(If you’re viewing this in an email, please click here to see all links. XO)
In my coaching session today (yes, of course coaches have coaches…we need our own stuff out of the way so we can keep our focus on our glorious clients), my coach and I were discussing all of the projects that I had on the go (or on the brain) and the panic that I was feeling to GET. IT. ALL. DONE. AND. THEN. SOME.
I was going around and around and around and then…she told me to turn my brain off. Not for the session. Not for the day. But for a couple of days. Letting go of the thinking, thinking , thinking will make space for the new, she posited. And that it was critical to my business strategy.
That got my attention.
I literally stopped walking in circles and sank into my armchair and sat with this thought. Then I got really quiet.
It was in this stillness that I realized just how cooked I’d been feeling. Not like burnt toast mind you, more like an egg fried on hot pavement. Splattered, tough and gritty and not at all tasty.
I needed a brain-cation.
So I agreed to turn my brain off of the projects and products that keep my eyes fluttering and to give in to the slower pace in summer. Simple as that, right?
Not so much.
Turning the brain off, turns out, is not as easy as turning off a light switch or unclenching your butt cheeks. (Who knew?)
It wants a signal. Some sort of release that kick-starts another way of being.
So given that my natural way of being IS thinking, I thought and thought and thought and thought about how I could stop thinking. (This reminds me of the phenomenon of frantically racing across town to get to a yoga practice to get your zen on.)
And the absurdity of all this thinking about not thinking made me laugh at myself. Lo and behold, I started to feel lighter. Released endorphins will do that for ya.
So I’m thinking a really good, authentic, ab-scorching belly laugh with snorts should do the trick.
Maybe you could use the same.
In case you need some laughter-inspiration, here are some things that always make me laugh:
The word “fart”. And whoopee cushions (my nephews think I’m the best).
Reading the list of quotes we’ve been amassing from our daughter’s –isms over the year (“hold the big phone!” is a recent addition).
Seeing someone getting beaned by a ball. In a word: Dodgeball.
Recognizing that what appeals to my funny bone may not appeal to yours, I checked in with some people who make me laugh to see what makes them laugh.
My husband (the “funny one”, according to our daughter – I’m the “good cooker”) has been enjoying reading our friend Sharon’s Daily Toms. Also, apparently, the Old Spice Man thing.
Kelly likes “random, writerly, miniscule detail”. Like:
Russell Brand (about Katy Perry): “And she hit me on the crown of my human head! Where I do all of my thinking!”
Anne Lamott, on why wannabe writers don’t make time to write: “They start to explain that they have two kids at home, or five, a stable of horses or a hive of bees, and 40-hour workweeks.”
Annie Binns, on writing funny: “For example, a story about squirrels would be funnier if it were about nine beady-eyed squirrels that stuck to the side of my deck in formation, reminding me of the time my little brother glued his G.I. Joe’s to the kitchen wall and declared war against all things legume.”
quirky miniature details – my “human head”; “hive of bees” “all things legume” – make her giggle and guffaw.
And if NONE of that made you laugh (seriously?) then spend some time with the person in your life that makes you laugh so hard your lemonade comes out of your nose.
For Lisa, it’s her brother and sister. Asthma-attack inducing laughter.
For me, that’s my sister. When we really start to get going, our laugh starts to sync up and takes on a HE-HE-HE-HE frequency of its own. Much to the chagrin of the cats.
Am feeling a lot looser, a lot lighter and a lot more spacious. Will now give myself the next couple of days to enjoy a brain-cation. To notice unusual things, read some delicious fluff, listen to summer and see what shows up in the new space created.
And if it doesn’t? Meh. The calorie burn of laughter was good too.
In the comments, please share YOUR fail-safe, always-makes-you-laugh go-to.
My sweet sister gave my daughter and I a book the other day. One that I read with my own mother 30 years ago: Ramona and Her Mother.
