Going Places

I am continuing to open up paid subscription issues like this one to everyone through the end of the month, in case they may help someone deal with the challenges of the current crisis a little bit better.

Dear friends, welcome to Ad Astra. It’s so wonderful to be able to welcome you here.

This week, I was watching Russell Brunson, a self-made entrepreneur and YouTuber, tell his life story in one of his videos. Russell’s high-energy (some would say aggressive) style is not something I particularly enjoy, but amidst his bombastic speech, there was a message that resonated with me (in fact, it’s a message I hear — and try to spread — often):

Becoming a master is a process. Don’t expect to get good in the blink of an eye.

Stories of overnight success abound on social media and in our psyches, but that thing truly doesn’t exist. To get good at something — anything — you have to spend time honing your craft.

So that’s the topic I’d like to discuss today: becoming a master.

“The most important possible thing you can do is do a lot of work.”

By far, the question I get most often from folks is “How do I get published in National Geographic?”

To me, a more appropriate question would be “What should I be doing every single day to become a master at X (where X is the thing that you most desire for yourself)?”

Last I checked, there were 22,136 images in my Lightroom processing software. These are not all the images I have ever taken, nor the images I have taken in the past four years since I started on this path.

These are the images that I have imported from my hard drives and edited in the past four years. That’s roughly 16 images a day, every single day, for the past four years, that I have actively worked on.

The first Nat Geo assignment happened roughly 16 thousand edited images into this path.

The numbers here are not important. What matters is that we do something to hone our craft consistently, over time.

And that’s how we get closer to mastery.

Ira Glass, a beloved host of This American Life, explains this better than me:

“Nobody tells people who are beginners — and I really wish somebody had told this to me — that all of us who do creative work … we get into it because we have good taste. But there’s a gap: for the first couple years that you’re making stuff, what you’re making isn’t so good, OK?

It’s trying to be good, it has the ambition to be good, but it’s not quite that good. But your taste — the thing that got you into the game — your taste is still killer, and your taste is good enough that you can tell that what you’re making is kind of a disappointment to you.

A lot of people never get past that phase. A lot of people at that point, they quit. And the thing I would like to say to you with all my heart is that most everybody I know who does interesting creative work, they went through a phase of years where they had really good taste and they could tell what they were making wasn’t as good as they wanted it to be — they knew it fell short, it didn’t have the special thing that we wanted it to have.

Everybody goes through that. And for you to go through it, if you’re going through it right now, if you’re just getting out of that phase — you gotta know it’s totally normal. And the most important possible thing you can do is do a lot of work — do a huge volume of work.

Put yourself on a deadline so that every week, or every month, you know you’re going to finish one story. Because it’s only by actually going through a volume of work that you are actually going to catch up and close that gap. And the work you’re making will be as good as your ambitions.

I took longer to figure out how to do this than anyone I’ve ever met. It takes a while, it’s gonna take you a while — it’s normal to take a while. And you just have to fight your way through that, okay?”

Watch the full video, Ira Glass On Storytelling, here. I highly recommend watching it as a regular level-setting exercise for anyone with a goal of mastering a skill (it could relate to your creative work, yoga practice, or any new endeavor you’re hoping to take on). I certainly have days when I feel as if I’ll never reach mastery and that’s when I refer back to this video.

You belong

Even if it doesn’t feel this way right now, you belong in the space you yearn for. You have the passion, the taste, the desire to be in this field and that’s half the battle already. You might not have mastered the skill yet, but you belong.

It may be hard to keep at it (as Ira Glass says, many people never get through this phase), but if you do stick with it, you will eventually start closing the gap between the great work in your vision and the actual work you produce.

What can we do to help ourselves in this process?

Here are some of my thoughts (let’s use photography as an example but you can apply it to many other fields):

* Become the connoisseur of your chosen field: look at the work of other photographers and analyze what makes it good. Become a frequent visitor of sites like LensCulture or Aperture. “Consume” quality and you’ll start discerning what quality in your field looks and feels like.

* Practice your skill every day: you don’t have to whip out an expensive camera gear (although getting comfortable with your gear is also important), but you can take images with your phone every single day to get better (and check out #The100DayProject for inspiration)

* Work on your impostor syndrome: You belong. Get to know people who are doing what you’d like to be doing so that you can see: they are humans just like you who likely push through their own impostor syndrome and feelings of inadequacy on a regular basis. “I never went to photography school. I don’t have any special skills. Who am I to get this assignment?” — these were my thoughts when I started working with Nat Geo. I kept reminding myself that I belong in this space.

Most importantly, do not quit. Keep going on your path. Most of us quit too soon. And the ones that stay on the path eventually gain mastery in their field and reach the vision that they had imagined.

Onwards,

Yulia

This week’s joy links:

* I’m reading Debunking the Myth of the 10,000-Hours Rule: What It Actually Takes to Reach Genius-Level Excellence by Brain Pickings’ Maria Popova (lest we blindly follow the 10,000-hour rule on our road to mastery)

* I’m listening to Mgzavrebi, a Georgian 🇬🇪 music band (bonus: scenes from sun-drenched Georgia that make you feel like you’ve just taken a trip there)

* I’m watching Killing Eve, a bloody, sexy thriller in which two smart, powerful women face off while becoming obsessed with each other (what could go wrong?!)

I am continuing to open up paid subscription issues like this one to everyone through April, in case they may help someone deal with the challenges of the current crisis a little bit better.

Dear friends, welcome to Ad Astra. It’s so good to have you here.

This week, I struggled a bit coming up with a theme for this newsletter. I have a long list of topics to cover, but every time I’d sit down to approach any of them, no words would come out. In short, my inspiration decided to take a break. It’s normal and it happens to everyone.

And yet, I couldn’t skip a week just because my inspiration was lackluster. I made a commitment to myself and to you ⁠— my readers ⁠— for weekly issues. Skipping one wasn’t an option, so I sat down to write anyway.

And here, in the paragraph above, lies the answer promised to you in the subject line.

(I’m experimenting again with the audio version of this newsletter. At the suggestion of a friend, I’m going to try to make it more conversational. Check out the audio version if you prefer to listen to — rather than read — your content.)

The secret to reaching your dreams is commitment

I often get this question in emails, DMs, and comments on social media: “How did you become a travel photographer and writer, published in great magazines, traveling for work and creating stories?” (Sometimes the question is posed like this: “Your life is a dream, how do I get one too?”)

I suspect that what people want to hear in response is some sort of a “secret formula”, a “get-there-quick” action plan, a “golden ticket” to the destination of your dreams.

Alas, reality is often more prosaic than that. There is no formula for becoming someone you want to be overnight. No meaningful, lasting changes happen in a blink of an eye.

The truth is boring and the secret to reaching your dreams is simple: you have to commit to your path.

In the years since I’ve quit my job, I’ve had many opportunities to abandon my path. At times, it felt more attractive to just give up, find another job, get a paycheck, and stop fighting for my dream life.

But I guess I have issues with non-commitment. Once I’ve started something, I am compelled to see it through. And in a way, this attitude made sticking to this path a little bit easier for me.

“Time is short, my strength is limited, the office is a horror, the apartment is noisy, and if a pleasant, straightforward life is not possible then one must try to wriggle through by subtle maneuvers.”

— Franz Kafka

I love this quote by Franz Kafka; in it lies the wisdom for reaching your dreams. Sometimes, our path is straightforward and we transition from one step to the next with ease. Other times, all we can do is wriggle through by subtle maneuvers. What matters is that we keep trying and keep moving forward, no matter how hard the path gets.

Side note: when I first started on this path of becoming a travel photographer and writer, I devoured Daily Rituals: How Artists Work. This 300-page book documents the sometimes strange, sometimes rigorous habits and practices that creative people throughout centuries — Albert Einstein, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Ayn Rand and a lot more — have employed in order to accomplish work they love.

Sticking to habits, another word for commitment, largely ruled.

No one becomes a professional in a chosen field overnight. In the Middle Ages, the system of apprentices learning from master craftsmen was widespread. It took a long time, often years, to become a master.

And yet, the age of Instagram influencers has convinced us that we can just show up and be successful right away. No matter how many followers one has, overnight success is still a (quite harming) illusion.

Commitment to your path is essential. It increases your chance for success because you’re willing to try repeatedly for a breakthrough.

Elizabeth Gilbert supported herself with waitressing jobs for years before she struck gold with Eat, Pray, Love (and she called herself a writer, not a waiter, all those years). Harrison Ford struggled as a carpenter in Hollywood before becoming a star. Alan Rickman, Viola Davis, Julia Child, J.K. Rowling — the list of people who could have given up numerous times but stuck with their dreams is long and illustrious.

So what does this have to do with YOUR innermost dreams and desires or with me pushing through lack of inspiration for this newsletter issue?

Dream → Action → More Action → Habit → Commitment

Your innermost dreams and desires will forever stay in the dreams zone unless you start taking action. (Taking action once in a blue moon doesn’t count.) You have to act consistently, over time, to create more action that turns into a habit, and later, commitment. This is the only way I know that works for reaching your dreams.

