On my drive home tonight I had a conversation with myself that ended much differently than I expected. And let me get this out of the way – I’m not happy about how it ended. I exposed one of my own prejudices to myself and it’s decidedly uncomfortable.
Recently I’ve been listening to recordings of women who have built businesses within the spiritual community, sharing their wisdom about how to go through this process.
There are three questions that keep coming up:
* What do you really, really, really, really, really love doing? What could you go to work doing every day and have it feel like play?
* Who is your ideal client?
* Why aren’t you charging more for your services?
The answer to question #1 is still developing. Here’s what I know for sure:
* I know that the more I write, the more I want to write.
* I know that I LOVE facilitating groups.
* I know that I LOVE public speaking.
* I know that I LOVE the work I do with groups creating stage pieces (the Live. Write. Share. workshops that are on my other website).
* I know that I LOVE talking about miracles.
* I know that I’m REALLY good at each of things I listed above.
How those things all fit together into one business model…well, I’m still figuring that out.
As to question #2 – my ideal client. She (yes, she. I’m happy to work with men, but let’s be honest – it’s mostly women who show up for this kind of work) is someone who is already “awake”, is ready and willing to do the work necessary to get to their miracles, and is eager to pay me because she gets so much from our work together.
That last part is the segue into Question #3, and it’s also the rub. Because what I recognized tonight is that I have an ugly prejudice that says that a woman who has enough money to spend on spiritual development is…
Ugh. I hate to even write this.
She is a rich bitch. She has long, perfectly done nails and expensively streaked hair. She sits around with her rich friends (drinking something ghastly, I’m sure!) spouting platitudes like “If it’s meant to be it will be,” but never looking below the surface at what’s really going on. Because she has enough money to go to all the workshops, she can fool herself into believing that she’s doing her spiritual work, when what she’s really doing is getting a temporary high off the spiritual workshop drug.
See the problem? I’ve created a scenario in which my ideal client and my judgments about her are mutually exclusive. They cannot exist in the same space. No wonder I have such trouble figuring out what I’ll do with her once she shows up! I’m afraid that when I meet her, I’ll hate her!!!
Knowing that two things cannot occupy the same space, it’s obvious that one of these ideas has to be destroyed. It’s equally obvious which one has gotta go. And truthfully, I already know plenty of women who have money and don’t fall into the “rich bitch” stereotype I’ve created.
I use the metaphor of a snake shedding its skin often when I’m talking about spiritual growth. It’s not easy or comfortable – I found this description at www.anapsid.org: “Going into shed is apparently not a real fun thing for snakes and lizards. Most get rather cranky during this time, with some individuals becoming hissy or snappy, objecting to being held or touched.”
Spiritual growth doesn’t always feel good when I’m in the midst of it, but nights like tonight are their own kind of miracles. Otherwise I’ll never grow.
So here I am, shedding the next layer of skin. Admitting out loud something that I would love to deny, even to myself. And hoping that the next layer of skin has a little less judgment hiding inside.