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.
Talking truth to fear
A few years ago I took a course with some semi-famous biggified chick on getting over the fear of cold calling.
To be honest, I could not care less about cold calling. I was there for the fear.
Cold calling just isn’t really my style. And at this point in my business (gott sei dank), more people want to hire me than I care to work with.
So even if cold calling weren’t completely terrifying, the likelihood of me ever doing it … not so high. Actually? I pretty much don’t call anyone ever*.
*Which reminds me to go pick up the phone right this second before my mother pokes her head over here to “see what you’re doing on that blogsite of yours”.
Anyway, I didn’t want help with cold calls. What interested me, as someone who works with people on their stuck fear patterns all the time, was the techniques or insights she’d share for working through the fear.
I figured maybe I’d pick up a new cool thing to add to the repertoire. No.
You know what she said?
“Beyond fear is freedom.”
Your advice: it isn’t helpful.
I’m not even kidding. That was her whole thing. Beyond fear is freedom.
She put it out there, paused for dramatic effect to let this pearl of wisdom sink in and then repeated it about seventeen times.
It’s a good thing we were on mute or a hundred people would have heard me go, “Oh, puhleeeeeeeeeeeeeeze.”
Okay, so beyond fear is freedom. That is true, yes.
It’s just that the truth of it is overshadowed by the fact that it’s a completely idiotic thing to say.
Well, let’s be fair. It’s equal parts true and stupid. True in that, “yes, that is what happens when you move past a fear.” Stupid in that, “hey, that is the most useless piece of advice ever.”
Even worse, that was pretty much the sum total of her advice. That if you just knew that once you got past the fear there would be freedom, you’d hurry up and do it already. Oh, and that you should just push through the fear like you’re a great big bulldozer.
A big, dumb, mean machine. Lovely.
To have fear is to be human.
Here’s the thing about fear. It is natural and normal. It’s a part of being alive. Fear and trepidation are going to show up all the time and in a lot of places. In the news. In your body. In your relationships.
Sometimes this fear is going to be based on things — or the possibility of things — that pretty much everyone would acknowledge to be legitimately, genuinely scary. Terrorism. Violence. Illness. Tragedy.
Sometimes this fear is going to slip quietly in to your unconscious mind and apply itself to things less obviously rational.
Like alektorophobia (fear of chickens). Or — if you’re Adrian Monk — fear of milk. Or — if you just got a weird feeling from the way I just juxtaposed those two fears — fear of things that aren’t kosher. Sorry about that.
Of course you can take conscious, intentional steps to work with your fear, dissolve your fear and get to know your fear — so you can distance yourself from it and heal it.
That’s part of life too. Maybe even the most important part.
But it’s interaction with your fear that is going to bring you into the place where talking about freedom is even relevant.
The interaction with your fear. Not the bulldozing through it or the stomping on it. And certainly not the knowledge that the freedom is there waiting for you to find it.
The myth of fear.
The myth of fear is that you’re supposed to overcome it or conquer it.
The truth about fear is that if you learn to talk to it and treat it with respect, it will teach you how not to be afraid.
Yes, it can be horrible and crippling and awful.
Trust me on this one. I know fear pretty well. I know the kind that causes full-body trembling and awful heart palpitations. And the kind that makes you think demons are flying at you through the windows. And the kind that has you sobbing and writhing on the floor.
Fear can be debilitating. So I don’t mean to be going off on some annoying spiritual kick about how it’s good for you or something. It’s just that you don’t want to battle it.
And not just because battling it makes the fear stronger (it does), but because — when you talk to it — your fear is the best teacher you will ever have.
As you might imagine, people come to me all the time wanting to know how to give their fears a good kick in the pants. And we always, always, always get through the fear together and back to the calm.
But we don’t do kicking.
Of course kicking sounds like more fun, and of course you want to do it. Good grief, I want to do it. I seriously wish it worked like that sometimes.
It doesn’t work like that.
Here is how it does work.
Your fear is a part of you. So kicking it is like kicking yourself.
You created it. Almost like kicking something you gave birth to.
You created it for a reason. It’s useful to find out what that is.
To protect you from stuff that is dangerous and bad for you. That’s a very legitimate reason.
Right now this protection mechanism isn’t working. Because this fear is paralyzing you instead of protecting you.
It’s not working because your fear — aka your desire to keep yourself safe — is preventing you from moving forward on the things you truly want to do. Exactly.
Instead of kicking fear, you can dissolve it. It can kick back, but it can’t dissolve *you*.