That’s why I didn’t skip this issue. I’ve committed to my path and this week, I encourage you to think about what committing to your path may look like for you.

Onwards,

Yulia

This week’s joy links:

* I’m reading In The Midst of Winter by Isabel Allende

* I’m listening to Stephan Micus, a German musician and composer heavily influenced by the music around the world and traditional instruments

* I’m watching Last, a Korean drama (I’m on a streak!) about the underbelly world of Seoul and how small decisions can gradually turn a good man into an evil one

Here’s an on-going list of pandemic relief resources:

* Hello Alice is offering $10,000 grants for small businesses affected by the pandemic

* Google is offering ad credits to small businesses with active accounts

* The founder of Spanx is giving a $5,000 grant to 1,000 female entrepreneurs to help alleviate the immediate needs and support the long-term recovery of those impacted

* New York Foundation for the Arts has created a list of emergency grants for artists offered by various organizations

* The NatGeo emergency fund for journalists is giving grants to journalists who provide local coverage of the pandemic (includes photographers, videographers, filmmakers and more).

* Here’s a very thorough list of resources crowdsourced by the Freelancers Union ranging from legal help to emergency funds to state-specific resources (thank you to Carrie from Lyman Creative for pointing this one out!)

* Ann Friedman (creator of Ann Friedman Weekly) is currently donating all her newsletter ad revenue to organizations or individuals whose lives and livelihoods are affected by the pandemic. You can nominate someone here.

* Facebook is making $100 million in cash and ad credit grants to small businesses impacted by COVID-19. Details to come soon here.

* Here’s a list of financial institutions offering relief to customers experiencing hardship.

* Know of another resource I should list in the next issue? Hit reply and let me know.

Finally, if you find any joy or value in this labor of love, please consider supporting it by becoming a paid subscriber below. And if you already subscribe: THANK YOU.

I am continuing to open up paid subscription issues like this one to everyone through April, just in case they may help someone deal with the challenges of the current crisis a little bit better.

Dear friends, welcome to Ad Astra. It’s so great to have you here.

For the past few weeks, I have been dealing with an issue: at random times throughout the day, I’d feel extremely sleepy and tired. So tired that sitting in front of my laptop for more than a minute would be akin to torture.

I’d try to power through it, but before I knew it I’d find myself mindlessly scrolling through Facebook or skipping through Instagram Stories. No work would get done.

I’d call myself a lazy bum and return to my laptop, trying to muster my concentration and focus. A few minutes later, I’d be back in the same loop.

Like many around me, I’ve lost a lot of work in the past few weeks. A photo editor I’ve been discussing a project with (before this thing started) has graciously emailed to let me know that he’s been put on furlough. All of my travel projects to date have been halted, indefinitely.

In this time of crisis, people who base their identity and sense of worth around the work they do (myself included) can fall into a pit.

Today I’d like to discuss how we can get out of it.

(Stay tuned for next week’s issue where I’ll cover ways to find creative work right now.)

And if you haven’t yet, give a try to the audio version of this issue: I’ve finally figured out new software and the quality has improved quite a bit from previous episodes.

Where worth comes from

Across the industrial world, and especially in the United States, we’ve been made to believe that our worthiness comes not from the simple fact that we exist, but from the work we do, the money we earn, the accomplishments we can tout, and the number of hours we place on the altar of productivity.

I’ve found this a terrible way to live when your sense of worth is based on some external conditions. Perhaps that’s why, through my years of travels, I’ve been inexplicably drawn to Eastern philosophies and regions of the world where ‘wasting the afternoon away’ is a common way to be (note the choice of wording for that particularly Western phrase).

“I am worthy because I exist” has been a tough lesson for me to learn, but I’m slowly getting better at mastering it. (How? Keep reading.)

This week, in particular, I found it soothing to listen to Krista Tippett from the On Being project ponder on this issue. You can listen to this wonderful (and short) segment here: At home, frustrated, and stressed — is 'just being' worthy right now?

Krista posits that being kind to ourselves and settling into ourselves right now is a gift we can offer to the world beyond this crisis.

What a radical thought, right? (and yes, I am being sarcastic here.)

You have been forced to enter empty time.The desire that drove you has relinquished.There is nothing else to do now but restAnd patiently learn to receive the selfYou have forsaken in the race of days.

…

You have traveled too fast over false ground;Now your soul has come to take you back.

Take refuge in your senses, open upTo all the small miracles you rushed through.

Become inclined to watch the way of rainWhen it falls slow and free.

…

Draw alongside the silence of stoneUntil its calmness can claim you.Be excessively gentle with yourself.

Stay clear of those vexed in spirit.Learn to linger around someone of easeWho feels they have all the time in the world.

Gradually, you will return to yourself,Having learned a new respect for your heartAnd the joy that dwells far within slow time.

— Jonh O’Donohue

Exceedingly kind

This week, inspired by John O’Donohue, I made a pledge to be exceedingly kind to myself.

How?

Like with many issues of the mind, our transformation starts with awareness. First, we need to become aware of thoughts that enter our mind, then we practice redirecting them, substituting negative ones with better options.

I found morning meditation to be an incredibly helpful tool. I've been meditating daily since last summer and in the past week, I’ve switched the focus of my meditations to practicing self-kindness.

(I touch on the subjects of awareness and meditation here, here, and here.)

After I meditate, I write down the message I want to remember on a piece of post-it. Throughout the day, I return to it often and it helps me keep the focus on this intention.

Here are my messages from this week:

And please note, this language — “I love you,” “My love,” “You’re doing the best you can” — is NOT natural to me. My tendency is to engage in negative self-talk. But even after a week of doing this consistently, I’m feeling the soothing effect and, most importantly, I am starting to change how I talk to myself throughout the day.

Finally, this week I gave in to the urge to rest. I took a nap at 1 pm this Wednesday and another one at 3 pm on Thursday. And I didn’t feel guilty about either of them.

I’ve realized that my body is smarter than I am and in this time of crisis, I need to follow its lead.

I (mostly) don’t feel bad about not being productive all the time and I’m hoping to bring this practice of self-kindness forward when this particular crisis is over.

So, here is my wish for you this week:

See if you can bring a little bit more self-kindness into your days. We are all dealing with many issues right now, ranging from anxiety to fear to sadness to the very real loss of income, and health, and well-being. Let’s be kind to ourselves. We are worthy.

Onwards,

Yulia

This week’s joy links:

* I’m reading This Is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone

* I’m listening to Anouar Brahem, a Tunisian oud player and composer

* I’m watching Chocolate, a Korean drama about food and healing

Disclaimer: I know I have privilege. I am able to work from home, safely, while many others cannot afford to do that. If you or someone you know is struggling, know that you are not alone. Here’s an on-going list of resources I’ve found so far:

* The NatGeo emergency fund for journalists is giving grants to journalists who provide local coverage of the pandemic (includes photographers, videographers, filmmakers and more).

* Freelancers Relief Fund is offering financial assistance to cover essential expenses like food, utility payments, etc.

* Here’s a very thorough list of resources crowdsourced by the Freelancers Union ranging from legal help to emergency funds to state-specific resources (thank you to Carrie from Lyman Creative for pointing this one out!)

* Ann Friedman (creator of Ann Friedman Weekly) is currently donating all her newsletter ad revenue to organizations or individuals whose lives and livelihoods are affected by the pandemic. You can nominate someone here.

* Facebook is making $100 million in cash and ad credit grants to small businesses impacted by COVID-19. Details to come soon here.

* Here’s a list of financial institutions offering relief to customers experiencing hardship.

* Know of another resource I should list in the next issue? Hit reply and let me know.

Finally, if you find any joy or value in this labor of love, please consider supporting it by becoming a paid subscriber below. And if you already subscribe: THANK YOU.

Dear friends, welcome to Ad Astra. I’m so glad you’re here.

For this week’s issue, I decided to get away from it all: the C-word, the news, the anxiety, and the flood of advice on how to work from home, how to be productive during quarantine time, how to quell your worry, or how to wash your hands.

Instead, I’d like to share with you a story I wrote in 2015 when I was on the verge of quitting corporate (in fact I wrote it exactly nine months before I quit).

One year later, this story was picked up by Lonely Planet for their annual travel anthology (you can see it here).

Without further ado, I present to you “The Night Is Young.”

The Night Is Young

My guide Mohammed dismounts his camel, takes off his worn leather sandals and steps on the hot desert sand. The onset of dusk is adding a hint of sorcery to the dunes that loom all around us and I can no longer see the homes of Merzouga village behind the rare Saharan palms.

I cling to my camel, Bob Marley, and follow Mohammed into the desert for an overnight stay.

Bob Marley’s flesh is hot against my skin. The sun is still strong and I am grateful for the elaborate red-cloth turban Mohammed tied on my head a minute ago. Through the narrow slit in the turban, I track Mohammed’s indigo tunic, lit in the ochre dunes, as he guides us deeper into this land. I lose sight of him when we cross a large dune — a sleeping giant — and realize that a camel thread in Mohammed’s hand is the only tie connecting me to another human.

