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.
Some good advice is meant to be ignored
In which I do something fabulously stupid and enjoy the hell out of it.
Some day scientists will isolate the part of the brain that thinks it’s fun to ignore the very sensible, practical things that everyone tells you.
You know — the rebellious part of the brain whose job it is to release joyful chemicals when you’re doing something that goes against all common sense and advice to the contrary. And they’ll probably give it a really cool name.
I have to say, I get a big crazy rush when this part of my brain takes over. It doesn’t happen that often but when it does, wheeeeee!
Two possibilities …
There are two ways this kind of decision can play out.
One is disastrously.
This is what is often known as “the stupid streak” — a phrase I took from one of my all-time favorite novels, Richard Russo’s Nobody’s Fool.*
[Aside: If you’ve read Russo’s Empire Falls and thought “A Pulitzer? Meh”, go read Nobody’s Fool. It’s the one that should have gotten the Pulitzer. I really don’t know why they never ask me. Just saying.]
“Such sudden sensations of well-being … were, in fact, leading indicators of the approach of a condition that Sully had come to think of as a stupid streak, where everything he did would turn out wrong, where each wrong turn would be compounded by the next, where even smart moves would prove dumb in the particular circumstance, where thoughtlessness and careful consideration were guaranteed to arrive at the same end — disaster.”
Ah yes. I think we all know what that feels like.
On the other hand, the other way this thing can go is fabulously.
This is the gambler’s high. You go against the grain. You take the leap. You mix your metaphors. You do the thing you know you have to do and it ROCKS. Cue cheesy end-of-bad-hollywood-movie music.
That’s what I’m talking about, baby.
Anyway, I’m in it right now.
I’m doing something that is the exact opposite of every single piece of business advice I’ve ever received from every single person I respect.*
* Except for Naomi-my-internet-crush (who is also mad as a hatter) and my designer (who just really likes it when I’m happy).
It could be a stupid streak. But it feels more like wheeeeee!
Because no nooz is good nooz.
I’m sick of writing the noozletter. There. I said it.
It used to be a highlight. One of my favorite parts of having a business. Twice a month I got to put on my writing cap and be a writer. In an active “look, I’m doing the thing!” kind of way.
Obviously in my heart and head I’m always a writer. Just never got to be in writer-mode all that often. So writing the nooz was really fun.
Plus people really, really love it. Every time I send one off I get mad fan mail — just sweet, personal contact from the awesomest people ever.
It is a mystery to me how my readership seems to be entirely made up of really bright, thoughtful, inquisitive people, but wow. I’ve gotten to meet some of my favorite people ever through the noozletter.
But a lot has changed since December 2005 when I started writing it. For one thing, I wrote a bunch of ebooks and have other fabulous writing projects in the works.
For another, I has a blog. Which means I get to write all the time. And blogging? Way more fun than noozletter writing. The thing no one tells you about blogging is that it’s basically free therapy. It rocks.
So I began noticing resistance and “do-not-want”-ism showing up — and I started thinking about the life cycle of passion.
The life cycle of passion
My nooz is almost three years old. That’s really old.
Well, it is in internet years — where a blog that’s been around a couple months can already be a freaking establishment for crying out loud.
Here are the life stages of my baby:
1. Baby nooz is unsteady on its feet. Makes a very uh, select few people happy every month or so. I feel nervous and excited and hope I won’t drop it on its head.
2. Toddler nooz is already off-to-school nooz. I’m sharing techniques that I use with clients, and people are using them! Weird. Awesome. I feel curious and a little tired.
3. Nooz comes out every two weeks like clockwork. It’s totally its own thing with its own personality now. It’s separate from me.
I stop trying to give people big techniques and start focusing on little mind shifts that can help them do stuff a little differently right now. I’m meant to do this. I am a writer. I feel elated and giddy.
4. Teenager nooz has its own friends. People email my duck. Seriously. Anything I write will automatically get a ton of email responses. Which is cool. But ack! Responsibility. Adulthood kinda sucks. I feel conflicted.
