How One New Skill Can Give You the Edge You Need

In the Arts, we are surrounded by people who exist in the same Zone of Genius as we do. There are likely dozens (at least!) of other highly trained people who do exactly the same thing that we do–going after the same audiences, grant money, venues, and press. 

How do we gain an edge over the competition? Add One Skill. 

This might seem to go against the advice to spend as much time as possible in your zone of genius. We’re told about The 3 D’s:

DO 

DELEGATE

DELETE

This means that we DO the things that we are the best at–the things only we can do, and we delegate the things that need to get done but can be done by someone else, and we delete the tasks that don’t really need to be done at all. 

Do we need to iron the sheets? Nope. Delete. 

Last week I talked about what your USP is….well, here’s how to get a bit more U in your USP. It’s a secret that people don’t talk about as often. 

Add one skill. 

 

Like that conductor who can also juggle…

KIDDING hahaha.

 

Seriously though, 

  • The conductor who is skilled at public speaking (and is extremely engaging with the audiences–who keep coming back over and over because that conductor made them feel like they were welcome)

 

  • The Painter who is skilled at making reels (ones that are more interesting than just a time-lapse of them making something)

 

  • The Chef who is skilled at watercolor and creates the most beautiful frame-worthy handpainted menus for their guests. 

 

  • The Writer who is so skilled at using dictation software, that they can write novel after novel while going on their morning walks. 

 

The Chef with the handpainted menus has an edge Photo by Kasturi Roy for Unsplash

 

So, you might be wondering…If that new skill isn’t in my zone of genius, should I bother to do it? And if I do, how do I go about acquiring such a skill, and how do I know which skill would be most helpful? 

As for the first part, I think that if it can be incorporated into the performance of your zone of genius, then it’s well worth it. If doing it adds too many extra steps to your process, and takes more time than it would to simply delegate it, then it’s not the right skill. Also, you might not have the funds available to pay someone else to do it, but you feel that it would enhance your work. In that case? Totally worth it. 

As for choosing which skill to learn, here are a few different ways to go: 

 

1. Double down on YOU

What is something you do naturally, but just a little bit? Maybe you’re a chef, and you like to make your menus as pretty as Canva will let you. What would take that beauty to the next level? Watercolors? Calligraphy? Bedazzling them? 

 

2. Zig where everyone else is Zagging

This is a personal favorite of mine. Are all arts organizations trying to “appeal to a broader audience”  by performing the kind of crossover artists that NO ONE likes? (because let’s be honest. There’s great genre-bending performances, and then there’s the other kind. ) Maybe you can get super niche and become the foremost expert on one thing. 

 

3. Learn something cutting-edge

From using an iPad and a pedal for your music to using AI to find grant opportunities to using that new dictation software, what advances in technology would help you do what you do faster, or more prolifically? 

 

4. Learn something old-school that would give you an edge. 

The Choreographer who can design and sew costumes. The musician who can improvise cadenzas. A writer who can do their own illustrations. What skills could you bring to the table that would cut out a budget line, an extra person, or a time delay for you? 

 

5. Ask yourself what’s holding you back

When you think about having more success with what you’re doing, or a project you’d love to take on, what is holding you back? Is it because you don’t know how to do some aspect of it? What if you could learn how to do it in a few short weeks or months? Do you have a blog? Learn SEO. Do you play a string instrument? Learn how to do a basic soundpost adjustment. Do you yearn to write a memoir? Learn storytelling. Know that you need to up your social media game? Learn how to make really great reels. 

 

Adding a skill like videography can give you the edge in so many creative fields.

 

If you’re reading this, you are probably really good at what you do. Artist, Dancer, Musician, Writer, Lawyer, Doctor, Accountant…Whatever it is, it likely has been a passion of yours for a long time, and I’d bet anything your training was long and intensive. 

But most skills in life DON’T require 3 hours a day of practicing for 20 years. Sometimes it’s just a matter of watching a few YouTube videos, taking a quick online class, or reading a book. 

If you started today, you could have a super useful new skill before the holidays. The only question is, what is it going to be? 

 

 

Let us know in the comments, and have fun!  

Cheers!

Kate

 

P.S. Do you know what the most successful people in your field are doing on a regular basis? I do. And I put it all together for you in my free guide, 10 Habits of Successful Artists. Chock-full of clear action steps you can start taking today to level up your own career. 

Crafting a Unique Selling Proposition for Creatives

Have you ever heard the term Unique Selling Proposition (or USP)? It’s one of those Marketing terms that we were never taught in school. I know, I know. Nothing makes Creative Artists break into hives faster than Marketing Jargon. We don’t NEED marketing!  Our work speaks for itself! 

Wouldn’t that be nice? 

Here’s the thing though–there is a lot going on in this world, and information comes at us so quickly and changes by the minute. How many performances, new books, productions, podcast recommendations, and Netflix series have you learned about in the last 24 hours? 

A lot, right? And most of it grabs your attention…..until the next thing comes along a few seconds later. 

 

Your work does that too. It grabs someone’s attention for a few seconds until it’s replaced by the next thing in their feed. 

 

Most clients come to me for the first time without ever having thought about what it is that makes them stand out–what makes them memorable. What it is about their art that makes their work stick in the minds of the people hearing about it: 

  • The kind of music they want to play. 
  • The kind of students they love to teach. 
  • What they are saying/doing with their art 
  • What they are Best At and Most Passionate About.

 

In other words: A Unique Selling Proposition.  

 

How are you different?
Photo by Pooja Chudhary for Unsplash

 

What is unique about you? (And by unique, I don’t mean that you are the only violinist who plays Bach. I mean you are the red-headed violinist from Kentucky who knows a ton about Bach and gives incredible lecture performances of his music.) 

 

You don’t need to stand on your head and hula-hoop while you’re doing it the way some arts consultants would have you believe. 

 

Why Should people choose you over someone else? Do you have years of experience? Proven results? Do you always give some portion of the proceeds to charity? Do you create a cool experience?  Do you love to communicate with your audiences? Tell them all the juicy gossipy BTS info about what they’re about to see or hear? Or are you known as aloof and formal, a hermit who rarely mixes with the public?  What do you do better than most people around you? How do you do what you do differently than others? 

While you’re figuring that out, here are 5 Benefits to getting super clear about your USP: 

 

1. Your messaging gets clearer

Instead of promoting the basics of your event, you can highlight what makes it special, because you KNOW what makes it special. Is it an ultra-exclusive, invitation-only, high-end event? Or is it a casual, come-as-you-are-and-bring-your-friends throw-down in the neighborhood? Using the same words and concepts in your publicity over and over again might seem like overkill to you, but it’s what people will remember and start to associate with your name. When they need a particular thing. A violinist who can do an all Bach program for a bunch of CEOs? Our redheaded Bach expert in Kentucky is going to get the gig.

2. You end up getting the clients you WANT. 

When you are clear about what you do, you’ll attract the people you want to attract. If you want to bring in a full cross-section of the community, but you show a photo of a fancy concert hall with everyone wearing black tie, then some people aren’t going to come. If you promote the fact that everyone is welcome, there’s no dress code, and you don’t need to know anything about the topic/genre, then you’ll get the audience you’re looking for. 

This is especially important for teachers. I have had so many clients complain about the fact that they want to be working with advanced students, but keep getting beginners instead, or the awkward middle schooler who will quit once they decide that soccer is more their thing. If you talk about your advanced students and show that you only teach advanced students, then that is who will come knocking on your door. 

 

3. There is a huge dynamic shift 

Without a USP, they are choosing amongst many, and you consider yourself lucky if they choose you. WITH a USP, they KNOW you are the right person to help them, and that THEY are lucky if you have the room/space/time for them. The dynamic shift is palpable. 

 

4. It’s easier for others to refer you

Over the years, I have often been asked by non-musician friends for recommendations for music teachers for their young children. At any given time, I probably knew at least 30 people who taught whatever instrument they were asking about, and most of them probably taught all ages–including beginners, but I always recommended the person who specialized in young beginners. It was clear to me that they loved it, were good at it, and would be a great fit for this kid. 

You’d think that the more generalized someone is–the more they do– the more opportunities there are for referrals. Teacher for a 3-year-old! Teacher for a middle schooler! Teacher for an advanced high schooler, Adult Students! But no—that’s never how it is. 

The more specific you are about what you’re good at, the more referrals you will get. You’ll be the Go-To person for THAT specific thing. And if that specific thing is the specific thing you WANT to be doing? Win-Win. 

 

5. It creates a better story for others to tell. 

It’s one thing for us creatives to do marketing and promotion for ourselves. It’s necessary, and it can also be time-consuming and sometimes it feels cringey. So when OTHER people want to promote us by writing an article, having us on their podcast, or even just talking about us to other people, we are super grateful for the boost. 

