What's in the gallery?
We dissolve stuck and rewrite patterns. We apply radical playfulness to life (when we feel like it!), embarking on internal adventures (credo of Safety First). We have a fake band called Solved By Cake. We build invisible sanctuaries, invent words and worlds, breathe awe and wonder.
We are not impressed by monsters. Except when we are. We explore the connections between internal territories and surrounding environment to learn what marvelously supportive delicious space feels like, and how to take exquisite care of ourselves. We transform things.* We glow wild.**
* For example: Desire, fear, worry, pain-and-trauma, boundaries, that problematic word which rhymes with flaweductivity.
** Fair warning: Self-fluency has been known to lead to extremely subversive behavior, including treasuring yourself unconditionally, unapologetically taking up space, experiencing outrageously improbable levels of self-acceptance, and general rejoicing in aliveness.
What's in the gallery?
We dissolve stuck and rewrite patterns. We apply radical playfulness to life (when we feel like it!), embarking on internal adventures (credo of Safety First). We have a fake band called Solved By Cake. We build invisible sanctuaries, invent words and worlds, breathe awe and wonder.
We are not impressed by monsters. Except when we are. We explore the connections between internal territories and surrounding environment to learn what marvelously supportive delicious space feels like, and how to take exquisite care of ourselves. We transform things.* We glow wild.**
* For example: Desire, fear, worry, pain-and-trauma, boundaries, that problematic word which rhymes with flaweductivity.
** Fair warning: Self-fluency has been known to lead to extremely subversive behavior, including treasuring yourself unconditionally, unapologetically taking up space, experiencing outrageously improbable levels of self-acceptance, and general rejoicing in aliveness.
“Marketing” and other vomit-ey stuff
If that word makes you want to throw up, scream, or run away …
You’re in good company.
Also, I happen to think that I have some fairly useful things to say on the topic.
And if you’re actually cool with “marketing”, hang in there, because there might be something useful for you too.
A tiny bit of background?
Yesterday afternoon I was sitting at the Lucky Lab Public House with my brother and my gentleman friend.
It was my second time there. The first time being three years and one month ago. And wow. The place was exactly as I remembered it — but everything in my head was different.
Back then my brother, Selma and I didn’t have money to spare for things like … oh, food. We were couchsurfing. We were living off of bread and cheese from the supermarket.
This time I had a fantastic tomato soup. And a slice of veggie pizza. And just twenty minutes previously, I’d acquired a MacBook Air. (hooray)
Three years ago I firmly believed that marketing in all forms was evil, manipulative and gross. And at the same time, I had a business. With which I wanted to help people. So, you know, it was kind of a problem.
A most unfortunate word.
Most of us who come to business by way of wanting to save the world or do our art or bring joy to others through being all creatively self-expressive and stuff … we don’t have degrees in business.
We are what Molly Gordon calls Accidental Entrepreneurs.
Which means that our instinctive association with anything “marketing” tends to be more like this article — World’s Worst Person Decides To Go Into Marketing:
“I think it’s the career path that will best utilize my networking skills and my ability to think outside the box,” said Deenan, whose smug, gloating tone and shit-eating smile just make you want to punch his goddamn teeth in. “So I’m definitely thinking marketing. Either that, or PR.”
That still cracks me up … every single time.
An even more unfortunate paradox.
The other night at a dinner thing-ey I met a woman — super-talented artist — who literally backed away with an expression of horror when someone said the dreadful m-word.
The very thing that would help her tell me (someone who likes art and happily supports artists) more about why her stuff is unique and amazing is the thing that is most uncomfortable and unattractive to her.
Or take my starving drag king performance artist girls in Berlin. If they knew I was writing a post about “marketing” (ohmygod I’m doing it right now) they’d probably disown me.
My Berlin friends also spend an awful lot of time figuring out what to say on the hand-drawn flyers announcing their upcoming “soli” event (I think that’s called a Rent Party).
What to say. How to say it. What it should look like. Uh huh. Last I heard, there was a word for that.
So what’s a conscientious non-sleazebag business owner to do?
For one thing, don’t call it marketing!
Seriously. If it grosses you out, change the word.