5. My nooz is all grown up and off to college. I start blogging. I discover that writing every day or almost every day is more fun than doing it just every other week.
So what to do now?
Anyway, this is where I was as of last week. Pre-stupid streak. I mean, pre-ecstatic-high.
I was feeling frustrated because I knew that the noozletter was becoming a “should”. And oh boy, I don’t work well when I’m in resistance.
So on the one hand, I really needed to know I could trust myself to a. be there for the people who depend on me and b. do the right thing for my business.
And on the other hand, I was needing some reassurance that my life wasn’t going to have the fun sucked out of it. Because shoulds are bad for your mental and emotional health. And they’re bad for business.
There was some hair-tearing.
And then I started asking everyone I know for advice. Which was a mistake. Because they all told me what I didn’t want to hear.
Here’s what everyone said:
They told me what I already knew. That you gotta have a list. That writing a noozletter is how you connect to the people you want to help so that they can get help from you.
And so they can feel safe and comfortable with you, so that should the time come when your products and services are useful to them, they feel excited rather than anxious.
And then I would say:
Okay, but having a bunch of blog subscribers, while not as much of an intimate connection, is actually better. Because they do that whole interactive thing.
And then they would say: You have to have a newsletter. You have a relationship with the people on that list. You can’t just dump it.
And then I’d say: Well, I think the wave of the future is going to be blog-based relationships. People will use lists more like fan-clubs — as a way of giving people special attention — but the weekly or bi-weekly article is on its way out.
Et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.
I realized that we could go back and forth until the cows are already home and tucked in bed, but it didn’t change the basic fact that I just didn’t want to write the noozletter.
It was clearly time to turn down the input from the logical part of my brain and check in with the other parts.
Here’s what my body said:
Blech. Yuck. Ack. Ptooey.
It said: resentment and resistance aren’t good for you. You know what’s good for you? A relaxed, happy state of mind is good for you. Writing is good for you. Creating is good for you. Go do some more of that.
And then I did some meditation and stuff and realized: my goal is still to help as many of the people I’m meant to help as possible. And the nooz just no longer feels like the right way to do it. The way to do it is to go where the mojo is.
I felt better.
So much better in fact that I yelled “OMG, I’m dumping the nooz!”
And that’s when the buzz kicked in. Wheeeeee!
Stupid streak? Maybe. But I don’t care.
The thing I’m taking from this.
My noozletter has grown up. It’s moving on.
It’s not old. I am not saying that my noozletter is old. It’s not wearing frumpy clothes. It’s not like we’ve reached “stick this baby on an ice-floe” time or anything …
It’s just that I’m done with it. Things are changing and shifting. I’m going with what feels like the right way rather than what sounds like the right way..
Here’s what’s going to happen. I’ll still get to hang out with all or most of the smart, wonderful people that I adore. All the teachings, the lessons, the insights, the goofiness — they’re not going away. They’re just going to be here — on the blog.
I’ll still use my list to connect up with because I adore them. I’ll give them special prices on my stuff and send out some case studies and things that I think are useful and important. But the every-other-week nooz is no longer a thing.
Maybe it will start a trend and all sorts of biggifiers will start dumping their noozletters too. Or maybe I’m an idiot and this is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever done to my business. I doubt it, but it’s possible.
In that case? Oh, well. Then we’ll rethink things and change course. Or I still won’t care. In which case you’ll find me right here. Writing up a storm.
P.S. Special thanks and a big fat kiss to my wonderful designer for the many gorgeous old-timey nooz designs. Showcased here: some of my favorites.
Clearing out congestion (oh, and my office too)
My cold cleared. (yay!)
You know how being sick kind of puts you in this heightened state — a weird place where you’re both more and less aware of everything?
I mean, you can’t concentrate because of the stuffiness and the fogginess and the not being able to sleep. But somehow with most of your brain turned off, you can plug in to other abilities and things come up. Useful things. Mostly.
