Make Art ~ Be Happy

I need to share with you what happened this year.Not because I have it all figured out. But because I’ve been walking around asking myself how does that happen and I think I finally know.Fourteen months ago I had a mastectomy. A small, dark time. Scary in ways I won’t minimize. And yet, lying there before surgery, I had this belief. Not a wish. A belief. That I was going to beat this. That I was going to love my new body. That I was going to get a tummy tuck out of the deal, go to Paris, go to Scotland, attend art retreats in Idaho, and celebrate turning 70 in the most beautiful way I could imagine.I just got back from Scotland.I beat breast cancer.And I leave for Paris on Wednesday.How does that happen?Here’s what I believe: I set my expectations big. Really big. Expansive capacity. I let myself want what I actually wanted, not a smaller, safer version of it. And then I matched my energy to that belief.I think when most of us are about to try something new, something scary, something that matters we instinctively set our expectations low. We do it to protect ourselves from disappointment. From failure. And I get it. That makes complete sense.But here’s what happens when we match your energy to those low expectations. And maybe we don’t fail. Maybe we don’t get hurt. But we also don’t get the thing you actually wanted. That big, beautiful, best thing? We never even give it a real chance.I’m not special. Not in any way that makes me immune to hard things. This year had obstacles. In January, after I was declared cancer-free, I bled on the table during reconstruction and had to be transfused. I got an infection. I’m scheduled for my fifth revision surgery when I get home from Paris.There were hard days. There were scared days.But I never gave up on the big belief. Beat breast cancer. Live another 30 years. Draw on the streets of Paris.I kept coming back to it. Again and again.What’s the belief you’ve been keeping small?I’m not asking so you’ll share it with me, though you can. I’m asking because I want you to feel the difference between a belief that protects you from disappointment and a belief that actually has room for what you want.Your creative practice. Your art. The work you keep circling. What would it look like to believe in it — really believe in it — and match your energy to that?Don’t shrink what you want so you don’t have to feel the disappointment of not getting it. Expand. Set the belief so big that your energy has no choice but to rise to meet it. And when obstacles come and they will come you walk through them. You face them. You don’t give up on the belief.I’ll be in Paris later this week, drawing in the streets.I’ll keep sharing from there. Because these beliefs create things.I’ve seen it.I’m living it.And so can you.With love,Lynn This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit lynnhardin.substack.com/subscribe

This week I read a story about myself.Halfway through, I realized I didn’t recognize the woman in it.The article was written after an interview about my reconstruction journey at Hoag Hospital, after not getting the results I had hoped for at another prestigious health center. I felt grateful they wanted to tell the story.So I sat down with coffee and began reading.She sounded broken.Wounded.Like someone life had simply happened to.And I remember pausing and thinking, that’s not quite how it felt.Because what I remember most is kindness.Great nurses.A hug when I walked into the room.A surgeon looking at me and saying, “I’m going to take care of this. I’m going to take care of you.”Care everywhere, actually.Nothing in the article was wrong.But something in it belonged to an older story my brain knows how to tell.Years ago, when I was a principal, I often felt unseen. I worked hard. I carried a lot. Somewhere along the way my mind learned a familiar shape for things.Endure.Push through.Handle it yourself.Apparently that voice took the interview call.I didn’t notice at the time.So I rewrote the article.Not to fix it.Just to come back to what felt true.Because life is rarely this or that.It’s this and that.I have known suffering.And I have been deeply cared for.Both live in me.But I still get to choose which one leads.Sometimes nothing changes except the story we decide to live inside. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit lynnhardin.substack.com/subscribe

