What is the most challenging piece around creating a heart-based small business, being a woman entrepreneur in the mindfulness industry, creating new content daily to offer folks, and maintaining my bank account without a 9-5 job and regular income? I bet there are a bunch of things you’d imagine are the most challenging, but you might be surprised to hear which one I struggle with most. It’s feeling competition with other teachers and a crushing sense of scarcity of audience, opportunities and traffic.
How do I know that this is the most challenging piece? Because it’s the one I understand least and the one that paralyzes me still, even when a bunch of the other pieces are manageable and I have skills to deal with them. I’ve explored my fear of authority figures and worked out this is why I’m better off working for myself; I’ve gotten perspective on the lack of fit between me and externally-imposed structures and schedules, leading me to work my own schedule mostly from home; and I know now that when I don’t take the risks involved in working on my own dreams, someone else will pay me to work on theirs which in the long run neglects my soul’s creativity. I can talk about these aspects of my career and vocation in a resolved way, however competition and scarcity are like dark alleys in my being I rarely venture into alone.
Feeling competition instills fear in me. I had the honor of traveling with an awesome little dog, who I named Tara, for about 11 years of her life. She had the unfortunate instinct to kill my chickens, so I had to go through the painful process of disciplining her to not kill my chickens, which involved instilling in her a sense of fear around the chickens. And so she learned to slink along the periphery fenceline of our property to be with me when the chickens were present, rather than bounding up to me as she would when my feathered friends were not present. I had taught her to be afraid of the chickens. Similarly, somewhere in my psyche I have taught myself to be afraid of competition: I notice it arise in me out of a “fear of missing out” (affectionately acronymed FOMO), and I slink along the periphery fenceline hoping to get to my sense of self worth again. Competition feels dangerous to me because if I compete and fail it might just confirm my fears – that I am not worthy.
So, time to unpack all of this. My journey begins.
What is a sense of scarcity?
I start with a definition. In her book, Daring Greatly: How the Courage to Be Vulnerable Transforms the Way We Live, Love, Parent, and Lead, Brené Brown talks about scarcity as being the opposite of having enough. It’s not the opposite of abundance as we might think; it’s about not having your basic human needs met. There are universal needs any human being has, including financial security, acceptance, physical health, community, and love. Brené tells us that scarcity says things like, “I am never good enough; perfect enough; thin enough; powerful enough; successful enough; smart enough; certain enough; safe enough; extraordinary enough.” You get the gist. The varieties of scarcity I work with in my vocation are about not being good enough, motivated enough, polite enough, real enough, special enough, educated enough, restrained enough, conforming enough, fixed enough and the resultant fear of being rejected from the community for not being enough. Phew! Exhausted? I am.
What creates a sense of scarcity?
Sense of scarcity comes from actually not having enough at some point in our life. I know a very wealthy woman who feels that it’s a win when she collects soap and shampoo bottles from hotel rooms to use at home. Her sense of not having enough stems from a childhood lived in poverty where she truly did not have enough. Even though her present circumstances belie this understanding about herself, her survival instincts are strong and she is still collecting resources and exploiting opportunities. Another woman I know eats as much free food as possible at social gatherings, collecting as much as she can to take home with her when she has the opportunity. She has money to buy plenty of food, but she often went hungry for love and attention when she was a child and when “food = love” (truly, as a child we needed to get the adults around us to love us so that they’d feed us) she knows she can help herself survive by collecting extra. Sense of scarcity is:
- a somatic remembering of pain from our past,
- our system creating novel ways to avoid experiencing that again, and
- our instincts bringing those survival tactics in to our experience today to ensure we make it through this day, week, month, year, lifetime.
How does a sense of scarcity affect our brain?
In their book, Scarcity: The New Science of Having Less and How It Defines our Lives, Eldar Shafir and Sendhil Mullainathan explore how people’s minds are affected by the sense of scarcity. Their research focussed mostly on people who navigate scarcity of resources to maintain life – simple financial scarcity. But their findings are as relevant to the feelings of scarcity any of us can feel including the scarcity of time and love. What stands out to me from their research is that we make poorer decisions when we feel a sense of scarcity. Our measurable IQ actually drops when we feel the pressure of scarcity. When we feel we don’t have enough time, money or love, our brain doesn’t work so well because we are kicking into survival mode and we need to use our precious cognitive resources to keep us alive.
This would explain why my feelings of competition and scarcity are tricky ones to get a handle on. My brain isn’t in its happy place – my “tend and befriend” chemicals aren’t cascading through my being like some abundant source of warm fuzzies. What’s actually happening is that I’ve gone more into prioritizing “staying alive” and my creativity is turned off as I tend to the apparent threat in front of me – the threat of social, psychological and emotional death. The feeling is that I don’t have enough love, that I won’t be seen as being special enough, and that I will be kicked out of the tribe. A sense of scarcity leads to feeling as if I need to compete because if I don’t then I will be cast out. Scarcity leads to fear which leads to a feeling antithetical to self-compassion – competing for “love” from external sources – as a way to avoid the shame of not being worthy.