It might have just been the crazy, evil and completely ineffectual chinese herbs I was taking (never again). Screw you, crazy evil ineffectual chinese herbs.
Sorry, got distracted there.
Did I mention that this was the worst cold I’ve ever had and that it was 103° in Portland?*
*That’s 39° celsius for my European and Israeli readers who want to sympathize with me.
And that I wasn’t taking stuff to help the symptoms because you can only stop taking the crazy, evil, ineffectual chinese herbs that taste-like-death once your symptoms stop on their own? I mean, with the “help” of the herbs?
Screw you, crazy evil ineffectual chinese herbs that taste like death and have zero noticeable positive effect on my ever-worsening cold for three days and three (sleepless) nights until I give up and curse you. And then get better.
Okay, guess I’m still annoyed. Annoyed enough to ignore all rules about using commas. Back to the point.
Clearing takes many forms.
Pretty much any time I get sick, it’s related to me avoiding some kind of confrontation.
I know that sounds a bit wacky, but I’ve literally gone from fevered and delirious to 100% fine just by biting the bullet and finally having that awkward, horrible conversation.
It’s happened so many times and with such reliable results that as soon as a cold comes on I stop everything and ask myself, “Okay honey, who are you avoiding?”. And usually dealing with that is enough to heal it. This time nothing really came up.
Well, fine. Lots of things came up. I mean, being human and all, I’m pretty much always avoiding or repressing something. But nothing that felt like it was “the thing”. So I waited it out.
And while I waited, I worked with two themes.
One was just letting stuff be miserable, because sometimes stuff is miserable. Letting myself be in the stuck. Letting myself not want to be in the stuck, but still be there.
And the other was looking for ways to symbolically clear out congestion and stuckness in my life.
What I did.
I started dumping stuff. Like a woman on a mission.
Of course, thanks to Jen’s cool “give your home office a spa day” thing last week, I was already kind of on an organizing kick. But this was hard core. I took on The Pile.
Yeah, baby. The pile.
The pile that started before I left for Germany and never got taken care of. Papers, ideas, filing, everything that needed attention and wasn’t going to get it.
This pile was obviously really just a pile, and a pretty orderly one at that. But in my mind it had already taken on vast propotions. Kind of like a larger-than-life Pigpen from the Peanuts cartoons. Trailing swarms of flies and clouds of dirt in its messy, messy wake.
I transformed the bed into a lumpy pile-sorting station. And armed with a box of tissues and a large bottle of pomegranite-blueberry juice, climbed right in.
The pile took the better part of an afternoon. Slog city.
Though I’m pretty sure if I hadn’t had to stop for nose-emptying breaks, recovering-from-evil-chinese-tea breaks and emergency-calming-techniques breaks, it could have gone much faster.
Every time I dumped something I said something cheesy and fabulous like, “Whee, look at me symbolically clearing out congestion and making room for new awesomeness!”
The dumping: it is fun.
When the pile was gone I went right on dumping. It was fun. It was addictive. It was cleansing. Plus, I was so on a roll.
I’d already broken up with my chiropractor this week, now it was time to break up with the herbalist (who is actually really, really fantastic and I adore her). Luckily I am the master of the really loving break-up, so it was okay and no hurt feelings.
Then I unfollowed about ten people on Twitter. Take that! Ha!
(I only do loving break-ups with people I’ve actually met).
Then I cleared stuff out of the refrigerator. Tossed some clothes. Recycled like crazy.
And now my nose is clear. My head is clear. My thoughts: slightly more lucid.
I’m not saying that the mad rush of de-pile-ing gets all the credit for it. I’m only saying that it was good for me to let go of a bunch of stuck horribleness.
And the take-away is …
1. Clearing stuff out is always useful, no matter what you’re trying to achieve with it.
2. If you can’t clear stuff out on one level, try another one.
I wasn’t getting anywhere with the herbs (which work on the physical level and the energetical level), but made big crazy progress with the cleaning and sorting (emotional level).
