"Nick says I still have to create all these pages and link them to new menus, but I still have to create all these accounts for new teachers and test all the links in the site, too." My tone was dejected as I looked at Scott through bleary, bloodshot eyes. Nick is our tech guru, and was going home for the night. It was 11:30pm on the eve before I was to depart on a 10 day trip, and I had a minor mountain of outstanding to-do's on my path to launching mymojoyoga.com. I had been hitting the keys hard for the last month straight, determined to launch before the landing gear left the runway. At this moment, though, my faith was beginning to wane. "Let's make a list. You tell me everything that's yet to be done. I'll prioritize it." Scott's grabbing of the proverbial wheel always brings about a mixture of relief and dread. His methods are ruthlessly minimalistic, often leaving my highly detail-oriented tendencies whimpering, "But, what about...?"
I take a deep breath and rattle off about 12 things I think must be done in our final launch sequence. Scott whittles it down immediately to about 6. "The rest can wait." Fine.
We silently muse on the list for a moment. "Can we do it?" I ask, pondering aloud more to myself than pointedly questioning.
What I didn't realize in that moment was that the night wouldn't be just me pounding away at my computer with Scott cheering me on, in his usual oh-so-inspiring and motivating ways. Not this time. Scott busted out his dilapidated laptop and asked me which tasks I could teach him to do on the fly. Mind you, Scott uses his laptop for cruising surf-porn, Facebook, and P90X. My remaining tasks were all in the backend of 2 websites. "Holy sh*t, this should be interesting."
After hitting a few moments in the lead up to MOJO where I felt as though I might crack under bearing much of the weight of this mountain of tasks seemingly on my own, this was the help I'd been craving but apparently didn't know how to ask for. He's an angel if there ever was one.
Two cups of coffee each, more than a few delirious fits of laughter, a confused dog's countless growls over a long-missed bedtime, and one massive hunk of teamwork later, I call our dear friend and co-founder, Teresa, at 4-something in the morning. She's the only one of our core team sure to be up, living 6 hours ahead. I know she's awaiting launch with bated breath, given that my usual Tuesday blog is two days late. All this is fortunate for me, given that she's definitively the first person I want to call through the mist of my eyes and my fluttering heart (maybe too much coffee). She's been with us from day one of Infinity Crossing. She's our anchor.
"I've just hit send on the last Infinity Crossing blog post. MOJO is a freakin' go." Let the celebration, and the endless editing, begin. Por fin.
All-nighters aren't typically a source of mojo. I used to pull them in college all the time, and I was somehow surprised to see that old habit rear its ugly head now. I mean, I'm supposed be a beacon of putting lifestyle first now. I was the one who long ago proclaimed that we would do no more "big pushes." And yet, here I was at it again. I had seen the launch through to success. It was a moment at once nostalgic, proud, and exuberant. Yet, I had sacrificed my sleep, my surfing, heck even my time moving about anywhere outside my corner desk. I was exhausted. I was hopping on a jet plane later in the day for a week and a half of frenetic travel. Normalcy would dictate sleep at that moment. But, I felt my mojo beckoning me elsewhere.
"Let's go surfing!"
I hadn't been in the water for more than 2 hours total in the last week. The ocean is my happiest of happy places. I couldn't sleep through the now wide open precious dawn patrol hours. I had to go.
How do you know when you've made a good call at junctures like these? You know it when the mojo starts to pour in.
First, I thought was flying out at 1-something in the afternoon, yet I check my itinerary and find I don't depart until 9:30pm. That leaves plenty of time for other things I was prepared to forgo: shower, sleep, a proper meal, and a family dog walk.
At the spot we encounter glassy waist-chest high waves with only 3 people on it. Turns out we know them. It's 2.5 hours of glorious, undisturbed, hooting, soul-replenishing wave dancing. The exhaustion was washed away.
Our first discovered problem (because nothing's perfect) on our newly launched babe of technology is quickly and easily righted, thanks to a rested and fresh tech guru waiting in the wings.
The rest of the day is just as magnificently mojo-filled all the way to Washington DC and beyond. Conscious of the lessons we can take away from this most recent of good-life product launches, and how we can be better next time, both for the business side and for our quality of life in the process, we know we did the absolute best we could this time around. And we're certain of that because it feels right. It all just feels right to the marrow of our bones, and the mojo is there to verify it.
But why is the mojo working this time, where at other moments in our past it eluded us, leaving us scratching back up out of a giant black hole of bad habits? Why was this all-nighter somewhat acceptable where others left me smoking and dispirited? Like so much of getting mojo, it's mostly in the little things, and a couple of very big things. The big things are the foundation and the little things breathe life into it all and keep it moving forward.
We had our big intentions clearly envisioned for one, and didn't allow any compromises to dilute its fruition. The clarity of our vision now we owe to many lessons learned the hard way along the road. The little choices we made to get through those lessons and move forward brought life to our long held visions and carry us every day. Some of our little choices are easy for anyone to take on. Here are a few of the things we've added to our lifestyle that I think made a huge difference in upping the flow of mojo:
1. We decided to take on a business coach and join a community of entrepreneurs for unbiased guidance, collective creativity, and moral support. This helped us not only take action to clear up our vision and intentions, but also helped us identify and prioritize the actions we needed to take to bring that vision to fruition. You could do a version of this simply by reaching out with a note or phone call to one or a few of the people you admire to seek advice on just one thing. Put yourself out there for feedback, and you may just discover solutions or opportunities you would never have encountered all by your lonesome.
2. Our daily routines inform who we are and everything we do, and ours needed some sprucing up again. So we elected to try out Hal Elrod's Miracle Morning. It's a commitment to doing a few things every morning just for your own personal development. Starting the day off by paying yourself first before attending to anyone else's agenda is huge. It transforms your thinking, and your approach to the rest of your day in a positive way that can't be overstated. The Miracle Morning has several components, but you could start this with just a few minutes and just a little yoga, a little meditation, a little reading, or a little writing first thing when you wake. Do something just for you that feeds your spirit first. The rest takes care of itself.
3. As part of that morning routine, we signed on to Headspace and the simple daily meditation structure seemed to bring greater ease and clarity of mind through what would have previously been quite a turbulent, chaotic time.
So, if you start to fall off your mojo wagon or haven't ever really discovered it yet, try one of those things regularly for a month. It always works for us, and each time we add more, things run so much better than all the times prior. It's exponential growth, because mojo is much like vitamins. You take a little in everyday and after a while your whole system starts to function like a well oiled machine...through the good times, and even when things get crazy.