Beware of Wolves in Sheep's Clothing

Once a month I'm sharing the full transcript of my outrageously popular and free newsletter Hello Truesday, which covers something I know to be true that week. This one, from last week, was in line with usual pretty nifty open rate, but also saw hundreds -- yes hundreds -- of responses. That's about an eight kajillion increase over the previous week.

I guess I hit a vein.

You can read it below. But, know that subscribers get the good stuff first and you can get in on that right here. So, I guess THE ONE THING you need to do this week is subscribe.

Now, let's get to the good stuff.

Last week, on a flight back from Los Angeles, I had a radical a-ha moment that has the potential of opening up an entire swatch of speaking clients. It was one of those head-smack-obvious-in-hindsight moments after which we feel equally proud (to have had) as annoyed (that it too so long to realize).

As an aside, when I told my husband that I was as proud as I was annoyed with myself, his response was perfect: "Well, the important thing is that you got there eventually." (Right? I KNOW! Dreamy.)

It reminds me of what my running coach, Rick Muhr (who I profile in Limitless) used to say. "When people ask you after a race what your time was, just say, 'It was the time of my life.'" A finish is a finish no matter how long it takes to get there.

What's the a-ha moment? That Wonderhell could be used in a corporate setting, as a slam dunk of a keynote, by simply changing the stories I use. The process of Wonderhell -- embrace ambition, renegotiation your relationship with change, and get comfortable being uncomfortable -- are exactly the same things that corporate audiences need to hear, too.

So, that's one thing I know to be true this week: the finish is the finish, no matter how long it takes to get there. But it's not actually what I chose for this week's main subject. So, hey, it's a Double Hello Truesday for you!

This week's main subject circles around the reaction that a few of my fellow authors-speakers had when I shared my seismic shift of an idea and, more to the point, how a couple of those reactions made me feel.

Have you ever done this? You tell someone your big hairy scary goal and they just sort of look at you, and after a beat, give you one of four reactions:

1. They beam, "Wow, that's amazing, you are perfect and this idea is perfect and everything about all of this is perfect."
2. They hesitate, "Oh, are you sure? This seems like a lot? Maybe you should slow down?"
3. They fear, "That's so scary. I don't think you should do that."
4. They envy, "Oh, I love that for you..."

Let's break them down.

1. The Beam Team: These people feel like sunlight. Keep them close.
2. The Hesitant Horde: These people are worried about you. Maybe they love you, and they just don't want to see you get hurt. Maybe they've walked the path already, and they see the landmines ahead. Listen to them. Go to school on where they are right. Dismiss the rest.
3. The Fear Farmers: These people are cowards. They say, "I don't think you should do that" and what they really mean is "I don't think I could do that." Bless and release.
4. The Envy Squad: But then there are these f*ckers. These envious little trolls who drip, drip, drip their cancer into your veins and, at the moment things start to go wrong, remind you that they've been festering quietly inside your brain all along, just waiting to be proven right.

I was so excited at the moment I realized that Wonderhell can be a corporate keynote, and I made a huge mistake: I sent the idea, and my glee, out to about a dozen colleagues who do what I do, speak and write for a living. My mistake wasn't getting advice; my mistake was getting advice from a set of people I didn't take time to properly curate.

I got some Beam Teamers, I got some Hesitant Horders I got some Fear Farmers. But I also got a couple members of The Envy Squad.

Their "feedback" came in that sort of "I'm just looking out for what's best for you" vague warning that maybe, just maybe, you're thinking outside of your lane, too big for your britches, not yet ready for prime time.

"That space is more complicated than you understand." "Tread lightly. Do you know enough?" "Are you trying to be all things to all people?"

And, I shrunk back.

Maybe I am wrong. Maybe this was a stupid idea. Maybe they know more than me.

I was on a six hour flight and had no choice but to sit with my discomfort until I found my way through it. And I realized that, well yeah, I spent 20 years doing exactly this thing I realized I can talk about. So, thanks pal, I think I'm all good.

In the same way that we can bless and release the Fear Farmers by not letting their lack of imagination hold back our ambition, we can also let the Envy Squad roll on by if we just remind ourselves that they don't, in fact, cheer for our success. And, it's not because they don't want us to succeed; their scarcity mindset just tells them that there isn't room for us AND them at the top.

And, that brings me to the real thing I know to be true this week: scarcity minded people will hand you muzzles disguised as caring feedback.

But, what's that old saying about drinking poison and hoping your enemy dies?

Seems like a heavy way to live.

Plus, doesn't it just take way too much energy?

I'm on the Beam Team. How about you?