Personally, I use biggification. Yes, I made it up. And it encompasses the “growing the cool thing I do so I can help people” vibe but kind of takes the piss out of it.
I didn’t invent the art of mindfully biggifying to be cute or anything. It was more that I wasn’t able to say the word “marketing” to the point that when I hired my first business coach, I had to ask him never to say it in our conversations.
He said ” … Uh, what do you want me to call it?”
And I said, “Well, I’m fond of the word ‘biggification’.”
And he said, “Alright then, let’s start biggifying!”
Don’t just change the word. Change the meaning.
This is called reframing in the coaching world, and it works amazingly well.
For example, my definition of “marketing” (what I call biggification) is this:
The art, science and process of helping your Right People a. find you, and b. feel safe saying yes to the thing you have, know or do that will make their lives better.
That’s it.
It’s helping the people you need to help. It’s helping them find you. And it’s helping them feel safe saying yes to the help.
Without this part — the “marketing” part — all you’re doing is hiding in your room wanting to help people. Your Right People are wandering around looking for you and you’re making it hard for them to receive what you have to give.
This might not be your reframe. Yours might be something else. But if you reframe it well enough, you won’t even need to change the word.
For example, my friend and colleague Mark Silver has no problem with the m-word. The way he sees it, it’s a market like a shuk is a market. Like, you go out to the market with your big straw basket over your arm to buy vegetables and sell fruit. You’re going marketing.
For him, it’s fun and playful and creative. That’s because he’s managed to reframe the word so completely that it totally works for him.
Study up on it.
Still hate “marketing”? That’s fine. Hate away. Seriously. It’s normal, it’s natural, it’s forgivable and it’s reassuringly human. I’m glad that you’re not the guy in that Onion article. Ugh.
But don’t stop with just plain old hating. Dive in to this foreign, unappealing thing. Find out what’s happening there.
Know your enemy.
Because if you do, a. you’ll be more successful than everyone else and b. you’ll realize pretty quickly that hey, it’s not the enemy.
Actually, eventually you’ll also realize that there is no enemy and that’s when your head really starts to spin. But we’ll worry about that part some other time.*
*If your curiosity just got piqued, you can peek at this post where I bring up the concept that ‘everything that is against me is an illusion‘
Learn from people who model what they know.
The best person I know to study biggification from is Naomi over at Itty Biz. Even though she has zero problem calling it “marketing” and as soon as she reads this she’ll probably call to tell me just to have a stiff drink and get over it.
But it will be worth it because she makes me spit juice out of my nose.
If there’s still room to get in to her Marketing 101 course which starts this Wednesday (like, the 11th which is practically now), you should do it. Even though she will say that icky, horrible word and you may have to translate it.
Also, I happen to know — because this is how good she is at biggifying — if you sign up through my blog you also get to take another class (like, for free) called Networking For Wallflowers: How To Schmooze When You Suck At Schmoozing.
Which is just for students of her M——– 101 course and which I will be taking too because, as you know, I get all weird and uncomfortable about “networking” as much as I do with “marketing”.
And … maybe also practice trusting your heart a little more.
You know what? You’re a good person. I know you are. And I know that sounds kind of trite and insincere, but really, I meant it.
Really, I’m not just saying that because you read my blog. Though maybe I am. I mean, it does speak well of you.
My point is, you’re not a sleazebag. If you were, you’d be somewhere else.
And my own experience is that the better I get at remembering that I don’t have a slimy, manipulative bone in my body, the easier it all is.
Because when you remember that … it also gets easier to trust that the tools that some people use for evil (copywriting, anyone?) can also be used consciously and intentionally with a pure heart to help people find you. To help them say yes to the amazing thing that you do.
I know you’re using your powers for good. I love that you’re using your powers for good. Still, everyone needs a little help.
And that help happens to be (however unfortunately) called “marketing”. Unless you’re me, in which case it’s called mindful biggification.
That’s it.
I still have all sorts of things to say (surprise!) about stuff related to the non-icky forms of “marketing”, biggifying and putting yourself out there just enough to help your Right People when they need you the most.
But I’ll save it.
Announcement! Class. Tuesday. My treat.
