These are a few of the biggification and business questions that I get asked pretty much all the time.

Since I am decidedly not good at short answers, today’s post is part of my practice.

I’m trying to figure out how brevity works. To not add sixteen caveats to each thing I say. To not give three examples. To release a truth and let it land, trusting that people have the skills and wisdom to consciously interact with it on their own.

Like with the stone skippings. Except what is landing is the answer, not the question.

And — I hope — the answer will ripple out into more questions, so you can discover the questions behind the questions, which are always the interesting ones.

“I can’t decide if these people are my Right People or these other people are my people. How do I choose who to market to?”

You don’t choose your people. Just like you don’t select your friends — it’s a process that involves both sides.

If someone falls in the general category of “they like you, you like them”, they’re your people.

“What if my right people can’t afford my services?”

Within the broader category of “people you are fond of who are also fond of you”, there will be some people who have money.

There will be people who are delighted to invest their money in what you do, as a way to take part in your world.

And others who may not be able to do that yet but are happy to be in your world and spread the word. They’re your community.

“But that’s impossible because my people are [homeless/cats/have taken a vow of poverty/ homeless cats taking a vow of poverty].”

Again, right people means everyone who thinks you’re neat. It’s all the people who like you — as long as you like them too.

So even if the people you help don’t have the resources to pay for that help, they’re not the sum total of “your people”.

Instead that term includes those who benefit from your mission, who approve of it, who are excited to hear about it and anyone who wants to support it.

“I thought I was doing what I loved but I keep burning out so it can’t be what I love, right?”

Burning out doesn’t necessarily mean you don’t love it. It just means you haven’t figured out how to take care of yourself yet. Most of us haven’t. Me, included.

Putting your attention to how to take care of yourself (and building supportive systems) will make some space to figure out what your relationship is with your work.

And then you’ll know more. You’ll either do something new or you won’t. But no matter what you decide, at least you’ll have changed how you approach it.

And comment zen in the blanket fort for today.

Nothing stirs up our stuck like business. As soon as we start thinking about it, we’re already dealing with our pain:

Old experiences of hurt and rejection and desire. Outsider complex. All of our walls and resistance. Things people have said that stung. Things we have tried that didn’t work the way we’d hoped.

So we tread gently here. We all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. It’s hard.

We make room for our stuff, and for everyone else to have their stuff.

And we take ownership of our pain so we don’t project it onto other people or situations. When people share things here, we create safety by not telling them what they should do or how they should be.

Love to all the commenter mice, the Beloved Lurkers and everyone who reads.

Confidential to L!

It’s worth investigating who’s really asking the question. Is there an authority figure who doesn’t need to be an authority figure?

Also: you might want to ask Slightly Future You what she knows about this. She’s already done it. Twice!

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