How to Find Motivation Without Forcing Yourself
Reading time: About x minutes (1808 words)
Like cracking a bullwhip, finding motivation works through relaxed momentum and a change in direction, not force, so a shift in perspective does more than willpower ever could.
Safe and Controlled: Lessons in Momentum
This week I took a class in bullwhip cracking, and now I am obsessed:
“An introduction to safe and controlled bullwhip cracking. Students will learn foundational cracks, including the forward circus crack, reverse crack, overhead horizontal crack, and flick. These techniques form the building blocks for recreational cracking and performance work alike.”
Just reading it made me laugh out loud. How could this not be fun? There was another reason, too. My go-to karaoke song is “Whip It” by Devo, and I have a party coming up where I’ll sing with a live backup band. Wouldn’t it be cool if I could actually crack that whip?
I eagerly signed up, but none of my friends were available, or brave enough, to join me. Come class time, I was having my doubts. Living in New Orleans, I associate whips with sexy costumes and performance, but also torture and domination. The French Quarter is full of leather, spikes, collars, and harnesses on display for a wicked good time. Was this training for Catwoman? Would everyone be in gimp suits?
I pulled up to a low, dark warehouse in Arabi and sat alone in a sketchy parking lot, a bit frightened. I thought I had the wrong address, until I saw the sign on the door. I opened it to bright lights, high ceilings with trapezes and silks hanging, and soft, squishy mats underfoot. This was BEAST Studios, a circus training space.
The instructor looked like a cross between Willie Nelson and Colonel Sanders, in a Billy Strings T-shirt and jeans. Two smiling young women flanked him, gently twirling their whips, and welcomed me. Our teacher was none other than Chris McDaniel, a champion Wild West performer, trick roper, and bullwhip artist.
Suave, Not Sweat
My first attempt made no sound at all. I was trying to hit something, and I got zero result. I didn't yet understand that I was not supposed to hit anything.
The class turned out to be more of a lesson in physics than in physical exertion. The crack of a whip is a miniature sonic boom. When you crack a whip, the very tip accelerates past the speed of sound, which makes the whip one of the first human-made objects to break the sound barrier. So the crack you hear isn't leather slapping anything. Even the classic circus trick of snapping a cigarette out of someone's mouth is about precision, not power.
Chris showed me the movement, and it's simple. I drew the whip back, nice and smooth, until it stretched out behind me. Then I changed direction, brought it forward, and stopped my hand short with a little flick. As long as I kept everything on the same plane, the loop rolled all the way off the tip. The whip did the work.
I tried several times before I finally got one little crack. I was startled and elated! Then I tried again and again, trying way too hard, until another one finally snapped.
"Eeeeeasy," Chris kept saying. "Relax. Take it easy. Slow down." He was so patient with me. The more I eased up, the easier it got. Soon I was cracking them one after another, KRA-KACK! KRA-KACK!, each one louder than the last. The slower and more relaxed I got, the louder the crack.
It felt a lot like my hula hoop phase, when I learned all sorts of tricks and marched in day and night parades with LED hoops. You can't muscle a hoop into spinning either. You play and dance with it. You let it move instead of forcing it, and as you flow to the music, the hoop flows with you.
Entanglement
As I practiced, I tangled the rope a few times. I don't even know how it happened. After another failed attempt, Chris pointed to the ground at the end of my whip. It was full of knots. I was shocked that I had caused so much tangling in a single try.
How typical of me, a Turbo Thinker® who tries too hard and overcomplicates things. I was trying too hard, and then trying even harder, adding a second circle and a second spin without noticing. I made a tangled mess when it could have been slow and easy, with one flick.
So I relaxed. I kept the whip moving on the same plane and stuck to one movement. And it cracked.
I recognized the knot. It's what happens when I'm raising my kids and slip into nagging mom mode instead of coach mom mode. I notice myself getting tense, and all my efforts start to backfire. When I back off, get curious, and give us both time to cool off, I often find later that they've changed their behavior on their own. Not because I nagged them.
Self-Flagellation
The next day, I was working on my back porch, enjoying the fall weather. Fridays are when I focus on admin and volunteer work. Two clients texted me sharing wins: they were being gentler with themselves, relaxing into the weekend rather than choosing to work on a Saturday.
One wrote: "Just did list of to-dos... getting to the finish line... yoga tomorrow... getting clearer."
Another: "Finished with clients and then went to workout... feel good about how that went. Now I'm going out to dinner to celebrate!"
I was so happy for them, and proud. I remembered how their sessions had started earlier in the week and how they had ended. They came in with a kind of self-flagellation, really beating themselves up for not meeting their own expectations.