The only way to get the fear to dissolve is to interact with it. Just like you, it wants to be noticed and cared for.
Your fear needs to know that you are taking steps to keep yourself safe. So give it some reassurance.
Talking to your fear.
Think of it this way. Your fear is like a knight. It has a mission or a quest or whatever to keep you safe from failure and humiliation and things going horribly, horribly wrong.
So it keeps you from working on the thing you want to do. It shows up again and again, with worry and doubt and what-iffery.
A misguided strategy, yes. But well-intended. Annoyingly well-intended.
If you want your fear to stop scaring you silly, you’re going to need to reassure it that its mission has not been in vain.
In fact, you can tell your fear that you’re going to release it from its quest and take over the mission of looking out for your own well-being.
Talking to your fear is a great way to achieve distance from it. When you’re talking to your fear, it isn’t you anymore. It’s just a temporary part of you. You contain it, but you contain a lot of things.
This distance, paradoxically, allows you to befriend it.
Befriending it, paradoxically, allows it to become something else.
I know. Argh, stupid paradox. Is it scary to talk to your fear? To even acknowledge its shadowy presence in the room? Absolutely. I’m sorry. Hug.
Three ways to work with fear.
Obviously this stuff is part of a life-long process of working on your stuff. No “three tips” or “five tricks” are going to heal a lifetime of hurt. It’s just more stuff to use in your practice.
But hey, it’s better than being egged on with “beyond fear is freedom”, right?
So here you go. Three things I do to work with fear to achieve the distance that ultimately allows me to get closer to myself — the part of myself that isn’t living in fear.
1. Turning your fear into a duck.
Yes, this is a little odd. I pretend that I my fears have been turned into ducks. That they’re little wooden ducks that follow me on a string.
And then I turn around and say, “Oh, are you guys still there?”
2. Using “even though” sentences.
Even though I have this fear, I’m getting better at noticing when it’s showing up. Even though I want to kick it, I’m reminding myself that it’s a part of me and that it won’t be around forever.
The “even thoughs” acknowledge the fear and give it legitimacy, while still allowing you to introduce new ideas and new energy into the mix.
3. Reminding yourself about the quest.
If your fear is a stout knight sworn to defend you from harm, you’re the knight’s best friend who’s like, “Dude, the war is over. It’s time for you to go home and court Guinevere.”
You want to be constantly, lovingly reassuring the fear that some other part of you can this role of protector now and that you’re going to make sure that everything gets taken care of.
So — that’s the sum of my wisdom today.
Your fear is normal. Your fear is legitimate. Your fear is talking to you. Find out what you need to know.
Much love to you.
Tripping. Or: the thing you need most right now.
I have to tell you a story.
All true. It’s about the second-worst summer of my life.
And to understand the second-worst summer of my life you really have to understand the week or so preceding it.
Bad things come in threes?
I was 19. Living in Tel Aviv. Studying history at the University.
And though my life wasn’t exactly filled with joyful Disneyesque prancing in the forest, surrounded by obscenely cheerful birds, things were good.
You know how it is. It’s life. It works.
Most of the time. I had friends I liked, a new-ish boyfriend who was cute and sweet and funny. Having finally adjusted from the culture shock after a couple years in the Middle East, I was even enjoying my studies.
What happened next hit so quickly that I still feel a little startled blink of shock just thinking about it.
My roommate (my best friend in the country at the time) picked up and moved to London. All my other friends suddenly announced they were going to do a year abroad in Australia or India or something. All of them.
Then the boyfriend dumped me. Abruptly. And I’d always been the dump-er, never the dumpee, so it was a total shocker of a shoe on the other foot moment.
This woman who was basically a mix between adoptive mother and loving mentor to me got sick suddenly and died. I got kicked out of where I was living. And fired from my waitressing job.
The phrase “bad things come in threes” was starting to seem somewhat absurd.
Within about a week and a half, I was completely alone. With nothing. And stunned. Too stunned to even fully realize how devastated I was.
Salvation comes in weird ways.
My aunt and uncle took me in (for which I am forever grateful), and I stayed in my cousin Michal’s tiny closet of a room with all my stuff piled up in plastic bags. And I waited.
It wasn’t clear what I was waiting for, but some part of me knew I’d pull through it eventually.
Now, in hindsight, I’d describe what happened to me as depression. Nearly catatonic depression. Now, in hindsight, it’s obvious to me that this was a hard-core defense mechanism kicking in to keep me from falling apart completely.
In hindsight things make a lot of sense.
