Nudging

Drangonfly

I love me some Michael Bublé,

‘It’s a new dawn, it’s a new day, it’s a new life, for me, and I am feeling good—

Dragonfly out in the sun, you know what I mean, do you know?‘

Yes, Michael, I know exactly what you mean. I feel like a dragonfly, transforming and having an awakening, too. Gosh, I remember it like it was yesterday when a dragonfly landed on my knee, surrounded by the beautiful mountains in California; I instinctively knew it was a sign, a nudge to act. I also chose a dragonfly as the symbol for toGETherJOY to represent change and self-realization. 

I get all sorts of feels when I think of my toGETherJOY journey, from the nudge in Lake Tahoe to this moment: collaborating with like-minded chicks that appreciate together is better. I sound like a broken record talking to people, yet I am happy that my reach expands beyond my circle. A girl with a pen, nudging…do better, be better.  

Did you happen to catch any of the Olympics? Most people didn’t, but I love the opening ceremonies, the passing of the torch, the eternal flame that embodies the light of spirit, knowledge, and life. I envision this for ToGETHherJOY; first, we must uncover our inner light and then help others discover theirs; thus creating a ripple effect of lights joining together to illuminate the path forward.  

The Nudge Theory

Have you heard of The Nudge Theory? It was developed in 2008 by economist Richard Thaler and states that shaping environments can influence outcomes. In essence, nudging equates to the desired action. For example, a grocery store may choose to put apples in its impulse display case instead of doughnuts, an indirect prod for shoppers to make a healthier choice.  

Whoa, this is what I do: nudge women. I didn’t realize it was considered a theory. I am swapping doughnuts for self-reflection and pressing: hey, what’s your thing? What excites you? What do you daydream about? I hope to ignite a little spark in women and encourage them to author up, to write their happily ever after.

Silent Majority aka Sleepers

We have all heard of the silent majority in politics, an unspecified large group of people who do not express their opinions. These folks feel marginalized and silenced by the systems in place.

Politics aside, aren’t women a form of the silent majority? Aren’t we marginalized and silenced with our voices, hopes, and dreams? Consider the box women are in, no doubt a direct result of our excessive need to accommodate. We generally take the path of less resistance and make choices that make life easier for everyone else, which leaves us in peripheral roles. Women are phenomenal at the producing role (managing, coordinating, scheduling, etc.), but why are we relinquishing the director’s role? We are the first to say reach for the stars, dream big, and the sky’s the limit to our loved ones, yet we stopped believing and wanting this for ourselves.

I am not a scientist, but my money is on women. And I am betting that we will see a significant shift in society if I can nudge—wake women from this trance. Sorry, men, not sorry. Let’s face it: women are doers and multitaskers and have the right amount of empathy and compassion to make this world better. Show me a successful man, and I guarantee that one or perhaps many strong women are fluffing his feathers in the shadows.

Yes, I am using broad strokes to paint my canvas; I understand that outliers exist. Nonetheless, I will pursue this theory until proven wrong. In the best-case scenario, I disrupt the norms by waking up many women (aka the silent majority; sleepers) by encouraging them to take the director’s seat and change the landscape. Worst case scenario, I get women to pause and reflect long enough to plant seeds; oh, I am not quite ready to take the helm, but I will start thinking, dreaming, and mapping. The biggest mistake we can make is to think of the nudge as an all-or-none principle. It is not; lean in, start contemplating ideas, see where it takes you.

To be clear, I am not suggesting women give up their lives or stop attending little Johnnie’s games. Heck no, parenting is borrowed time; eat up every second with your babies. But I urge women to add a line item to their to-do list, reconnect with themselves, and spend more time daydreaming in the why not me?

Becoming Mic

I’m not sure if I should be offended or delighted at the way some respond or the look I sometimes get whenever I tell people I am a blogger/writer. Heads tilt. Wait, I didn’t know this? YOU…long pause… write …puzzled look…followed by a line of questioning. 

What do you write?

Do you have a degree in writing?