We use the word "self-flagellation" so casually. And I had just spent the night before, quite literally, flagellating. That's when I felt my own crack of an aha moment.
The Question Behind the Question
When clients come to me, they often want to know how to find motivation, how to create willpower, or how to force themselves to do something. "I need to create a whole new client system." "I need to go through all of my email." "I need to organize my daughter's birthday party." It can sound like "make me do it," or "help me whip myself into it." There's an old belief that we must suffer through it alone, in silence.
Like the whip, coaching goes backward before it goes forward. We get curious. Why is this important to you? Why now? What would you like to have happen?
One client runs her own business from home. She was stuck on the end-of-day admin: creating contracts, sending follow-up emails, entering data, making invoices. She felt "uninspired" and wanted to feel "inspired." She was sure she needed a whole new system, maybe new software.
So I asked her: What inspires you? If you had a magic wand right now, what would you do with it?
Like many clients, she first asked the wand for motivation to do it all herself. But the question isn't "What is the way for me to do it alone?" It's "What is the way for it to be magically complete?" So I asked another question: What if you weren't allowed to do it by yourself?
Many of us believe that if we don't do it ourselves, it doesn't count. It's as if work only counts if we suffer through it alone. It's an old thought pattern, and it's how many of us have always operated.
When she removed herself from the equation, the solution appeared. Ease, flow, and crack. It had nothing to do with software. It was her environment. She called a friend to help organize her office.
"I need organization," she said. "I can be thoughtful about it. My environment matters. Being more regulated helps me." And then: "You can be incredible if you get help too."
A Pull, Not a Push
The whip taught me the difference between a pull and a push. Every crack starts with a pull: you draw the whip back behind you, and that's where its momentum comes from.
When we feel called to do something, it's easy. It pulls us forward. When it feels like a kick in the pants, it's hard to do, and the harder we push, the more we tangle.
In a session, the shift happens when someone stops shoving and changes direction. There's a new perspective, the flow returns, and the magic does the work. That's the sonic boom, and it's the moment of excitement in a coaching session. Sometimes it's a big, loud A-ha! Sometimes it's a small shift. Sometimes I see it before they do. Just like a crack of the whip, some are louder than others.
The crack also startles. That's exactly what it's for. It startles us awake, and that awakening signals a change in behavior.
The sonic boom happens just before the whip goes completely straight, as the loop finishes unrolling. Like dopamine, it peaks in the anticipation, right before we arrive. The crack is like the dopamine spike.
Snap Out of It
There was no force and no harm done in class. We used six-foot whips, which are easier for beginners to crack. Working whips are much longer, and Chris told us the best ones are made in Australia from kangaroo leather because it’s so light, supple, and strong.
On a cattle drive, the whip never touches the animals. The crack startles the herd and keeps it moving, as if to say, "Please don't run off the cliff, baby calf. Stay safe."
Just like a clicker in dog obedience training, the crack of the whip startles us awake, keeping us safe from danger. It's an awakening from a reverie.
The awakening encourages a shift in behavior, one that sets us on the right path. No pain required.
Relax It and Crack It
I walked into that warehouse thinking whips were about torture and domination. I walked out knowing that what seems like torture can actually be ease and flow. You can't force a whip to crack, and you can't force yourself into motivation either. What if no one needed to be whipped at all? What if we stopped trying to inflict pain and suffering, on ourselves or anyone else?
As Chris told me: "Ease up, don't force it." In coaching, we shift the perspective. The shift in the direction of thought creates the awakening, and the awakening changes the behavior. CRACK! It's so satisfying.
I can't believe how much I learned in one hour, both intellectually and in practice. A good whip is a work of art, and I'm not ready to invest in one just yet. But I'm definitely signing up for another class with Chris. And at the karaoke party, when the band kicks in, you know what I'll be singing.
Where are you muscling the whip?
What would this look like if it were easy?
Can you relax it and crack it?
Adela Baker, PCC, is an ADHD and executive coach and the founder of Mind Coach in New Orleans. In this post, she draws on a bullwhip cracking class with champion trick roper Chris McDaniel at BEAST Studios to explore why trying to force ourselves into motivation or willpower backfires, and how a shift in perspective helps Turbo Thinkers®, including professionals with ADHD, take action with less struggle.
Read more about the belief that if something isn't hard, stressful, or painful, you aren't doing it right in my blog post, "Eaten By Love: Why It Feels Wrong When Things Get Easier”: https://www.mind-coach.com/journal/eatenbylove
Read more about how letting go of control and embracing vulnerability unlocks genuine mastery for neurodivergent minds in my blog post, “The Gift of Not Knowing.”: https://www.mind-coach.com/journal/beginners-mind