I was out for a walk today.Same pond. Same path. Different body. Different life.Almost exactly one year ago, I was here too. But then, I was walking with a walker after a bilateral mastectomy. One breast removed. One rebuilt using a flap surgery where they take fat from your belly and rebuild the breast.I had no idea what I was getting into.I only knew one thing.My health mattered more than anything else.This time last year, like so many of us, I was thinking about goals and wishes. New year energy. Fresh starts.But, when your health is shaky, you don’t have a long list of wishes.There’s an old proverb that says:When you have your health, you have a thousand wishes.When you don’t, you have one.I had one.I wanted my health back.At the time, my thinking wasn’t lofty or poetic. It was survival thinking. I just wanted to get better. I wanted to feel like myself again. And honestly, there were moments when I lost hope.People would sometimes say things like, “Don’t get your hopes up.”I remember thinking, Are you kidding me?I want my hopes all the way up.Hope was the thing that kept me moving.I thought it would be one surgery and done. It wasn’t. It was a process. A long one. A humbling one. One that asked more from me than I expected.But inside that wish to get my health back were real actions. Not affirmations. Not pretty intentions. Actual steps that came from managing my mind.Walking.Changing how I ate.Losing thirty pounds.Managing stress. Writing down my thoughts each morningShowing up to every appointment.Paying attention to my body in a new way.My driving thought or goal was I am going to beat this.At the moment I like the word wish more than goal.When you’re a child and you make a wish, you believe it can come true. Goals have always felt trickier to me. Like something I might fail at. And I know I’m not alone in that. So many women avoid goals because they don’t want to disappoint themselves again.A wish feels different.A wish comes from the heart.And mine came true.Today, I am in the best health of my life.My relationships are richer.My life feels bigger.My work feels more meaningful.I’m deeply grateful.So this year, my wish has changed.My wish for 2026 is to fulfill my purpose.To have a bigger impact on women who are trying to come back to themselves.To come back to their art.And to stay.One thing last year taught me is thisHope matters.Gratitude matters.And action matters.Wishes don’t come true by accident. They come true because we keep showing up, even when it’s hard, even when we’re scared, even when the path isn’t clear yet.If you’re holding a wish in your heart today, especially one that feels tender or big or slightly impossible, I want you to know this.I’m walking proof that wishes can grow into real lives.Thank you for being part of mine.With love,LynnIf this speaks to youIf you’re ready to stop circling your art and actually come back to it, The Practice waitlist is open. It’s a guided space to return to your creativity and learn how to stay. You’re welcome to join us here.Become a paid subscriber to get the full experience, in-depth guides, printable art practices, behind-the-scenes studio lessons, access to live workshops, and member-only gatherings that nurture consistency, confidence, and joy in your art.Thank you for being part of this circle. Whether you’re reading for free or supporting as a paid subscriber you help make Make Art Be Happy possible.SHARE THE WEALTH: Have a friend who does not think they are an artist or fellow artist struggling with a consistent art practice? Gift them a month of paid access with this special link: This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit lynnhardin.substack.com/subscribe

I just got back from my grandson’s transitional kindergarten classroom.There was art.There was relationship.There was that soft, steady feeling that happens when people are making something together.And it stirred up a memory I haven’t shared in a long time.My art practice began in 1989.I was married with a newborn. Elizabeth was just a couple of months old. My oldest son was four. My husband was a hospital administrator in Los Angeles. One afternoon he called and told me he’d had a deep needle stick from a dialysis needle. Because of insurance, he had to be tested.He tested positive for HIV.My world went dark.This was long before rapid tests. It took six months to get results back. Six months of waiting. Imagining. Spiraling. At that time, HIV felt like a death sentence. People were dying. We all thought we would.We didn’t all die. He passed away in 1992.God was not done with me.But during that stretch of time, something kept me going.I didn’t have an art practice yet. I came from crafts and projects, but nothing steady. I was also in a program for people whose lives were deeply impacted by alcoholism. It was a beautiful program focused on relationships, and relationships have always mattered deeply to me.There was a woman there, about the age I am now, who said something simple that changed everything:While you’re going through this, you need something you enjoy. Something that’s just yours.She told me how ice skating had carried her through her own grief.That’s when I decided to take up art.There was a local woman in Costa Mesa who taught watercolor out of her home on Tuesday nights. What she taught wasn’t just technique. It was body and soul work. It was mindset. It was relationship. Looking back, it’s strikingly similar to what I teach now.At night, when everyone was asleep, I would lay big sheets of watercolor paper on the kitchen floor and paint. Completely abstract. Nothing that looked like anything. I wasn’t trying to make art. I was painting feelings. Turning my head off. Letting my hands move when my mind couldn’t.That was my art practice.It saved my life then.And it has saved my life many times since.This is why I care so deeply about art practice now.We tend to think art is about technique. Taking classes. Learning skills. Watching someone else do it “right.” And then we wonder why we stop. Why we hit obstacles. Why we don’t finish. Why we feel disconnected or dissatisfied.Often, it isn’t the technique that’s missing.It’s the relationship.An art practice isn’t just about making something beautiful. It’s about having a place to land when life gets heavy. A way to stay connected to yourself when your world feels uncertain. A rhythm that holds you when everything else feels unsteady.Every time I’ve had an art practice in place, creativity has stayed with me.Every time I haven’t, it has quietly slipped away.That’s not an accident.This is why I believe so deeply that art is not a luxury. It’s a relationship. And when you tend to it, it tends to you right back.If you’ve drifted away, you’re not broken.You don’t need more discipline.You don’t need more talent.You just need a way back.If you are desiring to...• return to your art consistently• stop starting and stopping• create without pressure, guilt, or self judgment• build a relationship with your art that lastsI created The Practice for you (and me too)!If your heart is quietly whispering, “Yes, I’m ready to come back to my art, but I want to do it gently,” then you are warmly invited into the circle of The Practice which begins this Saturday.If you know of another women who would benefit from having an art practice pass this information on to her.Love youLynnP.S.. Whenever You’re ReadyBecome a paid subscriber to get the full experience, in-depth guides, printable art practices, behind-the-scenes studio lessons, access to live workshops, and member-only gatherings that nurture consistency, confidence, and joy in your art.Thank you for being part of this circle. Whether you’re reading for free or supporting as a paid subscriber you help make Make Art Be Happy possible.SHARE THE WEALTH: Have a friend who does not think they are an artist or fellow artist struggling with a consistent art practice? Gift them a month of paid access with this special link: This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit lynnhardin.substack.com/subscribe

