Listening To My Life

Pushed into clarity

Speaking of getting clear… 

I love when I get pushed into situations where I end up expressing something in a way that’s so clear and right, but that I might not have gotten to any other way—or at least not that quickly.

Those pushed moments don’t happen often for me. I don’t know if it’s because there are too few people who back me into a proverbial corner, or if it’s just that I rarely ever feel backed into a proverbial corner, or if it’s that when backed into a corner, I rarely come out swinging to get out of it…instead staying there and dealing with what happens there. But sometimes…some times…the stars align, the perfect question gets asked, the push is there, and it all just happens.

It’s happened twice in the last calendar year. The first was when R asked my “thing” was. “What one thing,” she asked, “did I need to get out to the world?”

When I told her there wasn’t one, she pushed. She was sure that there was…one. Just one.

And her push was for me to tell her what it was. I couldn’t do it, because, in the push, I was finally able to express that there is not one. There are several. Many, maybe. But certainly more than one. That was huge for me, the blessed clarity that came in that answer.

Then, the other day, I was on a call with E and M. And in that conversation, I got pushed to get clear on what I want for my business. The pushing came as a result of two questions:

Question 1: What do you want?
Answer 1: I want to do well and good. I want to serve the world through whatever contribution I make.

Question 2: Could it be that you’re afraid of playing big?
Answer 2: No. I’m not afraid of playing big. If I were, AssistU never would have been created, nor would I now be ready to step out and play on my own, outside of AssistU.

That led to my saying this: "What I’m afraid of is having to bastardize my work for money."

On the surface, even when I repeat that out loud, it sounds like what I'm saying is that I won't whore myself. The deal, though, is that  all along I've known that I won’t offer crap to make more money. And more—I won’t offer what other people might find valuable if I know it’s crap. I won’t be seductive or manipulative to get business. I won’t endorse anything I think isn’t genuinely worth endorsing. And I won’t ram my stuff down anyone's throat.

The difference is that I'd never said, out loud, what I really said in that moment, which was that I'm afraid that the only way I'm ultimately going to make money is by bastardizing my work--something I obviously feel strongly against doing. So that was the clarity I was pushed to and am grateful for.

Now, if I could just get someone to push me to find my answer as to how shameless self promotion fits in with all of this, I’d be set ;)

My third option

And just like that—I got clear.

I went to bed last night, again with the stacybrice.com thing roaming around in my brain, but this time, I said to my brain, “I’m gonna let you deal with this for a while. Give me a good answer in the morning.”

I slept like a rock, woke feeling great (and expectant), and had no answer. I wasn't happy with my brain.

But in the shower, there it was. Really. Right between my shampoo and conditioner. Just like that.

Stacybrice.com needs to happen, and will happen. But it does not have to happen for me to announce my coaching groups or the next retreat, or get started getting people involved. I have places to list, show and publicize my stuff. Maybe not to do it perfectly, but I’m not sure there’s perfection to be had, or that I’d want perfection if I could have it.

I just want to get moving.

So I’ve simply unbundled things, stopped worrying about A before B—and created my third option. Now, to get on with the creative copy and announcing of things! 

Diving into change

The whole stacybrice.com (don’t bother looking…there still isn’t anything there) thing, in fact, this whole renewed love of my work thing that came about in June when I spent the day learning from David Neagle, has led to a most unexpected eventuality. I’m changing.

 

Now J has been telling me for months that I'm changing, and I knew that that was true in some ways, but what's happened to me, change-wise, since June has shown it to me with crystal clarity.

 

A story… from the other day, at lunch (we do this a lot) with Dawn, again at the same fav lunch haunt. The day was gorgeous—in fact, our entire summer here has been uncharacteristically so. The host asked if we wanted to eat inside or outside, and Dawn looked to me for the answer, because I tend to wilt in the heat, and she thought for sure I would rather eat inside. I said enthusiastically, “Outside, please!”

 

Dawn looked at me oddly and asked, “Who are you, and what have you done with my best friend?”

 

:)

 

Outside, she, of course, didn’t look at the menu. We always order the same things at this place. I, on the other hand, was trying to decide if I wanted something other than the usual.

 

Again, this time with a bit of a stink-eye, “Who are you, and what have you done with my best friend?”

