Don't Ask, Don't Get

My daddy used to say this all the time. Mostly when I'd be all pouty about something my mom had said no to. Like the time I wanted a new Sting Ray for my birthday. Mom told me no. Said I already had a bike. I argued. She resisted. Hence, the pout. So daddy asks me what's going on. I won't tell him. He says, "If you don't ask for what you want, you'll never get it."

That's just one example of the many times he said those words. It stuck in my brain....for all these years.

After I moved away from home, and began navigating my way through the "real world", I relied on this little nugget. A LOT. If there was something, anything, I wanted and couldn't get on my own, I'd just ask. Whomever was in a position to make it happen. I'd simply ask. And you know what? More often than not, I got what I asked for.

Like this one time....

My husband and I belonged to a bowling league. (don't roll your eyes at me!). There was a woman there who was quite the snappy dresser. One of those gals who spent her husband's money on clothes and shoes and loads of jewelry. Most of the other women in the league disliked this little woman. I thought she was a HOOT. She made me laugh. And she was always very sweet to me. One night, as everyone was arriving for play, she walked into the bowling alley wearing this SUPER cool mesh shirt over a shimmery bodysuit. The shirt was the color of a sunflower. The bodysuit was black. She had on black jeans and these strappy high-heeled sandals. She looked aDORable! When she came over to say hello, I gushed over the outfit, specifically the shirt. Then I said, "I think you should give it to me!" And that adorable woman took that shirt off, right there on the spot, and gave it to me! I thought she was joking, so I handed it back. She said, "NO! You'd look great in it. I'll buy another one. Take it. Go on. Take it." I did.

(For the record, I still have that shirt. And I still wear it. No kidding. Makes me smile every time I put it on.)

Anyway, the point is this:

If you don't ask, you won't get.

Sometimes it's simply a matter of putting it "out there" for the Universe to hear. A vibrational invitation, if you will.

"OHHHHH! I'd really like to have one of those!"

Arms open, raised to the sky. Eyes closed. Smiling mugg. Trusting the Universe to deliver.

Other times....you just have to ask...anybody who'll listen. Pride aside. Just ASK.

So....here it is:

Christmas will be here in a snap. Shop early. Beat the rush. This wrap has my name all over it!


                               
{if you click the pic, you'll be taken to the NatGeo site, where it is available to purchase. and...if you need my address, you can contact me HERE. See how easy it is?}

P.S. I DID get that snazzy StingRay bike. For Christmas. That same year! Thank you, daddy!)

Sometimes You Just Gotta ASK

Pride can be a real pain in the ass. It can keep you from many Joys, in ways you might not even think about. Take it from someone who knows: Pride is a Party Pooper.

Now, before we go further, let's make it clear: I'm not talking about the kind of pride you feel when you or your child have accomplished something. Or the kind that arises from having conquered some fear or limitation. I'm talking about the pride that gets in the way of your well-being. Like when you want something but don't have the means to get it. Whether that something is a "thing" or a "need" or even a relationship. If you want it, and it can't be had without some help...that's the pride I'm talking about.

When you want/need something and you know the only way to get/accomplish that something is to ask for help, and you don't ask ....that is the Party Pooper Pride. It's that voice in your head that tells you how pathetic you are for even having to ask. The voice that says, "Oh look at you. Why don't you just dry up and blow away. You're pitiful."

When that voice speaks, you'd be best off ignoring it. That Party Pooper is doing its best to keep you stuck. To stop you from moving forward. To leave you feeling as helpless and unimportant as possible. Is that the kind of voice you want to heed? Do you really think that by asking for help you're going to be "less" than you are? Do you suppose that anyone who has reached any of their goals did it all by their lonesome?

Are you kidding me?!

Nobody. And I mean NObody who has ever reached "the top" got there alone. Every single one of them had help along the way. Some lived in their cars and only ate because someone else fed them. Some lived on friends' couches for months on end. Some even stood on streets, playing a guitar or horn or whatever...with a hat for "donations" so they could go buy a hot dog at the 7Eleven (ICK!). The stories are as endless as the reasons why. But the endings are pretty much the same:

They needed help. They told the Party Pooper to SHUT UP, and they asked for help.

There is no shame in asking. It's far more shameful to need and not ask than to need and suffer needlessly. We are all here to lend a hand. And you have to ask yourself, "...if the shoe were on the other foot, would I want them to ask me for help?"

If you don't ask, you don't get.

So how 'bout you get over the Party Poopin' Pride and let those people who love you (and even those who don't know you....) help. I'd be willing to bet they'd help...

...if you'd only ask.

Wrestling with Pride ~

She called today after months of absence to tell me that her life is a blur of activity. She's busy, busy, busy. She has so much going on that it's impossible to take a breath. She's running 250 MPH, 24/7 and wondering why her bones hurt.

Uh-oh.

Then she told me that a dear friend of hers wants to take her to Paris. Paris in SPRINGTIME! This friend wants to pay her way, from flight to food to accommodations. The whole nine yards. I could hear the resistance in her voice. I could tell she was struggling with her pride. I could feel the angst in her belly. All so very familiar to me. All so very foolish.

We come from a family of very proud people. A family that is so eager to give and so quick to refuse gifts from others. Proud to a fault. The epitome of foolish pride.

As I listened to her tell her story, I could also feel the excitement she was trying so hard to squelch. It wasn't working too well. Regardless of her effort, I knew she was imagining the possibility of letting go the pride and taking that trip with her friend. Next thing I know, she's talking about passports and birth certificates and arrangements for her critters. A big grin spread across my face. Just so happens I have her birth certificate from way back when I was her legal guardian. Knew exactly where it was and grabbed it as we talked. When I told her I had it, I could feel her releasing some of that resistance. I could see the grin on her face.

YESSSS! She's going to go!

Finally I said, "You know, maybe you might like to look at this a bit differently. Maybe you might like to consider that going with her is a gift YOU are giving to her. Maybe, just maybe, it's a way for you to finally begin accepting the endless gifts that you so deserve. We don't have to hold on to that foolish pride that hurt our dad so badly. We can let it go. Will you just consider it?"

She laughed her big, hearty laugh and said, "I knew you were going to say that. And I know you're right. I know it's hurting me. And yes, I'll consider it. I promise."

I hung up the phone and did a little dance. SHE'S GOING TO PARIS! No one deserves it more. She is one of the most giving, generous people on the planet. She is kind and selfless (also to a fault!) and so incredibly loving. And the fact that she's my sister has nothing to do with it. Even if she weren't, she'd still be my friend. And I'd still want her to go. Because she DOES deserve to have some fun and relax and TAKE for a change.

We shall see how that goes.