"Get yo' head outta yo' ass!"

Recently, a friend asked me how things were going with my new photography business. I told him I couldn't be happier. He assumed I meant that I was booking shoots, and making a lot of money. He was wrong. I had to explain that I'm building a business, and it's going to be a long, but worthwhile process, but I am LOVING the process. True, I had made an attempt years ago, but my mindset was off. How off? Well, I thought that if I simply posted pretty pictures on Instagram, people would come knocking. That's what is referred to as Magical Thinking. Magical thinking is defined as the idea that one's thoughts, words, or actions can influence the real world. If I had that much power I wouldn't be typing...I'd be on a beach sipping gin and tonics wearing a diamond encrusted caftan while someone peeled grapes for me.

My father was often frustrated by the amount of magical thinking I entertained as a child, and more disturbed that it continued through my teenage years. Long story short: I grew up assuming I would lead an upper middle class lifestyle with minimal effort, and maximum results. For what? Just being me? I was that ridiculous. It took some hard knocks for me to learn otherwise, and one of those knocks was my father eloquently (through gritted teeth) stating "Boy, you bettah git yo' head outta yo' ass!" Crude, but my head was really up my own ass. I was stubborn, rife with self-pity, and determined to eat my feelings until I burst. I did a lot of eating.

For me to think I could run a successful business just on talent with no investment in education, or marketing, was pure magical thinking. Seems habits are hard to break, but I didn't believe that I could be a success. I didn't believe that I had any talent that others would find valuable enough to pay for despite the obvious proof, but I somehow believed I could post pics to social media, and business would boom? That's not a business plan, that's mental illness.

"So, what is different now?" I am not willing to entertain one negative thought. I can't afford it, and why entertain stupidity? Back in the day, I wouldn't date "Stupid", so why would I allow myself to get distracted by thoughts that don't serve me? It's certainly not easy. You have to make it a habit, but I'm sleeping better for it. Reminds me, I have to let my dad know that the head is out of the ass. Maybe he'll give me money?