by Marie Forleo
It’s a dream come true! Not only can we spend quality time with our family without abandoning our life in London, but we’ve been able to realize other dreams, too—ones we had in our minds, but didn’t have a way to make real . . .
Bonus Dream #1: We’ll travel back to the UK via one month in California. We’ve always been fascinated by California—the sun, the beaches, Silicon Valley, and the yoga and green juice culture. Now we get to check it out!
Bonus Dream #2: When we first moved to London, one of our dreams was to live in a European country and learn another language, but we had no idea how to do that. But now it’s real and happening! After California we’ll be in Spain for two months living, working, and learning Spanish! Olé!
Everything is figureoutable has turned our lives upside down in the best possible way. We hope more people hear this phrase and are encouraged to go for their biggest dreams—even the ones they’ve given up on, like we had!
—PAUL AND KIM
LOCATION-FREE!
7
Start Before You’re Ready
“Are you ready?” Klaus asked finally.
“No,” Sunny answered.
“Me neither,” Violet said, “but if we wait until we’re ready we’ll be waiting for the rest of our lives.”
Lemony Snicket, The Ersatz Elevator
I was standing outside, looking up at the Viacom building in Times Square. Tourists and fast-moving business folks bumped me from all sides. My palms were sweaty. I was light-headed. Nauseated. I eyed the metal garbage can on the corner of Broadway and Forty-Fifth. Should I throw up now or wait until I’m inside? I felt like a complete fraud. Not one part of me felt ready for what I was about to do.
Let me explain.
Remember how I sobbed in my first real dance class at Broadway Dance Center? How I couldn’t believe I’d wasted so many years thinking about dance rather than actually dancing? You should know, I barely made it through that class. Yet even though I had trouble following the choreography and didn’t vibe with the music or dance style, that single class changed my life. It released my inner dance kraken. Mind you, I was still living on a blow-up air mattress in my friend’s apartment, mired in debt and scraping by. Taking consistent classes at Broadway Dance Center didn’t seem possible at the time (twenty dollars per class adds up fast), but I had to find a way to keep going. Thankfully, I had a membership to Crunch Fitness. Crunch was known for its innovative group fitness classes and had a strong roster of dance teachers.
Hip-hop was (and still is) my one true love; it’s what I grew up listening to and still what makes me come alive. Aside from coaching and bartending, I started going to every hip-hop dance fitness class I could find on the schedule. I went uptown, downtown, and crosstown. I’d never learned choreography before and dove headfirst into the challenge. Although I was slow to pick up the combinations, I stuck with it. What I lacked in technique and experience I made up for in effort. This went on for several months until I was a bona fide Crunch class addict. I became a member of what we affectionately called the “front row mafia”—those people who show up early to class, claim their spot at the front of the room, and go full out. We’re talking hair whips and stank faces. One day, something unexpected happened. After class, while I was still dripping with sweat and trying to catch my breath, the teacher came over to me and said, “You’re a good dancer. You got energy. Have you ever considered teaching?”
I legitimately looked over each shoulder in disbelief. “WHAT?!? ME?!?! TEACH?!?!?” My mind scrambled. I wondered, Is she high? I have no clue what I’m doing.
She continued, “We have teacher auditions coming up. You should try out.”
Though I was stunned and skeptical, I was also intrigued. My self-esteem had been in the toilet for so long that it was encouraging to hear someone say that I was mildly good at something.
FUTURE TRIPPING DONE RIGHT: THE TEN-YEAR TEST
There are two types of pain you will go through in life: the pain of discipline and the pain of regret. Discipline weighs ounces, while regret weighs tons.
Jim Rohn
Back at home, I sat on my air mattress stressing over whether to give this teacher audition a shot. I was torn. No doubt, I loved what I was learning and felt so alive in class. But was it responsible to put time and energy toward this new thing when I desperately needed to grow my coaching business, make more money, and—I don’t know—find a stable place to live? This was my fourth year of back-to-back career failures. I was estranged from my family and definitely wearing out my welcome at my friend’s place. I felt an incredible pressure to get my shit together and be an adult. I was gripped with fear that pursuing dance would put me even further behind. Maybe even jeopardize my future. That’s when I thought to ask myself a simple, illuminating question:
In ten years, will I regret NOT doing this?
In other words, when I’m thirty-five, will I look back at my twenty-five-year-old self and regret that I didn’t take this chance to pursue dance and fitness more seriously?
ANSWER:
Abso-friggin-lutely.
I knew instantly (and viscerally) that thirty-five-year-old Marie would most certainly slap current-day Marie. Hard.
If you’re unfamiliar with the term, “future tripping” refers to the common human tendency to worry about the future at the expense of living fully in the present. But when future tripping is strategic (like with the Ten-Year Test), stressing over future pain can be a powerful catalyst for change. Once I realized that thirty-five-year-old Marie would regret not at least exploring teaching dance, it was game time. I shifted my focus into figuring out how to best prepare for that audition. I asked for advice from as many dance teachers as I could. I worked my tail off to come up with a simple routine. Found bumping music. Practiced my cueing over and over and over again.
