The Business Bestie: pets, plush toys and Build.A.Fucking.Empire.

I don’t see her that often, and I have no idea if she minds being in my blogs. So I ll keep it as vague as possible.
But if you would ever meet her, my business bestie -let’s call her BB- the last thing you would think is “vague”.
Because she speaks her truth and her reasoning is razor sharp. There is no person in the world with whom I feel more at ease as with her. I am someone (aren’t we all?) who can pick up conflicting energies on what is being said.
Especially from people close to me, who hide those things because they wouldn’t see how it would contribute to our relationship. They don’t want to make their shit my problem.
But I can feel it’s there.
And then I go home and find myself going through everything I said, and what might have triggered their feelings of fear. A draining backlash.
I never have that with BB.
We do have other concerns; to not go too deep.
Because we understand each other so well, and neither one of us is covering things up. But also: neither one of us rests until we know why we are so sad or angry. Or why we are suddenly terrified by the success and responsibilities that lay before us. Our dinner dates have the intensity of a self-help shock therapy intensive:
You come out a different person.
You face paralyzing fears that you normally simply have to brush aside. That you can’t afford to pay too much attention to if you want to build your dream life. And not risk ending up in your rocking chair looking back thinking of all the things you didn’t do because you thought you would get hurt.
Except of course, every now and then you should face your biggest fear. And see it’s still as monstrous as the last time you checked. It may get you killed. Or worse. Yes, there is a worse, not going to share that one. But either way, you face all that shit and yet you do it anyway. 
Purpose is not negotiable.
And if you do make it to that rocking chair, you’ll have some great stories to tell.  Instead of a life that died inside of you.
Those are the things we speak about.
We purge our minds and reclaim our goals.
And then she excuses herself because she has to put her pet to bed.
Just like I had with my little cat Max, she has a pet who needs a lot of care right now. Which is why we met at her house: because she wants to be there for him as much as she can.
Cuddle, kiss, speak to him.
Feed him snacks and give him his medicine.
And at night she does an extra long session of all of those things, before she tucks him into his bench.

Kylo Ren in his travel pouch his grandma made him

When she’s back I tell her about my doll Kylo Ren.
I bought him after Max died, so that I had something to sleep with. And he could also keep me company on my travels. I have barely been out of the house the last years of Max’ life. When I became mobile again, I wanted something to support my new lifestyle.
Kylo Ren would sleep with me in hotel beds all over the world, go to book readings, and make us new friends by saying:
“Don’t be afraid. I feel it too.”
Because he speaks if you push his tummy.
“This is a him in his travel pouch,” I showed a photo of Kylo Ren to BB.
“My mother made that for him, because I asked. She did think it was a little weird, to make a doll pouch for her middle-aged daughter.”
“Oh no, Kylie has a plush.”
Kylie was one of her other business besties, and she had a plush bear about the size of Kylo Ren.
“But isn’t she some kind of executive?” I asked, slightly puzzled.
“Yes,” said BB.
As if it was completely normal for an executive to carry around a toy. BB explained that the bear had a sleeping bag.
“Just like yours.”
I still couldn’t fully grasp what she was saying.
“You mean she actually takes it to work?”
“Yes. It sits on her desk.”
Here we had it. Three women who were willing to face opposition and their own deaths if needed, to go after their dreams, who were also fully dedicated to looking after their elderly pets or their dolls.
And I suddenly realized how I had shown BB a paper in my mobile phone. It contained my daily schedule. It said:
1. messaging: write a blogpost
2. self-care: do yoga
3. BUILD. A. FUCKING. EMPIRE.
“I suppose most people would be ashamed to have it so visible,” I had said to BB.
Putting it out there, claiming it boldly, IN. CAPITALS., and not being discreet about my ambition, had been so liberating.
But when I saw the three totally badass business babes, taking care of pets and dolls in a way “normal” people would definitely shy away from, I realized what the connection was:
Not just that we were all facing much bigger battles than explaining why we had a doll sitting at our desk- but also:
If you’re facing your deepest fears in order to live your purpose, showing the outside world who you are is no longer something you could or could not do.
Being authentic is no longer an option.
If you’re going after your dreams, being fully you in all areas of your life, simply
becomes a must.
Don’t be afraid. I feel it too.

{ written in 2 hours, plus fifteen minutes on the Mandy Morris video at the bottom and half an hour of editing. }

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An Unexamined Life is Not Worth Living

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“Getergd door een rits onduidelijke medische klachten, besluit Lauren geen suiker meer te eten, geen Chardonnay meer te nemen, en geen latte macchiato’s meer te drinken. Na een paar weken is ze zo apathisch dat ze zelfs vergeet te masturberen. Tot een jonge Marokkaanse god op tv verschijnt die tegen Lauren zegt; “LauRRRen! WakkeRRR woRRRden! Ik ben ook schRRRijveRRR en ik heb ook een leuk leven!” Dat is zo. Sam doet de vier s’en. Hij schrijft, hij sport, hij sekst en hij slaapt. Ineens weet Lauren nog steeds niet waar het naartoe moet met haar leven, maar ze is wel klaarwakker. Zeker als ze erachter komt, dat Sam binnen een week een optreden geeft bij haar om de hoek. Sam doet haar denken aan een verboden relatie met haar leerling, iets waar ze gemengde gevoelens over heeft. Sam wil die best met haar onderzoeken, maar hij vraag een prijs…”
De Candystop

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