up soon, create some “personal rules” that you intend to follow. If you don’t like the word “rule,” you can call these “guidelines” or “policies” or “intentions.”
You might decide:
1 I will ask three people, “What was the best part of your day so far?”
2 I will to introduce Sharon to Nicholas, because I have a feeling they’d hit it off.
3 I will find someone who looks bored and lonely and I’ll chat with them.
4 I will not compare myself to anybody else.
5 I will brighten the room and spread positivity.
If you succeed in following your own personal rules, then you can leave that interview, audition, meeting, or event feeling proud of yourself. Regardless of what happens next, you’ll know that you did what you intended to do.
How Hard are You Trying, Really?
My friend Susan (remember her story from a few pages ago?) has a teenage daughter named Emily. Emily is one of those teenagers who seems much older and wiser than any sixteen-year-old could possibly be. She’s funny. She’s thoughtful. She knows far more about history and politics than most grown-ups. When (when, not “if”) Emily runs for President, she’s got my vote.
During her sophomore year in high school, Emily started her own theater company. But not just any theater company. It’s a revolutionary theater company that produces classic plays and Broadway musicals—but with an all-female cast. The Tempest—with a female Prospero. Les Misérables—with a female Javert. 1776—with a female Ben Franklin. You get the idea.
Emily wants to give women and girls the chance to play all of the amazing, exciting roles that are typically reserved for men and boys. She wants to make a statement about women’s roles in our society: “We’re not hiding in the back row anymore. We’re not playing the ‘less-important’ parts anymore. We want full access to all of the same opportunities as men. We want to be center-stage.”
Did I mention she’s sixteen years old?
#EmilyForPresident
Shortly after launching her theater company, Emily found herself facing a problem: she couldn’t find enough women who wanted to audition to be in her first show. She needed twenty-two cast members, but so far, she only had ten.
The first rehearsal session was fast approaching. Emily started to panic. Even though she’s an incredibly courageous young woman, this particular obstacle felt like…too much to handle.
With tears in her eyes, Emily told her mom, Susan, “I can’t see how I’m going to find twelve more cast members in the next couple weeks. I don’t know what to do. I’ve already asked everybody.”
Emily felt completely discouraged. Like maybe this whole theater company was going to fail before the very first rehearsal even happened. Like maybe the whole thing was a dumb idea.
Her mom listened and then said, “OK, Em. You said you’ve asked ‘everybody’. Who is ‘everybody’? How many people have you asked to audition exactly?”
Emily thought about it, and then said, “Fifteen people.”
Susan said, “OK. We live in a city with over one hundred thousand people. Fifteen people is just a tiny fraction of our population. ‘Fifteen people’ is not ‘everybody.’ Not even remotely close. If you want to find twelve more cast members, you need to contact a lot more than just fifteen people.”
I’m happy to report: Emily listened to her smart mom. She pulled herself together and—with her mom’s help—she came up with a fresh strategy to find twelve more cast members. They started texting, emailing, calling, putting up new flyers all around town, and pounding the pavement. Their efforts paid off. Within twenty-four hours, Emily found four more cast members. Boom-shaka-laka! Success! Their efforts paid off, and the project was back on track.
Emily’s predicament feels so relatable to me. Maybe for you, too?
So often in life, when we’re facing a challenge, we say to ourselves: “Ugh! This is impossible! I’ve contacted everybody! I’ve tried everything!”
But…really?
Everybody?
Everything?
You sure about that?
When we take a step back and look at the numbers, we typically discover that we haven’t actually talked to “everybody” and we haven’t tried “everything.” Not even close.
OK, sure. Maybe you talked to ten people about your project. “Ten people” is not “everybody.” Maybe you applied for five scholarships. Five scholarships is not “every scholarship.” Maybe you told seven people that you’re searching for a new job. Seven people is not “everybody.” Seven people is just…seven people. There are seven billion people on planet earth. Seven people is a microscopic fraction of the human population.
Your mind is tricking you, trying to convince you that you’ve made such a huge effort when in reality…maybe that’s not actually true.
I fell into this mental trap a few years ago. It was right before my first book was scheduled to hit the shelves. I wanted to promote the book, and I got this notion that I should be on TV. I came up with a fun idea for a morning talk show segment.
I emailed a producer at the local TV news station to pitch my idea. I didn’t hear back, so I emailed again. No response. Then I pulled out the big guns. I recorded a voice note—a little MP3 file explaining my TV segment idea—and I attached that MP3 to my third email.
“Oh yeah!” I thought to myself. “Nobody sends a voice note. That’s really going to make my email stand out. They’ll definitely contact me after hearing this.”
Nope. No response.
After that, I felt so dejected and confused.
“But…but…I emailed three times! And I even recorded a voice note!”
And yet, they still didn’t invite me to appear on TV. It made no sense to me. In my mind, I had tried “everything.”
Looking back, I have to laugh at myself, because obviously…I didn’t try “everything.” I sent a couple of emails. Sure, I made an effort to get myself booked on TV, but all things considered, I made a relatively small effort. I didn’t do “everything.” I did “a couple things.” I could have made a much bigger effort to achieve my goal.
For starters, I could have put together an impressive media packet. I could have mailed that packet to the TV station. Or I could have dropped it off in person. I could have asked all of my friends for help. “Do you know anyone who works in TV? Could you make an introduction for me?” I could have attended events where journalists and TV producers hang out. I could have marched up and introduced myself. But I didn’t do any of those things, because I was too lazy and timid. Instead, I hid in my apartment, fired off a couple quick emails, and called it a day. And then I whined when I didn’t get what I wanted. That’s the unpleasant truth.
We all slip into this kind of thinking. We all get frustrated, tired, and discouraged. It’s
