Just Try Shit: Or, The No-Stakes Messing Around Approach

Watercolors. Photo by Pam Daghlian

I learned something simple (and super cool) in the last year: no-stakes playing around, trying shit for the sake of trying shit just to see what happens, just to see what you learn about yourself, just to see what it feels like (whatever 'it' is) — this is what it's all about. 

I knew this theoretically, of course, and my clients and I dream up all kinds of experiments for them to run in their own lives, but it took me awhile to learn this in my bones for myself. And by learn, I actually mean remember. Because as kids we did this no-stakes playing around all the time. There was no point to our play other than we followed a feeling — to throw a ball back and forth, to ride our bikes for hours, to roll clay around on a the table, to make up stories, to put on plays, to build stuff with legos.  

One of the things that really helped me learn/remember was a 100 Day Project I started in February. My project started out as a writing project, but a few weeks in turned into more of a painting project. Not only did I have no idea that would happen, I started to enjoy the painting more than the writing. That really blew my mind. 

I shared my project each day on Instagram and one day, toward the end of the hundred days, I got this comment on Instagram from someone I don't know who is a former high school art teacher: "Simply in love with your project. You're quite gifted with experimental watercolor and color use — impressive!" When I told her I'd never painted before, she wrote, "You seem to be a natural... I taught painting (High school Art), and it was infrequent that one of my students adapted to the media so naturally." 

I share this not to toot my own horn, but to show that if we don't try shit, if we don't run experiments in our lives, how do we know what's hiding out inside us? How will we know that what's hiding might be something that lights part of our life on fire? That brings us real joy? That might even change the course of our life? 

I had NO IDEA I liked to paint. I probably hadn't touched paints since grade school. In fact, the story I always told myself was that 'I can't draw, I don't paint.' 'I'm not good with stuff like that.' Every time I tried to make something crafty or artsy I gave up because it wasn't perfect from the get-go. Knitting, sewing, jewelry making, nope, nope and nope. But I paid attention to the little spark I got when I walked by a display of watercolors in a Japanese stationery store last fall and I told my husband if he needed a Christmas gift idea for me, to get me some watercolors. And he did.

I broke out the paints on Christmas Day. The first two or three tries sucked. I got super discouraged and gave up like I always did. But the next day, the paints said, 'try again.' The watercolor paper said, 'rip me into smaller pieces.' So I did. Jackpot. 

Here's what I found out: I loved painting on small bits of paper. I loved using bright colors. I was drawn over and over again to bright yellows and reds and blues. I loved putting them all together, layering them on top of one another. I loved just dripping the paint on the paper. Then I loved splattering. Then I loved circles. Then I loved more muted colors. Then I learned I don't like purple all that much. I was just messing around and trying shit and look what happened — I found a thing I loved to do and I kept doing it simply because I loved doing it. Not because I was good at it, or other people liked it (although many did and that was a nice surprise), not because I wanted to make a business out of my idea (although some people want to buy them), or because I wanted to learn how to paint. But because it gave me a little high to make a painting and then see the results. 

I feel kind of bad for the painter part of me who was hiding out all this time. The part of me I forced to keep hiding with my story of 'I can't paint.' But I'm glad she's out in the light now. Through the no-stakes painting, I got the idea for a book. I found a point of view with paints. I could see future possibilities like making a greeting card line. I even applied for a writing residency using my paintings as part of the application. Who knew?!

I have a hunch that the hiding parts of you are tired of hiding. Their legs are falling asleep from crouching behind that old sofa in your brain. Their eyesight is failing from hiding in that dark closet next to that sofa. What's hiding in you? How might you find out? What shit are you going to try?