You Got This!
Page 3
The Blank-Drawer
If the Flip-Flopper sees too many possibilities out there, the Blank-Drawer just isn’t seeing enough. You have the drive, you know you want to do something meaningful, but every time you’re asked that magic question—“What do you want to do with your life?”—you draw a blank. Sound familiar?
In my experience, Blank-Drawers tend to be very passionate individuals—they think of their time and talents as extremely important resources, and they absolutely refuse to waste any energy pursuing a goal that doesn’t impress, inspire, or move them. In fact, Blank-Drawers often know more about what they don’t like than what they do. For example, you may love art and art history, but you’re not great at drawing or painting, you don’t want to be a teacher, and you find museums to be stuffy and boring—so working at one is out, too. Or, you’re passionate about nature and the environment, but you can’t picture yourself working as a scientist, or an engineer, or an activist. Blank-Drawers are often very picky when it comes to crafting their future.
Now, this pickiness has some definite pros. On the upside, Blank-Drawers tend to be extremely ambitious people. As soon as they find their “something,” they focus on it 100 percent. Blank-Drawers are often great at time management, too. (After all, the last thing a Blank-Drawer wants to do is drain her time and talents on something that isn’t truly “worth it” or meaningful.)
But there’s a downside to being so sure about what you like and don’t like, especially at such a young age: you may wind up limiting yourself. You might miss opportunities that you didn’t even know existed because you were too afraid or stubborn or reluctant to explore. It’s great to be focused, but by trying new things (even when you think you might not get anything out of it in the long run), you still gain valuable experience and grow as a person.
If you’re a Blank-Drawer, make sure to check out the sections “Creativity + Curiosity = Your Awesomeness, Unleashed” on page 43, and “Busting Out of Your Comfort Zone” on page 53—these will help you expand your horizons, encourage you to explore and experiment, and help you determine whether what you think you know about yourself is really actually true.
The Under-Thinker
The Under-Thinker isn’t changing her mind every day, flitting from one idea to the next like the Flip-Flopper. And she’s not as picky as the Blank-Drawer. When it comes to answering that all-important question—“What do you want to do with your life?”—the Under-Thinker just hasn’t thought about it yet. Instead, she’s focused on the basics, like acing that math test, winning that soccer game, or making toast without setting the kitchen on fire. The future? For the Under-Thinker, that’s a looong way off.
Lots of people, young and old, don’t give the future a whole lot of thought, because they’re focused on the here and now; they’re living in the present. And while there are some benefits to being in-the-moment (Under-Thinkers almost always take time to stop and smell the roses, so to speak), the problem with this approach is that by ignoring your future—by refusing to think about it—you could be ignoring your potential, too.
Let’s take a look at the reasons why you aren’t thinking about tomorrow. Perhaps you feel discouraged? Maybe you’ve been criticized in the past:
What do you mean you don’t have a clue about what you’d like to do? You should really have some ideas by now! What have you been spending all your time doing?!
That kind of criticism is not only hurtful; it can paralyze you with fear. (Maybe my parents/teachers/coaches are right. Look at [insert name of successful friend here]. She’s so far ahead of me in figuring out this stuff!) Sometimes the way we cope with that fear is to shut down, to just under-think the whole thing, to forget about and ignore the possibilities.
Listen up: You are not alone. There are a zillion Under-Thinkers out there, and many of them have gone on to achieve great things. So don’t listen to the little voice in your head that says there’s something wrong with you for not knowing what your goals are yet. (That little voice, by the way, could be your own voice, or it could be someone else’s, even someone you love and respect—like your mom or dad—who’s just worried about your future, too.) All you need is a little help getting pointed in the right direction.
If you’re an Under-Thinker, you’ll want to focus on the next section in this book, “How a Dream Board Can Help You Dream Big” (page 31), which will help you discover your passions naturally, without putting so much pressure on yourself.
