Tame the Creative Mind During Meditation

August 2016. Northern New Mexico. I was deep into a five-day silent meditation retreat, surrounded by quaking aspens, mountain air, and breathtaking wilderness. But my brain wouldn’t shut up. I couldn’t tame my creative mind. On the outside, I was the picture of calm.

Inside? A storm of ideas.

Blog post concepts. Fresh angles on my facilitation process. Insightful links between my retreat experience and my ikigai, my reason for being.

Each idea was a gift. And a distraction.

I wanted to grab a pen. If I didn’t write them down, they’d vanish. But that wasn’t why I was there. I wasn’t supposed to be brainstorming. I was supposed to be meditating.

This was a problem.

It took me nine years to solve it.

Meditation Is Tough

Like many people, I’ve struggled to maintain a meditation practice. Lately, I’ve done better—I recently marked a full year without missing a day. But the process itself is hard.

Notice your thoughts. Let them go. Return to your breath, your body, bringing yourself back to your center, the present moment. Repeat, endlessly.

It’s Even Tougher for Creatives

I suspect that mediation is even more difficult for creative minds. Ideas don’t just drift in—they barge in, waving their arms.

Each time a creative idea arises, I face a dilemma:

  • Do I break my meditation to capture it?
  • Or do I stay still, let it go, and risk forgetting it entirely?

At multi-day silent retreats, you’re sometimes allowed a short meeting with a retreat leader, your only chance to speak. So, in New Mexico, I used mine to ask for help.

I explained my dilemma. I don’t remember what he said. But I remember this: it wasn’t helpful.

Since then, I’ve asked other experienced meditators. No luck.

If I were going to solve this problem, I’d have to solve it myself.

The Creative Mind Hack That Finally Helped

Creative ideas don’t just ambush me during meditation. They also arrive when I’m daydreaming—walking the dirt roads near my home, taking a shower, relaxing after work.

And daydreaming, interestingly, looks a lot like meditating. From the outside, it’s hard to tell the difference.

This reminds me of the apocryphal IBM story:Tame the creative mind! Photograph of a 1960s IBM Corporation wooden wall sign laminated plaque with the word "THINK" in large letters and the phrase "COMPLIMENTS OF IBM CORPORATION" in small letters underneath.

An IBM employee sits at his desk, staring into space. His manager walks in and asks, “What are you doing?” The employee points to the “THINK” sign on the wall. “I’m thinking,” he says.

That story lingered in the back of my mind. Then, during a recent meditation session, a new idea popped up—ironically:

What if I just scheduled a “creative daydreaming” session before I meditated?

Meditation helps me surface good ideas. But what if I gave myself space to harvest them first, before trying to let them go?

So I experimented.

  • I sat quietly for 10 minutes, with the intention to daydream.
  • When a useful idea surfaced, I paused, captured it, and then resumed.
  • Only after that did I begin my formal meditation.

And the result?

Daydream First, Meditate Next.

When I do this—when I daydream first, then meditate—I notice far fewer creative interruptions during meditation.

It doesn’t work every day. On weekday mornings, I often meditate early with my wife, and I can’t always carve out daydreaming time beforehand.

But when I meditate later in the day, I do.

And yes, it helps. A lot.

Does This Work for You?

I wonder if others have tried this. Has anyone else found that deliberately daydreaming before meditating tames the creative flood?

Does it reduce that internal tension between insight and presence?

It has for me. I’d love to hear whether it works for you too, and whether you’ve discovered any additional tricks for balancing creativity with stillness.

Feel free to share your experience in the comments.

The Right Place: Three Encounters with Strangers in Crisis

Three images of strangers in crisis. On the left, an elderly man in a park kneels next to an elderly woman bicyclist with a bloody head who is lying on the ground. In the middle, a crying young woman has smashed a credit card terminal on a pharmacy counter. And on the right, a woman standing next to a car tries to get the attention of an unresponsive woman inside the car. In the last eighteen months, I’ve unexpectedly found myself in three very different situations, in three very different places, helping complete strangers in distress. None of these moments lasted more than ten or fifteen minutes. But each one left me shaken, reflective, and—somehow—grateful. Here’s what happened.

