November’s Misfit Local

Carrie started Onefish Twofish, a B2B marketing company, when she was 25 years old. Three years later she had 13 employees and the company was turning over a million dollars. At the same time she was burning rubber as an elite cyclist. This might sound like a story of success; it wasn’t for Carrie. It was a story of striving, incredibly long working hours, sadness, and disconnection. She has told this story and her journey back to health and happiness for herself and her company, now 10 years old, in her TEDx talk.

However, Carrie is more than this one story. Yes, she has set up a business accelerator programme that is based on a new operating system for work, and is now on its second generation for entrepreneurs, as well as running a corporate version aimed at encouraging entrepreneurial thinking within employees. She is also looking at a new operating system for life, having cut sugar out of her diet. She loves snapchat, singing and surprises. And if there’s one surprise about Carrie, it’s her unfailing belief that our new operating system encompasses life, work, business and everything in between… and it’s surprisingly simple.

September’s Misfit Local

Sarah and Woody started The Utopian World of Sandwiches back in 2011. The Utopian World of Sandwiches is a games company with a difference: making games with a purpose that have a meaningful impact on their players. Their first game, Chompy Chomp Chomp, was created to bring people together in the same room. They work from a shed in their garden in Cambridge, balancing day jobs, friends, family and each other – and their utopian dream.

We’ll be talking about how meetings in the pub are a starting point for some of the best ideas, how they manage to play to each others’ strengths, and how Sarah manages to kick-ass in her day job whilst also leading their games revolution.

The scene is set – you walk into the room and scope it out: small clusters of people are dotted around the room; there are a few sideways glances as you, the newcomer, enter. You finally pluck up the courage to walk towards a group, which you reckon is the least intimidating, and ask to join them. And then it comes – the networking question to end all networking questions: ‘so… what do you do?’

Asking ‘That Question’ at Misfit Local events is actively discouraged. And why is that, you may ask? Well, let’s explore a little further. The great Maya Angelou once said “I’ve learned that making a ‘living’ is not the same thing as making a ‘life’”. In other words, what you do does not have to define you.

All around us, it may seem that people are doing what they want to do, what they’re good at, and getting paid for it. Or the opposite – people are making a living doing one thing, when their real passion is something else entirely. What do you do when your day job (or night shift!) is not your passion, and people ask you ‘That Question’? Sometimes it’s difficult to say what you do, because you feel that it’s only a means to an end. It may not be that its your life’s calling, passion or vocation – it may simply be that it pays the bills, rent or buys food. There’s that word, “only” – “it’s only a means to an end” or “it’s only a day job” or even “it’s only a job.” This implies some kind of value judgement that isn’t helpful for anyone.

Now, this may all seem like semantics, but the way you think and talk about your work has a powerful role to play in your well-being and self-worth – and therefore in your ability to work towards something different (if that’s what you want). Money you earn from your ‘day job’ will keep you sustained nutritionally and put a roof over your head whilst you plan, achieve and go after your dreams with determination and courage; Revel in the knowledge that whilst you may be doing this now, you won’t always be. Don’t become deterred if your dreams take longer than expected to come to fruition – as the old saying goes, ‘all good things take time’ – and find a supportive community that can help you stay focused and motivated.

On a personal note, I’ve had to learn to ‘enjoy the struggle’. I took a pay-cut from a high-flying corporate job to become part-time doing something I love. Whilst I may not be earning as much, I’ve definitely opened up a great deal of free time, and now find the time to look after myself better physically, mentally and socially, whilst pursuing other interests in these newly-acquired pockets of free time. Use the principle of hedonism to weigh up your options – pain now, for gain later? It worked for me, and I sure hope that it works for you too.

If you want to find a space to discuss ideas and dreams in an environment of support and non-judgement, or need a little extra input to get an idea off the ground, or are indeed weighing up the options for your next move towards living with purpose, come along to one of our Misfit Local events. Misfits are artists, writers, community workers, designers, entrepreneurs, coaches, activists and anyone who wants to live life with intention, doing work that matters. Maybe that’s you. If you do come along, just please remember not to ask ‘That Question’.

