Listening To My Life

Docker's ad -- heinous, or...?

 

I want to talk about this ad. Click it if you need to make it larger for easier reading.

I first saw it last week, when someone on Twitter posted a link to a blog post about it. I clicked through, and read the post and its associated comments. I even left one (ok, two) myself, and ultimately find it interesting that no one addressed what I wrote.

So rather than contributing to the comments there any more, I thought I'd do my own post, and ask you guys to have the conversation with me. I like you all better and value your ideas/opinions more, anyway ;)

At the heart of the issue is the ad. Maybe you don't need to know more than that it's a Docker's ad to sell khakis. But if you want to know more before forming an opinion, consider taking ten minutes (be sure to have your soothing drink of choice, because this could get you riled up...one way or another) and reading the post and the comments, as well as this other post...then come back here and we'll continue.

Done? Great. Welcome back. Now, what's YOUR take on the whole thing? And what do you think the issue(s) at hand is/are and/or should be?

I promise to share my own thoughts. I just don't think I want to lead the conversation I hope we'll have with what I'm thinking. And I'm sure one of you will be brave and go first, right? Or I can call on someone...I'm not above that, yanno. :)

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 ;)

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?

Learning vs. knowing

I’ve been listening to a recorded teleclass David Neagle did called The Art of Success (sign up for his newsletter and get the teleclass at the top of his site pages: ). I’m very new to David’s work…in fact, The Art of Success is the first real exposure to him I’ve had, but I’m excited by how similar our thinking seems to be based on what I’ve heard.

One of the things he talks about in his very first session is that there are things we believe we’ve learned, but that can’t, in actuality, be taught. Instead, we have to, within ourselves, realize that we have the ability to do those things, and only then will we be able to do them. The specific examples David gives are “learning” to ride a bike, and “learning” to swim.

With regard to riding a bike, someone can show you the bike, tell you how riding a bike happens (steer using handle bars, peddle forward, stuff like that), but until you really get within yourself that you have the ability to balance and ride at the same time, you’ll never ride a bike. Likewise with swimming—until you get that your body can float, you’ll never actually swim, no matter how much someone tries to “teach” you. And, once you know you can balance on a bike, and float on the water, even if you don’t ride or swim for many years, you’ll be able to immediately do those activities again, because once you get it, you’ll never lose it.

I have to say this really hit me hard. It goes to the core of the crazy AHA! Moment I had when I watched The Matrix, and thought to myself that we all probably could do many more things than we believed ourselves able to do. I’ve thought, ever since, that we all probably have the ability to jump vast distances between buildings, for instance, but we “can’t” because we don’t believe we can. David’s thoughts on swimming and biking brought it all right back to me.

It makes me wonder, again, just what we might be able to do if we just believe we can, and creates a very strong case for focusing our beliefs…for believing exactly what we want to have be true. I feel pretty certain that I’ll get more of this in the other segments of the recording, and am looking forward to listening to them, as well as attending a seminar David’s giving here in Baltimore in June! I haven't been quite this excited in quite some time! :)

Twas the night before...

As of this writing, I’ve been crying for 90 minutes, straight. There simply doesn’t seem to be a way to turn off the water works. So here I am, tears streaming down my face, my head hurting, my eyes squinty (how I wish that I were one of those girls who cries “well”) vision blurry, and writing—in case it somehow helps to tell this story.

The night before D leaves is always the worst (that would be tonight). Ok—it’s the worst period before he leaves home. The absolute, bar-none, horrible-beyond-measure time will be the small hours tomorrow night…the ones leading up to his leaving J’s house to get to the airport to actually fly at 7am.

I think my little person somehow believes that until that plane is wheels up, he might still decide not to go. I know better, of course, but she’s very little and thinks things are black and white and everything in the world is possible. She doesn’t get that I wouldn’t ask him to not go…not in a bazillion years.

I had an amazing session today with JC in which, among other things, she helped me understand why my little person gets so riled up, and I was surprised to learn it.

I thought it had to do with something I must have experienced as a child, but had really no clue what it might have been. Today I learned about it, and was astounded that the reality of it never crossed my mind.

JC shared that as a child, I had experienced hundreds of times when my parents left me physically that also included an energetic leave-taking (in other words, they energetically deserted me—my words, not JC’s). And so, the more important a person is in my life, the harder it is for my little person to go through a leave-taking, because she’s SURE that it’s not just a temporary physical separation. She’s scared spitless that she’s being deserted yet again.