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Everywhere is holy

Everywhere is holy. Image from an abandoned sanitarium, a closet containing a single coathanger. Image attribution: Timothy Neesam Timothy Neesam (GumshoePhotos) https://www.flickr.com/photos/neesam/5448000610 under a CC BY-NC-ND 2.0 licenseI recently came across the poem Sacred Ground, by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer. She reminded me that everywhere is holy.

It’s easy for me to see aspects of my life as mundane. When I do, I gloss over the present moment, and the personal stories that surround it. Rosemerry prompts me not to:

‘And if, as I now know, the closet
is sacred and the bare room
is sacred and the sidewalk
and classroom and the ER
are sacred, then I trip
into the teaching
that everywhere is sacred—
not only the church, but
the alley. Not only the mosque,
but the bench…’
—The beginning of the poem Sacred Ground by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer

Reading the poem, I was reminded that approaching mindfulness as the cultivation of embodied awareness includes “having my heart be where my feet are.”

At times, this feels so dificult. I distract myself from being present. I fret over why things are the way they are instead of accepting or changing them. And I get lost in the mundane.

The poem’s end offers a redemptive practice…

‘…Every step, a step
from holy to holy
to holy.’

Thank you, Narayan Helen Liebenson, for introducing me to Rosemerry’s poem.

Image attribution: Timothy Neesam (GumshoePhotos) under a CC BY-NC-ND 2.0 license

More about dealing with assholes

Illustration of a golden toilet at the top of a circular tier of steps, perfect for assholes to perch on.In 2023, I published a widely-read post about dealing with (metaphorical) assholes, potholes, and black holes. The advice I gave was about how to best handle personal interactions with assholes. Currently, however, the world has many assholes in positions of power, where they can and are doing tremendous damage to society.

Dealing with powerful assholes (PAs) who are affecting many lives through societal manipulations requires some different approaches.

First, though, here’s a reminder of how to deal with assholes in your personal life:

“The best way to deal with assholes is to avoid them whenever possible. If you can’t, then don’t confront them; they love that. Instead, ignore them. If you have to interact with one, set boundaries on the time you’ll be with them and what you will tolerate. This can be tough, so remember that their assholeness is their problem, not yours.

Remember that assholes are not happy people. Though it’s hard to do, if you can feel compassion for an asshole you’re with, it will help you deal with their behavior better. And it may (don’t count on it) help them be slightly less asshole-like with you.”
—Adrian Segar, Assholes, potholes, and black holes, May, 2023

When dealing with PAs, most of the above advice is still relevant.

Ignore powerful assholes selectively

Ignoring PAs is important when they are trying to get reactions from those they are trying to vilify or rile up. Assholes are cruel, sick people who enjoy seeing others suffer. By not responding emotionally when they spout theatrical nonsense or lies, you avoid buying into their attempts to make you suffer. Yes, this can be hard to do. Reminding yourself that their assholeness is their problem, not yours, can help.

Since his inauguration, the 47th U.S. President [47] — a quintessential PA — has been issuing a torrent of Executive Orders (EOs) that are an archetypal embodiment of PA cruelty. Under such a constant bombardment, it’s hard to remember that many of his EOs are meaningless or illegal. Each EO is designed to elicit a nasty emotional effect on those who are disgusted with this man, but much of what he says has little or no connection with what he does. I am not minimizing the very real damage 47 is inflicting on individuals, the United States, and the world. Rather, I’m saying that we need to tune out the performative cruel statements of PAs and focus on combatting and resisting the very real destruction they cause (see below).

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Nine snippets of wisdom for 2024

