What's in the gallery?

We dissolve stuck and rewrite patterns. We apply radical playfulness to life (when we feel like it!), embarking on internal adventures (credo of Safety First). We have a fake band called Solved By Cake. We build invisible sanctuaries, invent words and worlds, breathe awe and wonder.

We are not impressed by monsters. Except when we are. We explore the connections between internal territories and surrounding environment to learn what marvelously supportive delicious space feels like, and how to take exquisite care of ourselves. We transform things.* We glow wild.**

* For example: Desire, fear, worry, pain-and-trauma, boundaries, that problematic word which rhymes with flaweductivity.

** Fair warning: Self-fluency has been known to lead to extremely subversive behavior, including treasuring yourself unconditionally, unapologetically taking up space, experiencing outrageously improbable levels of self-acceptance, and general rejoicing in aliveness.

What's in the gallery?

We dissolve stuck and rewrite patterns. We apply radical playfulness to life (when we feel like it!), embarking on internal adventures (credo of Safety First). We have a fake band called Solved By Cake. We build invisible sanctuaries, invent words and worlds, breathe awe and wonder.

We are not impressed by monsters. Except when we are. We explore the connections between internal territories and surrounding environment to learn what marvelously supportive delicious space feels like, and how to take exquisite care of ourselves. We transform things.* We glow wild.**

* For example: Desire, fear, worry, pain-and-trauma, boundaries, that problematic word which rhymes with flaweductivity.

** Fair warning: Self-fluency has been known to lead to extremely subversive behavior, including treasuring yourself unconditionally, unapologetically taking up space, experiencing outrageously improbable levels of self-acceptance, and general rejoicing in aliveness.

Topless marketing and why you might be wrong

Self promotion for wimpsThe most interesting part so far of developing the non-icky self-promotion for people who hate self-promotion course has been the outpouring (okay, more like an in-pouring) of questions.

Questions, what-ifs and semi-anxious expressions of worry or doubt.

Of course I respond to everyone who shows up in my inbox with these “oh no!” kinds of things, but I thought it might be interesting to talk about this stuff here on the blog.

For a couple of reasons:

1. Maybe you also have some of these questions and aren’t asking them.

2. Maybe you also have those “Yeah, I would totally benefit from taking this course, but …” feelings — and some of your fears and doubts and old self-sabotage patterns are actually preventing you from doing the thing that would help you most right now.

3. Maybe you also lead courses or workshops of your own (or plan to in the future) and you’d like to learn a little about meeting people and their objections in a compassionate and understanding way.

You’re allowed to have any objections you like, of course.

Seriously … if you are on the fence, there’s probably a good reason for it. I’m not going to try and convince you that this is the thing for you. I’ll like you just as much even if you don’t take this course. And persuasion isn’t really my style, not to mention that it’s pretty irrelevant.

I mean, we have no shortage of participants, and anyway we really want the people who get how cool this is and are thrilled to be in it.

But I do think it’s useful to take an honest look at what-iffery and objections as they show up, because sometimes they contain interesting and useful information that can help you in your own self-work process.

If there’s “stuff” coming up that’s holding you back from living your mission, whatever it is, it’s good to know about it.

And if that old-pattern stuff isn’t what’s going on, that’s cool too. Maybe it’s still helpful to have some answers to someone else’s questions.

Here we go. Six perfectly logical objections and what-ifs of the “Oh no!” variety. And another way of looking at them.

Oh No #1. I won’t be able to make it to the classes.

This is a big one. Mostly from people who work at the kind of jobs where you have to actually be in an office. (Though not for long, right? That’s why you’re drawn to this course.)

But also from people who are moving apartments, have to take their kid to swim practice, or have something else already booked in that slot.

I get how uncomfortable it could feel to sign up for classes where you won’t or might not be able to actually be present. It probably feels awkward and maybe a little nerve-wracking because you need to know that you can really squeeze all the benefits from this thing.

Here’s the thing — you definitely don’t have to be there for the classes. You will want to listen to the recordings if you want it to work, but you can do that whenever you like.

And we’re going to be answering ALL the questions that people in this course throw at us. So once you’re in, it’s in your interest to email us questions about any aspect of the stuff we talk about (questions -at- HaviAndNaomi -dot- com) so we can make sure that they get answered. We’ll either address them specifically in the classes or email you directly.

You know what? I often take courses where I won’t be able to make the class. I just listen to the recordings at a time that makes more sense to me, and then email in my questions.