Warm and wonderful memories flooded back as I snuggled my girl into my lap as we read about the dated trials and tribulations of precocious and tenacious 7 ½ year old Ramona Quimby. I confess that I read on after my girl fell asleep last night…so tempting was it to relive that closeness I remembered with my own Mama.
Plot summary: Ramona wants desperately to be “her mother’s girl”. She feels misunderstood, awkward (she’s neither a cute toddler, nor a responsible adolescent) and threatens to run away. Her agreeable mother helps her pack her suitcase. She jams in Ramona’s stuffies, books, box of baby teeth, roller skates, and a myriad of other unnecessary things. When Ramona tries to lift the suitcase, it won’t budge.
“You tricked me!” cries Ramona. “You made the suitcase too heavy on purpose. You don’t want me to run away!” Of course not, says her mother: “I couldn’t get along without my Ramona.”
Tears.
****************************************
Heavy suitcases that stop you from setting out on your journey.
Huh.
Let’s play with this metaphor, shall we?
I’m going to go ahead and assume that the destination of the journey is success. Just ‘cause.
Kind of exhilarating when you decide to set out down the road to success right? Exhilarating AND frightening. But more exhilarating than frightening, so you pack your suitcase and map the journey in your head. Ready, set and go…you grab the suitcase. It won’t budge. And let’s face it….you’re kind of relieved. You were sort of afraid to go down that road too.
Who made the suitcase so damned heavy? My best guess is those saboteurs/gremlins/trolls who want us to stay put. Exactly where we are. Nice and safe, cozy at home and watching So You Think You Can Dance and eating 7-layer dip. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.
What did they jam in the suitcase to make it so heavy?
My best guess here is fear, but wasn’t sure so I checked with the fine folks in my twittoverse. I tweeted this question:
Why do you think people are afraid of success? (“success” being subjective – in business, a project, a product etc)?
Resoundingly, they thought that fear of success was in cahoots with other fears.
Let’s unpack the suitcase to see what we can see.
Fear of failure – This one is the yang to success’s yin. Failure is bad. And you just might fail if you set out to succeed. Best to stay put. (Suit)case closed.
Fear of change – Everything is going to change with success, right? And change is scary and hard to manage. Will your kids need to go to a private school once you’re successful? Can you still go to the store in your Birkenstocks without makeup? Heck, you might not even KNOW how much things are going to change, so….
Fear of the unknown – Will I need to hire staff? How many people? Will they be dependent on me to feed their families?
Fear of sacrifice – What is the COST of success? You’ve heard that Martha Stewart sleeps only four hours a night. You can’t do that!!! Will you ever get to see your family?
Fear of disappointment –What if after all this hard work and lack of sleep you FINALLY get there and you’re STILL not happy? What if success isn’t the answer?
Fear of disappointing others –Some people have come to love the lack of success in your life. They like it that way (you make them look richer, thinner and more put together). What if your success makes others uncomfortable? Or what if others think you’re getting too big for your britches?
Fear of living up to the success – Once you GET the success, how can you ever keep it up? In her famous TED Talk, Elizabeth Gilbert acknowledges that the answer to “aren’t you afraid you’ll never be able to top [Eat, Pray, Love]?” is “yes”. And she’s goooooooooooooood. So how can YOU be expected to top YOUR success?
Fear of exposure – You’ll be in the crosshairs now of everyone’s rifle. Everyone will be watching you…waiting for you fumble.
Fear of scarcity – You only have one kick at the can, here, right? No room for mistakes…you’ll never get another shot at this.
No wonder you couldn’t lift this thing. Those are some pretty prolific saboteurs. They can jam a whole lotta trash into one Samsonite.
Whew.
Now, take a closer look at those piles and in the case. What else is going on? What other fears are lurking in there? Unpack those too. Get ‘em all out.
And now that you’ve unpacked every last fear from the suitcase and they’re sitting benignly in piles on top of your bed, what will you do?