 

:)

 

And lastly (at least for that day), during lunch, she suggested we do one of our infamous work weekends before my sabbatical begins in October (those of you new to me wouldn’t know that, for the past ten years, I’ve taken a sabbatical at the end of each year—in the most recent years, not working at all during the last quarter of the year). Finishing my bit of Kung Pao chicken, I tossed back casually, “Oh, I’m not taking a sabbatical this year.”

 

“Who ARE you, and WTF have you done with my best friend??”

 

:)

 

I’m here. Really I am. I’m just vibrating differently than a few months ago. And it’s alllllll good. I’m still the person people have known…only infinitely bettah. And man, am I grateful that God has surrounded me with the people closest to me. They’ve loved me this far, and I know that they’re gonna love me even more moving forward.

 

Change is, indeed, a wonderful thing, and I feel like I’m diving, head first, into all of it I can get myself into.

 

More from the “front” as it happens. This is so exciting! :D

 

Let your love show

Popping around the blogosphere to catch up with some of my favorite women, I stopped for a visit with Elena. Her post about this sticker she saw made me think that I never told my own similar story.

 

 

I shared it there with her in a comment, but wanted to share it here with you.

 

On the day I learned my mother had died, Dawn met me at one of our fav lunch haunts for Soothing Lettuce Wraps, Salt and Pepper Calamari, and Kung Pao Chicken—all the comfort foods needed on a day like that day.

 

Out on the parking lot after lunch, she wrote, in lipstick, a message to me on my car window. Here’s the snap I took of it:

 

 

I thought I'd keep it there for a week or so, and imagined that rain and other elemental forces would ultimately wipe it off. But six months later, it’s still there (Dawn did just rejuvenate it a bit earlier this month, and it looks as good as the day she first did it).

 

I never realized how truly warm and happy I would feel every time I see it. Nor did I realize how many people would engage me about it. But I’ve been to countless banks and other drive-through places where, upon seeing it, someone will say something like, “I love you, too!” or, “Awww…thank you for loving me!” and thereby make my day (and doubtless his or her own, as well).

 

I had to have some body work done on the car back in the spring, and when I went to collect it, the body-shop owner said to me, “When I washed your car, I was going to wash that window, but decided that was a pretty important thing you have on it, so I washed around it.” 

 

The point? Love matters. People love love. They love talking about love. They love connecting around love. And given the chance, they’ll respond to it—even around absolute strangers. What can possibly be better than that?

Getting to what matters--do I have to do A before B?

Things are getting interesting here in my world.

 

For the past eleven years, I’ve pretty much played exclusively within the auspices of my company, AssistU. It’s been, and remains, such a joy to me, and I look forward to all of what we (my staff and I) still have to accomplish there.

 

But this year, I’ve become certain that it’s time for me to step out into my own light. I don’t know the best way to frame it—every way I do it seems to lead me to sound like I’m leaving AssistU behind—and nothing could be further from the truth. It’s just that I know that what I have to offer is needed by more people than just those in the AU community.

 

That's when Dawn said, "It's time for stacybrice.com." Ummm... ok. She's right. I know she's right. That's just not how I'd originally seen things, dontchaknow.

 

My initial offerings are clear—coaching, and retreats that help women figure out, and then get on with, what’s next for them (there are so very many women in transition—mothers facing empty nests, people downsized from their workplaces, boomers having to retire but not ready to “quit,” just to name a few).

 

What became immediately unclear was how to capture myself--as a site, and more, as a logo. Intuitively, I know the logo has to come first, because, for me, it will then inform everything about the site. So I've gone off for a first round of logo designs, and had a devil of a time explaining myself. And that’s funny to me because I know myself very well, and it would seem it should be easy to express to designers who I am in a way that they could then give me something terrific. But the first round hasn’t been so, and that’s a tad disheartening.

 

Also, as part of knowing myself, I know that the more options I look at, the more dulled my ability will be to choose well. It’s kind of like tasting that 25^th wine, or smelling that 30^th perfume. It’s just all a bit too much.

 

I’m reminded of when I worked in a big-name (no longer in business) retail department store in the china, crystal, and silver department. We were all cross-trained to also handle the bridal registry, in case the bridal consultant wasn’t available. She taught us to never let a bride look at more than three patterns of anything (china, crystal, or silver) because adding more choices just muddied everything.

That’s where I am. It’s muddied. What I want is to see the perfect logo and have the experience of exclaiming, “That’s IT!”

