Challenge: Convey your elevator pitch in a cartoon

I scroll through my FB feed every morning looking for good ideas, and often there's something that I just have to click on.  This morning it was an HBR article that suggested drawing your elevator pitch instead of saying it.  A cartoon elevator pitch is more memorable, helps you distill your ideas down to very simple images that take less time for the brain to process than listening to an explanation. 

Besides good ideas, one of my other favorite things is boats.  Coincidentally, it just so happens that one of my favorite spiritual principles- the Law of Three- uses a sail boat metaphor.  So I have drawn a cartoon elevator pitch for mindfulness using a boat below (The metaphor isn't mine- it's been floating around the Enneagram community for a while).  (Haha). 

 What humans are like when they don't use the "third force" (ie. body or lungs) when they're trying really hard to get something or get somewhere.

What humans are like when they don't use the "third force" (ie. body or lungs) when they're trying really hard to get something or get somewhere.

Here, the Law of Three is depicted as a sailor trying to reach a destination, but continually gets pushed back and forth by the current.  The current (human nature, or Freud's hedonistic "id") is the first force; the rudder is the second force (our desired destination, the end goal, or the "superego"), and the sail (in blue, currently wrapped up around the boom) is the third force that balances the two other forces (the act of being present to what's happening right now, checking in with the body, sensing how the breath lands in the body.  Freud's version of the term "Ego".)

When my coach first started me doing mindfulness, I hated it.  I wanted to wrap it up around the boom and know how I could get stronger muscles so I could paddle harder.  We started our appointments with a short meditation.  He'd ding his little bell and we'd close our eyes, and he'd encourage me to feel my butt on my chair, my feet on the ground, my breath coming in my body and going out, my lungs expanding and contracting, and I was trying to do it, but mostly my mind was wandering and I was getting ready to talk about the issues I had come to discuss.  Then we'd open our eyes and he'd ask me what I noticed, and I would say "Um nothing.  Can I tell you what happened today?"  I don't know exactly when it clicked, but now I see those times of mindfulness as being more effective of a solution than talking (although talking definitely has its place!).  In fact, the mindfulness sessions at the beginning of our appointments are painfully short now. 

Now when people tell me a story of something that happened to them, I ask them how their body feels as they recount it.  Being present with what's going on in the body is the integrating force that helps us better "dance" (like Russ Hudson says) between the intense desires we have versus our human nature.