I pointed at a two-inch long, crudely hammered piece of metal.
“Siamese boat money?” My father laughed. He and I stood in Macy’s, in the coin department, his arms resting on my tiny shoulders. My father’s hands. Warm epaulets.
I felt grand. Princessy.
I was a Kid Collector. I collected anything and everything: Chapstick caps, Madame Alexander dolls, Matchbox cars, stamps…and coins.
Back then, I delighted in money. Loved the game of exchange. How Quahog shells I found on the beach in Cape Cod could be used as wampum in Native American cultures. How the people of Siam fashioned their money into miniature sculptures, shaped like the boats they plied as they fished. How some pennies with certain dates were worth more than others — so if you paid close attention, you could make money if you noticed details.
I didn’t have hang ups about making things and exchanging coins or bills for the effort, and the object — whether it was a tissue-paper-and-Elmer’s-glue rose, or a molded clay statue of a hand.
Then my father left.
And something shattered. Went on sale. Slid into the bargain bin.
This isn’t about dwelling in the past. This is about recognizing the layers. Peeling. Peeling. Until we reach bright nothingness, and can build back out in a freshly radiant way.
That’s what I’m doing now.
I’m rewriting my story.
Funny enough, the courage and the confidence lies in my writing. The skills I’ve honed for decades. The gifts I was given by something greater than me.
But I can’t do it alone.
In the photo, you’ll see me with my current business mentor. Of course she is also a master storyteller. Of course she is a marketing maestro. Now, she has a book appearing on the NY Times Bestseller list — this Sunday. The day before her 40th birthday.
Five years ago, she was a secretary on Broadway, with six figures of debt. Now she runs a company worth over six million.
Suzanne Evans doesn’t mess around. Her book title is The Way You Do Anything Is The Way You Do Everything.
Ain’t it the truth. Simple, and profound.
Every time I say Yes to some new opportunity — I freak out. I’m scared. Only this time, the shattering is like that of a muscle tearing when you work out. It tears, so you can grow more muscle —
When I said Yes to sponsoring at the upcoming Be The Change event in Las Vegas, April 24-27th, my viscera quivered. A storm of doubt gathered in my brow. I felt myself curling, into myself, snail-like…away from the Yes.
Except the Yes was uttered. And became Real.
In the light of the Yes, this truth came clear:
I’m more afraid of success than failure.
Failure — especially in the financial realm — is my comfort zone.
Chew on that.
What did they say in the 12-step program that gave me hope when I had none inside?
“Take the action, and the feeling will follow.”
So that’s what I’m doing.
Now I invite You to take the action. Will You come join me at Be The Change? As a sponsor, I have a limited number of tickets for guests.
If Your heart is palpitating — if anything I said here resonates — maybe it’s time to gamble on You.
Snag Your ticket now, while there are still some left. Here’s the link:
Let’s do this thing — sweaty palms and all.
Yrs in truth,