So I still can’t type am typing even less than usual, because now in addition to the carpal tunnel adventure, I have horrendously painful bruised arm muscles from the myofascial release physical therapy torture — which, by the way, is fantastic.
Except that it hurts like a ___________________ after the fact.*
*Don’t bother counting the spaces there. I have no idea how long that imaginary word is because the delete button hurts most of all. That and italicizing things. Don’t make me italicize. In fact, if you see something in italics, assume that Marissa or my Gentleman Friend did it.
Anyway.
I can’t type — but I can talk!
Teleclass. This Tuesday. It’s on me.
Every few months my duck and I do a freebie teleclass thing (which for some reason don’t seem to get mentioned in the emails people send about how dare I charge money for my life’s work) where I teach something.
And we learn together. And it doesn’t cost anything.
I call these Habits Detective classes — and they’re usually pretty entertaining.
What you need to know …
- When: This Tuesday, February 10, 2009 at 5:30 p.m. PST
What time is that really? You can figure that out here. - Cost? We covered that — there isn’t one.
- What’s the class? We’ll be talking about how to establish new habits when you already know what you want to do but it’s just not happening yet. Obviously we’ll be doing this in a non-preachy, non-annoying way without too much hippie crap, though, you know, possibly a smidgen.
- Phone number: (218) 936-7999
Access Code: 974758# - Will there be a recording? Probably not. Since typing this is agonizing, I don’t think more work is something I need right now.
- Anything else I should know? There are already 67 people signed up so you’ll want to call in before the line fills up.
- Marissa (Havi’s helper) adds… You don’t have to sign up for this one. Some folks did, which is awesome! But you can absolutely join in the teleclass fun and excitement by just dialing in. No pre-sign-up necessary on this one! It’s the combination of teleclass awesomeness and a dash of impromptu join-us-ness with a splash of all-are-welcomeosity. 🙂
There might be more questions that need answering, but my arms are done for the day! Talk to you Tuesday.
xo
Havi & Selma
Friday Check-in #27: paradox-friendly edition
Because it’s Friday AGAIN. And because traditions are important. In which I cover the good stuff and the hard stuff in my week, trying for the non-preachy, non-annoying side of self-reflection.
And you get to join in if you feel like it.
In any given week there are always a few things that fall into both the “hard” and the “good” categories at the same time.
This week it’s pretty much all of them.
I can embrace a good paradox as well as the next tree-hugging yoga teacher, but this is getting to be kind of absurd.
Oh well. It’s Friday. Let’s go.
The hard stuff
Retreating.
So as you know from last week, I went on retreat. For four days.
It was mostly fabulous but oh boy, there was plenty of hard.
Four whole days without a computer!
Four days. No internet.
Sure, I know some people take breaks from being plugged in. But only because I like to read about this phenomenon online.
And in theory I approve. But in reality?
Seriously, if you don’t count the two weeks that I was deathly ill in Berlin, it’s been about … oh, ten years since I spent that much time offline.*
It was actually much, much easier than I’d built it up to be but just the expectation of withdrawal pains was totally challenging.
*Don’t mock my addiction, please. It’s painful *and* it finances my entire life. So my terror — however unnecessary — makes perfect sense (to me, at least).
Four whole days without my gentleman friend.
Nooooooooooooo! Never doing that again. You heard it here first.
In fact, I just bought him a plane ticket to come with me to SXSW. He couldn’t care less about the conference so he’s basically going to be hanging out in Austin for the better part of a week.
But he’s coming with.*
* I feel like I need to add a “by George!” or something to that sentence, but can’t think of anything that works.
Carpal tunnel.
Ow, painful.
Ow, frustrating.
I have a ridiculously high number of things I want to say. Not being able to write them down is extremely annoying.
The good stuff
Carpal tunnel.
You would not believe how much I’m outsourcing. Stuff I should have handed off to a VA at least two years ago.
Yes, it’s annoying but it’s streamlining my business!
I’m making big, crazy changes in old systems. Big, crazy smart changes. And it’s opening up a lot of creative time for me.
To the point that I’m feeling really appreciative. And not in some phony, irritating, holier-than-thou “I appreciate hardships because they’re life lessons” sort of way.
Because that would be kind of obnoxious.
