sees around him, he comes to a few conclusions:

• when you become afraid to challenge the status quo, you stagnate.
• if you aren’t willing to sacrifice your conclusions in favor of new evidence that contradicts it, then you’ve stopped learning.
• resist the temptation to label those who express deviation as deviants.
• there is strength and safety in numbers… but there is also a greater propensity for delusion (aka “groupthink.”)

Charles Du Bos had it right when he said,

The important thing is this: To be ready at any moment to sacrifice what you are for what you could become.

Because when your status, income, and success depend on you being what you’ve built, it’s scary to let it go. That fear drives irrational decisions.

However, another choice exists.

Look around you at examples of personal excellence. They may be a little less obvious, and thus a bit harder to find, than the grand commercial successes that so often get the publicity, but they’re there. They aren’t always mutually exclusive, of course, but the popular vote doesn’t always reward excellence (at least not right away).

Of course, these measures are largely subjective, because your criteria for excellence may be different than the next person’s, but since we’re talking about John, here , we’ll share the traits he feels are indicative of personal integrity:

• humility. (Confucius said, “Humility is the solid foundation of all virtues.”)
• willingness to abandon what you’ve known for what you know is right.
• an enduring quest for greater growth and understanding.

Rabindranath Tagore said it well:

Truth comes as conqueror only to those who have lost the art of receiving it as friend.

Because when you realize that your status, income, and success can also truly depend on what you stand for, it doesn’t make change any less scary, but it can make it liberating.

How to avoid the crumbling of your own empire

There’s a great analogy that I’m sure you’ve heard, which likens people to buses: Each of us has a number of personalities, emotions, and voices within us. What makes the difference in how we live is which one we let control us, i.e. “drive our bus.”

I said in the beginning that I believe fear to be the driving force behind every bad decision we ever make. That doesn’t make fear “bad”, of course; it’s a necessary part of who we are, and most of us wouldn’t survive long without it. Just don’t let it drive the bus when it shouldn’t be.

When fear drives the bus, we lose perspective. Input we should be open to gets shut out, and we get rigid and inflexible in our thinking, if not more.

So, when something comes along that gets your knickers up in knots, ask yourself, “Is it my fear that is creating this situation, or is this a genuine threat?” And if you’re having a hard time figuring it out, see if you can discern what your reasoning is telling you is at stake. If you “give in”, what does it mean for you? Loss of face? More work? Or something real?

Growing something—anything—is a process that will take you and your beliefs to task more than you’d expect. But, if you can remain true to the values you started with, even in the face of your greatest demons, you can far exceed your wildest expectations, and be proud of what you accomplish.

Image by h.koppdelaney.

© Adam for Adam Kayce, 2009. | Permalink | 4 comments

Mmm... steaming hot ramen.

What I enjoyed most about the movie, without giving away too many details, was the main ingredient that Brittany Murphey’s character, Abby, learned to infuse into her ramen that made it special: spirit. Because in the end, this was not a movie about ramen, or romance. It was about finding one’s place in the world by focusing on the how more than the what.

“How” comes from within

The fact that Abby learned to make a great bowl of ramen is secondary to what it required of her to do it. She got the recipe right long before she was able to make a meal that was worthy of being served to her customers, because she was taught that making soup isn’t just about getting a bunch of ingredients and assembling them. It’s about heart. Unless your soup has spirit, it hasn’t got anything.

It’s a lesson that, I believe, resonates for many of us. We spend a lot of time reading books about parachutes or real-life stories of people searching for their “perfect” jobs. We’re taught to believe that if we just find the right career, we’ll be mystically satiated, and we’ll labor away blissfully for the rest of our lives. The emphasis here is placed on the initial discovery, and the promise is that once that discovery is made, the rest is downhill. (If you think about it, this ideal is promulgated in many arenas, from relationships to parenting to politics.)

The Ramen Girl teaches something else, though. It teaches that “getting the recipe right” is only the first step. In order to truly do something well, to transform it from ordinary to exceptional—and to transform yourself in the process—requires an internal contribution that goes beyond meticulousness and hard work. You have to invest yourself in what you’re doing. You have to be willing to be vulnerable, to give of yourself to your patrons through your work. It makes work personal, intimate, and unique.

The Divine is in the Details

As a webdesigner, I can churn out code until the cows come home. I can tweak settings, configure plugins, and customize design details until my fingers turn blue. And in so doing, I can be a good webdesigner, and serve my clients well. I’ll even feel the satisfaction of a job well done. But, is that all I should hope for?

If you want to feel like you’re doing your best work, the scorecard that matters is not the one that can be judged by what shows up on the screen, or on the paper, or in the product. Satisfaction—the bone-deep, spirit-lifting, existential experience of meaning—is found in the value and the interaction of your work and its target. In other words, it’s what your work creates in the experience of another that comes back to you as satisfaction. If it matters, then it matters, no matter what you’re called, from carpenter to coach to CEO.

