A Community Project by Kerstin Martin

ASKING FOR IMPOSSIBLE THINGS October 2019 CONTRIBUTORS

1. Eli Trier ...... page 3 2. Karen CL Anderson ...... page 6 3. Jonathan Tilley ...... page 10 4. Kerstin Martin (Part 1) ...... page 14 5. Tara Leaver ...... page 17 6. Crys Wood ...... page 22 7. Anna Lovind ...... page 30 8. Shauna Reid ...... page 34 9. Kerstin Martin (Part 2) ...... page 38 10. Patricia Houghton Clarke ...... page 41 11. Madelyn Mulvaney ...... page 45 12. Christine Mason Miller ...... page 49 13. Angie Mizzell ...... page 52 14. Kerstin Martin (Part 3) ...... page 55 15. Sophy Dale ...... page 58 16. Valerie Day ...... page 62 17. Julia Barnickle ...... page 68

Page 2 of 72

Eli Trier 1

Asking for impossible things starts with learning how to receive.

"Daring is doing. Daring is asking something outrageous despite your chances of failure and rejection. Daring is going out on a limb by believing in something that no one else understands, and if all fails, daring is trying again." –Bibi Bourelly

One of the most fundamental parts of community is give and take. A beautiful flow of mutual reciprocity that nurtures everyone.

As natural business coach Julie Wolk says: ”Just like an ecosystem, your business thrives in a diverse web of interrelated beings helping each other out over the long-term.”

However, for a lot of people (particularly women - myself included), the 'take' part of this equation gets lost. Our feminine conditioning gets us tangled up, and we struggle to take, to ask for help, to state our needs and to speak up when they aren't being met. We can't even take a simple compliment, preferring to bat it away like a wasp at a picnic.

Page 3 of 72 I have been making a conscious effort this year to break this habit in myself, and oh my, it has made life so much more fun and pleasurable!

I started by taking compliments, receiving them with a smile and a thank you instead of my usual tirade of exactly why the person complimenting me was sorely mistaken.

Then I moved up a level to stating my preferences.

For example, when someone asked, 'where shall we meet', I would suggest a meeting place that suited me, rather than my default answer of, 'I don't mind, wherever's easiest for you.'

I've slowly challenged myself to learn how to receive gracefully, and I'm understanding more and more that asking for help is a gift to the person you ask. It's a gift because it shows that you trust them, that you value them, that they matter to you. It gives them an opportunity to be your hero.

Giving feels good! We all know this, which is why we give, give, give all the time. But have you ever stopped to think that by only giving you're depriving someone of the pleasure of giving to you?

I'm now on level 10: asking for impossible things, and it is so much fun. It's almost easier to ask for impossible things because it's really hard to get attached to the outcome.

The most wonderful thing about asking people for impossible things is that sometimes they say YES.

Want to work with someone amazing but can't afford them? Ask if they have a scholarship programme or a payment plan they don't

Page 4 of 72 publicise. Want that super high-profile person to share your latest blog post? Tell them about it and ask for a share. Want to be on that insanely popular podcast even though you only have 46 followers and have only been in business for five minutes? Fuck it, why not ask? You never know when someone might say yes.

Whatever it is that you want, even it seems completely impossible, try ASKING for it before you list all the reasons why you can never have it (oh, and to clarify, I do mean ask the actual person who can give it to you, not just the universe).

And when they do say yes, accept and receive graciously - don't tell them how wrong their yes was and how they'll regret it.

Never be afraid to ask - hearing a no won’t kill you, and in fact, the more ‘no’s’ you hear, the less they hurt (and the less you care).

Please consider this your permission slip to ask for whatever you want, no matter how impossible it may seem, or how many reasons you think of that you’ll be denied. Allow people the gift of surprising and delighting you with their generosity.

Finally, if you’re still stuck on the idea of guilt-free, joyful receiving, think of it this way: the more you get the more you can give - woohoo!

Page 5 of 72 Eli Trier lives in the wonderful city of Copenhagen, Denmark and is a community builder for Quiet Revolutionaries.

She helps introverts with big dreams to get connected and build thriving, engaged communities around their businesses, so that they can make a massive impact, find their dream clients, and make their corner of the world a better place.

A long-time business owner, Eli knows first-hand the power of human connection to build a business, and her unique approach got her featured in The FT Guide to Business Networking. She specialises in creating powerful, strategic online community projects and loves every minute of her work (even the boring bits).

When she's not working you can find her curled up with a book, painting, or hanging out with her husband Lars. https://elitriercommunities.com/

Karen CL Anderson 2

When I wrote my second book, I worked with a “hybrid” publisher who tasked me with asking for “advance praise” from other authors

Page 6 of 72 and experts. Number one on my list was Dr. Christiane Northrup, New York Times best-selling of author of Mother-Daughter Wisdom (and many other wonderful books on women’s health).

I was excited because I had a bit of history with her. About 10 years prior, I interviewed Dr. Northrup in advance of an appearance she made locally. She was warm and friendly and spent a lot more time with me on the phone than I expected.

Unfortunately I hadn’t saved her phone number or email address, so I reached out to her via her website’s “contact” form. I don’t remember exactly what I said, but it was a rather tepid effort, partly because I wasn’t sure if anyone would see it, much less respond, and partly because I didn’t know how to make a clear ask – and I didn’t know that I didn’t know.

Not to mention that I was breathless and terrified, having put Dr. Northrup on a pedestal underneath which I was groveling (okay, that’s a bit of an exaggeration, but it makes a point).

A few days later I received a cordial “thank you, but no” from her assistant.

The “no” from Dr. Northrup stung. I was disappointed. Crushed. Even though I knew better, it reinforced all my “I’m not good enough” thoughts. And to be honest, while I was grateful for the advance praise I received from other authors and experts, my disappointment overshadowed my gratitude.

When the eBook was released (via Kindle), it quickly became a “best seller” thanks to my publisher knowing how to keep Amazon’s algorithms happy. At that point, I decided to go ahead and release a paperback version…and to approach Dr. Northrup again.

Page 7 of 72 This time, I had her assistant’s email – and a new level of belief in myself and my work. My second request was enthusiastic, detailed, and forthright.

Within a few days, I had Dr. Northrup’s endorsement.

Since then, for other books, I’ve reached out to Oprah Winfrey, Brené Brown, Elizabeth Gilbert, and many others for advance praise (and have gotten lots of no’s and some yes’s).

As well, I’ve had authors reach out to me to review their books and provide advance praise, which I’ve done with pleasure.

But that’s not the point.

What I learned (and continue to learn) is that “yes’s” don’t make me and “no’s” don’t break me and that putting people on pedestals is not the same thing as respecting them when asking for something.

When asking for impossible things, my advice is to follow these simple guidelines, created by my friend and mentor Tanya Geisler: “when making an ask, be sure it’s reasonable, specific, brief, respectful, confident, and authentic.”

Reasonable: would you be willing to return the favor?

Specific: does it have a beginning, middle, and end? Be clear about exactly what the ask entails.

Brief: be mindful of their time by providing only as much context is required.

Respectful: be sure the request honors their gifts and talents.

Page 8 of 72 Confident: if there is any wishy-washiness, you may need to revisit the who, what, when, or why and adjust accordingly.

Authentic: connect with the essence of who you are and be clear about how this request is in full service to you.

If you’d like to read the second request I made to Dr. Northrup’s assistant, send me an email: [email protected]

Karen C.L. Anderson helps women take a compassionate look at the troubled relationships they have with their mothers and/or daughters and guides them to reveal patterns, heal shame, and transform legacies.

She is the author of Difficult Mothers, Adult Daughters, A Guide For Separation, Liberation & Inspiration (March 2018) and the upcoming guided journal, The Difficult Mother-Daughter Relationship Journal: A Guide For Revealing & Healing Toxic Generational Patterns (January, 2020). https://www.kclanderson.com

Page 9 of 72

Jonathan Tilley 3

Suzanne wrote “TED Talk” on the piece of paper then turned it 180 degrees for me to read. Despair, frustration, waaaaay over my head… just a few of the millions of emotions that filled my entire body. “How are you feeling?” she asked. “Excited and scared,” I said as I underplayed all the other emotions.

Tesz turned to me and said, “You’ve got this”.

She always had a way of seeing my vision clearer than I ever could and believing in it 1000 times more than I ever did. The three of us were in Berlin doing our own little mastermind. It was Sunday, we were at brunch, and for the most part I was fine. I had everything under control until it got to me. After all, that was the point of the weekend in Berlin - to help each other get closer to our big scary goals.

Suzanne wanted to work less and workout more. Tesz wanted to write a book. I wanted to do a TED Talk. And we needed each other to move the needle.

Page 10 of 72 I said to the ladies, “you know… I read that if you give your goal an ultimatum that is totally against your moral compass you wind up getting to your goal faster.” They looked at me like I was speaking Swahili. “OK let me give you an example.” I knew what my big scary goal was but what was one thing that made my stomach churn out of pure disgust. “Alright I’ve got it. I will do a TED Talk within one year or I will do a talk for the Ku Klux Klan.”

They both gasped. “Wait WHAT?!” “You CAN’T!”

Rolling my eyes I said, “you know me, I would never do a talk in front of a bunch of racists. But that’s exactly the point. I’m giving my big scary goal an ultimatum. If I don’t reach my goal within one year, I have to do something so dramatic that feels like torture that it will force me to do the thing that I really want to do instead.” They nodded. They got it. Then they filmed me saying it as social proof. No turning back now!

