I’ve always been a little hippy-dippy in regards to “signs”. I pay attention; I trust my gut. I’m Ace of Base - I see the signs. I believe in the stars aligning. I believe in a greater force urging me to do or go toward something. I guess I believe in a little bit of magic. I feel especially aware when something happens to me in threes. Currently, my spidey senses are alarming over the word “scrappy”.
A week or so ago my son, Jackson, was lecturing me about who knows what (probably my lack of knowledge on something he deems cool) - and I reminded him that I’m no fool. “I’m scrappy”. I told him. “I can figure shit out.”
Hi, I’m Disney - But instead of movies, I vault phrases. Every seven years or so they pop back out of me and I overuse them until they’re forced back into hiding. Scrappy is this kind of word - it’s been locked away for a good chunk of time. When I said it out loud to Jackson, it lingered. Scrappy. It felt pronounced. Enough so that I paid it some attention. Spidey tingle score: I feel you.
So a little tidbit about me - I am obsessed with podcasts. I listen to about 600 shows, on varying topics, because A) It’s sort of like having an adult conversation (because they use big words) and B) It sure helps pass the time when you’re stuck folding endless piles of laundry. I’m a morbid soul and I tend to flock to shows about violent crimes (yikes). My husband was out of town for a few days, and after a long night convinced there were snipers outside of my windows ... I decided to change it up. I stumbled on a podcast about business failures/successes which led me down a rabbit hole of new shows. I can’t recall what I was listening to exactly, but two gals were chatting it up about business, and one of them used the word scrappy - as in, ya gotta be scrappy if you want to succeed. Spidey tingles: Yup. Uh huh.
A little back context - I adore my father in law, Tom. I should write an entire post about why he’s the most amazing human (because he is) and one day I hope I will. For now, let’s stay on topic. I reached out yesterday because I needed some advice. He’s written a book, published a book, and so I sought out his thoughts on where to begin my own journey. After a little back and forth he sent me this, “I’m going to say you are an eagle. Eagles are people who are really good, and feel like they have to be perfect on the first try. They usually do extremely well but they don’t get to the very top. Squirrels get to the very top. Squirrels are scrappy and have to fight and fail and learn. Become a squirrel.” SPIDEY. TINGLES.
So here I am. I don’t want to be a dumb eagle. I’m going to embrace my inner squirrel and put myself out there and launch into the unknown. I’ll figure it out as I go along because, well, scrappy.
Today I put scrappy on for wear and changed my many-years-old-instagram-handle after pulling the trigger on a pen name (that my family thinks is ridiculous). I don’t know how to design a website, but damnit that didn’t stop me. I made a mess of this blog over the course of 24 hours, bought a new domain (I mean, so tech savvy) and feel decent about how it all turned out. Ya know why? Scrappy.
Let it Gooooo. So scrappy.
The cold never botherd me scrappy-way.
Probs need to send the word back to the vault. But the lesson is here to stay. Scrappy.