It’s in the pursuit of that intangible satisfaction that work finds its meaning, we find our purpose, and the path of mastery is made clear. And, at every step of the way, it’s up to you to choose the giving road, the road of excellence, the road of interaction and connection, with your soul laid bare. It may not be easy, but the best things in life rarely come without incredible effort.

Image by bass_nroll.

© Adam for Adam Kayce, 2009. | Permalink | 8 comments

If you aren\'t seeing the embedded video, click here to view.

But there’s a big difference between writing for the heck of it, and actually expecting to get some positive return out of it. There’s also a big difference between writing a five-post boom-and-crash, and blogging for a lifetime.

Hoping to get some help both of those points, I recently watched an excellent video by Mr. 4HWW, Tim Ferriss, and I thought it was fantastic. He calls it “How to Blog without Killing Yourself”, and says, “one of my favorite presentations I’ve given in 2009.” After watching it, and taking notes of the highlights for myself, I’d have to agree.

Now, for anyone reading this who’s anti-Tim, just let me say this: On one hand, that’s cool. Like who you want, and don’t who you don’t. I’ve got no beef with you. But, if you’re thinking to leave me a trollish comment because you’ve got an issue with him, then answer this: Who are you? What have you done with your life so far? How many people have you impacted? Smile on your brother, y’know?

What I’ve written below is my own personal commentary on the notes I took from the above talk. He covers a lot more than what I took notes on, which is why I recommend you watch it – my takeaways are going to be different from your takeaways, by necessity and design. My hope in adding my notes is that it’ll help add some context to quotes taken entirely out of context, and lend some insight from my own personal perspective, for what it’s worth (and hey, if you’ve read this far, then maybe it’s worth enough to you to keep reading…).

On fun:

• It has to be fun, or your readers will not have fun.
• If you’re not having fun, it will come across very clearly in what you write.

Darn tootin’. That’s precisely why I moved my blog to adamkayce.com, and why I’m writing about this. I dig Tim’s stuff; his approach to sucking the marrow out of life is, I believe, admirable. I like his perspective, and how he’s not afraid to go against convention.

And, I also believe that fun has to be paramount in your life. If it’s not, what are you doing it for? You only get one shot at life, and it’s your choice completely if you want to spend it miserably or enjoy every last minute of it.

On fun and blogging:

• Think big, but play often. Take fun seriously!
• Blogging can be your own self-imposed hell if you let it. Most people do that; they follow rules from people who are not paying them to blog.
• Don’t take advice from people you don’t want to emulate.
• My blog is not a source of stress for me. It has been a huge, hugely positive thing in my life, and I plan to keep on doing it for a long, long time.

This spoke to me greatly, having gone through what I’ve been through in blogging so far. I got so wrapped up in what the “experts” were saying needed to be done, that I lost sight of what it’s all about: joy.

I love to write. I’ve been writing for fun since I was kid. I used to write stories while the tv was on, because I loved having paper in front of me, and I loved being able to express in words what was going on in my head. I think it’s only natural that English was always one of my top subjects in school (I even won awards for it), my college degree is in writing, and I’m writing this right now.

Writing is cathartic. It’s ecstatic. It’s a gateway to a fuller expression of who you are, and it grows you as you go, like Seth said in the video up top. And yet, if you’re not careful about the reasons why you do what you do, it most certainly can become a prison, and a self-inflicted torture device.

My advice: Get really clear on why you’re blogging. Chances are, there are going to be a lot of reasons, both business and personal. Just make sure there’s joy in it for you, and that the foundation of the reasons is a personal one. Otherwise, you’ll run out of gas, out of juice, and it’ll sputter and die.

On negative comments, trolls, hate mail, etc.:

• There’s enough negativity in the world; you have no obligation to put it on your blog.
  [He says he treats it like his house; if you come to a cocktail party and start cussing him out, you're gone! And you're not coming back.]

This one took me a while to grasp.

When I had my first troll appear on my first blog, I didn’t really know what to do. Unfortunately, I tried—too quickly—to address all the issues the person had with what I had wrote, taking it way too personally, and way too far. I was coming from a mindset that wanted people to like me, and that liking = agreement. And that if I could please them, everything would work out fine.

Big, big mistake.

One of the greatest lessons I ever learned from marketing champion Sean D’Souza was that—no matter what you do—you’re never going to please everyone… and that’s a good thing. If you are, you’re probably either being too bland, or too afraid to say what you really think. And that doesn’t attract people to your cause, or help you to spread your message. (Great example: Tim Ferriss. The people who love him spread the word about him as they praise him, and the people who hate him spread the word about him as they denounce him. Either way, he gets more press. It’s the classic Law of Attraction at work: What you give attention to, grows.)