 

I’m impatient about it. I want to move forward. I want to announce my new coaching programs, and the next “What’s Next” retreat. I’m excited, but feel like I can’t get there (to the announcing) until this logo thing is resolved.

 

Maybe I’m running a racket on myself. Saying I can’t do B till I do A. Maybe I can do it differently, and then, when the logo thing is resolved, add it all on to the new stacybrice.com site (don't bother looking, btw, there's nothing there yet!).

 

This is when it would be just lovely to have someone sweep in, create something without asking me any questions, and just take the decision-making out of my hands. Perhaps good enough is good enough??

Commitment....a detriment?

Sandra sent this to me, and it took a cool nanosecond for me to know I wanted to share it with you. Brilliant…just brilliant.

When does commitment become a detriment?
by Scott Ginsberg

People are often stunned when I tell them I’ve actually forgotten to put on a nametag before.

“No way! You!” they gasp.

“Well, yeah. I’m human,” I explain.

But it happens. Every once in a while I’ll walk out my front door, or get into the car or be halfway to Starbucks when I look down at my shirt and say, “Ah crap, I forgot my nametag.”

Of course, keep in mind I always store ten spare pre-written nametags in my wallet just in case.

So it’s not like it’s an unsolvable problem.

But, sure. I forget to put on a nametag sometimes. Big deal.

Now, on a larger scale, people are ALSO surprised when I give them my answer to the question, “Scott, have you ever thought about QUITTING the whole nametag thing?"

Because obviously, they assume my answer is an immediate, “No!”

When in fact, it’s just the opposite.

I’ve absolutely thought about retiring the tag!

And you know what?

I don’t mind admitting that to you. I’m not ashamed that I’ve doubted my own commitment.

Because I think there comes a point at which commitment can actually become a detriment.

AFTER ALL: What good is being committed if your commitment…

Becomes a threat to your health?
Causes you to lose sight of your family?
Harms the world or the people around you?

Or, more dangerously: What good is being committed if your commitment causes you to dishonor your Truth?

See, commitment can be seductive.

Because sometimes, the deeper you commit to something, the more likely you are to become SO wrapped up and so obsessed with idea of BEING (and APPEARING) committed … that your desire actually becomes bigger than that which you are committed to.

And that’s when you lose sight of what’s truly important.

Even Mahatma Gandhi (of all people!) questioned his own commitment. Even HE occasionally had a change of heart.

In one particular instance during a protest against the British in 1930, Gandhi suddenly decided to forfeit his public demonstration. And this was several days into it!

So, when confronted by his lieutenants for an explanation, Gandhi said:

“Only God knows Absolute Truth; I just know relative truth. And my understanding of truth changes from day to day, so, I’m sorry, but I need to stop this particular protest. My commitment must be to Truth, not to consistency.”

What about you?

Have you ever made a decision - just to appear consistent - while dishonoring your truth?

NOTE: This isn’t a case against commitment. Or consistency.

I still believe that commitment is the secret of success. I still believe that consistency is far better than rare moments of greatness.

However, after 2,835 days, my experience leads me to believe there DOES come a point of diminishing returns.

So, here’s my advice:

1. Don’t allow psychological and social pressure to prevent you from making mistakes.

2. Don’t ignore that still, small voice in your intuitive heart.

3. Constantly remind people of your commitment … BUT … let go of the need to do so for sole the purpose of strengthening your own position.

Look, when you notice a cognitive dissonance in your life, accept it – don’t fight it.

Embrace your imperfect humanness!

You WILL have doubts. You WILL have misgivings. You WILL do things that are inconsistent with what you THOUGHT you believed.

BUT REMEMBER: Do not dishonor your Truth for the fear of appearing inconsistent.

Which reminds me, I TOTALLY forgot to put on a nametag this morning.

So if you’ll excuse me, I need to go grab my Sharpie.

LET ME ASK YA THIS... When was the last time you questioned your own commitment?

What to do when transparency is "inconvenient?"

Transparency. Being devoted to having it in my life can be difficult. For instance, “stuff” doesn’t happen in nice neat little packets, and only at the most convenient times. Sometimes, it’s really messy, and inconvenient.

And the messy doesn’t bother me at all. The inconvenient…it’s hard to handle, and something I really struggle with.

As adults, we’re used to things happening inconveniently. The dog gets hit by a car. The kid falls and breaks his arm. A fender bender happens. But I don’t think most people handle inconvenient emotion well at all. It’s as if we all understand that we can’t control the world, but we’re somehow expected to control, and even suppress our feelings. To save them for a more convenient, or—God, forbid—appropriate time.