Click here to check out upcoming Misfit Local events in Cambridge.

This is an incredibly personal thank you from me to all of the Misfits at Misfit Con 2014. I’m unlikely to win an Oscar so you can view this as my Kate Winslet moment.
If you’re going to read on, I encourage you to read all the way to the end. If this isn’t your thing, then feel free to look away now, although I would encourage you to stay and breathe through.

Asking for help was a strong theme this year from the speakers. And this year, I had to ask for a lot of help – because of my own health condition, and because of Tracy’s anxiety. Not only did you all respond, you also helped in a myriad of other ways without even having to be asked. That means everything.

So thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you. It’s not possible for me to mention you all here, and there’s no way that I could possibly notice every way that you helped; that makes it even more special. For everything you did, big and small, own this gratitude. You are all awesome.

To Misfits. For caring more than any other human beings I have ever come across.

_ _ _

Tracy S – for surprising me. Every single day. And then some.

Louise B – for noticing, and knowing that the correct response was gin (maybe it’s always gin?). For running through O’Hare and alerting the gate we were on our way so we *just* made that flight home. While they said they didn’t hold the flight for us, I’m sure that they did, and your sprint made all the difference.

Gigi – also for noticing. And also for That Hug. Right when I needed it. In fact, there were at least two of those. And for making me go see 365, too, even though I was all over the place. It worked.

Jessie – for noticing. And then bringing a bagel, stat. And understanding.

Gigi and Jean – for being the best roomies. Ever.

Michael – for driving and wheelchair-sourcing and transporting. And for just getting it. And getting on with it. Such a beautiful kind heart.

Michael, Israel, Jesse – for top notch wheelchair driving, and stepping in at the drop of a hat.

Greg and family and friends – for making Dinner in the Woods supremely easy. The most beautiful of welcomes. And achieving what we have never been able to achieve. More on that separately.

Erik – for that speech, right before Lemonade Detroit, right from the heart.
And for not judging the slightly crazy lady who had to keep running off to do obscure “jobs.” And for being the greatest mo… You know the rest.

Jackie, Ria, Maisie – for sheer persistence, never giving up, and following your instincts. You played it exactly right.

Amy – for the joy, and that laugh. Own it.

Jenni and Terry – just because.

Nichole, Randi, Mark, Melissa – for handling all the random postcard requests – we got there in the end. Nichole – they made it! Thank you so much!

Deb C – for crying at the perfect moment, and giving me permission to cry, too. Which meant that I could tell Tracy just what I thought of everything she had achieved at that point. Awesome.

Jackie – for saying yes. And for painting. And painting, and painting.

Deb B – I can’t remember why. But it was definitely in Atomic Coffee, it was awesome, and it was at exactly the right time.

Katrina – for getting right on The Internets, stat.

Genie – for the space to talk about my dad. For being real.

The lady from Misfit on the plane from Fargo who told me you “gave us” your flight as you’d already missed yours – you probably still don’t know that we made it. Or that I don’t know your name.

Sukhneet and Sergio – for not being afraid to say ‘Hi’ right at the end. Some of my closest misfits are the ones I met right at the end last year. It’s never too late.

Brett and Amber – for pulling me out of my reverie. And Brett, for the honesty. Always.

Jeremy and Weston – for the randomness.

Sally – for getting it. Let’s talk more.

Nathalie – for being you.

Aaron – for the wine. And dinner. And the cute photos of your kids. It is truly an awesome thing to be your honorary sister.

Israel – for doing what you do better than anyone. And for the honesty.

Laura – for the space. And the hot chocolate.

Nelson – for the fun. So much fun. And the tea. And breakfast. And That Photo.

Photo @dewittn. Lou really loves this vending machine.

And for talking me down from the ledge. Which meant that this post happened. And for being the most generous person I have ever met. Ever.

Tracy B – for my lunch, which was perfect.

Jonathan – for That Guided Meditation. I have never felt so present before. It has never stayed with me for as long.

Jason and C.C. – for the honesty. And C.C., for that scream.

Clay – for giving us precious time at the last moment, and getting us to up our game.