Audition day came. I was overly smiley and visibly nervous. But somehow I made it through my routine. I was given a long list of things to improve, but was now officially on the roster as a substitute teacher. Next, I started shadowing my favorite instructors—both in dance and general fitness classes. I always brought along a little yellow legal pad. Whenever I noticed a teacher say or do something inspiring, I’d crouch down, scribble a note, and then stand up and keep moving. My goal was to absorb everything I could about how to lead a great class. The more immersed I became in the world of dance and fitness, the more comfortable I began to feel in my own skin. This small but meaningful progress started impacting my coaching work, too. I began to communicate more clearly and succinctly. My energy and enthusiasm increased. Then one day, seemingly out of nowhere, I received a precious little mental download from the Career Gods. Their gift was a simple two-word phrase. But before I share it, some context . . .
INSPIRATION FROM THE ISLAND OF MISFIT TOYS
Normal is not something to aspire to, it’s something to get away from.
Jodie Foster
I adore animated stop-motion Christmas specials. One of my favorites is the 1964 classic, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. If you’re not familiar with the story, Rudolph is ostracized from his reindeer community because he doesn’t fit in. His big, red, glowing nose makes him a superfreak. Hurt and humiliated, he runs off into the woods where he encounters Hermey the elf, another young runaway. Consumed with shame, Hermey fled Santa’s Workshop because he had zero interest in a toy-making career. Hermey had other aspirations—aspirations so unusual that when he shared them, he was laughed out of the North Pole. His ultimate dream: to be a dentist. Rudolph and Hermey decide to be misfits together and eventually wind up on the Island of Misfit Toys, the place where all the world’s unloved or unwanted toys live. There, we meet a charming train with square wheels. A cowboy that rides an ostrich. And, my favorite, a jack-in-the-box who cries because he’s named Charlie. “What child ever asks for a CHARLIE-in-the-box?!”
I consider myself an honorary resident of the Island of Misfit Toys. Like Rudolph and Hermey, I’ve always felt like I don’t quite fit in. My choices regularly seem to go against the grain. That’s why what I’m about to share—my surprise gift from the Career Gods—was so helpful. When I heard this two-word phrase for the first time in my head, it was as if someone else whispered it to me. It was like a secret clue was being revealed to nudge me along my misfit path.
Multipassionate
Entrepreneur
Marie . . .
You ARE a Multipassionate Entrepreneur.
Now quit whining about how I never give you signs.
This little made-up phrase was transformative at that stage in my life. From that moment forward, and without much forethought, when people asked me what I did for a living, I started saying that I was a multipassionate entrepreneur. Rather than feeling shame because I didn’t have one good, society-approved answer, I began to feel just the slightest twinge of swagger. Whenever I said “multipassionate entrepreneur,” people were intrigued and asked what that meant. I’d then share a bit about all the things I did for a living: my coaching practice, working as a personal assistant for a photographer, bartending, and that I was starting work in dance and fitness. That phrase gave me a new context, and in doing so, I began to see myself in a new light. Which, unsurprisingly, led to new opportunities.
Our culture is steeped in outdated understandings of careers, callings, and livelihood. A significant portion are relics of the industrial age and the push for specialization. Long before you’re a functioning adult, you’re expected to choose one (well-paying) thing to be, incur outlandish debt to get educated in that one thing, stick to that choice for the next forty-plus years, pray you’ll earn enough to one day retire, and not go broke before you die. Not only is this idea grossly passé but it’s dangerous in myriad ways—one being that many of us simply aren’t built for that kind of narrow, long-term focus.
Sure, some people instinctively and happily devote their lives toward a single field. They’re clear and enthusiastic, sometimes even as children. I must become a __________. Writer. Builder. Musician. Neuroscientist. Sales executive. Mathematician. Engineer. Inventor. Lawyer. Actor. Etc. We love those folks. You may be one of them.
But some of us aren’t designed that way. We’re multipassionate creatives. We connect the dots between diverse and often seemingly disparate disciplines, spanning years and even decades. Eventually (and usually in retrospect), we weave innumerable skills, experiences, and ideas into a multilayered, multifaceted, one-of-a-kind career tapestry.
One thing is certain: there is no set blueprint for discovering your life’s work. We’re each on a wholly individualized adventure. You must have the wisdom to keep faith with the signals from your heart and the courage to walk your own path.
Those two simple words—“multipassionate entrepreneur”—helped me finally stop trying to fit myself into a conventional career box and gave me the emotional freedom I needed to spread my misfit wings and fly.
THE NASTY LITTLE LIE THAT HOLDS YOU BACK
A surplus of effort could overcome a deficit of confidence.
Sonia Sotomayor
Cut back to me on the cusp of hurling into a public trash can outside the Viacom building. Just two weeks prior, I began teaching my very own hip-hop classes at a Crunch gym. As luck would have it, a producer from MTV was a student in one of those early classes. After the cooldown, she approached me and introduced herself. “Hey—I loved your music choices and energy! You know, I’m working on a show and we’ve got an opening for a choreographer/producer. You should come and meet my boss. I think you’d be great for this position.”