One way to make it easy for people to do that is to have a clear story for them to tell. This person does THIS THING, for THESE PEOPLE, in THIS WAY for THIS AMAZING REASON. 

Go ahead and craft that story by answering those questions for yourself: 

  1. What do you do? 
  2. Who do you do it with/for? 
  3. How/Where do you do it? 
  4. Why do you do it that way? (or for those people, or at all?)

 

Getting clear on my USP has meant more of the right clients asking to work with me.

 

As for me? 

What? I help creatives to follow through on their big ideas to create legacy-building programs, projects, and events. 

Who? Successful mid-career creatives in the fields of Music, Dance, Drama, Art and Literature. 

How? Through my blog, Tales From The Lane, my Signature group program, Creatives Leadership Academy, and 1:1 private coaching. 

Why? Because getting these programs and projects into the world, and showing them that it’s possible, creates positive ripple effects on their lives, their communities, and their industries. 

You’ll notice that it’s very clear who I work with,  what I work on with them, how people can work with me, and why I do it.

As a Coach to Creatives, What is unique about me is that I have walked the walk, and have both the learned coaching skills, the business and marketing know-how, and the lived experience to help guide a person through just about anything they might want to do.  

I am living proof that anything is possible, and that’s what a person is looking for when they book their first discovery call with me. Maybe they are thinking about making a bold career move or pivoting towards something new. It usually involves some kind of legacy-building project. 

My USP is that Nothing sounds crazy to me. 

And ever since I’ve gotten clear on my USP, work has been falling into my lap–because the right clients find me, they come to me for the right reasons, and I am exactly the right coach for their situation. 

Now it’s your turn. What is your USP? Drop it in the comments so we can start sending you those referrals! 

Cheers, 

Kate x

Interested in taking your career as an artist from Good to Great? Grab a copy of my free workbook “10 Habits of Successful Artists” today, and make this your best year ever. 

 

Photo by Mark Duffel for Unsplash.com

Spotlight: Miriam Landis, Ballet Dancer turned Author

This month we are shining our Spotlight on my dear friend, Miriam Landis. Miriam and I lived in Miami Beach at the same time when I was a cellist in the New World Symphony and she was a Dancer in the Miami City Ballet. My, how time flies! She’s here to talk about being a professional dancer, being a freshman in college in her mid-20s, and how she manages to write, dance, teach, run a brand-new publishing house, AND raise 4 young kids. 

She is the author of the forthcoming middle-grade novel Lauren in the Limelight, and two young adult novels, Girl in Motion and Girl on Pointe (previously published as Breaking Pointe). Somewhere in between when we were tearing it up on the beach and this latest book release, she was also a 2022 LitCamp fellow, an assistant editor at Simon & Schuster, Hyperion, and the Amazon Books team, a Stanford grad, an online media manager for Island Books, and, as you’ll soon find out, a bunch of other cool stuff. When not writing, she can be found teaching and enjoying life in the Pacific Northwest.

 

TFTL: Welcome, Miriam! Can you tell us a bit about your path from Miami City Ballet Dancer to Published Author? It wasn’t exactly a direct line, was it?  

ML: Hi Kate, I’m so glad to be here, and thanks for having me. You’re correct, my path was full of zigzags. I left Miami City Ballet when I was 22, ready to pursue a college degree and broaden my horizons. That year, I moved home to Salt Lake City and spent a year at the University of Utah. I decided to major in premed, thinking I needed to do the hardest things I could think of to justify leaving my ballet career (are you picking up on some masochistic tendencies here?). 

After my freshman year, I transferred to Stanford and did another year of premed. Then I switched again after shadowing several doctors and realizing I wasn’t wired to see people in pain every day, not after watching the most beautiful, healthy people every day of my life in my past career. So I became an English major and leaned more into writing. 

I wrote for the Stanford Daily and started on my first novel, probably as therapy. I was trying to figure out why I couldn’t seem to find my place in the world. After my junior year, I took an internship at Simon & Schuster in New York and went back there after graduation. I spent several years in New York publishing houses as an assistant editor, and at the same time, I had a literary agent who tried to sell my first YA novels to a publishing house. Twilight was hot at the time, and my stories weren’t fantasy or vampires, but they also weren’t well-written. I had the concept but not the craft of writing. 

I gave up and stuck those books in a drawer. Time went on and I took a job on the Amazon Books team in Seattle. I met my husband, and he pulled my novels out of a drawer and encouraged me to self-publish them. That was right around the time Amazon launched its first self-publishing platform, CreateSpace, so it was an easy thing to do. But after working with top authors in the big publishing houses, I knew there was a stigma around self-published authors at that time and felt terrible about myself for doing it, like I was a failure and this was a vanity project. 

We did the bare minimum and published them in 2010 and 2012, without an editor or interior or cover designer or marketing and publicity, just us. I put them on my Facebook page and appeared on one or two ballet blogs. To our shock, those books sold over 10,000 copies in the years that followed. So we discovered there was a real market for ballet fiction for teens, and there was hardly anything in the category.

Several years of failed IVF followed, and then, twins and two other babies. I kept writing by blogging for my local independent bookstore and went back to teaching ballet. 

During COVID-19, I started writing fiction again in earnest. That took me into several years of agent querying and writer’s conferences. I tried my hand at adult fiction and also wrote another ballet novel, this one for middle-grade readers. After two years of looking for an agent and hearing that ballet was too niche of a subject, my husband and I decided I knew enough and believed in my projects enough to invest in my work as a business. We started our own publishing company, Rhododendron Press.

Lauren in the Limelight is our debut title hitting shelves this fall, and we’ll be publishing new editions of my old novels, Girl in Motion and Girl on Pointe (previously titled Breaking Pointe) under the umbrella of Rhododendron Press. I’ve completely revised and improved them (20 more years of life experience and learning the craft of writing has given me a new perspective on those stories), and this time, they’ll be edited and designed with brand new covers and interiors, and a new author’s note. I have a very special person/dancer who will be on the new covers: Sarah-Gabrielle Ryan at Pacific Northwest Ballet. I’m so excited to have her involved.

The road to publication feels like a lifetime journey. There were so many times I wondered what I was doing and why, and it is now only just starting to become clear that it was all an education that led me to where I am now.

 

 

TFTL: What was it like for you to leave ballet behind and start fresh in a completely different field? Have you always been drawn to the world of writing and literature? Or was this brand new territory for you?  

ML: Ballet was my entire world since I was a child, and especially in my teens. Leaving was a shock. I’m sure you can relate, Kate, as ballet requires the same kind of exclusive focus as professional-level musical training. Ballet was an essential part of my identity, not just something I did. During the four years I danced with Miami City Ballet, we danced about 8 hours a day, 6 days a week. I was very depressed when I left because I wasn’t sure who I was when dance wasn’t part of the equation. Over time, I developed a sense of excitement and possibility the further I ventured from that identity. Building up the courage to go out of my comfort zone took a long time.

As far as your question about my background in writing and literature, the answer is yes, absolutely. I read constantly as a kid, often inappropriate things past bedtime, under the covers with a flashlight. I’m talking Stephen King and Flowers in the Attic at about thirteen years old. English was my favorite class at school and I was always writing stories. Even when I was dancing professionally, the only thing I seriously ventured into outside of ballet were a few writing classes. I kept a journal for years. 

As I mentioned before, at Stanford, I quit premed and switched my major from Human Biology to English Literature. One of the reasons that happened (there were a few), is that I’d started writing a very popular sex column for The Stanford Daily. It was under a pseudonym (it still is) but I had a close friend who knew I was the author and she kept insisting I was missing my calling (Ha!). She helped connect me to my first internship in publishing at Simon & Schuster. My first summer there, I was in heaven. I’d always thought ballet was my primary focus, but when I think back on it, writing and literature was probably lurking even deeper in my coming of age.

That publishing internship challenged everything I knew about reading, and taught me to reach farther and read wider than I ever had before. In school you read what’s assigned to you, and then if you do have leisure time, you usually read a book a friend recommends or something that sort of falls in your lap. In college, I read Austen, Melville, Woolf–all the stuff you’re supposed to read. But once I entered the business of publishing, I had to read current fiction and nonfiction, form my own confident opinions, and be able to hold my own in industry conversations. My brain had no choice but to expand beyond my comfort zone. 

 

TFTL: What was it like to be an a-typical student at Stanford? 

ML: The age thing was difficult. I felt so much older than the undergrads and had such a different life experience. I’d also been out of school for years, and even after a year at the University of Utah, my academics were rusty. My first year in a transfer dorm, I had a roommate five years younger than me and the bathroom was down the hall. After having my own apartment, income, and professional reputation, the entire experience was humbling. 