Let’s talk about something almost every creative woman has done at least once.We buy the course.We feel hopeful.We feel excited.We feel like “THIS is the one.”And then…We don’t start.Or we start and disappear.Or we finish… and still don’t implement.And we quietly wonder what’s wrong with us.Why we buy courses in the first placeMost of the time we’re not buying information.We’re buying relief.We’re buying a feeling.We’re buying the moment our nervous system whispers,“Okay… maybe I’m not stuck forever.”We buy courses because we want:A fresh startA new version of ourselvesA promise that this time will be differentA shortcut out of confusionA path that feels safeSometimes we buy the course because we miss who we were when we used to create.And buying the course feels like buying our way back.Why we don’t start (or don’t finish)Starting is vulnerable.Starting means we have to meet ourselves again.Not the fantasy version of us who is motivated and organized and calm.And when we open the course, all kinds of stuff shows up:PerfectionismOverwhelmFear of doing it wrongComparisonDecision fatigueThe pressure to “do it right” since we paid for itThat familiar voice that says, “If I can’t do it well, I shouldn’t do it at all.”Plus, real life is loud.Kids.Work.Health.Family.Appointments.Dinners.Laundry.Text messages.News.A body that wants a nap.Why finishing still doesn’t mean implementingThis one is sneaky.Because finishing feels like it should equal change.But finishing a course and implementing a course are two different muscles.Sometimes we finish because we’re responsible women.We finish because we’re good students.We finish because we don’t quit.But implementing requires something else.It requires repetition.Messy reps.Practice in real life.Awkward early attempts.Discomfort.Courses are not the problem.Pressure is the problem.You don’t need more self discipline.You need a way back to yourself that feels safe.A way to practice without performing.A way to return without punishment.A way to do it in small, real life steps.If this is youCome spend 90 days with me as you become the woman who makes art through the challenging times in life.Your mind will become quiet through confusion of when and how to make art and you will feel that joy again of being in the moment.You will have pride in yourself as you show up for yourself and your art.The relationship you and your art have will become like visiting an old friend.After 90 days, your art practice has changed for good, because you finally have the right roadmap. You will become someone who has the tools to work through any resistance.You cannot wait to get into the studio or sit at the table and make art.A steady practice becomes natural. When you look down at what you made, it feels like coming home. Your art practice is as daily as brushing your teeth. If you want to start this year differently, and you want to come back to your art, this is for you. The practice is now open at the early registration price. This price is only available for one more week and there are limited spaces.If this is not you and yet it reminds you of someone else please share this information with them.With love,Lynn This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit lynnhardin.substack.com/subscribe