Claudia – for That Opening Performance. Bring it.

The people I didn’t meet – for giving me space. It would have been too much to meet everyone and you knew that. And don’t let that stop you reaching out now, ok? You’ll know when.

AJ and Melissa – for believing. I trusted the process, trusted Misfit, trusted you. Thank you for trusting me, too.

All of you who shared the crowd-funding link, or donated, or both – thank you thank you thank you. Some of your dads donated. That’s so Misfit.

To Misfits. Who do more, feel more, care more. I love you all the more.

_ _ _

Postscript:

If you’re reading this and you weren’t at Misfit, this may make very little sense to you. Maybe it makes little sense to you, even if you were there, and you read someone else’s thank you. In a way, that’s the point; these are personal thank you’s, tied to very personal acts of kindness. My hope is that you ask for personal kindness in your own life, notice it, and acknowledge it. The reward is greater than the risk.

 Interviewing AJ Leon was a very special event for me. My name is Martyn Sibley and alongside Lou Shackleton from the YouCan Hub, we organised and delivered a special Cambridge night at Hot Numbers recently. Here’s my take on the night.

My introduction for anyone not familiar with my blog or Disability Horizons magazine is this – I’m a dude in a wheelchair, who travels the world, runs e-projects on disability matters and just loves life.

Enough of my story though. None of my blogging, tweeting and world changing exploits would be possible without AJ, his awesome wife Melissa and his groundbreaking company Misfit-Inc. Back in July 2009 I approached AJ at the Institute of Fundraising convention following a breathtaking presentation. I shared a vision of empowering disabled people, and he saw potential. After a Starbucks meet up; we chatted, dreamed, agreed to collaborate and stated to never give up!

AJ and his crew run a digital agency, carry out social humanitarian work, encourage artistic creativity and travel the world beyond belief. They’re never in their New York home! 

Having launched his book: the event, a Cambridge Misfits meet up if you like, brought together like-minded people and gave me a personal chance to show my gratitude of AJ and also find out some new things too.

The former part was easy. Since the Misfits supported me creatively, strategically and instilled confidence we have chatted, laughed and got drunk numerous times. Our friendship runs deep and dreams remain.

The latter was an interesting one. Lou and I had base questions. However the best of interviews and questions tend to be off the cuff. I enjoyed asking him if everyone should be Misfits, to which he replied “yes but not everyone will be”. I also loved his recounting of how we must live this one life the best way because even if you believe in reincarnation, we only get one chance. In acknowledgement of his depth but also the seriousness in the room I lightened the atmosphere with the random statement “I agree, it’s not possible to tweet when you’re a snail”. A testament to our philosophy and humour.

I felt as though the audience were stunned as to what AJ stood for, what he has achieved and how his character embraced everyone. More so, the questions showed intrigue, an appetite for more Misfit gold dust and a general demand for more of this vibe of an evening.

Working with Lou was a pleasure. She’s a true Misfit too. I hope we can recapture such an evening again in the future. Whilst AJ returns to his life journey I know he sparked people the way he did with my dream in 2009. On leaving Hot Numbers, the buzz in the room was incredible.

For me, the key take-aways were: dream big, never give up, love life!

Want to see more about the night? Check out the storify here.

Last December, my husband signed me up for the gym. I didn’t manage to make it there at all that month and I finally had my induction in January. I wasn’t exactly over the moon with the whole gym idea. For a long time I’d been convinced that I’d reached the fitness limits of my health condition; I’d had lots of tweaks of medication over the years and was told, “Some people just feel rubbish on the medication you’re taking, because it’s not the same as your body making it yourself.” I’ve been running for a few years now, which has helped, but I was stuck at running around 2km.

I surprised myself quite quickly at the gym and despite being unable to lift a cup of tea to my lips the day after my first strength session, there were almost immediate gains in my energy levels. And so, in September, I set myself a challenge – an Impossible challenge. To make the shift from running 2.5km on a regular basis to trying my first 5km run.