The other thing that’s terrible and wonderful about Stanford is that everyone who goes there is already extraordinary. So while I may have been unique having been a professional dancer, the kids around me won Olympic medals, founded their own startups, and published groundbreaking academic papers. As dancers, it’s easy to become so immersed in your own world that you forget how amazing non-dancers are. With that Stanford peer group, I saw myself in a completely different way.

I was lucky that the year I came to Stanford, there were two other women who had danced in ballet companies that transferred in as older students. My academics were excellent, but I believe my ballet life is why Stanford accepted me. The admissions committee there has a deep respect for dancers and they could see the value in what I and the other professional dancers accomplished. Those other women became lifelong friends and were a huge support through that transition.

 

 

TFTL: Aside from the obvious story material, how has your professional training as a dancer helped your writing career? 

ML: Now that I’m a dance teacher and a mom, the benefits of dance training are glaringly clear. All of my kids take ballet at the Pacific Northwest Ballet School, not because I want them to become professional dancers, but because I want them to gain the life skills I did. Here are some of the things I learned how to do as a dancer that turned out to be essential for writing and publishing a book:

  1. Don’t quit. Take breaks, be gentle on yourself when you need to, but the people who succeed don’t give up. Keep walking down the path until you get there, even if it’s long.
  2. Be willing to do the work and put in the energy. I mean REALLY put in the energy, daily. 
  3. Be a perfectionist. Clean and clean and clean. I can’t tell you how many times I read through, edited, and polished my manuscripts, and that’s because I did pliés and tendus at the barre every day for decades. Same step, but you’re a different artist in progress every time you revisit what you’re trying to perfect.

 

TFTL: You have 4 young kids at home. How do you find time for your writing work? Did you ever (or do you still?) struggle to find the balance between wanting to be with the kids, and wanting to work? How have you navigated that? 

ML: Every time someone asks me how I do it, I say, “Minute to minute. Also, I don’t have a choice, I got myself into this!” I write whenever I can find time to write, and I don’t dilly-dally when the opportunities come. There have been seasons I couldn’t write at all, especially when I had little babies and couldn’t sleep or think. But I always came back to it. I try to get up at least an hour before the kids do to get some writing done, but that goes in waves. Sometimes I’m just too tired, or they decide to get up when I do despite my best efforts to sneak around. 

I try to think of my life in seasons when I feel that struggle of wanting to work and wanting to be with the kids. There are long periods of time when my life is all about the kids, and then the schedules will upend and I have periods where I’m all about my work. I love that at this age all my kids dance, so going to ballet class is often a family affair. 

I do wish I had more time to just be with my husband though. We are total partners in running our crazy ship, but he has a huge job too, and often we are both too busy to sit down and have the time we want together. He’s my favorite person in the world and I couldn’t do all the things I do without him. We both hope there will be a time when the kids are older that we can travel together. Like I said, it all seems to happen in seasons.

 

 

TFTL: Your messaging resonates with young dancers and professionals alike. What are you talking about that no one else has been saying in this space? 

ML: If I had a dollar for every time my kids said, “Mom, what are you talking about?” I’d be rich. What AM I talking about? 

In the books I’ve written so far, I’m writing for my younger self, my ballet students, and my kids. Many ballet kids I know (myself included) get into a mindset that no one understands their world and what they’re trying to do, because historically, the ballet world is exclusive and opaque. I wanted characters and stories that would make kids who are passionate about a particular activity feel seen. 

When I joined Miami City Ballet, I often thought, why didn’t anyone tell me what this is really like? In particular, all the feelings, and social and political dynamics. What you find in the dance section at bookstores is mostly nonfiction, memoirs of famous dancers whose experiences are rare and not the norm, histories of the art form, or manuals or stories of the great ballets. 

Fiction and movies about tween and teen and younger professional ballet dancers, serious dancers, is rare. I can count on two hands the books and movies in that space, and many of them are sensationalized and focused on the negative aspects of the ballet world.

So what am I talking about in my books? I’m talking about individual characters navigating the intense and professional track of a ballet dancer. I want readers to watch how they deal with the struggles, failures, and triumphs, and use the lessons my characters learn to figure out their place in the world. After so many years in dance, I feel a responsibility to bring the community of people who love ballet together around the positive aspects of our art form. My hope is that my books will open conversations about the way the ballet world works and help us make the dance culture more inclusive, empathetic, and welcoming.

 

TFTL: You still teach dance (in all your spare time!) What do you love about teaching adult beginners?

ML: I do! I love my job and all the ages that I teach, but the adult dancers hold a special place in my heart. They’re the students who show up purely because they want to, for themselves (which is also why I’m there). Dancing with adults is very different than with kids, who are in the process of figuring out their why. My adult students are also very much a community of like-minded individuals, and I get to see them at their best selves in the studio, with the distractions and stresses of life put aside so we can all be in the moment. The adult students are very much my community and a connection I cherish.

 

TFTL: What 3 thoughts, habits, or behaviors have helped you the most in getting to where you are today? 

ML: 1) Do a little bit every day.

2) Lean into love and friendship: adjust each other’s crowns.

3) Remind yourself that the naysayers don’t understand your mission, but you      

do.

 

 

TFTL: What is the best piece of advice someone has given you? 

ML: My adviser at Stanford, Seth Lerer, gave me the best piece of advice. I’ve done Stanford alumni interviews for the past decade, and I always pass what he said on to the high school seniors. He told me to get up close with the people I aspire to be like. At the time, he meant to choose my classes based on whether a full professor and expert in the field was teaching, rather than the subject. But I’ve used that concept as a guiding light throughout my professional career. I often asked to work for people and at places where I wanted to be. They didn’t always work out, but because I tried to make active choices about who I put myself next to, I learned many skills from the best in several fields. 

I actually received that same advice long before college, now that I think about it. When I still lived at home in Salt Lake City, a family friend set me up on a phone call with a soloist at New York City Ballet named Miriam Mahdaviani (I guess he thought we had the name thing in common). I was fifteen and wondering what direction I should go with my ballet training. She flat out said that if I wanted to be a professional, I should go straight to the top of the field and get myself to New York. I took her advice to heart and the next school year I moved to New York to train year-round at the School of American Ballet. That decision changed the entire course of my life.

 

TFTL: What is the worst? 

ML: Someone told me I should make my own baby food. Obviously that person never had twins.

 

TFTL: You created your own publishing house! Can you tell us a bit about that? How did it come about? 

ML: Oh, boy. Yes, I did, and I haven’t fully digested the implications or how I made it here. You know that saying, if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself? A famous editor told me at a juried writer’s conference that no one was waiting for my book. He was right! The person who was waiting for my book was me. The upshot is, after two decades of rejection from agents and editors in the publishing industry, I reached an age where I had acquired enough knowledge and insight into the way books are made and sold that I knew what had to be done. Same thing with the ballet industry. I knew my earlier books sold. I knew why I was writing them and who they were for. I knew they would mean something to my students. 

I’m lucky to have a partner who said he was tired of watching me taking in all this rejection and letting other people decide how I should feel about myself. I also had an adult student who asked me what I was so afraid of, and that shook me up. 

Getting older, watching my kids grow up fast, facing health scares, losing people I love–it’s all part of middle age. But it also is a true coming of age and the realization that you have one life and you better go whole hog so you don’t have regrets.

 

TFTL: What is your favorite thing about being a writer? What is the hardest? 

ML: Two favorite things:  1) I love creating something out of nothing. Any creative person takes great joy in that process. 2) The same reason I loved performing as a dancer: I love connecting with others by giving them a gift that makes their world more joyous and beautiful.  

Two hardest things: 1) Being a perfectionist and dealing with self-criticism. 2) Putting yourself out there and being vulnerable to criticism and rejection.

 

 

TFTL: Now that the book is out, what’s next for you? 

Besides mom and family duties and teaching, I’ve spent the last two years working on a new adult novel that’s less about ballet and more about high-stakes art. So that’s waiting for me, but mostly I want to spend time with my family and friends and keep teaching and dancing. Oh yes, one of my big goals in the next few years is to get back into taking ballet class regularly. With dance and writing, I enjoy the process, so that’s basically my goal, to continue the process with both. I just need to find the time…

 

TFTL: Where can people find you? 

Website: www.miriamlandis.com

https://www.facebook.com/MiriamWengerLandis/

https://www.instagram.com/mirlandis/

https://www.tiktok.com/@talking.ballet.and.books

https://www.youtube.com/@miriamlandis

https://twitter.com/MiriamLandis

 

TFTL: What is the best way for people to show their support for what you are doing? 

ML I’d be grateful for anyone who buys my books and posts reviews on Amazon, Goodreads, and on their social media. As a start-up indie publisher, it really does take a village. I’m incredibly grateful for community support.