Once they finished recording me I flipped the camera on them and said, “ok your turn.”

Suzanne started to blush. She looked into my iPhone camera and said, “I will work less and work out more and lose a few pounds within one year. And if I don’t I have to walk down my street naked.”

I stopped recording. She squealed. Her face was blood red. We were onto something.

Tesz steeled herself. She was up next. I turned the iPhone camera on her. “I’ll write a book within one year or I will… or I’ll… I’LL JUMP OUT OF A PLANE!”

Page 11 of 72 The entire restaurant stopped eating and turned to look at her. She got so excited she screamed out her ultimatum disrupting everyone else’s Sunday brunch.

We giggled like schoolchildren and then watched our video manifestos multiple times over. We flew back home, did laundry, got settled in for the week ahead motivated beyond belief.

Monday came around and I felt dread take over my body. What did I actually promise myself to do?! How the hell could I get out of it!?! Well, I knew the only way out of it would be to don a pointy white hat with two eye holes and that was something I definitely would not do. So the only alternative was to apply to be a speaker for TED Stuttgart. I’d been on the site millions of times staring blankly at the contact form. Now I needed to take action and apply to be a speaker. I looked for all of the distractions - Facebook, play some music, walk the dog, call a friend, run stupid errands… but I knew that the alternative was so drastic and vile I wanted to get to my big scary goal as soon as possible. The dog would have to wait. for his walk. I was going to apply to be a speaker at TED!

It took me only 15 minutes to fill out the application. Talk about anticlimactic. Where was the standing ovation and confetti?

Afterwards I was free to run the errands and get on with my business. And two days later they invited me to the office for a meet and greet. I worked with them to finalise my talk. And less than 4 months after the Berlin mastermind I was on stage giving my TED Talk “What Creativity Is Trying To Tell You”.

Since then my talk has been the spring board for my public speaking career and a mission statement for all that I stand for. It has inspired

Page 12 of 72 hundreds of thousands of creatives to turn thoughts into things and share their talent with the world.

Since then Tesz wrote the book and Suzanne lost the weight. And like me, we all did it within 6 months or less.

So trick yourself into doing something that you really want to do and if you don’t do it then you have to do something you really don’t want to do. Give your big scary goal an ultimatum that is totally against your moral compass. Who knows, you may wind up getting to your goal faster than you ever thought.

Jonathan Tilley is a former dancer and voice over artist turned personal brand strategist who helps creative people and independent businesses shine online and share their talent with the world. He develops and delivers online courses that teach creatives about branding and marketing in an entertaining way - perfect for how the creative mind works. https://www.jonathantilley.com/

Page 13 of 72

Kerstin Martin (Part 1) 4

Here is my dream: to have my Eule business planner published by Leuchtturm under their Leuchtturm1917 brand!

For those of you who don’t know, Leuchtturm is a German company (Leuchtturm means lighthouse) and one of the leading producers of high quality stationary in the world. The Bullet Journal by Ryder Carroll, for instance, is exclusively available from Leuchtturm1917.

I want the same for the Eule Planner! There. I said it.

I’ve been using Leuchtturm journals for years and their quality is exceptional. Now, I really appreciate my printer in Ohio and what they’ve been able to do for me at a very affordable price point given the low volume of my first print runs. I am very happy with the quality of my current Eule planner and I love it. Alas, it’s not a Leuchtturm1917.

I shared this dream with Eli when we started preparing for this community project and she said “Why not approach Leuchtturm and make that your big ask as part of this project?”

Page 14 of 72 Oh sure. That immediately felt a little too impossible to me and I quickly came up with a solid list of reservations as to why this was a bad idea and would never work! Here they are:

Am I too small? Will Leuchtturm even consider working with someone like me who only has a modest social media footprint? Ryder Carroll already had a huge following when he approached Leuchtturm in 2014.

Am I too late? There are so many planner companies already (I went down quite the rabbit hole once I started researching this) who have been doing this successfully for years. It’s a crowded market and I worry that I’ve missed the boat and that no-one is going to notice or be interested in my little Eule planner.

Am I being disloyal? My printer company in Ohio has been great to me considering that I am starting out with such low print volumes. Other companies wanted $60-$70 per planner but with my Ohio printer I was able to sell the 2019 edition for only $35 and still make a profit. The people there are super nice and I feel terrible about not including them in my planner growth strategy.

Am I too old? Who am I kidding, right? I am 56 and surely don’t have the energy for yet another big entrepreneurial project!

Am I complicating a good thing? I already have a thriving business with my Squarespace courses, why make it more complex by adding a retail element to a purely digital business?

Can I handle a No? This is such a big dream of mine that a No would most likely devastate me, right?

Page 15 of 72 Who do I think I am? I know nothing about publishing and I’m undoubtedly biting off way more than I can chew.

See what I am doing here?

Doubting myself. Making assumptions. Speaking from a place of fear.

This is the trifecta of good reasons to not ask for impossible things!

If there is one thing I have learned over the last five years of growing a successful online business it is to feel the fear and doubts and do it anyway!

So that’s what I shall do.

Over the next couple of weeks I will reach out to Leuchtturm and find out what the process is for submitting a proposal and then do that. I sure hope there is a process! I have my doubts but I will give it a sincere effort and I expect that in the very least I will learn a thing or two along the way.

I look forward to taking you along with me on this journey!

Kerstin Martin is a Squarespace expert and educator with a proven track record of helping more than 1,000 entrepreneurs thrive in their online businesses. She is also the creator of the Eule Planner, an analog business planner specifically designed for digital entrepreneurs.

https://kerstinmartin.com/

Page 16 of 72

Tara Leaver 5

“Nothing is impossible, the word itself says ‘I’m possible’!” Audrey Hepburn

When Kerstin asked me to contribute to her fantastically named community project, I cycled through a few ideas and found that I kept coming up against something.

That something is, I don’t actually believe in impossible things any more. And I’ve found that even the things that feel impossible are often not as far out of our reach as we believe them to be. We just have to manoeuvre into place in order to be able to access them. {I know, I make it sound so easy. ;)}

We each have a context - personal history, beliefs, habits, family stories, culture, education, upbringing - that offers information about what’s possible for us. Not truth, necessarily, but information that can definitely feel like truth.

Within my context, making a living as an artist was not on the table.

University was inevitable. Marriage and kids and a recognisable job title were a given. Everything was a matter of not if, but when. I

Page 17 of 72 chafed the whole time against the expectations, but I bowed to them too, and eventually under the weight of them as long term clinical depression settled in.

So there I was, in my life context, seeing walls everywhere; no doors, no light. And yet now, as I type, any remaining walls are so low I can step over them, there’s no place for doors, and there’s light everywhere. And, there’s no husband, no kids, no degree, and a job title that doesn’t fit in any mainstream boxes.

Looking back over the past two years, I see nothing but ‘impossible' things.

Things that for most of my life were what other people got; experiences and feelings and events that I would never know. I genuinely believed that there were some things I would simply never have because of who and how I am.

How does that happen? How do you go from impossible to possible? How do you learn not only that you can ask for the impossible, but you can learn how to ask in such a way that the walls dissolve and the supposedly impossible sits in your hand.

I’d so love to offer a definitive answer to those questions! When I look at it myself it’s kind of slippery.

The journey from bedridden despair to fulfilled thriving was long, complex, and not at all a straight line for me. Healing is a 3D process rather than a linear trajectory, annoyingly. For me it involved a combination of long term therapy and medication that ultimately didn’t heal me although they gave language and exterior legitimacy to my condition. Then came the energy work - Tai Chi, Reiki master

Page 18 of 72 status, a healer and mentor, and rediscovering myself as a creative being.

Creativity is the opposite of depression, in my experience. While depression is a dead end, creativity is infinite doorways. And those infinite doorways are proof that there is no impossible.

People sometimes look at my life now and call me lucky. Honestly? I don’t love that. Apart from not believing in luck, it is all too easy to look in from the outside and see only the now, not the years of building beneath it. I’m not so different from anyone else; we all have contexts and struggles and pain and the wobbly line of healing to contend with. We all have our own ‘impossible’ things.

For me, the perspective that makes the most sense when it comes to impossible things, is that of alignment.

The more out of alignment you are with yourself, and the more you’re trying to align with what’s around you - the expectations of others, the cultural norms - instead of what’s inside you, the more impossible things you see.

As I gradually found greater and more constant alignment with who I am, in truth {not who I thought I was - which turned out to be way off! - or who I was trying to be to match outside expectations}, the less I saw or believed in impossible things.

I’m mentally very healthy now, but sometimes certain things still seem ‘huge’, or I feel keenly aware of a long journey between where I am now and where I perceive them to exist. But that’s just a story, when it comes down to it. A story that can be told in extended struggle or in baby steps, trust, and focused action.

Page 19 of 72 I have some impossible things in my life right now.

A newly renovated cottage by the sea in a place my soul calls home. Rich, meaningful, free flowing relationships. A small business making my art and helping people with theirs. And as of last month, my own art studio at the bottom of the garden.

All of those things seemed - or would have seemed, if I’d even thought of them - 100% impossible just a few years ago. Things for someone else, in another life.

I admit I am astonished almost daily by the impossibility of my life, for the person I thought I was for thirty odd years. But finding and becoming the person I actually am is what brought this life into the realms of possibility. It’s not always easy to find your way into sustainable alignment with yourself, immersed in context as we are, but it isn’t impossible.

