I promised I would write about the process of discovering my genius.
Before I come off sounding too pompous, I should say that everyone has a genius by the definition I’m using, which I learned from Dick Richards. Before Christmas I got his book, Is Your Genius at Work? 4 Key Questions to Ask Before Your Next Career Move, and started to work through the exercises.
Richards describes genius this way:
You have a genius that is inevitably linked to your work and career. Everyone does. And each person’s genius is unique. Your genius can be thought of in a practical way: as the exceptional power that comes most naturally to you, as the process you undertake so spontaneously and easily that you do not notice it, and as the business in which you are engaged as a person. It can also be thought of in a mystical way: as the energy of your soul and as an answer to the question of why you exist within the human community.
The book describes, in clear and concise terms, the concept of genius and how it can help you achieve a stronger sense of identity and direction. It includes many exercises to help you pinpoint and name your particular genius.
Richards encourages you to include both a gerund and a noun in the name for your genius. His genius, for example, is Creating Clarity. Others are Engaging the Heart, Digging Deeper, and Searching for Clues.
At first I was thinking of my genius more as a practical skill. I toyed with the idea of Finding Solutions, because I really like the problem-solving involved with things like math, knitting, and writing: identifying something that’s not right and finding a way to fix it. But it didn’t quite feel right. Richards describes a “felt sense” when you hit on just the right name ~ an almost physical certainty that you’ve got it, and an experience that something tight has let go. I knew I didn’t have that with Finding Solutions.
I refined that genius further, into Applying Principles. In math, my expertise was taking the explanations in the textbook and applying them to the problems, rather than finding solutions on my own. In knitting, I research and read about other people’s experiences before trying to fix something, and I like to understand the inner principles of how a knit stitch is constructed. My writing took off when I got hold of William McKee’s Story and started applying the principles of plotting and story-telling to my own work.
That seemed a tidy answer, but again, no felt sense. The name was dry and clinical, and so was the skill it described.
I continued to go through the exercises in the book, and thought about it a lot, but I wasn’t getting anywhere.
Then, in the process towards finding my purpose, I stumbled into my genius totally by accident. I was doing an exercise where you quickly write or type your ideas for what your purpose is, and you keep going until you write something that makes you cry (another way of saying “felt sense”, I think). At #101 I typed, “To wrestle with the angel.” I have no idea where that phrase came from ~ I hadn’t just read the Bible story of Jacob, nor had I just listened to U2’s “Bullet the Blue Sky.” I can only think it came from my subconscious. The phrases around it seemed unrelated, things like “To not be satisfied” and “To live authentically.”
I carried on to #116 and typed, “To never give up.” And I got the felt sense. I had a rush of memories, times when I had been too stubborn to abandon something, even myself. The years that Shawn and I spent working out our relationship before we got engaged (he was my first and only boyfriend). The effort I put into healing from depression. Four years of work on our cohousing project. Then my eyes glanced back up the list to Wrestling the Angel. And I promptly dissolved into tears [I do that a lot, I guess. I take it as a gift, because it helps me know when I’m on the right track.]
For me, Wrestling the Angel is about hanging on until you get the blessing. There’s a price to pay, you may get wounded, but you don’t let go until you’ve achieved something better. And the process changes you, gives you a new name and identity.
I really recommend Richards’ book, especially in conjunction with discovering your purpose. Knowing my genius has helped me understand myself, and given me confidence to go in new and surprising directions (of which, more tomorrow).
[For another person’s story of genius discovery, check out Steve Pavlina’s post (he calls his genius Optimizing Results).]
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