I have to believe that the thread is strong enough.

Bob Marley takes careful steps, sinking to his knees but coming back out each time. After a while, the camel and I get into an ancient rhythm, advancing as one through the desert.

The quiet dunes surround our small caravan and at times seem to cover us whole. Still, we keep going. Mohammed gazes far beyond the horizon and charges ahead as if an invisible path were etched into the dunes.

I catch the last glimpse of the sun before the next slanted dune hides it from view. The air cools down and my camel perks up. The night is quickly falling on the Sahara and Mohammed’s slim silhouette is dissolving into the darkness.

I pull on the camel thread to ensure we are still connected. As if he is sensing my fear, Mohammed turns and sends me a bright wide grin. He must be only a kid, eighteen or twenty at most.

I realize I don’t know much about him, except that his family lives in a nearby village. By the time I go back to New York, he’ll take ten other people on this nightly trek.

I too will have business to attend to upon my return, an unfinished conversation.

It began years ago when I started my corporate career and soon recognized this path was not right for me.

Unhappy with my status quo but afraid to change it, I continued working and tormenting myself and my loved ones for years.

At last, one mild spring night in New York a close friend had asked me, “Why are you wasting your years on something you do not care for?”

The question hung unanswered that night but kept simmering in my mind all the way to the African continent.

Mohammed suddenly breaks the silence with his first words to me, “Algerian border.” He points somewhere far, smiles, and says it again, “Algerian border, there. We are close.”

Ten minutes later our caravan stops at a low valley formed by a circle of barely visible dunes. I say good night to Bob Marley as Mohammed helps me dismantle. The camel, unfazed by my good manners, lies down for the night and we step into the dark.

The sand is now cool to the touch, a welcomed change from the earlier furnace. I drop my bags and run up the nearest dune.

There, on top of the mound, the first star of the night emerges into view. In vain, I try to decipher its elusive flickering message and finally go back down.

Below, Mohammed unhurriedly tends to a fire, looking graceful and fragile at once. I half expect him to turn around and tell me, “You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed.”

Instead, he pours me a hot cup of tea — ‘Berber whiskey’ — a mixture of fresh mint leaves and odd mountain herbs that grow in the nearby mid-Atlas mountains.

The tea soothes my body, sore from the two-hour trek across the shifting dunes.

Mohammed takes out a large cylinder drum from Allah knows where and starts humming a simple tune, gently at first, but louder and louder with each rhythm.

Zamaza, zamaza

A-zibi-bauwi-zibiba

Asalam-aleykum a mama

Asalam-aleykum a baba

Zamaza, zamaza

A-zibi-bauwi-zibiba

I pick up another drum, smaller in size, and join in.

Zamaza, zamaza

A-zibi-bauwi-zibiba

Asalam-aleykum a mama

Asalam-aleykum a baba

Zamaza, zamaza

A-zibi-bauwi-zibiba

Mohammed pours me more tea and I look up at the skies. The earlier single star of the night has bloomed into a plentiful garden of light, with myriads of tiny and large constellations weaved into one bright carpet.

This richness of space, lost on the city dwellers, is re-igniting a fire I thought to be almost dead. I run back up to the dune and throw up my hands. “Fearless,” I whisper. “Be fearless.”

Oceans away, I finally say out loud what I could not bear to speak of before. I am afraid to drop all the piled up expectations. I am afraid to fail. I am afraid to be vulnerable with my life.

Driven by fear, I continue to make choices that steer me away from all that is risky and grand — creativity, freedom, passion.

I have become a passenger in my life, watching the years unfold to someone else’s scenario.

The stars keep shining as I cry and fall into the sand. My fear, acknowledged, quietly walks off the dune.

Some minutes later, I find Mohammed sitting atop the same dune, his face barely visible under his heavy turban. Only his eyes are alight, twinkling as they reflect the lights of the fire below.

We sit together in silence for a while, surrounded by stars, and then start our descent. As we slide down, Mohammed offers his second and last words of the night to me. “The night is young,” he says.

The night is young.

Onwards,

Yulia

This issue (part of the paid subscription) is open to everyone, just in case it may help someone deal with the challenges of the upcoming weeks a little bit better.

Hi friends, welcome to Ad Astra. It’s so wonderful to have you here.

You’ve likely seen this sentiment going around the internet this week:

It’s been surreal to see our lives grind to a halt as we all watch this pandemic march through the globe. I hope you’re taking care of yourself and your loved ones and staying safe.

We don’t know how long this period will last, so let’s try not to waste our strength on feeling anxious, fearful, or angry. This, too, shall pass, one way or another. Love, compassion, and level-headed behavior is what we need right now.

This week, I had a strange realization: this crisis is exactly what my fears have warned me about when they told me to stay at my stable job, hunker down, and forget about my dreams.

It’s surreal. Usually, our worst fears don’t come true. But when the travel industry ⁠— and with it, the rest of the world ⁠— has stopped operating in a matter of days, MY worst fears did realize.

As a travel photographer and writer who also leads other people on trips, this is my worst-case scenario. I’ve had several work trip assignments canceled, the bookings for my travel company are up in the air, and it’s unclear how the industry as a whole will recover.

A freelance travel journalist’s income is haphazard at best during normal times and right now, it’s nonexistent.

So why do I feel so calm? How am I able to carry on while my industry is on fire? This is what I’d like to cover today.

Under pressure

There’s a part of my life I rarely talk about that, I believe, has prepared me well for this time. It’s the reason I can pursue risks with less fear. It’s why I keep calm in situations of stress and anxiety.

Back when I was a green 21-year-old, I joined the US military, specifically the Navy. And while there were a lot of challenges and hardships associated with my service (someday I’ll get into that), the Navy taught me how to operate under extreme pressure.

In the Navy, I was part of an expeditionary aviation unit where every day we launched our pilots up in the air in old flying machines from the 1960s. One wrong part installed, one inspection step missed, and our pilots could die.

So we followed processes to the proverbial t. We had checklists and SOPs (Standard Operating Procedures) for everything you could think of, and we trained, trained, trained every single day.

Why did we train so much? Because after all that training came the time for us to deploy and actually execute what we trained for, in even more stressful conditions.

In my four years of service, I spent two and a half years training in Washington State and one and a half year deployed to Iraq and Afghanistan during the global war on terror campaign of the early 2000s.

You may wonder, “What does this all have to do with me and the uncertainty I face at the beginning of 2020?”

What I’d like to propose to you is that this pandemic and the disruption it’s likely bringing to your doorstep is akin to deployment for military personnel.

Both are stressful. Both are scary. And both can be prepared for, physically and mentally.

In the spirit of my Navy times, I offer you my version of a deployment checklist (yes, that was a real thing we used) below. I hope that this checklist can help you feel a little bit better about the current situation and perhaps prepare for the next time uncertainty hits.

1. Get your bare minimum

During our Iraq deployments, we often experienced sand storms. These were weird moments when the daytime sky went dark from all the sand that a strong wind called shamal brought over the land.

When you’re in the middle of a storm that can last for days, you take everything down to a bare minimum. Food, shelter, medicine, clothes — check. If you have that covered, you’re already doing better than so many people on earth.

2. Assess your rainy-day fund

If you’re a freelancer like me, do you have your rainy-day fund? How is it looking?

Perhaps right now it’s not possible, but when the storm subsides, can you find other sources of income that you can rely on? What other skills can you offer that are related to your main area of expertise?

Here are a few of the skills I earn with when the travel assignments dwindle: social media management, graphic design, copywriting, marketing consulting, and website development.

We all know something that can be useful for other people. And if you’re struggling to identify what that might be in your case, consider enlisting the help of your friends or people in your network. Sometimes they can see what you can’t and can offer great insights into your skillset.

(And if you’d like, reply to this newsletter and we can brainstorm your situation together, too.)

3. Use this time as an opportunity to downsize

Every time the deployment loomed over me, I went through the process of downsizing my life. Because our deployments usually lasted 6-8 months, they caused significant disruptions. What should I do with my rental apartment? Where do I store my car? What do I do with all my stuff?

I love this quote by Glennon Doyle that reframes the time of crisis and disruption as a gift.

You have been offered "the gift of crisis." As Kathleen Norris reminds us, the Greek root of the word crisis is "to sift," as in, to shake out the excesses and leave only what's important. That's what crises do. They shake things up until we are forced to hold on to only what matters most. The rest falls away.

⁠— Glennon Doyle

If your bare minimums are taken care of and if you’re able to keep earning for a roof over your head, consider using this strange time to reassess … well, everything in your life.

As we’re forced to stop going out, shopping, spending money on entertainment, and following our routines, this could be a way for us to find a new (and improved) normal.

The lockdown could help you identify what you truly need to keep spending on and perhaps reach your financial goals faster. (The only thing I won’t cut is my vino fund… but everything else is up for grabs right now!)