I can’t really reduce the journey into five easy steps, unfortunately! {Or fortunately?!} But I can offer some things to consider if you’re feeling daunted by your own impossible things right now.

Thoughts are compelling. Begin to pay attention to your repetitive thought habits, especially when it comes to certain topics, and see where they’re telling you stories of limitation and lack. Even if like me you’re not convinced by the efficacy of affirmations or mantras on their own, recalibrating what you’re telling yourself is key to starting to see the world differently and allowing new things in.

Ask for help. This is crucial, and for many of us often the hardest thing. I remember the day I told my mum I needed help, because I knew in my bones I

Page 20 of 72 wouldn’t survive otherwise. Opening that door led me here - circuitously to be sure, but not being willing to do the vulnerable difficult thing and ask for support - for what actually comes naturally to humans to give and receive - closes doors to what’s possible more effectively than you might imagine. On top of that, people love to be helpful! Let them!

Baby steps. Achieving smaller impossible things builds courage, confidence and trust towards asking for larger impossible things. Baby steps is how I do anything. Baby steps and lashings of kindness. {And asking for help!}

Focus on alignment. This is only something I see in retrospect, but by focusing on getting well and coming into alignment with myself, instead of things seeming impossible now, they might at the most seem difficult. But because I know myself and I have an understanding of energy and how alignment works, I know that if I really desire something, I’ll find a way to it.

Impossible is just a word. Once we’ve seen that, and start to embrace the idea of taking small steps over time, and reaching out to connect with those who can help us, the doors of the world start appearing and opening all over the place.

I'm Tara, an artist, teacher, and creative encourager living in Cornwall in the UK. I make and sell mixed media paintings on wood panel inspired by my obsession with sea swimming, and I offer practical, fun, process oriented online

Page 21 of 72 courses that guide you to confidence, clarity and freedom of expression in your art.

Twice a month I send out Artnotes with stories and insights from my life as an artist to support and encourage you in yours. https://taraleaver.com/

Crys Wood 6

All our prayers are answered; it’s just that sometimes the answer is No.

When my cat died after 19 years of steadfast companionship, I said he was my last pet, and I savored what a relief that would be – no more litter box, no more vet bills, no more hairballs...

I loved my Suzu, and he was dear to me, but who needs the hassles? I was better off without a fur-baby, I said, and I truly, firmly, sincerely believed that.

For oh, say … two weeks.

Then a series of strategic miracles led me to the new love of my life, Horidashimono, my lucky find – Momo for short.

Page 22 of 72 And I gotta tell ya, life with a 1-year-old kitten is noooothing like life with a 19-year-old cat. My old boi had mellowed so very nicely over the years. He’d become placid, relished his quiet comforts, and couldn’t hop higher than a chair seat.

But in Suzu’s pawprints followed this lively little lunatic who’s fit and agile, interested in and excited by everything, prowls the house looking for adventure, and climbs to the highest point in any room to keep a vigilant eye on his domain. And also nap.

Which means I said a helluvalotta NOs to Momo in these first months together. I still say it, and so does he.

I scoop him off the kitchen counter and put him back on the floor – No, Momo. He scratches and thumps on the closed bathroom door – No, Mama. I push him away when he plays too rough with his teeth and claws – No, Momo. He pushes me away when I scratch or rub him too hard or too long or in the wrong place – No, Mama.

And slowly, surely, we’ve acknowledged and adapted to the other’s boundaries, preferences, and moods. It’s been the Summer of Twelve Thousand NOs, but never once did I feel rejected by him, or he by me – we’re cozily snuggled in my bed as I write this, as we are every morning.

Our NOs were never personal. They would’ve been the same for anyone or anything who behaved the same way. We knew ourselves, so they were neutral, and we were new to each other, so they were necessary.

And for all the Nos that shaped the road to comfortably sharing our space and time, everything else between earth and sky, from sea to shining sea, was a YES.

Page 23 of 72 Yes, you can sit on my lap. Yes, you can scratch behind my ears. Yes, you can nap with me. Yes, I’d love to play. I’d love a treat from you. I’d love a hug from you. I’d love to receive your love.

Waking up to ready love is a miracle I appreciate every day.

Because I know what it’s like to live with someone and without love.

I know of rejection that is unquestionably personal, of delivering affection that’s unwanted and dismissed, of being taken care of without being cared for or cared about, of wasted and squandered emotion.

My (step)father didn’t love me, and that affected and directed my choices for 40 of my 50 years.

To be fair, it’s likely that he doesn’t really and can’t quite love anyone, but that’s the realization of a middle-aged woman after a decade of therapy and thoughtful recollection.

As a child, as a teen, as a twenty-something, I didn’t have the facts or the focus to absorb that. All I knew was that fathers are supposed to love their daughters, and he loved my (half-)sister, but he didn’t love me. My mother said that he did, but I think that was wishful thinking. I don’t recall him ever saying so.

I do remember him giving me a heap of chrysanthemums for my 16th birthday, and a snazzy red Honda scooter to help me get around campus. I remember him scooping me up and racing to the hospital when I gashed my preteen knee, and then holding my hand with tears in his eyes while they stitched me up.

And I remember other things, too…

Page 24 of 72 I remember being berated about the lone B on report cards filled with As.

I remember him shaking his head with disgust while saying, “Looking at you makes me sick.”

I remember a regular routine of little things, things so small and subtle they’re indescribable, but they were no less impactful.

I remember his browbeating lectures with their unanswerable questions, and never once being asked what I thought or wanted or needed or felt.

I remember my younger sister, his real, true blood-kin daughter, getting away with just about anything and getting almost everything she asked for and much that she didn’t.

Her, he hugged and held and smiled at and listened to and bought clothes for. Her, he praised and enjoyed and supported and adored.

And me? Not so much.

I remember him having some windfall and giving each of us children a big chunk of money. Everyone got the same amount – except me, the only stepchild, who got exactly half as much.

I remember every time I called home from college and got something next to nothing – he’d say Hello, I’d say, Hi, It’s Crystal, and he would say … nothing … nothing … nothing.

He’d leave me hanging by his brittle, brutal silence for five seconds … ten seconds … twenty. I’d blink first and ask to speak to my mom, and he’d string me up again for five seconds … ten seconds …

Page 25 of 72 twenty. And then, at last, he’d hand her the phone, all without saying another word.

I remember the day I stopped calling home. I remember the day I stopped calling it Home.

I remember when he left my mother and called all his children to explain, affirm, and console – all his children except me.

I remember the gifts he brought that next Christmas: a computer for N—, a car for R—, and a daughter-daddy ski trip for S—. And for me? There was nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Looking back, it’s like he never wasted an opportunity to show me that I was unworthy of connection, attention, and affection … or even everyday politeness and courtesy. I wasn’t good enough and never would be.

He never said the words, but it’s not as if he had to.

I remember him being friendly, nice, and kind when my mother or others were around. He was a different man when there were witnesses. His actions, his reactions, and his true feelings – they were things to hide when he could and lie about it when he couldn’t, and that left no doubt in my mind.

He was the only father I’d ever known and the only father I would ever have, and I desperately wanted, desperately needed his love.

But, apparently, that was too much to ask.

Page 26 of 72 Later, I’d hear tell that it hadn’t always been that way. I’d hear that his monster of a mother had verbally shamed him for taking care of this other man’s child. She mocked and sneered at his sense of responsibility, his loyalty, his efforts at love.

Which was absurd, coming from her, as I also heard that she abandoned him to his grandfather so she could go about her life untethered, unbothered, unburdened. And that she cultivated her proud career and shining reputation while her child suffered the parenting of a bitter and sullen old man.

My stepfather was a first-class asshole – and I expect he still is – but, to his credit, at least he was there, and he often tried. He didn’t have the requisite skills for the job, but he always showed up for work.

Later, I’d learn that he was (and likely still is) an alcoholic of epic proportions.

Later, I’d hear that he could be similarly unkind to his own kids.

Later, I’d see that I am loveable, that I can be loved, and that I am loved, just as I am – and that I am and always have been plenty goddamned good enough.

And later, with help, I’d recognize how it’s impossible for someone to give you what they don’t have, especially when it’s the very thing that they hunger for, shield themselves from, and feel they don’t deserve.

My (step)father was an exceptional executive and a stellar breadwinner, but he harbors a sad and angry soul, his occasional kindnesses outdone by his continuous, casual cruelty.

He didn’t love me, alas, and thank God.

Page 27 of 72 He was, as it’s said, the rock we all broke ourselves upon. He’s in his 80s now, and part of his legacy is a trail of shattered marriages, rocky relationships, and five children who are either in therapy or should be.

All his children stick to him out of loyalty – except me. My history with him made it that much easier to sever all contact and set myself free. They call him, visit him, check in, and bring gifts, but from me, for the past 10 years, he’s got nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

And now, in the sanity of that 10-year silence, I wonder at my childhood years of yearning, so hungry for something that wasn’t on the menu, something that poisoned everyone else who had it.

Yet, I stayed hungry for a father’s love, that stuff of myth and legend – the warm affection and deep connection that’s sturdy and robust, earnest and honest, unconditional, unshakable, unbreakable.

I spent my 20s, 30s, and 40s looking for that love in All The Men, and it’s just as well that I never found it in them, because, eventually, at last, with nowhere else left to look, I sought it in myself.

It took a long time and a good bit of help, but I came across it one day. I’d looked all over from coast to coast, across the waters, to hell and back, and there it was within me – never lost, and yet found, and shining like new money.