I started my training schedule, with a date firmly in the diary at the end of October. It was all going so well. I rocketed through the training and my energy levels rocketed too. At the beginning of October, I wrote in my journal…

“Up to last week I still felt unsure about running 5km. It seemed a big jump from running 2.5km, 3km. Can I really do this? From my running rate it seems that it’s going to take me 40-45 minutes. Am I fit enough? Yesterday on the treadmill, I managed 3.9km and it started to feel real. But then, today, I totally surprised myself. I walked for 5 minutes, ran for 25 minutes, walked for 5 minutes… and at the end the treadmill dashboard said it loud and proud – I did 5k! This is it! I feel certain now, 100% certain that I will finish the run and still be standing. I might even enjoy it! I might even do it in a good time!”

It was amazing! I felt invincible! But since then, this challenge has been more about patience, flexibility, and healing. First, I started getting a niggle in my heel. I listened to it, and eased off on the training. I reduced the amount I was cycling. Then I picked up a throat infection, just three days before my run date. It all happened very quickly and before I knew it I had sky high fever and difficulty swallowing. The pharmacist dispatched me to a walk-in clinic and the duty doctor made a “Ugh” sound with accompanying facial expression when he looked at my tonsils – antibiotics for me, and no chance of a run. I shifted the date a few weeks down the line, needing to have total rest for a week. Then after my rest, feeling much better, I started back into my training and my heel flared up in a major way. I took it really easy with my training and got some tips via the Internets from my cousin Aimee over at Revitalise Fitness; these really helped and it stopped getting worse, but it still didn’t get better.

It was time to call in the big guns, and get some in-person physio. I checked in with Tom at Core Fitness, and it turned out to be a classic beginner runner’s injury, my Achilles. There was nothing serious, just some early warning signs. The tips from my cousin were perfect, I just needed a couple of extra exercises. It was time to do some learning – learning how to better prepare my body for running, and help it to restore afterwards. And absolutely no 5k until I could consistently run 3k without pain the next day.

My date got shifted again. Serious frustration alert! Am I ever going to be able to do this run? I had two potential November dates in my mind, and they both had to get swept aside again. I did a fair amount of huffing and puffing and whingeing – mostly to my husband, Mel and Ruth at You Can, and my fellow Impossibles in our facebook group. They encouraged me to hang in there. I responded well to the exercises I was given, and in two weeks I was back to running with no pain. Result! Excitement, but still taking it easy and some words of caution from the physio – you’re lucky, you caught it early, you probably feel like it’s all back to normal but it’s going to take a while to settle down so don’t do anything to shock it. So I’m staying away from my bike until after my run, because cycling seems to make it worse, and I’m being super-good about my warm ups and cool downs, and I’ve been slowly increasing the distance with a mix of walk-running.

And now, here I am. The day before D-Day. Or is that 5K-Day? I’m actually going to do it. And I haven’t run or walk-run 5k since that amazing day on the treadmill back in October. James Altucher writes that it takes practice to be the person who is a source of compassion and honesty. This journey towards my Impossible could have been about pushing through, just powering on to stick to my committed date. But defeating my nemesis, the Robot of Mediocrity, isn’t always about fighting. I’ve learned much more by doing things this way – being honest with myself, showing myself compassion, letting myself heal and learning new ways to be compassionate to myself – even in the way that I prepare for and wind down from a run. I’m also in awe of the compassion and generosity of my friends, family, and supporters who have continued to back me with messages and donations – as for an extra level of accountability, I decided to make my challenge a sponsored event to raise funds for our work.

I hope that I show myself this same level of compassion tomorrow, whatever my time. For now, the predominant feeling is: Eek!

Wish me luck.

_ _ _

You can read James Altucher on patience here. And yes – maybe, just maybe, I’m on my way to becoming a Jedi Knight. And that beats running a 5k, any day!

And of course there’s still time to make a donation, if you’d like 🙂 Head on over to my sponsorship page here and hit the big orange “Donate now” button, and any donation up to £10 will be matched by our local community foundation, so you can double your money. Serious feel good factor! With match funding and gift aid I’ve already raised over £1000. So thank you to you fabulous donors!

