When I was 12, I was desperate to be a supermodel. I remember reading in Seventeen Magazine that Nikki Taylor had been discovered while she was waiting at an airport, so for years after that, every time I flew, I would get breathless with desperation for some talent scout to pluck me from the traveling masses and plaster my face on billboards and magazines. (Thankfully - and no disrespect to supermodels - my older sister reminded me that I have a powerful brain and should do something more meaningful with my life. Phew!)
But that idea that I had to "be discovered" stuck with me. I wasted a good few years of my life, even as an adult, waiting to be chosen, wishing for recognition, waiting for nominations, and wishing for accolades. And I wasted even more of my life feeling deflated when they never came. What an idiot. Because what I realized with time and experience, is that the world doesn't work that way. We are led to believe that if we are good at something or have something to offer or create something worth sharing, that others will magically find out about it and find out about us. "If you build it, they will come" and all that. But that's utter nonsense. A lot of the time, the people on things like Forbes' lists get on those lists because they apply to be on them. A lot of the time, the companies that win awards are the ones that put themselves forward for the awards. A lot of the time, the speakers who deliver key notes at conferences are the ones who pitch themselves as speakers. They're not discovered. They do the work and give themselves a chance, instead of relying on chance. If I had really wanted to be a supermodel all those decades ago, I should have gotten a headshot, gone to auditions, threw my hat in the ring and done the work - and kept doing it and kept auditioning - instead of being passive-depressive about it. Because as wonderful as we all may be and as much as we all may do, no one else is keeping track. No one is tallying all the amazing things we accomplish. No one is talking about our many wonderful ways of giving back. And they (almost) never will. For example, over the past few years, I have volunteered 800 (yes, 800) hours of my time to my alma mater through free mentoring, coaching, and workshops. Is anyone chasing after me with a medal for my service? Is anyone nominating me for some sort of recognition? No, and no. But, if there is ever an opportunity to nominate myself, will I do so? Yes. And, of course. Does that make me a self-promoting jackass? No. Because I did the work. I volunteered the hours. I didn't do it so I could get recognition, but if the opportunity to be recognized arises, then I'm going to recognize myself for how much I contributed and put myself forward. That's what we all need to do. If you did the work, apply for the award. If you meet the requirements, put yourself forward. If you lived the experience, pitch for the story. If you have the product, ask people to buy it. There is nothing holy about obscurity. There is nothing holy about anonymity. And there is nothing unholy about not staying obscure or anonymous. Put yourself forward. Put yourself out there. Put yourself in the race. It doesn't mean you will always get what you want. But trying sure as hell beats waiting for someone else to discover what is wonderful about you or your business when you already know it is there.
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Over this long COVID period, many of us have gotten used to multi-tasking. We've made endless snacks while hosting conference calls. Taken Zoom with us into our bathrooms (yeah, you know you did!). Worked on product pitches while perfecting our Disney-song pitch. Typed up emails while spending "quality" time with our loved ones.
And while multi-tasking was one of our biggest allies during COVID, I think it's important to remember that it's really an enemy wearing a very friendly smile. Now, I get it. We all wear many hats and sometimes all those hats are screaming to be put on at the same time. But if we are honest with ourselves, can we really say we got 10 things done to the same quality as if we had done each one of those things in turn? And did we really need to do those 10 things all at once anyway? For me, I know the answer is no. Because there is a massive difference between multi-tasking and making efficient use of our time. When I take an honest assessment of the times I have been a multi-tasking fool, I find it's most dangerous when I am trying to do something business-critical but allow myself to get pulled into the low value tasks just to get them out of the way. In my attempt to declutter my to-do list of the mundane, I end diluting or prolonging the important. And that's why multi-tasking is a false economy. We delude ourselves into thinking we are getting a lot done, instead of appreciating we're just doing a lot. And doing isn't the same as accomplishing. In our crazy go-go-go world, we have lost sight of the importance of true focus. In our endless impatience to get to the end, we have confused quantity with quality. On this crazy English day, when even the weather seems to be multi-tasking, all I am suggesting is that we get real about the false economy of multi-tasking and try to unitask instead. And when that multi-tasking siren starts tempting us towards distraction and ruin, let's at least try to steer her to the low value things (brushing while showering, ordering groceries while walking, making social plans while cooking...) and harness our best and our focus for our most important work instead. Just a few hours ago, my family and I were sitting down for our traditional Sunday breakfast of pancakes, waffles, and smoothies. Our toddler kept running off to play with her Legos, and I kept trying to entice her back to the table, chasing her around the room with a fork full of food.