Most women who are drawn to art carry a quiet belief.I am not an artist.Art belongs to other people.I missed my chance.It often feels like a fact.Something settled long ago.But that belief did not appear out of nowhere.It was shaped by childhood moments.A comment in school.A comparison that stung.A paper that did not look right.A teacher who moved on.A feeling of being behind.So you learned to hesitate.To hold back.To apologize for your work before it even exists.That does not mean you lack creativity.It means you learned to leave yourself when things felt uncomfortable.Most women do not struggle with art because they are untalented.They struggle because art stopped feeling safe.Safe to begin badly.Safe to make something small.Safe to stop and return.Safe to stay when doubt or shame shows up.So the answer is not more motivation.It is not discipline.It is not waiting until you feel confident.The answer is safety.Safety to take five minutes instead of an hour.Safety to make one mark instead of a masterpiece.Safety to notice your breath instead of judging the page.When the stakes are low enough, something soft happens.Your shoulders drop.Your breath slows.The voice that says you do not belong gets quieter.Not because the art suddenly looks better.But because you stop asking it to prove anything.If you think you are not an artist, you are not alone.And you are not late.Art does not come back through pressure.It comes back through permission.One small honest mark at a time.Love ya,LynnThanks for reading Make Art~Be Happy/ Art! This post is public so feel free to share it.Thank you to everyone who tuned into my live video! Join me for my next live video in the app. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit lynnhardin.substack.com/subscribe

Most creative women think they need to feel motivated, calm, confident, or inspired before they sit down to make something.So when they feel tired, anxious, sad, flat, or overwhelmed, they wait.They scroll.They clean.They overthink.And the art table stays empty.What I shared in today’s video is simple and important.You do not need the right mood to create.You need permission to bring your feelings with you.DOWNLOAD PRACTICE PAGEYour art table is a safe place for all of it.Grief.Joy.Anger.Numbness.Hope.Five minutes is enough.In the video, I guide you through a gentle feelings check in and a tiny art practice that helps you move emotion through your hands instead of carrying it alone in your body.Nothing fancy.Nothing performative.Just honest marks on a page.If your art has felt far away lately, this is your invitation back.No pressure ever.Warmly,Lynn This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit lynnhardin.substack.com/subscribe

Most creative women think they are the problem.Not consistent enough.Too scattered.Too late.What if the problem is not you but the way it has been named?Low quality creative problems sound likeI am behindI am lazyI never finish anythingThey create shame and very little art.High quality creative problems sound kinder and more useful.I want a gentle practice that fits my real lifeI want to rebuild trust with myselfI want to pay attention to what lights me upOne shuts you down.The other opens a door.I made a short video for you today to help you reframe the creative problem you are actually working on.No pressure.No fixing.Just a way back.Download the Practice Page hereFive minutes counts.Returning counts.You are right on time.LynnThanks for reading Make Art~Be Happy/ Art! This post is public so feel free to share it. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit lynnhardin.substack.com/subscribe

2025 was the hardest year of my life.Breast cancer.Surgery.Infection.Family layoffs.Illness.It felt like wave after wave after wave. There were days I was scared. Days I was exhausted down to my bones. And for a while, my art practice slipped away.But then something quiet happened.I found my brush again.Not from motivation.Not from discipline.Just from a gentle pull inside me that said come home.And when I painted, it didn’t feel like pressure anymore.It felt like refuge.So in 2026, I’m laying down the old, torn up brush that tried to prove somethingand picking up the brush that helps me breathe.Yes, there will still be obstacles.But I’m stronger now. Softer, too.And my art feels like home again.If your year was heavy, I’m right here beside you.Here’s to beginning again lightly.love ya,LynnMake Art~Be Happy/ Art is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit lynnhardin.substack.com/subscribe

I return shopping carts. Not because I am especially good.But because if I do not, a small voice wakes up.You are careless. You leave things for others. You are doing it wrong.That voice is shame. It does not shout. It whispers in ordinary places.Parking lots.Unfinished paintings.Messy tables.Art hears this voice too.You should be further along.This should look better by now.If you were really an artist, this would feel easier.But art is not saying that.Shame is borrowing its voice.Art is not a report card. It is a place to process what has not been felt yet.When my art feels heavy or stalled, it is rarely because I am doing it wrong.It is because something in me needs attention.So sometimes I return the cart.And sometimes I just notice why I feel I have to. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit lynnhardin.substack.com/subscribe