On multiple topic blogs:

• If you run a niched blog, the every once-in-a-while stray post is fine.
• Otherwise, you want to make it clear by the branding of your site that it’s fairly broad. (The blog of Tim Ferriss: Experiments in Lifestyle Design.)

Hallelujah.

In case you aren’t familiar with Tim’s philosophies, he’s a big proponent of examining the status quo and seeing if so-called “conventional wisdom” has any wisdom in it at all. Because you aren’t obligated to follow the herd, unless you choose to… and many times, you’ll get the best results if you don’t.

When it comes to blogging, the advice you’ll often read is that you should create only niched content, specific to a certain audience, and never stray from that course. Keep it tight, keep it focused, and keep everything else out of it.

But there are plenty of examples of people who have defied that convention, and had spectacular success because of it. Tim is one. Christine Kane is another.

So, am I saying you should write about everything, conventions be dammed? No, because it depends. It depends on your goals, your attention span, your passion, and the kind of person you are. What’s right for one isn’t necessarily right for another.

The takeaway here is that there’s not one right way – and many of the self-proclaimed masters would love to sell you on the idea that it’s their way or the highway. And that’s just not true. You have to take a lot of factors into account, and make the choice that’s right for you.

© Adam for Adam Kayce, 2009. | Permalink | 5 comments

I’ve had it in mind to write a personal blog for some time. I’ve got a business, an ex-business, a Facebook page, and a Twitter page, so what’s up with this blog?

Good question.

To be honest, I’m not sure where this is going to go. What I do know is that I’ve been writing “for” something other than the joy of writing for so long, I’m beginning to forget what it’s like. I’ve been thirsting for a venue that doesn’t have to “produce”, in the sense of generating business for me and/or my company. I’ve seen friends like this write for no obvious reason other than the joy of expression, and it appeals to me.

And, after years in the limelight (I used to be an “esteemed faculty member” of a seminar company/spiritual movement), I’m wanting a place to let my hair down — well, if I had any left, that is. I’ve grown very, very tired of censoring myself, doing what’s socially appropriate, and toeing the party line for the purposes of acceptance. So, with all proper respect, eff that. No more.

I’m not saying that I’m here to be a crabby bastard… just that I could be, if the mood struck. Most of the time, I prefer not to be. Life’s just better when I’m happy and joyful. But, from time to time, I might get my back-end outta whack about this or that, and who knows, I just might write about it, in the name of being therapeutic and all.

So, with no promises, and no more excuses, here I am.

Image by Tyson Cecka via cc on Flickr.

© Adam for Adam Kayce, 2009. | Permalink | No comment

A conversation got started at Dawud Miracle’s site not too long ago, about “What Would You Rather Have, Clients or Customers?”

The ensuing conversation completely reframed the way I view people who come in and out of my business. Isn’t it just semantics? Hardly.

The way we orient to an idea will shape how we view it, the identity we give it, and the actions we take in relationship to it.

Practically speaking, the way you orient to your people will shape how you view them (broken, or just confused? helpless, or temporarily stuck? clueless, or just slightly off-target for the moment?). And that will radically influence how you treat them, what you expect from them, and the actions you take concerning them.

In the beginning, before all of this became conscious, I thought of people as customers: people who would buy what I had to offer (think: early jobs in retail sales). Then, it became clients: people who I served and cared for (think: years as a healer). And now, it has evolved into patrons: people whose causes I champion.

The dictionary defines patron as, “One that supports, protects, or champions someone or something, such as an institution, event, or cause; a sponsor or benefactor: a patron of the arts.”

What if you saw the people who came in and out of your business as patrons? Benefactors? Supporters of your visions and ideals? After all, they’re listening to what you have to say, signing up for your offers, and buying your stuff (you hope).

Here’s what the dictionary says about champion: “An ardent defender or supporter of a cause or another person.”

Is that you? Are you championing a cause? Supporting a certain population? Upholding and encouraging a set of shared values? And does that cause your heart to lean towards your people a bit more with compassion and caring?

I’d love to hear how this lands with you.

Image byClive Power.

And thanks to all who have commented on the previous post so far: Wendy Piersall, Ashley Cecil, Jonathan C Phillips, Mona Grayson

© Adam for Adam Kayce, 2007. | Permalink | 15 comments

Every other word she utters is, “Why?”
Every answer to her, “Why?” is followed up with another, “Why?”

And so I started thinking: That’s a great question.

Why do you do what you do?
Why is your work, your work?
Why do you stay at it? Why do you love it? Why?

In Jim Collins’ landmark book, Built to Last (Good to Great, his more famous book, was written as a prequel to Built to Last), he shares an exercise which is profound (and profoundly simple) for getting at the deeper reasons for what you do. He calls it The Five Why’s:

Start with the descriptive statement, “We make X products” or “we deliver X services,” and then ask “why is that important?” five times. After a few whys, you’ll find that you’re getting down to the fundamental purpose of the organization.

