The basic assumption underlying most of my choices and behaviour: lead with my strengths.
Self discipline? Over-rated.
I think this is an excellent philosophy. It makes my dreams real. Opera singer? Never. Playboy model? Nope. Writer? Sex pot? Mama extraordinaire? YESSIREE X 3.
So I don’t waste a lot of time with things I’m just not good at or don’t like or just plain can’t be bothered. Instead, I spend my time feeding my joys, leading with my strengths, and strengthening my strengths. I don’t work at being well-rounded. (I let chocolate do its job, there.)
I have a core weakness that is almost physical. It spreads, painfully, through all the musculature of my life.
I don’t. I rarely ask for things. Anything. Help with my girls, help with my house, help with a task, help help help. I don’t ask. I don’t ask for business. I don’t ask for the job or the promotion or the next step or even what is the next step.
I could fold this into my philosophy of lead from strengths and don’t worry about the weaknesses. It would look like this: I’m not good at asking, so I’m not going to do it or work at it.
And I kind of do, do that. That’s what this blog is about. If you like my writing, by the time you ask me to do some for you, we’re best friends and it is all sunshine and roses and paypal. I don’t have to ask for a damn thing. And we have a great time.
That’s sweet. I like that, a lot.
But I think this is a stuckness*.
In love. All the worst of me comes from skating around asking and trying to get what I want without articulating it. There’s a word for this: manipulation.
Or, accepting what is on offer, no matter how inadequate or unappealing.
In parenting. All the worst of me comes from reacting to transgressed boundaries that I NEVER ARTICULATED. Friction and fights flow from imaginary lines being crossed because I don’t ask for those lines to be noticed or even respected.
In my career: I get frustrated because I’m not getting what I want, but I don’t ask for it. (If you have employers with ESP, I need to work there.)
Clearly, my askus requestus** muscle needs exercise.
So I’ve been thinking about this: what is the worst that can happen if I ask?
The answer could be no. Instead of getting what I want, I could get nothing.
Well, how is that different from what I had before I asked?
Not much, except that I skip the regularly scheduled ambivalence and anguish. I can live with that.
* stuckness. That’s all Havi Brooks, baby. She’ll help you destuckify.
this is a lesson I learned from my brush with the Very Bad Lying Man.
If you want to know more about THAT story, here it is:
Here are the breadcrumbs. Bits of the Very Bad Lying Man fell into these posts while the un-love story was happening:
December 2009. ask and ye shall…well just ask, anyways.
February 2010. Love is a Compass.
February 2010. sexifesto
March 2010. butterflies are a drug and I’m in rehab