Since I’ve been doing so well with guessing today, and I feel like I know you pretty well at this point, allow me to take one last guess. My guess is that GLORIOUS YOU does something like this:
You get really really clear about your destination: your vision of success. Crystal clear. Like down to the colour of your farmhouse in the Loire Valley. You know what you’re wearing to the awards ceremony in 2014 when you’re celebrated by your peers. You know what pieces of art will adorn your crisp boardroom walls.
You define your road map to success in your terms. Not Martha’s, nor Oprah’s. Yours. What you’re willing to say “no” to and what you’re willing to say “yes” to. Who gets to come along for the journey and who doesn’t.
You decide to take back your power from the saboteurs who are now nervously lurking in the corner. You decide to step strongly into your belief that you were put on this earth to create the work you do. And that you were put on this earth to succeed at creating the work you do.
You then grab the empty suitcase and revel in its lightness. There is much to see on your road to *enlightened* success…you’ll want the room to gather souvenirs.
You head out. Chest high, smile on your face. Passport at the ready.
Ramona was only 7 ½. Not quite ready to take on the world. But you are. And the world’s ready for you.
What follows is a great conversation with the one and only Dyana Valentine about breaking through the Dastardly Dip. You know the dip…the event that seems to happen, as if on cue, every time you set out to tackle a new project. You’re excited about the outcome, stoked about the process and can’t wait to celebrate completion.
So you get going, committed to minimize your time on Twitter to 30 minutes/day, inbox at zero, and a new playlist on the iPod. And off you go. Working, working, working. And you hit a block. You deke it and keep on going. But you notice that the adrenaline has started to fizzle. Even Beyoncé can’t keep you going. So you’re sitting there with a half-completed project, less sleep and more stress. And no celebration in sight.
The Dastardly Dip.
So what can you do? Push through? Quit? Phone a friend?
Here’s what the Mighty Dy has to say about it. She does, after all help “self-starters self-finish, one project at a time”.
I adore her. I suspect you will too.
(And if BTW, you’re interested in the backstory of this video, please see the text BELOW…this was no easy feat!)
One of the many “you oughtta’s” I’ve been hearing from every corner of my life has been: “you oughtta have a video of yourself on your site”. I tend to shelve most “oughttas” until the right time (and the right reason and the right partner) comes along. So when I asked Dyana to weigh in with some thoughts on the Dastardly Dip for a post a month or so back , and she offered to videotape a chat, I was over the moon.
MY FIRST VIDEO! With DYANA VALENTINE, no less!!!!
We had some techno-glitches (on my end) and with some patience and lip gloss, we finally got ‘er done.
While the vain girl in me is less than in love with the way I look at times in this video (exhibit A, the screen shot), I am thrilled with having broken through, and am grateful that Dy was my first!
I dreamt last night that I was late to a dinner party and the gracious host was doing introductions. She introduced me as a tennis coach. I took her aside and explained that I was a business and life coach. She nodded and proceeded to introduce me as a doctor. Again, I explained that I was a coach. She then introduced me as a therapist. Then a social worker. Then an actuary (???). And on, and on. And every time, I’d protest. Guests were getting uncomfortable. After a time, I finally agreed to a title that people intrinsically understood. It seemed to make things go easier all around.
Oy.
This sitcom-y dream reminded me of a conversation I had a long time ago with my friend and coach colleague Danette. We were lamenting the challenge of explaining to people what coaching is. We recalled poor Chandler Bing trying to get his friends to comprehend what he did for a living. (Programming? Something in distribution?)
What do I do as a coach? Well, that’s kind of like Chandler explaining his WENUS (Weekly Estimated Net Usage…which was better than The Annual Net Usage Statistics, but I digress), and may be better articulated by what I DON’T do.
I don’t fix problems. Know why? Three reasons:
That would be arrogant of me to think I know better than anyone else. Or that somehow I’ve got it all figured out (I don’t).
It would make ME feel good. While I do like to fix things, untangle knots and assemble IKEA furniture, this coaching ain’t about me.