But life tosses things at you. And you naturally have feelings about the events. And if the feelings are natural (which they always are), then why would it be inappropriate to share them right then—when they’re happening. Why “should” we wait till later?

I really do want to understand.

I know that my first thought is to do just that—not burden anyone else with what’s going on, until, sometime later, when it’s more convenient; when hearing about it would be easier for the other.

But that doesn’t fit, IMO, with being transparent. Maybe I can’t commit to being transparent and to always being appropriate/convenient. And maybe I just need to have explicit agreements with those who want transparency in their relationships with me about the fact that transparency demands…well, transparency.

Now, I do understand that being transparent doesn’t mean that everything has to be shared in real time, as it happens. It would just be too difficult to do. But, if I’m with someone and something happens, I think that person should be told, then…and I shouldn’t hold back about it, putting on a face or mask to the world to cover it until a more convenient time to share.

But what to do with the messiness that comes in those moments of inconvenient sharing? And why are most of us prepared, by life or family, to handle the messiness of inconvenient events (hurt dog, broken arm, fender bender), but not of inconvenient feelings?

If you have a thought, I’d appreciate your comment. :)

25 things disappearing from our lives

There are moments I've wished that I'd kept a log of things that have come and gone in my life. Just the technology category would be vast, but I wonder about other categories...like books that have gone out of print and are impossible to get, or movies they don't show on TV but aren't also available for purchase, or cars I thought were cool, but bombed in sales and were removed from production, or people no longer in my life--for whatever reason. And maybe I'm more sensitive to it now because there is literally no one alive anymore who knows the history of me. There's no one to ask whether I've had the mumps, or at what age I started to walk, or who my very best friend was, or how old I was when we got our first VCR. As I get older, I let more go, and consequently remember less. So maybe I ought to be writing some of this stuff down so that I can at least look back on some of it and reflect on my life "back in the day."

In case you've never considered it, do you think it would be neat or a total bore to catalog, in some fashion, a list of things (and maybe people) that have come in and out of your life?

And if you want to do it, here's a cool list of 25 things you may never consider on your own, from the fine folks at  Wallet Pop.

I admit that #19--the Maryland Blue Crab was the hardest for me to read about. Being a Baltimore girl, some of my fondest memories are of crab feasts with friends and family. To think that could be a thing of the past makes me truly sad.

On friendship

I have to say that since I voiced the intention to only have people in my life who find me precious, some of my relationships have faltered, and some of them have soared. No coincidence there.

Of those that have soared, are the relationships with Dawn, Lee, and Antonette. I mention them together because the four of us have formed a very special bond. And while I’m uber-grateful for every one of them individually, this four-way bond has become incredibly important to me, and I know to all of them.

It’s like the Ya-Ya Sisterhood meets the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants…and then some. And although we didn’t grow up with each other, in many ways, it feels to me like they’ve been woven into the very fabric of my soul forever.

I remember when I was 11, and my best friend, Karen and I were inseparable. There was a classmate of ours—Kathy, who lived just down the street, and wanted to be part of “us.” It felt immeasurably hard, and my mother told me then that “two works best,” when it comes to friendships, because then there could be no rivalry or jealousy around spending time with others.

And maybe it’s because we’re all grown up, and committed to relational maturity, but I swear…I’ve never felt that there’s any rivalry or jealousy with us. I’m happy when I hear that Lee and Dawn are meeting for lunch. And I know that Dawn and Lee were delighted that Antonette (AA, from here on out) and I were meeting for cheesecake. Envious? Yeah—I think any of us who can’t attend what they others are doing together feels envious, because she wishes she could be there. But never jealousy or rivalry, or anything even remotely like that. And I feel so blessed that that’s so.

I also feel blessed that we can be different, and yet free to be ourselves. I know so many people who feel they have to put on a face with friends (maybe so they can be assured they’ll retain the friendships?), but the girls and I, well, let’s just say that pretense just isn’t a part of who we are together.

You’d have seen that, I think, if you’d been sitting at one of the tables near us when we lunched yesterday at Greystone. We were there to celebrate my birthday, and it was quite the celebration. I felt so very loved and seen, and…able to be me.

