Worse Case Better Best: Shit the bed. aka Empty out to start anew
I recommend getting a waterproof mattress, like, for your soul.
Do you remember the movie Trainspotting? Spud, played by Ewen Brenner - an actor almost too talented to cast. A strange and very real Hollywood occurrence. Has this brilliant scene where he wakes up from a one night stand (how 90s!) having shit the bed.
I saw that movie with my father (we all make mistakes). Anyhow, the point is: that scene was sentimental to me. An epitaph. A revelation. So small. So huge.
Roll with me: you are in a meeting. An interview. With a client. Something happens. A moment. An exchange. You watch yourself...feel yourself give way. The beast has broken out. Did you say what you feel? Did you ask an uncomfortable question? Choke up? Flail? Forget?
Are your shoes wet? How about your socks? (Forget your panties, those will have to be tossed).
Think: soiled.
A friend once told me of a day that she was shit on by a bird on her way to the office. She arrived and was fired. The shit was a warning. A flag. Signal. Cipher.
Are we relating yet?
Are we grasping for our resume? LinkedIn popping open. Don’t bother. Take a bath and a breath. Donate that outfit - some regrets are left regretted. Wake up late. Don’t give warning you are not going to bother coming in. Call me.
Seriously - our boot straps are intended to be used.
Free advice, shall we? You bet!
Buy something. Used. A book you have never read or a DIY facemask mix. Something that requires patience. Why? Because you are going to need it. Ha! No! Not because of the wait to get the next gig is a’coming - but to pump the muscle of how to get the most in wisdom and literal returns from the time not ahead - the right now.
Forget journaling or inventory taking. Wait 72 hours. We learn very, very little in the flurry of an “event”. The temperature is just too high. Shock is subtle, like a jumbotron camera at a sporting event - the IQ goes lowrise. The meat and matter meets us in the middle. Thus the assessment buffer. It is intense - the embarrassment, anger, shame, confusion. Let it be. Two days from now dedicate yourself to 20 minutes at least of free writing - by hand - on the “event”. Don’t read it for 24. Read it. Search your memory for NOT similar experiences, but related feelings. Look to your Herstory. Go 6 months into the future - what was THAT time like?
Tell the story. Record it. Alone. Listen to it three times. Take out the most stirring statements. Look at your cover letter or mission statement. Stop - call me. The next part is secret……
I promise - and my bottomline fucking depends on this SHIT (!) - these moments are everything. Essential. What happens within you and how the debrief is farmed is the key in the lock of your aim castle.
A bridge people, a translator, sherpa, sometimes jester (never yes sir) is what SDYD is. Dreams are honed, not captured. Put away your net. Break out the backhoe.
