Authenticity

I just sat next to my younger sister while she spoke with a famous, rich and powerful person and told this lady what she wanted from her. Lily, out of nowhere, said something like, "I want to be involved in one of your projects, from beginning to end and partner with you creatively." They talked for an hour and a half and Lily got what she wanted. And the entire time, I was really thirsty and too shy to get up and ask the famous lady for a glass of water.

While I was absorbing my younger sister's boldness and observing its affect on the famous woman, I saw two things. I saw the lady's face become flustered and red, as if she were being pushed... where she finally hit against her own place of brutal honesty. The result of two women talking about their wants and boundaries so directly, is that in one hour, an understanding was reached that might have taken years to find through "polite," comfortable, expected, unauthentic ways. The second thing I saw was, behind the flustered blush, a growing shining-eyed respect for the tenacious young one. I saw thoughts fly across her face like, "If she asks this of me, she may ask what she needs from absolutely everyone, and that means she gets what she wants." and "If she's this powerful at 20, what is she going to be when she's my age..." Lily invited and created, out of nothing but her own personal power, a mentor relationship, powerful networking introductions and a potential job.

It made me rememeber all the times I have gone to people in powerful positions (business school faculty, potential customers of my ventures, etc.), selling something or asking for something. I have never asked for what I wanted. I have had the approach of: this is what I'm doing, this is why its working, and this is why its good for you to support it. I guess that's less personal: I'm talking to you because you are the chair of the foundation I want money from, not because you are the person you are. That's not authentic. What if I'd gone to Dr. Butler as a business school freshman and, instead of selling my idea and showing how it aligned with the mission on the plaque on his wall said, "I'm Sarah Moore. I want to start an entrepreneur society so that I can learn and grow as an entrepreneur and I want you to give me money and contacts." That was the authentic thing to say. The way I did it, I think it took me three 45 minute meetings to get my money.

Being authentic means being exposed, that's why it's so damn scary. But I want to start trying to do it. I think I'd have more time and more brain space if I stopped worrying how people would react, if I stopped trying to find the most diplomatic words and ways of twisting what I want into "how it's good for them," so that I can feel less vulnerable.

About a month ago, a guy at a gas station asked me for some money for gas --he needed to get somewhere and didn't have any money. Well, ok. I put 5 bucks in his tank. At least two others gave him 5 bucks. The man did nothing but arrive --pennyless, and ask for what he needed. He drove away with gas in his tank and got to where he wanted to go.

Powerful stuff.

The Beginning of a Blog

My life is fascintaing. It needs its own blog. My life is full of heros and battles and adventures.

The characters in my adventurous life are my family: parents and sisters and neices and nephew and cousins and aunts and grandfather and uncles and I have close unique individual realtionships with each one.
(My nephew, Alex and I skiing in New Mexico)

Some of my adventures are with myself... for example, I am trying to write a novel. I am taking creative writing classes, but I find that anytime I think that I wrote something good, I clam up in cold fear. As Nelson Mandela said, "It is not our darkness, but our light that frightens us." I will keep fighting and try to overcome.

I am in search of a bit of land. I have searched far and wide and I know that somewhere, there is a small bit of land, secluded but convenient with a few beautiful trees and soil ready for gardening. I know this land is just waiting for me to find it, and when I do, I will build the most beautiful magical little cottage out of mud (cob).

And lastly, I am waiting for my love. He is so far away and has been for a long time and I am waiting for him. It is so difficult to live with a heart that is beating in two places. His visa was already rejected once. I will think it such an unfair atrocity if silly lines and silly badges will threaten to prevent him from seeing the others I love and the place that created me. If all fails, we will gather us in Mexico.


(Jayda, Jayme and I working on our new beach cabin)