That’s it. Will update if there are further insights now that a. my brain is mostly functioning again and b. I’m almost well enough to get back to my yoga brain training epiphany wackiness.
More important: no more cooties! Snot-free internet hugs for everyone!
Friday Round-up #2
Because traditions are important. In which I cover the good stuff and the hard stuff in the week that was, trying for the non-preachy, non-annoying side of self-reflection.
And if you feel like it, join in!
This week: The “maybe don’t store vitamins in a container that — though the perfect size — has the words ‘urinary tract infection’ on it, because really, is that the most appetizing thing to have on the table when there are guests?” edition.
The hard stuff
I ordered my first adult raincoat this week.
No, let’s rephrase that. I paid $150 for a raincoat.
That’s oh, about ten times what I paid for my last raincoat ten years ago, and the more I try to wrap my head around that the more insane that seems.
It’s not really about the money. It’s more that I don’t even want a fancy-pants grown-up raincoat. What do I need to look like a grown-up for? Isn’t that the whole point of working from home?
Yes, I believe it is. In fact, I have a job that allows me to be barefoot pretty much whenever I want, which — as it happens — is all the time.
But I’m going to this seminar in September. In Vancouver. Where it will be raining. Obviously. And also, it’s really time to make peace with the fact that I live in Portland where it also rains. (Cough. Understatement).
Also, you may recall that one of the lessons I learned teaching at the Berlin Yoga Festival this summer was: have a raincoat that a grown-up would actually wear.
Anyway, I’m a grown-up now, and it’s kind of weird. Whatever, this raincoat had better have the ability to deflect dragon attacks. Or at least come with a personal assistant.
Sick of being sick
So I had to miss the awesome work on your business with crayons event that I was all excited about. Because I got sick.
I don’t get sick very often, and because I’ve got degrees in wackiness and a bunch of ninja techniques, I can usually clear illness really fast.
This time nothing’s working. Acupuncture, acupressure tricks, meditation tricks, evil chinese herbs … bubkes.
It’s just me and the gazillion-degree heat and snot all over my face. I’m enjoying the time off and not fighting it, but will be really REALLY glad when it clears.
The good stuff
Tea and inspiration
Remember my friend Jennifer Hofmann from Inspired Home Office? The one I raved about because of her genius home office spa day?
We met up for tea this week. I don’t have a lot to say about this aside from the fact that every once in a while you just click with someone really fast in a big way and it’s awesome. Both awesome-cool and awesome-fearful.
Came away from our meeting with a ton of great ideas and even more adoration/appreciation for the amazingness that is Jen.
Speaking of friends
Speaking of friends, Mark Silver popped by yesterday out of the blue. Yes, having a cold is no fun, but the upside to being sick is taking the day off.
Which means I had unscheduled guilt-free time to hang out with Mark and talk up a storm about blogging and business and all sorts of other things. Fun!
Also, Mark’s a good guy. The kind of guy who doesn’t give you a weird look when you serve him juice in a wine glass. A Harley Davidson wine glass. Classy.
Bonus lesson in perspective
I remarked to my gentleman friend last night how lucky it was that when Mark popped by unannounced, we were totally prepared for it.
My evidence?
a. I was mostly dressed (despite the crazy heat),
b. there were fresh flowers on the table, and
c. just the day before I had finally dusted the cobwebs off of the mailbox and the door!
Score! Right?
To which my gentleman friend sweetly pointed out:
a. those flowers were in a whiskey bottle,
b. the table was sticky, and
c. there were piles of paper all over the living room.
He has a point. I mean, since we clean on Fridays, Thursday afternoon is pretty much the least attractive time to visit us.
So I said “oh”.
Not because I was upset or anything. I mean, he was absolutely right about all of those things. It also didn’t bother me because I feel comfortable enough with Mark that it’s not a big deal.
Actually, it probably wouldn’t bother me no matter who it was (well, other than the in-laws).