Flow doesn’t arrive fully formed.It shows up after we begin.For me, it comes through writing.I start without knowing where I’m going. That’s when the words begin to move on their own.m and I clear out what blocks me from my creative rhythm.I see the same thing with someone I coach, though her doorway is different. She finds flow through meditation. The effort softens. The practice opens. She isn’t trying to get anywhere else. That’s her rhythm.Flow isn’t one thing.It’s personal. Some of us write. Some of us sit in stillness. Some draw, walk, cook, or listen. Flow comes when we stop forcing and start staying.Once you find how you enter it, returning becomes easier.I’m dying to know what you have found works for you that gets you into your creative rhythm? Leave in the comments below!Thanks for reading Make Art~Be Happy/ Art! This post is public so feel free to share it. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit lynnhardin.substack.com/subscribe

Sometimes life just feels heavy.You’re frustrated. You’re tired. You want to cry.And you don’t feel good in your body or your heart.In this live, I talk about how to let those emotions move through you without getting stuck in them and how to stop pulling meaning from the past and instead let the future guide your next step.Thank you to everyone who tuned into my live video! Join me for my next live video in the app. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit lynnhardin.substack.com/subscribe

This morning I was walking around our pond.Foggy. Christmas lights still up. The sun trying to break through.Yesterday my doctor said I could start moving again.After a year of breast cancer.Four surgeries.A body that needed rest more than discipline.When I was 58, I ran a marathon.I will never do that again.But I am still a runner.Once you run a marathon, that truth doesn’t disappear just because you pause.And the same is true with art.This year my art practice hasn’t looked like it used to.Not consistent.Not scheduled.Not what I wanted.And I beat myself up for that.I told myself shame filled stories.Catastrophic ones.Until I stopped.Sat with it.And realized this.I don’t have to recreate my old practice to begin again.I don’t need perfection.Or discipline.Or a plan.I can start where I am.Right now that looks like touching my supplies.Making contact.Letting joy come back before structure.If life pulled you away.If your body needed your attention.If shame is telling you you lost something.You didn’t.You are still an artist.Just like I am still a runner.You can begin again today.Right where you are.Thank you to everyone who tuned into my live video! Join me for my next live video in the app. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit lynnhardin.substack.com/subscribe

I just posted the first session of Start Where You Are, my five part series for creative women who want to return to their art with more ease and confidence.Today we talked about creative problems. Not the dramatic ones, but the quiet thoughts that keep us from starting or finishing. I show you how to turn a low quality problem that shrinks you into a high quality creative problem that grows you.If you want a tiny homework practiceWrite down your main creative problemRewrite it in a kinder, more interesting wayTake one tiny action that supports itNo pressure. No art police. Just small beautiful shifts that change everything over time.You are not behind. You are right on time.If you need more help reach out to me via DM or smoke signals! This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit lynnhardin.substack.com/subscribe

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit lynnhardin.substack.com/subscribe

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit lynnhardin.substack.com/subscribe

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit lynnhardin.substack.com/subscribe

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit lynnhardin.substack.com/subscribe

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit lynnhardin.substack.com/subscribe

I was in second grade, walking home with a pickle, when the news broke: President Kennedy had been assassinated.Before that moment, the world felt safe. After that moment—it didn’t. Then came Bobby. Then Martin. A generation was shaken awake, and because of it, women like me could open a credit card without a husband’s signature.I believe we’re at that line again. Hate is loud. Violence is excused. Even online. But here’s the truth: violence is never justified. Not in politics, not on the playground, not anywhere.This moment has woken me up as an artist. I will paint. I will write. I will create. And I will say it plain: It is not OK. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit lynnhardin.substack.com/subscribe

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit lynnhardin.substack.com/subscribe

Making art is not always easy. It looks like it should be. Children in kindergarten and certainly my grandsons make art with ease whether with a brush, marker, crayon or even a stick out in the yard.All we must do is grab a brush, press play on that course, make a little something while dinner is in the crockpot.But the moment we try being creative, something deeper starts stirring.It’s not just about paint or paper. It’s about us.It touches all the soft spots—our emotions, our self-worth, our stories.When we try being creative all the old rules about what’s allowed and what’s not come to the forefront of our minds.And if you’ve been wondering, “Why is this so hard for me?” There’s a good reason. You’re likely carrying a lot.Maybe a lifetime of putting other people first.(You’ve probably become so good at it that you don’t even realize you’re doing it.) Guilt that bubbles up when you finally sit down to take time for yourself. Fear—real, gut-deep fear—of being judged.Or worse, that you’ll finally try and realize you’re “not good enough.” (Even though no one ever says what “good enough” actually means.)Listen and watch the video to learn more!Make Art~Be Happy is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit lynnhardin.substack.com/subscribe

