Try this: Invent your own superhero

This past Sunday, we had a lovely workshop on the theme of alternate worlds / alternate lives. There were only two of us (it’s hard to compete with a warm sunny day in Portland), but we inhabited our alter-egos (Lightbulb Helmet and Craesie Fleur) with aplomb.

If you’d like to do some world shaking on your own time, I invite you to try one of the exercises we did in the workshop: invent your own superhero.

Step 1: Get some paper and a pen, sit down and close your eyes. Let the image of a superhero float into your mind.

Step 2: Jot down answers to these questions (don’t think about them — write the first things that come to mind):

  • What is their superpower?
  • Where did they come from — what is their origin story?
  • What is their fatal flaw or weakness?
  • What kind of outfit do they wear?
  • What vehicle do they drive?
  • Who are their helpers?
  • Who are their enemies — who are they fighting?
  • What are they fighting for?
  • Who are they protecting?

Step 3: Draw a picture of your superhero based on what you wrote down.

Step 4: What is your superhero’s name? Do they have a catchphrase?

Splendid! Now if you want to, share your superhero with us on facebook! I would love to meet them.

Here’s mine:

JET DIAMOND

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Jet Diamond was born in a coal mine. Her mother was 9 months pregnant and working in the mine when it collapsed. They thought everyone was dead, but when the rubble cleared, Old Man Winters walked out with a canary on one arm and a newborn baby in the other. He adopted the baby girl and named her Jet Diamond. Right away he noticed that she had laser sharp eyesight, and as she grew, her ability to see through dust and hypocrisy grew stronger.

She wears all black glittering with diamonds, and is accompanied always by her canary, Blink.

She is extremely sensitive to coaldust and can only spend a little time in dusty, murky environments before the air gets to be too much for her lungs.

She rides in on her jet black motorcycle, sees through the shams and shoddy deals constructed by rich men, and helps the workers see what they can’t see and stand up for their rights.

Then she rides out of town so fast a thunderstorm can’t keep up with her.

Bonus step: If this superhero were to show up at your door for an emergency meeting, what would they need to tell you? Would they need your help? Would they have some advice for you? Would they alert you to danger?

I imagine Jet Diamond riding up after she’s had a long, tough battle. She’s worn out, and afraid she isn’t up for the challenge anymore. I make her a cup of tea and have her tell me the whole story. Then I tell her she needs to take a break and go easy, and she insists there isn’t time for that and she needs to save the world, but then she falls asleep on the couch and I take off her boots and lay a nice cozy blanket over her.

Aside from the fact that this scene that plays out in probably every movie ever made about a superhero (and I am casting myself in the faithful butler role), what does this tell me about my own life? Maybe I’m taking myself a little too seriously. Maybe the best thing to do is take a nap. Maybe I get a little carried away with the desire to save people and be the hero. It’s okay to take a break. It’s okay to do things just because you feel like doing them. It’s okay to let other take care of me sometimes. Or even better, to take care of myself.

But who knows, maybe next week I’ll see a whole different message.

Extra bonus round: using the exact same prompts in step 2, invent a supervillain.


Hey there! Is this right up your alley? If you’re in Portland, you can come to one of my free Sunday morning workshops and experience it firsthand! Or if you want to go deep, you can join a Creative Workout Group, or work with me one-on-one

Try this: A VISUAL SYLLABUS

Today as I was dreaming up the trajectory for the next round of the Creative Workout Group (there are still spots open if you want to sign up! I would love to have you there) I got the idea to make a visual syllabus.

I taped a big piece of paper on the wall, wrote the numbers 1-6 (one for each class), wrote the big themes we’d cover under each number, and then drew a picture for each.

IMG_20150310_131235It was so much fun and I highly recommend it if you’re trying to figure out the big scope of a project.

  • Write the name of your big thing at the top of a big piece of paper
  • Divide the big thing into chunks — could be classes, chapters, months, weeks, hours, years
  • Write the names / numbers of the chunks on the paper
  • Draw what will happen in each chunk of time (the word ‘chunk’ is unfortunate but I’ve chosen it and I’m sticking with it)
  • If you want, write action steps, exercises, reading to be done under the drawing. In my case it’s a breakdown of how each class will go — the structure, the exercises we’ll use and any relevant reading material.