It would rob clients of the juicy true learning and knowledge and it won’t help them in the long run. The same problem will come back to bite them in the ass in another way. Guaranteed.
And as much as I do dig the song, I will not try to fix you. Why? Quite simply stated, you’re not broken. You know it. I know it.
So seriously, have I just talked you out of hiring me? Wait, wait, there’s more!
What I DO do is help you discover what you truly want. Potty humour aside, I help you to become aware of what’s possible and available to you in your life and business AND what’s been holding you back. Help you make the choices rooted in your truth (because, really, no one else’s matters). And then I sit back and watch you take over the world. Or write that book. Shaking my pompoms the whole time.
A record-shattering 10 hour tennis match in Wimbledon, G-20 madness in Toronto, tornado warnings, and just for some added funsies, an earthquake north of Ottawa, with serious tremors felt as far away as Windsor, Quebec City, NYC and, of course, Toronto.
I had to interrupt a group coaching certification call I was on to figure out whiskey tango foxtrot was going on (my delightful Twitter network immediately assured me that I wasn’t going crazy!)
It was enough for me to call off a much anticipated vino date with a friend in favour of being home with my family. Just what my frazzled nerves needed. And that was good.
The experience got me thinking that making the earth move is something monumental that can happen very suddenly—in good ways as well as bad.
To celebrate this notion, I’m offering an insane Earthquake Special related to my Board of Your Life program. Have a look if you haven’t heard about how Board of Your Life inspires fundamental change in people’s lives—I’m talking real, earth-shattering change. And it’s insane because if you’re one of the first five people, it will cost you NOTHING.The following five people will get the program for $200. So, you’re either saving $1,000 OR $800. Not too shabby, eh?
Here’s how it works: contact me before 5pm EDT tomorrow, June 25, to state your interest in the program*. I’ll get back to you on Monday June 28th, to schedule a ten-minute phone call to discuss your interest in the program (not everyone is a viable candidate, but if you have the drive and the willingness to work, there’s no limit to what you could get out of this!)
Once we’ve gone through the few formalities, we’ll start the process to build and execute your Board of Your Life session. Just like that.
Earthquake tremors come and go in an instant, as do peoples’ impulses to act. If you think your life needs a shake up, send me an email—your instinct will guide you, but the results could resonate for the rest of your life!
*Spaces are limited to the first five (5) qualified candidates. The next five to ten qualified candidates will receive the program for $200. Live outside the Greater Toronto Area? We can still work together, though you’ll be required to pay my travel and accommodation costs, to be determined in advance.
“You CAN’T fail. It’s simply not possible.” Have you ever been told those words from a well-intending loved one? Words that come from a place of support and championing? Aren’t they wonderful?
What they are saying is: “only losers fail and you’re not a loser so, so failing’s not possible”. What they MEAN is: “I believe in you”. Bless ‘em.
Lately, I’m wondering about our relationship with failing.
Failing is soooooooooo bad. Shameful. Reprehensible, even. It makes people pity you.
I’d like to try to unpack this, if I may.
First off, what’s up with that faulty logic that failing at something makes you a failure? I have conquered the art of making a subtle yet sumptuous lobster bisque but this doesn’t make me Jacques Pépin. Sure, serving it makes me feel like a culinary rock star, but it’s fleeting. Same with failing. I am imperfect and when I fail, I get to choose how long I dwell in that place of licking my wounds. It doesn’t need to define me.
And oh yes, I have failed.
Secondly, I think it’s time we called failure out for what it really can be: a killer. Of dreams, good ideas and grand plans. It stops us from launching because we let it. Because the possibility of the shame is too great to bear.
And here’s what I am learning about failure:
Failure is the fastest way to learn.
I love the toddler-learning-to-walk analogy I learned in coach training. Ever watched watched one try? They don’t take courses, buy e-books or consult anyone. They wobble, flail, fall and get back up. Wobble, flail, fall and get up. Time and time again. Sure, they’re frustrated some, but that does little to dampen their enthusiasm for the process.