You can get your own copy of Lauren in the Limelight right here

Thank you for having me, Kate! You’ve inspired me for over twenty years, since we met when you were at New World Symphony and I was at Miami City Ballet. Your friendship has been a gift. Let’s adjust each other’s crowns when we’re a hundred years old, OK?

TFTL: Ditto, my friend! and you got it. I’m honored to be on your crown-adjusting team 😉

Kate x

Interested in a few top tips on how to take your career as an artist from Good to Great? Grab a copy of my free workbook “10 Habits of Successful Artists” or sign up for my weekly Friday newsletter: The Weekend List.

 

Taking a Chance on Yourself: How I transformed my life (and my finances) over the last 7 years

 

Last week I had the pleasure of hosting my four-day mini-event, Thrive Fest ‘23: Planning for Optimal Impact, and we talked a lot about you can use this year to FINALLY launch some of your dream projects. A few of the things I kept hearing over and over were “I don’t know where to start. I’m terrified. I’m scared. I’ve been wanting to do this for so long, and I just keep putting it off. It’s never the right time. It’s been a dream for so long, it’s gathering dust.” 

And it occurred to me how we often have these big goals and dream projects that on the one hand are so obviously brilliant and life-changing, and on the other hand, just get pushed off over and over until they eventually get filed away under “someday” in the shadow of our lives. 

 

Photo by Maksym Kaharlytskyi for Unsplash

 

This was me 7 years ago. Freelancing in Boston. I had great work, great friends, a great condo. I was very happy with my life. BUT…..I also felt like there were things left undone. I felt like I had more to give, and I felt like I couldn’t give it from my current circumstances. 

 

As cheesy as it is, I’ve always loved the analogy that change is like the bud of a flower. First, all is well. The bud forms, and there is magic brewing underneath, safe and sound–protected from the outside world.  At some point, the pain and tightness of it all is too much, and the petals burst out for all the world to see. Rain be damned. And what a show it puts on when it opens! Color, beauty, a wonderful scent, providing pollen for the insects that allow food to grow, and enjoyment for everyone who witnesses it. 

 

Magic. 

 

Photo by Josh Calabrese for Unsplash

 

It’s exactly how I felt 7 years ago. In August of 2016. I had quit my full(ish) time job at a school and cut back my freelancing work to just 2 ensembles that I loved working with. I then spent FOUR years trying to figure things out on my own. I read every book, listened to every podcast, and tried to soak up as much information as I could. I worked with musician coaches who didn’t know much about business skills, and I worked with business coaches who didn’t know anything about the Arts. I spent countless hours and energy attempting to translate one to the other. 

I did quite a lot over those four years–started this blog, learned how to book concerts and network a bit, got onto a few podcasts (mostly podcasts that my friends had started), and built a website. 

 

BUT IT WAS PAINFULLY SLOW and the truth was, that I wasn’t sure how to take things any further. 

 

It wasn’t until the late fall of 2019 that I found a coach who was equally at home talking about the arts and business skills. Finally! Someone who understood me. In that environment, with peers who were also musicians, I was able to really grow. No more having to translate everything. The program was more money than I had ever spent on anything but my wedding. In fact, it was almost as much as my wedding was (don’t worry, it was a small wedding!) 

As difficult as it was for me to decide to spend that kind of money on myself for something that wasn’t even guaranteed, I took a deep breath, signed the contract, and sent in my deposit. 

 

(6 months later I had 10x that investment with new project income). 

 

Most importantly though, the combination of pride in my work, my inner competitiveness, and the accountability of the group was what sped up the process. 

 

The accountability and Support of a group program are Key.

 

 

Imagine if you had tried to learn your craft by yourself. Maybe you’re a writer and you decide you want to write a novel. You work, slowly, bit by bit. Maybe you intend to write the next chapter this week. Maybe you sketch out a few paragraphs of it and then put it off another week. 

Now imagine you’re in a writing circle, and if you committed to reading the next chapter at next week’s meeting? You’re going to write the chapter. 

For my musician friends here, remember studio class? You wouldn’t DARE show up unprepared in front of your peers. You’d practice a ton so that you could play your best. 

But if you had just tried to learn an instrument on your own. Maybe you’ll practice this week, maybe you won’t. Who cares? No one is listening to you anyway. 

 

Me, hitting my stride.

 

So 2020 is when I hit my stride. I started the Virtual Summer Cello Festival. Then the Bridge Online Cello Studio started,  and I also started taking on 1:1 clients. Then I started my 10-week “business for musicians” course, Profit Pivot, and it all took off from there. 

I’ve rarely talked about the financial implications of all of this. Back in 2021, while most of my colleagues and friends had been out of work for months and were struggling. REALLY struggling–both financially and emotionally, it would have been completely tone-deaf of me to flaunt the fact that I had just had my highest earning year ever. And by a lot. 

 

But I also wanted to get the message out that I could help them create projects that would do the same for them. 

The courage it took to step out of my same-old, same-old routine brought the confidence I had been waiting for, the projects I took on brought more fulfillment and satisfaction than I had ever known, and slowly I began to shed the work that wasn’t bringing me as much satisfaction. 

 

 

My life this year looks wildly different than it did in 2016 when I started on this road. For me, it so happens that I decided to leave my performance career behind, and now I have decided to leave my cello teaching behind. Both of those in order to focus on my writing and on my coaching. Helping my clients navigate that process of opening up and blossoming into their true potential means that new projects and programs are being created. New generations of artists, dancers, musicians, and writers are getting new opportunities to grow because of the work my clients are doing. 

And I am able to create new projects of my own, I even have time to do the kind of volunteer work I’ve always wanted to do! I have been able to create the exact life I’ve always wanted for myself. Living in a warm, beautiful place on the water (Hello, Bermuda!) I have evenings and weekends free (because that’s what I want–not because that way is better!) and I have the flexibility to work from anywhere. 

We are able to buy what we need, travel when and how we want, and take very good care of ourselves. No more stopping at a McDonald’s drive-through at 11 pm on my way home from a concert because I hadn’t had time to eat between the gazillion freelance jobs and teaching I had that day. 

 

Life in Bermuda

 

So I’m not here saying, Look at me! You, too, can quit your art, move to an island, start coaching, and become a bestselling author! 

But what I am saying is: Look at me! I followed my gut. Put myself in the right environment with the right mentor and the right kind of support. Found some courage to actually start doing the things I had always wanted to do, and am now living my dream life.  

 

SO CAN YOU.  

 

Follow your gut. if your ideas keep coming back to you, keep tapping you on your shoulder, whispering in your ear “Hi there, are we doing this or what?” then that means they are GOOD IDEAS.  Trust them. 

Find the right environment. Maybe that’s my Creatives Leadership Academy, or maybe it’s a different program. Only you know.  (psst. It’s probably CLA though 😉  Find it, and make the investment in yourself––you’ll soon be laughing at how quickly you recouped the money. 

Flex your courage muscle. It feels just like diving off the high dive did the first time, I know, but it’ll be just as rewarding, and like that diving board, it gets easier (and more fun) every time you do it. 

Start living your dream life.

Don’t leave it there in that dusty file cabinet of “Someday.”

 

Cheers, 

Kate

 

P.S. Do you have an idea for a creative project, program, or large-scale event, that you’d love to get out into the world, but need some guidance, support, and accountability in order to make it actually happen? Let’s hop on a call and see if Creatives Leadership Academy would be a good fit for you. You can book a free, casual, 30-minute chat with me right here–but don’t delay, the doors to this year’s CLA enrollment will be ending soon! 

The 3 Big Myths That Are Holding You Back

 

About 6 months ago, I was invited to be a contributing author for a book about female entrepreneurs. Although my own full-length book was already in the works, Business on Purpose would be fast-tracked and would mark my debut as an Author (capital “A” and everything). I’ve been writing this blog since 2016, but I always felt that made me a “writer.” It would take the process of having my work raked through the coals by a professional editor, and chosen by an actual publisher in order for me to be deemed a proper Author.

It’s something I’ve always wanted.

And it’s something I never thought I would do.

I was too busy believing The 3 Big Myths

 

 

You know the ones. They’re the lies that we’ve been sold our entire lives. Either by design or by default, they’ve been handed down, generation after generation to each and every one of us, but it seems they hit artists and creatives hardest of all.

These are the 3 Big Myths that hold us back from moving forward with our ideas. Keep us doing the same old thing, year after year, and they are the myths that stop us from having the careers we dream of, mute our voices, and make our lives feel “stuck”.

They stem from imposter syndrome: negative internal thoughts we make up ourselves to protect us from risk but are also reinforced externally; we hear them repeated by those around us. They can be especially brutal in the Arts world, spoken by our teachers and mentors who are so inextricably linked to us that if we make a career faux pas, it reflects poorly on them.