It was just funny how we were both there, looking at the same scene, absorbing identical information — and seeing different things.
And a reminder that a. multiple versions of reality are completely possible and b. yours (well, mine) still will always feel right. And then we laughed and drank juice out of the Harley glasses.
Also, I just want to say that I haven’t had a friend drop by unannounced since I lived in Tel Aviv (where it would happen at least a few times a week). Very cool.
That’s it for me ….
And yes, you’re totally welcome to join in my Friday ritual if you feel like it and/or there’s something you just want to say out loud too.
Happy weekend. Happy week to come.
Shot by Men With Pens (Take 3)
Part Three in the “reworking my blog” series
Remember? I got my site reviewed by Men with Pens and promised to share all the neat stuff I learned with YOU.
Including what I’m taking from their useful advice, what parts I’m ignoring (even though maybe I shouldn’t), and why.
Just so we’re all clear … caveats, etc.
Remember how last time there was a bit of hullaballoo vocal discussion in the comments?
Well, even more landed in my inbox, and a couple of people who didn’t participate in the comments discussion didn’t realize that the advice I got from these lovely men (with pens!) was not completely random and unsolicited.
So I just wanted to say for the record:
-
1. Solicited? Hell, yeah. I went and asked Men With Pens for this advice.
- 2. In fact, I paid them for it. Not much, admittedly. $30 is an absurdly low fee to get professionals to review your website, but it was a transaction all the same, one you can take advantage of too.
- 3. It is completely clear to me that I don’t have to take any of their smart advice — and that they knew I wouldn’t feel obliged to actually listen to them if I didn’t feel like it.
Alright. Boring part over. Let’s talk about my website and — by extension — yours, and the extremely sexy important theme of navigation.
Talking about navigation …
This is actually the main reason I dropped $30 on their drive-by shoot-up-your-website thing.
I have a tormented and passionate relationship (well, let’s say “love-hate with the emphasis on love”) with website navigation. Specifically with what to name the different pages on my site.
Yes, this is another post about wordishness. I can’t help it. Words make me happy. Or, depending on how they’re used, drive me nuts.
And so I spend an inordinate amount of time thinking about what to call things and why.
For some reason, this is fun for me.
You’ll notice that there are eight little links in the navigation bar up top. Men with Pens zeroed in precisely on the ones I was most unsure about. Keep in mind that I’ve made some changes since their review, some based on their suggestions and others not … but that’s not the point.
The point is that there are certain parts of the navigation that I feel 100% about, and others that were meh — and Men With Pens immediately picked up on that.
Awesome. Great minds and all that.
Basically they don’t like the ones that I don’t like, and — here’s where it gets interesting — for entirely different reasons.
Sometimes their reasons are better than mine — and sometimes their reasons help me understand more about my reasons.
Let’s start with the something we definitely do agree on.
Men with Pens:
The navigation titles aren’t clear enough to the average visitor happening by your blog.
This is probably true. In fact, I’m sure it is.
I mean, it’s true for almost every website I’ve ever been on, and no matter what you do, there are always going to be people who just don’t get it. But you do want as many people as possible to get it.
Especially the people who are your right clients — the ones you most want to help.
Figuring out how to speak to those right people in the navigation is one of the things that anyone building a website agonizes over — and then constantly tweaks.
My navigation titles have changed more often than anything else on my site in the past three years. Some for the better, some still not sure about. So yay! Bring it on.
Issue #1: “Is this you?”
“Is this you?”… Well, yes, this is me. What of it? I have no incentive to click through and I’m not sure what I’ll read if I do.
Okay, this was actually cramp-inducingly funny for me, because it was a big gigantic lightbulb moment of the kind every business owner absolutely needs. This thing called “perspective” is the weirdest, coolest thing ever.
Let me explain. In the world I come from (self-help-ey, yoga-ey, coach-ey work-on-your-stuff stuff), everyone says “Is this you?” on their websites. I can think of fifteen sites just off the top of my head that do this.