The social distancing could help you realize that some people in your network were influencing you in a negative way and give you a good excuse to limit the interaction.

The quarantine could help you understand what simple things make you happy and find ways to experience them more often in your day.

The opportunities here are endless… and the perspective you use to go through this difficult time is crucial.

We may be inside of a storm right now, but every storm, ever, in the history of this planet, has eventually ended. This one will end as well.

Onwards,

Yulia

“The world is always going to be dangerous, and people get badly banged up, but how can there be more meaning than helping one another stand up in a wind and stay warm?”

⁠— Anne Lamott

⬆️ Much Loved, a photo project by Mark Nixon documenting childhood toys loved down to bare threads

Disclaimer: I know I belong to the privileged part of society. I am able to work from home, safely, while many others right now cannot afford to do that. If you or someone you know is struggling, know that you are not alone. There are resources available and I’ve listed just a few below:

* Here’s a very thorough list of resources crowdsourced by the Freelancers Union ranging from legal help to emergency funds to state-specific resources (thank you to Carrie from Lyman Creative for pointing this one out!)

* Ann Friedman (creator of Ann Friedman Weekly) is currently donating all her newsletter ad revenue to organizations or individuals whose lives and livelihoods are affected by the pandemic. You can nominate someone here.

* Facebook is making $100 million in cash and ad credit grants to small businesses impacted by COVID-19. Details to come soon here.

* Here’s a list of financial institutions offering relief to customers experiencing hardship.

* Know of another resource I should list in the next issue? Hit reply and let me know.

Finally, if you find any joy or value in this labor of love, please consider supporting it by becoming a paid subscriber below. And if you already subscribe: THANK YOU.

Dear friends, welcome to Ad Astra. I’m delighted to have you here.

This issue, Your Survival Guide to Working From Home, was originally going to be for paid subscribers only (if you recall, paid subscribers get three additional issues each month). I’ve decided to open it up to everyone, just in case it may help someone deal with the challenges of the upcoming weeks a little bit better.

If you’ve ever spoken to an editor or been in one’s shoes, you’ll recognize this dilemma: how do we continue with normal programming in times of crises and major disruptions?

Especially in travel, the community I am part of, every publication worth its salt is asking this question right now. Do we continue to cheer on far-flung locales while travel bans are disrupting our lives? Or do we switch our coverage to COVID-19, because it’s on everyone’s minds?

In my view, there is a fine line between staying true to your publication’s purpose — topics that readers come to you for and expect to find on your pages — and covering something that’s urgently weighing on many people’s minds.

I’m going to try to walk that line today.

And while I am not delving into the topic of this pandemic directly (I am not an expert in pandemics; all I know right now is to wash my hands, stay home, and protect my loved ones who are especially vulnerable), I’d like to cover the topic of working from home.

⬇️ me not working from home last weekend

Chances are, you will be working from home in the foreseeable future.

Well, this is a topic I can contribute lots of insights to — I have been part of the WFH movement for the past four years.

When I first quit my job (read about it here), I was elated to join this movement.

Yes to a laptop in bed!

Yes to conference calls in pajamas!

Yes to the freedom that comes with setting your own hours.

The reality, as is often the case, is not as glamorous as it sounds.

Working from home has its advantages (and yes, I’ve simplified my choice of outfits dramatically over the past four years) but it comes with its own challenges — isolation, lack of structure, guilt, blending of work and life, your household not treating your “office time” as such…

I’ve dealt with all of that and today, I offer you my insights on how to survive when you’re WFH:

Learn to stop feeling guilty about getting more done in less time

I found that since I’ve transitioned from office work to working from home, I am able to accomplish much more in less time.

How is that so?

I haven’t suddenly turned into a superwoman, so here is my explanation: I waste less time.

Consider this: when you’re working from home, all the things that used to take up time in your workday — commute, standing at the coffee line, waiting for meetings to start, small talk — are no longer there.

The only distractions to fight off now are trips to the fridge and browsing your favorite social media platform. Inevitably, you focus more on what needs to get done for the day and you accomplish it faster.

The trick is to stop feeling guilty about it.

Somehow, we believe that we should be working at least eight hours a day (thanks Industrial Revolution!).

That may work well for a job at the conveyer belt, but if you’re engaged in any kind of intellectual work, that won’t do. Our brain simply isn’t set up to work for eight hours straight. (This UK study found that workers, on average, are productive for only about three hours in their eight-hour workday.)

In this week’s NPR interview, journalist Celeste Headlee gives an interesting explanation for where my guilt may be coming from:

“Headlee believes some of America's obsession with work can be traced back to Martin Luther and the Protestant Reformation in 16th-century Europe. Ideas about working your way to heaven, Headlee explains, "meant that every idle hour was one in which you were not earning your spot with the divine. ... It was your work that made you a good person. And therefore, obviously, if you're not working all the time, you should feel guilty."

I’m not completely there yet, but I am learning how to stop feeling guilty about not working all the time.

One approach that is helping me: I’ve stopped looking at the hours I spend working each day and instead, I look at the important outcomes. Every morning, I jot down three most important things to accomplish today and I work until they are done.

The rest is my time. (Sometimes, that means I take a nice lunch with a friend and sometimes it means I continue working until I drop. It’s a process.)

Find your optimal hour and be methodical

Related to recognizing your newfound efficiency is learning when your best, most productive time is. I call it your optimal hour.

For me, that time is early in the morning, so I structure my workday accordingly. If I have an article due, I get up extra early and put my writing in before the day’s distractions roll in. (I cover this approach here.)

I’ve learned over the years that my productivity drops sharply in the afternoons, so I do all the important, brain-power-required work in the morning and I reserve the afternoon for emails and tasks that are less taxing.

When you’re working from home, it’s harder to have a structure. That’s why sticking to a schedule that builds on your quirks is important. It helps you feel good about your accomplishments and spend your workdays well.

The other thing to keep in mind is that WFH requires us to be more aware of our physical behavior.

I use an app called Stand Up! that reminds me to stand up once every hour (you can set your own interval).

This approach helps to set up your work in units: work for 45 minutes, rest for 15.

That way, you’re giving your brain an opportunity to take a break after 45 focused minutes and your derriere is not falling off by the end of the day because you’ve been sitting on it for the past ten hours. Speaking from experience..!

Protect your space

I’ve fallen into this trap multiple times: since I am working from home, I can work from anywhere in the house, right?

Wrong: the bed is really not the place for you to be answering emails. Over the years, I’ve found a nook where all my work items are held and I consider this nook to be my office in the house.

Why is that important?

When we work in the office, we are able to leave work at work at the end of the day. Our conference rooms, our desks, and our work laptops stay there (let’s leave our phones out of it for a bit). Our brains start to rest when we exit our office building.

When you work from home, your work and your home are slowly becoming one and the same. And that means your brain never really rests.

That’s why creating strict boundaries between your workspace and the rest of your home is crucial when you WFH. My bedroom, for example, has a strict no-laptop policy and I rest better because of it.

Beyond physical boundaries, consider creating boundaries with your loved ones.

I suspect that Martin Luther has something to do with this behavior as well: sometimes, people don’t consider your work “actual work” because you’re sitting at home all day.

If your loved ones ask you to pick up groceries every once in a while, that’s fine. But if they expect you to be able to do non-work related tasks on the regular, be firm and stand your ground. Working from home is still working and everyone should respect that.

Be kind to yourself

This is probably the most difficult lesson I’ve had to learn… so far. Just like any other change, working from home is an adjustment and it takes time to go through it.

We are not robots (thankfully!) and we can’t just flip a switch and maintain the same output when our environment changes. When a disruption happens, we can’t be expected to continue business as usual.

And right now, it’s definitely not business as usual. If that means you go take a nap in the middle of a workday, so be it. If it means some of your projects fall through the cracks right now, so be it.

Recognize that, admit that you’re only human, and please, be kind to yourself as you’re working from home this spring and perhaps, into the rest of the year.

Onwards — and be safe,

Yulia

P.S. As this week seemed to fall apart particularly quickly, I am starting to think that the phone-free challenge is going to be a necessity for me going forward. I’m definitely continuing with it today and I encourage you to join. For one hour this Sunday, I’m going offline. I’ll report it in the phone-free challenge thread for accountability and share my results with you. You can join the thread here.

Dear friends, welcome to Ad Astra. It’s so good to have you here and thank you to everyone who’s joined us since last week.

We’re two months into this newsletter journey! It makes me so happy sharing everything I know on the subjects of creativity, pursuing your dreams, becoming a professional storyteller, and living boldly — thank you for giving me this opportunity, for tuning in, and for providing such kind feedback.

Today I’d like to dig into a subject that seems to be quite popular with many of you: quitting your job and taking a plunge into living your life a little bit ⁠— or a lot ⁠— differently.

I’m going to share with you the exact path I took to get where I am today. I hope that it inspires you to make some changes or start making plans to change your life for the better.