If you want to take on your own challenge soon and you want some friendly support, check out the Impossibles. Your challenge doesn’t have to be sponsored and you can have a whole lot of fun along the way!

Last December, my husband signed me up for the gym. I didn’t manage to make it there at all that month and I finally had my induction in January. I wasn’t exactly over the moon with the whole gym idea. For a long time I’d been convinced that I’d reached the fitness limits of my health condition; I’d had lots of tweaks of medication over the years and was told, “Some people just feel rubbish on the medication you’re taking, because it’s not the same as your body making it yourself.” I’ve been running for a few years now, which has helped, but I was stuck at running around 2km.

I surprised myself quite quickly at the gym and despite being unable to lift a cup of tea to my lips the day after my first strength session, there were almost immediate gains in my energy levels. And so, in September, I set myself a challenge – an Impossible challenge. To make the shift from running 2.5km on a regular basis to trying my first 5km run.

I started my training schedule, with a date firmly in the diary at the end of October. It was all going so well. I rocketed through the training and my energy levels rocketed too. At the beginning of October, I wrote in my journal…

“Up to last week I still felt unsure about running 5km. It seemed a big jump from running 2.5km, 3km. Can I really do this? From my running rate it seems that it’s going to take me 40-45 minutes. Am I fit enough? Yesterday on the treadmill, I managed 3.9km and it started to feel real. But then, today, I totally surprised myself. I walked for 5 minutes, ran for 25 minutes, walked for 5 minutes… and at the end the treadmill dashboard said it loud and proud – I did 5k! This is it! I feel certain now, 100% certain that I will finish the run and still be standing. I might even enjoy it! I might even do it in a good time!”

It was amazing! I felt invincible! But since then, this challenge has been more about patience, flexibility, and healing. First, I started getting a niggle in my heel. I listened to it, and eased off on the training. I reduced the amount I was cycling. Then I picked up a throat infection, just three days before my run date. It all happened very quickly and before I knew it I had sky high fever and difficulty swallowing. The pharmacist dispatched me to a walk-in clinic and the duty doctor made a “Ugh” sound with accompanying facial expression when he looked at my tonsils – antibiotics for me, and no chance of a run. I shifted the date a few weeks down the line, needing to have total rest for a week. Then after my rest, feeling much better, I started back into my training and my heel flared up in a major way. I took it really easy with my training and got some tips via the Internets from my cousin Aimee over at Revitalise Fitness; these really helped and it stopped getting worse, but it still didn’t get better.

It was time to call in the big guns, and get some in-person physio. I checked in with Tom at Core Fitness, and it turned out to be a classic beginner runner’s injury, my Achilles. There was nothing serious, just some early warning signs. The tips from my cousin were perfect, I just needed a couple of extra exercises. It was time to do some learning – learning how to better prepare my body for running, and help it to restore afterwards. And absolutely no 5k until I could consistently run 3k without pain the next day.

My date got shifted again. Serious frustration alert! Am I ever going to be able to do this run? I had two potential November dates in my mind, and they both had to get swept aside again. I did a fair amount of huffing and puffing and whingeing – mostly to my husband, Mel and Ruth at You Can, and my fellow Impossibles in our facebook group. They encouraged me to hang in there. I responded well to the exercises I was given, and in two weeks I was back to running with no pain. Result! Excitement, but still taking it easy and some words of caution from the physio – you’re lucky, you caught it early, you probably feel like it’s all back to normal but it’s going to take a while to settle down so don’t do anything to shock it. So I’m staying away from my bike until after my run, because cycling seems to make it worse, and I’m being super-good about my warm ups and cool downs, and I’ve been slowly increasing the distance with a mix of walk-running.

And now, here I am. The day before D-Day. Or is that 5K-Day? I’m actually going to do it. And I haven’t run or walk-run 5k since that amazing day on the treadmill back in October. James Altucher writes that it takes practice to be the person who is a source of compassion and honesty. This journey towards my Impossible could have been about pushing through, just powering on to stick to my committed date. But defeating my nemesis, the Robot of Mediocrity, isn’t always about fighting. I’ve learned much more by doing things this way – being honest with myself, showing myself compassion, letting myself heal and learning new ways to be compassionate to myself – even in the way that I prepare for and wind down from a run. I’m also in awe of the compassion and generosity of my friends, family, and supporters who have continued to back me with messages and donations – as for an extra level of accountability, I decided to make my challenge a sponsored event to raise funds for our work.

