Chapter 1: Introduction
If you’d like to listen to this lesson, rather than read it, here’s the link!
There are many mistakes and errors in it. I chose to leave them partly because it’s so goddamn long, and partly because it’s real. It’s raw.
It’s a conversation from me to you.
I hope you enjoy.
Brace for Impact
This is a story.
It’s the end of my story - one of my stories - and the beginning of yours.
Each of us is comprised of many such stories.
This one starts with pain… and fear.
This story starts with me lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, with the sharp pangs of terror slicing through every nerve of my body.
I can’t move.
I can barely breathe.
I’m remembering a time in my old room in Utah, situated at the front of a small, unassuming house in an aging neighborhood.
The room is bright, filled at every corner with daylight. To my left, an image of shame - an industrial-sized vat of spiced rum. On a day like today, I won’t leave bed before starting in on it.
My feet touch the floor for the first time to reach for the bottle.
I drink enough of it to slow my heart rate and dull the screaming despair.
The sky is falling and I’m the only one who can stop it. If I don’t, everything bad that happens on the world stage is my fault.
In case you don’t know what a schizophrenic-fueled messianic complex looks like… this is what it looks like.
This is how this story starts.
Everything that’s about to happen happens because of this twisted panic.
That particular bout of alcoholism was… fuck… 5-ish years ago? I honestly don’t remember.
After intensive psychiatric and medicinal intervention, the hallucinations have all but stopped, yet that messianic feeling of tortured duty persists.
Except now it’s different.
I shut off the news several months ago, but people still tell me the news, and it isn’t good. This time around, I’m not the only one who has that impending sense of catastrophe.
But I’ve had more time to think about it than most.
My mind is a constant push and pull between logic and belief.
Logic tells me that there is no such thing as fate. Logic informs me of cause and effect. Parameters. Starting conditions. Mental illness.
Belief tells me that the universe has expectations… and I’m meant to fulfill them.
Logic tells me that fires are coming - a lot of them - and I must be clever to survive them.
Belief tells me that I have all the pieces sitting in front of me, collected meticulously over years of nightmarish visions.
Logic tells me that sometimes things that are erroneous can later be beneficial, if only we know how to apply them.
I have to be careful.
I have to be alert and sharp.
In my mind, I have this sense of looking at an evidence board, plagued by truth and delusion in equal measure. I must use my wits to separate one from the other. Know thyself. Know that some of these things are not true… but that even a broken clock is right twice a day.
How can I know the difference between reality and illusion?
How can I save myself from the dark machinations of a world that wields multitudes more power than I do?
And, what does all this have to do with your story?
We’re going to get there.
Act I
I’ve been thinking of catalysts all day long, and presently I’m sitting on the couch writing notes for the most important article of my life by hand, when one of my roommates walks in, having a whole goddamn catalyst of her own.
“Guess what they said now,” she says.
I look up from my notebook. “Something shitty, I assume.”
“It’s company policy to provide proof of illness when you call out sick.”
“Would a witness statement saying I heard you puking all night work?”
“I already reached out to my old boss. She said she’ll keep an eye out for my application. She loved me when I worked there before.”
“Of course she loved you.”
“I just can’t take this stress anymore. I shouldn’t be worried I’m going to lose my job because I got sick for a couple days.”
“Welcome to the United States of Uncontrolled Capitalism.”
“I’m so worried right now.” She goes into the kitchen and starts the electric kettle.
“This might be a good thing,” I call after her.
“What?”
“You’re miserable. You always talk about how your old job was better. Maybe the universe is giving you a push.”
She comes back into the doorway and shrugs. “I don’t know.”
My eyes flick to her, but I don’t say anything.
Change is hard.
I write a note to myself at the top of the page that sometimes we don’t want to do something new even if our life will be better.
I stare at my little note in my shitty handwriting for a while. This bothers me. The sky is falling. I need to ask people to change and they’re… going to resist, at best. I stare at the ceiling and wonder how I can be enough.
I have a lot of weaknesses.
Some of those things are pure weakness. Others are a weakness at some points, and a strength at others.
Later in that same afternoon, I’m still sitting on the couch, alone in the living room, when my mind is seized by one such aspect that is both - it’s my vivid, unrestrained imagination.
Since I was nine years old, I’ve wanted to be a writer. A novelist.