So falling down helps you to learn to get back up. This time, more steadily.
You know in your own life, that when one door closes, another one opens. I’m living in this one right now and arms are wide open to what’s coming.
There are two ways to fail:
1. Not going far enough and missing the opportunity. THIS is the sucky way to fail. I failed a Symbolic Logic course in University (this may come as no surprise to you if you’ve ever felt dizzy from trying to follow my circular logic). Why did I fail? Simple. I made other things more important, like smooching (a lot) and drinking (a lot) and wracking up (a lot) of shopping debt. Ahhh, the good ol’ days.
Given that I put no work into the course, I wasn’t surprised that I failed (I believe I called it “not passing”) but I still felt horrified. I remember calling my mother and she graciously offered that for what it’s worth, she still loved me and that I could still become a great Environmental Lawyer if that’s what I still wanted to do (I didn’t).
What she meant was: “I believe in you”.
2. Giving it your all and it just not clicking. THIS is the hero’s way to fail. I continue to be with Teddy R. on this one:
The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes up short again and again, because there is no effort without error or shortcoming, but who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, who spends himself for a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows, in the end, the triumph of high achievement, and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat.
“Citizenship in a Republic,”
Speech at the Sorbonne, Paris, April 23, 1910
Yeah. THAT’S how I choose to fail from now on.
And I believe that’s how you choose to fail too. Because, I believe in you. And I believe that you have the temerity and the resolve to go the distance and fail gloriously and spectacularly and learn lots and be open to what comes up for you. I believe all of that, and more.
So when you fail, come back to me and we’ll pop open a bottle of Veuve Clicquot to celebrate. Being brave enough to go to your edge deserves nothing less.
My husband’s folks own a delightful condo in Myrtle Beach. My wee family goes every couple of summers (not this one) and we all get our fix of favourite things: tennis, beach yoga, body surfing, ice cream, ridiculous arrays of potato chips (and I do mean RIDICULOUS), mini putt with dyed-blue water, crab legs, Charleston, Rolling Rock beer, outlet shopping and Nick Jr. (Not precisely a cultural renaissance, yet…)
Nick Jr may be the thing the kid misses the most – lazy mornings watching shows we don’t get in Toronto while we’d unhurriedly plan the day’s outings.
One of her favourite songs was and remains:
I love this song too. Instant mood-lifter, to be sure, but that’s not the only reason I love it. It comes down to the penultimate line:
You can be your you-iest.
Kelly reminded me of this in her heart-wrenching and achingly stunning post about bravely showing up and offering only your you-iest.
And it makes me wonder…
What would it mean for you to be your you-iest?
What would be different?
What would you get to say no to?
What do you get to say yes to?
What if you could be your own boss?
What if you could just show up…AS YOU ARE?
Moose A. Moose gives you full permission to be your you-iest. And so do I. Go on…start right now. From here. Show up fully as your authentic and glorious self…how can you be anything but?
I love a good challenge. In fact, I sometimes even co-design them. And I rarely back away from a good one. Rarely.
And yesterday, I almost did.
Last week, my family had the snot kicked out of it with some fabulous news delivered in a crap wrap. Much more on this later. (Dramatics aside, we are fine, together and with the exception of an unrelated sprained ankle, all healthy).
I’d been hearing about Bindu Wiles’ (fabulous Brooklyn-based Buddhist Writing Coach) ”21.5.800” community project: yoga and writing. While these are two of my favourite things, I am master of neither. (Ooooh…I LOVE the smell of possibility in the morning!)
The challenge: for 21 days, do 5 days of yoga a week and 800 words of writing per day.
Problem was, given that I’d allowed myself to be bullied into a corner by the crap-tastic news last week, I didn’t jump in to the challenge. I demurred. I abstained. I sat on the fence.