Just genuinely liking the fact that this uncomfortable situation was a big enough incentive to get me to make some hugely important changes in my business.
Four days without my gentleman friend.
No, I’m so not going to say that absence makes the heart grow fonder. This heart already is fonder.
Plus that’s a stupid thing to say.
This wasn’t really a good thing. But my understanding of just how much it’s not a good thing was really useful.
Knowing that it’s worthwhile for me to drag him along on trips and conferences arrange for him to go on holiday with me every once in a while … that’s useful too.
Four days without my computer.
This was incredible.
And that’s speaking as someone who regularly exhibits dangerous addict behavior with the internet.
Not having any idea what was happening in my email inbox was astonishingly fine. It helped that I knew Marissa was on top of things.
And she’s so great that when I came back there were only about four things she needed my input on as opposed to hundreds which would have been the case a few months ago.
Not being on Twitter was bizarre and challenging but not as excruciating as I’d built it up to be.
The elation I’m feeling is exactly the same flavor as when I realized I was finally a non-smoker. Or when I’d gone my first month without sugar (nine years ago, almost exactly) and knew I wasn’t going back.
Retreeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaat! Retreat.
Being on retreat was amazing.
Spending serious hours studying with the remarkable Paul Grilley (who is wise and patient and wonderful) … mindblowingly great.
Doing hours of yoga everyday … exactly what I needed.
Hanging out with Pace and Kyeli and their son and their cats … a treat.
Can’t wait to retreat again. I’m hoping soon.
Ez lives here! And I’m still talking about it!
It’s been a month since my kid brother moved in. And I could not be happier about it.
Having him around is so perfect. If only for the spit takes.
Also, this week we invented a new style of kung fu inspired by Bob Hope. That’s how much fun we have.
That’s it for me …
And yes yes yes, of course you can join in my Friday ritual right here in the comments bit if you feel like it.
Yeah? Anything hard and/or good happen in your week?
And, as always, have a glorrrrrrrrrrrrious weekend. And a happy week to come.
A tiny but important business lesson
So I know I left us all hanging on Monday with a cliffhanger … and that a bunch of you at least six of you can’t wait to find out what happens next with the bizarre and awkward conversation between my fear, my stuck and myself.
And yet I must dangle that mildly tantalizing promise of continuation and closure in front of you for a tiny bit longer, because a weird and funny thing happened to me this weekend and I feel compelled to tell you about it.
Sunday night. 7:00 p.m.
You don’t really need any background for this story, other than the fact that I was on retreat for four days doing various yoga-related things in Austin.
It was Sunday night. I’d just come out of a six hour class. Four hours of lecture, two hours of yoga practice.
I was tired and achy. And woozy from a combination of serious information overload, meditative bliss, and not having eaten since an early breakfast.
The cab company had told me to expect about a thirty minute wait, so I took care of the food thing and the calling my gentleman friend thing … still no cab.
After forty-five minutes I called the company back. What follows is our conversation, which — while brief — is at least as fascinating as the one I had talking to a wall last week.
Listen to this.
Oh, also listen to it with the fabulous Texas drawl because it’s even better that way. On his end, not mine. Since I can’t do it.
Me: Hi! I called forty five minutes ago? I’m at _______ and ________. Still waiting on that so I thought I’d check.
The guy: Ma’am? It’s the Superbowl, ma’am. We don’t have any cabs, ma’am.
Me (in my head): ?!
The guy: Ma’am?
Me: (out loud): So … no one’s coming?
The guy: Well … it’s the Superbowl, ma’am.
Me: So … I should do something else instead of waiting here?
The guy: Yes, ma’am. That’s what I’d suggest.
That was it.
Well, then there was some hysterical laughter on my end. And then I called Pace and Kyeli and they picked me up, which was lovely of them.
I don’t really even need to pull out a lesson from this. You can pretty much choose your own.
But I will say that (as a general rule) I love interacting with entrepreneurs because you know, I am one.
I tend to identify with them way more than I should. And I’m considerably more forgiving of screw-ups. Since, you know, they happen.
This particular interaction, though … I’m still not even sure what to take from this. I mean … there’s so much in here.
Like:
- Obviously one should never go to Texas during football season. Clearly that was a horrible mistake.