When you ask, “why?”, five-levels deep, where are you taken?

I’m taken to some of my core beliefs that motivate my work, and the kinds of differences I want to make in the world. And when I do that, the reasons why I do what I do come into really clear focus. And, they expand.

When I started Monk At Work, I was coming from ten years of working as a spiritual and energetic healer, using my intuitive abilities to help people know why they were sick, what they needed to do to get well, and then help them get there, through personal development and spiritual growth.

And yet, when I asked myself, “Why?”, the reasons always came down to my desires to make the world a better place. I realized that in order to do that on the scale I wanted to, in the way I wanted to, I would have to change just about everything about my business. And so, I did.

Now, I teach spiritual development, intuition, and productivity (well, I used to…). But why?

1. Because if you can become the best of who you were born to be, open your heart to your patrons, know what they need, and then get good enough at doing things to actually get done the things that will help your people, then you can create a remarkable business. But why?
2. Because if you create a remarkable, client-centered business that truly serves people, you are becoming an immensely deep, beloved friend for your patrons. But why?
3. Well, besides making obvious business sense (talk about laying the ground for rich client relationships, lifelong customers, and a reason to spread the word!), it’s because that’s what people long for. Love. Richness. A great life. And your business can help foster that. But why?
4. Because the more love that exists in the world, the better world we have to live in. More love = more happiness = more respect for self and others = more caring for, well, everything… including the environment, the needy, and those who are in your world, in one way or another.

So, those are four of my Why’s (no one says you have to get to five). And, it’s also the foundation, message, and vision of my business. Now you know what Monk At Work is all about:

I’m here to help you become a beloved friend to your patrons, and in turn, create rich, meaningful lives for all.

The “how” is through spirituality, productivity, and intuition, of course… but that’s a discussion we can get further into at another time.

What are your Why’s? I’d love to hear.

© Adam for Adam Kayce, 2007. | Permalink | 13 comments

But as onerous as being in debt to Big-Brother-esque financial corporations can be, there is a subtler, even more transfixing form of revolving debt that can hamstring your best efforts at working productively, being effective, and feeling free.

It’s the revolving debt of normalcy.

Say what?

Everybody wants to fit in. And each of us has old pictures in their minds from the time when “being cool” was hot — yes, even the in-crowd.

But yearning for a sense of social normalcy only straight-jackets your success as a small business.

Because when thoughts of, “What will they think? Will they like it? Will they buy it?” start dominating your mental landscape, then you’re spiraling quickly down the toilet-bowl of revolving debt.

Maybe not financial debt (or, not yet). But spiritual debt, the kind of soul-gnawing itch that tells you you’ve given too much of yourself away, yes. Because following anyone else’s idea of what’s right for your business is as exhausting as sitting in rush-hour creep.

Not to mention, it’s the worst way to get noticed, liked, and listened to (and ultimately, bought from), even though that’s the intention that drives you to adopt the vanilla attitude.

Why?

Because people don’t line up for vanilla. They don’t want to listen to you say all the same things everyone has already said.

People — the people that are waiting for you — don’t want you to fade into the monochromatic background of normalcy. They — the people that need your help — want you to stand up strongly for who you are and what you believe, even if (or especially if) it goes against the grain.

Don’t be a sheep… be a shepherd.

Why is standing out so important? It goes back to the primary rule of marketing: People listen to you because they want what you have. That’s right; they see the success (however they define it) they want in you, and figure that listening to you is the best way to get it for themselves.

So do you think people want vanilla? Do they want to be sheep? Do they want to blend into the crowd? Stone the bloody crows, no!

They want to be inspired, strong, and capable of standing on their own. They want to be able to resist the black-hole-pull of normalcy, and sound their own barbaric yawp across the rooftops of the world (hats off to Whitman). And the last thing that’s going to get them that is a vanilla sheep.

But a shepherd? That’s a world apart.

Shepherds aren’t in spiritual debt, because they aren’t letting the sheep dictate their pace. Shepherds stand out in a field of sheep, and that why they’re followed.

But, if I stand out, will people like me?

No, they’ll love you. They’ll love you because you aren’t letting your fear get the best of you, like their fears have bested them. They’ll love you because you’re unique, just like they want to be.

And, speaking your own message is as energizing as a caffeine IV drip. Stepping out with your own passion, bringing the love you have in your heart to the world juices up everything you do, because nothing is more enlivening than freedom. It will free you from the malaise of conformity and the debt of inner emptiness.

So go on — beat that drum, sound that yawp, and get out of debt. Your clients will love you for it.

Image by falcifer.

© Adam for Adam Kayce, 2007. | Permalink | 2 comments