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.
Giving birth to a blog (oh, the pain)
Life before blog
There’s this funny thing that’s actually not funny at all that happens when you write a blog. You start writing posts in your head.
All the time.
It’s not you. No, no. Not you. It’s just that all sorts of semi-random concepts, incidents and overheard sentences start winking at you lasciviously with knowing come-hither smiles.
Or worse, they pout that if you don’t write a post about them, oh, they will be so sad.
Before you know it, you’re digging around in your bag for the cellphone you never use so you can Jott yourself six post ideas before they disappear into the ether..
Truth be told, I was blogging in my head for at least a year and a half before I launched this baby. Not exaggerating, unfortunately — I’ve got an illegibly scribbled mountain of forgotten genius to prove it.
Of course I wanted to be doing it not in my head. To put this stuff out there in real pixels. Here. With you. Like this*.
*Ohmygod, I’m doing it right now.
It’s just that I wasn’t entirely sure about a bunch of things … and it seemed like I ought to maybe wait until I was at least a tiny bit more sure about some of them. And so it kept getting pushed down to the bottom of the list.
But now …
Yeah, so now that I worked through some of my issues and am actually blogging it up in real life, it’s way more fun than I’d imagined.
But that’s not the point. The point is that now a bunch (does four count as a bunch?) of people have asked to hear my “Here’s how I got over the issues that were keeping me from blogging it up” story.
You know, in the hopes that it will inspire them to get their collective behinds in gear and all that. I’m actually not going to post about that right now. I will at some point, though. Try and stop me.
Right now what I’m hoping for is some assistance from you. If that’s cool.
It’s not that I don’t want to share my story, because it is fairly interesting and probably even useful. It’s more that a. it’s complicated, and b. the people who want to learn from my amusing tales of woe seem to have, for the most part, a very different list of what-ifs than what I was dealing with.
So let’s look at that list, shall we?
I’ve been collecting the big (and small) WHAT-IFs that keep people — some of whom are people who know that blogging was practically invented especially for them — from actually doing it. And what I want to do is address a few of these what-ifs in a series of posts.
So help me out, guys.
Here’s what I’ve got so far, off the top of my head. Well, and off the top of my inbox.
- “What if I get laughed off the internet? No one’s going to take me seriously.”
-
“What if the technology makes me feel stupid? I might not be able to handle the learning curve.”
- “What about the freaking time-time-time commitment? I just won’t have the time.”
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“What if I get trolled or harrassed by jerks? Or sued? Because that’s really what I need right now, anonymous heckling from the ether.”
- “What if it’s just winking in the dark and the other gazillion bloggers are already doing it better? There’s too much competition from ‘real bloggers’ and people who know what they’re doing.”
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“What if I don’t have anything original to say? There’s probably nothing new that I can add, anyway. ”
- “What if I start and stop and feel like a failure? It’s pointless to start something I can’t finish.”
- “What if my angle changes? My business is too flexible to define it with a blog.”
And there’s more where that came from.
But what I’d like to know is: what’s running through your head? Is it stuff like this? Other stuff? Is there stuff I haven’t even thought to start worrying about yet?
Where I’m going with this.
Here’s what I’m not going to do: Lecture you, tell you why you’re wrong and how your fears are irrelevant, and then say something like “Get moving!”
Because, as you may have noticed, this is not a tough love blog. It’s not about facing your fears or getting yanked out of your comfort zone or other annoyingly in-yer-face life-coach-ey things.
It’s about consciously paying attention to your “stuff”. So that you can figure out what your patterns are telling you. So that you can rewrite those patterns and do things differently. With patience, smart techniques and as much (but no more) kindness as you can stand to receive in any given moment.
So my plan is to take a measured, non-preachy look at why these anxieties/issues and other scary bits show up, why they’re so depressing (because they are), and then talk about some of the stuff we might want to try.
You know, a few handy techniques to help diffuse the scary and work around it. Or at the very least feel okay with it.
So … whaddya got? If you are thinking about maybe eventually getting around to considering blogging it up, what kinds of things are getting in the way? And if you have a blog, but had to work through a bunch of what-ifs to get there, share away as well.
