Today, it’s all about Danielle LaPorte, and her provocative stance on “free stuff,” which she shared at RHH to a room full of 150 nodding heads.
“Nothing is free — everything is a transfer of energy.”
– Danielle LaPorte
Expansion: just because something is free (monetarily) doesn’t mean it’s free (energetically). Time is money. And money is a paper representation of an energetic transaction. Don’t be profligate with your most precious resource: your energy.
Some practical approaches to unshackle yourself from the free stuff / time-suck cycle — straight from Danielle’s lips, to your eyes:
> Don’t take the swag bag, if there’s nothing good.
You’ll just waste time throwing out, recycling, or regifting the stuff later.
> Don’t download other people’s free PDFs.
Unless they’re amazing, and it’s amazing, and you are quite certain that you’re going to be more amazing because of it.
A few more ideas of my own:
> Unsubscribe from all the e-newsletters that you never read.
If you’re ashamed to unsubscribe (because it’s Auntie Sue’s newsletter about her corndog stand at the state fair, and she’d commit hari-kiri if she saw your unsubscribe request) then set up an auto-filter that immediately archives or deletes the newsletter before it hits your inbox. You’ll never see it, and Auntie Sue will be none the wiser. I’m not a huge fan of passive-aggressive workarounds, but hey, I don’t wanna start any epic family feuds.
> Don’t travel out of your way for free pizza, beer, or anything of the kind.
That nonsense is for frat boys — and people with no vocational calling. Your time is worth SO much more that the chump change you’ll save on a mediocre morsel.
> Don’t sign up for free trial periods.
Unless you’re genuinely interested in the service, and plan to upgrade as soon as you’ve given it a thorough test drive.
Frugality is swell, and locking down freebies feels virtuous. But — to borrow a common maxim — “a bargain is only a bargain if you need the product in the first place.”
Last weekend, I had the profound privilege of attending Marie Forleo’s Rich Happy and Hot LIVE conference in New York City. I’m back home now, but I’m still shimmering with electricity. If you were there, you’d understand.
My next few posts will be heavily inspired by the brilliant exercises, ideas and speakers I was exposed to at the 3-day event.
Let’s start with this pivotal, critical question — which sprang from the lips of Marie Forleo herself:
“If you were the BEST in the world at what you do, how would you BEHAVE?”
> Would you wake up at dawn, set your intentions for the day, and get crack-a-lackin’?
> Would you spend 15 minutes an hour on Twitter, or 15 minutes a day?
> Would you obsessively check your email, or would you keep your inbox CLOSED for the majority of the day, so you can frickin’ WORK?
> Would you agonize over other people’s careers — people who seem more successful and popular than you — or would you celebrate their successes and learn from their models?
> Would you send gawky, icky groupie-style fan mail to people you idolize, or would you approach them respectfully, as your esteemed peers?
> Would you waste valuable energy fretting and frittering with minutia (document formatting, toilet cleaning, button mending), or would you hire professionals to help you create “white space” in your life?
> Would you accept every new client, opportunity and request that comes your way — or would you choose your projects with gracious discernment?
> Would you say YES to dinner with an unexpected advocate, mentor or collaborator?
> Would you fill your days with objects, scents, music, textiles, fonts, colors, literature, systems, foods, festivities, experiences and HUMANS that make you feel strong // vibrant // galvanized // greater-than?
Last week’s Combat-Ready Comebacks post was quite the sleeper box-office hit. Your comments were intriguing, compelling and inspiring. Most importantly, I got schooled about using the word “lame” (as in, “physically disabled”) as a synonym for “bad.” Thanks to your gentle-but-firm nudges, I am now 58% less douchetastic!
I’m riding the comeback wave, and dishing out 12 more self-assured, assertive statements — based on your impassioned requests. Engage. Illuminate. And enjoy.
I wanna hear these lifescripts echoing in hallowed halls across the nation.
SETTING: You’re browsing through the Discount Strumpet Aisle at Forever 21, in search of seasonal finery. Your shopping buddy sighs, mopes, and mucks about, declaring: “GAAAWD, I’m sooooo fat!”
Instead of saying:
“No, you’re not!” { roll eyes in irritation }
If your friend ISN’T fat, try saying:
“Hey, doll, you’re gorgeous. Foolishly, wildly, maniacally gorgeous. I wish you could see yourself the way of the rest of the world does. You’d be prancing about like a prize-winning unicorn, instead of wasting precious daylight frowning in the mirror. So, let’s cut the fat-talk, and focus on finding the faux-fur shawl that’ll complete your Anna Karenina winter ball costume!”
Or perhaps:
“You’re fat. And I’m stupid. Yay, we’re both completely out of touch with reality! No wonder we’re such good friends.”
If your friend IS fat, try saying:
“Yup, you’re fat. You’re fat — and brilliant, and generous, and sexy, and hilarious, and progressive, and inspiring, and my frickin’ best friend in the world. I never want you to change, unless YOU want to change. I just want you to be happy as a clam. So, let’s ring up that V-neck sweater and get outta here. The world needs a dose of your curves, before sundown.”
SETTING: You’re an inked-up vixen. Full-sleeves, back piece — a regular Kat Von D. You’re struttin’ down the street in a sleeveless tank, looking like a walking work of art. Random Passerby #1 feels compelled to mutter to Faceless Goon #2, “What a shame. She’d be so pretty if she weren’t covered in all those tattoos.”
Instead of saying:
“{ Insert expletive here }, you shallow cowbell!”
Try saying:
“That’s interesting. You think I’d be prettier without my tattoos. And I think I’m beautiful with them. Isn’t it lovely that was can have differing visions of beauty, and still treat one another with respect? And a very good day to you, too!”
Or:
“And you’d be prettier if you weren’t covered in all that bigotry!” { Only recommended if you’re a scrappy street fighter with advanced martial arts training }
Or:
“I couldn’t help but overhear your comment about my body. Since you felt comfortable voicing your aesthetic opinion to a total stranger, I thought I’d share my own. I adore my tattoos. They’re a physical representation of my spirit, my style, and my life story. This tattoo is dedicated to my mom, who passed away. This one represents my love of traveling and adventure. This one commemorates my college graduation. And this one is still a work-in-progress, like me. And like you, I’d imagine. Pretty neat, huh?”
SETTING: You’re crammed in a sticky diner booth with a gaggle of hungry comrades. The waitress brings over your meals. Seared flesh all around — except for your plate. Veggie-phobic mockery ensues.
Instead of saying:
“Y’all are @*$#-ing murderers!”
Try saying:
“Y’know, the interplay between food, physicality and morality is complicated. I’ve chosen a vegetarian / flexitarian / vegan / raw food lifestyle, because it feels right for my body — and my belief system. I’m not gonna shove my veggie burger down your gullet, and I’m certainly not gonna shove my personal ‘isms down your throat, either. I’d be stoked if you’d offer me the same respect. And enjoy your corned beef hash, homeskillet.”
Or:
“Fun fact: it takes about 1,000 gallons of water — a DAY — to support your meat-eating lifestyle. Me? A paltry 400. Just doing my part to save the planet from turning into a barren wasteland, yo. You’re welcome.”
Or:
“Jeez, are you really so offended by the stuff I enjoy? Remind me never to invite you to my annual ladies-only pillow-fight slumber party & hot oil-wrestling chocolate-chip pancake brunch. This year’s theme is ‘nudity,’ by the way.”
SETTING: You’re carousing with your coterie, who (thanks to your forceful nudges) have eliminated “gay” and “lame” from their vocabulary (as pejorative terms). But! Fresh insults await, in the form of “retarded.”
Instead of saying:
{ Nothing }
Try saying:
“I’m kind of flabbergasted that you think it’s okay to say ‘retarded’ when you mean ‘bad.’ I’m going to delete the last 60 seconds from my memory, and let you recalibrate your vocabulary. Ready? Set? Go.”
Or:
“Hey, I know what I’m getting you for Christmas…a dictionary! I’m going to heartily recommend that you re-read the definition of ‘retarded’. I’d hate to see you make a fool of yourself — again.”
Or:
“How would you feel if the majority of the world used the word nearsighted / Norwegian / short / freckled / dyslexic / dimpled / green-eyed / bisexual / blonde / brunette { insert other descriptive terms, relevant to the offender } as a synonym for ‘bad’? It might not seem like it, but words have the power to shape perspectives — and cement prejudices. Think before you speak, kiddo.”
Live long & prosper, hustlers. And hit me with more awkward moments to verbally finesse!
Today, I’m offering up a platter of 9 combat-ready comebacks for 3 all-too-common situations.
Memorize ‘em. Customize ‘em. Walk tall, and rise above it all.
SETTING: You’re strutting down the street, sipping on a pumpkin spice latte, feeling bourgeoisie and fancy-free. Suddenly, a clipboard-wielding nonprofit employee harangues you on the curb, asking for a monthly contribution to their (admittedly noble) cause.
“I think the work you’re doing is commendable — and I’d be happy to jot down your organization’s URL so I can research it later — but as a rule, I avoid making spontaneous financial decisions on street-corners. Thanks, ma’am / sir!”
OR:
“I choose three nonprofits to support each year, and that’s all my budget can accommodate. I’ll keep your organization in mind for 2011. Keep on trucking!”
OR:
“I can’t commit to a monthly membership, but I’ll happily write you a one-time check for twenty bucks if it helps your cause. And kindly leave me off your mailing list. I’ll follow you on Twitter instead.”
SETTING:You’re chillaxing with your comrades, listening to Finnish industrial synth-pop and playing Bananagrams. A slightly-under-evolved companion unthinkingly blurts out: “That bagel / movie / sweater is SO GAY.”
Instead of saying:
{ Nothing }
Try saying:
“The best things usually are.”
OR:
“Gay? Really? I was getting a pretty strong hetero vibe from that inanimate object, but then again, my gaydar’s been on the fritz lately.”
OR:
“Dude. Time to dust off your thesaurus. ‘Gay’ is not — and never has been — a synonym for “lame.” You’re being sloppy, and it’s offensive. I’m telling you straight-up (no pun intended) because I know you’re smarter than that.”
SETTING: You’re baking a rhubarb pie with grandma / mom / auntie Sue. All the mommas in the Haus wanna know: when are you gonna pop out some BABIEEEEEEEEZ?
Instead of saying:
“Um, maybe later. I’m . . . busy.”
Try saying:
“I know that y’all are excited about the prospect of grandkids, but having a baby is an irreversible decision — it’s gotta be mine, and mine alone. I love your enthusiasm, but your sense of urgency is clouding my ability to discern what’s right for me. So, let’s all just simmer down. You’ll be the first to know if any babies are brewing.”
OR:
“I know that being a mom has brought you boundless joy, and I can understand why you’d want me to experience that joy for myself. But I gotta be frank — I don’t envision a future that involves kidlets. I’m on a different path, with different priorities. I’m making my own kind of joy, and I’m deeply, truly happy with life I’m building.”
OR:
“I’m child-free by choice, actually. I’ve got nothing but respect for women who choose to bring kids into the world, but I’m gonna funnel my time on earth into making the planet a better place for the people who are already on it.”
Calling All Word-Strapped Warriors
When do you find yourself thinking, “I. Don’t. Know. What. The. Eff. To. Say”?