The last time we were at Greystone, it had been to celebrate Lee’s and Laura’s birthdays. And I gave Lee a birthday card….a lovely Hallmark creation with a show girl on the front, wearing pasties with fringe. There was a little crank on the front that, when turned, made the woman bobble her head back and forth, and the fringe on her boobs twirl. It really was quite the hit of the celebration (as you might imagine). The card has, apparently, taken up permanent residence on Lee’s desk in her office, and provides quite the day brightener from time to time!

So I was delighted, but not exactly surprised, to see the card re-appear at my birthday lunch—this time, with my little face taped on top of the show girl’s face. My bobbling head and twirling pasties made for quite a lot of laughter yesterday, too, and Lee even offered to let me take the card home till the next bday (Dawn’s—in October). Gracious, she is, but I demurred…I really didn’t want to take all her twirling day brightening away!

Take a peek… :)

Back at home, and even a day later, I’m just so full of them. And although they gave me lovely, lovely gifts, truly, for me, the greatest gift of all is of their love, friendship, and the bond we share that grows ever deeper every time we’re together.

Today, I wish all of you such amazingly good friendships!

A change in the way I want to experience Bday celebrations

My birthday is a week past, but the celebration isn’t yet over. People I love who couldn’t be with me on the actual date of my birth are still making plans to see me to do just that. What’s not to love, right? And I do love it.

To me, birthdays are the most important days of the year. To me, someone's birthday is a day on which to shout out loud how delighted we are that someone else exists, and is in our lives. Sure, sure, we should let people know how we feel about them every day. I absolutely agree with that. And, I think we can also have one special celebration day (or in my case, it seems to be a birthday month!) for each of them when we very pointedly show them how much they matter.

A couple of years ago, I wrote a post for a blog I no longer write, in which I said that I’d shattered a common practice in my life—that of providing loved ones with lists of gifts I’d like to receive for special occasions. It seemed to me that anyone who loves me ought to be infinitely able to think of a gift I would treasure, and in doing that, the gift would become even more treasured. So I told everyone I would make no more lists. Since then, including this birthday, I’ve been gifted with some of the most heartfelt and remarkable things!

But this birthday, I had an experience that’s calling me to shatter another common practice—that of telling loved ones what I want to do to celebrate my birthday. I realized, in a big way, yesterday, that what I want is for people who want to celebrate with me to plan something for me, and then take me to do it. I mean, it’s great to get to do exactly what I want, eat dinner where I want, meet for group lunches at the restaurant of my choice, based on my whim, but until yesterday, I didn’t consciously realize how much I dislike that.

What showed it to me was that E invited me up to the city for dinner. I arrived shortly after 3p, he met me at the train, and whisked me uptown to the Frick. I’d not been to the Frick, and not being a museum-loving kinda gal, I wondered why in the world he would have taken me there. But it was magical for many reasons, including the Garden Court, where we sat and talked for quite some time.

Leaving the Frick, he took me to dinner at Taj—another place I would never have ended up on my own and am oh-so-happy to have experienced. It’s a very sexy, sultry, delicious sort of place with a zen-like, hedonistic feel (if you can imagine that). We sat in a “cabana,” which is a private area with a sofa with lots of squishy pillows, and had a remarkable dinner. At dinner, he gave me a pair of exquisite earrings. I was just all aglow at being loved so very much.

There was to be more fun in store for me, but we dallied so much at Taj that there really was just enough time to get me back to Penn Station and on my train home.

All the way home I thought about my other loved ones, and our celebrations. They were all very special, and I chose how they'd be, as I'd pretty much done all my life. I chose where, and when, and what. And E’s gift of planning and taking me to such special places made me realize how much I want that level of celebration. I want someone to plan the lunch; I don’t want to have to do the planning.

And part of that is because when I have to do the planning, I tend to plan around what I already know, and what I think will make everyone else happy. I’d prefer for someone to pick an activity, or place that maybe s/he knows about, or has heard about and investigated, and thinks I would enjoy. Then the person could tell me where to go, or better yet, pick me up and take me there. What a delicious thing that would be!

I’m thinking that, at least in America, probably the models I’ve followed are common. I’ve just decided I want a different level of experience on the "celebration of me" days. And it’s a gift I want to give to those I love, too.

Now to figure out whose birthday is coming next, so I can get to planning! :)

How do you celebrate? What models do you and your family follow? I'd be interested in hearing more, so please leave a comment. :)