Or if you don’t have any issues because you blog like a sailor (not sure what that means but it sounds good) but just have some helpful hints, that’s cool too.
May throw in a case study or too for the fun of it. We shall see.
Friday Round-up: a ritual is born
Most of you know that I’m pro-ritual. Big on rituals. Basically, the more the merrier.
Because they’re powerful and grounding and stuff. And because they gently nudge you towards having a more conscious interaction with time and how it passes.
Blame yoga, blame the Jews. I don’t know what the deal is. I just really enjoy the repetition of something, and having it be both familiar and new at the same time.
Anyway, Friday is my biggest ritual day because it’s the end of the workweek, and there’s the Jewish thing and that’s just how I do things.
There are the cleaning rituals and the bread baking rituals and the picking up books from the library rituals. There’s yoga and computer-back-up and master-minding it up with my friend Janet. And then meditation and candle-lighting. Fridays are intense.
But my favorite comforting Friday thing to do is Reviewing The Week That Was.
Perspective is trippy.
Sometimes when you Review The Week That Was, you realize you’ve totally left stuff out. And then you think, Oh boy, how did I repress that so ridiculously fast?
And other times it seems like a week that you thought went by in a flash was actually full. And not just full, but full of wonderfulness.
Or maybe a week that — at the initial moment of summing up — seemed like good times, actually had much more than its share of hard.
Anyway, taking that ten minutes or so to reflect is really one of my favorite things. I don’t mean this in a “Gee, what have we learned?” kind of way. It’s really more about noticing and observing and recognizing. And remembering. It’s useful.
What I’m getting at.
I thought it would be an interesting exercise for me to do some of my Reviewing The Week That Was here with you. To check in.
But out loud instead of just in my head.
And if it ends up being something that’s not horribly boring, maybe we’ll make that a wee little ritual of our own. Just tossing some of the hard stuff out there (in no particular order) followed by some of the good stuff.
Not some phony, forced “count your blessings” thing. Because yuck. But just noticing. Letting those “Good grief, what did happen this week, anyway?” moments dissolve. Letting little slivers of memory surface.
And if you want, you can do a little check-in too and report some of the good and/or hard moments of your own week. If you feel like it. You don’t have to.
As we say in the world of teaching workshops, you’re allowed to pass.
Okay, I’m heading into ritual territory here …. starting … now.
Some of the hard stuff ….
Healing can be slow.
I had a “let’s see where we are” meeting this week with my chiropractor. Haven’t made nearly as much improvement there as I’d hoped. Which is frustrating.
He tried to cheer me up by saying how flexible I am, and I was like, hello I’m a yoga professional.
I mean, a decade of daily stretching makes it easy to touch your toes the same way that being in Portland and having $1.75 in quarters makes it easy to catch public transportation to the Roller Derby.
But then during the treatment, listening to other people there moaning and grunting in pain, I realized, you know what? It’s still pretty great that my body is happy and pain-free. So not everything is in ideal alignment yet … but working on perspective.
Not being in Germany is weird.
Whenever I come back from my annual month of teaching in Berlin, I really just want to be in Berlin. Making peace with the fact that I’m actually not in Berlin has also become a kind of ritual for me. Right now still in the hard.
The world: it is full of pain sometimes.
A story I read about the life of Danielle, neglected child, is heart-wrenching. Neglect isn’t even the word for it. Ay. Awful.
She’s described as a “feral child” in this fascinating/depressing article from the St. Petersburg Times in Florida. Just that concept alone is pretty hard to take in.
It’s pretty inconceivable that stuff like this can happen, period. But right next door to real, live human beings who for whatever reason weren’t able to do something? With the knowledge of authorities who for whatever reason didn’t do something? Ugh.
The kindness and good-heartedness of the family who took her in — while I’m not crazy about their methods — is completely inspiring. I still kinda wish I hadn’t read this though. So much pain.
Some of the good stuff ….
I won a thing!
Getting the weird-and-cool “successful and outstanding blog” award thing from Liz Strauss, and thereby getting acquainted in a “Hi!” sort of way with Liz Strauss and some other fun people: neat.