First, a little bit of housekeeping. I got a new, better microphone, so if you prefer hearing stories rather than reading them, check out the audio file. (It should be much better than when we first started!)

Today’s issue is a bit longer than usual. Alas, quitting a job is a big topic.

Alright, let’s get started.

Part I. The Breakdown.

In the Fall of 2015, I was miserable. By all external marks, I had “made it.” I was a brand manager in a top global corporation. I earned a six-figure salary and rented a beautiful apartment on Upper West Side in Manhattan, a dream come true.

But every night as I came home from work (usually around 9 or 10 in the evening), I cried in my pillow. I worked all my waking hours, nights and weekends too. Most of the time, I felt like a zombie, tied to my laptop, praying to the holy trinity of the early twenty-first century — Email, Powerpoint, Excel.

I felt like I had no right to feel bad about my predicament. Yes, many people don’t enjoy what they do, but that’s why it’s called a job, right? And wasn’t I living in the best city in the world? And what if all I saw of it was a rush-hour subway disaster? And what about all that money I was making, the first in my family to ever do so?

I was an immigrant coming from a poor background and it was especially difficult for me to admit that the summit I’ve reached, with my MBA and a cushy salary and stock options and a nice title, turned out to be full of empty words.

So I drudged on, dying a little inside every day. I kept telling myself all the things we tell ourselves to get through our work week. I lived in a constant state of slumber, barely waking up on the weekends, only to return to the dead zone come Monday.

Honestly, I was a wreck.

I saw no value in the job I was doing (“hey, let’s sell another widget to consumers #becausecapitalism makes the world go round!”) and I didn’t know how to get out. Worse, days turned into weeks, weeks turned into years, and a sinking feeling was filling me up with cold sweat: this could be it. This could be my life.

The status quo would probably go on forever… but the absurdity of it finally got to me. I started having issues with my back, no longer able to sit at my desk in the office. My body was smarter than I was and it began giving me signs that something had to change.

Looking back now, it seems as if everything that happened to me that fall was smartly designed by the universe. As my back gave in and I reached burnout, the brand I was responsible for hit rock bottom after years of sales declines. Then one day, just like that, I found myself no longer employed by the company I worked for.

This was my ticket out. I could chalk it up to ‘bad cultural fit’ and get right back into the game. My new gig was only a recruiter’s call away.

But I didn’t call a recruiter. Instead, I decided to use this as an opportunity to explore what else in life is out there.

Insights for you:

I realize that unless I reached this very low point, I probably would not have made this jump. That’s just the reality of how humans behave. We avoid risk at all costs, even if the “safer” status quo is really bad for us.

What can you do with this knowledge?

First, don’t wait till you reach a low point. If you have any inklings telling you that your current job or the way you’re living is not working for you, start looking for ways to explore other modes of living and working while keeping your day job. For example, see if you can arrange a sabbatical at your company before you reach the point where drastic measures are needed.

Second, you need a rainy day fund. There’s just no getting around that. You can make this calculation on a napkin right now. How much money do you need each month to a) pay all your bills and b) have sustenance? Multiply that by six, or better yet, twelve. That’s your very minimal rainy day fund (I like to call it the screw-it-all fund). Even if you are living paycheck to paycheck, you can save up for this fund by giving up all but the absolutely necessary expenses. You’d be surprised to see how much all our lattes and Netflix and wine bar outings add up.

Making changes in life often amounts to what we are willing to give up in order to reach our vision. If you’re not willing to give up your comforts, that’s totally fine — it just means that your idea of quitting a job is more of a nice thing to think about rather than an action you truly want to implement.

Part II. Freedom.

I was free! For the first time in years, I had no job to worry about, no manager to keep accountable to, no mountains of emails to sift through. Nothing!

It was an exhilarating time.

Because I was miserable in my corporate jobs pretty much as soon as I graduated with an MBA (read: I entertained my escape plan for years), I knew what I would do next. I’d go around the world for six months, decompressing, processing what had happened, and deciding what to do next.

That’s exactly what I did.

In January of 2016, I flew to Thailand. I spent a month biking through Chiang Mai, Bangkok, Koh Yao Noi, and everywhere in between.

I lived in Vietnam in February, traveling from Saigon to Hanoi by train and rejoicing in $1 phở bò and phở gà noodle bowls on the streets.

I then crossed over to Turkey and spent one month in a cozy apartment in Istanbul’s Cihangir, a neighborhood minutes away from Galata Tower. This was a dream come true as I’ve always wanted to rent a flat in Istanbul, the city my soul is from.

In April, I ate pizza at a small eatery in Rome.

In May, I floated on the soft waves of the Aegean Sea while staying at a luxury resort in Crete (and yes, pampering myself after ‘roughing it’ for months was part of the plan).

In June, I returned to the United States. It was now time to figure out what my next step should be.

Insights for you:

The freedom phase should take as long as you (and your screw-it-all fund) would allow. My original goal with this phase was to figure out what I should do next. I learned instead that my first priority should be recuperation. For these six months, I didn’t do anything but travel, eat, sleep, swim, explore, relax, repeat. I felt guilty about it at first, but after a while, I got used to it! I also realized that this period was necessary for me to recharge my batteries.

Try selecting places where your resources would go the farthest. That was partly why my route took me to Southeast Asia and Turkey, for example. I spent very little on food and accommodations for most of my six-month trip: it is possible to do this without breaking the bank.

Part III. The Rising (aka Figuring Out).

I believe that many of us have got it all wrong about the way we live.

Somewhere around the Industrial Revolution and the birth of capitalism, the western world has become obsessed with this idea of productivity and never-ending growth.

If you’re standing in one place, you’re already behind. If you’re not working or putting in 80-hour weeks, you’re failing. If you’re not doing anything, you’re not worth anything.

Even writing these lines right now gives me anxiety.

Whose idea was it that this is a path toward a good life?

The biggest benefit of my six-month freedom trip was a quiet realization that a different way to live is possible.

I started doubting all the concepts societies feed us from an early age. I began the painstaking process of shedding my old systems of thinking.

I realized that job security was a myth, perpetuated in order to keep societies stable. In what sense? Until you’re a useful cog in the machine, you’re ok. But never mistake that for genuine care. Corporations were not designed for care. They were designed for profit.

(Just ask me about a friend of mine who loyally served one very large financial corporation for years, only to be forced to uproot his whole life in the US after one bad review because he “had no champion” in the organization and the corporation would no longer sponsor his US work visa.)

Our systems teach us to follow the rules. Go to this school, get that job, start a family, and then you'll be a functioning and a deserving member of the society (particularly for women, real stigma still exists on many of these life choices).

For centuries, this system has worked well for controlling societies, but it is a recipe for a limited life: limited in what we can create because the system doesn’t reward the rebels who go outside its boundaries.

Upon my return to the United States, I knew that what I’m after — freedom of working from anywhere, independence, working for myself, entrepreneurship, creative life, freelancing — is a difficult road. There aren’t many rules and there isn’t a blueprint, similar to the one we’re given in our traditional societal structures, to follow.

I asked myself: “Am I ready for this road or should I ‘come to my senses’ now and return to corporate?”

For me, the answer was clear. Once I have experienced the freedom of only working on projects that light my fire, once I have tasted what it feels like to live a creative life, I could not return to the old way of being.

Go and make interesting mistakes, make amazing mistakes, make glorious and fantastic mistakes. Break rules. Leave the world more interesting for your being here. Make. Good. Art.

— my favorite rebel, Neil Gaiman

So, little by little, I started. I began figuring it out.

I started developing relationships in the travel media industry. I started reaching out to outlets and publishing my stories. These efforts were haphazard at first; I was poking around in the dark.

But this is where human ingenuity comes into play.

I believe that once we begin to move in the direction of our dreams, the universe responds to our efforts. If you don’t like to call it the universe, call it good luck, or hard work paying off, or anything else. But efforts matter. Intent matters. Taking steps toward your vision matters.

One of my dream magazines, Afar, published my first story about a year after I left corporate. From there, my efforts grew like a snowball, culminating in my images and words finding a home on the pages of National Geographic last year.

Since I left corporate, I never once regretted my decision.

There have been doubts and fears but never regret. I’ve been on some amazing assignments in places like Mongolia, China, and Rwanda, created work I’m proud of, and launched a travel company.

If it sounds like I have it all figured out, rest assured: I don't. After all, I am only human. But there is one thing I know for sure — you will never know what life you’re capable of living until you start taking steps toward it.

Insights for you:

The first principle is to act. So many people stay in the ‘what if’ zone, but until you start acting, nothing will happen.

Sometimes, you have to act really quickly.

Case in point: the same week I returned from my trip, I found out about a conference happening a few hours away from me. I learned that a man I’ve been trying to get in touch with — an editor at the Turkish Airlines in-flight magazine, Skylife — would be in attendance. This was a Tuesday and the conference was starting that weekend. In a matter of half a workday, I ordered myself some business cards and booked a rental car and an Airbnb. A few days later, I was on my way to the conference. I attended the session this man gave, stayed after he wrapped up, introduced myself, explained my connection to Turkey, and exchanged business cards (yay for overnight shipping!). Months later, my first story in Skylife was published and I’ve since published many more. Sometimes, you just have to act.

