Thanks Tommy. For anyone who makes it to see this comment, do yourself a favor and check out Tommy's writing, who is also illuminating the miracles in our midst.
You have a way with words Rick!! I haven't teared up at a newsletter in a while! (Math is not a skill you have, but is part of your soul....not me, but a dear friend recently opened up to me about that. It blew my mind. And made me love her more. And I suppose is really what this is all about.)
I have these two women, one a client, who are in my life. They're both authors, both had traumatic midlife divorces. Their books are about their recovery from those situations, but I have to admit, they are both very scared to share their story due to fear of ruining their family, their children, and seeming critical. I get it. But their stories need to be shared...that's the only way other women in isolation hearing their stories can heal. What advice would you give to them Rick? Maybe just give it time? Thank you. And just subscribed!
Thanks Renee for the kind words. I was looking at your note on your profile about commenting as a connection practice and it's totally the way to go. I've been doing a lot of that the last year and have formed some great connections/friendships this way, and yes, I do think it drives more subscribers. So cool you have a math empath as a friend. I only met once person like this long ago, but the example came up because she made such an impression on me with her love of numbers. Re your clients who are authors and divorced . . . dang, that is a tricky one. Of course, you want to encourage anyone to share their authentic story, but . . . and I almost hesitate to wade into these waters, if one's story is going to drag somebody down, it's worth questioning whether you've really got the whole story yet. Speaking from some experience, I had a first marriage, and I how I characterized that first relationship when it concluded was very different than how I've spoken about ten years later. Frankly, looking back I was missing chunks of the story, most notably self-awareness of my own part. This is not to say that people don't do shitty things and calling a spade a spade can help you move forward and all, but flags are going up for me here. I don't think truth ruins families and children. But bitterness, resentment, and anger sure can. Don't know if that helps, and I don't know the particulars, so could be way off base in relationship to the real situation, but that's just my hit on it from a distance.
Thank you Rick. Indeed, I've noticed how time can transform our bitterness into a different awareness. One lady is starting to open up about it more, but she's been doing a lot of healing work on her own.
...astounding your energy and drive dude...impressive every single week...also what an anecdote kid rick already ready for the stage...bravo...i love the prompt hidden(ish) in here to find our story in our origin of inspiration...really thought provoking and will have to take on a run with me and consider that moment(s) of muse...excited to see what you are building on top of all that you already built...rockstar man...
Your support means a lot to me CansaFis. In your case I'd be particularly interested in those early moments of muse. I can't wait to share what's coming in the next couple of weeks. I think you're going to like it.
...i'm in brother...and you and i know the overlap per our conversation 18 months ago...stoked that beings of being can have such gracious moments of knowing each other in their build moments...righteous to see your launch...
I can easily pinpoint to the origin story of my own love of theatre. And then I can pinpoint when it became waaaay less important than other stuff. Probably better for the balance of things -- I suspect my kiddo would develop a lot of psych issues if mama kept dumping time with him to go work a show -- but it's almost like two origin stories. One of career passion and one of becoming a mom.
Also -- maaan, that somnambulant state is quite something. So pervasive, so invasive...
Loved this, Rick. You summed up so well what characterizes the saddest moments of my day when I allow them to happen:
"It happens to all of us. We enter a somnambulant state that we’re often not aware has taken us over. Our assumptions, chronic worries, and old grooves do the navigating of our lives. Before we know it, we’ve driven the whole way to work or back from the store and can’t remember doing it.
This is not life."
You are right. That is closer to death than life. Thanks for nudging me to wake from my somnambulant state next time I slip into one.
This surprises me. My impression from your writing is that you are highly disciplined about your attention, where it goes, and the actions that you take. I identify with the commitment you have to your discipline and it sure doesn't look sleepy. I mean there are different versions of automatic habits. It took me a long time to see my own constant vigilance as just a prettier version of autopilot mode. Is that what you're talking about, or am I misinterpreting? In any case, I'm grateful to be in conversation with you about such things. (Still working with the sugar fast thanks to you.)
I think I’m my own biggest critic and I’m certainly far from perfect. So what might look like commitment, focus, and discipline from the outside, I still see all the gaps where I’m not at my best. When I’m stressed or anxious and have to walk back to check if I locked my door because my mind is full of thoughts. Or when I do the disciplined thing — as I did today, going out for a tough interval run in wind and rain — and judge myself after questioning if I could have pushed harder, dug deeper.
Constant vigilance may be a good way to put it. I am aware of my imperfections and I don’t let go of them easily all of the time.
Makes me so happy you have joined me on the no sugar challenge. I’m still going strong too!
I confess to granting myself small celebratory treats during family events, but I've managed to eliminate most other personal indulgences. It feels very good. I used to be that person who would be fanatically strict and sit out dessert that was being shared at a gathering, but over a long time of doing that I finally felt that an absolute adherence to my practice wasn't worth the mood it injected into the family atmosphere. We all have to find our way with these things I guess.