Right now, I have eight novels planned in varying degrees of detail. It’s the last book in the series that marches into my brain at this particular moment.
In this book, there are strong themes of what it means to “be a man.”
Other themes include humanity, loss, and rebuilding.
The third act parades through my skull like a four-octave, cocaine-powered anthem.
I begin to cry.
I text my roommate: “If you said, ‘Hey Google, what’s the dorkiest thing that has ever happened?’ …it would give you a Wikipedia page that’s just a picture of me sitting on the couch, crying into my bean dip over quite literally nothing.”
“Thanks for that,” she says. “I needed a laugh.”
But now I’m thinking about integrity.
I’m thinking about the sense each of us has of who we’re supposed to be.
And, I’m thinking about belief… in this case, the belief that things are lining up the way they’re meant to at this exact time.
Several days later, I’m still working on this same article, paralyzed by the specter of failure.
I’ve never written something so important in my life and I need to get it right.
But.
For the moment.
It’s time for our Sunday night Zen meeting.
The three most usual suspects show up. I have literally nothing planned, so I ask if it would be alright if I read to them from this little “Zen in the Martial Arts” book I picked up probably 15 years ago, pre-stained in a second-hand store in Tucson.
The pages are cheap and must give off some sort of paper dust, because when I open it, I start coughing.
After I take a drink and regain my composure, I ask if any of them is struggling with anything in particular right now.
One of the guests offers up that he’s lacking in motivation.
I read off the titles of a couple chapters I think might help. He selects one called, “Process, Not Product.”
This chapter is about how giving ourselves an arbitrary deadline can fuck up the process of just doing the work one step after the other.
When I’m done reading, I ask the class how they felt about it. They say it’s good and I ruminate on the fact that this is probably the advice I need when it comes to my article. I need to stop worrying about the time that has passed and focus on simply carrying out each step in turn.
The chapters are short and I read out some more titles to let them pick another. The next one is called, “Effortless Effort.”
It’s about how caring too much complicates our efficacy.
Again, I ponder the lesson. I consider how giving too many fucks has gotten in the way of just writing the damn thing.
Finally, I read the chapter immediately after the one we just went over because the title catches my eye. It’s called, “Make a Friend of Fear.”
This one is about how we often spawn our own fears and relates a story of a hapkido instructor who fights a tiger over and over in his mind.
The image of a man fighting an imaginary tiger sparks a lengthy conversation about dangerous animals and how we would escape them. For some reason, velociraptors are part of our mental rehearsals.
After the call ends, I sit in silence and think about why we do such things. It makes absolute sense: our minds are anticipating potential hazards and putting us through preparation drills.
There is a part later in this course where we’ll talk about this exact thing in greater detail.
For the moment, with nothing but the sound of a small fridge keeping my drinks cold in the corner and the occasional creaking of an 80-year-old wood door, I consider the way my mind is repeatedly grinding through a solution for the other problem… a different type of perilous animal.
I have eight pages of notes for this damn thing.
My mind twists through each beat, winding from one point onto the next and back again.
I try to not let my eyes dart to the marching clock at the bottom of my screen.
One foot in front of the other, Lilly.
The thing is, the thing that’s clawing at the back of my mind like an animal trapped in a coffin is… we’re all in danger. We’re headed for a very real fascist, dystopian hellscape none of us has ever lived through.
We need to grab hold of each other and brace for impact.
We’re going to need the most that we can get from each other… and from ourselves.
The people at the top levels of our society are in the very midst of not only failing us, but actively destroying us. We can no longer rely on the people above us to keep shit in order. The ceiling is about to fall on our heads, and we need as many hands holding it up at the ground level as we can possibly get.
I’m past giving a shit whose fault it is.
I’m past complaining.
It’s time to grit our teeth, gather up as many homo sapiens as we can, and brace for impact.
That’s what this is about.
…but, Jesus Christ, it is a tall order.
The shipwreck that’s about to happen is going to throw us all into freezing water, vulnerable to sharks and hypothermia… but I was already vulnerable. I’m like the canary in a birdcage. I’ll be the first to perish.
I need you.
I need any of you who are reading or listening to this.
I need to know that you’re there because I will be the first to drown. And, though I might be the first, I won’t be the only one reading this who is going to be hit too hard by what’s coming.