nine snippets of wisdom: "The deepest human need is the need to be appreciated." "Humans and stories need each other. We tell them, but they tell us too–reaching with soft hands and wide arms to pull us into their embrace. They do this especially when we have become mired in lives of which we can make no sense. We all need a path, and stories can sometimes usher us back to it." "Covering content does not lead to knowledge retention, understanding of information or how to apply it. It actually serves as a barrier to learning. It is only when attendees become participants with the content and use it, even if just in discussions, that the knowledge is retained and understanding happens." "Leadership is no longer part of a job description: something anointed on the chosen few. Leadership is a role to be adopted when needed, and then passed on when the need has gone. It's a dynamic thing, moving around the organisation, reshaping the organisation as it passes from individual to individual, team to team." "All violence is the result of people tricking themselves into believing that their pain derives from other people and that consequently those people deserve to be punished." "If you want to build a ship, don’t drum up people together to collect wood and don’t assign them tasks and work, but rather teach them to long for the endless immensity of the sea." "The person you are just about to become is a stranger to you." "Everything that needs to be said has already been said. But since no one was listening, everything must be said again." "It’s easier to act our way into a new way of thinking, than think our way into a new way of acting."Here are nine old and new snippets of wisdom that spoke to me at some point in 2024. And a bonus at the end…

“Leadership is no longer part of a job description: something anointed on the chosen few. Leadership is a role to be adopted when needed, and then passed on when the need has gone. It’s a dynamic thing, moving around the organisation, reshaping the organisation as it passes from individual to individual, team to team.”
“Is your organisation irrelevant?”, Peter Evans-Greenwood, 2012

“Everything that needs to be said has already been said. But since no one was listening, everything must be said again.”
Andre Gide, Treatise on Narcissus [Le Traité du Narcisse] (1891)

“If you want to build a ship, don’t drum up people together to collect wood and don’t assign them tasks and work, but rather teach them to long for the endless immensity of the sea.”
Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, a very loose English paraphrase of his French poem Dessine-moi un bateau, or Make Me a Boat, found in Citadelle, 1948

“The person you are just about to become is a stranger to you.”
David Whyte via Viv McWaters, 2016

“Covering content does not lead to knowledge retention, understanding of information or how to apply it. It actually serves as a barrier to learning. It is only when attendees become participants with the content and use it, even if just in discussions, that the knowledge is retained and understanding happens.”
“Is Your Conference Guilty Of Content Bulimia?”, Jeff Hurt, 2013

“All violence is the result of people tricking themselves into believing that their pain derives from other people and that consequently those people deserve to be punished.”
Marshall Rosenberg, Nonviolent Communication: A Language of Life, 2015

“It’s easier to act our way into a new way of thinking, than think our way into a new way of acting.”
Jerry Sternin, The Power of Positive Deviance, 2010

“Humans and stories need each other. We tell them, but they tell us too–reaching with soft hands and wide arms to pull us into their embrace. They do this especially when we have become mired in lives of which we can make no sense. We all need a path, and stories can sometimes usher us back to it.”
Michael Marshall Smith, Hannah Green and Her Unfeasibly Mundane Existence, 2017

“The deepest human need is the need to be appreciated.”
— Attributed to William James, 1800s

BONUS: Nine practical tips for letting go in a chaotic world

Maintenance

Definition of the noun "maintenance" from The Cambridge Dictionary: "the work needed to keep something in good condition", superimposed over a photograph of Adrian Segar
Definition of the noun “maintenance” from The Cambridge Dictionary: “the work needed to keep something in good condition”

As I grow older, I spend more and more time on maintenance—not of my home or possessions, but of my body.

My body doesn’t work as well as it used to.

Exercise, stretching, and standing consciously have become essential.

My short-term memory has deteriorated, making it harder to juggle the day-to-day details I once handled with ease.

Sleeping was once effortless, but I must now prepare medications and follow routines to ensure I get enough rest.

I find myself taking more pills than I ever thought I would.

I think to myself, how did I get here?

A photograph of a room with a woman holding a sign that says “How did I get here?”

Silver linings

Aging has brought gifts though. As my professional life slows, I have more time to consciously maintain my body and my relationships. The upside of a worsening short-term memory is that it’s easier to live in the moment!

I’m more aware than ever that I will not live forever.

This awareness brings, at times, some measure of equanimity.

The act of maintenance is inherently paradoxical—it is a fight against entropy, a refusal to let things fall apart. Maintenance implies that we can somehow maintain what we had at an earlier age. This of course is not how it works. Eventually, I will die and maintenance—along with everything else that occupies my attention—will no longer be a problem.

Until then, I will work diligently on maintenance, keeping my life the best it can realistically be.

That is enough. It is more than enough.
Photograph Adrian Segar in Philadelphia, standing in front of the Liberty Bell

Paying it forward!