The second principle is patience. There is a reason most people never take the leap. There is a reason many businesses fail. It’s really hard to make a living on your own or start a new business and make it successful. If you have the patience and the stamina to bear instability, insecurity, financial worry, self-doubt and still keep going, then it is possible!

Time is your enemy here but it is also your friend. There is no way I would know four years ago what I know now. The knowledge comes from experience and from living through this journey every day.

And finally, the principle that is the most important — and also the most nebulous — is daily work on yourself.

What do I mean by that?

Some time ago, I was fortunate enough to be in a room full of founders, entrepreneurs, inspiring and successful people. Looking across the table, I realized that I didn’t see many people like me. Women. Veterans. Immigrants. People from disadvantaged socioeconomic backgrounds.

When I was growing up, nobody told me that I could be anything I wanted to be in this world. Nobody took me to piano lessons, and advanced computer labs, and soccer practices after school. I didn’t grow up in Silicon Valley, with a two-parent family, middle-class income.

I’m not saying this to justify the reason Mark, and not I, became a multi-billionaire founder of Facebook.

I am saying this to highlight that in life, many of us around the world don’t start at the same line. We start way, way back behind the start line. And when we do show up in those rooms, it’s a testament to the daily work we perform to overcome the struggles and challenges that could be a novelty to someone who’s never had to feel like “the other” or worry about their mom working too many jobs.

So in order to keep changing the appearance of those rooms, all of us have to do the work we feel called to do.

For me, that meant quitting my brand manager job and becoming a travel photographer, writer, and entrepreneur. It meant taking risks, making mistakes, acting, and believing that what I want is possible. It meant stepping forward and trusting that a path would appear where I step (hint: it always does).

What does that mean for you?

Onwards!

Yulia

P.S. Here are the discussions you might have missed: taming self-doubt, rethinking your relationship with money, and working through fear with a worst-case scenario exercise.

Like what you’re reading? Consider becoming a paying subscriber and getting full access to all the posts. Today is the last day to get the early subscription fee.

P.P.S. I launched a course for aspiring travel photographers and writers! Get details here.

Hi friends, welcome to Ad Astra and thank you to everyone who’s joined us since the last issue! It’s so good to have you here.

First: a quick reminder.

This issue is open to everyone and so will be the March 1 issue. To get access to the three issues in between, consider subscribing below. If you sign up in the next four weeks, the subscription is going to be $5 a month going forward. Think of it as taking me out to coffee, once a month, and getting four opportunities to read my thoughts on the topics of creativity, living boldly, and chasing your dreams while you’re at it.

After March 1, the subscription is going to be $6 a month (or $65 a year if you choose an annual subscription).

Ok, now onto today’s topic. I’d like to dig into the anatomy of a story: what this process looks like for me from beginning to end.

I’ll use this story I created for AFAR Magazine as an example. It’s one of my favorite stories to date.

Prelude: inspiration or curiosity?

Inspiration is everywhere if only we pay attention. The source of our next story (or a project, or a creative endeavor) can often come from the most unusual direction. And it needn’t be something massive, either. It doesn’t even have to qualify as our passion to feel inspiring to us.

I love the way author Elizabeth Gilbert frames this: she talks about choosing curiosity over passion.

Why?

Passion is intimidating. “Follow your passion,” we often hear. But what the heck does that mean? We have no idea, and so we just freeze up and get discouraged on the road to creative living.

Elizabeth Gilbert offers us a much more approachable choice. Instead of trying to figure out what our passion is, we can follow the ‘breadcrumbs’ of curiosity.

Does that book on 18th-century hat fashion pique your interest? Pick it up.

Does spending an afternoon in a letterpress studio sound like a good idea? Go there (I actually did just that once in Brooklyn).

Curiosity gives us a stress-free way to explore our interests. And over time, these tiny breadcrumbs (or “hints from the universe” as I like to call them) add up and point us in a direction that we could choose to pursue.

How does choosing curiosity over passion relate to today’s discussion?

I got curious about Turkish tiles two years ago and today, the topic of reviving old artisan traditions is becoming one of my specializations. In the process of creating this story (and a few others after), I discovered that I really enjoy working on this subject. My curiosity, not my passion, led me here.

Inception: always read your friends’ blog posts

Some time ago, I was scrolling through my good friend Erol’s website.

Erol is an incredibly talented designer, creative director, and an inspiration to me. (We met on Instagram!)

About halfway through his journal, I stumbled upon a single image of a lovely blue and white floral dish, accompanied by Erol’s crisp description: “SOURCE — İznik blue and white dish (c. 1480–1500) sold by Christie’s to the Detroit Institute of Arts.”

The image and the words piqued my curiosity. I followed this blue and white rabbit down its stunning floral hole.

I learned that Iznik tiles from Turkey have been legendary during the Ottoman Empire times. Today, cheap Iznik replicas fill the streets of Istanbul but real Iznik, as I learned from Erol and Christie’s, can sell for as high as half a million dollars!

The story idea was born.

Fermentation: take your time and don’t skip your research

I now had a kernel of an idea but it wasn’t enough to form a story proposal or approach publications. I needed to do more research.

For the next few weeks, I’ve read all I could find on the internet regarding Iznik tiles.

I learned that what makes Iznik tiles so vibrant is a secret sauce of ingredients called sır (translated as ‘secret’ from Turkish).

I learned that this secret had been lost with the fall of the Ottoman Empire. Although unfortunate, this event made the story’s potential all the more interesting through a touch of history’s drama.

Finally, I discovered organizations in Turkey that have been working on reverse engineering sır and reviving the craft. One of these organizations set up operations in the town of Iznik, the original home of the tiles.

My plan of action was starting to take shape.

Execution: resourceful is the name of the game

Luckily for me, I had an upcoming trip to Mongolia on an assignment with Turkish Airlines. I arranged a four-day stopover in Istanbul on the way back: just enough time to go to Iznik, learn the basics of the craft, document the process, and even visit places in Istanbul where real Iznik tiles can be spotted or purchased.

Why luckily for me?

Because the days when magazines send photographers and writers on all-expenses-paid assignments are nearly gone. (If you spot one of these opportunities in the wild, do let me know!) Stacking several assignments on one trip is often how we make the finances work.

Side note: this — trips for travel media professionals — is a topic for an upcoming issue. Stay tuned!

Because I did my research during the fermentation stage, the execution went off without a hitch. I was on a tight schedule so it was important for me to arrange meetings ahead of time and to know where I needed to go on which day to gather my story materials.

I loved walking the streets of Iznik, a sleepy town of bygone fame near Istanbul.

I marveled at the process of making the tiles, each painstakingly crafted by hand (compare that to cheap replicas made by machine-stamping patterns onto the tiles).

I enjoyed Iznik so much that I never expected to find my most poignant encounter for this story in Istanbul, meters away from the Blue Mosque in Sultanahmet, Istanbul’s touristic corner. (You can read about that in the finishing paragraphs of the AFAR article.)

And that’s what I love most about the work I do.

I love meeting people who care deeply about their craft.

I love being touched by a piece of living, breathing history and helping shine a light on it for new audiences.

I love pursuing my curiosities and getting paid for it.

I love sharing my knowledge and experiences with you and getting your feedback.

I love knowing that what I do matters (even if just a bit).

So thank you for joining me on this journey. You have already given me your support by letting me land in your inbox once a week. It means a lot in our crowded world and I hope that the stories you’ll keep finding here will be worthwhile for you.

Onwards!

Yulia

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P.S. Ad Astra is a weekly discussion on these four topics:

* Living Your Boldest Life: tools, tips, and strategies on pursuing big projects, such as pitching National Geographic or launching a company

* Going Pro: my tips on quitting the job you don’t want and becoming someone you want to be instead (in my case: a writer, photographer, and entrepreneur) 

* Putting Your Imagination To Work: insights on storytelling and creativity, i.e. creating a winning pitch or coming up with ideas, consistently

* Personal Growth: how not to stand in your own way to your dreams and on being human with failures, doubts, and struggles (we all have them!)

One issue a month is available to everyone and three issues are available for paid subscribers.

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After March 1, 2020, the regular subscription is going to be $6 a month (or $65 a year if you choose an annual subscription).

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There are two reasons:

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*What is Ad Astra? It’s part of a Latin saying ‘per aspera ad astra’ which means ‘through difficulties, to the stars’

Hi friends, welcome to Ad Astra! It’s so good to have you here.

Today I want to discuss a topic that carries many names: being your own boss, forging your path, taking a road less traveled, following your dreams...

Take a moment and think about work (perhaps your own, or that of your friends and family). Does the structure of work you’ve just thought of look more or less the same, or does it vary greatly from person to person?

