Yesterday was Blue Monday. The holidays are over, holiday credit card bills have just arrived, resolutions have unravelled. Researchers say it is the saddest day of the year.
And it’s still winter: grey, grim, dark and cold.
Perfect time to light your fire.
June 9, 2009. Sunshine. I’m driving the winding road to Whistler and appreciating everything in my path. I’m grateful for the good road, the great weather, having a paid day off from my salaried job, and having a salary so I can pay for days like this. I’m on the road to where I want to be. The music is hot, the sun is warm on my skin and two hours into it, I admit, Fuck it. I’m an artist.
Then, during a group firestarter session with Danielle LaPorte, I mainline her white hot truths for surviving and thriving as a solo entrepreneur and an artist: Build an online platform. Your art requires an audience and your business needs customers (and they need you). Guest post. Know your squeak-by number (the minimum amount of money you need to live) and then go get the money, honey. When designing your site ensure that whatever makes you the most money gets the most virtual real estate. Craft your conversation-sparking elevator speech and deliver it. Organically grow your twitter following like this: give. Ruthlessly and relentlessly hone your vision and your mission. Exercise your askus requestus muscle (ask. ask for what you want. ask for what you need. ask. keep asking. ask). Protect your time and assume the divine responsibility of self-care. Have integrity. Be faithful to your vision and your people. Do what you say you’re going to do. Always.
But I swear everything Danielle said sounds like this:
Everything she says sounds like she’s saying it just for me. I get tear-y.
I cry the happy cry all the way home and then I get terrified. I have two kids to feed. They don’t eat words.
At home I check my e-mail and there’s a note from Danielle. It says: you’re hot shit and the real deal and you should be getting your ass published as widely as possible.
Months later Danielle DM’s me:
Months later, I do.