Winning feels great, but we don’t learn much from it.
Why then do we spend so much time and expend so much effort controlling as many details as we can so we don’t fail? There is a fine but fuzzy line here, as to not apply all your grit towards a goal as you are expecting to fail won’t end well either.
Everyone loves Yoda, but “Do or do not, there is no try” seems counter to this as well.
Maybe it is less about failing, and more about simply leaning into your fear. Maybe fear is your compass for personal growth. This resonates with me, as I much prefer my inner voice to the unsolicited advice that others should be applying to themselves first. Pursuing my fears also pushes me from reading books and wishing….. To doing.
One week from now, I’ll be putting myself out there among some extremely talented glass and wood artisans at SEYMOUR. I’ve done this show twice before, so some early facets of fear are gone. This time we’re going all in on big pieces (with big $$$) which has me worried, as this area’s residents are not overflowing with extra cash.
Somehow I need to figure out how to get pieces into the hands of others without the consequence of out-pricing. I thought (and still might) about pricing a few pieces as ‘4% of your net monthly income’…maybe this would even out? How would I know people weren’t lying…I wouldn’t… and that overhead would be on them rather than me. Another idea is to make it based on a bid, where Saturday at 5pm this piece goes to the person with the highest offer. Assuming everyone that made a bid has the same amount to spend, this sort of works as well. A final idea is to just do a few fun giveaways. “The youngest person here at 11am can have this” and do “…the oldest…” at a different day or time.
My Dad and I know what sells here…$0.10 worth of glass, adhesive, and backs makes earrings that sell for $10 a pair. Is there a necessary investment in time, materials, and tools here, absolutely, and I’m thankful to have those skills now. Selling someone a pair of earrings doesn’t fill my heart with love and hope as presenting someone with a piece that is both incredibly beautiful and can’t be duplicated by anyone ever again.
Somewhere, there are people like me. Maybe they speak a different language. Maybe they don’t identify as he or she. Maybe they are in 6th grade, or maybe they are a CFO with a glassed corner office in Manhattan.
Real connection to ourselves and those around us is faltering, pushed out by living vicariously through others highlight reels. I want to feel those connections again, and maybe the fearful path to finding them depends on picking the ‘right’ price rather than the ‘highest’ price.