Page 28 of 72 In boundless abundance, and in the last place I looked, I met that love I’d longed for. Smiling and then laughing, it was delighted to see me. And it didn’t even mind all the waiting.

Crys Wood believes in the power and the promise of words – in whatever format and wherever we find them. With that belief, her varied education, training, and experience have followed the growth of new media (and social media) as she’s helped her clients get the word out through blogging, podcasts, ebooks, workbooks, online courses, and video captions.

She’s a writer, too, and secretly posts memoiric essays to her Facebook Friends and Patreon subscribers. Her first online writing workshop, RE«MIND, attracted 70 writers from 10 countries over 4 continents. She lives quietly in Big Sky Country with Mr. Montana, Momo the Magnificent, her inner voices named Moi and Mimi, and stacks and stacks of books that she hasn’t had one minute to read. https://cryswood.com/

Page 29 of 72

Anna Lovind 7

If you're never rejected, you're not reaching far enough!

As a creative entrepreneur, everything is about asking. Asking myself to be willing to do the work, asking the Muse to come play with me, asking life to hold me as I try my wings. And the scary part: asking other people. Asking them to support my work, to share my work, to buy what I sell, to read my words, to come to my retreats and so on.

It’s all very uncomfortable. Some of it is terrifying. But since it’s an inevitable part of the work, I’ve found my way to deal with it.

And no, my way is not about being bold and fearless. Quite the opposite. My way is about finding and cultivating safety.

Safety is probably the most underestimated factor in a thriving life. It doesn’t fit with the mythology of the fearless artist or the daring entrepreneur. Bothering about safety is seen as the antithesis of a big bold life.

Well, I bother about it a lot. Because you know what? You can’t even access the part of the brain where this big bold thinking happens if you’re not experiencing at least a basic level of safety.

Page 30 of 72 To put it very simply, our brains can be divided into three main areas of function: the instinctual brain; the social/emotional brain; and the executive brain. Bear with me as I get into specifics here, because this knowledge will change things for you.

The instinctual brain is the oldest, most primitive part of our brain. It’s located at the base of the skull, and it regulates our basic bodily functions and threat-avoiding impulses. Its primary function is to keep us safe.

The social/emotional brain is a newer structure, overlaid on top of the instinctual brain, and this is where emotional processing, memory and connection to others happen.

The executive brain is the most recently-evolved region of the brain; it is overlaid on top of the emotional brain and it regulates thought and higher function. This is the part of the brain that differentiates us from other species and it grows and develops as we hone particular skill-sets. This is where all our thinking, learning, problem-solving and creating happens.

Each of these systems is integrated into the next one, and what is important for us to know is that the lower structures control access to the upper ones. Each level is a gate to the next.

Once our survival is accomplished or restored, the lower brain opens the gate to the midbrain, and once connection and co-operation is accomplished or restored, the midbrain opens access to the upper brain, which then makes creativity, learning and growth possible.

But if the lower brain does not perceive our survival as accomplished or restored, it will not open the gates. It means that in order for the

Page 31 of 72 brain to access its full creative capacity, we first need to feel safe, secure and emotionally connected.

Thus, we are looking at an incredibly important and overlooked aspect of the daring, creative life – safety.

What do you need to feel safe enough to move forward? That’s the most important question I ask myself and my clients. (If you’re a highly sensitive person and/or have a history of trauma, this is even more important.)

Over and over again, as soon as fear arises: What do I need to feel safe enough to move forward? I respond to that need, and then I move forward.

I don’t believe in pushing, I don’t believe in head-butting fear and “doing it anyway”. I believe in listening to and tending to my needs in such a way that I can’t help but trust myself. Because when we trust ourselves, we can face the scary stuff. We’ve got our own backs.

And what happens then is I find I don’t need to protect myself quite so much as I thought. I can step into the arena; I can ask the scary question; I can even handle rejection. It will hurt once in a while but I can handle it. When I’ve got my own back, I can handle it. You can too. You're not that fragile. You're not. You'd never come this far if you were.

It's not pleasant, no. But we didn't sign up for pleasant, we signed up for the real deal.

You can avoid the pain of rejection, but you will do so at the cost of growth. You will have to dim your lights and play small, and that's a high price to pay to avoid some discomfort. Fact is, if you're never

Page 32 of 72 rejected, you're not reaching far enough. This is as true as it is annoying.

You got a scary question to ask? Then I’ve got a question for you: What do you need to feel safe enough to move forward?

Answering it is the fastest way to expansion. Promise.

Anna Lovind is a writer and editor who believes in women’s creative freedom and the power of our voices and stories. Through her writing, courses and workshops she has guided thousands of creative women to go from dreaming to doing. She is the author of The Creative Doer – A Brave Woman’s Guide from Dreaming to Doing, and co-founder of Write Your Self, a teacher training for people who want to use writing as a tool for healing. Anna lives in the deep forests of Dalarna, Sweden, with her man, their two kids and a dog. https://annalovind.com/

Page 33 of 72

Shauna Reid 8

It would be too narratively tidy to call it my rock bottom moment, because there’d been many such moments before. But this was certainly one of the rockiest of bottoms.

It was the morning after a severe episode of binge eating. I was on the couch, blinking up at the ceiling. My usual post-binge process was to cycle through confusion, shock and shame. Then I’d scurry to hide the evidence in the recycling bin, before vowing to start over.

This time... I just felt hopeless and numb.

My joints burned. My stomach ached. My skull throbbed with pain. I had an important deadline at noon for a beloved client, but I simply could not function.

Food had been my comfort, my companion, my nemesis since the age of ten, when I first sneaked cookies from the freezer at nighttime. What started as an attempt to tune out a chaotic childhood evolved into a lifelong pattern. I hid away with food in times of high stress, loneliness, fear, grief, depression, or sometimes even joy.

Page 34 of 72 For every secret binge, there was a corresponding diet. Like so many people, the first was instigated by well-meaning parents. I carried on dieting into my teens, and so began decades on the restrict > binge treadmill. I didn’t understand until many years later, that the struggle I viewed as my greatest failing was an eating disorder.

There’d been times I thought I was handling things. I once lost enough weight to fit in one leg of my old jeans; the ultimate “success story” cliche. I’d blogged about that journey, which turned into a book deal. I went on TV. When people told me I was an inspiration I felt like a fraud, barely clinging on inside. Whenever life got tricky, I found myself turning back to those familiar behaviors, my shame levels spiraling as I “failed” to live up to the After photo.

It had idly crossed my mind over the years to ask for help, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Binge eating was a difficult and unglamorous thing to admit, let alone talk about with my nearest and dearest. And it had been happening for so long, I was convinced I was beyond help.

But on this one particular day, something inside me felt compelled to reach out.

I thought of my old friend B from the interwebs. She was one of the few people I knew who truly understood the binge eating rollercoaster. I recalled she’d been doing really well over the past year.

What if I reached out to her?

Maybe she could tell me how she managed to find a way forward?

It took me a day to work up to the ask.

Page 35 of 72 First I had to ponder if it was appropriate to even ask someone about such personal things.

Then I had to craft a lengthy preamble (“Sorry to bother you… if it’s not too much trouble…”) because I'm a British citizen after all.

Finally, I got down to business...

I've trawled the internet for binge eating help on and off (as the cycle of OK/Not OK goes round and round) but am now at a total loss.

I’m at the point of admitting 1) this has become a big f*cking mess 2) I've been doing a terrible job of fixing this on my own for the past 20 years or so. I feel like I’m on the verge of imploding completely. If you had any thoughts or ideas or resources - I'm all ears!

Sorry this is such a blurty out of the blue message!

I didn’t even have a chance to worry if I’d used too many exclamation points before her reply pinged into my inbox. It included these words that cracked me right open:

I am so SO sorry you're struggling. It will get better -- just looking for help is the first step...

We later spoke on the phone for two hours. B helped me understand that I was not alone and that there was help available. She listened kindly to my desperate rambling. She shared what had been helpful for her and some ideas for next steps.

I burst into tears after we hung up, overwhelmed by her kindness. I felt a tiny kernel of hope.

Page 36 of 72 That first impossible ask turned out to be the spark I needed to do a whole lot more impossible asking.

… I went to the doctor to ask if there was help available via the National Health Service. There was, but the waiting lists were super long, so this led me to...

… asking a dietitian with a disordered eating specialty if she’d consider taking on a long-distance client. She was!

… asking a client of mine who’s a helping professional if she knew of any residential options, which led to...

… pitching a partnership idea to a facility that helped women with eating issues, which resulted in receiving a three-week stay in exchange for writing about my visit. It was my first ever partnership pitch so asking felt really bloody awkward… but it proved to be a life changer!

Two years on, I’m so grateful to B and all that unfolded from that seemingly-impossible ask.

I’ve learned fascinating stuff about the human brain and the physiological and psychological reasons for why binges happen. I’ve learned to talk about my secret struggles with my loved ones, and it’s brought us closer. I’ve learned to be kinder to myself while taking responsibility for my stuff. I’m practicing new coping strategies. I’ve connected with other folks on the same path, and get huge joy from supporting their journey as B did for me.

Recovery is a wild and winding path that requires waking up and recommitting each day, but I’m never alone.

Page 37 of 72 Asking for the impossible may feel like the squirmiest thing ever, but it can lead to connection... which leads to hope... which leads to action. Then slowly, the impossible becomes possible.