That sure explains a lot to me, ringing true with great clarity. I can see my actions and reactions through that lens easily and clearly. I asked for more information as to why it seems that my little person gets quiet and settles down the moment D goes wheels up, and was told that she doesn’t actually settle down, but instead, disassociates. As I thought about that later, it occurred to me that what probably happens is that she screams and cries and is horribly loud and obnoxious, but the moment D’s in the air, she realizes there’s nothing in the world left for her to try to prevent his leaving from happening, and so she quiets down—right up until the next time something happens for her to rage against.

That aspect of myself beings me untold gifts. But I sure wish she’d grow the fuck up. This stuff is far too painful for me (and I’m sure for D, E, and Dawn, too). I don’t want to be the girl who cries her eyes out and wants to beg D to stay. I don’t want to be the girl who looks like she’s been punched in the face when the reality is that her face is swollen because she can’t stop crying. I don’t want to be the burdening girl who drains her friends’ energies. I want to be the girl who joyfully helps D pack and happily shares his excitement about the trip. I want to be the girl who secretly looks forward to his being away for ten days because of all the fun I can have by myself. I want to be the girl who is absolutely confident in my ability to handle whatever the Universe tosses my way. I want to call and do things with E and Dawn because they’d be fun—not because I’m a basket case.

JC gave me some ideas of how I might get there. So far, they’re not working, although one of them touched me most mightily.

I had told D earlier that my little person needed to know that our (his and mine) energetic connection isn’t being broken. I told her, but she just cried harder. Then D said he’d speak with her and sweetly asked her name (she doesn’t have one—although I speak about her as if she’s someone other than me, I’m not confused at all about the fact that she’s part of me). I let him know she had no name, and he flowed easily with that concept. He spend quite some time talking with her about not being scared, that he’s not leaving for more than a few days, and that she’ll be fine while he’s gone. It was incredibly sweet and loving of him, and if anything, she cried harder, and she’s still crying.

D’s asleep now…I can hear his gentle snores, and take great comfort in them. I’m exhausted and so I’ll bring this to a close, go curl up close to him, and cry myself to sleep. Thanks for reading. And for being there.

my inner child needs a ball gag

If you’re new to me, you won’t know that each spring, D goes to Aruba without me for about ten days, or that I nearly fall apart in the days before he leaves. He’s leaving tomorrow morning, and things are very hard for me right now.

I know that that has surprised some of my friends (the falling apart part) because they see me as very together and competent, and so it seems strange to them that I would fall apart over something like D being away for just more than a week.

In reality, I like being alone for short periods of time (like a weekend), but except for this trip he takes, I’ve never, ever, really been alone. I went to college and lived at home. Moved from my parents’ home and in with a roommate. Moved from there into my home with D when we got married…and have been here ever since. So being alone—for ten days—feels really big to me, and even bigger to my inner child.

As you already know about my relationship with my parents (here and here), and my 5%, it probably won’t come as a shocker that my inner child, while bringing me untold gifts, is also quite wounded. And there are just times when she gets scared and worried and very noisy about her distress. Being faced with D being gone is one of those times.

The fully grown and competent part of me is fine. I know, for certain, that there’s really nothing that could happen that I couldn’t deal with, and/or don’t have a friend to help with, and/or can’t hire help with. My inner child doesn’t believe that, obviously. And although I’ve lived with her for maaaaaany years, I still find it amazing that her upset can completely undo me.

Last night, I told E that although I’ve held things together this year better than others, I was actually beyond fragile…and then he called it right when he said that I’m “brittle.”

I thought a lot about that, and finally got it full throttle when in going to bed, and being held by D, I lost it. It wasn’t that I exactly broke into a million pieces the way something brittle would when it breaks, but it was close—an apt metaphor for what happened. Gut-wrenching sobs, the inability to breathe, feeling lost and so very alone and lonely, waves of sadness and near panic rushing over me...collecting the pieces of me would have been a task, for sure. So I cried myself out, and feel asleep exhausted.

This year, I have more support than ever before (although I’ve just learned that I’m unable to count on someone I thought I was really going to be able to lean on in a big way, and that brings it’s own sadness to the mix). And I’m grateful for that. You have no idea how grateful I am (especially to E and Dawn, who show me every single minute that they get me in the most profound ways) for their love and caring.

