“She’s capitalizing on her mom’s death.”
“Why is she talking about these journals so much?”
“If these journals are so important, why is she even charging for them? Shouldn’t important things people need be free?”
I’ve heard everything you see above as I’ve marketed the Questions You’ll Wish You Asked journals in the last few weeks.
Why do I let someone talk to me like that, you ask?
Well, that person is me.
Though I’ve done loads of the confidence-building/trauma healing/negative-self-talk-squashing self-work that I believe in so full heartedly, my mind is still — as Anne Lamott so aptly phrased it— a “dangerous neighborhood” that I must navigate with caution.
Thoughts like these are a product of the “committee” of naysayers in my head.
I used to think that one day those voices would just disappear - that I’d be healed enough to no longer have massive doubt, self-consciousness, and judgement.
And though there are lots of people and books that might say otherwise, I don’t actually think those voices are going away anymore.
I think something even cooler now: I don’t have to listen to them. I can live a big and juicy life even while they yap at me.
So can you.
I now know that these voices are like a crappy co-pilot who’s always convincing me I’m gonna crash the plane.
Now I can be like “hey, I know you’re scared, and I know you’re just trying to keep us safe — I know that, I love you for that, and I’m also gonna challenge all that craptastic stuff you’re saying.”
I ask that frantic copilot to stop screaming WE’RE ALL GONNA DIE and head to the back of the plane to take a nap. Then I invite Truth and Beauty and Groundedness to fly with me.
How do I get those way better copilots?
By identifying, questioning, and reframing my craptastic thoughts.
For example, identifying the thought “She’s capitalizing on her mom’s death.”
Do I actually believe that’s true?
No.
Do I think that other writers who talk about/sell books about grief are “capitalizing on death?”
No.
Rather, I think reading about other writers’ grief has transformed and helped my own.
And regarding feeling weirdness around money and getting paid for these journals - do I really think anything important should be free?
Only because I’ve been conditioned to value some things over others.
For example, do I expect my doctor’s visits, oil changes, or the groceries I buy to be free?
No.
Though I give tons of books away, I know that accepting payment for the journals is allowing me to keep creating more, to take care of my family, to pay for the oil changes and groceries and doctor’s visits my family needs. I know that lots of us have “money is bad” thoughts and now I get to question those as just a judgment - and it’s one that’s keeping a lot of good people broke.
I get to challenge my crappy thoughts, and so do you. And recently, something helped push this along for me:
I came across these words and thought about how the journals really aren’t about me at all, but instead about the people filling them out…and their family, their memories, and their future.
⭕️ I am talking about these journals for the person who is going to lose a loved one in the next few years and doesn’t know it.
⭕️ I keep posting because there’s a mom out there who (like me) manages her anxiety about her children’s future by writing to their someday-adult selves.
⭕️ I keep talking about these journals because someday, somewhere, a person’s kids are going to page through this journal and feel closer to their mom, their dad, their life, and their memory.
Reviews like these are the outer reminders to get my ego out of the way and keep talking about these journals. Challenging the toxic copilot talk is the inner work that keeps me on course.
Today, I invite you to look for the outer proof that your dream belongs in the world, and to do the inner work of continuing to bring it forth.
I believe in you.
And guess what? I think you should order a journal for someone this holiday.
These journals are changing lives and I want them to change yours.
xo
Melissa
PS: Here are a few things to brighten your holiday season…
Beautiful Chorus released a Christmas album and it’s absolutely gorgeous. Check it out here.
Watch this movie if you want to crack up, shed a few tears, and marvel at the complex beauty of family. It’s been a favorite of mine since the nineties and I think you should watch it too.
Here’s a photo of my family and I in chicken suits on the side of a fun run this past Thanksgiving. We do this every year.
If you’re looking for a natural high, I can’t recommend dressing like a weirdo and cheering on unknown runners enough. If you do this, please take photos.