Paying it forward: photograph of a Virginia license plate "PY1TFWD"I’m a proponent of paying it forward.

Throughout my professional life, I have been fortunate to receive invaluable advice, support, and encouragement from mentors at critical times. Most importantly, when I hesitantly approached someone I deeply respected and asked them whether something I was planning—often, something I had never done before or something no one had ever done before—was a good idea.

To my surprise, my mentors invariably reacted with great enthusiasm and encouragement. “That sounds like a wonderful idea—you should do it!” they would say, often offering suggestions and valuable advice.

I felt so supported.

Without their encouragement, I would have felt uneasy about pursuing my risky new plans. I might even have given up.

Thanks to my mentors, I:

  • Set my professional fees at the right level when I began consulting in 1982.
  • Forged ahead and wrote what eventually became a series of three books on conference design.
  • Found the courage to share my weekly musings on a wide variety of topics publicly via my blog.
  • Consequently became a valued resource on meeting design and facilitation for thousands of people and organizations.

Mentorship and the mentee

Mentorship is often depicted as a formal process with a mentor regularly meeting with a mentee. However, I have a more flexible definition. Powerful mentorship can happen in a single short session, sharing insights and encouragement at a critical moment that supports the mentee’s life—sometimes in ways the mentor may never know and that the mentee may only recognize years later.

Mentors also benefit from working with mentees. I feel good when I’m seen as a mentor and appreciated for my guidance and advice. And I often learn from mentees too!

As a result, I have been paying it forward as a mentor of various kinds for some time now, giving back what was so generously offered to me when I needed it.

How I pay it forward

Professionally, I offer free guest appearances during meeting industry college programs, allowing students to experience participant-driven and participation-rich session formats. I answer questions about the industry and encourage students to continue to work out what they truly love to do, supporting them along the way.

Given my years of independent consulting and running a business, decades of serving on nonprofit boards, and a deep background in technology, people come to me for advice on their lives, careers, and top-of-the-mind problems. Online communities of practice are great places to connect with people with unmet wants and needs.

I try to help these people to the best of my ability. I love this work. Just like my mentors did.

Paying it forward is at the heart of community. It is one of the keys to facilitating connection, my ikigai.

If you haven’t already, I encourage you to adopt the practice of paying it forward in your life. I think you will find, as I have, that it pays rich dividends.

Image attribution: Eli Christman under a CC BY 2.0 license

Why Trust Matters More Than Ever

The importance of trust: photograph of a smiling mechanic standing beside a bright yellow Mini in his garage Image attribution: Flickr user Bennilover
Trust matters more than ever to me. In a world that is complex and often overwhelming, building trusted relationships has become essential. As I reflect on my various connections—from intimate and life-changing relationships to countless daily interactions—I realize that trust is the cornerstone of my well-being. It’s little wonder that I have moved to valuing trust more and more over time.

It wasn’t always this way. In my youth, when I had plenty of energy and finances were tight, I often based my choice of professional relationships—whether buying products or services—on financial considerations alone. Most of the time, this strategy worked out fine. But occasionally, it led to unpleasant surprises.

I dealt with large organizations that turned out to be less than forthright. Their polished advertising and marketing were seductive, but the fine print, if it existed, often hid unpleasant surprises. The price of choosing based on cost alone was increased vigilance and stress. When things went wrong, I was left to navigate misunderstandings and unmet expectations.

Finding those I can trust

In contrast, my experiences with individuals and small companies were significantly better. These smaller entities usually understood the value of delivering on their promises. They knew that failing to do so would jeopardize future work. When things didn’t go according to plan, they were willing to discuss the issue and find a fair resolution. In short, they did what was necessary to make things right.

Over the years, I built up a network of people I could trust. My website developer, who can handle the infrequent but knotty problems I can’t resolve, despite my IT background. The garage owner who reliably fixes our cars. The guy who picks up our trash. The small local company that plows our gravel driveway, fixes it when heavy rain washes it out, and mows the lawn.

It’s not that price is no longer a consideration for me. I still look for value and buy commodity products as inexpensively as possible. However, I continue to support local sellers of food, services, and hardware, even though they may not be the cheapest places to shop.