The only way for us to get through it is to start building lifeboats and pulling each other in.
We all have our own specific part to play, and play it we must. The only other option is unfathomable hardship… a hardship we will not all see the other side of.
There have been a lot of comparisons made to what’s happening now, and how Hitler seized power before and crushed the life out of millions of people… Jews and otherwise.
There is use in noting the similarities. There is also use in noting the differences.
There is most use of all in generating additional differences.
We can see the past, and we know the imminent future is going to be bad. It’s time to jump into the muck and start kicking up as many differences in that situation versus our own as we possibly can.
This is one such difference.
Act II
Earlier today, I was making a smoothie and struggling to get my container of powdered peanut butter open.
I threatened to murder the peanut butter and its entire family if it didn’t open. Peanuts, apparently, do not care for their own safety, nor their fellow legumes, as it still didn’t budge.
I stared at the kitchen faucet and realized I was going to have to do the hot water trick.
Throughout my life, I’ve discovered that some men don’t know about the hot water trick. Not so in the female population. We all know the hot water trick.
When you can’t get a jar open, you run the lid under hot water for a couple minutes. The heat causes the lid to expand and viola, it separates from the jar with ease.
I stare out the window and think about all the men I’m failing by taking 10,000 years to write this goddamn article while the peanut butter sits under the running water.
When it’s had enough time to swell, I try again and the lid comes off like a knife slicing through warm butter.
Outside the window, a lovely couple - a man and a woman - walks their two dogs past my house.
You and I need to talk about one of the elephants in the room.
Who the fuck am I, some random person on the Internet, to lead this community? Not only some random person, but a woman for fuck’s sake, out here like I’m going to lead a whole goddamn group of patriarchal men.
To that end, I’ve been thinking about the yin yang symbol a lot lately.
I’ve been thinking about those little spots of negative color present in the other one’s side.
That’s what I am. I’m the spot of yin in a sea of yang.
Women are accustomed to navigating a world that was not built for them. Our lives are made up of a series of little fixes to that astounding problem.
We know to run hot water over a stubborn lid.
We’re hyper-sensitive to the slightest shifts in our environment.
We’ve never been able to fix a problem by hitting it.
When brute force marches through our cities and puts a gun in your face, you may benefit from those little moments of indirect cleverness.
My dream for this place is that, in a year or so, we will have a Wholesome Matriarchy to pair with our Wholesome Patriarchy. And my dream is for that space to be led by a man.
Yin and yang.
We are going to need each other.
We are going to need the fact that the opposite side has skills, experiences, and insights that we do not.
Now is the moment to bring out the most in each other.
We need masculine leadership… and we also need feminine leadership. Not just women who are doing a man’s role, but human beings who are leading in specifically feminine ways.
Leadership is about support.
Your fellow men can support you in ways that I cannot… and I can support you in ways that they cannot.
You need both energies supporting you.
You need the hard, calculating guidance that is stereotypical of men… and you need the soft, nurturing guidance that is stereotypical of women.
That is what I offer you. Among other things, which we’ll get to.
I offer you balance.
I offer you my yin to your yang.
I can provide a nurturing path to bring out the potential that is already inside of you. I can bring you gentleness. I can bring you nourishment. That’s distinctly feminine energy at work.
…but it’s not all femininity inside this skull.
It makes sense that when sperm hits egg and genetic material from one starts splashing into the other, that our fathers would have passed on some of the genes they needed to survive to their daughters.
We’ve got a mix of both genetics.
I come from an uncharacteristically analytical family… on my dad’s side. And his dad’s side. We’re made up of engineers and mathematics majors. We have that awkward, shrewd presence of people who are doing too many thoughts at once.
We’re people whose minds curl in and out of dozens of potentialities before words come from our mouths.
We’re a generally quiet family filled with contemplative stares and jolting computations rather than free, bubbling, extroverted flow.
Both my male and female cousins have these attributes.
I’ve had a tendency my entire life to gravitate towards materials that are aimed at men.
Flowery poetics and inspiring placards insisting that I simply love myself have literally no impact on me whatsoever.
I’m not going to tell you to accept yourself. I’m not going to tell you to believe in yourself. I’m not going to sit back and languidly declare that, surely, there is a leader hiding within you somewhere, ready to come out once you climb a mountain or fight a bear.
