After making your bold move, you often feel energetically lighter.

That’s why, like the OUTLAW, you rarely have regrets.

Maybe you too, don’t look back.

– Gail Conrad

OPENING:

Hello all you Vanguards & Visionaries, Innovators & Rule-Breakers!

So glad you landed here today because—let’s break some boundaries, turn things upside down & use the chaos to create in a whole new way!

And if you haven’t already, subscribe to my podcast. This way I can let you know exactly when the next episode arrives. You can do it at gailconrad.com. That’s gailconrad.com.

And now—here we go!

(OPENING continues, with MUSIC:)

Hello and welcome to the Wildscape Podcast, sharing tales of stepping into the unknown to create more art, beauty, and magic in your life. I’m your host, Gail Conrad, and today you’re listening to:

OUTLAW EPISODE!

A stranger enters a town. They arrive alone. They ride a horse.

And after still their steed, they pause, to take in the scene.

You see them as a tall silhouette, in a saddle, and so does the rest of the town.

As if on cue- all action stops. Everyone freezes in place, because you know and the entire town knows, that this is just the quiet before the storm.

The stranger is on a mission, and they’re not afraid to act.

I chew popcorn, and stare at the movie on the screen. I wonder—can I be like that?

And then I think – what does it mean, that in a month, I’m going to a dude ranch…?

Hello everyone, and welcome to the OUTLAW EPISODE!

Now, in case you’re wondering why I chose this topic for today. In some episodes, I advocate taking small incremental steps and then, little by little, you find yourself reaching your goal.

That’s not this episode.

Instead, today, I am going to hijack the setting and action of those old classic western movies, and the character of what I’ll call the OUTLAW/HERO, as a metaphor for when you want to take some of the biggest, boldest action in your life—you know, those moments when you’re ready to turn everything upside down.

So this topic speaks less to the small, everyday actions, and more to those tipping points when you feel absolutely compelled to make a huge change, no matter where in your life.

Take a moment, and notice what pops up.

And here’s my disclaimer:

This time I am highlighting, and truly cherry-picking only a few of the qualities of western movies.

For sometimes, when I tell people that I love westerns, they’re shocked. Think it’s politically incorrect, misogynistic, and what about all that macho stuff, gun shooting and killing—not to mention how they portray indigenous people, and all those other stereotypes Hollywood churned out.

So right up front I say, I agree! That’s all there. I’m not advocating any of that.

So, why westerns?

Well, I’ll tell you—

To me, they act like panoramic choreography.

You get those breath-taking sweeps of canyons, hills, valleys.  Always lots of horses. Dramatic silhouettes.  Stillness, followed by an explosion of action.

For me, they’re a visual kinetic dream.

For what’s the dialogue in westerns anyway? Lines like:

Yup—looks like it’s gonna rain or, he went that-a-way…

Most of the information we get is not by what is spoken, but by what the action says.

But beyond this, what captures my attention is not only the action, but how it contrasts with what I’ll call the giant pause—I’ll call it the OUTLAW PAUSE, because it’s like a power-tool, ready to go from zero to 100 before you can blink.

I’ll talk more about the this PAUSE in a moment, but first, here’s how my western saga begins:

I’m one of those who loves horses, probably from the moment I’m born. But I’m brought up in suburbs and cities.

As a kid, horseback riding’s a luxury, so only once in a while am I able to get on a horse.  I’ve had maybe only two lessons in my life.

Ok, I won’t count the one pony ride I have when I am three.

They charge by how many times you go around the ring. I don’t want to get off, so even for my three-year-old brain, it’s easy to calculate: every time I get close to the end, I just give my pony a nice, tiny but sharp kick.

The operator loves me. He’s making money!  My parents, especially after ten times around the ring, are not so thrilled. They get me off, but I leave kicking and screaming.

That’s when I vow:

I’ll find ways to ride some more.

Easier said than done when you live in an urban city like NY.

So here’s one trait of the OUTLAW / HERO:

They are absolutely clear about what they want, and why they’re doing what they’re doing. They take direct action towards that goal.

You may not look to your very young childhood self as a role model for self-expression, but I admit—

I am often in awe of my three-year-old self. I’m not yet socialized. Say exactly what I feel. And yes, I do take direct action, whether anyone else likes it or not.

You knew where you stood with me, and even without speaking, I’d say that I communicated very well.

For truly, did you ever hear a very young child say:

Maybe I want this…?

Okay, I’ll fast-forward a number of decades from that pivotal pony ride.

I’m on day ten of watching movies at a cinema in New York City, and the reason? They’re holding a month-long festival. Showing only western films, for thirty days.

And I have a motive for being here. Yup—I’ve hit one of those tipping points in my life but am not sure what to do.

But I do sense one thing and that is, I need a change in scenery and activity so—and don’t laugh—I check myself in for a week’s stay at a dude ranch, in Wyoming.

But, with only two riding lessons under my belt, I feel umm…that I need to educate myself a bit on the finer points of how to act.

Call it pre-production or my own research and development, for going to a ranch.

So every night at the movies, I study:

Watch how the OUTLAW stands, takes bold strides, then pauses—gets the lay of the land, right before they shake things up. I zero in on how they get on a horse, get off a horse, and how they make their entrance when they arrive at a new town.

I notice they don’t say much, don’t rush around. And when they pause, they take this grounded stance—still as a statue, but that’s just a ploy, because next they’re a blur of super-fast motion.

In other words, they take this OUTLAW POWER PAUSE, right before they act.

And seeing this, I conclude that I can’t just watch movies, that I need to develop myself further, so I can up my game.

OK, so now I admit, I go shopping and buy these boots. Now, I already have these old beat-up cowgirl boots, perfectly suitable for riding, but of course, that’s not what attracts me.

