AMA with Jordan Myska Allen. Wednesday 2/4 at 12:30pm CST
Founder and CEO of UpTrust, founder of Relatefulness... solving seemingly impossible social problems and having fun doing it
#heywait
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hH8D9l1s2BsAMA with Jordan Myska Allen. Wednesday 2/4 at 12:30pm CST
Founder and CEO of UpTrust, founder of Relatefulness... solving seemingly impossible social problems and having fun doing it
#heywait
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hH8D9l1s2Bsmmm +1 for graphic representation, especially if it's the fun interactive cluster kinda deal #dataisbeautiful (are # a thing here? haha; idc if cringe bc cringe is cool in its own way too, right?)
It's the littlest thing . . So this happened. . . How would you relate?
I recently purchased new kitchen appliances (yay me!). They were delivered today. Prior to their arrival, I had been sitting with a range of emotional states (from joy to fear to contentment, etc.) and body sensation that kept me energized.
When the new fridge and stove arrived, I felt my excitement again. Saying goodbye to the old, dated, dingy appliances was a joy. The stove looked amazing when it was installed. The fridge has french doors and bottom freezer, exactly what I wanted.
And. . . There is a noticeable ding on the left door of the fridge, subtle yet in plain sight! Yaaaaa! Everytime I see it (and it has only been a few hours), my body tenses up and there’s annoyance. I am told that I have 2 options, I can take $150 compensation for the ding and keep the fridge, or exchange the whole fridge (which means I need to take action and coordinate a whole new delivery). I feel frozen and indecisive. . . Which option do I take?, I ask myself.
It is really interesting how impacted I seem by this one little thing…. a ding.
How would you relate, if you did?
What's it like to post? Let's note! When I ask myself the question, What am I afraid of?
, all I notice is the non-verbal sensation. So, why not name that?
, I ask myself again. I sense space and a yes
. So, this is what I notice. The freeze in my chest, the heat in my face, the watery eyes, and the soft impulse to just shake it (which I am doing in between typing). There is a quiet, loving hold of my fear, and it seems to give me space. And now, I notice how I write. I write in full sentences, and I seem to make sense.
I now celebrate my first post.
What was it like for you while posting, whether it was your first post or your current one? I’m curious.