At its core, employment hasn’t changed much since the Industrial Revolution. We go to work, we clock in, we clock out, we get a salary. We help create and then execute plans for how to grow an organization, sell more widgets, gain more customers, increase revenues, and so on. We give our time, efforts, brainpower, and enthusiasm and in exchange, we gain security, status, certain financial freedom, and validation.

When that equation works, it’s wonderful. There is nothing wrong with being gainfully employed by someone, being good at what you do and enjoying it, and reaping the rewards. Perhaps contrary to a lot of popular opinion on Instagram and elsewhere, I believe that not everyone wants to be an entrepreneur, a freelancer, a hustler, or his or her own boss — and that’s great!

Unfortunately, that equation did not work for me. I’ve reached the American dream, with my MBA and my six-figure salary, but what I found there wasn’t fulfillment or joy, but a lot of stress and a goalpost that kept moving further and further away.

The times, they are a-changing.

Even though the employment model has largely remained the same since the Industrial Revolution, our world has changed drastically. We experience greater mobility than our parents and grandparents ever did, jet hopping from New York to Casablanca in a matter of hours. We can work from anywhere, which was unthinkable in an era of conveyor belts. We seek from life a greater sense of fulfillment, we strive to be our best selves, we want to actualize our dreams and potentials.

I see this shift happening in many conversations that are bubbling up all around me. And I think it is a worthwhile endeavor to pursue the dreams and visions that go beyond your current job or profession. As one of my favorite poets, Mary Oliver, says: “The most regretful people on earth are those who felt the call to creative work, who felt their own creative power restive and uprising, and gave it neither power nor time.”

I think this applies more broadly than creativity though: if you hear a call that beckons you away from what you currently do, you have to honor this call and give it power and time. (And by a ‘call’, I don’t mean that you would know exactly what you were put on this earth to do, but that you’d recognize that what you’re currently doing is not it.)

The most regretful people on earth are those who felt the call to creative work, who felt their own creative power restive and uprising, and gave it neither power nor time. — Mary Oliver

The day I walked out of my office for the last time was the scariest and the happiest day of my life. That day, I set out on a precarious journey of building my vision. I did not know exactly how I was going to do it, but I knew I needed to start. The security of corporate employment, real or imagined, was no longer enough to justify staying in a career that was not the right fit. So I took the leap and transitioned to a different lifestyle, pursuing my lifelong dream of becoming a travel photographer, writer, and entrepreneur.

I had no blueprint of what to do. Our schools, organizations, and societies don’t teach us how to forge our own paths. They teach us how to fit into a system that still follows that old employment model. So I had to learn the hard way: by trial and error.

Over the last four years, I’ve hit many dead ends. I’ve also made progress and learned a few things from this wild ride. Today, I want to share my essential ten with you:

1. Get used to people telling you ‘no’.

We often don’t act on our ideas simply because we are afraid to hear ‘no’ in response.

The objective here is to get desensitized to rejection. A good way to practice hearing ‘no’ is to approach people on the street and ask for things. I’ve asked a barista for a free cup of coffee and a man on a street for $5. I’ve offered a hug to one passerby and a compliment to another. Most of the time, people will look at you funnily and say ‘no’. Sometimes, they’ll stop and talk to you about what you’re doing. Occasionally, this small conversation leads to an unexpected, positive outcome. The whole time you’re learning that a ‘no’ in response to your inquiry is not the end of the world.

2. Don’t give up.

Most people give up too soon. Like any ambitious project, building your vision is a marathon. The acclaimed Eat, Pray, Love author Elizabeth Gilbert faced thousands of rejections before her first story was published. ”The Accountant” star Anna Kendricks could barely afford rent while she was on a PR tour for ‘Up in the Air’. If you are serious about going after whatever it is that brings you joy, be prepared to stay in the race for a long time (and check out this cartoon, “The Iceberg Illusion”).

3. You’ll likely need to wear many hats to make it work.

Breaking in as a newcomer in any industry without prior experience or connections is not easy. When I first started as a travel journalist, paid assignments were few and far between. To stay the course, I needed to diversify my income streams. This has meant starting marketing consulting projects, launching social media gigs, even walking dogs on weekends (whatever it takes!) as I nurtured my new career.

Figure out what skills you have to offer — we all have some.

Better yet, ask your friends what skills do they think you have. Your friends may be better than you are at recognizing your unique strengths.

4. You will need more time and money than what you originally planned for.

When I started on this path, I gave myself six months (!) to ‘make it’ before I even knew what ‘making it’ looked like. There were two things wrong with that goal: too nebulous of an objective, too short of a timeframe. I’ve since readjusted and reworked my goals, recognizing that it takes time to build something great.

5. Institute a practice of relentless follow-up.

If you follow up on your inquiries, you will be more likely to get a positive response. And when a response is not a ‘yes’, learn the difference between a ‘no’ that means ‘I’m busy, and I don’t know you, so I won’t make the effort’ and a ‘no’ that means ‘I am not interested in what you have to offer’.

The former is an invitation for you to do a better job selling your idea, while the latter is a firm ‘no’. However, if you do your homework, the likelihood that a person you’ve engaged with is not interested in what you have to offer will be low.

6. Try as many things as you can between now and next Sunday.

You have to put yourself out there.

Sometimes, being your own boss is a numbers game. Find events, conferences, meet-ups, and people with similar interests. Try new things. When you bring forth enough projects into the world, some of them will bear fruit. That fruit may not be the one you expected, but it will be a fruit of your labor nonetheless.

7. Fear does not go away, but it becomes easier to be afraid and still act on things that scare you as time goes by.

Just like you exercise your body regularly, you’ll want to learn to exercise your ‘acting in spite of fear’ muscle regularly. It becomes easier with practice because our minds have this incredible ability to learn called neuroplasticity (and it doesn’t stop as we age, contrary to what we used to think). When you take a speaking gig and do it in spite of your fear of public speaking, your brain will record a ‘See? Nothing bad happened!’ memory. Next time, you will be a little more likely to take on another new thing that scares you.

(Side note: to dig deeper on neuroplasticity, check out this fascinating On Being podcast, The Magic Shop of the Brain.)

8. Embrace failure.

What would you do if you knew you could not fail?

What would you do if you knew you would fail for sure? Would you still proceed? Because failure is inevitable. Many of the paths you’ll take will lead nowhere. Until one day, completely unexpectedly, one path will suddenly open up to a field full of accomplished dreams and, better yet, new possibilities.

9. You are not alone.

Find other people who are trying to do something different. There are many.

The importance of having a community of people that have similar struggles and aspirations cannot be overstated.

When I left the corporate world, I felt incredibly alone and misunderstood, for who in their right mind leaves the security of that behind? Turns out, many people want to transition into a more meaningful work field. I’ve found my community. Find yours. (And stick around here because I am currently working on building a community aspect to Ad Astra as well.)

10. This could be the most difficult journey you’d ever take.

There will be doubt, fear, stress, and judgment. Some of your friends will estrange you. Your family will worry about you.

But this road will also bring you a lot of joy because you will have built it yourself, brick by brick, mistake by mistake, success by hard-earned success.

Perhaps for the first time, you’lI stop feeling that you are living someone else’s life and will instead have a strong conviction that you are headed in the right direction.

And that is something worth taking a risk for.

Have feedback or your own experiences to share? Reply to this email (it goes directly to me), I’d love to hear from you!

Onwards!

Yulia

Sign up below so you don’t miss the next issue (every issue is free until February 2, 2020).

P.S. Ad Astra is a weekly discussion on these four topics:

* Living Your Boldest Life: tools, tips, and strategies on pursuing big projects, such as pitching National Geographic or launching a company

* Going Pro: my tips on quitting the job you don’t want and becoming someone you want to be instead (in my case: a writer, photographer, and entrepreneur) 

* Putting Your Imagination To Work: insights on storytelling and creativity, i.e. creating a winning pitch or coming up with ideas, consistently

* Personal Growth: how not to stand in your own way to your dreams and on being human with failures, doubts, and struggles (we all have them!)

The newsletter is going to be free for the first four issues.

On February 2, 2020, I’m going to turn it into a mostly paid subscription content: one issue a month will be available to everyone and three issues will be for paid subscribers only.

If you sign up in the four weeks following February 2, the subscription is going to be $5 a month, going forward, forever. Think of it as taking me out to coffee, once a month, and getting four opportunities to ‘pick my brain’ on the topics above while you’re doing it.

After March 1, 2020, the regular subscription is going to be $6 a month (or $65 a year if you choose an annual subscription).

Why am I doing a paid subscription?

There are two reasons:

* I believe that what I have to say has value. I have accumulated the thoughts, tips, and strategies I am going to share with my readers in this newsletter in over FOUR years of experience going after my dreams and living boldly every day. This is a lived, breathed, and tried-and-tested insight that I am now putting out into the world. If you’re not willing to (or able to) pay for the subscription, that’s totally fine. After all, there is a lot of content already out there EVERYWHERE that you may search for on your own. But if you have $5 a month to spare and are looking to make some meaningful changes this year, then I believe this will be worthwhile to you.