- The good old “if you’ve promised something you can’t deliver, notify the person the second you realize it’s not going to happen” lesson. Which I’ve already learned. The
annoyinghard way. By making that mistake and regretting it. - Apologizing sincerely and sometimes profusely will always get you somewhere. Sigh. I know that one far too well too.
- And of course, never go up against a Sicilian when death is on the line.
Knowing what your options are and not liking them is still better than not knowing.
That and not underestimating the power of a teeny tiny little admission of suckiness … always a good thing.
The littlest “Wow, our mistake really messed things up for you … that’s got to be frustrating.”
It definitely would have made my experience slightly less surreal.
That is all.
See you guys tomorrow.
Item! I am the epitome of brevity!
A somewhat goofy mini-collection of stuff I’ve been reading, stuff I’ve been thinking about and oh, some completely random crap.
Basically the stuff that never gets mentioned here because I’m not the kind of person who can just make some teeny little point. Not into the whole brevity thing, as the Dude would say.
Actually, I’m under the strict compulsion to write ten pages about anything on my mind. So this is me. Practicing brevity.
Even more brevity than usual … thanks to carpal tunnel.
Which I should be bitching about but am actually kind of loving because it allows me to outsource absolutely everything that’s not writing.
Pain. It really is that much more effective than Michael Gerber.
Item! Post No. 10 in the series that gives me something to do with all those windows I have open in Firefox.
Item! I am not the only person who has long, frustrating and sometimes amusing conversations with my body!
This is a terrific post from our very own Wormy about the answers you get when you try and listen to your body.
I read it three times. It rocks.
Very provocative. It will get you thinking about all sorts of useful and interesting things.
Also … typing out loud here … I may put together a collection of posts by people other than me who are also doing this whole “conversation with a part of myself”. Because I’m amazed by how many people are just doing it. In a powerful and non-cheesy way.
And having results like crazy.
So mention yours here if you like!

Item! Seth Godin is still my favorite thinker of thoughts!
Most biggified internet-ey people are not really all they’re cracked up to be, if you ask me.
Seth is, though.
He is that good. He is that smart. Everything he writes is worth reading. Carefully, thoughtfully and attentively.
Because it’s useful.
This post — love and annoying — is an especially important one.

Item! Thank you for saying this!!
I adore Amy Hoy for all sorts of reasons, but I especially loved this tiny piece of wonderfulness on Twitter (which I’m censoring because I suck):
“you entice me with “womens business network” (ok, i’ll bite) & then the post i see on your site is about weight loss? 2 words: @&#% you.”
Thank you.
Thank you. I have so much to say about this that I kind of need it to be the subject of a five-post-rant, but like I said, my hands hurt.
Here’s the short version.
At least a few times a week I get annoyed by something that’s supposedly for women in business (go away, Pink magazine) that’s really about buying shoes or looking hot.
Ew ew ew ew ew ew ew. Ew.
That is all. I love Amy.

Item! Sometimes other people explain your thing better than you!
Sari’s brilliant Shiva Nata post explains terrifically well the thing I’ve been trying to explain to the world for the past four years.
Or five. Whatever.
I talk a lot about the wacky yoga brain training work that I do. About how it has helped me as a consultant because of how quickly I can understand how systems work and find the connections between everything. About how I used it to learn German.
About how everything that appears to be some kind of innate talent of mine is actually something I acquired through this incredibly bizarre practice.
But Sari actually explains it. It’s fascinating. Read please!

Item! It’s still all about finding your Right People!
Obviously in business this is true. It’s also true in relationships, in creative ventures, in partnerships and in love.
Anyway, Steve Spalding wrote a lovely post about your Right People and the value of figuring out who they are.
Very useful.

Item! This is the funniest thing I’ve read all year that wasn’t written by Jenny!
“Making matters worse, Dewley was laid off from work late last week after mistakenly wrestling his boss’s wife, a dignified woman in a large peacock-feather hat, to the ground.”
And it just gets better. Man Gets Into Mess Usually Reserved For Stars Of Silent Film Era. Oh yes.

That is all.
Enough for now.
Selma and I will rest up and be back to our usual tricks tomorrow.
*blows kisses*