I actually prefer it that way because it’s nicer to listen in the evenings when I’m more relaxed. Plus I’m a total introvert, so sometimes get nervous that people will put me on the spot by “making me” talk, as sometimes happens (not in our course, though, yuck).

Anyway, there’s a woman in the course from Singapore. Singapore! She’s not going to be calling in at four in the morning because that would be insane. And I’m going to guess that the people in Spain and Austria taking this course will probably be listening to the recordings too.

If you ask anyone who knows me and/or Naomi, they’ll tell you that we over-deliver like crazy. So if you’re in the class we’ll probably end up answering way more of your questions (and way more in-depth) than you ever bargained for.

(Also, if you’re still not clear on how a teleclass works, this page is for you.)

Oh No #2. There’s too many people. I won’t get enough attention.

Some people kinda freaked the heck out because we set the upper limit at 180 people. I admit that 180 people sounds like a lot. It’s really not, but let me explain how this works.

We’d actually originally planned to have 75 people in the class. Then a couple of people got really anxious. They apparently think we’re even more internet-famous than we are, because they were sure all 75 seats would be gone in an hour so they didn’t even want to bother trying.

Which would be sad, you know? Because we totally want people to feel safe and comfortable and welcome, and not be caught up in the “I’m not biggified enough to send Havi and Naomi an email” stuff. Which is a pattern. Which you can work on in this course if you want.

Anyway, we wanted people to feel like they had a good chance of getting in, and debated about what too many people would look like. And then I remembered the Rule of Teleclass Weirdness.

Teleclass weirdness has to do with the fact that it’s not just me who doesn’t call in. I took a course once — lead by some seriously biggified people — with over 150 people in it. And usually only about fifteen to twenty people would show up on the calls.

I’ve been on teleclasses (and facilitated calls) where eighty people sign up and only four actually call in. This also holds true for classes which people pay a lot of money for, not just the freebies.

We seriously, seriously doubt that even a third of the people who take this class will actually be present for the calls.

Should you be present? Yes please, if you can. It’s a great way to make sure we know who you are, which means that your chances of us helping you out at some point in your biggification process are way higher. But you don’t have to be there.

It’s not about the attention thing. If you’re in the course, you’ll get our attention. You’re allowed to send in as many email questions as you like, which is already practically like having your own super-cheap consultant.

And if you show up on the calls, you’ll probably get a chance to have your questions answered there too. Because it’s not going to feel like 180 people. It’s going to feel like hanging out with me and Naomi.

And if it doesn’t? We’ll find a way to take care of that and make sure you’re taken care of too. Not a likely scenario, but if it happens, we’ll deal with it.

Plus you get to impress 180 people with how cool you are. That huge class I took? I got clients from that class. I made some of the best connections in my business from that class. Plus those seriously biggified people who were teaching it now know who I am and think I’m cool.

Chew on that.

Oh No #3. It’s just going to be stuff I know already.

“I know all this stuff already, I just haven’t implemented it. It’s not like I need you to give me a pep talk.”

That’s cool. That’s great that you already know where you’re going and how to get there. Sounds like you also know why you haven’t implemented it.

That’s the stuck part we’re planning on working on.

We weren’t actually planning on giving pep talks. This is not going to be the same old motivational stuff or the typical “think positive” stuff. Meh. Gross.

It’s about zapping you (gently but firmly) with some breakthroughs.

Actually, this is the only program I know of that really works on the emotional stuff behind your biggification challenges and backs it up in the practical. We’re going to be using some unconventional stuff to release some old patterning and we’re going to be giving you tools to apply the stuff you think you know.

Maybe you know it in your brain but it hasn’t taken hold in your body and consciousness. Or maybe you think you know it, but it hasn’t really sunk in.

But you probably don’t know what we’re going to be working with. Because we’re going to be talking about stuff that we have never discussed on our blogs …. stuff that we’ve never seen taught anywhere else.

Of all the reasons not to take this course, this one is not the one to listen to. Maybe the next one is. Maybe.

Oh No #4. It’s too expensive.

Okay, this one might actually be a reason to not take the course. One of my readers said that it’s about half of what he earns a month. That is a legitimate Oh, no! He should not be taking this course.

Naomi and I get that. We get it because we’ve both been poor. And I don’t mean poor like those irritating “man, I should cut down on that latte habit” scenarios you read about on personal finance blogs.