Ever had one of those days where you're sprinting down a hallway in heels, hoping your pantyhose don't rip, all to rescue a kindergartner stuck in the frame of an overhead projector?In my previous career as a school leader, I had a vision of shaping the future. I wanted to create a world where our children could choose any dream or goal based on their passions, equipped with the education to succeed. However, working towards that vision wasn't always straightforward.One typical Tuesday morning at school, my secretary rushed in and said, "Mrs. Hardin, there's an emergency in the kindergarten room." Without a second thought, I jumped up and ran down the hallway in my heels and pantyhose—yes, that's what we wore back then. When I walked into the classroom of one of my favorite kindergarten teachers, I said, "Here to help!" She motioned for me to come forward. She was sitting and reading a book, keeping the kids engaged as a good teacher does.As I approached, she pointed down to a little five-year-old boy with his finger stuck in the hole of the frame that held the overhead projector. He wasn't crying or upset—just worried he might get in trouble.Seeing him stuck took me back to times when I've felt stuck or watched friends struggle with their goals and dreams. I remembered my first marriage when I had to get my wedding ring off after my divorce. So, I grabbed some lotion, slathered it on his finger, and gently worked it free.How do we get stuck to begin with? I think we learn how to be stuck from common advice heard in movies, read in books, T-shirt slogans, words said to us by parents and teachers, or a bumper sticker on a car in front of us at a red light.Examples of Common Advice We Hear:* "Play it Safe"* Stick to what you know; don't take risks.* "Settle for Less"* Don't aim too high; lower your expectations.* "Stay in Your Comfort Zone"* Avoid stepping outside your usual boundaries.* "Listen to Your Doubts"* If you feel unsure, it's a sign you shouldn't proceed.* "Compare Yourself to Others"* Constantly measure your worth against others' achievements.* "Wait for the Right Moment"* Hold off on your dreams until everything feels perfect.* "Seek Approval from Others"* Rely on others' opinions to validate your decisions.* "Focus on Your Weaknesses"* Pay more attention to what you can't do rather than what you can.* "Avoid Failure at All Costs"* Fear of failing should keep you from trying new things.* "Be Realistic"* Don't dream too big; stay practical and realistic.These pieces of advice reinforce the belief that we are not capable or worthy, keeping us from a clear path to joy, purpose, and accomplishment.So, there I was, freed the little guy’s finger with the magic of hand lotion, saving the day in my heels and pantyhose. As I watched him run off to play, it hit me—getting unstuck is often simpler than we think.We’ve all heard these bits of advice that keep us spinning our wheels. It’s like being trapped in a never-ending game of "Mother, May I?" where we ask for permission to take a step forward. Spoiler alert: you don't need anyone's permission but your own.Imagine if we followed all that misguided advice to the letter. We'd all be huddled in our comfort zones, comparing ourselves to everyone on social media, waiting for the perfect moment to arrive while twiddling our thumbs. Spoiler alert: the perfect moment is like Bigfoot—lots of sightings, no solid evidence.Instead of playing it safe, I say we embrace the chaos. The next time you find yourself stuck, remember that a little lotion (or metaphorical push) is all you need. Laugh at the ridiculousness of waiting for perfection.Picture this: You’re at a red light behind a car with a bumper sticker that says, "Be Realistic." Roll down your window, give them a middle finger, thumbs up or peace sign (depending on your personality), and then proceed to dream big anyway. Because realistic is for seat belts and mortgages—not for dreams.So here’s my challenge: let’s ditch the bad advice, grab some metaphorical lotion, and slip out of those stuck moments. Life is too short to wait for permission. Run down that hallway, heels and all, because your dreams are waiting at the other end. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit lynnhardin.substack.com/subscribe

I was supposed to be on a podcast this morning talking about perfectionism, but the host wasn’t feeling well, so we had to reschedule. I thought, why not share my thoughts on perfectionism right here?Perfectionism is all about striving for flawlessness and setting super high standards. There’s a good side that drives productivity and a bad side that leads to anxiety and burnout. I've experienced both.Today, I’m sharing my journey from being a perfectionist to finding a balanced and joyful life. Join me as we explore how to overcome perfectionism and embrace a happier, more fulfilling life. Let’s dive in! This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit lynnhardin.substack.com/subscribe