Shauna Reid is an Australian author, copywriter and blogger living in Scotland. She loves telling stories about life and helping her clients tell theirs. Find out more about her work on her website. https://www.shaunareid.com/

Kerstin Martin (Part 2) 9

It’s been an interesting week, filled with conversations, connections and a whole lot of resistance and procrastination!

On Monday I had my monthly Squarespace Mastermind meeting and when I shared with them about my Leuchtturm dream one of the guys mentioned that he knows a bookstore owner who might have a contact at Leuchtturm. Wonderful, I thought, maybe I don’t have to cold call them after all! Well, that didn’t go anywhere, the bookstore

Page 38 of 72 owner did not know anyone. But at least I could procrastinate on my call to Leuchtturm because, you know, I had to wait for the bookstore owner’s reply.

Eventually I decided to make the call on Wednesday, which meant getting up early because of the 9-hour time difference to Germany. This wasn’t going to be a ‘big’ call, just an initial fact finding mission, but I was still oddly nervous.

I set my alarm for six a.m. and took some time and steps to prepare:

Fresh Air. It was a gorgous sunny morning so I went for a walk around the neighborhood, allowing the cool air to blow out any cobwebs and photographing and collecting autumn leaves which always makes me happy.

Pep Talk. For this I tuned into Sas Petherick’s Courage & Spice podcast and re-listened to one of my all-time favorite episodes: “Confidence is a Consequence.” Sas is pretty brilliant when it comes to all things self-doubt and this is a particularly good episode that helped me accept my less-than-confident feelings regarding that blooming call.

Ambience. I made myself a nice cup of herbal tea with honey, and lit a couple of candles in my office, thus setting the scene nicely.

Perspective. I reminded myself that I wasn’t calling for a sales pitch, I was calling for an opening.

Research. I spent some time on the Leuchtturm website, learning more about them but also looking for a good phone number, ideally someone’s direct line rather than the switchboard. I finally found an

Page 39 of 72 extension number for a guy in planner customizations which I figured was close enough to what I needed.

I made the call at 7:30 a.m. and had a nice chat with Herr Hansen! Even though he did initially try and fob me off. After I explained to him that I was looking for a contact to talk to about my planner and a possible collaboration he said outright that he had no idea who that would be, he was still quite new at Leuchtturm and didn’t know all the people there. When I persisted he put me on hold to check with a colleague but that colleague didn’t have a clue, either. He suggested that I either call the switchboard or send an email to the general email address. Sigh. I said to him: “Mr Hansen. This is a BIG dream of mine and you are the first person I’m talking to at Leuchtturm and you already want to strand me! There must be something you can do?” He finally agreed that I could send him an email with my proposal and he would try and find someone to forward it to. Bingo! Still no contact name for a decision maker and not even a foot in the door, but I’ll take a toe in the door! (Just don’t slam it on me!)

It still took me another 36 hours to actually sit down and write that email but tonight I did it. Boy. I did not expect to be writing a proposal in my rusty business German this week! I thought I’d get a name of someone to talk to on the phone about the process and then I’d submit my proposal. Alas, I don’t have the name of that person, I have Herr Hansen. And so I emailed him my proposal which he will hopefully forward to someone who will know what to do with it.

Phew. I still have all sorts of doubts and misgivings about this impossible ask but you know what? I took the first step and that feels good.

Page 40 of 72 Kerstin Martin is a Squarespace expert and educator with a proven track record of helping more than 1,000 entrepreneurs thrive in their online businesses. She is also the creator of the Eule Planner, an analog business planner specifically designed for digital entrepreneurs.

https://kerstinmartin.com/

Patricia Houghton Clarke 10

An Artist Residency in 2011 provided me with the opportunity to live in a tiny southern Italian community where the residents understand what it means to be a stranger in a strange land. Historically migrants themselves, the villagers’ acceptance of “other” comes from a place deep within themselves, their families, and their own migratory history. The ripple effects of that initial inquiry have been quiet, deep and profound.

The Impossible Question that I passionately wanted to confront was:

Page 41 of 72 How can we illustrate, through photography and community interaction, the stories of immigrant arrivals and the people who are gracefully, and with compassion, welcoming new neighbors into the fabric of their lives?

As it turned out, my foray back to Martignano was the perfect place and time to ask the question. The answer I found in there was, literally: “We know what it’s like to carry a suitcase.”

As we move into more and more challenging times with worldwide migration at the forefront, we need to focus time and attention on merging cultures and how to create and sustain humane communities for the future.

To understand that “other” is “us” helps us embrace the similarities that exist between us rather than focus on our differences.

The portraits in the project offer a window to ourselves and those around us; giving us an opportunity to confront ourselves, examine our biases and change our perceptions for the betterment of the communities in which we live. Communities worldwide are struggling with issues of immigration, both legal and illegal.

Given the economic, political, and environmental stresses the entire planet is experiencing, it is the perfect time to demonstrate that harmony and social justice within disparate communities is vital and attainable.

It felt like an impossible mission in 2016 when I returned to Italy to ask my friends there how they were coping with the literal sea of refugees hitting their shores, cities and villages.

Page 42 of 72 As a small, depopulating web of communities faced with their own economic hardships, I was concerned about how the influx was affecting them culturally, socially and economically, and how refugees and immigrants were faring in such strange lands. That impossible question has blossomed over time into answers that I could never have imagined.

It has spawned an international-reaching portraiture project involving community groups and individuals who are also looking to create answers to this vital question of our time: How do we create compassionate, welcoming communities and prepare for the movement and integration of millions of people?

Since the beginning, armed with that simple question, I have been amazed and gratified by a deep desire held by so many to “do” something.

I have seen the simple concept of a respectful photographic portrait inspire poetry contests, at-risk teen photography workshops, “story- cloth” workshops, sing-alongs, fundraising events, Art in Public Places projects, and outdoor exhibitions supported by volunteers around the globe.

Over the past three years I have expanded the scope of subjects from Italy, to London, and this year to Southern California. I have photographed “native-born” residents and advocates along with recent arrivals whose countries of origin include Cameroon, Canada, Egypt, England, Ethiopia, Italy, Nigeria, Pakistan, Sudan, Mexico and Wales.

I am currently making plans to do the “impossible” next series of images, hopefully spending much of 2020 in a tiny depopulating

Page 43 of 72 conservative agricultural town in Kansas. Initially as an entirely self- funded project, we are now grateful to the kindness and generosity of dozens of individual donors and foundations that facilitate our ongoing work.

Other communities that have invited the project are now being researched, and include: Mexico City, MX; Berlin, DE; Copenhagen, DK, Porto, PO; and Griffith, AU.

A self-taught photographer trained in painting and drawing, Patricia is particularly interested in culture, history and human nature. As the Co- Founder of an award-winning affordable housing nonprofit and volunteer with refugee support organizations, her work has been an exploration of humanity, both near and far. Patricia’s award-winning photography has been featured in exhibitions and publications around the United States and Europe. A collection of her imagery is included in the Barack Obama Presidential Library collection. She speaks English, Spanish and Italian. https://www.facingourselves.org/

Page 44 of 72

Madelyn Mulvaney 11

“Follow your heart instead.” — Madelyn Mulvaney

Such a startling and provocative prompt ‘Asking for impossible things!’ There is something so magnificent to me about this – a spotlight on desire, on hope, on dreams. And yet – often in conversation when I talk with people they say “oh I could never… I can’t possibly… it couldn’t possibly work out.”

Impossible things seem to point to big ideas for passionate wishes fulfilled – ultimately to create a more colourful happy life.

So often people marvel at my life – my beautiful, thriving Arts studio, the loving relationship with my friends and family – my upbeat charismatic dog. They are happy for me but a little envious as well. They often mention how they “thought about opening an arts studio too… or this and that” but then their voice drifts off into the ‘buts’ and the obstacles, ultimately dwindling into a dismissive wave of the hand.

The simple truth is, however, that if I had listened to the fears of others around me – I would not have my thriving Arts studio.

Page 45 of 72 My Mom was afraid, my friends were doubtful and worried, my accountant said it simply couldn’t work – (statistics pointed to 96 percent of most small businesses failing within a year or two at best.) Terrifying lack of support all around me.

I had no money, no business plan – simply a dream, an impulse and and upbeat energy. I was persistant. I was positive and outgoing and hopeful and excited – and my belief in myself was infectious. A small loan came in from my petrified Mom – and off I went.

If I had listened to the fears of these beautiful people around me I wouldn’t be who I am – a happy, vibrant business owner with a strong Arts Studio now five years old. I wouldn’t live in a bright apartment around the corner of the studio supporting a loving staff of 5 and my own everyday needs.

May I have the courage today To live the life that I would love, To postpone my dream no longer But do at last what I came here for And waste my heart on fear no more. — John O'Donohue

The truth is I was afraid. Every single day. I had and still have bouts of anxiety that can really pull me down and taking bigger leaps of faith in my business daily terrified me. Still. To this day. It’s not for the faint- of-heart for sure. Uphill. Twisty. Unknown territory.

But I went forward anyway. I took the next step and the next and the one after that.

When I took my first step I asked myself if I was passionate about my dream, did I love it? Would it use my unique talents and skills? And

Page 46 of 72 was it going to make me a better person for having done it? And finally: was there a chance that, by creating this business, it would help someone else in some way?

Yes, yes, yes YES.

I deserved a successful outcome to my impossible dream.

Somehow, my energy and determination and good heart attracted energies, resources and good fortune along the path – clearing the way for my desires and intentions. It seemed that beautiful resources and people would suddenly appear when needed.