Did you have a previous career in writing?

Have you been published?

Why?

Do you have a podcast?

What, who, where, when, why, you should…

To be fair, writer/blogger is a relatively new response. For years, my standard answers were a combo of wise-gal cracks, personal chef, Uber driver, cleaning lady, personal concierge, and my favorite, dwelling custodian for two private and, may I add, cheap and ungrateful clients. No one flinched to these answers. In some way, these responses checked the box, expectations met, oh, you are a mom, this is easy to believe. Having an identity attached to caring for other people, for sure, works. 

But try telling people that I am taking the lead role in my life, that I am on a mission to expose phenomenal women—to wake up the silent majority. That blogging allows me to listen, learn, grow, share, and illuminate. I may as well be speaking Spanish, the blank look, si, mami, por que no yo? And then there is always, do you make money? Nope, not yet, but I love supporting and raising money for non-profits. This throws people over the edge. 

In other words, mami, it’s called passion. It is doing something I love, thus, why I do it even if it means not getting paid. I am confident the money will come, but discovering my purpose was never attached to how much money I can make? For me, toGETherJOY is the sweet gathering spot in my heart where I get to have honest conversations with real women that yield practical advice for inspired action. A place to sprinkle in charity work because nothing else fuels me like serving others.

I understand why I get the head tilts; people want evidence. Let me see your credentials; where did you go to university? What makes you think you can call yourself a writer. I am no stranger to ‘show me proof,’ c’mon I am not going just to let anyone inject me with Botox. I do get it. But unless it is a specialized field, you can take your degree and shove it. This mindset (a piece of paper) holds too many back; oh, I can’t do that. Indeed, it held me back. 

I am a recovering closet writer, so proclaiming I am a writer is not easy; it has taken me a long time to pin this badge. I was the first to set limiting beliefs, to dismiss, no, I am not a professional writer, I am not qualified, I don’t have a degree. I am not a real writer, not like (name any famous author). Look at that: no one had to dim my light; I was doing a great job on my own, and then I met Bruce, my boys’ middle school basketball coach. Man, did he go nuts yelling on the sidelines? ‘You have to want to shoot; you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take’, his message to the boys was clear: stop playing scared and shoot the dang ball. 

His words resonated with me and made me think: isn’t this how most of us approach life? We play small; our actions are motivated by fears, insecurities, and scarcity. Heaven forbid we fail or get embarrassed. Nah, let’s play it safe; let someone else take the shot.

So, I decided to rewrite the bogus rules in my head; screw it, I speak; therefore, I write. I am less interested in the proper writing structure and am spending time honing the skills to deliver meaningful messages. My only criteria are to be authentic and truthful. That’s it. A girl with a pen putting words to paper is enough for me; this makes me a writer.

Do you remember being a kid and playing pretend? The way we used our imagination to transport worlds where anything was possible. What was your go-to? A superhero? Athlete? Tea-parties? Dolls? Dress-UP?

My sisters and I used to play school and shopping; I vaguely remember our neighbor, Angie, owning a toy cash register and setting up a storefront in her bedroom. At one point, we turned our basement into a restaurant and designed menus around whatever food was in our pantry. We would invite my parents’ friends to dine in and order from the menu. We offered the whole experience, including having the chef prepare and carefully cut the sandwiches into triangles. The meal was incomplete without a mint and the bill, and we fully expected ‘customers’ to pay—entrepreneurship at its best.

This got me thinking perhaps we need a version of pretend play for adults (not the sexual type of pretend–although whatever floats your boat) to allow more space to imagine all that is possible.

My Wish

I wish you would start astonishingly that you do something to incite a look, a head tilt, and a line of questioning: Wait, you (fill in the blank)? And for you to say, yup, that’s me!  

I think of Bruce; he was right. Regret comes from not trying, from looking up at the scoreboard of life to realize you have zero points. I am not willing to live with a zero (regrets); I am capable of so much more, and so are you. Let’s light up the scoreboard together.

Keep Shooting,

Mic