The bear, wolf, fox and rabbit – a joke that teaches; Feeling good – it’s your responsibility; My son, Taylor’s take on money, career, Dad and the SKILLS and SOUL that drive him.

Welcome to the March edition of Tips and Topics.

In SAVVY, the joke about the bear, wolf, fox and rabbit highlights the need to teach our clients (and ourselves) to be assertive and abandon a “victim” mentality. It’s about taking responsibility for your own happiness.

In SKILLS and SOUL, my son, Taylor writes about his take on a discussion he and I had about how his relationship to money and career and how it was impacted differently by his relationship with his mother versus me. He shares his SKILLS and what drives his SOUL.

savvy

One of the “rituals’ at the start of my day is to see what joke Funsteria has dished up for the day. Last month, I was amused by a joke that was also quite thought-provoking.

Tip 1

Teach our clients (and ourselves) to be empowered, assertive (not aggressive) to ask for what you want. Abandon any “victim” mentality.

What feelings and thoughts does this joke provoke in you?

Rumour got round that the bear kept a list of all the animals he plans to kill.

Scared and confused, the wolf went to confront the bear.

“Bear,” said wolf. “Do you really keep a list of all the animals you plan to kill?”

“I do.” said the bear.

“And… Is my name on it?” asked the wolf.

“It is.” the bear growled. And the following morning, the wolf was found dead on the forest floor.

The fox came later that day to confront the bear.

“Bear,” she said. “Do you really keep a list of all the animals you plan to kill?”

“I do.” said the bear.

“And… Is my name on it?” she asked.

“It is.” the bear growled. And the following morning, fox’s mangled remains were found lying on the forest floor.

That day the rabbit, too, decided to confront the bear.

“Bear,” he said. “Do you really keep a list of all the animals you plan to kill?”

“I do.” said the bear.

“And… Is my name on it?” asked the rabbit.

“It is.” the bear growled.

“Can – can you remove it?”

“Oh, for sure.”

Bottom Line:

What blocks you and your clients from simply asking, from an empowered position, for what you want? Is it fear of rejection; chronic disempowerment derived from family, environmental and social deprivation; communication skills challenges; shame and guilt…..?

Tip 2

Embrace a strengths-based view of others, moving away from blaming others for your unhappiness.

It’s each person’s responsibility to “beat the drum” that makes them feel good:

• What people, places and things are contributing to my well-being; or pulling me away from a life of joy?
• Which of those do I have the power and courage to change; and which do I choose to accept with an open heart?
• How can I help anyone if I am running on emotional empty, bitter, burnt out and resentful?

It’s not someone else’s responsibility to change to please you. If that is the view you embrace, you have just handed the power over your joy to someone else over whom you have no control anyway.

Don’t disempower yourself by placing your happiness and well being in their hands (they are usually so focused on their wants and needs, not yours).

Reference for Graphic:

https://www.instagram.com/p/Co7Z3N4u7gP/?igshid=OTA3YzJiYTA=

skills & soul

Last month in SOUL, I wrote about a discussion my son, Taylor and I had about how his relationship to money and career was impacted differently by his relationship with his mother versus me. It was my take on the conversation. While he didn’t dispute what I had said, it did prompt him to want to share his “side of the story”.

Taylor is about to launch his own newsletter and consulting projects. So this is a perfect time and place to have him speak for himself on the “rest of the story” about money, career, Dad and the SKILLS and SOUL that drive him.

Tip 1 

“The only relationship you’ll for sure have for the rest of your life is with yourself. So make it a good one.”

Here’s Taylor in his own words:

“It takes money to have a good life.”

“To whom much has been given, much will be expected.”

“You can go to ANY medical school you want to” (wink, wink…)

Of everything my Dad told me growing up, these have been the hardest ones to let go of. He probably hasn’t said any of this for 20 years, but it’s amazing how his voice has morphed into my own over the years. The hardest to relinquish has been the first. It’s been like burnt-on crust on a pan that simply won’t dissolve no matter how long I soak it. 

“It takes money to have a good life.” Growing up in a well-off university town, I accepted this as gospel. In fact, there was nothing to “accept”. It just WAS. Every one of my friends’ parents were executives, or professors, or leaders in their field. When school began, the conversations were about WHERE we went on vacation, not WHETHER we went on vacation. Dad was always open about finances with me, and as I ran the numbers in my head as a teenager, I remember thinking, “How does anyone survive on less than six figures?” The dissolution of this belief began in earnest when I moved to San Francisco in 2009 in the heart of the great recession.

“Why did you come here? Summer’s over. Nobody’s hiring. If anything, we’re letting go of people.” My face was flushed and my heart racing as I stood at the entrance of the Italian restaurant in the North Beach neighborhood of San Francisco. In my backpack were 200 resumes highlighting my 2+ years of restaurant experience. It was October 17, 2009 and I was sleeping on my college roommate’s couch, determined to move to City. It took me three days to find a job. Every day I picked a neighborhood—Little Italy, Polk Street, the Marina— and started down one side of the street and back the other. I walked into every restaurant and cafe, introduced myself, and handed over my resume. On Day 3, I found a job at a dingy Italian restaurant run by a bitter old Italian lady who turned out to be the worst boss I ever had. But at least it was something.

In the six months I worked there, I made $1600/month and my rent was $875. I cooked all my own food and when I went out to bars, I allowed myself one beer—a Pabst Blue Ribbon or Budweiser—whatever was cheaper. I loved it! I felt so alive. I worked four nights a week and spent my days biking through Golden Gate Park and the Presidio, exploring the neighborhoods and soaking in the architecture. “It takes money to have a good life,” the thought would pop up again. “No it doesn’t…well, not necessarily.” 

When I landed my first “real” job at an environmental nonprofit in mid-2010, I was making $43,000 a year. I felt positively rich. I could pay my rent, buy food, and even afford to buy other people drinks! The satisfaction of it was incredible.

The second hardest to let go of has been “To whom much has been given, much will be expected”. My Dad is a doctor. So are his brother and sister. And so are the spouses of his brother and sister. I often joke with friends that the unspoken rule of the Mee-Lee family was, “You can be anything you want…just make sure you’re the best!” 

The hardest part of this has been trying to fit what I love, what I genuinely care about, into something my father and family understands. If I’m truly honest with myself, these are my greatest ambitions:

• To walk as far and as deep down the path of Spiritual self-inquiry as possible. To become as free, peaceful, and full of love as I can possibly be.
• To express myself as freely as I can. To sing, to write, to speak, and to give as openly as I possibly can.
• To die with a smile on my face. Or, as a coach of mine said, “Don’t try to die happy Taylor. Try to die empty. Die empty, having given everything you wanted to.”

But it’s really not about having to fit these ambitions into something my father understands, but rather something I can love and accept myself. As I said earlier, I haven’t heard any of these phrases from him in over 20 years. The judge and jury lives inside me now. It has nothing to do with him. And so, even though I still get annoyed when I share an idea with him and one of the first things he asks is, “how are you gonna monetize that?”, I realize that the only part of me that gets annoyed by the question is the part of me that feels like I should know the answer.

When my Mom died four years ago, I thought that my source of unconditional love had died with her on that ICU bed. When my fiancee and I separated two years ago, I felt like my last source of feminine warmth and comfort was melting away. But what I have since discovered is the power of a simple phrase I often repeat to myself, particularly in tough moments when I feel scared, full of doubt, or in pain. I put one hand on my heart and the other on my belly and I tell myself, “I love you. I’m here. And I promise you I’ll never leave you, no matter what.” I love you. I’m here. And I’ll never leave you, no matter what. Isn’t that all we really want to hear anyway?

Because in addition to the many things my Dad told me that caused me pain and agony, there are many more that have lifted me up, inspired me, and shaped me into the man I am today. One of my favorites is this: “The only relationship you’ll for sure have for the rest of your life is with yourself. So make it a good one.”

Taylor Mee-Lee:

Taylor has just launched a newsletter and consultancy called “Die Smiling” (www.diesmiling.us). Future creations include month-long Career Realignment Retreats (coming 2024) and hosting writers and musicians in affordable cabin accommodations, allowing them to focus on their work with as little financial stress as possible. All of this will unfold on his 3-acre riverfront property in Costa Rica that he is currently developing.