There’s a question in the worksheets for the Mastermind I’m in that asks, “Who are you, really? And is that who you want to be?” I am hard-pressed to answer.
Pressed, perhaps, to have some great big shiny answer that I just don’t know how to provide?
For the nth time in my life, I watched Sex and the City from Season 1 over the last week. And it was so good to do so. Not just because I love the characters and revisiting the plot feels like a homecoming but because of the clear evolution. The lives of the four main characters – their style, their homes, and even the lighting on the sets – all evolved from Season 1.
In earlier seasons Carrie wears a lot more “unstylish” garb at home. In those scenes she’s in her apartment, she’s wearing a flannel and undies, or a sleeveless band t-shirt with plaid pants. Later it’s beautiful nightgowns that she “styles up” with accessories. Her “I look like shit moment” where she ran from Berger in Season 5 before calling him to meet her for their first date was barely a “shit”-look.
What I do notice now as I watch it is that she didn’t drive the evolution of her career as clearly or intentionally as she did her style. She got a call in Season 5 from her editor about a publisher wanting to turn her column into a book. She hadn’t put together book proposals and submitted them to an agent first. (A process I know because I studied it deeply when a high school senior/college freshman.)
By the time we find Carrie again in the first movie, she’s written and published 3 books!
Why do I now, as I contemplate the plot, wish the writers of the show had written it so that Carrie had done more to drive the evolution of her career with obvious intention and initiating action?
Ahh, because I’ve never seen great things I desired come to fruition without my initiating action. (According to Human Design, as a “Projector,” I’m not supposed to initiate.)
Do I not trust God to give me a bigger career than I’ve got? Do I not trust that letting things unfold will be satisfying?
Why don’t I?
Well, it also just seems like it would be FUN to consciously conceive of my evolution and bring it about.
But I’m stuck like Carrie seemed to have been, thinking of herself (and speaking to others), like, “Oh, I write a little column in the paper about sex.”
Self-deprecation isn’t the expansive, life-giving vibe I want to cultivate, that’s for dang sure.
The other day I did start to write an answer to the question of Who Are You, and I am feeling expanded and excited about the answer. It came out like I was writing new about copy for my website. Check it out:
“Hi, my name is Rosella LaFevre. I’m a best-selling author of books that help you fix your head & your heart. They’re not easy books. They’re works that challenge you so you may be refined by fire as are all precious metals. My loves, what will life be like with a little refining fire?!”
If there were no limits and nothing I wanted were bad or wrong, what would I choose to be, do and have now?
Let’s have fun with these questions. Envision an evolved Rosella, or an evolved whoever-you-are-ya-cute-thing. Just because my career model (who happened to be a fictional character) didn’t seem to steer her own career evolution doesn’t mean I can’t or shouldn’t envision an evolution of my own or of my whole life.