Trusting the Whoa

As I was preparing for my talk at the Butler Library, at a certain point I realized I was putting a lot of effort into what I said, my wording, what writing besides my books that I wanted to present… And likewise, I was putting effort into what I’d wear and whether I wanted shoes that matched or shoes that were comfortable. (I went with comfort, of course.)

Sometimes you just want the whole process to be simplified. But simple is not so easy. And as I was going through all of this rigmarole, at one point I even gave myself a pep talk in the mirror, saying, “You could show up in jeans and a t-shirt and everybody would love you. But you’d have to win them over if you do that.”

By “win them over,” I immediately thought of two things.

One:

I thought of Tim Fast, a folk singer from Minnesota who would show up to a music gig in jeans and boots looking like he just got off shift at a steel mill. And then he’d take out his guitar and open his mouth to sing and Whoa.

And we were totally won over.

Tim doesn’t need any flash or pomp and circumstance to get your attention. He’s that talented. Now, did he just do that, or did he spend countless hours in the background singing, playing, practicing, writing better songs… I don’t know the answer to that. But I’ve got a guess.

And Two:

When I moved back to Pennsylvania and got a job waiting tables to subsidize the writing of my children’s book, I had—as I do now—a slash of pink in my hair. No one at the restaurant was allowed to dye their hair a non-mainstream color and still keep their job. Some of the staff had even asked permission and were told no. And here I was, not subject to the rule because I arrived this way, and because I had a lot of experience selling wine in top-notch restaurants. Management was willing to look past the pink. But I knew I’d have to win over the serving staff, and that would take some effort. I’d need to be so well organized with my tables that I had free time to help others. So that’s what I set out to do. And pretty soon, I wasn’t just the pink-haired waitress with special treatment anymore. I was the person helping others clean their tables and run their food, the person they asked to talk to their tables about wine and the person who opened their wine bottles for them when they were too busy. From the start, I knew I could win the staff over. I knew we’d all be friends and they’d forget about my hair. And it was so. But not without effort in the background.

After I thought of these scenarios, some rapid-fire questions came to me. But they’re not the kind of questions you answer. They’re the kind you ask and let hover in the air, and then you take action. Any action at all.

Here we go:

Do you show up polished or do you forget about appearances and just show up, knowing that when you open your mouth you’ve got a very good chance of winning people over?

How often do you bet on yourself?

How much do you trust your whoa?

And in trusting the whoa, how much of that is really just a lot of hard work in the background sparkling for all to see when the stage lights go on?