Then I did the math and it went something like this:
Resonant (read: exciting) challenge + awe-inspiring group of participants (Julie, Danielle, Dian, Hiro, Lianne, Jen, Marianne, Tia, Kelly, Andrew, Roseanne, Emma, and 230 OTHER coaches, writers, yoginis that I have yet to read/fall in love with) – being in a snot-kicked out of me kind of space = precisely what I need
So, I have jumped off the fence and am splashing around in the cool early June water. Refreshing and bracing.
Today is day 1. For the next 21 days, I’ll write 800 words a day…whatever I am moved to write (blog posts, strat/comm plan, workshops, journal and anything else that is begging to be expressed) and practice yoga 5 times a week. It will nourish me, heal me and should I find myself in the Dastardly Dip, I’ll know what to do.
I’m number 181 in the growing list of participants. Will you be next? What might it give you? Bindu’s made it easy for you to start wherever you are.
Am on Day 21 of my 30-day yoga challenge as part of the Great Canadian Yoga Stretch in support of CNIB. A funny thing happened (well, not as funny as my headstand, but I’m getting there) on Day 17. I got bored and started to feel pretty “meh” about the whole thing.
Up until then, I was excited about it: excited about the campaign, excited about the physical and psychological benefits of a daily practice and excited about the shifts that were happening.
So what happened on Day 17?
The Dastardly Dip happened.
What IS that, you ask?
Some call it the doldrums. Others, the principal ordeal of the hero’s journey. Quite simply, it’s homeostasis, darling. Homeostasis. You know: ye olde “old habits die hard” kinda deal if you will.
Change = hard (usually). It requires an expenditure of energy (a CONSTANT expenditure of energy) and until it’s fully realized change, then backslides (or temptations therein) are gonna happen.
The good news is that like its close cousins “stuck” and “funk”, it is impermanent AND part of a process. So much so that I caution clients about it when they sign up to coach with me (coincidentally, that’s the number one reason most coaches like to get a three month commitment from you..to help you through the Dip).
Said process goes a little something like this.
When we make the call to make a change, our minds are all pumped about it. We feel good, confident, excited. We tweet, Facebook and brag. We’re gonna DO IT. WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!! We OWN this gnarly wave, dude!!!
And then, things start to slow down. Mojo starts to slink away.
The subconscious is doing a “WHOA, there Nelly! You weren’t really SERIOUS about this, now were you?” and (tries to) block the change. And then your saboteurs crack open the Old Milwaukee and have a good ol’ porch party on your pride. “Who do you think YOU are?” What’s the point?” (and in my case) “You call THAT a crow pose, Lard Ass?”
Good times.
And you stop. The flow? Gone. Inertia? Vanished.
And you wait. For something. Anything. Or maybe you panic.
Now what do you do?
In my case, HOW I surf on out of the Dip depends on what the sitch is and it typically starts with connecting with the WHY of what I’m doing what I set out to do in the first place. In this, I look for which of my core values are being honoured (or not).
Case in point – The yoga challenge mini-Dip. I’m doing this challenge because:
I am volunteer chair of the campaign and it would be righteously wussy of ME to bail on the challenge. Unconscionable, really. {leadership}
Lots of people parted with their hard-earned cash and sponsored me. The way I see it, CNIB’s being paid $1,050 on my behalf to do this thing…I’d better deliver. {integrity}
I wanted to prove to myself that I could do it…the 30 days of yoga AND the headstand. {challenge}
In this case, it was pretty easy to shake myself off and get the wag back in my downward dog.
Sometimes, the Dastardly Dip is far, FAR deeper. More profound, if you will. Takes more elbow grease.
