Discover Tara Mohr's "Hiding Strategies" and how to take the leap
I’m waiting to hear back on the proofread version of my novel’s manuscript right now. The big question is whether I made so many changes that the story will need anotherproofread of the proofread (which I thoughtfully pointed out to my project manager).
Calling a rally for all Perfectionists!
Or maybe a Perfectionist support group? Because the temptation to be not be quite ready is a sneaky little melody that plays in my head when I’m not paying attention.
Or, frankly, dragging my feet a little.
Hiding from the next step.
For instance, in preparation for writing my biographical novel, I read all 902 letters Vincent van Gogh wrote to his brother and others (see the Van Gogh letter catalogue). My rationale was that I was mirroring what my novel’s protagonist, Jo van Gogh did. Married to Vincent’s brother, Theo, Jo inherited Vincent’s artwork when her husband died and Vincent was simply one of thousands of failed artists.
My novel, Saving Vincent, A Novel of Jo van Gogh*, is based on the true story of how Jo tenaciously promoted the heck out of Vincent’s unknown/undervalued gigantic oeuvre in order for her son to have an inheritance.
When her husband suddenly died, Jo wasn’t ready. Just like us who have lost a loved one, she needed to grieve. In the midst of her heartache, she did muster the courage to make two critical decisions: Choose to move to a small town instead of returning to her father’s home, and to keep the paintings with her.
Over the next year she followed lots of well-intended advice and let others handle decisions on the artwork. It would be some time later before she realized she had to rely on herself, but not during those first several months.
She hid.
I can relate.
Tara Mohr’s Hiding Strategies
In the luminous book, Playing Big, Practical Wisdom for Women Who Want to Speak Up, Create and Lead, among the many insights the author Tara Mohr lists is ”Hiding Strategies.” She calls out women (< me cough >) for the ways we stall taking the next steps needed to fulfill our vision of meaningfulness.
Our purpose.
The book deserves a thoughtful close reading with your own highlighter, so please recognize that I’m going to list her six hiding strategies (just one of ten intriguing chapters) with the briefest of definitions to give you a taste. The book itself is a three-course meal.
No, make that a banquet of practical ideas and wisdom.
There can be many reasons why we hesitate to take the next step toward writing a book, starting a business, leaping into bigger responsibility—you name it. Playing Bigdelves into a lot of these. Today, I’m focusing on how big ideas can get put off. In my book, I have Jo stumble into a few of them.
Perhaps you’ll recognize your own behavior in some of these?
Six Hiding Strategies
This before That. Making assumptions that things must happen in a certain sequence before moving forward. Like I have to finish my website updates before handing my business card to a bookseller where I want to do a book event next year. Really? I mean, I have the website should the bookseller want to check it out. It’s not perfect but it still validates my claim to be a writer.
Designing at the Whiteboard**. Doing all your planning without any input from the people you’re designing for. I don’t mean writing a book to the market (as in the magical realism genre is popular so let me write a quick fantasy), but rather offerings for readers. Goodies like inside info, clever questions, a unique experience.
Let me give an example of how you can be misled if you stay too close to the whiteboard: I saw this time and again in my former work in market research. I remember a focus group on technology. We were investigating how tech-savvy our clients were, double-checking the sales teams’ assertion that their clients weren’t really interested in tech improvements. Even that their clients were tech averse. So we gathered a focus group of people who self-identified as not being tech savvy. (Bear with me because this was at least ten years ago.) When asked to describe his day-to-day use of tech, an older gentlemen said, “I’m not techy.” Facilitator: “OK, could you describe any way you use technology?” “Well, I mean, I pay my bills online. I text my grandkids, my daughter posts photos on Facebook I see, and I use my iPad to watch youtube documentaries. I order digital books online and read them on my e-reader because that’s cheaper . . . “ And on and on. Tech had permeated his life so ubiquitously that he didn’t recognize it—like all of us. Astounded the research facilitator asked, “Sir, what makes you think you’re not tech savvy?” The gentleman shrugged and said, “I can’t build an app.
”Ha! I love that story because it so clearly showed how a real user’s experience was so out of step with the sales team’s well-meaning assumptions. (Hold this thought! For I have an invitation for you at the end of this essay.)
Overcomplicating and Endless Polishing. (Guilty!) I tend to think of lots of embellishments to my ideas and tinker way too long. Note the comment above about wondering if I need a proofread of a proofread. Honestly. often simpler is enough. Period.
Collecting and Curating Everyone Else’s Ideas. Ahh, this is an especially wretched hiding strategy when YOUR perspective is the one that’s missing in the world. Here’s an example of a unique perspective using Jo’s gut marketing intuition as an example. She created her own stamp on how to present Vincent to the world with ideas like collaborating with art groups who agreed to open their doors to working people and to donate a portion of their proceeds toward relief for the poor. Vincent considered himself a laborer. In fact, he railed against the “money men.” This unique marketing strategy married Jo’s own heartfelt yearning to improve the lives of working folk to Vincent’s affinity for workers. His iconic painting, The Potato Eaters, shows the dignity of a tired family enjoying a meal after a day’s honest work.
Omitting My Own Story. Ouch, this is a familiar hiding spot for me. I think it’s a carryover from work life when I lived in a suit. There’s nothing wrong with professional polish, of course, but today sharing my own vulnerability acts as a check against Perfectionist Joan. Without it, I’m leaning toward external proof points to claim my worthiness. Maybe like you, I feel a little terror when I face a blank page—like writing this blog every week. But here’s another interesting tidbit from Tara Mohr. She shares that in the Hebrew Bible there are two different words for the word “fear”: pachad and yirah.
Pachad is worst-case scenario, imaginative fears of what terrible things couldhappen. It’s debilitating.
Yirah is the feeling of being in a larger space than we’re used to, before the leap into a brand-new experience. It’s energizing.
When I’m intimidated by the blank page, that’s yirah compelling me to lean into the hopeful opportunity to connect here with you.
I Need a Degree. The last hiding strategy is to put off moving forward until we finish that course, take another webinar, earn that degree. Right after I resigned my corporate job in order to write my book, the thought incessantly pestered me that maybe I should get an MFA first? I mean, I love to study (former honor-student here); love learning (true); and frankly don’t know what I don’t know when it comes to writing fiction. Wouldn’t a degree help? Perhaps, but in this case, I was using the MFA as an excuse to getting started. Someday I may pursue that route, but it will need to be for other reasons.
Willing to Take the Leap
In East of Eden, John Steinbeck wrote, “And now that you don’t have to be perfect, you can be good.”
There’s a final note here. It’s about the cost of you not pursuing your dream. We are creating a new narrative together, a new quality of connection with each other, our planet, and this new way of communicating and caring needs lots of manifestation and expression. You have an essential part in cultivating this new starting point.
It might be very tempting to hide.
That’s yirah!
Welcome it.
Warmly,
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