Still amazing, after all these years…
A dear friend from junior high school days found me on Facebook and we’ve been catching the heck up.
There’s some hard in this too. It’s hard knowing that I haven’t always been there for her. It’s hard knowing that one of the hands-down smartest, most talented people I’ve ever met has been bowled over by so many challenges that she hasn’t yet found a way to use those gifts.
But anything hard there is softened by how completely blissful it is to be back in her life, sharing her thoughts and words. Amazing.
Speaking of friends …
I’ve been hanging out a bit online with Emma McCreary aka @CheekyBoots if you’re a Twitterite. We know each other from both Twitter and Biznik. Yay, internets!
And this week she wrote a sweet, thoughtful post asking whether we really need to be aggressive to get sales — which was inspired by my sleaze-non-sleaze kosher-marketing continuum post. Yay, exchange of ideas!
Actually, I’ll get to meet her in person this Wednesday and am completely psyched. Yay, new friends! And for the record, she also has a duck. We could, like, have a playdate for our ducks. Don’t tell Selma I said that. She’ll freak out.
The way to my heart: through my stomach.
My gentleman friend — who as it is cooks up a storm of deliciousness for me every single day — made an especially mind-blowingly, neuron-meltingly tingle-worthy ratatouille. I may (finally, he says) have to marry him.
Life is beautiful.
If you really want a dose of pure joy, take a look at this.
My friend Myra Klarman, a seriously great photographer, spent an afternoon taking pictures of Suzie. Suzie got a “Make A Wish” chance to be a frog-charming princess, rather than the kid with leukemia. She’s doing better, gott sei dank.
Seriously, go look at these gorgeous and charming pictures (bonus: volunteer frog). They will make you so, so happy to be alive.
That’s it for me ….
You’re totally welcome to join in my Friday ritual if you feel like it and/or there’s something you just want to say out loud too.
Happy weekend. Happy week to come.
Kosher marketing — it’s not what you think
So … to give you some background for why we’re talking kosher and marketing and the combination of kosher and marketing on my habits blog of all places:
All my clients and students work on rewriting their patterns and habits, but most of them are dealing with patterns and habits related to the specific issue of biggification.
You know, biggifying themselves. Putting themselves out there. Growing that cool thing they do or that cool thing they want to start doing.
Without feeling like a sleazeball. Or being a sleazeball.
And that’s important, because fear of the sleaze plays a big role in your stuckification patterns (and of course, in mine too).
You know how it is.
There’s fear that you’ll have to start “selling yourself’ and it will be gross. Fear that you’ll lose yourself and become one of those sales-ey “but wait — there’s more!” types. Fear that you will begin to sink into the deep, dark pit of sleaze.
Or that you won’t, but then — (and here the what-ifs kick in) — you won’t make any money.
I promise to write a post or three about why you’ve got more choices than either:
- Having integrity and not being able to make rent.
- Becoming a slimy marketer and making piles of the monies while avoiding mirrors so as not be faced with your black, black soul staring back at you.
But that’s for another day. Today I want to talk about kashrut (the practice of keeping kosher) and how it relates to the bigger picture of marketing products and services.
And yeah, there is a point and it’s a good one. And it might shed some light on some other dusty, rusty links in your personal biggification issues pattern chain. Because hey, wouldn’t that be awesome.
The great continuum (or: everyone but you is an ass)
You might not know this, but I grew up in a kosher home.
If you don’t know from kosher (and if you don’t, the formulation of the first half of this sentence is probably a little weird too), let me explain.
Keeping kosher refers to the entire package of lifestyle choices that revolve around preparing and serving food in accordance with the fantastically complicated Jewish dietary laws and traditions.
How exactly people practice this and choose to interpret said complicated laws and traditions varies radically.
Take my parents, for example. They’re hardcore. They separate milk and meat, um, religiously, have a gazillion sets of silverware, and can quote you all sorts of obscure Talmudic texts about rules no one has ever heard of.
And when I was a kid, as far as I was concerned, there was no need to question our way of keeping kosher because obviously it was the one and only way to keep kosher.