I asked the one and only Dyana Valentine, maven of gettin’ ‘er done, what her personal number 1 no-fail method of pushing through the Dip was. And she said:
The Dip is a state of mind, just like the Boost (the first few weeks of a new project, relationship or wow-I-can-keep-my-house-clean jag). So, when I get derailed from my committed state of mind, I go to the Sure Thing list. My Sure Thing list usually has about 5 items on it and hangs on a 3×5 card by the front door. These are the actions I can take when I’m in a Dip that change my state of mind. No, there is not a “just do it” item on the list. Here’s my current version:
shoes.water.two blocks (translation: walk out of this door now and change the scene)
library.funkynewmusic (translation: go to the library and pick out music you have no connection to, set timer for 15 mins, listen)
call _____________ (yes, this is blank because I check in at that VERY moment for a person’s name who will help me change the channel, NOT delight in the Dip or help me complain about my bull)
Now–this is a running list and it gets edited frequently–so don’t get yourself in a bunch if something on the Sure Thing list just doesn’t work for you–move on, delete, reorder the sucker. It’s there to serve YOU.
She’s good, eh?
Can’t share details of the work I’ve done with clients on this as that is THEIR story to tell. So here are the tools I’ve been know to use for MY personal Dips:
Phone-a-friend – like Dyana, I find someone who will help me to dig my heels in and turn this surf board around.
Change it up – find some new perspectives on this (and get some coaching on the issue, naturally) and plan from there.
Rest – I find the compassion for myself to get still, lick my wounds and heal. I get strength from this place. As the wise and wonderful Lianne has been know to quote Lao-Tzu: “all action begins in rest”.
Quit – if the WHY isn’t compelling enough or isn’t clicking with my values, then it may simply not be worth my time, talents or efforts. Quitting can give me room to shine at something else. Read Seth’s book on this. Revolutionary stuff in helping you to know when the time is right.
Must go…the yoga mat beckons (and I’m back to WHEEEEEEEEEEE about it).
While I’m gone, please share YOUR number 1 no-fail method of pushing through the Dip. Would love to know…and I’ll compile results in a handy-dandy inspiration post (with full props to YOU, of course) as an idea bin to “dip” on in to.
If you haven’t already, you will be hearing a LOT from Danielle LaPorte. She is the screaming-hot doyenne of fire-starting businesses and truths.
I’ve been eagerly anticipating her Fire Starter Sessions (digital book-meets-video seminar) for some time and my happy inbox received it yesterday. I cleared my afternoon calendar, intent on devouring the whole tome over a pot or two of tea. Once I got settled in my favourite chair with cat and blanket on my lap, it became QUITE apparent that this was not an issue of a glossy mag to be flipped through, stunning as it may be.
Every page is rich, rich, RICH in intersecting resources, ideas and strategy. Glorious multimedia: audio, videos, workbooks, oh my. And the words….poetry in power. Truth bombs rang in my ears long after I put it down. Like, say:
You can be modest and powerful.
Being well-rounded is highly overrated.
Face forward. We want to look ahead with you. Look backwards, and you lose us. The past is never as relevant as we might think it is.
Your most valuable currency is what comes most naturally to you.
Knowing how you actually want to feel is the most potent form of clarity that you can have. Acting on generating those feelings is the most creative thing you can do with your life.
Money: more is more. enough is plenty. (Heck, she’ll even show you her fiscals, because, as she puts it: “We can‘t give or receive if we‘re in hiding”. BOOOOOM!!!!)
So. Enough gushing from me. Treat your business and yourself to The Fire Starter Sessions. You can buy it here (and I make some money on your purchase as an affiliate…her genius idea, naturellement) or there (I don’t make money and that’s cool too…quite simply, good ideas need to be spread around).
And IF you want to get to know Danielle better (and you really, REALLY do!), you can read the e-terview I did with her in November of last year. Back then she said it was one of her favourite interviews. I blushed, well, ‘cause that’s what you do when your girl crush compliments you.
Here it is again:
******************************************
Danielle LaPorteis one of those people who makes you happy to be alive, you know? To celebrate living and being in truth, integrity and honour.
If you don’t know her (yet), she is (among many things) the creator of whitehottruth.com (a resource I devour heartily), author, speaker and commentator on the national CBC TV show, Connect With Mark Kelley. And oh so much more.