I mean out of work and out of a place to stay. I mean counting pennies and wondering where your next meal is coming from. I mean depending on the kindness of strangers. It sucks.

So if you’re there, don’t take this course.

On the other hand, if the money issue is one of your big life themes, which (welcome to being human) it probably is, then this tangled stuckification is keeping you back. And if you can work through even a small chunk of your deep, dark money and success fears during our course, it will pay for itself pretty quickly.

Also, just for some perspective, there are comparable courses (some that we don’t think are remotely as good) that cost easily three to four times as much.

We made a conscious effort to make this as do-able as possible for the people who need it.

Oh No #5. It’s too cheap. Now I doubt that it’s actually worth it.

See above. See our blogs. See everything on the internet. This is just not worth explaining. If you don’t get how ridiculously loving we’re being by making this available to the people who need it most, we probably don’t want you in our course.

Oh No #6. I don’t know what I want to do yet.

Okay, that’s legit too, and we will probably do a course at some point that will help people figure out what their awesome mission is, but you know what?

One of the main reasons you’re not figuring it out right now (or even working on figuring it out) is that you’re paralyzed by the big, scary, overwhelming what-ifs. If you don’t resolve some of those fear patterns, you’re not likely to get to the figuring it out point very quickly.

Heal a big, crazy chunk of the “Oh no, what if I fail horribly?” and the “Oh no, what if everything goes right and I still don’t like myself?” and all that will change. You’ll be enthused to start working on it, insights will come pouring in, and when you do start biggifying your super cool thing, you won’t be tripping all over your emotional stucknesses.

If you need this course, you probably already know you need it. Talking yourself out of it is the fear talking.

If you don’t need this course or now just isn’t the right time, we’ll love you just the same.

The point of this very, very long post.

So figure out what it would feel like to step out of the guilt and the shoulds for a minute and into the “how can I take care of my stuff in an intelligent, compassionate way” mindset.

And if you’re promoting a course, product or whatever (or planning on doing something like that eventually), make sure you know what’s scaring the hell out of people so you can talk to them.

And don’t forget the most important part which is: their fears — even the ones that make no sense to you at first — are always legitimate, because look, there they are. If it’s real for the person feeling it, it’s real. Period.

Anyway, major destuckification coming up.

Non-icky self-promotion for people who hate self-promotion.

First class starts WEDNESDAY (day after tomorrow) … here’s where you sign up if you’re not in yet.

Coupon code havi still gets you $30 off, FYI.

Got more questions? Bring it on!

p.s. Don’t forget the best part of learning by teleclass: you don’t have to get dressed! Naomi will probably be topless — it’s practically her brand. I will most assuredly be modestly clothed … but barefoot. And Selma (my duck) will likely be completely nekkid. Though please don’t draw attention to that, she’s a sensitive flower.

Point is: show up shirtless if you like! This might even be the only topless marketing program around.

Ask Havi #6: the “borrowed inspiration” edition

Ask Havi I know, we’re falling way behind on the Ask Havi posts.

Thanks for your patience, all you interesting people I don’t know who ask me questions, because I am thinking and percolating. And I will, eventually, get back to you.

Today’s Ask Havi is from Corey in Dallas, Texas and though it’s kind of a technical question, it does have some business implications.

Also, a great way to get someone to read your email is to say in the subject header: “I’d like to steal from you”.

Total attention-getter, that.

Anyway, here’s Corey:

I am recent discoverer of your blog and website. I love it and look forward to more. Anyway, down to business. I am a therapist by trade, branching into the writing world and then the marriage coaching world this fall.

I like your info pages on the coaching stuff and would like permission to build from it for my own stuff. I will alter the wording obviously as my target will be couples, but I want to keep everything above board on resource stealing. If you have any issue with this, please let me know and I will honor your wishes. Thanks Havi.

So I went and checked out Corey’s blog. It’s at www.SimpleMarriage.net and he writes about marriage and relationships. That means both the big themes (partnership and self-work) as well as the more day-to-day aspects of how-to of living intentionally with someone else.

Yeah, it’s not all stuff that speaks to me specifically but I totally got that he’s in integrity and a good guy. No sleaze, no weirdness. Just someone who cares about his theme and is trying to biggify. I got it.

So what’s the protocol?

We’ve all been there. It’s the most natural thing in the world. You really like the way someone sets up their business and you want to kind of use them as a model. Then you start to wonder, hmmm, what is the protocol for borrowing / adapting / stealing? And is that even a legitimate thing to do?

This is a question I’ve been asked before … and the truth is, I never really know how to answer it.

It’s hard for me to get clarity on this. Part of me is a big believer in the whole “well, there’s nothing new under the sun, so of course we all borrow stuff to some extent from people we admire, and it’s fine” thing.

And part of me really wants to (gently) challenge people to do some creative stretching and really find their own voice, as opposed to doing the easy thing — borrowing someone else’s.

Both of these are true. There is nothing really new. And at the same time, each of us has a unique voice that gives its own special spin to the thing we do. And cultivating that voice — learning to trust that voice — is important.

You can probably guess how much my butt hurts from all this fence-sitting. There was a point where I could clearly feel myself getting sucked into the Tevya thing of “on the one hand, but on the other hand, but oy, on the first hand”, which is no fun.

Plus, if I over-think this to death, that won’t exactly help poor Corey. Or this post.

When in doubt, ask the “other” experts.

So I asked a bunch of friends who have are marketing people and have cool businesses.

They tended to be even more cautious than I am. For example:

You get the weirdest emails!

I would be okay with someone building on my idea to have packages, but not okay with them using the same packages, pricing and wording. Okay with borrowing basic navigation but not with duplicating the same exact structure of pages, paragraphs.

Tell this person, it’s important to find lots of people to inspire you so you can get ideas from many places and use what works for you. Havi is but one of many awesome people!

Basically everyone said to be very firm about boundaries and what to let people use. Some also thought I should ask for attribution and links and stuff.

They could be right. I mean, they usually are. To me though it kind of seems like Corey is more looking for inspiration and ideas than anything else. And my sense was that he just wants to make sure it’s all on the up and up. Or some reassurance.

So even though my initial feeling was “mmm, I don’t know about this”, at this point I I’m leaning towards these three things:

1. Inspiration is awesome. Yay, inspiration. Absolutely go out and use any inspiration juice you can get to help write your own stuff.

2. Make sure though that you’re being inspired by more than one person.

3. Use your own voice. Trust your own voice. Dig into your own creative force to make not just the words but your offerings a true reflection of the cool stuff you do.

But yeah, other than that?

Ignore everything and trust your gut.

Okay, I came up with three pieces of advice, but what it really comes down to is this: everything else aside, I trust Corey.

Corey seems like a good guy. If Corey wants to take some of “my” ideas that I got from being inspired by other cool, interesting people than Corey should go for it. Of course, if Corey took my stuff and pretended it was his own without doing anything to make it really his, my duck would throw a fit.

But if Corey were that kind of person he wouldn’t be writing to me to begin with saying “Can I steal your stuff?”

So I’m going to let this question remain on a case to case basis. And I’m going to work on trusting myself to trust myself. And everyone else can work on trusting themselves to find the right balance between being inspired and being true to themselves. As well as trusting their own inner knowing of “yes, I’m in integrity here”.

Worst thing that happens is we all get to work on our trust issues a little. Which is actually one of Corey’s blog themes too.

Friday RoundUp #5: the “Selma for Prez” edition

Selma for PrezBecause it’s Friday AGAIN. And because traditions are important.

In which I cover the good stuff and the hard stuff in my week, trying for the non-preachy, non-annoying side of self-reflection.

And you get to join in if you feel like it.

The hard stuff.

Sad nooz.

So, as you may remember, I broke up with my noozletter. Most people were cool about it. Some people didn’t like it. In fact, the whole thing triggered stuff that I hadn’t really bargained for.

Some people wrote to say that they felt hurt and upset by the change because it seemed like I was abandoning them. “Kicked to the curb” was the way one put it, and she’s a friend, so it’s not like I can just say, “Oh, well, people have issues …” and leave it at that.

I certainly never meant to hurt anyone. It hadn’t really occurred to me that there were people who were super excited about yay, alternate Wednesdays!

It turns out that some people really felt safe and comfortable getting my “ways to work through your habits” essays … and they just don’t connect to the blog, or haven’t tried to.

So that was sad. I really do want to care for the people in my orbit, and I can’t do it for everyone. Everyone needs safety and reassurance sometimes, including me, and it made me ponder the ways I can spread some of that around and the ways I can’t.

The good stuff

The five day vacation.

Beach. Water. Expanse of horizon.

Also good food, good friends and all that stuff. But mainly lots of dancing it up in the sand and being one with the universe and stuff. Whoah.

Also: picking blackberries!

With people so sweet that even though they barely know me, they still remember that I don’t eat sugar, so when they bake a blackberry crisp they leave some blackberries out and surprise me with a bowl for breakfast.

But really just this:

Vacation rocks. I need to do that stuff more often.

Best fanmail ever.

No fansocks yet but man, the fanmail this week! I am the luckiest person alive. I’m just going to quote some choice fragments here …

To Havi the Happy and Selma Anas Flava Superba, Greetings,

That was a wonderfully inspirational and insightful piece for hoi polloi. I just love your sentence-fragment style and the masterful way you in which you change type size to alter the emotional impact.

I would nominate you as a National Treasure, except that probably no country would accept an ecstatic gypsy as one of theirs …

Happy Havi Trails to you and squishy paths to Dr. Selma

Or tell me that this isn’t completely awesome …

Two things have occurred to me:
1) You’re human catnip
2) I’m borderline becoming a stalker

I read your writing and you flow through. You reach out, grab me, and make me aspire to be a better writer and person.

And you come with a duck. A duck, I tell you!

The people who read this blog: not only do they appreciate me for being weird and cool, but they’re so weird and cool that they blow me out of the water. Out of the weirdness-coolness water.

Even better than “Yay, fanmail!” is the way you guys have inspired me to step out of my own introverted world so much more.

I never used to just write to someone I admire to say “Hey, you’re the coolest!” … but now I do it all the time. Thank you for that.

Speaking of people who are amazing …

Today is Friday. I find that hard to believe too, but here it is. Today is Friday and the non-icky self-promotion for people who hate self-promotion course with Naomi starts this WEDNESDAY (I know — what?? Already??!?).

Time: it moves fast.

So, as you can imagine, Naomi and I are giddy with excitement because we can’t wait to start teaching and playing. We can’t stop calling each other to talk about the material and all the ways we’re going zap us some breakthroughs.

And since we said “Hey, ask us as many questions as you want because we’ll answer them” and the class is filling up fast with smart, creative, fun thinker-ey people, a gigantic pile of questions is forming. And these questions are so, so great.

This is looking to be a terrific group of people, and at this point I’m really just looking forward to hanging out with them. They’re pretty much all people that you will be writing fanmail to.

And as everyone in the group gets better (or even better, in some cases) at doing the “Hey, here I am, shining my light and helping my right people” thing and feeling comfortable with it, you’re going to be finding these people.

And it will blow your mind. Honestly, you won’t be able to not write them fanmail.

My super famous duck!

Everyone loves Selma. That’s a given. Hell, she gets more fanmail than I do. Also, people send me weird duck-related things because they think I like ducks. I really just like Selma, but I also like getting random mail from people so you can keep sending the duck things.

One of these weeks I’ll just do a duck round-up from stuff people send me and it will blow your mind.

Anyway, my father sent me this weird, creepy video about some other duck named Selma who is running for President?

I was all, it can’t be my Selma. Because she’s, you know, busy. And kind of apolitical, even for a duck.

That duck named Selma is a total slut. My duck named Selma is earnest, charming and she likes you. Unless of course that duck named Selma is my duck named Selma, which is also possible.

Selma for PrezOkay, at this point no one is finding this funny but me, so I’ll stop. I just want to mention that Naomi was the first person to call my duck a whore, so it looks like the mudslinging has already begun. Selma for Prez!

If you do nothing else today, put the badge up on your site, support Selma the duck in her odd campaign, and make everyone you know go Huh?!

That’s it for me ….

And yes, absolutely join in my Friday ritual if you feel like it and/or there’s something you just want to say out loud too.

Yeah? What was something good and/or hard that happened in your week?

And of course: happy weekend. Happy week to come. Selma for Prez!

The art and science of pricing

Okay, so one of the big themes on this blog is biggification — the art of putting yourself out there and growing that cool thing you do (or want to do) — and how to do that mindfully.

And one of the scariest parts of mindful biggification is pricing.

Pricing as in: choosing or recognizing what you want to charge for the things you offer, and feeling okay with it. Or maybe even good about it.

I could probably write posts about pricing every single day for a year without running out of stuff to say about it, so I’m feeling a little unsure about how to narrow this the heck down to make the specific points I want to make today. Oh, well.

Here’s the short version:

1. Yeah, pricing. Scary stuff.
2. Comparison-based thinking will always get you down.
3. The help you need on this is internal, not external.
4. There will always be other people whose “stuff” is really, really loud.
5. It’s all about you. It’s also not about you.

Shall we?

1. Yeah, pricing. Scary stuff.

We all have issues around money that we need to work through and process like crazy in order to be happy and successful in business.

Having a business or project or some entrepreneurial something or other is the best (and hardest) therapy there is, because it throws you right in to a really intense self-work process.

You pretty much have to be in this process because if you don’t deal with your stuff — i.e. your frightened, overwhelmed, hurt, resentful, unintentionally self-destructive stucknesses — you get bogged down and can’t do the thing.

And doing the thing is part of your mission. Plus it makes you money. You want to do the thing.

So everyone’s dealing with their own personal tangle of “am I good enough?” and “I don’t want to be a jerk” and “I don’t want to undersell” and “when will I start thinking I’m worth it?” and all that stuff. A ton of fear comes out in pricing.

Naomi and I are going to be devoting a lot of energy to this theme in our non-gross self-promotion for people who hate self-promotion course, because ignoring it can cause major resistance and stuckification in your business.

Seriously, at least half the time when you’re procrastinating it’s because this stuff is skulking under the surface and you’re just not dealing with it. Avoidance patterns are normal, of course, but they don’t exactly help you do your best work.

2. Comparison-based thinking will always get you down.

So you’re craving some safety and reassurance and you start looking around to find out what everyone else is doing. You figure, “Oh, I’ll just do stuff the way they do because that’s safer.” You decide you’ll charge the same as them or maybe a little less.

Oh honey, not a good idea.

I know, it’s really tempting. And I know, it’s what pretty much all the experts say to do. And yes, occasionally it’s useful to know the range. But comparison-based thinking will ultimately leave you feeling hurt and confused.

Which doesn’t really do much for your stuck, stuck patterns.

For one thing, this course Naomi and I are doing? We’re definitely at the low end of the scale. But the scale is enormous. Prices in the internet world for a six week online course can range from $79 to $1200. Sorry, $1199. Whatever. Point is: that’s a pretty big range.

So then you’d end up going into the whole “how biggified am I compared with how biggified are they” comparison thing and it’s exhausting and bad for your soul.

You start thinking, but wait, ours comes with genius ideas and big crazy support. But wait, theirs comes with blah blah blah. But mine … but theirs … No good.

You still haven’t given your inner stucknesses the attention and love they’re clamoring for. So they’re not going to stop the yammering freak-out-fest any time soon.

Here’s another thing. Comparison takes you away from yourself. As my friend Mark Silver — wacky ultimate-frisbee playing Sufi business genius says (quoting some Sufi saying) “Comparison is from the devil.”

Devil or no devil, it’s looking to external factors for an internal answer. And sorry, inner wisdom trumps all other cards.

3. The help you need on this is internal, not external.

Your body is smart. It knows things you don’t know. Excuse me while I go into wacky hippie gobbledygook for a minute but there’s wisdom in your muscles and in your heart and in your neurons that (most of the time) you’re just not accessing.

Why not? Your focus is outside. Busy with comparison. And analysis. Actively or passively repressing all that internal knowledge of sometimes uncomfortable things you know and feel. That’s the external.

Pricing seems like it should be an external process (it’s the market, right?) but it’s actually an internal process.

Mark talks a lot about pricing resonance, which turns out to be a very helpful term. The idea is that sometimes someone else’s price feels right. And sometimes it doesn’t.

When it feels right it’s never about whether the sum itself is a lot or a little. That part isn’t relevant. $250,000 might feel right for a certain house while $2.50 might feel like way, way, way too much for a cup of tea that isn’t even very good in a really loud, annoying cafe.

Resonance is always situational. You feel it or you don’t. And your goal in setting your prices is that your right people — the people you really want to serve — feel it too. They get that “mmmmm, yeah, that’s exactly what it should cost” vibration.

Mark teaches a really, really cool exercise for testing pricing resonance and getting to your right price, whatever it is. I use my own wacky version of this exercise for my products and programs, and it’s saved me hours and days of agonizing. And yes, when your price is the “right price”, more sales happen.

So when Naomi and I started working on our course, at the pricing point I had to stop and say, “Sorry, do you mind if we do something that’s just a leeetle bit wacky?”

And Naomi, for all of her hard-ass potty-mouth ways, is totally up for wacky, even though she’ll probably smack me around for saying that out loud (bring it on, baby). She can handle the wacky.

Anyway, we went way, way internal on this one, and we got the resonance.

For this program — the one that was designed specifically for for a certain type of person who reads our blogs. For someone who will never take the $1200 version of this type of course. For someone who is so in the stuck that this would be a big, madcap, joyous, welcome space for them to do some untangling and start moving.

The crazy thing is that we worked it out separately, writing down the numbers that were really feeling right and the ones that weren’t so good … and our results were practically identical.

Seriously. We weren’t just in a resonant state with ourselves, we were in resonance with each other. We were never more than $5 apart with any possible price.

And, as it turns out, we were in resonance with our right people.

4. There will always be other people whose “stuff” is really, really loud.

Here’s how I know we were resonant:

1. The VIP seats got snapped up in less than 36 hours (we actually just decided to allow eight more people in because people complained, and three of those spots are already gone).

2. A ton of people have emailed me to say how elated they are that we’re doing this and how it just feels right. Even people who can’t afford to take the course right now are saying this. That’s resonance.

3. I can feel it. In my heart. It’s a warm, steady, buzz that is so, so right.

Now, not everyone is going to feel it. And people who have stuck stuff of their own are going to show up too.

That’s one of the reasons so many smart, creative people freak out about pricing. Because they don’t want to hear “Hey, that’s too much!” Fear of criticism is even stronger than fear of getting the pricing wrong — and that’s enough to stop a lot of people from even offering the thing in the first place.

So yeah. Though I hate to say it, there will be people who don’t like your prices. Naomi talked the other day about how to be strategic about pricing and she said we’d gotten letters from people saying that our awesome course is too cheap.

I’m not sure how much mail she gets (probably a ton), but I got exactly one email that said too cheap, one that said argh, too much, I wish I could take this but I can’t and over twenty that specifically said ohmylord this could not be more perfect.

That’s resonance. That’s the power of having done the internal work is that you can trust the resonance. You know it’s the right price. You checked in with yourself and you felt it.

It isn’t going to ring for absolutely everyone, of course — so if you hear from people who aren’t clicking with your price, that’s probably a sign that they’re not your right people.

It’s probably a sign that some part of what you do is just not right for them. Or that it’s bringing up some of their stuff. That’s their stuff.

Is their stuff having an uncomfortable effect on you? Are you feeling worried and insecure because you really need to know that you’re taking care of people? That’s your stuff. Which is okay. You’re allowed to have it. It’s part of the process and it’s normal.

5. It’s all about you. It’s also not about you.

When your stuff comes up, it sucks. Yuck. It’s also a reminder that it’s time to say hi to said stuck stuff and find out what’s going on. To remind yourself that it’s temporary and that you’re allowed to be human and have issues.

That’s the part that’s about you.

That the sign that it’s time to turn inward again and get back into your heart and body. That’s where you remember that you’re allowed to feel vulnerable. That’s also where your strengths are. It’s where you’ll remember what resonance feels like. And you’ll remember that if it’s not resonating with everyone, that’s a good thing.

You want to help your right people. That’s who your right price is for. Anyone who’s not there at this point is going to be helped by someone else — they’re somebody else’s right people. Sometimes it is about you — but mostly? It’s not.

So you work on your stuff and let everyone else work on theirs. The very worst thing that will happen is you’ll get better at trusting the resonance, you’ll practice some compassion and maybe you’ll even feel okay about being nice to yourself once in a while.

That’s it. I’m done talking about pricing.

Internet hugs to all.

And … if you want to grab one of the remaining VIP seats from the new batch — or if you just want to take our awesome, awesome class that deals specifically with these very themes, don’t forget to type havi when the shopping cart asks you for a coupon code. You’ll save $30 that way and yes, I meditated on that and it feels great.

Why the stuff you hate is useful

And why you still don’t have to do it even if it is.

Some people hate incredibly tacky Christmas decorations. Some people hate cherry Coke. Or, you know, things like racism and war.

Me? I hate charades. Not “people pretending to be something they aren’t”, though I’m willing to concede that this could also be pretty annoying. The game.

This is, obviously, not something that generally gets a lot of thought. But my gentleman friend and I spent the weekend at a house on the coast with a bunch of his college friends who — twenty-some years later — still get together to hang out.

They’re all completely awesome, so yeah, much fun was had. But then one night they were playing charades. And I don’t play charades.

