I could never fault him, though I’m unsure whether this was a failure in deductive reasoning or a blatant attempt at a scam.
When our friend Robbie was back in town and visited us, I cautioned him that while Vlad’s recovery has been excellent, we should avoid testing it with their favorite pastime: an intense tug-of-war over one of Vlad’s chew toys.
Robbie deferred, gently ignoring Vlad’s wagging the toy in front him—a clear invitation to battle.
Confused why their standard game was being rejected, Vlad simply went to his toy basket to offer another option.
Then another.
And then another, going through every possibility, convinced each time that swapping out the tug-of-war toy would solve everything.
Although willing to embrace the idea of a Fresh Start—this month’s theme and new meditation HERE—Vlad couldn’t (or wouldn’t) recognize it was time for more than a new toy.
It was time for a new game.
One of my very favorite movies, Charade, has been airing on Turner Classics a lot lately.
During the first meeting between Cary Grant and Audrey Hepburn, they banter as follows:
- Peter Joshua: Do we know each other?
- Reggie Lampert: Why, do you think we’re going to?
- Peter Joshua: I don’t know. How would I know?
- Reggie Lampert: Because I already know an awful lot of people, and until one of them dies I couldn’t possibly meet anyone else.
I often feel the same way about meeting new people, less because of the lack of vacancies in my life but more because a stranger means you might actually have to introduce yourself.
With every new person, you’re starting fresh.
Although internally I feel quite coherent, I often struggle answering that most basic question: what do you do?
I often say “I’m a writer,” which is obviously—especially since you’re reading this—more than true enough.
Yet I feel that’s leaving out a whole lot of the picture, especially since most of my time lately is spent focused on the launch of the wellness app and a huge art project (based on my writing).
(Let’s not even get into my teaching online classes and coaching clients.)
I realize the question is merely a conversation starter, not an invitation to launch into a mini-autobiography.
Nonetheless, delivering an appropriately edited soundbite of self-definitionoften feels overwhelming.
It’s always easier if someone else does it for you, even when they get it wrong.
I’ve shared before that a relative’s spouse did this when they mistranslated my (previous) life as a yoga teacher, introducing me as an “aerobics instructor.”
Since it seemed tied to compliments about my fitness, I let it go uncorrected, figuring “close enough.”
In my new Transformation Book Club HERE, we’re reading Mel Robbins’ The Let Them Theory and I’m genuinely getting some interesting things out of it.
For example, she relates that scientific studies suggest that it takes about 50 hours of time spent together to move a relationship from an acquaintance to a friendship.
Furthermore, research suggests that developing close friendships typically requires 200–300 cumulative hours of interaction.
Online, however, it’s a different story.
The conventional wisdom is that it takes between 5 to 15 “touches” (or an average of 7) for someone to feel like they know you and/or feel comfortable buying from you.
Fittingly, as I muse further about Fresh Starts, we’re also right in the middle of redoing the “Start Here” page on my website, the path I want new people to travel to get to know me and my work.
While Lewis Carroll in Alice in Wonderland offers that:
“If you don’t know where you are going,
any road will get you there.”
Unfortunately, that advice is less than helpful when it comes to developing an online marketing plan.
I loved teaching the first class of Move Into Magic this week.
The focus was on clearing and creating space, on making room for something truly new to arrive.
Indeed, if we truly want transformation, we have to change things up.
We can’t simply repeat the same experiment and expect different results.
It’s all too easy, like Vlad, to keep substituting one toy for another, hoping against hope that “this time it’s going to work.”
Fortunately, he’s wiser than most of us and learned that morning when it’s time to change the game.
Perhaps making a Fresh Start (again, new meditation HERE) is much easier for him because his identity isn’t tied up in the drama.
Speak of identity and drama…
Later that day, during our early evening walk, Vlad and I found the Gucci wallet pictured above.
Along with some cash, it was stuffed with a driver’s license, an employment ID, and numerous bank and credit cards.
The owner apparently lived in the building adjacent to ours, so we promptly returned it to their doorman.
Years ago, an 80-year-old neighbor joked mischievously that she wouldn’t mind a brush with identity theft, quipping that it might be a chance for a fresh start.
Perhaps infected with a similar spirit of whimsy, the doorman announced he would simply drop the wallet in the mailroom, which would send the owner an email about an unexpected package.
“Imagine how surprised they’ll be to get their wallet instead!” he offered.
I strongly suggested that was a genuinely terrible idea, and that he should call them immediately to end any potential panic attacks and cancelling of multiple credit cards.
Fortunately, he accepted the wisdom of this, and as soon as he initiated the call, we resumed our walk home.
Whatever the challenges of their life, I’m reasonably sure the wallet owner didn’t want to begin a 2025 fresh start that way.
Letting go and creating new adventures can be achieved in far easier ways.
Someone doesn’t need to die for us to make space to meet new people, and an imperfect soundbite shouldn’t deter us from socializing either.
At any time, you can decide which seven touches (or 200 hours) will lead to new friendships.
And while it often feels like we must go through every toy in the pile, keep in my that a fresh start is always possible.
As Vlad learned that morning, it begins the moment you realize it’s time for a new game.
Namaste for Now,