And I quickly understood that choosing a supposedly ‘difficult’ or impossible journey was not getting the credit it deserved.

I just knew I would get there and I kept on walking and being utterly grateful for the small and bigger moments of success and joy amidst the inevitable challenges and setbacks.

I refuse to live in fear even when I am profoundly afraid.

I live in hope, I live in joy, I live BRAVE. I never give up and all these good things continue to show up in my life and attract angels.

One of our main mottos in the studio is CREATE YOUR LIFE. Create your art, create your intentions, create your tribe and take bold colourful steps to live a fulfilling, beautiful life.

I can promise you this: There will ALWAYS be people all around you (people you admire, people you love, people wandering in and out of your life) who will say not to be brave, not to take risks and to settle for good enough.

Page 47 of 72 Abundance, joy, love, magical things WILL all show up when you are brave enough to show up for YOU. You have to be brave and believe in impossible things – for the sake of braveness and magic alone. It seems basic but I was continuously reminded what a huge impact these tiny actions of bravery can make to us.

And then one day you too will say:

”Wow, I prayed for this. It’s here. It’s happening.”

Madelyn is a teacher, speaker, photographer and passionate advocate for self awareness through the arts. Founder of the Luminous Elephant art studio, she creates bright, imaginative curriculum for children and adults. She is a writer for various print and online magazines, and a photographer for Getty images. Madelyn's mission is JOY and to help people of all ages find their true voice and make the world a more colourful, good-hearted community. The touchstone of her heart is the love she shares with family, friends, her beautiful children, and her Bernese Mountain dog Lucy.

Maddie adores stories of love and triumph. https://www.luminouselephant.com/

Page 48 of 72

Christine Mason Miller 12

Invincible Winter

Impossible: a word I’ve been thinking about a lot lately. Impossible as in futile, unfeasible, out of the question. Impossible as in beyond the bounds of possibility. It feels like such a hard word, Impossible, what with its immobile, capital I sending a stern, unambiguous message: “Quit your wishful thinking,” it proclaims, “Possibility stops here.”

And yet I can’t help but wonder, under the circumstances I’m living in this moment, if impossibility isn’t a hidden gateway to freedom—a back door to a deeper kind of presence, one that doesn’t require me to expend energy wanting a situation to be something other than exactly what it is.

After a devastating estrangement, I reconciled with my dad last November. Five months later he was diagnosed with advanced small cell carcinoma—a rare, aggressive cancer that had made its way through numerous vital organs by the time it was discovered. The current prognosis is three to six months. He starts his second chemotherapy regimen next week.

Page 49 of 72 The story I’ve been telling since last fall is simple: I went to Oklahoma to see my dad after a thirteen-year separation and I came back home a different person. What this means, exactly, has been difficult to articulate. It isn’t something I’ve been able to explain or even write about; it is something I’ve felt in my bones, an experience I knew needed stillness and darkness to become fully formed. As if channeling the lotus, I let the mystery of what was happening within me lie dormant in dark, muddy waters. If I had tried too soon to describe the meaning of my story—I came back a different person— the experience would be gone.

When the cancer diagnosis came through so soon after our reconnection, this immersion went even deeper. I retreated from most everything—artistic work, social media, friends—in order to practically drown in the reality of the situation. In between visits with my dad, which were always planned around his chemo treatments, my creative energies were channeled into my garden. I spent hours pulling weeds, hauled enough mulch to fill a Volkswagen, and planted dozens of plants and flowers—lamb’s ear, celosia, and bee balm. I watched my garden explode into life as June drifted toward August and now, with October right around the corner, I am witnessing a different kind of transformation. The daisies have all turned brown. The coneflowers are splayed outward, each stem surrendering to the effect of gravity and cooler temperatures. After all the effort and sweat and dirt under my fingernails, I am watching it all fade, already imagining what it will look like under a blanket of white after Milwaukee’s first snowfall.

Albert Camus said, “In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer.” While trying to come to terms with my dad’s cancer as I nurtured my garden, I was living the inverse: In the

Page 50 of 72 midst of summer, I found, within me, an invincible winter—an ability to devote myself to a rich internal life and quietude in eighty-degree weather and the lively hum of a happy garden that was home to birds, bees, butterflies, rabbits, deer, and turkeys. All the while watching my dad endure countless appointments, procedures, tests, scans, and surgeries. All the while knowing his time on earth is dwindling—that he, too, will go gently to the earth, much sooner than any of us expected.

The idea of a miracle fluttering toward us like a newly sprung monarch is a beautiful idea. Of course a wildly unexpected, against- all-odds recovery is something I want. But the facts of all the aforementioned appointments, procedures, tests, scans, and surgeries paint a very different picture—one that feels like it is shrinking as time marches on and cancer markers go up. The road ahead isn’t entirely hopeless—this week’s three to six months prognosis was better than what we thought would happen—but it is certain enough to know any time and energy I spend asking for an outcome that is not, sadly, possible will only serve to uproot me from the time I have with my dad right now. My dad has cancer. The cancer is going to win. With that reality before us, my intention is singular and determined: I’m all in. For whatever is to come.

What I believed, for a long time, was that it would be impossible to have a relationship with my dad. I believed it was impossible for the two of us to sincerely like each other. I believed it was impossible to relax in his presence. I believed it was impossible for us to recover from our past. And yet here we are—putting all those impossibilities to rest, enjoying each other’s company as if it were the most natural thing in the world, despite cancer and chemotherapy and the dark

Page 51 of 72 shadow of mortality. We are now on this path—messy and infuriating as it is—together, and it will lead us both, in the end, to redemption.

I don’t need to keep asking for the impossible; the miracle has already happened. I’ve been released from a cage I’ve had the key to all along and now I’m free—to practice radical acceptance, and love as deeply as I can.

Christine Mason Miller is a writer and artist who lives in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Her most recent book is The Meandering River of Unfathomable Joy: Finding God and Gratitude in India. https://www.christinemasonmiller.com

Angie Mizzell 13

A few weeks ago, I almost broke up with my book. The book that I first conceived of a decade ago. The book that compelled me to fly across the country when I was four months pregnant with my second child to attend a workshop called, “Write the Damn Book.” The book I’ve wrestled with and shaped into a first draft, a second, and now a third.

Page 52 of 72 This third draft—I was convinced—was trying to do me in. I’m a trained journalist; a former television news anchor. I tell you this to illustrate the point that I know how to work on a deadline. Give me a deadline and I’ll get it done. But this book? It’s a whole different beast. On that particular night, I felt like it was messing with me, just for kicks.

Defeated, I shut my laptop and walked outside to my front porch. I sat on the top step, looked into the night sky and asked, “Why, for the love of all things good, is this so hard?”

I stared into the dark possibility: This big dream of mine? It’s going absolutely nowhere. For a moment, I almost believed it. I almost threw up my hands and dramatically declared, “I’m done!”

But I didn’t do that. At this stage in my life, I’ve learned to trust my gut feelings. If working on the book was no longer serving me, and if it was truly time to let go and move on, I would’ve felt a flash of relief. Instead, I heard a voice inside that said, “Hang on. Stay with me.”

Two weeks later, I went to a writing retreat. Just before I left, a writer friend sent me a link to a blog post about creating a compelling narrative arc. “What was the event that kicked off your crisis? Start there,” the author advised. “And start with the raw, beating heart of it, not what happened the day before.”

Jumping headfirst into the heart of my own story would mean changing the beginning (once again) and starting at what was currently chapter 3. This made me feel a bit out of control; I wasn’t sure how that was going to work. I’m not a let’s take a road trip and see where we end up kind of person. But I felt my wiser self, inviting me to give it a try.

Page 53 of 72 I opened my laptop and dove in. Then, two days later, on the last day of the writing retreat, I read aloud the new opening chapter of my book. The audience of 12 supportive women all said, Yes! That works! The retreat leader, a woman who’s been my writing mentor for years, said, “Don’t change anything. Keep going.”

Getting an agent, getting this book published, and delivering it to the world: That’s the big dream. But it’s a goal for another day. Today, my goal is to write the next scene, and then the next, and the next, until I complete the third draft.

The grand takeaway? I think it’s this: If you’re working hard for something that feels impossible and the thought of letting it go doesn’t bring a sense of relief, then maybe it’s time to take a step back and give yourself space to see things in a new way. It’s like when I’m in a rush and trying to get out the door, and I’m searching all around the house for my phone. Then, suddenly, I realize that I’m talking on it.

Sometimes the answer—the breakthrough—is quite literally in the palm of your hand. You might not see it yet. Just hold on; stay with it. It’s closer than you think.

Angie is a writer specializing in personal essays and is currently at work on a memoir. In addition to serving as her three children’s personal Uber driver, she also hosts television commercials for a local regional medical practice. She lives in Charleston, SC. https://angiemizzell.com/

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Kerstin Martin (Part 3) 14

A Good Start.

So last week late on Thursday night I emailed my pitch to Herr Hansen at Leuchtturm, in the hope that he would pass it on to the right person. Well, he did and when I got up Friday morning I had a reply from Leuchtturm’s brand director! (Remember, they are 9 hours ahead of me.)

Wow. I did not expect a response so quickly! And here is the funny thing: I am pretty sure that the brand director is the same person that Herr Hansen spoke to when he put me on hold during our conversation, I recognized the name. Which just goes to show that putting in the effort and staying up until 2am to write a pitch is sometimes worth it!