I hope that I show myself this same level of compassion tomorrow, whatever my time. For now, the predominant feeling is: Eek!

Wish me luck.

_ _ _

You can read James Altucher on patience here. And yes – maybe, just maybe, I’m on my way to becoming a Jedi Knight. And that beats running a 5k, any day!

And of course there’s still time to make a donation, if you’d like 🙂 Head on over to my sponsorship page here and hit the big orange “Donate now” button, and any donation up to £10 will be matched by our local community foundation, so you can double your money. Serious feel good factor! With match funding and gift aid I’ve already raised over £1000. So thank you to you fabulous donors!

If you want to take on your own challenge soon and you want some friendly support, check out the Impossibles. Your challenge doesn’t have to be sponsored and you can have a whole lot of fun along the way!

Remember The Impossibles and how a small group of ordinary superheroes are taking on challenges that they think are super super hard? Well, Ruth has now completed hers thanks to friends and jelly babies…

Ruth really does love anything cycling related and her favourite way to get around is on her two wheeled, basket on front, proper Cambridge towny bike (we’re still waiting on her tweed suit to match!). With coordinating You Can Bike Too and her own leisurely cycling combined, I’m not sure there are many people who think about bikes quite as much as Ruth! So when we asked her if she wanted to set herself an impossible challenge, surprise surprise, it was cycling related! This towny cyclist was going to ride 62 miles from Cambridge to Kings Lynn through the Fens!

And by golly she has gone and done it!

You might be surprised by Ruth’s response below, she certainly was. Have you ever done something big and then felt a little….disappointed?

Ruth made it to Kings Lynn!

“I did it! And, you know, I’m not sure if I’m surprised with myself or not…which seems a bit odd to me. I thought I’d be amazed, giving myself a huge pat on the back for achieving my ‘Impossible’. Instead, I feel more like, ‘yep I did well’. Sure, while I was peddling past Denver Sluice it felt like a challenge.. but now, it actually feels like it was easier than I thought it would be.I’ve been trying to work out why I feel like this. Is it because I knew I could do it before I set off? Sure, maybe there is an element of that but I still feel a little disappointed that I have not got a ‘wow, that was incredible’ feeling.

So how do I feel about my cycle ride?

As I was cycling I had the song sung by Lou Reed going around my head – ‘It’s such a perfect day’! I thought about how lucky I was to be outdoors, seeing huge grey skies that threatened rain. I felt warmth in the knowledge that my legs were working smoothly doing a good job! Although the mud on the road and the potato picking machines made me nervous, I admired the fact that they brought the ‘extra’ challenge to me – staying on my bike! I felt ‘soothed’ by the fact that all those people had sponsored me – they had faith in my abilities… They ‘carried’ me along!

What has been amazing, what has really given me the ‘wow’ factor is people’s willingness to ‘back’ me. Whether it be financially (money raised is going to You Can) and/or with lovely encouraging words – I value both equally. I have had such lovely comments said to me either about the way I work or the cause that I am raising funds for…it’s hard to measure that impact.

So the bike ride is done! But the ‘takeaway’ for me was more than the money and was more than the 62 miles I peddled! Thank you to all those people in my ‘world’ that believed in me. You have reminded me of the importance of letting others know what a great job they are doing too. Having people believe in me feels really good and I want others to have that feeling too!

And one last big thank you from my bike to Ben Haywards for treating it with the kindness and attention it needed before the big ride!”

So, Ruth’s Impossible started as a personal challenge where she figured she’d have to pull on some incredible inner strength from somewhere to succeed. But really, what got her through this challenge was more about community. It’s the pats on the back, the ‘you can do it’ attitude of her friends and acquaintances – oh and a few jelly babies which she says without she “may not have gotten past 10 Mile Bank”! We are all very proud of Ruth for completing this challenge and excited to help her complete many more in the future.