I’m going to break it down into its component parts and show you the gears and connections in each one.
I’m going to take the whole rig apart and show you how to put it together again.
Better this time.
I’ve often said that I’m a slow thinker, and I stand by this.
Perhaps it’s not so much that the thoughts are slow, but that there are too many thoughts between point A and point B.
It would be fine to have more thoughts than the average person - in fact, it would be better - if those thoughts happened faster than normal.
But they do not.
Imagine one person counting like this: 1… 2… 3.
Then, imagine a second person counting like this: 1… 1 and a quarter… 1 and a half…
If they’re counting at the same pace, it’s going to take the second person longer to get to 2 than the first person.
I’m the second person.
It is good, in certain ways, to take in the thousands of pieces of another human in any encounter… and yet, there’s a reason why neurotypical people don’t do this.
It takes time.
I remember vividly an encounter I had with an alarmingly charismatic man.
It made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
When he was talking, the man never broke eye contact, not for a second. When I was talking, his gaze cast around the room, bouncing from one object to another.
I had a lot of thoughts between point A and point B during our meeting.
He makes too much eye contact. He fears nothing in this interaction. Is he trustworthy? Are his actions restrained by conscience… or by law? If they’re guided by conscience, what informs that conscience? Does he see me as moral? Will he cross me off the list of people to do right by if he doesn’t? If he’s restrained by law, what happens if he finds a loophole? What would this situation be like if there weren’t glass walls? Would he hurt me if given the chance?
I have long struggled to thrive in the neurotypical world.
I wasn’t born with the natural knack for understanding other people at a glance. I’ve always had to manually string together thousands of moving parts… little quirks and nuances, shifts and gazes, inflections and the very slight movement of eyebrows… and then analyze the inputs and outputs of that system of valves that you would call someone’s personality.
It takes longer to understand people this way.
It’s an early disadvantage.
But, later on, it’s an understanding I would classify as ‘comprehensive.’
The charismatic man had a large cadre of rabid followers, people who eagerly and happily carried out his every word.
His mother would later ask me if he was a sociopath.
Some of you may already be familiar with the story of the Gros Michel banana.
If you’re not, the Gros Michel was the dominant banana variety from the 1800s until the 1950s. It’s the flavor of banana you taste in a package of Runts. For over a hundred years, when you ate a banana, you ate a Gros Michel.
Then, the wilt came.
Fusarium oxysporum is a fungus that ate through the Gros Michel crops with ravenous brutality.
The domesticated clones had no defense against the infection. They weren’t bred sexually by mixing the DNA of one plant into another the way that evolution prefers. Instead, they were cloned, duplicated again and again - the same banana planted in millions of little soil mounds around the world.
There was no diversity, no subtle changes from one banana to the next, no protection against the onslaught that was coming.
Today, the Gros Michel is commercially extinct, an especially flavorful treat most of us will never know. It’s been replaced by a different banana, one that did have resistance to fusarium oxysporum.
I think about this often.
Without diversity, the wrong threat can wipe us all out.
There is a reason why the most complex organisms on Earth do not clone. They mate. They mix up DNA so that they continue to get different results every time.
This is survival.
We don’t need one type of person. We don’t need one gender or the other. We don’t need neurotypical people or neurodivergent people. We don’t need analytical thinkers or emotional thinkers. We don’t need city dwellers or rural folk. We don’t need the chaotic or the consistent. We don’t need the creative or the orderly.
We need both.
Across the many ways you can divide us up, split us down the middle, pit us against one another… this one truth remains the same: we need both.
We need both.
Yin and yang.
Without this mixing of qualities at every level of our lives - both inside the home and out in the world, we will perish, just like the Gros Michel banana.
This is the part where you come in.
You and I are not the same - and that is critical.
Act III
I’ve said it before and I’ll probably say it many more times, but my motivations in this community are selfish.
I’m a straight woman.
I want to have relationships with men.
I want intimacy with them. I want their affection. I want their care. I want their attention. I want their conversation. I want their presence.
I’m in love with men.
But, men are suffering right now.
They’re not in a good head space, for a lot of reasons. When people aren’t in a good head space, they aren’t their best selves.
By contrast, when people are healthy, secure, cared for, supported, and respected, they’re far more likely to extend those same generosities to the people around them… and I want to be one of the people around men.
