cool

Remember permission slips?

Those signed (or forged) whichever the case may be; pieces of paper that granted us access to off the grid childhood activities?
Weekend trips with Girl Scouts, grade school field trips to museums or the Observatory, Wednesday McDonald’s hamburger lunches in sixth grade?

Proudly, I had my dad’s signature down pat, the giant R of Roy with the straight tail of the Y, ending downward, no curling back up, no frills at all, very masculine, completely unlike my own girly sixth grade cursive; so occasionally, even though I had brought my delicious Spam with mustard on Wonder Bread sandwich in my Partridge Family lunch box for lunch that Wednesday, I’d permission slip myself a burger.

Forging (not to be confused with foraging) for food……hmmmmmm I’m sure there’s some deep hidden meaning in there.

Anyway…….
Brene Brown talks about writing HERSELF permission slips.

I LOVE that idea.

When she was on Oprah’s Super Soul Sunday, she had one tucked inside the pocket of her jean jacket.

It read: I give you permission to be excited, goofy and uncool.
Just show up and be seen.

From what I observed she didn’t get too giggly or over stare, she had her occasional “Holy Shit, I’m sitting with Oprah” moments and they felt completely authentic and actually a bit brave.
She didn’t pretend “Oh hey, no big deal, I’m fine, I’m cool.”

As the story goes, after the show she heard that Maya Angelou was in another part of the building recording some audio poems. So instead of nonchalantly replying: “Oh, that’s nice” she abandoned cool once again and told Oprah how much she admired Dr Angelou.
After all, she still had the permission slip in her pocket; and as is often the case, the Universe rewards genuineness.
Oprah asked if she’d like to meet Dr. Angelou.

Hell yeah! (My words – just guessing)

Here are her feelings about the encounter in her own words:
“So grateful that I got to meet Dr. Angelou, look her in the eye, and tell her what her work means to me. When I told her that I love playing her reading of “I shall not be moved” for my students and children, she grabbed my hand and sang, “Like a tree planted by the river, I shall not be moved.” It was a sacred moment.”

Just imagine if she’d brushed off the mention of Maya Angelou with a Too Cool For School attitude, she would have missed that once in a lifetime moment.

How many wonderful, sacred, ridiculously epic moments do we circumvent due to our habit of playing it cool?

How many beautiful creations do we talk ourselves out of?

How many people do we meet and feel a connection with……and do nothing?

How many books are unwritten, paintings un painted, businesses un started and plans unhatched because we lack the courage?

Maybe all we need is PERMISSION.

I for one, have started her practice of the permission slip.

Here are some I’ve written lately:

I give myself permission to not always know what I’m doing.
I give myself permission to play more.
I give myself permission to suck while writing the book.
I give myself permission to be happy even though I don’t have a “job”
I give myself permission to not like everyone

If you Google BRENE BROWN PERMISSION SLIPS and look at images, there are hundreds of ideas if you have trouble getting started.

I’d LOVE it if you’d write at least one thing in the comments. Tell me, share, you’ll give other people the courage to do it and maybe give them a few ideas too.

Go ahead –
I give myself permission to__________________.

I give myself permission to adore you guys,
Xox

Saturday I went against my better judgment, because I was gobsmacked, and I spoke up.

It’s not as if the Universe hadn’t given me a bazillion, (okay, four) chances to do it in the past. It just never felt right before and it’s not my nature.

Now, as you know, there’s not a lot that I would consider “against my nature”, but going up to a celebrity or public figure just isn’t my thing. Maybe because I dealt with celebrities when I was a jeweler and I’ve witnessed how even the most benign interaction can go off the rails.

Leave them alone, they know they’re awesome, keep walking, that’s it, look away.

Now, when I get famous and Meryl Steep is playing me in the movie of my life, PLEASE don’t hesitate to come up and tell me you love me. I’m someone who cannot hear that enough, let’s just get that straight right here and now.
Anyway…

There is a woman who works at the right hand of a major public figure.
As I watched a documentary series a few years back, about that public person and this woman, her Executive Everything, caught my eye. She really lit up for me. I watched how she conducted herself in meetings, her humor, creativity, smarts and general awesomeness really marked me. She was professional, yet approachable. She clearly adores said public figure, so she moves heaven and earth to make sure everything they want comes to pass.