Saying “Is this you?” is so completely de rigeuer where I come from that it didn’t even occur to me that this isn’t at all true outside of those places.
In fact, I was completely expecting James and Harry to have issues with “Is this you?”. It’s just that what I was imagining that what they’d say was this:
[In my head, yes? Not in real life!]
“Come on, do you really have to be a boring blah-blah-freakity-blah cliche like everyone else?”
Huh? At first I didn’t even understand what they were getting at, but then I took a step back — oh, right. We don’t swim in the same pool. Men with Pens don’t hang out in the version of the online world that I hang out in. And really, why would they?
Oh, is there anything better than the realization (again!) that the world is so much bigger and full of possibility than the slice of it you happen to inhabit?
So: “Is this you” is standard formula in my industry. Do I like it? Meh. Not married to it. Am I going to change it?
Well, I’ve been trying “Might be you?”, but just not digging it. “Sound like you?” is kind of a big silent screw-you to anyone who is visually oriented, which is most people and also everyone I know.
Yeah. I don’t know what to call it. I do know that this page (and its place in the navigation) has two functions:
The first thing is to make it extra-clear exactly what kind of people my work is for. It’s my red velvet rope, to use a Michael Port-ism.
The second function is to give me a place to send people when they think they want to work with me but actually they don’t. Because when you’re a consultant people will sometimes just call you up and want to give you their money.
Doesn’t happen all the time, but it happens. And sometimes these are people who are just not a good fit for your business. Instead of having to have a time-wasting “get to know each other” initial consultation, you just point them back to your “Is this you?” page — and they figure it out.
I love this page (hey, wanna read it?). I’m absolutely willing to call it something else that will fill the same function, but in a way, this is the most important page on the site.
Open to suggestions!
Issue #2: “Working together”
“Working Together” also isn’t clear, and “How I Work With You” may be a better choice. “How We Work Together” is another alternative.
Done! Changed to “How we work together”. Thank you. That was super helpful and answered a big silent question of mine.
Love it.
Issue #3: “Get stuff”
Men with Pens were not crazy about the “Get stuff” category. And they have a point.
[Note: this is the section that (as of this writing) is called The “Store”.]
“Get Stuff.” What stuff? What is stuff? Clear that up again. “Free Goodies” might be a better choice (if the goodies are indeed, free). Everyone knows what that means.
“Get Stuff” also comes off as flat instead of lighthearted. “Free Stuff” is another choice.
Okay, this clearly isn’t clear. I was trying to be light-hearted. I was not trying to imply free stuff. This site is full of free stuff, but not there. In fact, it’s the one place that isn’t all free stuff.
Basically what I want is a word for “products” that isn’t products.
Because I hate the word products. It’s so sterile and cold and yuck. Pretty much all my associations are negative: factories, warehouses, executive suites, not to mention: more plastic junk the world doesn’t need …
Store? The word “store” is also annoying. Plus I think the shopping metaphor and associated terminology (“add to cart“, etc.) never translated well to the internet because buying something online is such a different experience than real-world “shopping”.
Yes, I’m aware that this ship has already sailed.
Still, it seems stupid to call something a store that has like, three items in it.
Tried calling it “resources”. Too vague.
Tried using “booth” for a while about a year ago but no one got it, obviously. Yes, I get that being clever is never a good idea. But I also don’t want to be lame. And “store” and “products” are kinda lame.
This is not about ‘improving sales”. Sales are fine. There is always room for improvement — such is the nature of business — but I’m certainly not complaining.
Yes, two people have written to me to say they couldn’t find my products, but coincidentally these were also two people who wanted me to consider switching to their shopping cart system. Grain of salt, yes?
I talked this over with the usual suspects (colleagues who do web consulting and copywriting) and they all said the same thing which was: “Whatever. ‘Stuff’ works for your audience, and you use it consistently. It’s the vernacular of what you do.”
But I’ve done some hard thinking.