Some insights about trust

One of my favorite insights comes from Jerry Weinberg‘s book The Secrets of Consulting, in the chapter How to be trusted:

“Trust takes years to win, moments to lose.”

This resonates deeply with me. Trust isn’t something that can be easily regained once it’s lost.

I’ve also learned a couple of things about hiring experts. The key to choosing the best professional help often lies in their honesty. When an expert, like a business colleague or a doctor, can admit, “I don’t know,” it’s a sign of reliability and integrity. This humility is a cornerstone of trust.

Trust, I’ve learned, isn’t uniform across all areas of expertise. For instance, as I get older, my memory becomes less reliable, and I’m more likely to share opinions or recollections that aren’t entirely accurate. Recognizing and communicating the limits of one’s knowledge and expertise is crucial in maintaining trust.

The level of trust can change over time. Take Twitter, for example. My trust in the platform shifted dramatically after the Elon Musk [“Civil war is inevitable”] acquisition. Changes in ownership, rules, and organizational culture influence the trustworthiness of any product or service.

Social media, in general, presents a complex landscape for trust. Its trustworthiness is influenced by its structure, rules, level of moderation, and ownership culture. While disagreements about facts are inevitable, the degree to which these disagreements occur, and how much we can trust what people post depends significantly on these factors.

And consider the trust infants place in their parents or caregivers. This unequivocal trust can lead to either healthy or unhealthy development. As adults, blindly trusting others is seldom a recipe for a healthy life. It’s essential to build trust based on experience, reliability, and integrity.

In conclusion, trust is a precious and fragile commodity. Trust matters! As I navigate life, I’ve come to value trusted relationships more than ever, understanding that they are essential for a fulfilling and less stressful existence.

Image attribution: Flickr user Bennilover under a CC BY-ND 2.0 license

Nine practical tips for letting go in a chaotic world

let go: black and white photograph of (on left) fingers holding the cuff of a sweater over the hand (on right) fingers letting go of the cuff of the sweater from the hand "Let Go" by JFXie is licensed under CC BY 2.0.Recently, I’ve been practicing what Susan Pollak calls “letting go of whatever isn’t serving you right now”. Perhaps your first thought is “That sounds nice”, quickly followed by a second thought along the lines of “Huh, easy to say, hard to do. OK, Adrian, how can I let go in this chaotic world?”

I’ve no guarantees, but here are nine suggestions that almost always work for me.

1 — Notice what’s going on

Yes, we need to shut up and listen to what people say. And we need to notice what they do. But what is often harder is to listen to and notice ourselves. To notice:

A simple personal example is noticing I feel angry about a small irritation, like accidentally dropping something I’m holding. When I’m centered, an incident like that is no big deal. But when I respond with an expletive, that’s a sign something else is going on. I’m likely carrying some anger that has nothing to do with my fumble.

Without noticing what’s going on with ourselves, we’re unlikely to be capable of letting go of anything that isn’t serving us well.

2 — Meditate regularly

Regular meditation is the key to giving me practice and supporting my need/want/desire to let go of what isn’t serving me in the moment. Though I struggled to meditate daily for many years, I’ve finally developed a daily meditation practice that serves me well. I also try to meditate when I notice incongruence in my responses to experiences (see above).

3 — “Nothing to get. Nothing to get rid of.”

While meditating, thoughts and (sometimes) feelings appear. When this happens, reminding myself that there’s “Nothing to get. Nothing to get rid of.” calms me and helps me empty my mind.

4 — “Is it necessary?”

The question “Is it necessary?” is a useful tool to examine a disturbing thought that captures your attention.

Do I need to be thinking this thought right now 😀?

Usually, the answer is “no”!

5 — Remember who you are

I have a contract with myself, that I developed in 2005. Sometimes, I notice I’m circling through thoughts and feelings about a fantasized future unrelated to the current moment. I remind myself of my contract — who I really am — by mentally repeating it to myself. This helps me center and stop clinging to unhealthy and unproductive thoughts and feelings.

6 — Greeting what comes up with compassion

You can’t force letting go. Instead, you can accept the reality of what is happening.  One way to do this is to greet what comes up with compassion. Compassion is a form of acceptance that can allow persistent thoughts and feelings to lose their force.

6 — “Let John be John.”

Sometimes you find yourself worried, upset, angry, etc. due to a specific person’s actions that affect you. A helpful way to get some distance and relief from these feelings and associated thoughts is to accept that they are the way they are. Saying to yourself “Let John be John” (substitute their name for “John” 😀) acknowledges that:

  • They are not you.
  • How they interact with you is always about them, and, often,  not about you.
  • You accept their reality without it necessarily affecting yours.

7 — Use music

Music has the strange power to change our emotional state. I don’t know of a better way to move away from persistent distracting thoughts and feelings than by listening (and sometimes dancing) to music that I love.

8 — Other concepts that may help you.

I’m using imperfect words to convey helpful approaches to letting go. Here are some other words and phrases that may strike a chord for you:

  • Acceptance
  • Loosening
  • Surrendering
  • Releasing
  • Noticing the burden
  • Clinging is suffering; letting go ends suffering
  • Letting go is a form of love.
  • Letting go is an ongoing practice and process
  • Letting things be as they are

9 — Finally, be kind to yourself!

We are all imperfect realizations of our perfection. I fail at all the above over and over again. When the renowned cellist Pablo Casals was asked why, at 81, he continued to practice four or five hours a day he answered: “Because I think I am making progress.” So, be kind to yourself!

What practical tips do you have to help you let go in this chaotic world? Please share in the comments below!

Image attribution: “The image Let Go” by JFXie is licensed under CC BY 2.0 .

Unexpected experiences of awe

If you saw the solar eclipse on April 8, 2024, you surely felt an experience of awe. Even if you weren’t in the path of totality—at my home we were at 96%—it was an awesome experience.

experience of awe: a photograph of Adrian Segar (on the right) and others enjoying the near-total solar eclipse in Marlboro, VT, on April 8, 2024
The author (on the right) and others enjoying a near-total solar eclipse on April 8, 2024

The eclipse could hardly be called unexpected; it had been predicted for hundreds of years. During the weeks before the event, a storm of media attention made it virtually impossible for anyone in its path to be unaware of this awesome event.

So let’s remember, that for every expected experience of awe, there are countless opportunities for unexpected experiences of awe.

If we are open to them.

An unexpected experience of awe on an airplane flight

I was flying home from a conference in Phoenix when I had an experience of awe. No, I didn’t see a breathtaking sunset, the moon’s shadow racing across the earth as an eclipse began, The Grand Canyon, or the dazzling lights of a great city.

Instead, something amazing happened on my seat tray.

mystery and play: photograph of an airline seat tray with a clear plastic cup of ice water and a napkin. Photo attribution: Flickr user ineffablepulchritude

November 11, 2005, flying home from a Phoenix conference

The flight attendant didn’t hand me the cup of ice water but put it directly on my tray. As it left her fingers it slid smoothly across the slate blue surface, towards my lap. Simultaneously puzzled and anxious, I reacted instinctively, grabbing the cup an inch from the tray edge. A spill averted, I let go for a fraction of a second, and the cup started to slide again. Fascinated, I flicked the cup lightly with my fingers and found I could control its glide with the lightest of touch.

For a minute I played with my cup as a child, delighted by a mystery I did not understand.

Mystery and play!

Then a moment came when my inner scientist moved into consciousness and asked: “What is going on?”

I lifted the cup, and the mystery collapsed into understanding.

Under the base was stuck a tiny chip of ice.

I put the cup back down on the tray and played some more. But within twenty seconds the ice melted and the cup became ordinary, unmoving. My pants were safe from a spill, but the world had shrunk back to the normal, expected.

But for a minute, my fragile worldview that there are reasons why things happen, even if we don’t know what they are, disappeared. I played in a space of suspended belief.

I had an unexpected experience of awe.

And a tiny slice of wonder made my life a little richer.

Be open to unexpected experiences of awe!

I love moments like this. Have they happened to you? Share them in the comments below!

Parts of this post are adapted from “Mystery and play, and the suspension of belief” which I wrote in October, 2013.

An HT to Olivia Hoblitzelle, who inspired this post!

Photo attributions: Neighbor Cherrie Corey and Flickr user ineffablepulchritude