Absolutely, Rick. It's not about being perfect -- whatever that means. But through pursuing this challenge you've eliminated other indulgences, as have I. You found a way that works for you, and that's what matters. And it makes me so happy to be a fly on the wall for it :)
You and I have talked about origin stories before, and I keep returning to this one question; is it good or bad to have more than 1 origin story?
On one hand, you have a variety of stories that you can use in different settings. On the other, the origin story is supposed to be powerful, and it probably gets its power from its singularity. By having more, you're probably diluting it....
That's a really good question Ishan. An origin story describes the life experience you've had that demonstrates why you're the right person to lead a conversation on a particular topic. I talk about how my experience posing as a bad waiter provided a wealth of observational experience about what people habitually do in challenging circumstances. I wrote a book on the topic after overfilling 150,000 water glasses and watching the human reactions. That primes the audience to listen to what I have to say. I have many other stories from my years as a speaker and entertainer that describe the origin of my understanding about principles of leadership, teamwork, innovation, etc. These are actual life experiences that taught me something about these subjects that I can share with others. Speaking usefully to an audience is a matter of being clear about the experiences that gave you wisdom and being able to share those experiences in a compelling way. You might tell a handful of "origin stories" in the course of a keynote that demonstrate the origin of your motivation to serve and your suitability to lead the conversation on a particular topic. But out of all those stories, there is one story that those who have listened to you speak will most repeat. It's your most compelling, sticky, repeatable story. And you won't know what that is until you get the feedback from you audiences. So you can, and should, have as many stories as possible that communicate the origin of wisdom you have gained. But over time your audience will reflect back to you what stories or story is most memorable to them, and as that becomes clear, you can make it more central to your presentations.
Rick, such a fabulous piece, story, and call to action. I could hear YOU, your voice, your unique tone, throughout as you drew us in and then inspired us to draw ourselves out.
This was so beautiful: A miracle can be a worldly occurrence that punches a hole in our waking dream and fills us with so much wonder we temporarily lose track of who we’re at odds with, how much it’s going to cost to fix the oil leak on our car, and the argument we use to convince ourselves we have nothing special to contribute in the world.”
Love it Rick! What an opening hook too (: line and sinker
Thanks Tommy. For anyone who makes it to see this comment, do yourself a favor and check out Tommy's writing, who is also illuminating the miracles in our midst.
You have a way with words Rick!! I haven't teared up at a newsletter in a while! (Math is not a skill you have, but is part of your soul....not me, but a dear friend recently opened up to me about that. It blew my mind. And made me love her more. And I suppose is really what this is all about.)
I have these two women, one a client, who are in my life. They're both authors, both had traumatic midlife divorces. Their books are about their recovery from those situations, but I have to admit, they are both very scared to share their story due to fear of ruining their family, their children, and seeming critical. I get it. But their stories need to be shared...that's the only way other women in isolation hearing their stories can heal. What advice would you give to them Rick? Maybe just give it time? Thank you. And just subscribed!
Thanks Renee for the kind words. I was looking at your note on your profile about commenting as a connection practice and it's totally the way to go. I've been doing a lot of that the last year and have formed some great connections/friendships this way, and yes, I do think it drives more subscribers. So cool you have a math empath as a friend. I only met once person like this long ago, but the example came up because she made such an impression on me with her love of numbers. Re your clients who are authors and divorced . . . dang, that is a tricky one. Of course, you want to encourage anyone to share their authentic story, but . . . and I almost hesitate to wade into these waters, if one's story is going to drag somebody down, it's worth questioning whether you've really got the whole story yet. Speaking from some experience, I had a first marriage, and I how I characterized that first relationship when it concluded was very different than how I've spoken about ten years later. Frankly, looking back I was missing chunks of the story, most notably self-awareness of my own part. This is not to say that people don't do shitty things and calling a spade a spade can help you move forward and all, but flags are going up for me here. I don't think truth ruins families and children. But bitterness, resentment, and anger sure can. Don't know if that helps, and I don't know the particulars, so could be way off base in relationship to the real situation, but that's just my hit on it from a distance.
Thank you Rick. Indeed, I've noticed how time can transform our bitterness into a different awareness. One lady is starting to open up about it more, but she's been doing a lot of healing work on her own.
...astounding your energy and drive dude...impressive every single week...also what an anecdote kid rick already ready for the stage...bravo...i love the prompt hidden(ish) in here to find our story in our origin of inspiration...really thought provoking and will have to take on a run with me and consider that moment(s) of muse...excited to see what you are building on top of all that you already built...rockstar man...
Your support means a lot to me CansaFis. In your case I'd be particularly interested in those early moments of muse. I can't wait to share what's coming in the next couple of weeks. I think you're going to like it.
...i'm in brother...and you and i know the overlap per our conversation 18 months ago...stoked that beings of being can have such gracious moments of knowing each other in their build moments...righteous to see your launch...
