Aha.
Crap.
Aha moments aren’t always pleasant, but they are illuminating.
There’s been something really bugging me about the meeting I’m going to today and I figured out what it is. It’s me. It’s my attitude. I realized that what I’d written yesterday wasn’t clever, it was sarcastic and defensive. The energy didn’t sit right and alarm bells have been ringing. One just clanged me in the head.
It’s common to try to control a situation by marginalizing the participants. People do it all the time. It’s one of the coping mechanisms we’re taught in the land of low self-esteem. It’s an extreme variation of imagining my audience in their underwear. If they’re silly, they’re less frightening. It’s also a sign that my head isn’t in the right place.
I am not like that. I believe in people. I believe in believing in people.
Expectations are a self-fulfilling prophecy. Expect the worst and guess what? Expect the best and it will happen.
I’ve written about this before. It’s not some mystical, magical phenomena. If I’m positive about myself, about these people and about what I’m talking about, no matter what we all win. They may or may not find an interest in the idea that I’m pitching but the experience of talking to me about it will be good. It will also be funny and my enthusiasm will be infectious. That’s who I am. The love comes through.
Sometimes delivered like a bull in a china shop, but hey maybe the little tinkler on the door was the bell that hit me in the head.
Significantly,
Susan Scot Fry
A Year of Significance 
Those aha moments get me every time, too. It starts with an “Oh!” and follows with an “Ohhhh….” You know what, though? I end up (usually) just where you did — reaffirming what I already knew or believed to be true, or coming back to things in a clearer way, or seeing through a whole new set of specs, and I can take the next steps on my path with more integrity. Good luck with what you’ve got cooking – and you’re right: your sense of humor and personality and outlook are infectious and whatever comes out of this will be for the best. (Good luck anyway!)
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There’s sometimes the distinct sound of my hand slapping my forehead, too.
As long as I keep laughing — mostly at myself because hey, I am funny — I’m golden.
This blog is so helpful for clarity. And, putting it out into the world keeps me honest.
Thanks.
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I’m really glad you posted this. They are not your enemy. Your endeavor is part of a larger trend as you mentioned earlier with more and more tv shows turning their eyes to the paranormal. The “margin” is getting pretty big… :). Good luck on the presentation!
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Thanks, Gen.
I hear what you’re saying and I appreciate it. One thing you said struck a special cord, though and made me ask myself – did I think they were my enemy? Just like I didn’t go back to the old post and change it’s content because it would be dishonest, I had to ask myself.
No, I didn’t ever think they were my enemy, but I did immediately fall into old habits.
After I left the Faire, I stopped going to meetings. When we got Optimist Theatre up and running, the meetings started again. I am so full of love for the project, that it showed through first and foremost.
Caper Company is many things, but it’s also a business. I do it because I want people (especially women) to experience some things that they might not otherwise be able to. But, in order to do that, that means structuring and operating it effectively. That means business meetings. All of a sudden, I’m back in Faire staff meetings mode.
That’s a whole topic in itself which I’ll talk about eventually. But, even then they weren’t my enemy. I was.
I’m not anymore.
Thanks for bearing witness and for the support.
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I love you. I love your honesty. It’s refreshing and overwhelmingly beautiful.
We are half an America away from one another and haven’t seen each other in years, but your attitude toward life continues to inspire me – and has since I was a bloody 18 year-old.
Thank you ever so much!
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I love you too, Cate.
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