I love the one I made because it gives me visual pleasure, which helps keep me connected to why I’m doing this, what I love about it and how it fits into my big picture.

On not praising, not giving advice, and drawing your feelings

I’ve been reading the book How to Talk So Kids Will Listen & Listen So Kids Will Talk in preparation for the approach of (duh duh DUHHHHH) the toddler state.

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What, me tantrum?

It’s a fantastic book, and what’s fascinating is how much of their advice about how to communicate with kids applies just as well to adults.

In particular, these three techniques struck me – I notice myself using them in sessions as a creative guide, and I think they are wonderful tools we can all use to communicate better.

1) Unhelpful vs. helpful praise

As they put it, “praise can be tricky business. Sometimes the most well-meant praise brings about unexpected reactions.”

In particular, these reactions:

  • Praise can make you doubt the praiser.
  • Praise can lead to immediate denial.
  • Praise can be threatening.
  • Praise can force you to focus on your weaknesses.
  • Praise can create anxiety and interfere with activity.
  • Praise can also be experienced as manipulation.

What works far better is “helpful praise”, which is descriptive rather than evaluative.

“If you describe with appreciation what you see or feel, the child, after hearing the description, is then able to praise himself.”

The problem with words that evaluate – good, beautiful, smart, awesome – is that they draw attention to your judgment as the praiser, instead of the person or thing you’re praising.

So if I say, Wow, what a beautiful painting, you are likely to think, She’s bullshitting me, or Jeez, she thinks that’s beautiful? or I don’t think it’s beautiful at all, or What’s she going to think of the next one… etc etc etc. But you are not likely to think, My painting is in fact beautiful.

On the other hand, if I focus on what I see and feel in response to the painting, you can decide for yourself what to do with that information.

I could say, I see a lot of color in this painting. Or, This painting reminds me of a field I used to run in as a kid. Or, I love the way the paint is layered on the canvas.

Do you see the difference? One is an evaluation and stops the conversation – one opens the door to a larger conversation that is much more interesting than good job/bad job.

2) The futility of giving advice

“When you give immediate advice to children, they either feel stupid (‘Why didn’t I think of that myself?’), resentful (‘Don’t tell me how to run my life!’), or irritated (‘What makes you think I didn’t think of that already?’). When a child figures out for herself what she wants to do, she grows in confidence and is willing to assume responsibility for her decision.”

I think the exact same thing is true of adults. And what they recommend doing instead is this:

  • Help her sort out her tangled thoughts and feelings.
  • Restate the problem as a question. (They also suggest that you “keep quiet after you’ve asked a question like this. Your silence provides the soil in which the child’s solutions can grow.”)
  • Point out resources your child can use outside the home.

The more I think about it, this book is basically a manual for being a Creative Guide. I can’t think of a better description for how I work with people than those three things.

3) The usefulness of drawing your feelings

“… the one activity that seems most comfortable for parents to watch, and most satisfying for children to do, is to draw their feelings.”

They describe this scene between a mother and her 3-year-old:

“’I knelt down, handed the pencil and pad to Joshua, and said, ‘Here, show me how angry you are. Draw me a picture of the way you feel.’ Joshua jumped up immediately and began to draw angry circles. Then he showed it to me and said, ‘This is how angry I am!’

I said, ‘You really are angry!’ and tore another piece of paper from the pad. ‘Show me more,’ I said…. When I handed him a fourth piece of paper, he was definitely calmer. He looked at it a long time. ‘now I show my happy feelings,’ he said.

How interesting that we as adults would rarely think of doing this!

Can you imagine? Next time you and your partner / mother / best friend / co-worker get into a fight, imagine saying this:

Hey, partner.

You seem frustrated. Can you draw your feelings for me?

Wow, that IS frustrating!

I am frustrated too, can I draw what I’m feeling for you?

I am going to start using this as a conflict resolution tool and see if it works! I’ll report back, and if you try it, let me know how it goes.

I also love the cartoons in the book to demonstrate what to do and not to do, like this: