I have an addiction to books. I know, I could be addicted to a lot worse. The manifestation of this addiction is problematic in two ways:
1) I BUY all the books I read. (Library? What library?) This affects my finances and my storage issues.
2) I’m particularly addicted to self-help books.
I could open my own self-help bookstore…
My friend Kirby visited recently. He’s always intrigued by new little collections of books that sprout up around my house. The latest one was sitting unsuspectingly, minding its own business, on my kitchen breakfast bar/counter.
He spotted them. As soon as I followed his gaze and looked at the expression on his face, I knew what was next.
KIRBY: [with sarcastic, yet loving, tone] “Oh, good!! You’re discovering your strengths. [picks up another one off the pile] And you’re learning about how to make messages stick. You KNOW you could’ve written that one, darling. I’m so glad you have all these books to HELP you.”
ME: “I know, I know. I need to stay out of the self-help section. I keep thinking there’s something else I need to learn that can help me.”
And there it was. An “aha” moment that could grace the pages of O Magazine.
I’m the Advice Girl. I’m a go-to person for advice. It’s a shame I don’t follow my own.
I’m the Idea Girl. I have GREAT ideas. I’m just really bad at the follow-through where I actually make things happen, or finish something I’ve started.
And I’m the Excuse Girl. I’ve got a million of ‘em. Too tired. Not pretty enough. Not enough time. Not thin enough. No one will read my books (the four I started eight or ten years ago and haven’t finished). It’s just not an attainable goal.
What I realized is that I need to be The Nike Girl. The “Just Do It” Girl. I don’t need to learn any more about my strengths. I know what they are. And I know I have them. And I know I have everything I need (see kaleidoscope explanation in previous blog post). And now I know for sure (woo hoo – ANOTHER possible O Magazine page!) that I don’t need to HELP my self. I just need to BE my self. My complete self, whose very next task is to practice what I preach.
I’m not gonna lie to you. It’s kinda scary. If I practice what I preach, how far will it take me?