The way we did it was simply the way it was done.
As for those people who wouldn’t dream of letting a non-kosher crumb into their home but would still have a cheeseburger at McDonalds? Heretics!
And my father’s super-religious sister and her family who take kashrut to such extremes that they refuse to eat in our full-on talmud-quoting kosher-ass house? Fanatics!
That’s just the way of kosher.
Anyone more strict than you is a mindless kosher-er than thou (I just it made that up) religious maniac obsessing over mischigas.
Anyone less strict than you are is a lazy, sloppy imbecile who doesn’t love his mother.
Because clearly your way is the reasonable, sensible right way — and everyone else is just doing it wrong.
Bringing it back to sleaze-free marketing.
Marketing — especially online — is a lot like that kosher continuum.
That ever-present voice in your head tells you that that people who push harder than you (or at all) are shameless, manipulative, highlighter-wielding self-promoting sleazeballs.
And the people who do less than you … well, they’re obviously just over-sensitive wallflowers who don’t know the first thing about promoting things.
Basically, no matter what you do (or don’t do, as the case may be), I can guarantee the following two scenarios:
-
- 1. There are going to be people who will think your marketing style is too aggressive, and others who will think it’s too subtle, and all of them will tell you that you’re doing it wrong.
- 2. You will be interacting with other people whose too-aggressive or too-subtle marketing style will really get on your own nerves, and you’ll be tempted to tell them that they’re doing it wrong.
This can end up with you being paralyzed with worry, and not wanting to do anything.
Uh oh. It’s easy to get stuck wondering whether you’re doing too much or too little, but you gotta do something because people need to know about you.
Now I’m guessing this might a problem for some of you because (making an assumption here) marketing makes you uncomfortable. And yet (making another assumption) you’re a helper-mouse, and helping people is part of your mission on this planet.
So yeah, you’re going to have to learn how to put that mission out there so the people who truly need you can find you …
But I also get that this can be hard and scary, because hey, I’ve been in that process myself and am still in it to some degree.
Right. So if you’re ever going to feel comfortable shining your light so that your “right people” know where you are, here are a couple of important points that might help you think a little differently about how to approach this thing.
Important point #1: Embrace the continuum.
It’s all about the continuum. It’s all freaking relative. Even though people will just assume that their own way is the best one, there is no one right way. The number of individual “right ways” is infinite.
There will always be people who are more X than you or less Y than you, and that’s fine. Find the place that feels right and comfortable for you.
Important point #2: Life is change, my friend.
Nothing is written in stone, and that includes your place on the sleaze-non-sleaze-continuum. Get used to the idea that movement will happen. Flow with it.
I used to say that I’d never have a sales page. Now I do sales pages. I used to say that I’d never do one of those pages with a sales-y blue border. Well … it’s a soft, gentle, calm blue but what can I say, it’s undeniably blue.
It’s not that I always go in the direction of louder and more aggressive — I often pull back too. It’s more like waves, ebbing and flowing.
The point is though, that I’m always pausing to take my temperature. My goal is to help the people who need me, and it’s my job to do that from the place I feel most comfortable. Where exactly that is can change — and I’m getting used to that.
Which leads me to Important point #3 ….
Important point #3: It’s all about trust.
I know myself pretty darn well. I know that no matter what I do, it will be based on an intelligent, informed decision that will come from a combination of checking in with heart and head.
It’s this trust that lets me experiment and play with marketing techniques, knowing that a. I will never, ever screw anyone over, b. I will live according to my values and c. I will never become that person.
It’s this trust that lets me know that, even as my spot on the continuum changes, I’m still not going to use highlighters or screaming mile-high red headlines to make a point. And it’s this trust that lets me know I’ll never intentionally use emotional manipulation to make a sale.
I know myself and my marketing style, but mostly I know how to be true to myself. But I didn’t always know this. I’ve had to remind myself over and over again of this ability to stay with my truth, while asking my heart what it needs.
Learning to trust yourself is an ongoing practice, and it’s a valuable one, so jump in.