* As a freelancer and entrepreneur, I do not receive a salary from anyone :) Every minute I spend on this effort is a minute I could be spending on sending out more pitches, hustling, trying to figure out where my next dollar will come from… you get the idea. So, as someone who gladly and willingly participates in the creative economy (and supports other people pursuing creative work), I believe that there are other people out there willing and ready to support my work. If you are one of them, join us, hit subscribe, and welcome to Ad Astra*!

*What is Ad Astra? It’s part of a Latin saying ‘per aspera ad astra’ which means ‘through difficulties, to the stars’ ✨

Hi friends,

Thank you to everyone who’s joined us since last week’s inaugural issue. Welcome to Ad Astra! It’s so good to have you here.

First: a quick announcement.

I modified the subscription model of Ad Astra a bit (bear with me please as I figure this out!). On February 2, 2020, I’m going to turn this newsletter into a mostly paid subscription: one issue a month will be available to everyone and three issues will be for paid subscribers only.

Ok, now onto today’s topic. We’ll talk about visualization and before you delete this email or skim through it skeptically, hear me out and let me show you why (and how) visualization works.

What is visualization anyway?

It is a process of imagining a future event in such crisp and full detail that you essentially are transported into that future event. It is also sometimes described as visualizing (or manifesting) your desired outcome that has not yet happened.  

Visualization goes hand in hand with meditation, but it doesn’t have to. It can stand on its own as a practice you can adopt into your daily life.

Why should you? Several things happen when you visualize something you’d like to achieve or bring into your life: 

* First, if done consistently, visualization helps you focus on your goal and take small action toward it every day. Small, consistent action every day is what keeps you moving forward toward your goal, so you are making progress every day.

* Second, by imagining yourself in this future event, you train your brain to ‘recognize’ the feelings, thoughts, and emotions that arise when you visualize something. You are essentially ‘training’ to become a different version of yourself that achieves the goal you are after. This is especially important if you’re working on something new or going after a crazy, seemingly unreachable goal that your brain has no experience with. 

* Third, visualization brings positive emotions into the day you do it so you can start your day energized and motivated to keep working on whatever it is that you’re after. This is important if you’re working on something novel or simply working in difficult circumstances. 

I found visualization to be an incredibly powerful exercise that I now practice every single morning. My first brush with it occurred sometime after I quit my corporate job. That year, I went on a six month trip around the world. The trip was incredible but when I came back stateside, I was in for a rude awakening. My peers kept on with their corporate jobs, got promoted, and otherwise seemed like they had it all figured out. I, with my dream of becoming a travel photographer and writer, had no idea what my next step should be. I was flailing. 

So one night, I sat down and decided to imagine what the next year of my life could look like. I did it not because of some wisdom, but because I simply had no idea what I should do next. So, I gave it some thought and then put to paper “the 10 things that Yulia will have accomplished by the end of next year.”

Looking back, I realize that doing this exercise was a pivotal moment for me. This 10-goal list provided direction and the next steps for me to move forward with. It gave me focus. And it reassured me that my dream is actually possible. A simple act of putting something to paper makes it concrete. And for our brains, it is easier to imagine something concrete than it is to imagine something nebulous. 

A simple act of putting something to paper makes it concrete.

(Seven out of ten goals on that list came true. And the ones that didn’t? I rolled them over to the next year and kept working on them consistently).

I am not the only one who uses visualization to their advantage.

Elite athletes go through step by step run-throughs of their performances ahead of the actual competitions. Public speakers and negotiators imagine the situations they are about to walk into as part of their preparation routine. Oprah used it to imagine Barack Obama’s inauguration and top executives use it to imagine — and get to — their success.

Why does it work? When you visualize something that doesn’t exist yet in your current reality, you train your brain in creating new mental patterns.

New mental patterns = new behaviors that help you create a new reality.

Incredibly, studies support this. In one study, people who imagined exercising daily gained new muscle (!). How? The process of visualization activates the same mental processes in the brain that control the actual, real-life movement of the muscle. Think of it as tricking your brain into doing something without you doing it in the physical space. 

(Side note: if you’d like to dig deeper on this subject, check out “Breaking The Habit of Being Yourself: How to Lose Your Mind and Create a New One” by Joe Dispenza. It’s a fascinating read that explains visualization through the lens of quantum physics, a world we’re just now beginning to understand.) 

When you visualize, you have to be specific about the ‘what’, not the ‘how’. For example, instead of imagining how you’re going to win a golf championship, focus on the scene where the championship committee awards you the trophy. Your brain, operating in current reality, may not yet know how to get to where you want to be, but once you give it a goal — the ‘what’ — it will start working on the ‘how’.

This Fast Company article explains it well: our brain picks up an incredible amount of information each day and then discards most of it (if it didn’t, we wouldn’t be able to function well). Who controls what information we keep and what we discard? Most of the time, it’s an unconscious process. Once you start visualizing and giving the brain a new ‘what’, it will start focusing on the information that supports it and noticing opportunities that you previously weren’t aware of. Before you know, events will start to unfold that support your desired reality. Some call it ‘magic’, but we may say that our brain is now actively recognizing the information that benefits our new goal, our new ‘what’.

How do I incorporate visualization into my life today?

I still do the goal-setting exercise every year (I used this guide by a friend of mine to integrate what I learned in 2019 and set new intentions for 2020), but I also recently started a daily visualization practice to help me stay focused on my goals (I’m on Day 52 as of this morning!). I don’t always imagine the same scene. Instead, each day I focus on different aspects of what I would like to bring into my life (i.e. relationships, specific accomplishments, the human I’d like to become, etc).

I began by using an app called EnVision, which offers a seven-day trial of its paid services. It’s a ten-minute daily practice that guides you through imagining a scene from your desired future down to the specific sounds, sights, and smells. I kept re-running the seven-day trial audio lessons until I got comfortable enough that I now do these practices on my own.

So, here is my challenge to you this week.

Even if you’re not compelled to check out visualization further, see if you can find some quiet time during one of the next seven days. Find a space where you can sit comfortably (and preferably, straight) and where no one can bother you. Take a few deep breaths and think about a pleasant event that you’d like to see in your life. This event may be something that is currently not possible or it could be something that you are looking forward to as it’s already ‘in the books’.

Start imagining this event down to the smallest details. What are you wearing? Where are you? What can you smell, hear, or see? Who are you with? Focus on the uplifting, happy emotions that this pleasant event stirs up in you. Perhaps you can notice where in your body you feel these emotions. Sit with this event for some time and then see how you feel before and after this exercise. Did it make you smile or feel a little bit better? If it did, you may want to start incorporating visualization into your daily life as well.

Have feedback or your own experiences with visualization to share? Reply to this email (it goes directly to me), I’d love to hear from you!

Onwards!

Yulia

Sign up below so you don’t miss the next issue (every issue is free until February 2, 2020).

P.S. Ad Astra is a weekly discussion on these four topics:

* Living Your Boldest Life: tools, tips, and strategies on pursuing big projects, such as pitching National Geographic or launching a company

* Going Pro: my tips on quitting the job you don’t want and becoming someone you want to be instead (in my case: a writer, photographer, and entrepreneur) 

* Putting Your Imagination To Work: insights on storytelling and creativity, i.e. creating a winning pitch or coming up with ideas, consistently

* Personal Growth: how not to stand in your own way to your dreams and on being human with failures, doubts, and struggles (we all have them!)

The newsletter is going to be free for the first four issues.

On February 2, 2020, I’m going to turn it into a mostly paid subscription content: one issue a month will be available to everyone and three issues will be for paid subscribers only.

If you sign up in the four weeks following February 2, the subscription is going to be $5 a month, going forward, forever. Think of it as taking me out to coffee, once a month, and getting four opportunities to ‘pick my brain’ on the topics above while you’re doing it.

After March 1, 2020, the regular subscription is going to be $6 a month (or $65 a year if you choose an annual subscription).

Why am I doing a paid subscription?

There are two reasons:

* I believe that what I have to say has value. I have accumulated the thoughts, tips, and strategies I am going to share with my readers in this newsletter in over FOUR years of experience going after my dreams and living boldly every day. This is a lived, breathed, and tried-and-tested insight that I am now putting out into the world. If you’re not willing to (or able to) pay for the subscription, that’s totally fine. After all, there is a lot of content already out there EVERYWHERE that you may search for on your own. But if you have $5 a month to spare and are looking to make some meaningful changes this year, then I believe this will be worthwhile to you.

* As a freelancer and entrepreneur, I do not receive a salary from anyone :) Every minute I spend on this effort is a minute I could be spending on sending out more pitches, hustling, trying to figure out where my next dollar will come from… you get the idea. So, as someone who gladly and willingly participates in the creative economy (and supports other people pursuing creative work), I believe that there are other people out there willing and ready to support my work. If you are one of them, join us, hit subscribe, and welcome to Ad Astra*!

*What is Ad Astra? It’s part of a Latin saying ‘per aspera ad astra’ which means ‘through difficulties, to the stars’ ✨