Strong Woman Chronicles

Lesson 2 from New York

LESSON(2) When you're thinking about exactly what to say to a potential collaborator to get that magic 'yes,' less is more.  In fact, less is so much more than more, it's ridiculous.

When you are building a relationship with a new person, whether it's in your personal life or more specifically in the form of new joint venture partnerships for your business...go easy.

Like the character in the movie 'American Pie,' it's not hard to slip into verbal diarrhea and give way too much information.  ("And this one time, at scouts camp...")  Instead, dial it down.  Think in terms of providing just enough information to get a response like this: "Okay, you have me intrigued, go on."

The most successful joint venture proposals I've made have always been super, super light.  "What would you think of XYZ? It'd require an hour of your time and you'd reap the benefits for an indefinite amount of time.  I'd do the rest of the work."  Notice how a lot of details are actually missing here. But the key things are present:  The major benefit and the amount of investment on the part of your potential partner.

In fact, the very lightness of your proposal bodes well for you in the eyes of the proposee (word?)  Too much information doesn't get you anywhere.  In fact, it can hurt you.  That's why, I say again, "Less is more.  Less so much more than more, it's ridiculous."

Selfish is a Dirty Word

I received a comment from one ‘Strong Woman Chronicles’ reader after the CEO’s dilemma blog entry.

What wonderful questions and insights – thank you dear reader.

Here’s a snippet from the mail: ‘Danusia, are you suggesting that she adopt a selfish approach?...... It is one thing to promote empowerment and it is quite another to promote selfishness and disrespect.’

How I’d love to answer that – and I’m hoping I can do this succinctly.

In a nutshell, yes I am advocating a selfish approach.

Let me tell you what I mean by ‘selfish’.

If selfish means to live with integrity, listening to one’s own heart, following this with actions that honour what you need, then let that be so. In my world that is not ‘selfish’ but rather living from being ‘self-centered’. Or to be even more precise, when we are ‘centred in ourself’ we are connected to what we truly need. Ideally, we can then voice this in ways that respect other’s needs also ~

This is not about a win-lose situation in which you are self-centred and expect others to cow-tow to you… a win-win [where each person is loved and honoured] is only possible when each person gets in touch with herself or himself, in the first instance. And that means beginning with self.

We get used to, especially as women, to ‘thinking over there’ to ‘what others need’ or to ‘feeling what it’s like to be in their shoes’. This is a gift needed in any relationship. Yet, when we do this as the first step, forgetting to connect first with ourselves just in case we are called ‘selfish’ - the danger is we become invisible to ourselves.

Being called selfish is one helluva powerful way of halting women in their tracks. Many of us will do anything to avoid people thinking this of us. And in the end, rather than go for what we know we yearn for [but might look or seem selfish to others] we give up on ourselves.

And then we get nasty, depressed, bitter, cynical, flat-lined, fire on reduced cylinders, […….] you fill the gap.

Here’s a request: take some time today to go inside and connect with where you are at [do it in whatever way works best for you]; then ask yourself ‘If I were self-centred, what would change in my life?

Let me know how you get on.

Believing Eyes

All my life I’ve adored words – the way they’re formed, their meanings, inflections, different languages – you name it where there are words, butterflies flitter in my stomach.

One of my favourite childhood passions was…..wait for it……….reading the telephone directory. Aged nine a flash of genius struck me. What if I picked a road in my nearby town, some 20 miles away, then systematically searched the telephone book from A-Z for all the people that live in that street?

I was beside myself with anticipation. Think of all those words I’d have to read ~ with great precision ~ in order to find the names of the people living in the 52 houses on one street. This was a challenge I couldn’t resist. It never occurred to me to wonder if other girls spent hour after hour scouring entries of this kind.

Years later I wrote a raft of publications as an academic, supervised postgraduate theses and boy did I need the discipline of trawling through line upon line of [often mindless] words.

Then a decade ago, on an idyllic beach holiday I met a wordsmith mentor to take my passion to the next level. Robert, businessman by day, champion Scrabble player by night winning competitions over the world.

Across a gin & tonic he offered to teach me the true art of playing Scrabble the Big-Boy way.

Could I resist? Course not. Leaving my then-boyfriend [known also as Mr Dull] to read his book on Chairman Mao I slipped away to be taught by a Master. Two weeks later I was within one point of Roberts scores.