And I really do want to be as clear as possible that hey, if you’re already looking for the place where you get to buy useful things that let you take this work home with you, here it is.
So … for now it’s the “store“. With what would be “airquotes” if we were “speaking”. (If that didn’t make you laugh, you need to spend more time at the “blog” of “unnecessary” quotation marks.)
And just so you know, in the “store” you’ll find my Emergency Calming Techniques package, the Procrastination Dissolve-o-Matic, a Starter Kit for hard-core yoga brain training work, and some amusing commentary from me.
I’ll be creating more good stuff for the “store” as time goes by, though I doubt there will ever be so many things there that it will lose its “quotation marks”.
Issue #4: “Habits blog”
And the last bit of navigation I was unsure about was the link to the blog.
Lastly, “Habits Blog” could use another title too. “Good Habits Blog” might be a better choice, as habits in themselves have a negative connotation and association.
This was interesting — and a good idea. I just don’t want to use it.
And here’s where I can finally draw on expertise rather than gut feeling, because now we’re completely in my area (habits) and not their area (websites).
There is no such thing as a good habit. I teach about how habits work and how to rewrite them, but I don’t teach about “good habits“. As far as I’m concerned they aren’t ever good or bad.
This is really a theme that deserves its own post, but let me just note that any habit that is unconscious and automatic, even if it’s a “healthy” one, needs some love and attention. I also have no interest in helping people kick their habits (ow!).
It’s not about good habits. There are no good habits. It’s about making the patterns behind your habits conscious so you can shift them when you want to.
I don’t know how to say all that in one word. Hence: habits blog. Yeah?
Bottom line: I don’t like “Good Habits Blog” one bit, but I do get that Men With Pens have a valid point about not confusing people.
Luckily, this is now a non-issue, thanks to a technical quirk. Having changed “Working together” to “How we work together”, there isn’t any room up there to qualify the blog. Which is fine. Blog it is.
The Men With Pens mantra: “Be clear, never be clever.”
I’m working on it.
It’s not that I want to be clever so much as that I want to be a. personable (in a real-live Betty Boop way) and b. not annoying.
These suggestions from our Men with Pens have given me lots of nutritious food for thought, and I will absolutely let you know where I go with this.
But for now … ideas? Suggestions?
A way to say “Is this you?” that’s clear and non-cliche? What about the “store”? Do I need to rename the blog or does it work as is?
And yes, I will feel as free to consider and then maybe ignore your wonderful, well-intentioned, thoughtful, insightful advice as I did with that of Men With Pens. That doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate the hell out of it, because I do.
Feedback: totally welcome and appreciated.
Oprah, the Universe and Black Hockey Jesus
Wow, you say. That’s quite a title. Guess we’re not talking about habits-changing or business-biggification today, are we.
You are mostly correct. No, you are entirely correct.
Here’s what’s happening today. I introduce you to one of my favorite people on the internets, tell you an amusing tale full of coincidences and weirdness, and then make you an offer you can’t refuse. Or something.
Warning: slight shockingness to ensue.
If you’ve been reading this for a while, you know — or think you do — quite a bit about my reading habits. You know I mostly read stuff that’s related to my two themes of
1. self-work (rewriting your patterns and habits) and
2. biggification (growing your business in a smart, mindful way).
But, as it turns out, I also read a bunch of stuff that has nothing to do with those themes. Because I am a writer. And because I am a sucker for anyone who can really, really write.
Today we’re talking about my second favorite blog in the world. This is about to get a little awkward because (cough) in order to tell you about it I am going to have to use the word vagina.
Yes, I just said VAGINA on my business blog. I wrote it actually, because saying it out loud (in the specific context of “hi, this is my business blog”) weirds me out a little.
Because I’m going to have to say VAGINA several times over the course of this post, I’d like to distract you by jumping in and mentioning that today’s post is actually brought to you by the word VAGINA. Like on Sesame Street.
And now I’m writing VAGINA again.