I’ve joyously connected with her several times (at her speaking engagements; a Fire Starter group in Toronto; and, an unforgettable phone session that I reflect upon frequently) and every time, I feel a touch more invincible, a bit taller and a hell of a lot more focused. She is gracious with her experience, her wisdom and her desire to help others succeed.
She hearts entrepreneurs and we heart her.
She generously (she’s like that) offered to be e-terviewed by me some time ago and, she is as much a woman of her word as she is a woman of her truth.
Whooshkamama.
The Quintessential Questions
My belief is that the disconnect between truth and lies that we tell ourselves is the basic difference between holding oneself back and holding oneself higher…whether we’re listening to our own truths or our own lies. You write about white hot truths…in the most sublime fashion. And I’m curious:
What was a lie that you told yourself that was holding you back for a good long time (in coaching, we call these voices that like to keep us safe and small “saboteurs”)?
I used to think that I needed business partners. That to really take my place as a leader, a voice, a minister of my rockin’ truth would have been a bit uh, arrogant, that it was more “evolved” to be “collaborative.” Of course that didn’t do anybody any ultimate good. I’m a Lone Ranger, and once I owned that, I was of greater service to everyone. And I laughed a lot more. A LOT more.
Bonus points if you have a characterization of your saboteur (i.e.Nick the Nihilist who always says “no, you can’t do that”)
I used to have a super ego named Starshyne McBalance. In all her 80’s New Age wisdom she had me repress a lot of power and pragmatism in the name of harmonic convergence and “keeping the peace.”
How did you turf that mo-fo out but good?
I learned the hard way. I’d “spiritualized” (read: sugar-coated, denied, made crap behavior “understandable”) so much for so long that when it all came tumbling down, it was clear that I needed to put accountability and integrity closer to the top of my “things I most value in my self and fellow humans” list. And at that point, my New Age alter ego knew she had to fend for herself. She’s working in an Ashram gift store in Idaho, hiding from creditors.
What’s the whitest, hottest, truth that you know?
Everything is progress.
What’s the blackest, coldest, lie that most people that you meet are living?
That they’re not worthy.
Do you have a physical reaction to a lie? (Note: if I feel one, in myself or one unrequited near me, I have an urge for a cigarette…so blessedly, it is rare).
When I know I’m being lied to by someone else, I get really quiet, like a Panther. And then I decide whether I’m going to pounce or prattle off. I’m usually just stunned when people lie, it just seems so, so…antiquated and violent.
What do you BELIEVE to be true but are still working on validating?
I’m actually working on believing less. Deconstructionism. It’s fun.
Is there a tension between the white hot truth-teller that you are (so gloriously) for AND the fact that you are (at your core) a self-proclaimed introvert? Please separate that collapsed distinction for us who think you must be one OR the other.
I am both and that’s that. That’s where I am in my life, a new place of is-ness. Okay, but to unpack it…it has helped me to find other freaks like myself to identify with, Thomas Merton for one. He was a remarkably devoted monk who craved the solitude that monastic life guaranteed. And…he loved the adulation that his essays and lectures brought. He also took liberties with a number of his vows, particularly the one about celibacy. My kinda guy.
What is the one thing that ALWAYS makes you giggle? (note: for me it’s the word ”fart”. I am a hit with kindergartners).
My husband has this annoyingly-endearing way of kissing up to me after I just wigged out on him about something. Smoochie koochie stuff that gets me giggling every time.
There is one truth that will set us all free from our own lies. What is it, DL?
I’m going to lean on Krishnamurti for this one. “Truth is a pathless land.”
Structures, and our lives and psyches are fraught with them, get between us and our knowing so often. Fewer rules. Deeper feelings.
******************************************
Accountability, giggliness, integrity, feeling, honesty, ambition, love, generosity, kindness, progress…these words make my heart sing. See why I dig this woman so much? You will too…just go and find her:
