Hi there my friend,
I want to tell you a story.
Last week my friend and client Tammy offered a free workshop called Find Your Bliss, as her capstone project for a leadership development program.
She told us that when she stepped into the community room of the library where she was holding the event, she saw a piano.
She didn’t know there would be a piano.
And so, for the first time ever, she played and sang for a live audience of 27 people.
Afterwards I wrote in my journal,
What does wanting to look perfect all the time cost me?
Because the songs she played weren’t perfect. But they were raw and real and utterly beautiful.
During one of the exercises, Tammy invited us to write a letter to ourselves.
In my letter to myself, I wrote:
I love you.
You are so brave.
You are doing so many hard and worthwhile things.
Stop worrying that you’re not enough.
Stop worrying that you won’t have friends if you expand and become the woman you are meant to be.
Dig deep. You are going to meet and work with your heroes.
You are becoming someone of deep, beautiful, immense power. Step into who you are becoming.
She is bigger than some of your friends now can accommodate. And that’s okay. You will have a life full of love. No matter who leaves it. Because you are the one that generates that love.
The next morning, Tammy and I met to talk about content for her business. (She and her husband own a beautiful design/build firm.) I said, “I feel like we’ve got a foot in two camps. We’ve got one foot still in the camp where we talk about kitchen renovations and backsplash tile. And we’ve got another foot in this camp of who you’re becoming – where we’re talking about finding bliss and how home renovations often create this seismic shift of personal transformation.”
She said, “I know. This is coming up everywhere – the tension between who I’ve been and who I’m becoming.”
I sat with that for a moment. Because I still needed to write an email to go out to her community for Friday. I said slowly, “What if we just say that? What if we just say, ‘hey, I’m going through this huge personal transformation. I don’t know where it’s leading, but stick around for the ride, because it’s going to be beautiful.’”
She loved it. So I wrote an email and started off with the Anais Nin quote, And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.
On Friday morning the email went out, and she texted me that she’d been getting text and email responses all day.
I was taking a shower when I had an epiphany.
My copywriting clients and people who want to learn from me always want to know more tips and tricks and strategies for getting more opens and more clicks and more sales and more followers and more conversions.
But what if it’s not about fancy copy strategies and words that sell?
What if it’s just about vulnerability? And what if that’s what I’m meant to teach?
Then I had a call with my beautiful amazing coach Mary Houston. I poured out all my business stresses. And I told her that I want to go down to working three days a week so I can spend more time with my infant daughter.
And she said, “I have a hunch that you’re not a copywriter.
You’re just a writer.”
And in that moment my soul blossomed like a flower lifting its face to the sun.
What if I could just be a writer?
Yes yes yes yes yes yes yes
This is who I am.
So: I get to be in the same space that Tammy’s in. I get to send you all this raw email and say, I don’t know exactly what’s coming next. But I’m carving out my own path.
It might get rocky.
But I know it will be beautiful.
And if this isn’t your cup of tea, you can unsubscribe right here.
Because I only want people here who want to be part of this journey.
I no longer care how big my list is, or what my open rates are, or where my next client is coming from.
I’m learning how to serve my people in alignment with my deepest soul. So if you’re on board with that, stay with me.
This is the kind of email I’ll be sending out each week from now on – a pocket of silence.
I once heard someone say that in a crowded room, you should speak more softly. The people around you will lean in to hear. You no longer have to strain your voice. And you invite the whole room to quieten.
So in this crowded noisy internet world, I’m going to be speaking more softly. Lean in if you want to listen. And if not, the door to leave is right here. I wish you all the best.
Onward and inward,
P.S. You might have noticed that the subject line includes the phrase “a storm of transformation.” I meant to type “story,” but I typed “storm,” and decided that felt just right.
October 14, 2019