Invite HERE
I was surprised that I was surprised.
It seemed like an easy enough question.
And yet I found myself unexpectedly at a loss for an answer.
You see, I recently enrolled in a very high-end marketing program.
Each month there’s a group call entitled “Needs & Leads.”
Since I’m launching two ambitious projects, the “Needs” portion was very clear.
What I found more perplexing was the Leads aspect, namely the offering I was supposed to toss out to the group.
Especially for a bunch of strangers, I had no idea what possibilities I could offer, what opportunities I could bring to the table.
It struck be as ironic in this month where the theme I’ve chosen is Giving––New Meditation HERE––I questioned exactly what I had bring to this networking potluck.
It’s not like I haven’t successfully marketed my talents before.
This felt different somehow, probably because I wasn’t being hired for my expertise.
Instead,I was asked to float a casual, generalized offer before strangers.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t think of an easy one like other people seemed to have like:
“I have a podcast for Entrepreneur Moms I could put you on.”
I just wasn’t sure what I had to give that would be of value to this crowd.
Showing up that way felt like going against something my parents(and probably yours, too)had always taught me:
Never Show Up to A Party
Empty-Handed.
I’ve shared this often before and will no doubt continue to do so, since it’s a source of perpetual pride and delight, not just to me but also to a score of other locals.
Namely, that every morning in our improvised dog park, Vlad––by a method known only to him––methodically goes around and gives each person a chance to play Fetch.
The regulars expect it.
Smiling, they’ll define the moment as it happens:
“I see it’s my turn now.”
With the singular exception of one random woman who astonishingly refused to kick the ball to Vlad––she “didn’t want to get her sneakers dirty” which I think in a dog park context is pretty much a declaration of insanity––this is a triumphant daily example of giving and receiving.
Unlike myself, Vlad knows exactly what he has offer and does so not only freely, but also with––as I wrote HERE––a confidence that borders on entitlement.
This level of giving is altogether inspiring, even if unattainable for most humans.
Since the theme this month is Giving, I’ve found myself musing a lot on its forms and expressions.
I even asked chat.openai.com about the origin of the phrase “This dress is giving me life” and all its other variations.
At first AI told me it was impossible to know where that particular fashion meme originated.
Dissatisfied, I clicked “Regenerate response.”
Then it suggested it may have been the character Cookie Lyon, played by Taraji P. Henson, in the television series Empire but also that it might merely have been popularized by her.
Since Artificial Intelligence is known to simply make things up, it’s hard to know just how accurate this attribution really is.
Even so, I had a moment of envy thinking that some inanimate objects were clearly better at defining their giving than I was.
This week I’m prepping the in-person (and zoom) workshop I’m teaching on Sunday June 25th as a way of launching my birthday week.
Since this event benefits Seva––an incredible organization whose motto is “transforming lives by restoring sight”––that was co-founded by Ram Dass, I’m also diving deep into his works.
One favorite Ram Dass story was recounted in a documentary I watched this week.
When he asked his guru Neem Karoli Baba what the best way to serve others was, the response was astonishingly simple:
“Feed people.”
Nothing philosophical or abstract.
No highfalutin guru-speak.
Simply serving the basic needs of others by providing nourishment.
Or, in the case of Seva, curing blindness.
You can donate HERE.
Note: any amount helps and $50 restores someone’s sight.
If you want to attend in person or via Zoom that would be amazing.
And to answer the two questions I keep getting:
a) Yes, the workshop will be recorded
b) the yoga is going to be very, very accessible.
IE, you can pretty much do whatever you want.
Speaking of which…
I also realized I’m not alone in sometimes being confused about what we have to give.
When I worked with creative clients, it often eluded them as well.
Or, as is often the case with yoga teacher friends of mine, they often have a mistaken assumption about what people really appreciate about them.
Often they think it’s their deep and specific knowledge of anatomy, for example, when really it’s the vibe of their class that draws crowds.
My favorite example of this kind of confusion was several years ago when I taught a Sunday Evening Chill Class.
My most faithful student asked me during her first class if I minded if she made modifications.
Of course I told her that was fine.
I didn’t think what that meant would be her sitting with the group for the opening and closing OMs but spending the rest of the class in reclined positions, layering a mountain of blankets over her body.
The room was very dark so this wasn’t really that distracting.
Yet nonetheless I couldn’t help but wonder since she ignored every single one of my instructions why she kept showing up, essentially just to nap.
Was it only to listen to my Chill Spotify Playlists?
Beyond this, she even made a point to tell me that she’d written to the management several times to request more classes from me on the schedule.
It was so sweet yet so baffling.
Sometimes what you’re giving––even when it’s deeply appreciated––really does remain a mystery.
Mostly given the demands of imminently launching of projects, I decided to skip this month’s “Needs & Leads” call.
(I went swimming instead.)
Oddly enough, later that afternoon I received a group email from the host with a profoundly sincere apology, one perhaps more appropriate for someone caught in a political scandal.
“Deeply regret” … “I fell short of my own expectations in this instance” … “I take full responsibility for that error.”
Somehow, for reasons unknown, the call didn’t happen.
It’s now been reschedule for next week.
That means I have another 7 days to figure out exactly what I want to offer a group of strangers.
And during this time I also have to decide on the exact content of my workshop, one that will work well for all levels and also succeed IRL and on Zoom.
Or…come to think of it…maybe I don’t have to after all.
I will probably never reach the level of clarity (or confidence) that Vlad has about what he has to give.
And although I will try––as with Seva––to keep things as simple and direct as Ram Dass’ guru advised, it’s also true that sometimes the true value of what we’re offering may remain a mystery to us.
It could simply be our playlist…or our presence.
(Or maybe it’s just providing a safe space on a Sunday evening to nap.)
In the end, perhaps all that matters is that we stand open-handed in the field, ready to give, while also allowing the mystery to remain.
Namaste for Now,