The brand director’s message was short, “Thank you for your proposal and I’d be happy to chat with you next week at 4pm German time. What is a good number to call you on?” That was 7am here which was perfect! However, he did not mention a day so I suggested Monday in my reply.

Page 55 of 72 Well, Monday 7am came and went and no call. Same on Tuesday, no call. No email, either.. Ugh.

All sorts of things went through my head at this point:

He is probably busy, I should just wait to hear back from him.

He has changed his mind.

I cannot call him because he said he’d call me.

I don’t want to bother him.

Should I maybe send another email? Is that too pushy?

Ha ha!

Then I remembered something Eli said in her original newsletter that sparked our topic of asking for impossible things:

“Then I moved up a level to stating my preferences. For example, when someone asked, 'where shall we meet', I would suggest a meeting place that suited me, rather than my default answer of, 'I don't mind, wherever's easiest for you.'“

So rather than ambiguously waiting until I was contacted I decided to level up my game. I called the number on his email which went to a woman’s voicemail, I am assuming his assistant. I did not leave a message, it’s not her I wanted. I tried his mobile which was also listed but there was no answer and no mailbox, either. So I decided to call Herr Hansen again. This time a woman answered and she put me through to the brand director’s voicemail. I left a message. And then I followed up with a short email. I was in full-on ASK mode!

Page 56 of 72 He replied to my email within an hour saying he’d call me the next day if he can, he had a lot going on but he’d try.

I am sharing all these details with you to demonstrate just how much our self-doubt and fears and assumptions continue to influence how we act in a situation that carries so much stake for us. While I’m not shy I am not the most assertive person in the world, either, and saying “I don’t mind, whatever is easiest for you,” is probably one of my most used phrases! It was because of Eli’s email back then that I suggested Monday to the brand director, rather than saying “let me know what day suits you best.” It’s also why - when I did not hear anything - I decided to be proactive and called and emailed again.

Anyway. On Wednesday we finally spoke!

It was a short call because he did slot me in but I took that as a good sign because he was busy but still wanted to talk to me. I think he’s quite intrigued by my story and the planner. He asked me quite a few questions and when he had to go he said that this is a really busy time of year for them but he wants to keep the conversation going. He suggested another call in November and we fixed a date and time for it there and then. That’s what I call German efficiency! He also wants to see a copy of the planner which I will mail to him as soon as I get my batch from the printers.

Phew.

All of this is quite nervewrecking. But also exciting. I may still get a No but I feel that a Yes is also a real possibility here. Which kinda blows my mind.

No matter what the outcome is with Leuchtturm, this Big Ask is a pivot point for my business, I can feel that in my bones. I’ve had a lot of

Page 57 of 72 really great conversations with my husband and a few friends, and the initial overwhelm has given way to a piercing clarity and a vision that I finally feel ready to pursue. I’ll share more about what exactly I mean by this next week!

Kerstin Martin is a Squarespace expert and educator with a proven track record of helping more than 1,000 entrepreneurs thrive in their online businesses. She is also the creator of the Eule Planner, an analog business planner specifically designed for digital entrepreneurs.

https://kerstinmartin.com/

Sophie Dale 15

When Kerstin first asked me to write a piece on Asking for Impossible Things, I knew straight away what I wanted to write about.

This story goes back more than a decade, to when I had recently turned thirty. A man I’d really fallen for had broken my heart and, when I looked around me, it felt as if all my good friends were

Page 58 of 72 coupled up, having children and doing all the things society tells us you’re ‘supposed’ to be doing when you hit your thirties.

So, I started online dating - and, you won’t be surprised to hear, it was pretty disastrous.

It turns out that dating when you’re feeling heartbroken isn’t a great move - and trying to swim with the ‘get married and have kids’ tide when you’re not sure about commitment is pointless. I went on a LOT of first dates, a few second dates, and had a couple of fairly brief relationships. One of these was with a guy whom I really thought OUGHT to be ‘the one’, if it just weren’t for the inconvenient fact that there was no real spark between us. Oh yes, and we didn’t seem to be able to talk about anything important. After about six months, he had the good sense to put both of us out of our misery by ending the relationship.

After that, I wasn’t sure what to do next. I’d had a first-hand taste of how lonely it feels to be in the wrong relationship, and I certainly didn’t want more of that. Also, when I looked at my coupled up friends, I realised that I envied their apparent feeling of certainty, but I didn’t actually want to be planning a move to suburbia or enduring sleepless nights with a newborn. So, what did I want?

That’s the first step I think, in asking for your impossible thing. You can’t ask for it if you don’t know what it is.

I stopped dating and spent some time revelling (as only an introvert can) in living by myself in my own little flat by the sea. I spent a lot of my time writing journal entries and went on meditation retreats and threw myself with renewed vigour into running my business. I spent more time with my friends, both the ones with small babies and the

Page 59 of 72 sizeable contingent who were single like me (but who had somehow not figured in my comparisonitis ‘everyone’s found their soulmate except me’ moment). And gradually, I worked out what I did want.

I didn’t want to be on the marriage-and-babies track. I wanted to see if I could find someone I felt completely comfortable to be fully myself with, someone who would challenge me and interest me and make me laugh and always have my back. And if I couldn’t find that person, then I was content to stay on my own.

Initially, I didn’t intend to go back to online dating. After all, I’d given it a pretty thorough go, and it really hadn’t worked for me. But then I got to thinking about why it hadn’t worked, and what had changed for me since then.

And also, I did what I always do when I’m stuck. I read.

I read exhaustively, not so much about ‘meeting your ideal partner’ since so much of that advice was such blatantly patriarchal bullshit, but more on the topic of how to ask for impossible things.

And the most useful book I read was one by a psychology professor called Richard Wiseman. His book was called The Luck Factor, and it was a research-based examination of how some people experience so much more luck in their lives than others. The people who are doing their dream job, or who have found their soulmate are perceived as being lucky - but maybe they just know how to increase their chances of getting what they wanted.

Wiseman came up with what he dubbed the Four Principles of Luck:

Page 60 of 72 1. Maximise chance opportunities 2. Listen to your lucky hunches 3. Expect good fortune 4. Turn bad luck into good

As I read the book, I could see that actually I was already living an incredibly lucky and privileged life, and also that I was already intuitive, optimistic and resilient, which meant I was doing quite well with principles two, three and four. However, as an introvert who avoids small talk at all costs, it was principle number one that eluded me. If I wasn’t going to be getting into many chance conversations in the checkout line at the supermarket, I was going to need to create my own ‘chance opportunities’.

One of the things I love about Kerstin’s project is it’s not about the Law of Attraction, ask the universe approach to asking for impossible things. It’s about taking concrete actions and asking something of real people.

And that’s when I decided to give online dating one last go. Which is how I came to agree to a date with a very persistent man who didn’t fit my predetermined checklist for the men I was dating (he wasn’t a writer/ artist/academic living in Edinburgh, he was an IT consultant who lived hundreds of miles away). And, one elopement later, that’s how I ended up married, with a baby after all.

Because when you ask for impossible things, you just might get more than you expected.

Page 61 of 72 Sophy Dale is an editor-turned-copywriter, messaging strategist and business coach who works with coaches, designers, e-course creators and other freelancers and consultants. She lives in Edinburgh with her husband and daughter. https://www.sophydale.com/

Valerie Day 16

It was a fall day, bright with promise and new beginnings. I had just left our son Malcolm in his kindergarten class. The clamor of children from moments before was replaced by stillness, and the muffled sounds of teachers behind closed doors. I found myself in a hallway I'd never been in before.

One room was silent. Light filtered through a window on the door and a lock hung on the handle. Curious, I peered in. The room was full of instruments — marimbas, drums, percussion — all covered in a layer of dust.

My heart sank. This was the music room. Quiet. Shuttered. A place of promise and possibility, empty of life.

Page 62 of 72 Later I learned that the door had been locked two years before due to budget cuts. Non-essentials, like music and art, were the first to go. The arts as non-essential? Art had never been non-essential to me. They had kept me in school and saved my life.

I had immersed myself in theater, dance, visual art, and music classes during my school years. As a teenager, when my family life fell apart, I found refuge in artistic expression and created an alternative family with other artists. I even married one.

I wanted our son to have an arts education too. Musical instruments and art supplies filled our home, but I wanted him to have an opportunity to create in school. I also knew he was one of the lucky ones. Many of his classmates came from families who were struggling to meet their children's basic needs. After-school arts and music classes were an impossibility.

As I stood there in that empty hallway, I thought, "What a waste. There is so much possibility in this room. How can I unlock the door?"

I had no idea where to begin, but I knew others felt as I did — artists, parents, and teachers who might want to help. I also had friends who knew about the nonprofit world. I asked them to join me and Artists For The Arts, a non-profit dedicated to raising money for public school art programs was born.

Turns out, that was the easy part. The asking had only just begun.

Asking for an impossible thing for others is easier than asking for yourself — especially when you're asking for help for children. But for me, it was still hard. Singing for 10,000 people is easier for me than giving a talk in front of 10. Who knew that my performance anxiety

Page 63 of 72 would show up when asking for money to fund arts education for kids!

But, just like in music, the more you practice, the easier it gets. For seven years, I practiced asking almost every day. Here’s a list of the things I learned that still help me ask for impossible things today:

Practice. Start small. Practice pitching your family and friends first. Build up to the big one.

People want to help. The world is full of people who want to help, who want you to succeed. As Mister Rogers said, "Find the helpers."