At the time, though, I was too much in shock to be able to process any of it. I spent three months doing nothing. By which I mean alternating between smoking, sleeping and watching TV.
Some other time I’ll write about how I got through this experience, how I healed, or how this experience was in many ways the catalyst for the work we do here now.
But today I want to tell you about the books.
Bonk bonk bonk!
My cousin Michal — the one whose room I was hibernating in — was in India at the time, getting her PhD in Sanskrit (because she’s cool like that) and she kept sending back books. Stacks of them.
Big stacks of books, tied together with string.
Some were large and some were small and they were almost all about yoga.
This was before I had anything to do with yoga. Their existence on my floor wasn’t interesting to me, or meaningful, or anything. They were just stuff to trip over.
These books had names like Heal Your Pain Through Yoga and Solve All Your Problems With Yoga and (I may be exaggerating here) Hey, Moron, Use Yoga To Make Your Life Better When Everything is Going Horribly, Horribly Wrong.
And I was tripping over them.
Bonk bonk bonk.
I didn’t pay any attention. I didn’t even open any of the books. Mostly I resented them for taking up space in this already tiny, already cluttered room.
I was literally (and figuratively) tripping over the thing that could have helped me the most. And cursing it for being in the way.
Salvation comes in weird ways …
No regrets, no complaints … everything unfolded when it needed to, and I did end up finding yoga at the time in my life when it was right for me. Much later. And it was the thing I that helped me.
It brought me back to myself at a time when I was divorced, bitter and hurting.
Yoga was also the one thing that kept me sane and healthy during the summer that actually did turn out to be the worst summer of my life. The one that made the second-worst summer of my life seem like a relaxed island holiday.
I like a juicy piece of irony as much as the next person, so I’ve had some good belly laughs over the absurdity of this moment. In fact, I like to imagine how tiresome it must have been for the universe to keep bonking me over the head like that — with no reactions at all.
You know, I pretend there were wacky spirits discussing my situation and saying things like, “Could she be any more obtuse? We really can’t make it any more obvious than this. What’s a wacky spirit gotta do …. write a message on the wall in blood? You want a burning freaking bush?!”
Because that would be funny.
It is funny. I mean, the symbolism was so in-your-face that it could have been a film student’s first production. It’s a white dove: it means peace. Here, let’s fly it across the screen six more times so you’ll understand what it means when it gets shot down!
Bonk bonk bonk.
And, by the way, it’s not so important how you understand this story. You can read it any way you like and take from it anything you like. Because whether it’s about the bonking of a higher power or just the occasionally amusing ironies of life, the lesson is pretty much the same.
Bonk bonk bonk.
The past is the past. What are you learning right this second?
It doesn’t really matter that I didn’t get the message. It doesn’t matter that I was in resistance to receiving help in any form. Apparently I wasn’t ready. I’m ready now, though.
So the real question is: what books am I tripping over now?
In fact, I often wonder about the following scenario.
It’s a few years into the future and I’m telling a friend (maybe even you) about right now. September 2008.
And I’m saying “This is so crazy. The thing I needed the most was right there in front of me. The most obvious thing in the world. It was right there and I couldn’t see it.”
And then we laugh and laugh and laugh.
Because I’m pretty sure we’re tripping over stacks of books all the time. I’m pretty sure that everything you need to know is inside of you right now and that it’s showing up right now.
Whether it’s helpful little fairies poking you with symbolism sticks, or just someone quietly telling you what you need to hear at the right juncture of space and time … maybe what you need to understand is right in front of you.
Maybe it’s even the thing you’re tripping over.
Making a wish.
I’m not going to give you a bunch of cliches about how everything is for the best. Because No one wants to hear that when they’re hurting, and who knows if it’s even true.
And I’m certainly not going to tell you that the thing that’s causing you hurt and pain is going to be the thing that helps you later. That’s just not a compassionate thing to say.
What I do want to say is this: It’s a useful and helpful practice, sometimes, to just pause and notice what’s there. Get a millimeter or two of distance from the hurt.
For example, I can stop and say, “hey, I’m willing and ready to learn what I need to learn in this moment … in the least painful way possible.”
Or: “Even though I’m probably not seeing or hearing or picking up on whatever it is I need to know, I’m ready for that information to be revealed to me.”
Or whatever. Phrase it however you like. Find a way of asking yourself for permission to stop tripping and to start receiving help. Because maybe it’s right there.
That’s what I wish for you. And also for me.
Topless marketing and why you might be wrong
The 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
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
Because 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 stalkerI 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.
Okay, 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!