The survival response to scarcity and shame
So there are a number of things our frightened brain might motivate us to do when gripped by a sense of scarcity, but strategies borne from fear tend to be doomed. These strategies fit with Brené Brown’s list of things we do to try to manage shame:
- Moving toward the object of our shame and sense of scarcity by checking social media or our emails to see how popular we are, hoping that we’ll find validation. Seeing as we are not in control of content, this strategy can backfire when we get that inevitable troll (fortunately not too common in the mindfulness industry) or complaint email.
- Pushing against the object of our sense of scarcity by getting angry and telling members of our community that they’re not doing the right thing by us; they’re not validating us enough. Anger can be a powerful indicator of boundaries, so it’s valuable to explore it, but we also need to get real about what a community or individuals in our community can do for us. Seeking a sense of worthiness externally is doomed because we’re relying on highly subjective accounts from flawed human beings who can never know us as well as we can know ourselves.
- Running away from the object of our sense of scarcity through any of our favorite crash strategies – food, fiction, re-runs of our favorite reality TV show, alcohol, sleep, or just good old mental avoidance. Running away can be a neat way to take care of ourselves in the short term for specific stresses in our lives, but it’s not a good long-term strategy.
The emotional resiliency response (aka The Holy Grail) to scarcity
So, is the anticipation killing you? What do we do to address scarcity? How do we tend to that part of us who feels that we are not enough, that we do not have enough, that we cannot offer enough? Here are some strategies that help me:
- Hang with my soul peeps, the folks in my tribe who I know love me for who I am. These are members in my community to whom I don’t need to ask, “Am I good enough?” I just know. Seek these folks out and have a coffee or a chin wag over the phone.
- Hire a mentor or coach, attend training, read books to help me with anything that will fill gaps in my expertise so that I can feel more confident and realistic about what I know and what I can offer. Sure, this can be a trap when we can’t stop gaining credentials to try to feel good about ourselves (ie the PhD that didn’t actually suddenly cure our sense of scarcity overnight), but when we gather a support tribe to help us build up our knowledge and experience base, we can get a better sense of ourselves as having the expertise we need to have to offer our work to the world. We don’t need to ask, “Am I enough?” so much because professional peeps will be telling us that we are enough and they’ll be supporting us to move our enoughness out into the world for good.
- If there truly is a mismatch between my personal mission and the mission of a community I’m in and I’m constantly feeling angry over not having my needs met, maybe I need to take a good hard look at the situation and make an informed decision to stay and change my approach or to leave and seek another place to have my needs met. I never said this was an easy journey – being authentic involves some loss and grief, sweethearts.
- Touch in with that younger part of me who desperately wants to find validation, and bring in my fierce compassion for her to fend off the suggested actions of the “manager” part that wants to do something to avoid her feeling bad like checking my emails or my social media. Call on my wise inner council to remind me that the content of social media and emails are utterly uncontrollable and checking those to help comfort my inner child are akin to sending her around to my neighbors to poll them to see if they like her. I should never do that to her, and I can make a self-compassionate choice to love her as she is rather than to push her out into the street hoping for validation.
- Learn about the psychology behind things like shame, scarcity, need for belonging, courage, authenticity, self-reliance. I could be a walking advertisement for Brené Brown here, but the reality is, she offers a neat package of this material in her many books. I name her as one of my main teachers.
- Learn about and practice self-compassion. Chris Germer and Kristin Neffare my main teachers in this area.
- And if all else fails, just be audacious. Why shouldn’t I (or you) be the next entrepreneur to come up with the next great thing? Why shouldn’t we get to live our dream and get paid for it? Why don’t we get to totally throw ourselves out there in our glorious, creative, paint-splattering messiness to see if anyone shows up with us? Who are we to not exploit social media, online platforms, a hunger for happiness in our culture and our spirit of adventure? What does the world miss out on when we don’t share the fruits of our lifetime’s journey and all that we have learned? There has never been a better time in history or in your life to be audacious.
I’m sure there are other strategies and practices, so if you have any doozies, please email me and let me know. I love finding out about new resources and tools to pop into my kit.
Mostly, I want you to know that if you suffer from a sense of scarcity and you feel as if you shouldn’t, you are not alone. Any time we delegate a feeling to the basement, it starts to grow another head and sprout hair in strange places. And it gets bigger and louder. If you feel that you do not have enough, that you are not offering enough, that you are not enough, test out some of the strategies above and/or send me an email. I’ll help you reach a hand down to your loud, hairy, two-headed one, bring them into the light and we’ll do a make-over for them. You, and they, should never feel alone … because you truly are not alone.