How he grinned at his protégé’s progress. Robert saw something in the way I savoured words; he saw my insatiable thirst for rearranging, and strategizing. I discovered a deeper talent with words than I anticipated.

He helped me develop confidence in myself through words and most importantly by allowing himself to teach all he knew, without his ego being threatened.

Sonia Choquette, a spiritual teacher talks of ‘Believing Eyes’. These are people who see what you cannot see, often gifts you have overlooked, and call them out. Believing Eyes are the ones who believe that you can be a proficient scrabble player, even though you’ve rarely played a game. Sonia says it is rare, if not impossible, to fully realise our potential without Believing Eyes. I would not be where I am today, doing what I’m doing, without many pairs of Believing Eyes along the way.

Be Believing Eyes for someone in your life. It will make all the difference ~~~~~oh and in case you’re wondering, I found the 52 owners in that street, after several months!

Big Apple Bites

It's 5am in Brooklyn. You got it - that's Brooklyn, New York,

I'm over here to attend a conference - and there's something funny about that. It's the word 'attend'.

Most often I don't get to simply attend, absorb or relax fully at conferences. I've made it my place to deliver either a keynote or a workshop at pretty well all conferences I've been to over the past 3 years.

Here's the thing. When we go to conferences to listen to 'gurus', 'experts' 'successful people' we can get lost in the dynamism, the story, the success, the sheer wow factor of whoever is talking. At least that's what can happen to me.

We can hold these awesome people up as exemplars - they have the answers, the strategies, the path. Of course, [we might tell ourselves] if we listen very very very carefully we might learn one or two teensy lessons that transport us to whatever it is we see they have.

Hmmmm....know the feeling?

The focus here, as I see it, is 'over there' with others. And wow this can be powerful. As long as our connection to ourselves and the integrity of that doesn't get lost.

I'll tell you how this works when I speak. I'll typically talk about life as a 'successful' businesswoman, mother, woman in my own right with a solid identity as Danusia. I'll talk of being a mum of seven - Holy Moly - from then on in the audience can blow their own brains up.

As I continue talking they are busy making shedloads of stories up about me & my super abilities. They ask questions about managing, being slim, how I stretch time to fit, am I married to a millionaire - they seek a holy grail to what they think I have. Or surely I wouldn't be standing talking to them would I?

Since I can't control their responses [yet have witnessed a pattern many times now] I go straight to th heart of this awe-inspiring-made-up stuff that could stand in the way of the audience to discover something from my message, FOR THEMSELVES.

Because they aren't me. And I'm not them. Doesn't work that way.

No point even trying to make comparisons.

Let's face it, there are never going to be too many women who choose to simultaneously build a full-on career while growing and nurturing seven kids. Objectively, this is not the easiest route in life. If I were looking at me, I'd call me Mad!

Here's what I see the danger is: what scuppers many of us, especially when we listen to 'Top' speakers is we focus on the amazingness of them rather than asking ourselves: What does this person have to say that will help me be more of who I am?

In a couple of hours I'm off to the conference. I know I'll be impressed by Andrea Lee, Michael Port & Milana Leshinsky. I'm eager to hear from them. I've not come all this way to ignore their wisdom.

AND I'm most excited to listen to them, stay connected with what is true for me [for my heart, soul, life, longings] and then go kick ass in the world.

Tell you more when I get back folks.

XXX

Confessions of a Self Saboteur - Part II

I was born ugly or at least that’s what my mother told me.

At 7years old the reason she said my real mother gave me away was ‘because your birthmarks made your face ugly’.

Inching the mirror up to my nose ~ I’m super short sighted so it needed to be touching the tip of my nostrils~ I was sure I wasn’t THAT ugly that my own mother was compelled to get me out of her sight.

Over and over I heard the same message. Ugly ~ Birthmark ~Easier to get rid of you ~ Lucky to have a home~ being taken into Care is an option ~

Look as I did, I just couldn’t agree with my mother’s view. Sure I wasn’t the best looking girl around. What with specs [bottle thick lens of course] and blonde ultra fine hair in thin plaits ~ my heart knew she had it wrong.

I checked daily, sometimes hourly. I looked close. So close I knew every crevice of my face ~ the chickenpox scar above my left eye, the moles, bushy darker-than-my hair eyebrows.

You could say I made a study of my face because I felt I had to.

It was as if my life depended on it. Am I really that ugly? I’d repeat internally. Am I so unpalatable my natural mother wants nothing to do with me?