: )
I can easily pinpoint to the origin story of my own love of theatre. And then I can pinpoint when it became waaaay less important than other stuff. Probably better for the balance of things -- I suspect my kiddo would develop a lot of psych issues if mama kept dumping time with him to go work a show -- but it's almost like two origin stories. One of career passion and one of becoming a mom.
Also -- maaan, that somnambulant state is quite something. So pervasive, so invasive...
I hope I get to hear both of those origin stories Masha.
Loved this, Rick. You summed up so well what characterizes the saddest moments of my day when I allow them to happen:
"It happens to all of us. We enter a somnambulant state that we’re often not aware has taken us over. Our assumptions, chronic worries, and old grooves do the navigating of our lives. Before we know it, we’ve driven the whole way to work or back from the store and can’t remember doing it.
This is not life."
You are right. That is closer to death than life. Thanks for nudging me to wake from my somnambulant state next time I slip into one.
This surprises me. My impression from your writing is that you are highly disciplined about your attention, where it goes, and the actions that you take. I identify with the commitment you have to your discipline and it sure doesn't look sleepy. I mean there are different versions of automatic habits. It took me a long time to see my own constant vigilance as just a prettier version of autopilot mode. Is that what you're talking about, or am I misinterpreting? In any case, I'm grateful to be in conversation with you about such things. (Still working with the sugar fast thanks to you.)
I really appreciate that, Rick. Thank you.
I think I’m my own biggest critic and I’m certainly far from perfect. So what might look like commitment, focus, and discipline from the outside, I still see all the gaps where I’m not at my best. When I’m stressed or anxious and have to walk back to check if I locked my door because my mind is full of thoughts. Or when I do the disciplined thing — as I did today, going out for a tough interval run in wind and rain — and judge myself after questioning if I could have pushed harder, dug deeper.
Constant vigilance may be a good way to put it. I am aware of my imperfections and I don’t let go of them easily all of the time.
Makes me so happy you have joined me on the no sugar challenge. I’m still going strong too!
I confess to granting myself small celebratory treats during family events, but I've managed to eliminate most other personal indulgences. It feels very good. I used to be that person who would be fanatically strict and sit out dessert that was being shared at a gathering, but over a long time of doing that I finally felt that an absolute adherence to my practice wasn't worth the mood it injected into the family atmosphere. We all have to find our way with these things I guess.
Absolutely, Rick. It's not about being perfect -- whatever that means. But through pursuing this challenge you've eliminated other indulgences, as have I. You found a way that works for you, and that's what matters. And it makes me so happy to be a fly on the wall for it :)
You and I have talked about origin stories before, and I keep returning to this one question; is it good or bad to have more than 1 origin story?
On one hand, you have a variety of stories that you can use in different settings. On the other, the origin story is supposed to be powerful, and it probably gets its power from its singularity. By having more, you're probably diluting it....
Your thoughts?
That's a really good question Ishan. An origin story describes the life experience you've had that demonstrates why you're the right person to lead a conversation on a particular topic. I talk about how my experience posing as a bad waiter provided a wealth of observational experience about what people habitually do in challenging circumstances. I wrote a book on the topic after overfilling 150,000 water glasses and watching the human reactions. That primes the audience to listen to what I have to say. I have many other stories from my years as a speaker and entertainer that describe the origin of my understanding about principles of leadership, teamwork, innovation, etc. These are actual life experiences that taught me something about these subjects that I can share with others. Speaking usefully to an audience is a matter of being clear about the experiences that gave you wisdom and being able to share those experiences in a compelling way. You might tell a handful of "origin stories" in the course of a keynote that demonstrate the origin of your motivation to serve and your suitability to lead the conversation on a particular topic. But out of all those stories, there is one story that those who have listened to you speak will most repeat. It's your most compelling, sticky, repeatable story. And you won't know what that is until you get the feedback from you audiences. So you can, and should, have as many stories as possible that communicate the origin of wisdom you have gained. But over time your audience will reflect back to you what stories or story is most memorable to them, and as that becomes clear, you can make it more central to your presentations.
Wow, this clears things up. Thank you!
My pleasure Ishan.
Rick, such a fabulous piece, story, and call to action. I could hear YOU, your voice, your unique tone, throughout as you drew us in and then inspired us to draw ourselves out.
This was so beautiful: A miracle can be a worldly occurrence that punches a hole in our waking dream and fills us with so much wonder we temporarily lose track of who we’re at odds with, how much it’s going to cost to fix the oil leak on our car, and the argument we use to convince ourselves we have nothing special to contribute in the world.”
And PS. I’m honored and appreciate the shoutout.
My pleasure.! Happy to point others toward those who are speaking to the miracle, and that's you my friend. :)
What a fabulous ride that must’ve been.
This week’s prompt touches the heart of the whole enchilada imo.
Eagles and enchiladas. That would have been a better title.
I don’t think my email went through.
I’d love to be waitlisted please for your upcoming tool that sounds phenomenal. I see uses for it everywhere.
Eagles and enchiladas🫶
You got it Kathy.