HOW A DREAM BOARD CAN HELP YOU DREAM BIG
Zeroing In on What Makes You Awesome
When I was little and my parents didn’t feel like cooking dinner, they’d sometimes send out for sushi. I didn’t like sushi back then (I guess I didn’t have a sophisticated enough palette—I love it now!), so instead of raw fish, I’d eat a fortune cookie.
The cookies were okay—a little dry, a little bland—but what I really liked were the fortunes, particularly the positive ones that promised you “peace and happiness in the coming years,” stuff like that. It was like getting a magical message written just for you. They reminded me of sacred scrolls, just big enough (or tiny enough) for a mouse. On one particular evening, I got a fortune that really spoke to me. I don’t remember what it said anymore (something generic about prosperity and happiness, probably); I might have even just liked the fact that it had smiley faces on it. All I know is that it made me feel like something good might happen or like luck might come my way. So I grabbed some Scotch tape (knowing me, it was probably just lying around my room, left over from a previous craft project) and taped the fortune on the wall next to my bed. That way, I’d see it when I said my prayers at night.
I’ve always lived in a faith-based household. My parents instilled in me that it’s important to be grateful and grounded (not “grounded” like stuck in your room, but rather stable, secure, and well balanced). My mother taught me all about meditation, and we sometimes listened to motivational speakers like Dr. Wayne Dyer. We even do yoga in the mornings, which is a great way to unwind when things in your life start to get crazy. Because of all those things, I started focusing on being positive from a very young age. I understood the benefit of surrounding yourself with positive affirmations and messages—even in the form of great fortunes from fortune cookies.
Not long after taping that first fortune to the side of my bed, I started taping new ones (as well as other kinds of positive messages, including inspirational sayings and quotes) in other places: next to my light switch—so that every time I entered my room, I’d be greeted by a burst of positivity—on the wall, anywhere I might see them throughout the day, not just when I was going to sleep at night.
Fast-forward to age seven or eight, and I had decided to take that positivity to the next level. I was ready to create my own “dream board,” filled with uplifting fortunes, drawings, illustrations, and quotes. (Although it wasn’t actually a “board”—it was just a sheet of colored construction paper.) I cut out pictures from magazines, two dogs from the cardboard sleeve of the straight-to-DVD movie Air Buddies (mostly because I desperately wanted a pet), even the logo from a macaroni-and-cheese box. (I eat a lot of snacks made by a company called Annie’s. The corporate logo is a rabbit; I particularly like the Peace, Pasta, and Parmesan macaroni and cheese because the pasta is made in the shape of peace signs and the rabbit is wearing a tie-dyed shirt on the box. Who says mac and cheese isn’t positive?) Underneath all those pictures and cardboard cutouts, I wrote inspirational words and sayings, like “believe,” “put on a happy face,” “friendship,” and “make the world a better place.” Anytime I was feeling down about whatever crisis was going on in my seven-year-old world (which admittedly couldn’t have been that big a deal, since my primary concerns were probably Legos and the shows on PBS Kids), I would turn to that dream board, and, like magic, it would make me feel better. I still have it, in fact, tucked into an old portfolio. Now that I’m a teenager, it looks a little bit cheesy and childish, but it still never fails to put a smil
e on my face.
By the time I turned eleven, I’d already launched my business and I was beginning to see the world through a bigger lens. I had started to think about the people, places, and things that gave me hope for the future or sparked my creative drive. That’s when I took notice of a certain wall in my studio (the room where I make everything that I sell via Maya’s Ideas). That wall was the first thing I saw every day when I came in and sat down to work—it set the tone for my whole workspace, in fact—but it was just a blank, bare white wall. It was practically screaming for some life, some kind of decoration. And then it hit me: I would make a whole wall of inspiration, not just a board. With my parents’ okay, I took over the space.