 

Or so we all think.

 

 

Nevertheless, it is in everybody’s interest that we see them for the lies they are and break free of their intense hold on us, so here they are, in all their bastardly glory:

 

The 3 Big Myths:

 

#1. If your idea was so good, someone would have done it already.

 

#2. If your voice was so respected, someone would have asked for it by now.

 

#3. Whatever career you have, is the one you have been deemed “good enough” to have. If you self-select for something different, people will laugh at you.

 

Sound familiar? I think one of these 3 (or a variation of them) has been uttered in every call I have ever had with a prospective client. It’s my job to help them bust through them.

Let’s do a little myth-busting today, shall we?

 

#1. If your idea was so good, someone would have done it already.

Maybe they have! Joseph Campbell’s idea of the Hero’s Journey was an iconically good idea, and guess what? EVERY STORY USES IT. (Even the ones before he started talking about it)

Maybe they haven’t! When I started the Virtual Summer Cello Festival, it was the first of its kind! Were the powers that be at the big conservatories sitting around their Zoom rooms having similar ideas? Maybe—but they didn’t do it, did they? Not until much later.

Myth-Busting Statement: It doesn’t matter if someone else has already tried your idea because you will bring a unique voice to it, and YOUR version just might become the iconic one. And it’s not necessarily the case that someone would have “done it” already. Maybe all of the people who had the same idea chickened out—just like you’re in danger of doing? I’m so proud that VSCF became a “proof of concept” for so many awesome virtual music festivals to come. And it wouldn’t have happened at all if I had succumbed to Myth #1.

 

2. If your voice was so highly respected, someone would have asked for it by now.

 

This is a lesson I had to learn a couple of times over. The first time was when I was starting to break out of the freelance scene and concertize more. After months of staring at my phone wondering WHEN people were going to start booking me, I realized that most presenters don’t take it upon themselves to seek out artists for their upcoming season. They’re sent pitches and they choose from what they get. Podcasts run a similar way, and that was the 2nd time I learned this lesson. I remember listening to guest interviews on my favorite podcasts, dreaming of a day when they would seek ME out—desperate to introduce me to their audience!  That’s how I’ll know I’m making a difference, I thought!

HA! Numerous pitch emails, and numerous guest spots later, I can assure you. You just have to find the right fit,  raise your hand, and say “I think I could bring an interesting conversation to your audience.”

Myth-Busting Statement: More often than not, the decision-makers of the world are choosing from amongst the people who have raised their hands. If you never raise your hand, you will never be chosen–no matter how good you are. So raise your hand. Start the concert series. Create that community initiative. Write the post. Whatever it is you want to do, just raise your hand by doing it!

 

3. Whatever career you have, is the one you have been deemed “good enough” to have. If you self-select for something different, people will laugh at you.

 

It’s easy to see why this one is so prevalent in the Arts. From a young age, we are used to being told which doors are open to us. Our teacher told us when we were ready for the next level dance class. We successfully auditioned for the next youth orchestra, our teacher chose our essay to represent the school in the regional contest. And, I hear this A LOT: If your teacher didn’t choose you, then it meant you weren’t good enough. As an adult, we see the holes in that argument. Just because a teacher had to choose 1 student, it doesn’t mean there weren’t many they could have chosen. When we’re growing up, sometimes life really is a Zero-sum game. There can only be one and if it’s someone else, it’s not going to be you.

We spend the first 20+ years as artists being ranked, and it’s really hard to understand that after a certain point, assuming you have amassed a certain level of professional skill, you get to choose for yourself. Sure, we might have mentors who pass our names along, and that’s wonderful! But it’s not the only way things are done. It’s not like you’re not allowed to set your eyes on the prize and go for it.

As far as the “people will laugh at me” bit? Yeah, maybe some will. But when people around you criticize your intentions, it has more to do with their own fears and doubts about themselves and nothing to do with you. It’s the classic tale of the drinking buddies who don’t want you to get sober because they don’t think they can, or the crabs in a bucket who instinctively pull a would-be escapee near the rim back to the bottom of the bucket.

 

Yeah–they do that.  Weird, huh?

 

Myth-Busting Statement: There is only one person in the world who can decide the kind of career you should have, and it’s YOU. No one else gets a say. Not an external tribunal of higher-ups, not your colleagues, not your friends, no one. In other words, if you don’t have the kind of career you want to have? It’s no one’s fault but your own.

 

Photo by Daniel Hooper for Unsplash

 

I often talk about the “Jealousy Scroll” as a good way to help you get out of a rut. And I stand by it—just open up the social media app of your choice, and take note of which accounts make you jealous. What are they doing that you want to be doing? What do they have that you would like to see in your life?

If you can start there, and then get through those 3 BIG Myths to believe that you COULD try out your idea–even if someone has just done something similar. If you can find the courage to raise your hand, and the boldness within you to decide for yourself what you want, and ignore any negativity around you, then you will be on your way.

Want a little hand-holding through the process? If you’re reading this in real-time, Come to my annual Thrive Fest event happening next week-September 12-15th .“Planning For Optimal Impact” is a 4-day mini-workshop that will help you answer those questions, clarify what it is you want, and where and how to start raising your hand.

 

It’s the only way to work with me for free, and my goal is to give you some serious wins. Register Here.

Cheers,

Kate

 

Oh! And that book I was asked to contribute to? It was released today! If you want to check it out, you can find it right here! All profits from the Kindle version of Business On Purpose Vol 2 will be donated to Convoy of Hope. They provide humanitarian and disaster relief aid around the world, and more than 90% of donated funds go directly to support communities in need.

I’d be so grateful if you could give it a like on my socials, and if you read it, take a couple of minutes to leave a review–it helps so much! Thanks!

 

Here she is! Book Baby #1

How to Reinvent Yourself This Year

 

 

This year, my life is going to look wildly different than any other, and I’m so excited. 

September starts this week, and with it, a brand new season. Whether you are a musician, an actor, an artist, a student, or a parent, September is the beginning of a new year for us–almost more so than January 1st. 

I remember, as a young girl who didn’t always have the easiest time of things socially, I would dream of having a brand new fall wardrobe that would match that of my schoolmates. Cute jeans and cozy fall sweaters, and those clothes would guarantee that THAT year would be different. I would be a whole new person. 

 

 

It didn’t ever quite happen that way. There was no new fall wardrobe, and no new me. 

 

And yet, I continued to bring that sense of possibility and excitement with me into each new September––through high school, music school, and the early years of my career.  Would this be the season that my big break came? That I’d be asked to play with the group? The chamber ensemble? Invited to go on that tour? Etc. 

And each year I would wait by the proverbial (and often literal) phone waiting for those opportunities to arrive. 

 

Sometimes they did! Sometimes they didn’t. 

 

It wasn’t until the fall of 2015 that I figured out that if we want our lives to look any different than they do, it’s up to us to instigate those changes. Sure…life will throw the random unexpected opportunity our way now and again, but if we depend on those moments to shape our lives, we’re giving up any and all sense of autonomy in our lives. 

 

Have you been waiting for the phone to ring?

 

You’ll reach the end and realize you never did the things YOU wanted to do. 

 

Ever since that fateful autumn, I have taken a moment at the end of each summer to ask myself this one question: 

 

If I could completely reinvent myself, and show up this year as the person I truly want to be, what would that look like? 

 

This year, it looks like me as a writer, a coach, and a businesswoman. For the first time, I am not a cellist, nor am I a cello teacher. I don’t have to carve out time to practice, or cut my nails, nor do I have to watch the clock and wrap up my coaching and writing work in time to start teaching each afternoon. 

And as this new version of me is emerging, a week from tomorrow, my first book is being released! It’s not my BOOK, book, but it still feels like a big deal to me. It’s a book called Business on Purpose, and I was asked to contribute a chapter to it. My chapter is titled “Permission to Pivot

How apropos. 

And whether you’re feeling the need to pivot ever-so-slightly in your career, or change course entirely, this is a great time to check in about that and make a plan. 

 

 

Here’s how: 

 

Step 1: Do a quick assessment of your current situation

Asses what you love about what you’re doing, and what you don’t love so much. What things would you like to change if you could? What would you add? subtract? etc. 

 

Step 2: Get in touch with how you want to feel as you move through this year.

Are you in a season of hibernating and feeling cozy as you figure out your next best steps? Do you want to feel powerful and visible as you rise higher in your field, gaining recognition for the brilliant work you’ve been doing? Who do you want to be, and how do you want to be seen?

 

Step 3: Get clear on your schedule and commitments over the next 3-6 months. 

