“You mean you think people are going to pay you just to hang out with you?” he asked.

“Yes,” I replied.

The conversation took place fifteen years ago, and I still remember how delicious that single word felt flowing from my mouth.

 

Yes.

 

No explanation. No rationalization. No knee-jerk attempts at justifying my worth as a person or a coach.

Just YES.

 

You’re damn straight I want people to pay me just to hang out with me, just for being me, for doing whatever it is that I do. In fact, I don’t want to even have to describe what I do or try to define it. I just want everything to work out because I want it to.

 

I realize now that the exact phrasing of my friend’s question clarified my desire in an instant. Ironically, he coached me just by being himself and being curious. Over the years, this sense of clarity paid huge dividends. The decisions I’ve made from this point of clarity have made my life easier, much more fun, and put a lot of money in my pocket.

To be clear, while I immediately felt the alignment of this grand new desire, I had to catch up with it over time. I wasn’t ready to allow so much goodness into my life right away, especially as the rest of the world seemed to tell me the flaws with my desire.

Why would anyone pay you for that?

The real world doesn’t work that way.

You need to come up with an elevator speech to explain to people exactly what it is that you do.

What makes you so special?

You can’t be in business and make money without a clear plan.

Why would any normal person hire a coach?

 

But once the desire is clear, there is no turning back. This is the power of clarity. You can wrestle with it, or find a way to line up with it. (I recommend the latter.)

 

Yesterday’s desire is today’s reality.

I have wonderful relationships with people I really enjoy from all over the world. What makes these connections especially wonderful is that we both get exactly what we came to the experience for without the bother of trying to articulate any of it. It’s so cool. So easy. So freeing.

My job is to be me.

And people pay me to hang out. They pay me well. They pay me happily.

 

What’s the real work been? When you drop out of a “reality” that most everyone else accepts as TRUE, you’re going to feel vulnerable. The real work is to cultivate the willingness to experience feelings of vulnerability. After all, when you decide to drop out, that makes you a dropout. And that’s not always the easiest thing to be.

 

You can have anything you allow yourself to desire.

It’s not magic.

It’s just the work of allowing.