Ever since making my wall of inspiration, the whole tone of my studio has changed. It’s brighter and much more creative, which was the whole point of having a studio in the first place! Here’s what you’ll find on my dream board (er, inspiration wall) these days: My grandmother used to tell me, “Maya, with God all things are possible,” and that quote became a kind of overarching theme; I printed it out and tacked it right at the top. Below that, I’ve got pictures of Rosa Parks, because she gives me a boost of courage whenever I need it; Gabby Douglas, the Olympic gymnast who energizes and inspires me to push myself just a little bit harder; and Gabrielle Bernstein, a wonderful and inspiring speaker, author, and all-around guru who lifts me up and is an embodiment of all things positive. I’ve also got pictures of my family members, and some funny photos of my pets (including my dog, Blackberry, and my two cats, Coconut and Fritter). You’ll also see lots of stuff about art, including one of my favorite photos ever taken, a shot of me standing next to Vincent van Gogh’s famous painting Starry Night.
I first saw the painting when I was only a year or two old, in a Baby Einstein video featuring the one and only Vincent van Goat (yes, a goat puppet). Many years later, I was headed to New York City and the world-famous Museum of Modern Art—since I’m homeschooled, my parents are in charge of the field trips—and I just had to see the real thing. It was awe inspiring, of course, a truly incredible thing to see up close and in person, but what I really wanted was a picture of myself next to the painting. Now, the museum doesn’t exactly encourage this kind of thing, but the security guard on duty was nice enough to let me take one. Whenever I look at that picture, I’m inspired not just by the power of Van Gogh’s work, but by the memory of a stranger who treated my family with such kindness. It’s something I’ll treasure forever.
Dream boards (or vision boards or inspiration walls, whatever you want to call them) are great because they provide a visual source of inspiration. Whenever I feel down, discouraged, or creatively stuck, I literally stare at the wall in my studio for a boost of confidence or a shot of encouragement, or to lift my spirits. But dream boards are also great because they can help us zero in on what we’re truly passionate about. Making a dream board can help you tap into your raw creative energy.
Sometimes the hardest part about figuring out your future is just getting started. After all, saying to yourself, “I need to figure out what I want to do for the next fifty years of my life” can be a little daunting, so let’s take it down a notch. Just for a moment, forget about your future. Don’t worry about what you want to be doing five, twenty, or fifty years from now. This is about having fun. (Creative impulses, remember, are generally fun impulses.) Whether you have a vague idea of what you want to do or absolutely no idea—and I’m talking to you, Under-Thinkers!—this exercise will help you out.
MAKE YOUR OWN DREAM BOARD
What you’ll need: Magazines, postcards, newspapers, or photographs (so long as you’ve got the okay to cut them up); scissors; glue or tape; and an open mind.
Making a dream board is a little different from starting a scrapbook or thumbtacking party pics and ticket stubs to your bulletin board. That’s not to say that your first-prize ribbon from the swim meet shouldn’t make the cut if it’s a source of encouragement. Ditto for that boarding pass from a recent plane trip or that program from a special performance or show. But the goal here is looking ahead, not back. A dream board should be less about what you have done and more about what you’re into. Here’s what to do:
Start Small. You don’t have to dedicate an entire wall to your dreams (although if you want to, go for it). Just remember that you can make a great dream board on a small piece of poster board. I started with a single sheet of construction paper.
Don’t Worry, Be Happy. If the characters on the mac-and-cheese box make you smile, use ’em. Or, if mac and cheese doesn’t do it for you, try flipping through old magazines or your favorite books for inspiration. What brings you the most joy could be a simple snapshot with friends or a great vacation photo, a postcard of a place you’d like to visit one day, art from your favorite artist, a funny joke your brother told you, even a printout of the funniest (in your opinion) emojis. Do you love volleyball? Maybe paste up a picture of you with your volleyball teammates, or slap a sticker of a volleyball next to your favorite inspirational quote. You’re going for anything that brings you positivity and light, but the point is to not overthink things. If it passes the happy test—even if you can’t really explain why—it goes on the board.