Important point #4: Take all criticism with a grain of (kosher) salt
Self-reflection has its place (no kidding), but it’s also important to remember that sometimes when other people’s criticism shows up, it’s not actually about you.
No matter what your marketing looks like, no matter what words you use to tell people about your show or your offer or whatever, there will always be people who’ll think you’re doing it wrong.
More specifically, there will always be people who think you’re being a sleaze and others who think you’re not being vocal enough.
That’s their stuff, not yours. That’s their personal style of kosher, not yours.
Your job is to work on your stuff. To figure out what’s kosher for you. And then to live by it. And to practice feeling okay with it.
Now go apply this stuff.
Uh huh.
Figure out what’s kosher for you and why, and then see if you can stop second-guessing yourself for five minutes. Just to find out what that would feel like.
How kosher is kosher enough? That question always has to be “How kosher is kosher enough for you right now? And you’re the one who gets to decide how to answer that, based on what the world looks like from your vantage point on the marketing kosherness ladder.
And since I’m a curious-mouse … can I ask?
When you reflect on the thing you’re trying to promote, and your spot on the sleaze-non-sleaze kosher marketing continuum, what does it look like from where you are right now?
5 ways to fix non-physical pain
Taking care of yourself when no one else will
While I was teaching in Germany this summer, I got to spend some time with an old friend of mine there. He’s going through some intense heartbroken misery right now, so that was pretty much all we talked about.
Anyone who’s ever been dumped and can’t figure out why knows how truly awful this is — and my friend has got it bad. It’s a serious case of the broken hearted blues.
And it’s been going on since February, which is a loooong time.
Anyway, it was obvious that he was a mess. And so, after we’d talked about it and processed for a few hours, I had to ask, “Honey, what are you doing to treat it?”
That was the point where he gave me the “now you’re being crazy” look. “It’s not like it’s a sickness“, he said.
Well, of course it’s a sickness. If you can’t eat and you can’t sleep and you’re driven to distraction by the (emotional) pain, it’s a sickness.
A heart sickness.
When you need to jumpstart the healing process …
If your body is telling you that it needs attention, you give it attention. Same goes for your heart. Lovesickness is just one of many, many kinds of sickness.
And when you’re sick, feeling bad, or when it just seems like something isn’t in flow, you’ve got to do something to let your body/mind know, “Hey, I’ve got your back!”
Let me toss a concept at you.
Whenever I’m working on something, I come at it from five different levels.
The big five are:
- Physical
- Energy
- Emotional
- Mental
- Awareness (or “spiritual”, but only if you’re into that kind of thing).
This five-levels thing is a concept I grabbed from yoga philosophy, and it’s really useful. Because if you work on all five levels at the same time, something’s gotta give.
The thing you’re dealing with could be a physical issue or an emotional issue, a combination or something else entirely — when you apply this concept, it doesn’t actually matter what specifically you’re working on.
It’s always helpful to combine work on all five levels (what we call “multi-directional work).
Anyway, here are some things (using these various levels) that my friend could do for his heart to start making peace with the pain. And you guys are smart so I know you’ll figure out how to apply this stuff to whatever you’re working on too.
If you still need some help, you’ll send me an email and I’ll give you some suggestions in an Ask Havi column.
Where do you even begin?
I’m just going to toss out a few things for each level. Since I could easily wear out my keyboard listing techniques (wait, it’s already worn out), we’ll just stick to the basics here.
On the Physical level:
Movement is good. Walking, biking, swimming. Yoga.
Note: if you’re using yoga for heartache, I would recommend starting with an energetic, physical, flowing type of yoga class, not a gentle, quiet, turning-inward class. You need to burn some pain first.
Unless you’ve been yoga-ing it up for a long time, in which case just do the kind that your body is asking for.
Also, physical level means giving yourself basic TLC …
Put yourself to bed at a reasonable hour. Give yourself naps. Feed yourself with love — and healthy food. You’re in recuperation mode — your body needs to recover.
On the Energy level:
There are a ton of energy techniques, but for heartache? Acupuncture, baby. Go get poked. Trust me, you’ll feel better.