This includes all work commitments, personal commitments, vacations, and family obligations.

 

Step 4: Make a plan for being as prepared as possible for those commitments. 

How much preparation time do you need to put in? do you need to order gifts for upcoming birthdays, weddings, or showers? do you need to book venues? Just because something is happening in October, doesn’t mean you don’t need to be working on it in September!

 

Step 5: Figure out what you need to have in place in order to get where you’d like to go this year.

A better instrument? A space of your own? Certain connections or collaborators? Skills that you don’t yet have? Knowledge that you don’t yet have? 

 

Step 6: Decide what new things you want to make room in your non-work life for this year.

Date nights with your partner? A daily yoga practice? A new wardrobe?

 

Step 7: Find ways to represent this new, reinvented version of yourself.

It could be an outward change like a new haircut, a new way of dressing, or like me, the manicured nails of a non-musician. Or they could be more subtle and only known to you. A meaningful piece of jewelry, a beautiful pen or a leather-bound journal. 

 

 

 

Your Best Next Step: 

Whether you are looking to do a big reinvention of yourself or your career, or you just want to prepare yourself to have the most incredible year ever, I’m hosting a free 4-day online event September 12th-15th Called Thrive Fest! Planning for Optimal Impact. 

If you register, (it’s free, as these Thrive Fests always are) you’ll get an email each morning with the day’s mini-lesson and 1-3 short exercises to complete that day. At 1:00 pm ET, I’ll be live in the Tales From The Lane FB group for a discussion, and my own take on the day’s prompts (Yep! I’ll be doing it right along with you, and you’ll get a behind-the-scenes look at my own process!). And on the last day, Friday, we’ll come together for a live, interactive training with me to put it all together. 

It’s going to be a blast, it’s going to be transformative, and it’s going to set you up to have the best year you’ve ever had. On your terms, doing the things YOU want to do, and making room for the things that are important to you. 

You’ll come away with a crystal clear plan for moving through these next 12 months, and you’ll feel like you’ve gotten back in the driver’s seat of your career. 

You can register HERE for free! 

See you there. Cheers!

Kate

P.S. Are you on The List yet? If you enjoyed this blog post and want more insider info on how to thrive as a creative, be sure you get on the list to receive my Friday “Weekend List.” Each one is loaded up with additional tips, tricks, and things to think about, including a new curated list of articles, books, podcasts, and things that I think you’d enjoy.  Click Here to Get the Weekend List! 

 

Ready…Set…WAIT!

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Kate. I just can’t do it.”

 

I didn’t panic. I’d heard this many times before. In fact, I’m pretty sure I’ve said it myself in the past. I knew what to do. 

In my coaching work with creative high-performers, I have noticed this phenomenon happen time and again. And, in observing it in my clients, I have also recognized the pattern in myself, and in most people around me. 

It’s a pattern of thoughts and behavior that gets in our way of pursuing a project. Of leaving it there on the table, gathering dust. 

You know the drill. You have this great idea–it’s the perfect thing, and you cannot wait to get started. You plan everything about it, maybe even tell a few close friends about it, and then…you stop. 

There are reasons, of course. EXTREMELY VALID ONES (you tell yourself)

  • It’s not the right time. 
  • It’s not QUITE the right thing
  • You’ve found something even better to do. 

 

This is where I call B.S. Because let’s be honest. We’re all adults here. It is never the right time. Life constantly throws things in our way. Sick kids, sick parents, sick ourselves. It’s a busy time with work, or it’s not a busy time with work, so you want to take a vacation. Any number of things can (and will, I promise) come up. 

And no–it’s not quite the right thing…yet. That’s why we need to do it the first time, to the best of our ability. The 2nd time you’ll keep what worked, and tweak the rest. And the third time gets even better. You can’t improve on something that doesn’t exist. 

And about that other “better” idea? Great! Isn’t it awesome to have multiple great ideas coming at you? But I’ve seen people get caught in this trap. Always chasing the shiny new object, but never getting anything off the ground. A year goes by and all they have are a bunch of dusty ideas sitting on the table in front of them. No cool project that they can add to their resume, no added income, and no opportunities given to the people they mean to be serving. 

The hardest part is not getting started, and it’s not executing and implementing the work once it’s out there. The hardest part by far, is the act of pressing that proverbial “Go” button and letting the idea out from the comfort and safety of your own little private world, into the inbox of the first person to need to contact about it. 

Photo by Green Chameleon for Unsplash.com

 

If I look at just the last 10 clients I’ve worked on projects with. The ideation? Easy. crafting the offer? I mean, rife with mental pitfalls, but it gets done, making it all nice and shiny, figuring out details, and loading it up into a perfectly written email? Sure, there are conversations about compelling copy, word choice, there’s some discussion about best length, etc. But overall, not a problem. 

And when things have been put into motion, and they have their team, collaborators, students, or they’re in launch mode, having calls, enrolling people into their programs, or setting up concerts; Whatever the doing of their project requires, that part is all fine. But between that first well-crafted email and the project itself lies one seemingly impossible task. 

 

 

We see this same phenomenon in other aspects of our life as well: 

Starting a new workout plan: 

Buying new exercise gear—easy! fun! 

Working out–feels great. We’re full of pride, endorphins are pumping

But getting yourself out the door and to the gym?—-utter anguish. 

 

Making a big decision: 

Laying options out on the table–exciting! inspiring!

Moving forward with your chosen idea–feeling focused, productive, and content

But deciding which one to go with? Absolute torture. 

 

Why is it so hard? 

 

The beginning phase–the ideation phase is full of internal validation. We know it’s a good idea and that feels good. Imagining it all coming to light is exciting. 

The end phase–the doing phase is full of external validation. When people sign up for the program, enroll in your festival, purchase tickets for your event, etc. We get that dopamine hit every time someone else says “Yes! I love it” 

That all-important middle phase–the act of pressing “Go”, however,  is full of question marks. 

  • What if it’s not good enough?
  • What if people don’t like it?  
  • What if they think I’m an idiot? 

 

Like at the starting line of a race. There is no going back. Like playing the very first note of a performance. Once you make that first sound, you just keep going until the last. 

We put so much pressure on what people will think. Worried that the internal validation we have given our idea won’t be matched by the big, bad, outside world. 

 

One solution is this: Make room in your mind for this duality: 

Your idea is the most important thing in the world. If you don’t do it, humanity will never be as great as it could have been. The world needs you to do this. 

And, at the same time…

Your idea is the least important thing in the world. If no one likes it, or wants it, no big deal, you’ll just move on to the next thing. No one will even remember your email an hour from now. 

 

Important enough that you MUST send it. Unimportant enough that if they’re not interested, there will be zero repercussions to you, your reputation, or your life. 

 

The 2nd solution is the one I use with my clients until they have mastered the first one. I literally (okay, virtually) sit there until they hit send. 

And that’s what I did with my client the other day. 

“I’m right here, at my desk, literally waiting for you to hit send. Voxer me when you’ve done it.”

A few seconds passed. 

“DAMN YOU!” appeared in a text from my client.

And then, after a few minutes…

“OMG, DONE!!!!!!!!!” and so many emojis of happy faces, trophies, check marks, and tiaras. 

And I smiled. Because their project is SO GOOD, and I knew the recipients of those emails were going to read it, and think the same thing. And I knew that in a matter of weeks, she would be deep into the “doing” of the project. Basking in the satisfaction of having pulled it together, and the awe that something this life-changing can come from just one tiny, seemingly harmless little idea. 

Friends, what are you waiting on? What great things are sitting there gathering dust, waiting for you to muster the strength and fortitude to hit “Go!”? 

Because I’m sitting here, waiting for you to hit “send”. Let me know when you’ve done it, or if you need a little boost. 

Cheers, 

Kate

 

P.S. If you need help pressing “Go” on your best ideas, or if you want some support and guidance on how to get those ideas out into the world, let’s chat. I offer a free, no-pressure 30-minute call to any of my readers.  I love hearing about what you guys are up to, and I’m happy to give you any thoughts and guidance I can–whether or not that includes a future coaching partnership. Book a call by clicking here. 

Photo by Sydney Rae for Unsplash

 

Are Toxic Beliefs Holding You Back?

Richard Koch, who wrote The 80/20 Principal (great book, btw!) about how 80% of one’s results in both business and life come from 20% of their efforts, is about to come out with a new one called 80/20 Beliefs. Similar concept: That 80% of your actions in life come from 20% of your beliefs. So you’d better make sure you truly believe those beliefs.

In it, he asks the question: Have you ever held a strong belief about something that you have since decided was not serving you? The answer for me was yes. Absolutely. Many. and then I realized that most of those beliefs were about my life in relation to the cello:

I love classical music, so I should become a professional musician.