Ask for advice. People like to give advice. When making a request, consider asking for advice first. It will help you get your foot in the door. Once they hear your story, they might want to help.

Ask what you can do for them. Find out if there is something you can do for them so that the ask will benefit both of you.

Tell a great story. Make sure your ask is embedded in a compelling story. Psychology professor Paul Bloom tells us, "When shown an object, given food, or shown a face, people's assessment of it – how much they like it, how valuable it is – is deeply affected by what you tell them about it." Context is everything.

Go for the head AND the heart. Decision making happens on an emotional level. Having data to back

Page 64 of 72 up your ask matters, but the decision itself is ultimately made by a combination of the rational and emotional parts of our brain. When making an ask of someone who seems to operate from a purely rational perspective, logic and analysis might not be the only way to get a yes. A compelling example of this is the testimony given by Mister Rogers in front of the Senate Intelligence Committee, challenging the cuts to public broadcasting in 1969.

Some people have the resources to give, but not the capacity. Like the Grinch, there are those whose heart is two sizes too small. They might have plenty of money or resources, but unless you're Cindy-Lou Who, you probably won't unlock the door to their giving heart. When they say no, send them a dose of compassion (after all, they're the ones who have to live within that constricted world view), and then move on.

Tuesdays and Wednesdays are best. Monday's are the worst. People are just starting their week, so their list of to-dos and inboxes are full. By Tuesday or Wednesday, they're in full swing and have gotten the most urgent things off their plate.

No response isn't necessarily a no. Most people live in a state of overwhelm. If you make your ask and don't hear back, wait a week, and try again.

Be persistent, but don't be a pest. Follow up, but don't be pushy. View your second or even third email or phone call as a helpful reminder to the person to get back to you. If they don't, it's time to move on — without resentment. Compassionately let them go.

Page 65 of 72 Follow up. Make it easy for people to do what they say they're going to do. Send a follow-up email outlining what was discussed in a phone call, face to face meeting, or previous email thread. Summarize what you talked about, and ask if you got it right or if there's anything to add. Now they have a list of what they’ve agreed to do.

Plug back into the why. Asking isn't easy. It takes energy, patience, and belief in what you're asking for. When that belief starts to flag, take a break and plug back into why you're doing this in the first place. As Simon Sinek puts it in his brilliant TedTalk, "People don't buy what you do, they buy why you do it." Make sure you’re clear on your why is so it can fuel you when the going gets rough.

I wish I could say that we were hugely successful with Artists for the Arts — that we unlocked the door in my son's school and created sustainable funding for the arts in our city. It was harder than we thought to run a non-profit and raise money for it. But we did make a difference. Our grants funded mural projects, a student art gallery, art supplies for teachers, dance and movement classes, theater programs, instrument purchases, field trips to cultural events, and more.

So what, then, is the point of pursuing our dreams? What if it’s the thorough engagement of our heart? — Sandra Joseph

Life never goes how we think it will. The gap between the impossible thing we’re reaching for and the reality we find ourselves in is always wider than we'd like it to be.

Page 66 of 72 But should we still reach for what we imagine? Or ask for our hearts desire?

I believe the answer is, unequivocally, yes. When we ask for impossible things, we learn and grow in ways we could never imagine. We build capacity for resilience, perseverance, and learn to navigate success and failure.

Asking makes us vulnerable, but it also opens us up to possibility — and is the key that unlocks all doors.

Epilogue:

After 10 years, Artists For The Arts merged with another Oregon non- profit called Keeping The Beat and became Keeping The Arts. KTA continues to raise money through The Portland Creative Conference (Cre8con) and give grants to arts education around the state. Combined, the two organizations have provided over 155,000 dollars to arts education programs in Oregon since 2003.

Hello. I'm Valerie, a musician, educator, neuroscience/psychology geek, mother, and creative explorer living in Portland OR. My journey as a musician and educator began more than 30 years ago. It’s taken me from smokey little clubs to packed arenas, from performing in obscurity to making hit records in the 80s with a band called Nu Shooz. Now, I’m on a mission to help vocalists create a sustainable life in music. I produce a podcast for and about singers, Living A Vocal Life. https://www.valeriedaysings.com/

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Julia Barnickle 17

I’ve been asking for impossible things all my life - and I continue to do so. For example, I asked Kerstin if I could be one of the contributors to her community project, even though we didn’t know each other - and I’m so glad she said yes!

Asking for impossible things hasn’t always been easy, and I didn’t always get a yes.

Sometimes I didn’t ask the question in the right way - sometimes I asked at the wrong time. Sometimes I didn’t even want a yes. But I keep asking, because the more I practise asking, the better I get at it - and the less painful rejection feels.

In my 20s I asked a guy to go out with me. Actually, what I said was “I don’t suppose you’d like to go out with me, would you?” Unsurprisingly, he said no. As a good friend explained: a negative question solicits and often gets a negative response. I’m actually glad he said no, because I might not have met my husband otherwise - and been able to ask him out.

Page 68 of 72 When I started my business as a Life Coach, I used to go to swanky hotels in London, ask to speak to the manager, then try to sell them coaching. I believed in the benefits - but all the time, I was secretly thinking “please don’t say yes” because I didn’t have anything tangible to offer. Fortunately, they complied with my wishes. It wasn’t until I teamed up with a group of experienced coaches that I felt comfortable selling ideas which I knew could be turned into something useful.

During my 20-year IT career, I had been used to asking what people needed, so that I could design a computer system to solve the problem. As my career progressed, and I became an expert , I almost didn’t need to ask. But when I started my business, I lost confidence, going from expert to novice, and it felt like an admission of incompetence to ask what people needed - and an even bigger admission of incompetence if I couldn’t deliver what was required. So I stopped asking - with disastrous consequences.

I’ve come to realise that the key to asking for impossible things - regardless of who I’m asking - is to be unattached to the outcome: in other words, to be OK with the answer being either yes or no, and to be prepared to walk away if it’s not the answer I want.

Being too attached to the outcome can put unnecessary pressure both on myself and on the person I’m asking. Nowadays I make it clear that there is no obligation to say yes.

Asking for money has always been challenging, because I have very little concept of money. I once asked at a job interview for a salary 35% higher than my income at the time. It was simply the amount I needed to earn, to qualify for a mortgage on a house. So I blurted out the figure when the interviewer asked what salary I wanted - the

Page 69 of 72 only time I’ve ever been asked - and after a loud gulp, he said yes. If he had said no, I would have kept looking.

Asking for anything needs to be in alignment with my Values - but often my success in asking for impossible things has nothing to do with what I’m asking for, and everything to do with how determined I am when I pose the question.

In my final year at university, a friend and I signed up to do a parachute jump - I wanted to impress another friend, who was an instructor. The first time I went up in the plane, I refused to jump - even though I was already standing on a step over the wheel and hanging on to a strut under the wing - and I was brought back down in the plane.

I could have quit right then, but I wanted to have another go. By now, I wasn’t trying to impress anyone. It was just something I needed to do - so I asked if I could try again. I had to wait 4 weeks and fulfil some other criteria, but eventually my friend said yes. I then asked for a different instructor - one who would push me if I refused a second time. After some consideration, my friend again said yes. The new instructor did push me - and it was exactly what I needed. I asked to jump again - and the following week I jumped out of the plane unassisted.

I wonder how we know something is impossible before we ask? Do we base our assumption on previous experience, or our own Values - or is it something else? Most people say they’re afraid to ask for something, in case the answer is no. But some are afraid to ask for something they really want, in case the outcome isn’t what they had hoped for. So they block the possibility of something improving their lives, out of fear that - at worst - things might stay the same.

Page 70 of 72 For the past year, I’ve been on a clinical trial, testing out the effectiveness and side-effects of a combination of treatments for advanced cancer. Initially, I felt that my world had massively shrunk because of the side-effects. So I asked for the dosage to be reduced - despite a high element of risk. It feels like I’ve gone from being fiercely independent to having to ask for help in so many situations - and I’ve found the transition difficult. I’m not allowed to drive, so if I don’t have the energy to take public transport, I have to ask my husband to drive me. He’s happy to help - I just find it difficult to ask, out of pride and not wanting to be a nuisance.

But for as long as I have breath, I shall continue to ask for impossible things.

Julia Barnickle is a film maker, photographer, intuitive artist and writer. Originally from Birmingham, in the UK, she has been living on the outskirts of London with her husband for 30+ years. As a teenager, Julia decided that nothing in Life is worth worrying about, and that she wanted a career which would pay her to travel and make use of her language skills - her two main passions. She has achieved her dream as a student, an employee, and in her own business.

After a corporate career in Information Technology, lasting nearly 20 years, Julia started a business as a life / careers / business coach, while doing occasional IT contracts on the side. She eventually decided to close the business in 2018 to focus on the things that make her feel most alive.

Page 71 of 72 Diagnosed with “terminal” metastatic breast cancer in 2014, Julia believes that illness and injury are the Soul’s way of trying to communicate with us, when we refuse to listen to our heart.

She is currently preparing her memoirs of Taking Life As It Comes for publication in 2019, while figuring out what her Soul is trying to say. https://juliabarnickle.com/

Thank you! Much gratitude goes to Eli Trier for inspiring and helping organize this project, and to our 14 wonderful contributors who shared their heartfelt, thought provoking, engaging and beautifully written essays with us. Your stories were exceptionally well received by our community, and inspired many of us to be a bit braver and ask for more impossible things! Kerstin xo

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