When I run my Mastermind Groups, I have five printed tent cards on the conference room table–words or phrases I want participants to avoid saying. The words are in large black type, and I have the international NO sign overlaying them. The words are little, just, try, should and can’t afford.

I bristle when I hear these words because they are minimizers and/or excuses to hide behind. “I want to put my work in a little gallery.” Really? What’s little about it? Will it require less effort on your part to create the pieces, market the show to the public? Why say “little” when referring to this opportunity?

“I’m going to try to make it to your event next week.” Thanks for letting me know. I’ll cross you off the list right now. As Yoda proclaimed, “There is no try.” Rephrase this to, “My intention is to attend your event,” and notice how much more often you show up when you language it that way.

You get the picture.

Today I got called on using the words ‘can’t afford’ myself, and I want to distinguish what I meant in the context I used it to clear up any confusion. When I hear “I can’t afford to ____________(take the course, hire an assistant, update my website, fill in the blank),” what I really hear is, “I’m choosing to use my resources in a different way.” If you track your expenditures diligently, you may realize that your Starbucks purchases add up to an equivalent chunk of change to these bigger desires. You’re just choosing to allocate differently. Should a great deal on the ___________ (car, shoes, fill in the blank-of-your-dreams) come along, you’d pony up very quickly. So watch your language. It can be a cover-up for the harder truth underneath. You have the money, but you’re making other choices in how to use it.

On my recent Soul Proprietor Coaching Program call I talked about a writing consultant I was interest in retaining in the late ’90’s. Many of my speaking colleagues had used this person’s services with greater or lesser outcomes. I met with him (identities have been preserved here), got really excited about the prospect of collaborating on a book and went so far as to get an estimate for services to be rendered. The figure was around $10,000 which I did not have in the bank.

My monthly costs were fixed, and there was not the prospect of an additional $1000 per month to add during the designated time frame. I really wanted to work with this guy because when we’d met for a sample session, he flattered me so much and led me to believe that my writing, with his guidance, might save the world. Who wouldn’t want to take out a loan?!

I consulted my financial advisor. She asked some probing questions, then left the decision to me. I opted out only after I’d spent my first $1000 which yielded a few pages of text. I passed those around to two trusted colleagues for feedback. Both said, “This doesn’t sound like you, Jane.” “It sounds like a textbook, not a person, not your voice.” I licked my $1000 wound, ended the agreement, and went merrily on my way for the next couple of years.

I had been in a writers group and began producing Lessons I’d learned along the way of my first career as an artist. They were getting high marks among my fellow writers, and one of the women in our group had a business of helping authors create book proposals. By that time I had developed an escrow account and could easily pay her deposit upfront. My book, Soul Proprietor, was the happy outcome of that collaboration.

What you have in your business checking and savings accounts is a good indicator of how you might allocate your resources. I did not have that war chest in the late ’90’s when the first opportunity appeared. I did in the early 2000’s when a new opportunity came along.

Often we never find out what becomes of the flatterers in our lives. I accidentally found out that a fellow colleague had sued this practitioner for false promises and now see that he is currently building a business in an unrelated industry.

Watch your language, count your pennies, but don’t say you can’t afford it.