And to be honest, I was pretty obnoxious about it. Well, I ran away.

Okay, not really. I just disappeared upstairs with Desmond.

Desmond is eight. And way smarter than I am. We went and practiced our ninja kicks and invented some very um, inventive kung fu moves.

And then we played an existential pirate game that I can’t really explain other than that it involved pirates and discussing varying degrees of nothingness. Des was better at conceptualizing it than I was.

But eventually bedtime rolled around which meant (for me) going back to the world of grown ups. They were still playing charades and I was still acting like I was eight. Maybe not as obnoxiously as it seems in my mind, but there was definitely some yawning and eye-rolling.

The first insight.

Luckily I’d spend the better part of the weekend doing Shiva Nata (my wacky yoga brain training thing), which is all about generating big, fat insights and light bulb moments.

Here’s one of them.

It dawned on me (thanks, neural connections) that I’d spent my entire childhood impatiently waiting to grow up. Because, you know what? I didn’t really like being a kid.

Is that sad? Hmmm. Maybe, but that’s not the point.

Mainly I just didn’t like being told what to do. Between being told what to learn in school and how to play at summer camp, it was all about resistance to being herded, guided and grouped.

Other people always had the final say over how I spent my time. No one ever consulted me, and the things they came up with were stupid things like charades.

And since I always had a much better idea of what the best thing to do would be, it seemed as though life would be a lot easier if people would just let me do my thing.

Since I wasn’t equipped with quite the right skills to deal with all that resistance and frustration, I just waited.

For a really, really long time.

In high school people said that at university you’d be able to take classes you actually liked. But then it turned out that at university they didn’t really like you to think for yourself and that you had to wait for graduate school to do real thinking. And then it turned out that wasn’t true either.

Eventually I did grow up — and stuff was hard and I was poor. Five years working as a bartender in Tel Aviv was enough to bring home the realization that no, people will tell you what to do. Forever. That’s what having a job means.

Which is a big part of the appeal of owning your own business. Yes, time and money will dictate much of what you do, but at least you’re the one analyzing the situation and steering the course.

Plus you get to take naps whenever you want. Naps!

Being an adult means you should get a free pass from charades, right?

The whole point of grown-up-ness, as far as I’m concerned, is that I don’t freaking have to play charades.

That no one can herd me into a group and tell me how to spend my time. That no one else gets to make rules. That I can go to bed when I want (the earlier the better, thank you very much), read what I want and even do what I want.

Obviously we’re all limited by stuff like time and money. And the laws of physics (ow, stupid gravity!). Oh, and various acquired beliefs and conceptions about what is possible. Beliefs that lead into some pretty painful tunnel-vision-ey consequences.

But within all that, at the very center is a hurt, bored kid who wants some autonomy. Who wants to be trusted to choose.

It just boils down to the raw desire to have some degree of choice (and through choice: power) over how you spend your time. Or at the very least your “free” time.

Part of this is just that I want to spend my time in self-work and in helping others. So yeah, I’d rather be engaged in one meaningful conversation (even if it’s about pirates) than in playing a game. And I’d rather be off doing yoga or writing than a moderated or mediated version of “hanging out”.

Okay, it’s my stuff. But it’s mine, and the process of learning how it works is fascinating and useful.

What I’m taking from this.

There’s always going to be stuff you can’t stand doing.

Some of it you can work on, poke at, and shift so that you get to the point when yes, you really won’t have to do it any more.

Some of it you’re probably going to end up choosing to do anyway, because of some deeper benefit or result that makes it all worthwhile.

Some of it you’re just going to rage against until you eventually, finally, get to the point where you can learn from it.

So now my thing is this: how can I be really, really conscious about how I choose to spend my time?

Part of that is giving myself permission to not want to do stuff. So that when everyone’s playing charades I can just quietly exercise my right to opt-out.

And part of that is recognizing which things push my buttons so I don’t have to regress into resentful eight-year-old mode and just run away when things are uncomfortable.

Part of that is remembering that it is my time (it always was) and that now is the time to take it.

The pirates have mastered the art of nothingness. Full nothingness, as Desmond calls it. I’m not there yet, and not planning on getting there.

Partly because of the whole “Crap! There is no there!” thing.

But also because watch out, I have more stuff to learn, and I’m going to take some time to learn it.

P.S. If I did play charades? I would totally make people act out “Charade“. Cary Grant is so so hot in that, and no one would ever guess. Suckers.

The Fluent Self