There are acupuncturists out there who specialize in broken hearts and emotional pain, but really, any good acupuncturist can help you out here. Ask around for recommendations. Poking is kind of like therapy — you’d be amazed how many people already do it and don’t talk about it.
While you’re waiting on your acupuncture appointment, you can download this acupressure worksheet (PDF) to practice on yourself with. Wacky? Yeah. But what do you care? You’re in pain. Try it.
On the Emotional level:
Talk to friends. Sing in the shower. Draw your pain. Write about your pain. Cry. Give yourself permission to fall apart.
Give your pain legitimacy, while still reminding yourself that it’s temporary and does not actually define you.
If you own my Emergency Calming Techniques package, listen to the recordings. They will be super helpful for this (and they also work on the other levels).
On the Mental/Intellectual level:
Journaling. But not just writing out your pain. This time you’re looking for the patterns.
For example, what does this situation remind you of? When was the last time you had this feeling? What might have triggered this reaction? Where is the pain located in your body?
If you’re not seeing the patterns, doing ten minutes of Shiva Nata (my yoga brain training obsession) is a good way to clear your mind and start finding connections everywhere. (Warning: everywhere).
On the Awareness level:
If you’re deep in pain (whether physical, emotional or whatever), it’s probably going to be hard to concentrate long enough to do silent meditation.
But there’s yoga nidra (guided relaxation), or heart-based meditations (chanting, singing, repeating reassuring phrases).
Anything you can do to get just the tiniest bit of distance or separation from your pain in order to learn from it and give yourself some love … always good.
Don’t force the love …. just give yourself as much as you can stand to receive right now.
Got it?
Not to go all tough love on you, but you have a responsibility to take care of yourself. You have to take care of your illness or your hurt or whatever it is that you’re going through right now.
It’s not about fixing or curing it. It’s just about committing to a process of giving conscious attention to working through the hard so you can start getting better. It’s about making room for stuff to shift and move.
Just because it’s not something that can be detected with a stethoscope or an MRI … so what? It’s real.
Take your pain seriously. Treat it with respect.
And then start taking steps to do something to be with it, understand it and help it heal. Because that’s what you do.
So … what are you going to start with?
Does your home office need TLC and awesomeness?
My new-ish friend Jennifer Hofmann (who bowled me over with awesomeness two minutes after we met back in March) is pretty unbelievably great.
For one thing, I’m in love with her business, Inspired Home Office, which is one of those “hi, I’m a real, live human being”-style businesses (I approve!).
[You now have Betty Boop’s “Be Human” song stuck in your head again, right?]
Also, she totally thinks like me when it comes to self-work (i.e. that it works better when you do it mindfully and without beating yourself up with bunch of guilt).
AND — even though she’s an organizer-ey person which is generally something I associate with deadly boringness — she actually approves of my piles of papers. Of yours too. She thinks it’s a sign that we’re creative. Oh, that wonderful woman!
Not that she doesn’t have cool ways to shrink those piles, because she does. It’s just that her way of doing things is blissfully unconventional and refreshing.
This very great thing I need to tell you about: it is so very great.
All this to say that this Wednesday Jen is doing this very cool thing that I completely love.
She calls it Office Spa Day and the idea is you spend two hours a. giving your home office some serious TLC, and b. getting guidance on how to do that without going mental.
I did it a couple months ago and it rocked.
Even though I was sure the thing I was personally dealing with was way too big to do anything about in two hours. And even though I wasn’t sure I’d even be able to carve out two whole hours to begin with.
Also, it’s cool to be an emotional wreck and bring all your stucknesses. Jen can handle it, and she’ll make you feel right at home.
So: next one is this Wednesday, August 6th, at 10:00 am PST.
It’s $46 to take part in it and I have to say, based on my own experience and results: completely reasonable. She could double it and I’d still do it.
So, yeah. I’ll be there. And if it sounds like something you might be needing too, take a look at Jen’s awesome, awesome Home Business Spa Day … and maybe I’ll see you there too.
And no, I’m not getting anything from Jen for sending you her way.
Though on second thought I bet she’ll give me an extra-big hug next time I see her. Totally worth it!