If I can find a way to bring them… to bring you… to that place, I benefit also. I benefit from your company.
I benefit from your mental health.
I want to live in that world, the world where you’re doing better… and, to that end, I have something to offer that other people don’t.
I certainly shouldn’t be your only source for mental health. I’m like the fish oil supplement to pair with your vitamins. One doesn’t replace the other. They’re different types of nutrients.
But.
My motives are selfish in another way, also.
We’re living in precarious times.
Things are going to get worse.
We’re going to need each other.
We can’t trust our leaders at the top levels of society anymore. We need leaders on the ground level - and we need a lot of them.
We all need to be leaders.
We all have our own special way in which we’re meant to lead… and our own personal ways in which we need leadership.
We can’t go the way of the Gros Michel.
We need to be different from each other. We need to respect and value that genetic variety.
We need to recognize the ways in which we can uniquely support each other… and the ways in which we, ourselves, need support.
Some of that leadership needs to be masculine.
Some of that leadership needs to be feminine.
Some of that leadership needs to be organized.
Some of that leadership needs to be creative.
Some of that leadership needs to be consistent.
Some of that leadership needs to be chaotic.
Some of that leadership needs to be neurotypical.
Some of that leadership needs to be neurodivergent.
And on and on.
I believe that every single one of you has the potential for leadership in some unique way. Perhaps it’s not developed yet. Perhaps you still need to gather yourself up. Perhaps you still need to get on your own two feet. Perhaps there are certain things you still need to learn.
Perhaps you need a little help in seeing the potential ways for leadership within yourself.
But, it’s time to step up.
Here’s how this course and the ones that follow are going to help you do that…
First, we’re going to build you up.
Before you can lead, you need to be solid. You need to be supported. You need to develop respect and dignity within yourself. You need to have empathy for whatever it is you’re going through.
I’m going to first help you clear your head - rip out all the water-damaged walls that are weakening your foundation. We need to take a sledgehammer to all the junk that’s dragging you down, holding you back, and fucking with your mind.
Then, we start doing repairs.
We put in new walls, doorways, and windows. We add fresh paint. We put up decorations and bring in furniture that speaks to you.
We build ourselves the perfect home within our own selves.
One of the ways we’re going to do that is by diving into eight highly detailed frameworks for better understanding, accepting, respecting, and directing ourselves.
Each of these frameworks is meant to target a different personality and processing type.
Some will speak to you more than others.
While you will find yourself naturally gravitating more towards some of those frameworks than others, I hope that you’ll give all of them your attention, because they’re all extra tools you’ll have available to you for use in different situations.
We’ll then move onto a number of other, more traditional frameworks that have proven themselves effective for many types of people throughout history.
All of these strategies will help cultivate the version of yourself you most want to be.
That’s the first course.
The second course is all about leadership.
It’s about understanding people better. It’s about how to get the most out of people who are similar to yourself… and people who are different from yourself.
We’ll revisit many of the same frameworks from the first course, but we’re going to come at it from a different angle. While the first course builds you up, the second course helps you understand the many variations and full spectrum of strengths and needs in others.
You’re going to need both.
Whatever skills we build for you in your own life, you’re still going to need to fill in the gaps.
The second course is not only going to show you how to lead, it’s going to show you how to bring out the leader that you need in others.
We’re going to start with the men.
We’re going to build up the men in this community to lead in the way that they have the best potential for as individual human beings.
I’m not going to tell you that you need to follow your specific gender roles. You will, naturally, in certain ways, and in other ways, you’ll defy those gender roles.
What I’m going to do is bring out the most in each of you, no matter who you are.
Then, we’re going to bring in the women.
I really believe that we need both masculine and feminine leadership. The more genetic diversity we can bring into our leadership, the more threats we can prepare for. Each of us can protect and support each other in different ways.
Right now, we need to give ourselves the best shot we have at surviving the weight that’s going to push down on us from above.
We do that by bringing out the most from ourselves, and the most from everyone around us.
To that end, I’d like to share with you one more little trick I have up my sleeve.
In 2014, my brother-in-law made a suggestion to me that changed my life.
At the time, I was working as a freelance writer, ghostwriting stories that paying clients wanted their name on but didn’t know how to write, themselves.