If I don’t practice my craft every single day, I am a worthless piece of shit who doesn’t deserve to perform. 

We have the career that other people give us.

Making art at the highest level possible is more important than anything—certainly money, and relationships too–because if a person doesn’t care about the music as much as you do, they aren’t worth your time.

If you’re not depressed, difficult, or tortured in some way, you will never be a great artist. 

Only important people at important institutions can create industry-changing projects and initiatives. Not your standard freelancing musician. 

And the kicker: 

 

I will be a cellist forever. I will never do or want to do anything else for as long as I live. 

 

These beliefs were held by everyone around me. We grew up with them. They were passed down from one generation of musicians to the next. These beliefs were handed down to us from J.S. Bach himself, people! 

But at some point, somehow (and I credit my classic Gen X upbringing. A Latch Key Kid with babysitting income–basically had to raise myself. Hell, I even had to *gasp* do my own homework!–I’m looking at you Gen Z 😉 

 

 

Anyway, I guess some of that independence found its way into my belief systems, and they started to crack. The first to go was that I began to refuse to be “tortured” I wanted to be happy, and I was pretty sure that being happy wouldn’t REALLY get in the way of my being a good cellist. 

Then I decided that having a healthy relationship, paying my mortgage, and being a happy and satisfied human being WERE important parts of life. 

Then I started to understand that maybe taking some time away from the instrument not only didn’t get in my way but actually made me a BETTER musician. Whoa.  mindblown. I took a month off and went to Morocco to work in an orphanage. No one knew I was a musician. It was glorious. 

 

And so, one by one, those long-held beliefs started to get questioned. The last one standing was the one I have just blasted through, and it seems to be the one my colleagues want to know every detail about. 

 

We don’t necessarily have to do this forever. You might want to–and that’s great! I have had many mentors throughout my career who were as passionate and dedicated to their craft on the day they died as they were when they were just starting out. That’s wonderful…for them. But what I have never heard spoken of is the idea that a career as a professional musician could be merely 1 chapter in a long book. 

Koch refers to them as toxic beliefs. It’s not that the belief itself is toxic, it’s that holding onto that belief NO MATTER WHAT can hold you back. 

I’ll be honest. When I decided to stop performing in order to write and coach more, I figured I just wasn’t as dedicated as my colleagues. I didn’t love it as much as they did (and I loved it a lot!) but the number of people who have emailed, DM’d called, and texted me to say something along the lines of  “Holy cow! I didn’t know we were allowed to just STOP!” told me that I wasn’t alone in that toxic belief. 

 

Fez, Morocco.

 

There’s an unspoken message about how much we have sacrificed to get here, and that it was a life-long calling. Something more valid and important than just some “job.” And of course, because it’s such a competitive field, if you’ve made it, why would you just give it up? 

Thankfully, I was able to override that belief, and instead took on a new belief “It’s my life, and I only have one, so I should spend it doing the things I want to.” 

Obviously, you’re not all musicians here, and obviously, there are all sorts of Toxic Beliefs that could be holding you back. Why, I bet you could think of 6 Toxic Beliefs before breakfast! 

How can you know? Here are a few steps: 

 

1. Question your regular actions

Why do I make my bed every day? Why do I belong to this club? Why do I have a glass of wine at the end of a long day? Just ask, and explore your own answers. 

 

2. Ask people around you

We can see the toxic beliefs that are holding other people back far more easily than we can see our own. (While you’re at it, ask them what they think you’re really good at, too. You might be surprised.)

 

3. Notice the things people around you do, say, or act upon that drive you crazy 

Why? What belief do you have that they are going against? It might be a perfectly good value-based belief that serves you well. But it might not be. I know someone who always criticized others for going on fancy vacations. She felt they were throwing their money away instead of spending it on more important things. It wasn’t until later in her life that she discovered the joy (and importance) of creating new memories and experiences through travel. 

 

4. Try turning your usual actions on their head 

You can start in small ways–no need to set fire to your life! Always hit the gym in the morning? What happens if you go in the evening? Take a different route to work. Do your hair differently. Pick something different on the menu next time. In other words, practice flexing the muscle that questions what you do and why you do it.

 

5. For every strong belief you hold, ask if the opposite could be true

To stick with my main example, above, if my original belief was “Classical music is a lifetime career. We don’t retire. We will do this until the day we die.” Then the opposite belief would be “Classical Music can be a temporary or part-time career. You can stop whenever you like and choose to do something different.” 

Is that true? As bizarre as it sounds to anyone raised in the classical music world, yes– technically, the latter belief IS true, isn’t it? And if your brain came up with the follow-up thought: “Yeah, but nobody DOES…” You, my friend, are not alone. 

 

 

When you start to question why you do the things you do, you will likely find very good and true answers to many, if not most of them. You go to the gym in the morning because that’s when it fits in best in your current schedule, or because you really love that 6 am yoga teacher’s class. 

But you might find some surprising things popping up as well. Values and Beliefs can be wonderful compass points for us, and can lead us down a path of a joyful life well-lived. Sometimes, though, a rigidly held belief can hold us back from that joyful, well-lived life, and I don’t want that for any of us. 

Happy detoxing, my friend!

Cheers, 

Kate

 

P.S. If this post struck a chord, and you’ve been trying to figure out how to step things up in your life or career (or both!), I’ve created a short but super helpful worksheet that has helped dozens of my clients find that much-needed clarity so that they can move forward toward their goals and begin to realize their true potential.  You can grab it here for free today.

How to Succeed at Everything the First Time

 

Think of something you have been doing since you were a kid. Maybe that’s performing, writing, telling stories. Maybe it’s a sport. 

Do you remember the very first time you did it?

Me neither. I played and performed on stage as a cellist so many times in my life that any memories of my First Time got washed away years ago. Knowing myself, I’m sure I was both excited and terrified. Even as a 5-year-old, I was concerned with “getting it wrong.”

Later, when I started touring and concertizing more, I made tons of rookie mistakes: Leaving things like water, rosin, and other things with my cello case downstairs in the green room. Have rosin caked on your strings between pieces? Too bad. Not enough time to head down then and grab that rag to wipe it off. So I learned to have a small bag that I could hold those essentials in and keep just off stage with me.  

I learned how much sleep I needed, what kind of day I should have, how much I should (or shouldn’t!) practice, and how much food to eat to not feel full and tired, but not be hungry and lightheaded either. 

My most recent cello performance day felt completely in my wheelhouse. I knew where to go, and where to park.  I knew my level of preparation and that my pianist and I had rehearsed thoroughly over the week. There weren’t a lot of unknowns, and there weren’t many moving parts. Show up, play, bow, go home. 

 

The Large-scale Summer Pops concert I helped to create with the Bermuda Philharmonic wasn’t like that. Not at all. 

 

 

No, this one was a big First Time and involved a giant tent and a crew of people to put it up and take it down. There’s the stage build with risers and platforms that we *hoped* we’d measured correctly but wouldn’t find out until the morning of the show. The food trucks, the ferries, THE WEATHER! 

If your name is Cindy, you were not my friend that week. Just saying. Cindy (as in, the tropical storm that was threatening to pay a visit) needed to stay far, far away. 

 

Apparently, I was told, you can’t control the weather. 

 

I wasn’t nervous about the performance part. I was conducting rather than playing the cello, and I was confident that I’d either do a competent enough job or that the players would know to ignore me and just do their thing. I was nervous about the other moving parts. The tent, the vendors, the will-call tables, the sound and lights, the after party.  I was worried about T.S. Cindy making an unwelcome appearance.  

But I thought back to the first time I planned a recital tour or the first time I took an orchestra on tour, and I remember planning my wedding (which, I had never done before.) I remember the first day of the 1st year of my Virtual Summer Cello Festival, and just thinking about those other “firsts” kept me calm and reminded me of the most important thing. 

 

Things Will Go Wrong. 

 

  • Like when I forgot to hit “publish” on a concert invitation and no one knew about it.
  • Like when the ferry that my tour group HAD to take in order to get from one end of the island to the other for our evening engagement broke down and wasn’t running.
  • Like when our wedding venue had been double booked with a fishing tournament and I only found out about it 3 days before.
  • Like when my assistant was so proud of the very.nice.hand-crafted.gift we were sending my VSCF faculty that she put a very.generous.amount on the customs forms and all the Europeans got pissed off at having to pay a ton of money in customs duty just to collect a gift they hadn’t asked for.

Things Will Go Wrong. Big things, little things. One thing, or many things. Nothing ever goes EXACTLY to plan. 

 

 

What matters more than keeping things from going wrong, is knowing that you have the ability to adapt, fix, adjust, and otherwise make it work regardless. 