Remember, I was still as green as you could get in the dance world. After all, I just started to teach my own class—and at a gym for heaven’s sake, not a professional dance studio. Only a few short months had passed since that Beginner Modern Jazz cry-fest at Broadway Dance Center. Now I was faced with an offer to interview for a position at MTV. The thoughts in my mind sounded like this:
Oh HEEELLLL no! I’m SO not ready for this yet!! C’mon, Universe. Couldn’t this opportunity show up just a little bit later—once I figure out what the hell I’m actually doing? When I’m more experienced? More confident? More, you know . . . R E A D Y?
But here’s the truth I’ve come to learn time and time again:
You never feel ready to do the important things you’re meant to do.
As panicked as I felt, I couldn’t justify a flat-out no. I grew up watching MTV! They were an epic brand. Plus, I needed to make more money. I had to at least give it a shot. So I’d said yes, scheduled an interview, and showed up as a queasy, clammy mess outside the Viacom building. After a few deep breaths, I walked in, cleared security, and stepped into the elevator. On the ride up to the twenty-fourth floor, I got my head straight. I committed to give it my all. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I wasn’t getting any younger, and I knew I’d regret it if I let fear hold me back.
Plus, this experience could help me gain something else I desperately wanted: a way to exponentially speed up my learning. Immersion in the MTV environment would force me to grow as a dancer, choreographer, and leader at ten to twenty times the speed than if I was stumbling around, trying to piece things together by myself. I arrived on the twenty-fourth floor and walked down the hall to the boss’s office. I shook out my hands, shimmied my shoulders, rolled my neck, then knocked on her door. Long story short . . .
I booked that gig.
Honestly, getting the job was even more terrifying because I suddenly had to lead, manage, and creatively support dancers that had years more experience than I did. My naivete was, at times, glaringly obvious. There were dance terms thrown around in conversation I didn’t know, never mind perform. I felt like a clueless idiot on a regular basis.
And yet that one decision to say yes, far before I was “ready,” was a launching point for what became a string of incredible projects that parlayed into an extremely satisfying segment of my career. Because of this one choice, I would later star in and lead a number of dance fitness videos, choreograph commercials, become a Nike athlete, and travel the world.
It’s not an exaggeration to say that that single decision to start before I was ready profoundly impacted the entire course of my business and life. The connections I made, the skills I strengthened on camera (hello, future MarieTV!), and the production experience I gained from one single move were enormous. I also maintained my coaching clients and a number of bartending shifts, too, which meant that I learned how to manage my time like a boss. What’s more, I continue to use this start before you’re ready strategy to fast-track my learning and growth. These days, I run toward projects that make me uncomfortable, and not once has starting before I felt ready failed to produce valuable results.
On MarieTV I interview some of the world’s most creative and accomplished people, and guess what—virtually all of them share stories of starting before they felt ready. I bet you have proof of this in your own life, too. Haven’t some of your most valuable growth experiences come because somehow you bypassed the pervasive little “I’m not ready yet” lie? Because you moved ahead despite fear, hesitation, and uncertainty? My hunch is yes. That’s because of this timeless truth:
All progress begins with a brave decision.
Personal progress. Professional progress. Collective, societal progress—all of it is born from a single person’s decision to act. To stand up. To speak out. To make a move. Usually long before there’s any guarantee of success. Another point most of us fail to see: action comes before the courage to act. Action spawns courage, not the other way around.
Action also generates motivation. Instead of waiting for inspiration to strike, action implores you to keep going.
Think about working out. You don’t always feel like doing it. In fact, you might very strongly not want t
o do it. Listen to the voice in your head and you’ll hear something like, I don’t FEEL like it. I’m tired. I don’t want to. I’ll start tomorrow. However, something peculiar happens the moment you lace up your sneakers and get moving anyway. Another, more powerful force takes over. Within a few minutes, you feel more energized and alive. Inspired, even. Work out a few days in a row and BAM—a domino effect kicks in. Without much effort, you begin to crave healthier foods. Drink more water. Maybe even yearn for your next workout. This same phenomenon can be seen with virtually any creative endeavor. Bodies in motion tend to stay in motion. Doing it generates the desire to keep doing it.
That’s why this “start before you’re ready” practice is a vital part of the figureoutable philosophy. When you start before you’re ready, you obliterate inertia and get momentum on your side. This applies to anything we want to figure out. Momentum is the secret elixir, and the only way to get that momentum is this:
You must disobey the voice in your head that says, I’m not ready yet.
Know why? Because that voice is bullshit. It’s a lazy, whiny, repetitive, life-sucking little parasite. That voice—the one that’s constantly telling you how not ready you are, how much you don’t feel like doing this or that, how incapable and incompetent and not good enough you are—that voice is not you and it’s not true. The only power it has is the attention and authority you grant it. Stay aware, because the voice is cunning. It’ll do whatever it can to keep you caged in stuckness with logical, rational lies.