Leave It Unfinished. Huh? Aren’t you always supposed to finish what you start? Well, in this case it’s okay—preferable, even—not to finish the project. After all, if your day-to-day life is still changing and taking shape, so, too, is your future. You may find that as you grow, so do your dreams (and, therefore, so does your board).
Did you make your dream board yet?
Yes?
Okay, good. You’re ready to continue on to the next part.
I’ve already told you what’s on my wall, but if I were to stand back and analyze it—if I were to search it for themes—here’s what I’d see: lots of pictures of strong and powerful women, lots of pictures of animals and of nature (trees, flowers, lakes, and streams), and representations of art in all its forms. Which makes sense when you think about it, doesn’t it? Some of my primary interests and passions include women and girls’ rights (we’ll talk more about that in part III), the environment and sustainability (remember, I run an eco-friendly fashion company), and art, which, as I think I’ve made clear, is my primary love.
Analyzing your dream board for common themes—or clues, if you will—can be helpful when you’re trying to find your path, when you’re attempting to discern what matters to you most. So, I want you to take a step back and look at your dream board. What jumps out?
Maybe you posted lots of pictures of Paris and all things Parisian—the Eiffel Tower, a woman wearing a red beret, a postcard of a bridge spanning the Seine. Hmm . . . what is it about Paris that prompted you to cut out so many pictures? It could be that you love the sound of French, that you’re interested in learning to speak another language. Or, maybe your favorite restaurant is a French restaurant, and you’d like to know more about French food. Maybe you just want to travel the world someday.
Or, perhaps you pasted up lots of images from popular movies. But what is it about movies that sucks you in? Are those movies animated or live action? Do you like the performance aspect, or is it the stories themselves that move you? Perhaps they’re all science fiction films, and what you’re really interested in is technology, or robotics, or artificial intelligence.
Keep exploring your dream board for clues and common themes, even if you don’t recognize any right away. What you love is probably staring you right in the face!
CREATIVITY + CURIOSITY = YOUR AWESOMENESS, UNLEASHED
By now, we’ve talked about taking your fun seriously and zeroing in on your passions by making a dream board—we’ve given your creative mind a bit of a workout. But there’s another component to unleashing your awesomeness that I want to talk about, too.
Not too long ago, I was doing an interview. About halfway through, the reporter stopped to pay me a compliment. “You must be really smart to have accomplished so much at
such a young age,” she said. And that got me thinking, what does it mean to be “smart”?
Does smart mean that you get straight As every semester, or that you’re first to solve a problem, to raise your hand with the right answer? Sure, that can totally mean that you’re smart—in fact, we normally call those kinds of skills “book smarts.” But being smart isn’t always just about grades. It’s important to get an education, of course, and it’s certainly not okay to slack off in school. You should always, always try your best. But I don’t think kids and teens should let just their grades define them. There are lots of really, really smart people who didn’t or don’t perform all that well in school.
What other words could we use to stand in for “smart”? “Intelligent,” “quick-witted,” and “wise” come to mind. But what about . . . “curious”? Isn’t curiosity the very thing that drives you to learn more, to ask questions, to gain knowledge, and to try new things?
After all, I might have started designing and making headbands for fun, but I started my company out of curiosity. Since it had never before occurred to me that a kid could run a business, I wanted to understand how it all worked. The initial steps to launching Maya’s Ideas, in fact, were largely centered on learning more about Etsy.
Curiosity is also what drove me to learn more about animation. I didn’t realize it then, but in a way—even before watching that two-minute Playhouse Disney television special—I had long been trying my hand at making cartoons. For example, Stuart Little 2 was one of my absolute favorite movies when I was younger. I’d watch it over and over and over again. (I’m not sure why I liked the second one so much better than the first, but I could recall the whole thing for you right now if you wanted.) Then I’d sit down, grab a sketchbook, and draw each and every significant scene, one right after the other, kind of like storyboarding. Of course, I rarely made it all the way to the end of the movie—I’d get tired of drawing the same thing over and over—but this was kind of like my way of trying to animate. I just didn’t know how to make those characters move.