Instead, I see these shiny black and silver-tipped short designer things, more like booties, hardly authentic riding wear but they look awesome!

I buy them and immediately put them on. And now, in my new boots, I feel this change in persona.

I’m ready to practice being in an outlaw in a western, and stride all over New York.

I’m encouraged because I notice one other thing about the OUTLAW / HERO: They’re not afraid to stand out.

Good thing because—decked out in my shiny boots and of course, with a hat I find to match, I begin what I call the “in the field” training part of my month.

I walk down the streets of New York. Take slow deliberate strides.

I’m acutely aware that I’m missing one critical part of my persona and that is, alas—the horse. Makes it hard to do a dramatic entrance, especially on a crowded city street.

I decide—I’ll make up for it, by practicing the OUTLAW PAUSE.

So forward I go. Standing tall.

And maybe once in every teeming, crowded, car-honking city block, I practice the pause, stand still as a statue, so I can take in the lay of the land.

Okay, I trip a few people up. This is New York. Some people yell at me. Most think I’m just an eccentric on the street.

Plus, my landscape is not some awe-struck dusty town; it’s filled with traffic, food carts, and designer shops, and a crowd not in the mood to play along.

I like doing this PAUSE but—I sense that I’m not getting the full benefits, or maybe I picked the wrong street. There’s more for me to know, for even though I can stand out, I’m not sure what I stand for.

Yeah, back to movies I go.

And now I notice:

That when the OUTLAW enters the town, often they’re a stranger. They’re in unfamiliar territory, or maybe they know this town, but it’s from a long time in the past.

They pause, not just to get the lay-of-the-land, but also to look out for danger.

They’re hyper-aware. I see that had I really looked around on the city sidewalk, I wouldn’t have tripped anyone, or knocked anyone down, at least—not by accident.

And here’s the other thing: the OUTLAW has a mission. In westerns, it’s “a calling.”

There’s often this haunting melody. It pops on right when you see that “one thing” that the OUTLAW is absolutely compelled to do.

They don’t set foot into what could be a dangerous town before they know it, and before they have a plan.

So, they’re not reckless, but they do take conscious risk. Think about when you’re at a tipping point, and want to make that big, bold change.

Can’t you just feel it—the risk?

How do you act?

For you are stepping into the unknown. Even with a plan, there’s no insurance. It’s not like some nice, safe territory where you get a notice saying:

“Hello—in three days, the danger will show up…”

Okay, back to me. All of this hits hard because I know, even for practice, I can’t just be a cowgirl statue in designer boots.

Plus, I’m not clear about the biggest thing—my mission.

So…I eat more popcorn, return to the westerns, and I pick up a tiny clue. It’s called:

Don’t talk about it to anyone.

I’ll explain.

What I see is:

The OUTLAW / HERO is quiet about their back story and their mission.

They keep it secret, so others can’t know what they’ll do next. They haven’t blabbed about it, haven’t discussed it with many people, if with anyone.

They don’t pre-announce their arrival, so the town can block them, or attack them when they ride in.

Have you ever had that situation where you’re thinking of a big change that you want to make, and so you start talking about it with everyone you know?

I have, and now—I don’t. I find that when I’m about to create something radically new in my life, it’s better not to tell many people, or anyone. They may not get it, might try to talk me out of it, or try to diffuse my idea.

For think about it:

Those close to you might be well-meaning, but are their motivations truly your own?

For me, it comes down to two key questions, and they are:

How strong is your calling?

And—

When does the risk of changing everything, feel less scary than the fear of not make the change at all?

Okay, back to me:

Meantime, all that month, I practice THE PAUSE.

I pick a different city street. And while I still might look silly, I begin to feel the air differently; I can hear my breath.

I feel grounded, as if my feet, even in boots, can touch the earth beneath the cement pavement street. No one bumps into me. They might stare, but they keep their distance.

My theory: they sense how my energy shifts.

To me, this is the awesome takeaway from practicing the OUTLAW PAUSE.

When Outlaws do it, they radiate energy—big-time! In westerns, you notice it, especially in those silhouette shots, or when you see them from the back.

We often think that we exhibit our top energy when we’re in high performance motion. I disagree. I say: it’s when we practice this pause.

And pausing…

I bet by now, you might be wondering, what happened at that ranch?

Well…that’s a whole other story, but let’s just say, no one stops dead in their tracks when I arrive. Nor do I turn the ranch or even a few tables, upside down.

I forget about making an entrance; I’m too excited about being in this magic landscape, AND I’m too busy learning how to ride and how to stay on a horse.

And those shiny designer booties? Well, I wear them on the plane. After that, I don my old beat-up boots.

But by the time I return to New York City, my mind is clear, and so is my mission and my plan. I am energized.

That’s when I act and shake up my life.

And because I haven’t spoken about it with anyone, yes – it does take everyone by surprise, but I’m already making the change, and to use the classic phrase:

I stick to my guns.

Back to the westerns:

At the end, Hollywood loves to show the OUTLAW / HERO riding off alone, into a sunset, just with their saddlebag.

They almost always leave their imprint on everyone in the town, but as they depart, they don’t look back.

I mention this because after making a huge life-shift, you often feel energetically lighter. You’re set to go down a whole new path.

That’s why after making your bold move, you rarely have regrets.

Maybe you too, don’t look back.

Thank you.

—

I’m Gail Conrad, your host of the Wildscape Podcast.

The opening music is by Chip Barrow and as always, I love to hear from you, so if you’d like to contact me directly you can go to gailconrad.com.

That’s gailconrad.com

Thanks so much for listening, and again—do subscribe.

Bye for now.

Why not try the Outlaw Pause…?