What personal challenge are you currently taking on, or thinking about taking on? Does it seem daunting and out of the reach of one human being? Well, if Ruth’s story is anything to go by then perhaps all of our challenges would seem less impossible – more possible – if we were to surround ourselves with a supportive community.

Need a community of do gooders who are experts in cheering each other on? Perhaps you’d like to take part in The Impossibles.

Who needs to lift a bike when it has its own gutter!

Ruth’s supportive community – in jelly form!

It’s all adventure in the fens!

Pic by flickr user Zenilorac

Being different isn’t being better.

I have spent my whole life running away from ‘supposed to’, ‘should’ and ‘just because’. I feel different. I feel like I think differently. I don’t feel like I fit in. Not surprisingly, I often hear negative ‘voices’, misinterpretations of ‘me’ being ‘me’.

“You are just seeking the limelight”

“You want to be different just because”

“Well, it’s alright for some”

“You are getting people’s hopes up. Setting them up for failure”

“It’s just a phase, go off and do your adventures and then you’ll come back to reality”

The worst one of all is: “You think you are so much better than everyone else” or “what gives you the right to think differently. You think you are so special”.

Does any of this sound familiar? Have you heard these negative “voices”? Admittedly, while I have heard people say some of the above, many of them are my own fears about what people think. Sometimes, I think I can see it in their eyes. My greatest fear is that because I can see things in a different way, because I challenge the way things are done, people think that I believe I am better than them.

But I am NOT better.

In fact, in all honesty, for much of the time I feel not better than others, but worse. I feel like an outcast. My self doubt is my own worst enemy. Trust me on this. I often feel like I have no right to challenge the ‘systems’… but I can’t help myself. It’s the way my mind works, the way I think.

A lot of what I choose to do, I do partly because it is different… but never ‘just because’. When me and my crew of ordinary superheroes started The You Can Hub, we were keen to do things differently. This is a huge part of who we are. With this, I frequently feel terrified that people might think I am putting myself on a pedestal above the rest. Do you ever get this feeling? How often are you shaking in your boots out of fear that someone might think that you are special? Or worse, that they think that you think you are special?

I don’t believe in pedestals. I battle hierarchy every day. I believe that everyone can, that we all have an incredible gift to share with the world that only we as individuals can do in our own unique way. Everyone has an ability, a unique superpower perhaps. If people are put on pedestals then it means that they are somehow better than the rest. More importantly, it means that they are making others feel small. I never want anybody to feel small, because I know what it feels like.

One day recently, I realised that I am not putting myself on a pedestal. I am putting the imagined responses of other people on a pedestal. Well, frankly, that’s ridiculous.

It’s time to kick the pedestal from under my fears and from under yours too.

Let’s look at our strengths with new courage. Thinking and seeing things differently is my superpower. My natural curiosity means I ask different questions, which in turn helps others think differently too. Give me an idea and I can see it happening in the future. I see potential in everyone – yes, in you too. Being able to visualise this potential happening means that I get rather excited and I can’t help but try to show you this new world too.

So if these are my gifts, my superpowers, then it is my duty to share them with the world and to use them as much as possible. Yes, I think I am different in the way that I do these things. But you are different in the way that you do something too. We each have unique gifts and it is integral that we humbly share them with the world.

What are your superpowers? Do you feel different? Do you battle with the same inner demons and fears of judgement? What or who are you putting on a pedestal and how will you *kick it? Write your thoughts in the comments below. By talking about them we make them more real, we make them tangible and it’s a hell of a lot easier to “kick it” together.

Watch out world, here we come!

*Warning, I imagine kicking a real physical pedestal would hurt…a lot. Maybe stick to the metaphor!

The Life and Times of a Remarkable Misfit is coming to Cambridge!

Not only that, but Princess of Organising Chaos over at Misfit Inc, Jessie White, has put together this awesome poster.

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Misfit friends, new or long-standing, are invited to join us – if you would like more information and a free ticket head over to our booking page!