I reckoned not on the basis that it didn’t make logical sense. After all I knew first-hand girls who were truly unattractive yet their mothers thought they were the bees-knees, sliced bread, the hunky dory……

It didn’t make sense that I was gross, worthy of casting aside at a year old because my face was unbearable to be with.

I looked for evidence or proof that my adopted mum’s words were true or more hopefully untrue. It seemed she was right about my ugliness when no girl at my convent school included me in chat about who is pretty. The message that ‘boys don’t make passes at girls with glasses’ played into my ugly-girl self-dialogue; oh and then there was that time when three boys mocked my wrinkly knees.

As I searched for a counterbalance to all this I felt desolate. If I believed my ugliness drove my natural mother away, then it looked to me like I had two choices. 1) Accept this lying down and take on the identity of UGLY with the choices and consequences this would bring or 2) build a sense of self from a belief that I am not my body and that I am beautiful, in my own unique way.

It took a long time to live fully the second choice. Waking before my husband to be fully made up; never answering the door without full make up; not one friend ever seeing me without ‘dolling myself up’; - always trying to measure up physically to avoid re-enacted rejection.

Slowly, small gestures by others and by myself to me, meant I saw through the veneer that beauty is external. I realised, as I healed the little girl in me that ugliness was not my issue. It was my adopted mothers way of dealing with her own sense of not being pretty enough as a woman. I woke up to knowing beauty is indeed inside and that I’m a good looking woman.

I didn’t need to hide or have a need to be ashamed.

Aged 34 I met my natural mother ~ no mention was made of looks, no reason around ugliness led to my adoption. Her reasons for giving me a different upbringing than she could provide, at that time, were not about my physical appearance.

I spent many years fearful I would be exposed as a fraud – the ugly girl who needed to make up to be pretty. Now I walk head high, lipstick or not, knowing that beauty is from within.

We can choose to not believe the stories others make up about us. We can, with compassion, forgive people for projecting their insecurities onto us ~ fact is, we never have to believe them if we don’t want to!

I wish you a day in which you have a solid sense of who you are and what you are about. Let me know what this sparks off for you, if anything.

Luxury is a Mind Thing

A while back I asked what you readers would suggest I take to the South Pole. As supplies are limited I’ll be hard pressed to fit too many luxury items onto my sled.

Many thanks to those of you who took the time to ponder this one... in my next entry I’ll explain how I’ve been trying to secure the ONE item I really want to take to the Ice.

Folks, drum rolls….here’s what you said:

1. Eyebrow Tweezers – for those pesky facial hairs that will gather layers of ice and snow. Well yes, that’s quite a thought. For a while now I’ve been a client of the Eyebrow Queen, Vashaily Patel, [link] who keeps the fuzz on my face down nicely. A swift visit to her for one her Youch threading sessions should do the trick.
2. A Picture of my Children to remind me why I am a Strong Woman in the first place. Great one ~ one of the ways I sustain training and will keep focus on the walk is to repeat over and over the names of my children. Imagine: Freddie, George, Jack, Tom, Harriet, Isadora, Meredith….Meredith, Isadora, Harriet, Tom, Jack, George, Freddie,…Freddie, George, Jack, Tom, Harriet, Isadora, Meredith. Will I come back sane?
3. Kleenex – I hear stories that it’s best not to cry in -30 to -50 conditions. Tissues don’t stand a chance of being used to mop salty drops because they freeze on the face. Picture crusting eyes, thick frozen streaks ~ guess my stiff upper lip will have to see me through.
4. My friend Danusia - For laughs, hugs, long chats, encouragement, strength and moments of madness. Well what can I say other than I too can’t think of a better person to take with me to the South Pole. Wherever I go, funny thing she seems to follow me.
5. Hotwater bottle – boy, a ‘hotty’ would be good to have out there. Problem is, hot running water isn’t something found on the wayside of this walk. Dig snow, fire up burner, melt & pour into the bottle ~ maybe an hour job, maybe more. Frozen lump within minutes, I’m guessing.
6. Lip salve – a lifesaver for the lips, for sure. I need to research whether this works in the environment.
7. Champagne – please God let this happen. Enough said.

Lessons from Harry Potter

This weekend my three youngest children snuggled together on the sofa to watch the latest Harry Potter film. Harriet, eldest of the three, wasn't in the least bit bothered to re-watch it ~ in fact, I'd bet my granny's hat this particular DVD will be a firm favourite to be watched time and again.