It was shit pay, but it was my strong suit.
My brother-in-law suggested I pivot those writing skills into marketing.
He was at the time working as a graphic designer in the marketing department of a financial firm. The CEO of the company wanted to slap his name on his own book to boost his authority in the industry, but finances were his strong suit, not writing.
It became a case of “who you know, not what you know.”
My brother-in-law arranged the interview, and I showed up with my writing portfolio.
I was hired on the spot for the book-writing gig, and after that brought on as a copywriter (a marketing writer) for the same company. They gave me my first crash course on the world of selling shit and persuading people to do what we wanted them to do.
I became obsessed.
In addition to my schizophrenia diagnosis, I’ve also been diagnosed with autism. It wasn’t a surprising diagnosis on a lot of levels. A plethora of signs have always been there.
One of those signs is hyper-fixation.
I had to know every detail of how human beings decide what they’re going to do.
I made charts of it. Wrote out codes in the form of JavaScript functions, which I’d learned at a different phase of my life. I put all the wisdom and teachings I was reading into a format that made the most sense for how I understand the world.
I was taught many things.
One of those things I was taught I’ve been putting into use for the last six months now - the principle of reciprocity.
I give a damn about you, and, just like my textbooks predicted, you reciprocated and gave a damn about me.
Not all marketing strategies are malicious… especially if you wield them in a way that is authentically targeted at bringing the other person to their best life.
Both my own therapist, and the mental health professionals in this community have related something to me over and over again: that change is hard work and I can show other people the door, but I can’t make them walk through it.
But, here’s the thing.
I’m not a therapist.
I’m a marketer.
And, in my training as a marketer, there’s something else I’ve had hammered into my skull over and over again…
Make it easy.
Make it attractive.
Sprinkle as many psychological rewards as you can all along the way so that people can see the benefits immediately.
I maintain - vehemently - that I am no replacement for a therapist.
I’m a different kind of nutrient for your psyche. Fish oil is good for you, but no amount of it can replace your need for vitamins.
You need both.
But.
A marketer can attack the struggles in your mind in a way that a therapist hasn’t been trained to do. We’re on two different tracks. We have different strategies.
My objective is to give you the support you need to be the man you want to be.
My method is varied.
It is at different times: feminine, analytical, chaotic, divergent, creative, systematic, persuasive, anxious, computational, imaginative, humble, egotistical, Buddhist, scientific, researched, intuitive, nurturing, rewarding, and easy.
That’s the leadership I’m offering you.
Now, it’s your turn.
I need leadership.
I need leadership both for myself, personally, and I also need more leaders in this community, supporting each other.
I need people who can lead in ways that I cannot.
Here’s your homework…
I’ve created a post on Reddit that I want you to comment on.
I want you to comment, notating:
The ways that you can lead.
The ways you have the potential to lead.
The ways in which you need leadership from others, including myself.
If you want extra credit, you can also respond to other people’s comments, noting the ways their leadership can fill in your gaps, and the ways that you can fill in theirs.
Maybe you’re not ready to lead, yet, but you have potential.
If you can’t think of anything, comment saying so, and see if the other members of the community can help you brainstorm your strengths and the steps you can take to develop your potential and make it better.
I will also be there, doing all these same things.
If you have your leadership journal already, also write these things there. If you don’t have a leadership notebook, yet, consider getting one.
One of the leaders in our community has stepped up to donate funds to help another member of the community get his leadership journal.
I’ll also be posting a page that tracks how many leadership notebooks have been donated, how many are available, and how many are needed.
If you are in a position to donate funds to someone else’s leadership notebook, and you’re willing to do that, reach out to me and let me know.
If you’re in a situation where you cannot afford a leadership notebook, also reach out to me, and I will begin making arrangements to get you one.
These leadership journals will help you psychologically commit to improving your life right here right now.
They also help support me in creating these courses.
The links are below.
I hope to see you all in the comments.
Love you guys,
Lilly ❣️
Homework
Comment on the original post so as many people can see it as possible. Perhaps you can even let me know what you thought of it.
If you’d like to listen to this lesson, rather than read it, here’s the link!
There are many mistakes and errors in it. I chose to leave them partly because it’s so goddamn long, and partly because it’s real.
It’s a conversation from me to you.
I hope you enjoy.
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