I’m so excited you’ll be joining me for...
By now you should have an email from me with all the workshop details (plus a few extras, because that’s kind of how I roll).
Didn’t get the email? Be sure to check your spam folder, and if you still can’t find it, drop us an email at [email protected] and we’ll get you sorted.
Don't let FOMO catch you off-guard--go check your email, the link for the workshop is waiting for you.
(There's a limited amount of time to watch, so you're going to want to hop on this ASAP).
Have less FOMO and more "hmm, I don't know?"
Well, my new internet friend, keep on reading…
The Story I’m Telling Myself
about all the reasons you won’t actually watch the workshop
“I can’t get away with shit with you,” my client remarked to me this morning, in half dismay, half delight.
And it’s true. As Rogerian as I may seem on the surface, in me lives a chain-smoking Perls, desperately trying to work through my own shit and covering it up with a boundary pushing exterior.
Your desire to build a full caseload is clearly in the foreground (I mean you did sign up for the workshop after all), but my endless curiosity wonders what is in the background.
All that noise?
It’s going to get in your way of showing up.
Oh, it may have an innocuous reason (like you forget to put it on your calendar or an unavoidable client emergency arises), but the primary gain will be to maintain the status quo of...
making too little money,
working too much, and
never getting what you need or want.
I’m not Perls, and you’re not Gloria, but I think I can still hear you saying:
“This reminds me of when I was a student in grad school, unseasoned and scared, trying to figure out how to survive when I graduated.”
To which I ask, “but are you still a student?”
“Well, no, but it’s still the same feeling,” you respond.
“But are you still unseasoned and scared?” I puzzle aloud, curious in a way that makes the back of your neck itch.
“No, no—aw, fuck it. Yes, but I don’t want to be.” you say exasperatedly, wishing I’d just hear what was under the surface without you having to say it outloud.
Confounding and delighting you, I sigh in relief, “A yes, at last.”
My client was right. I’m committed to not overlooking the ways people aim to deceive themselves.
So let’s close the loop and I’ll tell you how I responded to this morning’s client.
(It’s the same thing I want to say to you):
“it’s time to stop avoiding the obvious and tell me really: what’s keeping you stuck?”
What’s keeping you stuck?
Are you up for doing the hard thing?
