“It’s not a good day unless you get a rejection letter in the mail.” +Nate Haken
One month from now, I’ll be on a plane heading west! I’ve been dreaming of 2Days with Rob Bell for over a year (it’s a conference, people, I’m a happily married woman)! I have a hotel room and plane ticket! I’ll get to see some dear friends while I’m in California! And Nicole, who wrote this SPECTACULAR piece on how our beauty is like gravity for Wild Goslings, is attending the conference, too! Sorry for the overdose of exclamations, but for all concentrated purposes, it’s Christmas is September.
Jermaine says that the anticipation for the thing that you really really want is actually the truly fun part. I don’t know if I buy that, but I would like to make this wait extra awesome sauce.
So I’m going to try to get rejected as much as humanly possible.
Learning to surf the ocean of rejection (as the very last Fuller Brush Man put it in Daniel Pink’s amazing book) is the hardest part of moving people. One of the things I’ll be covering in Breaking the Dress Code is how to get good at being rejected. But I don’t want to ask people to do something I’m not intimately familiar with myself, so this is the perfect opportunity to spend a little time exercising that skill.
For the record, I’m fairly good at rejection right now. If I want something, I’ll go for it. It’s not in me to sit around and wait for permission. When you’re a lovesick high school girl, as I often have been in life, this can have a desperate effect. But, as a resourceful entrepreneur, this trait can save your life. Or change it, even.
So, here I go! I added “Pitch five emails” to my list of daily practices (and stayed up until 1am finishing them last night). Up until now, pitching was a once a week task for me—but one I never got good at getting around to—unless there was a deadline. In an interview I listened to yesterday, Daniel Pink casually remarked, “You know, as an entrepreneur, I get rejected ALL the time.”
Wait, what? OH. You mean it never stops?
I could choose to find this depressing, realizing that the people I most admire still have to surf this ocean every day. But it’s actually incredibly encouraging.
Maybe the point isn’t to get to the place where you don’t get rejected anymore.
Maybe the point is to get to the place where you kind of love it. Because you know it means you’re showing up.
PPS. Want to learn more about surfing and rejection? Let’s Break some daggone Dress Codes, yo. Also, fun fact, I’m going to take real live surfing lessons in California next month! Pray for me? I have an ear thing (my ears hate me).
Basically, Lisa-Jo hooks you up with a word prompt and then you set a timer for five minutes and spill your thoughts all over the paper. Link back to the original post, and then, all that’s left is to check out someone else’s five-minute spiel, leaving a comment, like ya do.
So, here goes!
Today’s Prompt: LONELY (oh, God)
I miss my husband. It sucks to turn 32 without him. Moving to Maryland was a crazy thing to do. Almost as crazy as the first time I did it. But, last night, with all our friends singing to me and that stupid sombrero (God only knows where it’s been), I did NOT feel lonely.
I felt loved.
I felt a part of something. These friends, most of them introverts, risked awkward small talk and DC metro traffic to be with me and my baby boy on my birthday. These friends, most of which I would not have ever met if it weren’t for Jermaine, have carried me through the inevitable loneliness from the moment I arrived. No. From the moment he had to go. These friends, they make him so happy. He worries about me. I know it. My tendency to ball up and bawl out. He knows they’ll get me through it.
I don’t know if blogs were created to be online journals, but I’m learning I need the outlet. Not to journal, per say, but to play with my words. Writing, I feel like a mad scientist (let’s see what happens when I use “belligerent” here). I love The Bomb Shelter, but I need a lab. A dressing room. A space to try on different writing hats (and hang those gypsy-cotton curtains that Jermaine thinks are tacky). A space where rules are meant to be broken.
So, here I am. A dreamer with a penchant for tangents and big ideas. Some topics I’d like to explore:
I read a blog a few weeks ago about a woman who used her 40th birthday to give away 40 gifts. My 32nd birthday is coming up. I want to copy her. Interestingly, my birthday this year is the same weekend as the Wild Goose Festival, so I’ dreaming up ways to have this all go down there in Asheville.
I want to get back into fighting slavery. I dreamed last night that I went back to India to visit a friend from the trip. It was greener than the first time I was there, but someone was trying to hurt us. Last week, I reached out to another friend from the trip and she gave me a lot of very practical, tangible things I could do to help the anti-trafficking efforts in my own town. Her suggestions left me a bit overwhelmed, I’m sure that’s where the dream came from. I’m struggling to feel like *I* could actually do that kind of stuff.
When I had Sadie, I vowed to create a resource for young moms to help them navigate the stuff no one tells them about. Some practical stuff about how to cook and clean, and other more pregnancy related stuff like postpartum depression and homebirth and trusting your instincts. Recently, that idea has morphed into a blog and I feel like it could be amazing. If I do launch it, it probably won’t be for a couple of months, but I’d like to flesh it out a bit in these pages.
I just signed up for Elora Nicole‘s story-coaching ecourse. VERY excited. I’d like to delve into what I’m learning there, here. And one of the things seems to have something to do with women and our “place” in this world.
This is the year I’m going to write a book. All I have to do is figure out which one. The novel? The Shalom Sessions? Or Emergency Breakthrough?
I want to dream of the future. Should we have another child? Should we adopt? Both? How do I make this crazy writing/speaking dream really real? Where do I begin creating a safehouse for survivors of human trafficking?
I think we’re going back to homeschooling Sadie starting this fall (sixth grade). I’d like to write out my schemes, fears, dreams, hopes, and research. And perhaps some resources, too.
I have no freaking clue what this is going to evolve into. And I don’t want it yet. I want to experiment. To throw noodly ideas at the wall and see what sticks. If your drawn to my writing and have an idea that you’d like me to explore, I’d love to hear it.
Thank you for tuning in.
Hi! I'm Brandy. When I was 19, I wanted to be a rapper. Obviously, 13 years later, I'm an entrepreneur + life coach + prophet. Because semantics.