If you only read one email, make it this one!
I chose someone this week. I picked someone to take on a responsibility, and this person immediately said 'no thank you' and suggested someone else.
In the past, I might have expected a different response, but now I know what's coming. Over the years, I've asked quite a few people to step up and take on challenges, and they often have the same response. They say no because they don't believe they have the ability.
They say 'no' to keep themselves safe from the possibility of failure; the possibility of looking foolish; or the possibility of letting me down.
Sometimes people say yes, and at first they struggle with the challenge I've set them. In these cases, they want to give up. "I can't do this" they say as they throw up their hands.
But I won't accept the 'no' and I won't accept the "I can't do this" without a fight. Because I wouldn't have asked if I didn't KNOW they could do it. I wouldn't have asked if I didn't see all their amazing potential.
I see people this way now. I look at people and see all their unlimited potential. But I also see all the ways they are holding themselves back. I see their stories and limiting beliefs and excuses. I don't judge, because we all have our own versions, but I do see them.
The person is sitting in front of me and as they speak, I see their limiting beliefs are twining around them, like snakes, or being written in the air above their head.
Yesterday I spoke to a wonderful, talented, brilliant artist who told me, very confidently, just how limited she was. She stated it in several different ways throughout the conversation, but all I could see was her genius.
As she said "I can never be that good" or implied that she knows her limits, I felt the constriction in my own body. She already IS that good and she's wrong about her limits.
But I get it, because we all have these sorts of beliefs - we all fail to see our own limitless potential and we all tell ourselves stories about why we can't have or do or be the thing we want.
This came home to me strongly this week when I attended the funeral of a close friend. Dave was the kindest man you could ever meet and he died at only 61, just weeks after receiving a cancer diagnosis. The loss feels immense.
I have known Dave for over 30 years. We've had days out together, attended concerts together, eaten meals together, and shared journeys together. More recently, he and his wife Deb supported me through some very tough times. Dave was always there with advice or with practical assistance, or just as a companion for a lovely pub meal. He was like that for everyone - like I said, he was the kindest person I knew.
He was also one of the most honest people I knew. Dave was always, fully, himself. He didn't care about fashion, he had no interest in shiny things, and wouldn't thank you for a swanky car. He passionately loved Bruce Springsteen and Manchester City - in fact, he was passionate about everything, for or against. He had an opinion about literally everything and he would always share it vociferously!
And now he's not there and he has left an enormous hole. Because it matters when we share all of ourselves, authentically. It matters when we shine our light, whatever our particular light looks like. But we can't do that if we are holding ourselves back because of perceived limitations. We can't do it if we are telling ourselves all the things we can't do, or shouldn't try.
I'm going to miss Dave so much, but he has spurred me on to push even more for everyone to shine their own particular light. I want you to make your own particular work, whatever it looks like. I want you to accept the show or the gallery invite or the opportunity to show in a local exhibition. I want you to take the job or start the business or put your art up for sale or open up that gallery you've always dreamed of.
And I won't stop pushing you beyond what you think is possible, because I know it is and we need your light.
RIP Dave xx