And I’ll weather the time apart from D just fine. I know that, too. It’s just the days before that are beyond hard.

(icon by Danae)

Challenging my own thinking

Back in January, I bought the new Macbook Air (read about it here). I have it now, and it really is sweet. I love it, and am ever so happy I bought it. While more than another laptop I was looking at, I easily reasoned my way into this purchase. In truth, I just wanted it, and good reasons aside, was going to buy exactly what I wanted.

LE just bought the new 17" Macbook Pro, instantly trumping me in size, cost, and possible coolness (except his lacks the Air's sleek sexiness). I shook my head as I told myself I would never pay $3K for a laptop. He easily reasoned his way into his purchase by saying that it would replace both his current Macbook, and his desktop. In truth, he just wants it.

To put this all in perspective, my housekeeper Jane saw my Air today and said she thought it was cool, but was hoping to spend something more like just a couple hundred bucks for a small machine that would just do what she needed it to do. Maybe a Blackberry would serve her well?

It's clear that we all have our ideas of what is valuable to us, and what that is can vary wildly from person to person. I get that, I do.

So what happened when D told me about the limited edition, blinged out Macbook Air (with 12,000 Swarovski crystals set on a layer of 24k gold), selling for $40K? With raised eyebrow and hands on hips, I asked disdainfully, "Who in his right mind would pay that much for a laptop?"

Uh huh.....'nuff said.

via The Huffington Post

What is arrogance?

As I step more and more into my power, I worry about becoming arrogant. It concerns me so much that thoughts about this have consumed countless hours of my time and have resulted in waaaaaay too much hair twirling.

The dictionary says arrogance is: offensive display of superiority or self-importance; overbearing pride.

Synonyms are: haughtiness, insolence, disdain.
Antonyms are: humility, modesty, diffidence

I cringe when I read the definition and synonyms. My whole body feels lighter when I read the antonyms. That tells me a lot about myself, who I believe myself to be, and who I absolutely want to be in this world.

And yet, I am supremely self-confident, and I really know my stuff. I refuse to shrink and pretend to be less than simply to make other people feel better about themselves, or to get them to like me.

What's that if not arrogance? That refusal to be small… that want to share what I know with the world…how is that NOT arrogant?

The other night on the Craig Ferguson show he said (jokingly) that the difference between self-confidence and arrogance is whether you agree with him.

That would seem to say that arrogance does not come from within, but rather is imposed upon you by others' views of you, your views, your behavior, etc.

I feel quite certain that there are people in this world who think I am absolutely arrogant. I talked with Dawn about it today and she said she has never once seen me as arrogant. In her view, someone is arrogant if closed to the possibilities inherent in the opinions or ideas of others. I love the possibilities inherent in the opinions or ideas of others. So maybe I'm not arrogant.

Last Tuesday, RA told me she believes me incapable of arrogance. Last Wednesday, JC echoed that, and said that graciousness and humility are my hallmarks, and that as I grow more into who it is that I am becoming, I'll actually become more compassionate and giving to others than I am today. I admit I was happy to hear that.

I try to relax into it. I really do. But it feels like I have to be ever vigilant—guarding myself against becoming that person I don't want to be. Perhaps that's a sensitivity that comes from having narcissists for parents. Something to consider, that. After all, when everything is about them, all the time, arrogance is something a child like me couldn't help but learn about, first-hand. Maybe I just worry about becoming like them.

Honest…if you ever see me being arrogant, you have my permission to bitch slap me. I won't even care if I disagree. It's something I would just far and away prefer to avoid, at any cost. Will you do that for me? Please? :)

Illusion of control

"if you hold on to the handle," she said, "it's easier to maintain the illusion of control. but it's more fun if you just let the wind carry you." -- brian andreas

It's come to my attention that I'm very much the "hold on to the handle" kind of girl. I don't want utter control, but it's rare for me to completely let go. In general, I've seen too many people abdicate responsibility for the sake of "letting go." I can't get myself to do that.

But maybe...just maybe, there's a middle ground. There's a difference, isn't there, between holding on tightly, and holding on loosely. My want is to hold on loosely. And, in situations where I see that I can absolutely let go, I'll practice doing just that.