About to do it again (sorry).
That’s because I’m trying to tell you about this one amazing blog I really like that you should read because it’s my second favorite blog in the entire world. And in order to do this I have to talk about the wind in your vagina.
Sorry. I knew I was going to mess that up. I didn’t mean the wind in your vagina. It’s the name of the blog, see? Ugh. Never mind.
I know that the wind in your vagina seems — on the surface — like a pretty horribly inappropriate theme name for a blog. Especially for a daddy-blog. Just trust me on this one.
There’s a beautiful explanation that will make you go “Oh!” and then become a rabid fan of Black Hockey Jesus..
Because Black Hockey Jesus — the anonymous, brilliant, twisted, compassionate man and daddy behind this blog — is a seriously terrific writer. I read his stuff religiously and madly love every touching, sweet, insane word of it.
A (very) short history of my affair of the mind with Black Hockey Jesus.
Black Hockey Jesus and I have oh, let’s say disparate ideas of how we met. The version on his blog is shaky at best.
If I were Black Hockey Jesus I’d respond to that with something bizarre, wise and inscrutable like “such is the mysterious nature of the universe”. But I’m not Black Hockey Jesus, so let me just point out that I’m the reliable one in this screwed-up relationship.
Here’s how it really happened.
I said something brilliant and witty on Twitter. As is my wont.
A short time later Black Hockey Jesus showed up in my inbox, swathed in layers of post-modern mystification (a disguise in disguise in disguise) and asked me to be his master.
At which point I went and consulted a certain good book. I refer, of course, to my rather bedraggled copy of “The All Powerful Master Handbook: Your Guide to Stepping on the Backs of Those Who Revere You”.
The guide reminded me gently but firmly that you are always to turn away anyone who comes to you, begging miserably for crumbs from your table of wisdom.
Saying no makes them come back and beg for more. And it makes you look busy. Busy is good. And I quote:
Thou shalt refuse all supplicants no less than three times. Perhaps two and a half times — if and only if on the third time you set for them a distasteful and/or monumentally boring task.
See also Chapter 21: Wax On, Wax Off.
I told Black Hockey Jesus that I would have to talk things over with Selma, my duck. He was impressed.
And he couldn’t let it go. I admit, his obeisance had a certain charm. When he asked me to play Dr. Phil to his Oprah, I tried to play coy by setting conditions (no mustache, no southern accent). In the end he won me over by calling me Black Havi Jesus.
No one has ever called me Black Havi Jesus. It gave me chills.
Also, he had the random coincidental weirdness of the universe on his side. My 9th grade crush on his friend Gabe, for example. Our mutual and obsessive channeling of Shiva, Hindu god of destruction and deconstruction. Stuff like that.
Where we’re going with this …
Well, you can read about it on that blog I was talking about (please note my attempt to sneak out of having to say vagina again).
Black Hockey Jesus explains it better and with more cursing, but basically the idea is that we will go all good cop, bad cop, bad duck on your problem or issue.
You throw out a habit or issue you’re working on and Black Hockey Jesus will try not to make fun of you mercilessly while Selma smiles beatifically.
Then I will do my guilt-free, non-judgmental meeting-you-where-you-are thing, and together we’ll give you some ideas.
Just like Oprah, Black Hockey Jesus gets to be the beautiful glowy one with all the charm, and just like Dr. Phil, I get to be the homely advice-giving sidekick. Is that fair? What is fair?
Never mind that. Here’s what I want you to do:
1. Leave a comment here so I know you know that I haven’t gone crazy, and that tomorrow or at least very, very soon we’ll be back to our regular habits-centric vagina-free programming.
2. Head over to The Wind In Your Vagina (ahh, it looks so much better in caps) and read everything he’s ever written.
3. While you’re there, leave your issue or collection of stucknesses in the comments section of his most recent post and/or send them to blackhockeyjesus@yahoo.com with “Black Havi Jesus” in the subject line.
That’s it for now. *shakes head*