Life Is One Big Juicy Experiment

Learning to read the cues. Knowing when to lean in, when to stay the course, and when it’s time to jump ship because the experiment no longer serves.

In my opinion, experimentation is a muscle.

Some of us naturally gravitate toward it, while others were trained early in life to play it safe. Perhaps we were raised in families riddled with fear, anxiety, or worry. Perhaps we learned that the safest way to move through life was to avoid risk, discomfort, disappointment, or failure.

But experimentation invites us into unknown territory. And entering the unknown requires faith.

We are stepping through the portal of what we cannot yet see. It can be messy. It is not guaranteed to feel safe. It invites vulnerability. Courage. Possible disappointment and embarrassment. We might even fall flat on our arse.

And when an experiment doesn’t go the way we hoped, we can find ourselves experiencing what Brené Brown calls a “vulnerability hangover.” We exposed ourselves. We took a risk. We put ourselves out there. And now we’re left swimming in shame, self-doubt, or regret.

And yet…

Experimentation also invites movement. Possibility. New beginnings.

And that incredible satisfaction that comes when we overcome an obstacle. When we move toward our fears rather than away from them and discover that this new way of being is actually freeing.

There is a feeling of alignment.

Of flow. Of, “Ohhhh. THIS is what was waiting for me on the other side.”

When you meet or learn about people who are joyful, fulfilled, and successful, I can almost guarantee they have spent a lot of time in the realm of experimentation.

Over and over and over again.

Experimentation is an art form.

It’s like creating a new dish. Sometimes it takes a few tries. Sometimes more than a few. You adjust the seasoning. You change an ingredient. You try a different temperature.

And eventually…

Bingo. You’ve got something delicious.

Talk to almost any inventor or innovator and you’ll hear stories of failed attempts, wrong turns, near quitting, and the decision to give it one more try.

And sometimes that one more try changes everything.

Which leads me to the topic of commitment.

In our modern culture, I believe too many people have not had enough opportunities to exercise their “grit” muscle. Sometimes this comes from being parented by well-intentioned but overly protective adults. Sometimes it comes from a culture increasingly uncomfortable with discomfort, uncertainty, and struggle.

I see people jumping ship way too early when the going gets tough.

Marriages. Jobs. Friendships. Relationships. Ideas.

And I also see estrangement and “cancel” culture becoming substitutes for the much harder work of sitting down, looking inward, having difficult conversations, taking responsibility, and seeing if something can be repaired.

There isn’t enough of what I call mirror gazing.

Mirror gazing is the willingness to pause and reflect.

To ask:

What is mine here? What might I be contributing? What do I need to change? What experiment could I try before I decide this isn’t working?

It can be painful. It requires slowing down. Quiet. Honesty. And a willingness to become exquisitely vulnerable with ourselves.

Blame doesn’t grow us. Hanging out in the uncomfortable cauldron of our emotions can.

Even when it hurts like hell.

I am a huge fan of mirror gazing.

But here’s the caveat:

Too much self-reflection and too much responsibility can morph into over-responsibility.

And that is why I am such a huge fan of tuning in to our internal compass.

Our bodies. Our energy. Our knowing.

Because our bodies are constantly giving us information.

If we go to work every day and dread the prospect of being there… That’s information.

If we consistently feel sick to our stomach around a particular person… That’s information.

If our energy drops every time we walk into a certain environment… That’s information.

I see these sensations as invitations into experimentation.

And I am not suggesting that we jump ship at the first sign of discomfort.

Quite the opposite.

I believe in experimenting before exiting.

Try something. Have the conversation. Ask for what you need. Invite others into the change.

See what happens.

Perhaps you’re bored at work, so you talk to your boss about a different role, a promotion, or more responsibility.

And they say yes!

Lo and behold, your fulfillment button gets restored.

Perhaps an amazing couples counselor helps you untangle the webs that have been suffocating your partnership.

Perhaps a conversation with a friend, partner, or colleague goes far better than you imagined. The cleansing of an honest conversation allows you to become closer.

But maybe the opposite happens.

The answer at work is a flat-out no.

The other person in the relationship is unwilling to take personal responsibility after multiple attempts.

You’ve tried every angle. You’ve had the conversations. You’ve asked. You’ve listened. You’ve experimented.

And still, there is no movement.

Perhaps then the invitation is to leave the job. Or the relationship. Or the situation that no longer offers an opportunity for peace, growth, or alignment.

There is a sweet spot in experimentation.

And it can be really hard to read.

It’s not uncommon for me to meet new clients who have been hanging out in an experiment for far too long.

They’ve tried every angle. Every conversation. Every compromise. Every possible way to make something work.

And yet they remain stuck, stagnant, and miserable.

Often blaming themselves.

This is where discernment becomes so important.

Stay. Try again. Change something. Or go. There isn’t a formula.

But there is an internal compass.

In the coaching world, I am consistently and lovingly nudging my clients to experiment with new ways of being.

I walk alongside them. I remind them to tune into their bodies and their energy. To discover where their internal truth-tellers live.

Is it a gut feeling? Does their skin tingle? Does their chest tighten? Does their heart feel warm and open? Do they feel expansive? Contracted? Heavy? Light?

It’s beautifully different for every one of us.

Our bodies are incredible sources of information.

And learning to listen to them is a practice. A muscle. A lifelong experiment.

It is a delicate journey, and often one that needs support as we move from here to there.

So today, I invite you to put on your experimental cape. Start where you are.

It doesn’t have to be dramatic.

Make or try a new dish. Go to a new restaurant. Try a new hairstyle. Take a different route to work. Try a new fitness studio. Pick up a new hobby. Have the conversation you’ve been avoiding. Ask for something you’ve been afraid to ask for. Say yes to something that stretches you.

The list is endless.

And with every experiment, you build confidence.

“I didn’t die. I’m still here. And now I have a story to tell.”

That’s how we build the muscle. That’s how we develop grit. That’s how we discover what we’re capable of.

Keep experimenting. Keep listening. Keep looking in the mirror.

Stay in the uncomfortable zone when the experiment is still serving you. And have the courage to leave when it no longer does.

We are all here to discover more of who we are and to move toward the fullest expression of our lives.

So I’m sending you massive doses of courage, curiosity, and lightness as you step outside the confines of what is familiar and move into unknown…

And perhaps delicious… new territory.