The Soloist

I had drinks with my friend Leanne last night. I met Leanne through friends, and though we always got along and had great conversations, Leanne was always someone in that “Friends of Friends” category. She had called a few days ago about getting together and chatting. I figured I was being asked to tag along.

“Nope,” she said. “I was just hoping to chat with you.”

Since leaving her vocation as a well-paid project manager to pursue Pilates instruction, Leanne has been on a life path that fascinates me. I’ve taken on Soloing—a term I borrow from Harriet Rubin, who wrote a book with the same title—half-assedly several times in my life, always drifting back to 401(k) Land, hat in my hands.

Something had seduced Lee out of the corporate world and dropped her into this new, exciting, terrifying place. As we sat down for a glass of pinot noir, I could see that she still wasn’t sure about what had happened.

“How are things going, Leanne?”

“OK,” she said, with lingering doubt on the last syllable. “I’m doing what I said I wanted to do, but now I’m not so sure that this is what I really wanted. And now I’m broke and wondering if…I just…”

Her trailing response was as uncertain as her prognosis of her future. When I was soloing I used to respond to that question the same way, without confidence. Comparing reality with my expectations of where I felt I should have been, and where I’d wanted to end up, I was never able to say things were good, even if I was getting closer.

Leanne’s new career choice was no shot in the dark. She’s always been athletic; she could always pick up a sport and be good at it—or at the very least, not suck at it. For more than a decade she had been practicing yoga and Pilates and could tell she had a talent for connecting to her spiritual self through her practice. For Leanne, being “in shape” was never the goal; it was a necessary precondition for being able to interpret herself and others. If spiritual expression was her art, movement was her medium.

Nearly a year after her transition Leanne looks phenomenal. At age 45, she has the body and vitality of a 25-year-old, only a 25-year-old pilates instructor wouldn’t miss a generous corporate paycheck; she would have a few years before feeling obligated to opt for benefits and a Herman Miller chair.

But Leanne has known both worlds: she’s followed her bliss and she’s feasted on the artificial freedom a regular paycheck provides. Eventually, the body rejects this unnatural nourishment; it screams for something else. Still,in the absence of the nourishment we’re seeking as soloists, we can get mighty hungry. Hell, anyone who’s traveling a lonely road and starving would likely stop at the first place she could eat, even if it was McDonald’s.

I think of the projects I took on when I started getting hungry as a soloist; they were worse than my projects in the corporate world. They drained me and took the space I should have reserved for the real stuff. But the body and mind don’t know any better after a while, when hunger sets in. That’s why Lee called me. She needed someone to remind her of her mission. Someone to remind her that, though McDonald’s is at the next exit, there’s an awesome salad bar right over the hill.

From her friends’ viewpoint, Leanne has been successful. She got the required certification to be a Pilates instructor, she’s worked less-desirable hours at a number of studios to build up a clientele and now has some regulars. When she forgets about how broke she is, she says she can just look at someone walking in her direction and tell where they are hurting. Sometimes she can tell why they are hurting.

“When I am in this space,” Leanne said, “I remember why I’m doing this.” But then she drives home at some ungodly hour, where she is staying with friends, or where she's petsitting in exchange for rent, looks at her checkbook, “which I never had to balance before,” and begins to wonder: Is this the only way?

I know she wanted perspective on her situation. I offered up some of my own insights from when I had been soloing, but I had no answers. I had yet to solo with any sustained success.

But, alas, I’ve had time to sleep on it, Lee. And I think I have some answers for you.

I had a dream last night, my recurring dream. I’m late for class and show up in the middle of the exam. The test is put on my desk, and I begin to realize I have no clue what the answers are. In fact, I had never gone to class; and I can’t figure out why I could be so irresponsible. I got so upset about this that I woke up. After all, I would never let this happen in real life.

It occurs to me that giving up control is hard. We only allow ourselves to do it in our dreams. But if you are living your dreams you have to learn to be with this feeling. Ride the dream out. Let yourself walk out of that exam knowing you’ll get a big fat failing grade, and move on. It’s very likely that exam was on some subject that no longer means anything to you.

Also, remember when you are feeling most in your zone. It’s not when you are instructing, it’s when you are interpreting. If spiritual expression is your art, and movement your medium, Pilates is simply one of the tools in your repertoire. If you are an interpreter, you have many ways to get the message out--instructing, writing, inspiring others to spread your message. And you must always listen for the message--it's a necessary step for the interpreting to follow.

Also get that you feel alone because you’ve chosen to do something that ain’t for everybody. You are an interpreter for masses who are numb and ignore the messages their bodies are screaming at them. You are also a pioneer, carving out a vision, a path that hasn’t become worn yet by the swarms of others who will undoubtedly follow.

Let me put it in the language of your former world—you are a first mover. Others have chosen this industry, but no one offers your unique value proposition. Your start-up could fail, or it could revolutionize. Even if it fails, being the entrepreneur that you are you will inevitably land, maybe hang out for a while at some post-IPO organization while you plan your next escape. But the next time you’ll be even more prepared, and your exit strategy will be quick and much less tortured. You won’t question leaving. You’ve felt what it’s like being in your zone; you can’t say you don’t know your gift. It’s in your blood now.

It's too late to turn back. One wing is already out of the cocoon. Even if you could figure out how to stuff it back in you'd feel cramped, sequestered, unable to fly.

Leanne, my friend, you are not a pilates instructor, you are a healer. Now, go back to the studio and start over.

Comments

[Yvonne DiVita]

Leanne needs to write a book. Your story about her is also marvelous! Yes, I'm a writer, and entering the print on demand world of publishing as a business owner, so I tell everyone to write a book. But, I say so because I believe writing a book is a wonderful way to connect to your inner being, and also, to help others by offering insight they may not possess, that you do. Leanne could easily put a short tome together and publish it cheaply through print on demand-- to establish a calling card that is more than a businesscard, and to chronicle her soloist adventure...which will show her how marvelous she is and how NEEDED! You, also, have a gift. Keep writing. I'm glad I read Crossroads this morning...that's where I found you. Enjoy.

[Evelyn Rodriguez]

I told you guys and gals Jory was a great writer. Wonderful post. I'll save the gory details - but have had my share of less-than-successful and more-successful-but-not-lucrative-enough-returns-for-the-effort solo ventures.

Enough now to notice that trading a job for the freelance consultant's life or soloist's (ala Harriet Rubin) or free agent's (ala Daniel Pink) is only a wee bit better in terms of autonomy. Your customers are your employer, essentially.

Anyway, I'm now more into looking at how to productize service companies and create a business rather be the business.

"Rich Dad, Poor Dad" series was really instrumental in getting me to see the four options (yeah, I know the title sounds dorky, but there's some good stuff in there):

Employee - you work for the system (someone else owns the means of production).

Self-employed - you are the system - or in other words, you and your time are essentially the means of production.

Business - you create, own or manage a system (the means of production is a creation bigger than any single person and the concepts of scale and leverage are applied; money is being made even while you sleep).

Investor - you invest in a system, or means of production.

[Leanne]

Thank you Jory for your fabulous observations and your time. I think Yvonne's comments are really interesting because one of the first conversations I remember having with you ended in a request for us to get together to talk about writing books--on my part, this was just for my edification.
I too am always asking people, "What's your booK?" and then drawing a title out of them when they say they don't have one 'cuz I know that is not true--we all have a book in us. I have never thought that this is something I would actually do, however, and,
it got me thinking. The working title for my imaginary book for years was, "My Mom and My Sister were Homecoming Queens (I'm not kidding)," which of course was never written because it was just a whine about how I didn't get as many boyfriends as they did and my excuse for not living the typical female role in life. This morning I came up with the title, "Coming of age with Velocity." For me that's being caught in the body, mind and soul of a thirty something, loving the values that people in their late twentites and early thirties embrace, but being forty something and finding that people are expecting me to "act my age." What does that look like, eh? In the end, it's really my story about self acceptance having broken all the rules about what womanhood is all about, and apparently not doing what people who are my age should be doing--etc. When I look at my life through rose colored glasses, I get that I am an example of coming of age (moving into cronedome) in the new millenium, that is to say, I'm staying current while aging and struggling with trying to find my value proposition in a world that moves really fast but that still holds woman as most valuable for their ability to perpetuate life even though we are now a hard to support 6 billion plus on this planet. So what does that have to do with my current life changes? Everything, maybe I do have a book to write. Thanks for starting this string--It has definitely helped me to sort stuff out such that I'm the beloved protagonist. Thank you and lots of love,

Thanks to Evelyn too. great info. Thanks!
Leanne