Which will be no hardship.

J.K. Rowling's characters offer us deep wisdom, if we are open to it. I share two of Dumbledore's insights

"It is our choices that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities."

"Happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light"

What I like about these quotes is how both remind me that choice is at the heart of life. When relationships flounder, work grinds to a halt, illness hits & situation upon situation collapses - we humans really do have the capacity to choose how we respond.

Boy, can it feel like the opposite.

Take, as an example, my friend Sybyl. In one fortnight, she discovered her unborn baby was suffering inoperable health problems [she chose a termination], three of her neighbours died suddenly, and her mother passed away following a short yet fierce illness.

You'd be forgiven for thinking she was at the edge of what she could take. And yes, she's one devastated woman right now.

But what I've been struck by is the awesome way she chooses to focus on the learning from all her experiences of the past weeks. She talks of the wonderful nurses who cared for her in hospital & the fun she shared with her father as they sat beside her Mum in those last days.

Then there's the habit she's caught from her Mum [who couldn't talk at the end] - her Mum could make a fist action as a 'Go-Get-Em' response to life.

Sybyl throws a fist in the air often these days ~ it's not only a way of feeling closer to her Mum's energy but also as a symbol of what she is choosing in Life right now.

We Dare be Bold

Weathering

Literally thin skinned, I suppose, my face
catches the wind off the snow-line and flushes
with a flush that will never wholly settle. Well:
that was a metropolitan vanity,
wanting to look young forever, to pass.

I was never a pre-Raphaelite beauty,
nor anything but pretty enough to satisfy
men who need to be seen with passable women.
But now that I am in love with a place
which doesn’t care how I look or if I’m happy,

happy is how I look and that’s all.
My hair will turn grey in any case.
My nails chip and flake, my waist thickens,
and the years work all their usual changes.
If my face is to be weather beaten as well

that’s little enough lost, a fair bargain
for a year among lakes and fells, when simply
to look out of my window at the high pass
makes me indifferent to mirrors and to what
my soul may wear over its new complexion.

Fleur Adcock

Strong Woman Shows the Way

Strong Woman Laura Howard, Founder of Joyful Entrepreneur [believe me this is NOT an oxymoron] shared an interesting observation in her blog the other day.

She was looking at images at istockphoto, one of hers [and my] favourite sites for great photos to spice up blogs and other applications, when she decided to look for images using the keywords "joyful" and "entrepreneur".  She ended up with an array of 15 photos of men and women in suits joyfully throwing money around, holding money, and well, fondling money. Hmmm…now what’s that about?

Pictures of dollars told Laura heaps about the one-dimensional way ‘Joyful entrepreneur’ is seen………

So this got me wondering.

What images would show up if I type in ‘Strong Woman’?

Here’s what I found included in the top 20 Strong Woman images [with names] –

v      Confident Business Woman – woman in suit, waistcoat included

v      Gymnast – ‘cartwheeling’ woman

v      Woman in Kitchen – in frilly apron

v      Couple – paper cut out of couple

v      Corporate Woman – back view of suited woman

v      Biker Girl – leather, red lipstick

v      Woman power-washing – a garage door

v      Hotpants – close up of tiny leather shorts

v      Young & Angry – young woman, 2 young men behind her

v      Personal Trainer with towel around shoulders – as it says

And then I saw an image named Woman Breaking Free. My heart raced ----- until the picture revealed a woman’s headless torso, image zoomed to her lace bra with hands grasping a large metal chain tight across her breasts.

You’ll notice most of these images rely on external contexts – in other words, what women are doing to show they are strong – in kitchens, at work, leisure activities. And here's the difficulty with 'showing STRONG'  - it's an inner quality. That is, unless we are talking about literal physical strength…

There were no photos of women simply being – in nature, at peace, sitting, smiling – all were doing something active, or revealing their beauty [read flesh] or demonstrating power in some sphere.

I say [and Strong Women Survey results agree] there is no such thing as Strong DOING yet there are STRONG BEINGS. One to ponder maybe and I’d hazard a guess, hard to capture – What do you say?

PS:  I was going to include one of the sweet looking frilly clad photos for emphasis but I didn't want to download it and give istock the impression that it was popular and add more to their idea of what strong woman is all about!