 

  • Like finding a Kinko’s and making some quick posters and flyers to post around town, and getting on the local radio to announce the concert. 
  • Like getting the ferry guys to let all 50 of us onto the empty work ferry that was heading back to fix the broken one. 
  • Like switching over to a new (quite honestly nicer) wedding venue that the city then didn’t charge you for because they had made the scheduling error. 
  • Like apologizing and sending over the customs duty amount and getting them to laugh about the whole thing. Luckily, they did really like the gift, and they all eagerly came back the following year. 

 

I’m not sure there is a way to avoid that First Time feeling of ”OMG, I’ve never done this before. NO ONE has done this before! What if it all goes to shit?” But it helps to remember that it always works out. Somehow. And even when it doesn’t, there is always a way to make it work. To turn any First Time into a Success. 

 

In preparing for this Pops Concert (which, to most of you will sound like no big deal, but they don’t do those here–not in anyone’s recent memory anyway. So this was not only a first for me, but it was a first for everyone involved.) I needed to remember that this might be my first time doing a concert in a tent, but that tent company sets up tents every day. For them, it’s a simple solo recital. Show up, play, done. The vendors? This is what they do. 

The trick, you see, is to not allow the nerves of doing something for the first time to stop you from doing it at all. The “but I’ve never done anything like this before” mentality is about 2 thoughts away from “Who am I to try something like this.” which is the stop right before “I’m going to look like an idiot and people will laugh at me.” 

 

These are mental storms though–not actual storms and mental storms are NOT a valid reason to not do something. 

 

If you listen to and act upon those types of thoughts, elegantly called “Imposter Syndrome”, you will continue to live your life in safe, familiar, and predictable territory. But they will also keep you from trying new things, having adventures, making a difference, or having an impact on the world around you. You run the risk of regret, lost dreams, and a whole lot of “If I had only just…” 

And, as I constantly remind my clients as they push past their own imposter syndrome and do big amazing things, operating outside of our comfort zone is a muscle, and that muscle gets stronger the more you flex it. 

You can practice flexing that muscle in small ways. Order something new-to-you at a restaurant. Invite that new mom at the park who seems like she’d be a cool friend over for a coffee. Do something you’ve done before on a bigger scale. 

 

 

As for the Pops Concert? Well, the tropical storm dissipated and it was a glorious, picture-perfect day. Did things go wrong? Oh yes. The tent we had lined up fell through, and we had to scramble to get a new one (from a great company that we’re excited to work with again), the overseas musicians got caught in the United Airlines/Newark Airport Hell Week (but they eventually made it–with various amounts of their luggage) And a bunch of little things here and there went awry. The things you can’t plan for, but you figure them out in real-time. 

 

There’s even a bit of a thrill to that. 

 

But the event was an enormous success. We had about 100 more people than we expected, and the atmosphere was ebullient. The orchestra sounded great, and everyone is asking when the next one will be. 

I’m looking forward to the next one as well. All of those big unknowns are now known. The stage dimensions (they were correct!) the tent company, the transportation. All of those First Time things are proven concepts, and we just repeat what worked, and tweak what could have worked better. 

And most importantly, I have flexed both the muscle of Doing the Big.Scary.Thing, and the muscle of fixing what goes wrong. I have even more proof that we have the power and the strength to figure things out as they unfold. I do, and you do. 

So get out there and use those muscles, my friend!

Cheers, 

Kate

 

P.S. If this post struck a chord, and you’ve been trying to figure out how to step things up in your life or career (or both!), I’ve created a short but super helpful worksheet that has helped dozens of my clients find that much-needed clarity so that they can move forward toward their goals.  You can grab it here for free today.

 

Shedding a Long-Held Identity: My decision to stop teaching

I taught my first cello lesson when I was around 13 years old. It was a younger student of my cello teacher, whose parents were both busy professionals, and not at home to help him practice. They lived close to me, so Mrs. B gave them my phone number and told them to have me come over to work with their son 2 days a week. I ended up just becoming his babysitter, and I’d practice with him every day after school. 

Those mini-lessons lit something up inside me. Using what I had learned and struggled with, and finding ways to explain it to him so that he could do it (hopefully without the struggling part!) felt amazing to me. It gave me clarity over what I was doing in my own playing, and I could see the results in his improvement. 

 

I was hooked. 

 

I continued to teach throughout high school, and college, taught in community programs while I was at New World Symphony, and once I settled myself in Boston, I built a private studio, taught at a community music school, and also worked with students in the youth orchestra program. 

I always considered myself a performer first, but teaching was always a part of who I was and what I did. When people asked me what I did, I would answer “I’m a cellist.” and then if they followed up with  Do you teach? The answer would be “Yes–of course!”

 

It was almost as if being a teacher was who I was, and being a cellist was what I did. 

 

When I retired the identity of “Cellist” a year ago, the “Teacher” part didn’t end. I love my students and get so much enjoyment from working with them and following their successes. My favorite thing (and I think it always will be) is when they reach out as young professionals and ask to play for me as they prepare for big moments. And the letters and emails I have received from former students who went on to non-music professions, telling me how the work we did together through music has helped them in their lives warm my heart and fill me with tears of gratitude. 

But I have decided that this will be my last year of teaching. My Bridge Online Cello Studio students have graduated, and are in very good hands, and my last day of teaching at the Bermuda School of Music is 10 days from now. This has all been in the works for months now, but I couldn’t talk about it publicly until the announcement was made here. 

 

Why am I leaving something I love so much? Something that has been a huge part of me for 30+ years? 

 

I’m not, really. 

 

I’m just not going to be teaching cello–or music, for that matter. 

I learned a lot from my decision to leave my performance career behind last year. Shortly after I played my “last official professional concert” I was asked to perform in a concert here in June 2023. It was over a year later, and it was repertoire I loved. I decided to keep it on the calendar in case I found myself regretting my decision to stop playing. I figured if I did change my mind, I’d be happy to have something fairly big already on the calendar, and if I hadn’t changed my mind, well…it at least would be fun. 

 

I didn’t change my mind.

 

Said concert is this week, and it IS fun. The pianist I’m performing with is fantastic, and rehearsals have been a joy. It’s a piece I know well, and it’s been great. And I’m looking forward to not having to do it anymore. 

So now, this time around, having given myself that contingency plan for “Big life change #1”, I don’t feel the need to do it for “Big life change #2.” I’m ready to put the “Kate as cellist” behind me, and honestly, teaching 4-5 days a week has meant that I’ve continued to play the cello almost every day as well. 

 

The Teacher in me is still going strong. I don’t think she’ll ever die. I do a lot of teaching in my coaching work: the career coaching part of it anyway. I teach my clients how to write copy, how to increase their visibility, how to network in non-slimy ways, etc. in other words, just as I was able to help that very first little student of mine way back when by teaching him the things that I had figured out in my own work, I help them develop the skills that have helped me along the way. 

Even these blog posts are about me as a teacher. I’m not writing this because I think you’re all dying to know all about my life and my thought process. I’m writing this because some of you out there are thinking about changing some part of your life as well, and I’m here to share my experience so that you can struggle less with your own decision-making. 

 

Here are some top takeaways: 

1. People might initially be shocked, but they will quickly come around to being supportive

2. A LOT of people will contact you and express their secret desires to do the same thing. 

3. You are innately allowed to change course. If you still need external permission to do so, I’m giving it to you now. 

4. You are also allowed to change your mind about changing your mind. You can come back if you want to. 

5. You will likely find (as I did) that what you are leaving behind is only the external expression of who you truly are. The cello was my tool for expressing myself and connecting with others. I still do those things, but now my tool is writing. Teaching allowed me to share knowledge and help others become the best version of themselves. Now I do that through coaching and, again, through writing. 

6. Never make decisions based on what you think others expect of you. 100% of the time, they are too busy worrying about their own lives to have any real concern over what you choose to do with yours. 

As I spend the next 10 days giving my last cello lessons, watching my students play their spring recitals, and clearing out my studio, I will no doubt feel lots of feels. Already, when I gave one of my Bridge students her last lesson last Sunday, I looked down at my well-worn copy of the Saint Saens Cello Concerto and realized that it was suddenly possible that I will never look at it again, and that felt BIG. 

But, just like a good closet refresh, when you clear out things that have been with you for 30+ years, you’re making room for other wonderful things, and you get to keep all of the memories that went along with the old. It’s bittersweet for sure, but growth always is. 

Here’s to making big decisions, endings, beginnings, changing course, and staying true to ourselves. If I can do it, you can too, my friend. 

Cheers! 

Kate

P.S. If this post struck a chord, and you’ve been trying to figure out a new direction for your life or career (or both!), I’ve created a short but super helpful worksheet that has helped dozens of my clients find that much-needed clarity so that they can move forward toward their goals.  You can grab it here for free today.