She is a force to be reckoned with and I find her extraordinary.

Over the last few years it just so happens she has crossed my path, and into the orbit of my ordinary life.
Kind of feels like a Universal tease, right?

I see her in the airport, or in a restaurant, or get a seat a couple of rows behind her on a plane. Numerous times.

I always squeal when it happens and tug at my husband’s shirt.
There she is again, can you believe it!?
But I never approach her. I want to respect her privacy I suppose. Truthfully, I’m afraid I’ll get all tongue-tied and fan-girl stupid like I did with Liz Gilbert. AWKWARD…

So I relish the moment and then go on with my life without even a hello.

Saturday I went with a friend to see Abraham. I try to go whenever he/she/they’re in town. I have for over twenty years. Www.abrahamhicks.com

By the time we arrived all the prime real estate in the front by the stage was spoken for, so we literally walked the room until we decided two seats to the right of center would be just fine. As I arranged all my “stuff”, I looked to my left to see who I’d be sharing the next four hours with and…there she was, the extraordinary one!

“Oh my God, it’s you!” I blurted out loud.
Apparently my editing reflex shut down due to the close proximity of greatness. The look on her startled face said: Do I know you?
There she was, next to me at Abe, I couldn’t be stopped.

“You don’t understand – I see you everywhere, and I never say anything, because I don’t want to bother you, but look at this, here you are, right next to me – at Abraham of all places, ha, go figure!”

It was an avalanche of emotions too powerful to be held back any longer. I stuck out my hand, “I’m Janet, so great to finally get a chance to meet you.” Or at least I’m pretty sure that’s what I said. I could feel my mouth moving and I know words were coming out, but I was hovering out-of-body, somewhere up near the ceiling.

Her friend came back from his errand and interrupted our little meet and greet, THANKFULLY.
Otherwise, I think I’d still be there gushing away.
She was as gracious as can be,(of course she was) and I composed myself enough to come down off the ceiling and take my seat.

Let me just say this: I LOVE when famous people, or famous adjacent people (friend, spouse, etc.) are down to earth, and normal. Don’t you? She couldn’t have been kinder.

I LOVE that the Universe conspired to surprise me with a visit from “her” in the MOST unlikely of situations.

I LOVE that my authentic joy overrode my “cool”. FINALLY!

And most of all I love that I got to tell her at the end of the day, when I had recovered my wits enough to pull down my freak flag – that I felt she was extraordinary.

She took it in and we hugged.

Because honestly, what was I ever afraid of? Who doesn’t want to hear that? Even from some crazy lady at Abraham?

Carry on,
Xox

Cool Is An Emotional Straightjacket. I’m Going To Take It Off.
Brene Brown

Why do we play it so cool?

I am at my long awaited, kick ass writing retreat/workshop in Carmel as I write this.

This is my tribe. I could tell by the peals of laughter that met me at the driveway, and guided me inside this lovely house, to sit with these lovely people.
I’ve come to work hard, with a side of laughter.
If I were to write down my recipe for a happy life, that’s what it would be.
Hard work – with a side of laughter.

A good belly laugh is the anecdote to “cool”.

Anyway, I decided in the car on the way up, that I would be as authentic and vulnerable as I had the courage to be, otherwise…why bother?
It’s like the people who go into psychotherapy and pretend that their world is round when it’s actually square. It’s not doing them any good and it’s a colossal waste of time.

I will be and act excited when I’m excited (which was all day yesterday) lost if I feel lost ( mid morning) happy when that occurs (dinner last night) and cry if the mood strikes me (today when it was my turn to read).

I will not pretend that this is not the once in a lifetime experience that I know in my heart it is.

I have done that in similar social situations where I’ve felt intimidated or out of my league. It is my virtual armor, and it has repeatedly short changed me.

I know I’m not the only one, I see it all the time.

So…what if we show people exactly how we feel? Would they laugh or sneer or run away? If you can believe it, none of the above. They’d feel relieved.

I was born in LA, which is the Capitol of Cool.

Not if you’re born here – that’s just winning the weather lottery.
It’s where all the cool people that stand outside clubs and check out their reflections in the shop windows on Robertson Boulevard or Rodeo Drive have ended up. The earth is literally tilted in such a way that the “too cool for school crowd” rolls into California via every mode of transpiration imaginable; and Los Angeles in particular.

There is an air of abject “so what” that hangs over this city as thick as smog.

You feel proud of a promotion, raise, engagement ring, new house or car?
SO WHAT. BIG DEAL. BE COOL.
You can throw a rock and hit someone with a better job, bigger diamond, fancier car and more square footage.

When I worked in the jewelry business and celebrities would saunter in, we, the shop girls, all had to act like it was just another day at the office, lest we frighten those fragile, skittish, individuals away.

But a couple of us decided to be real.

We cracked jokes, fetched them vodka from the fridge and encouraged self deprecation, and you know what? They came back again and again.
They wanted a real connection. Not ooglie eyed, start struck, adoration, and not indifference. They ARE, contrary to popular belief, human beings after all. They wanted to laugh and kid around and eat cookies and talk smack about the paparazzi.
We were happy to supply that for them.

I look back and realize that we would have missed some really great moments, with some amazing people if we had played it cool, and I think that’s the moral of this whole story.

Like Brene Brown says, it IS and emotional straightjacket, and one that I’m no longer willing to wear.

In which situations do you put on your “cool.” What would it take to remove the straightjacket?
Much love, 
The writing Queen 😉 
Xox

“The only currency in this bankrupt world is what you share with someone else when you’re uncool.”
~from the movie Almost Famous~

I love that line. It’s delivered by the disheveled, “uncool” underground DJ played by the late, great Phillip Seymour Hoffman. He drops that little truth bomb on William, the 15 year old who is touring with an up and coming band, trying to capture their story for Rolling Stone magazine.

I can relate to that…now more than ever.
I am the un-coolest blogger in the blogosphere, THAT I know for sure.
I’m not really sure why I got the “hit” to blog, I’d never even read a blog before I 
started my own a year and a half ago. I just got the urge to go public.

Confession: When I look at the other blogger’s sites, I just want-to-die…of un-coolness.

When a blogger “likes” something you write, it is only polite to go check out their site. Even more so if they start to “follow” you. 

Some of these people are kids! But they have got it more together than I EVER will!
15 year old girls have blogs that link to their websites. These websites have so much content, it looks like they cost $30,000! They have paid advertising and products for sale, some have books.
WTF? At 15, I had pimples…end of story.

There are incredible 20 something fashion bloggers with tens of thousands of followers, one Italian street fashionista has over 10 million!
There are all these badass photographers who take amazing photos from exotic locals all over the world.
There are ridiculously talented writers and poets. I mean seriously good.

Then there’s me.
Almost 56 year old me, who lives in the burbs, sings musical theater (gleek), rides on the back of a motorcycle and writes about spirituality, life, and and
occasionally I throw in a poem.
I send these musings out into the world every morning. I post them, I tweet them and Facebook them, ( which I’m sure is SO last Tuesday) wondering if anyone reads them.

But every now and then, something will resonate with one of the “cool kids”
and they’ll email me, (They never leave a comment; too un-cool) to tell me it touched them or made them laugh.
They encourage and push me. They tell me I should vlog (video blog) and suggest I self publish.

Whoa, cool kids, let’s take it slow here, I’m just getting the hang of this stuff.

I do have to say, the spiritual blogosphere in general, has such a generosity of spirit. They are a community that embraces everyone. It’s where the cool kids dane to talk to the uncool, and give great advice. They are big hearted smarty pants’ who talk the talk and walk the walk.
I’m starting B-school with Marie Forleo in March. It’s an online business school that all the cool kids suggested, and which I’ve been stalking for a couple months.

I can’t even imagine it now, but I’m cautiously optimistic that I will be just a smidgen cooler come May.

By then I’ll be privy to what all the cool kids know. 

Note to self: stop using words like “smidgen”. 

I’m afraid I’m just terminally un-cool.

XoxJanet