Finally, I resorted to the tried-and-true nuclear option: I told her that if she didn't come eat her food right now, then her father would eat it all up instead. And as the words were coming out of my mouth I caught myself. What the hell was I teaching our daughter? That we should only want something so that someone else can't have it? That even breakfast is a zero-sum game? That someone else's gain will always mean her loss? That she has to compete with her father for food? WTF? For so much of our lives we are given messages like this. Lack. Scarcity. Competition. Winner take all. Zero-sum. Only room for one. Someone else has already done it so don't bother. And sometimes, without realizing it or wanting to, we send the same messages back out. But the world isn't like this. And we need to stop living under a scarcity mindset. Sure, there are some things that are genuinely scarce: the element astatine (yes, I Googled that), opportunities to walk on the moon, endangered animals like pikas (Googled that too), and women at the top of pretty much every field you can think of. But many, many other things are not. And it's only once we start having a more abundant mindset that we will see that one person's success doesn't predetermine our stasis, that one person's beauty doesn't diminish our own, that one person's financial gain doesn't mean our poverty, and that one person's critical acclaim doesn't deem us unworthy. In pretty much every aspect of our lives we constrain ourselves with our scarcity mindset, when what we really need to do is start thinking more abundantly. To do away with "All the clients are gone" "All the good partners are already taken" "All the positions I want are filled" "All the art has already been created", and start thinking "Where can I find the right clients for my unique offering?" "Where can I find a partner who will bring out the best in me?" "How can I expand my job search to find a perfect fit?" "How can I create art that is different or unique?" (Spoiler alert: everything you do will be unique because there is no other you out there.) Do you see how the the first is a set of statements, declarative and fixed, that focus our minds on scarcity and lack? And do you see how the second is a set of questions, open-ended and expansive, that challenge our minds to think creatively and abundantly? What a huge difference. So the next time you find yourself saying or doing something from a place of lack or limitation, and telling yourself that you can't be/do/have something because someone else already is/does/has that thing, then please, please, please remind yourself that the world is full of pancakes, metaphoric and actual. And if someone has already eaten the stack you thought was supposed to be yours, you can always make more and make them your own. I have never been the type of person who enjoys exercise for its own sake. Now, don't get me wrong. I love being strong. I love pushing myself physically. And man do I love to sweat. BUT, I have always struggled with workout routines because I much prefer exercise to be incidental (like from dancing) or functional (like training for sports) or me-against-the-course (like competing in Tough Mudder), than for it to be something I just do.
Because boredom is the fastest way for me to quit something - and I don't want to quit on my health - I'm always on the look out for ways to keep exercise interesting for me. So when my personal trainer posted a challenge to do 500 skips (ie, jumping rope) every day in May, I was all in. And the sheer satisfaction I get from doing it, the mental anguish I feel until I complete it, and the thrill I get from ticking it off my list got me thinking. In so many ways, I prefer to live and work the way I eat: tapas-style. I like to have a little of a lot. I get bored easily. (And damn, do I get food envy!) And I need visual, physical, and mental variety. Everything that I have ever been consistent with in my life has scratched this itch. But it wasn't until I started jumping rope that I realized how much this is true. My career has always involved multi-functional roles. The businesses I started have me doing lots of different things each day. My schedule is anything but, and varies day by day with predictable unpredictability. If I tried to do the same thing every single day, I would go brain dead. But maybe you're different. Maybe you love consistency. Maybe you love predictability. Maybe you want to know exactly what you will be doing at 8:43pm on Thursday 13 July. And that's okay too. Because once you tune into what YOU need, and what works for YOU, it's important to hack the hell out of it and work it to your advantage in life, work, everything. For the magpie in me, this means doing 500 skips and then doing a ballet class later that day so that exercise stays interesting. It means writing for a few hours and then doing financial analysis later that day so that work stays interesting. It means having yogurt and honey, one piece of toast, coffee, a smoothie, and fruit in the morning instead of a huge bowl of cereal so that nutrition stays interesting. Doing lots of things does NOT mean multi-tasking - which is a terrible waste of time - but it does mean doing a variety of discreet things one-at-a-time to make the most of my personality. And instead of wishing I were different, trying to force myself to be someone I'm not, I'm finding new ways to leverage my tapas-style tendencies so that I stay consistent with the things I want to stay consistent with (exercise, business growth, nutrition). And the reason I'm sharing this, is because if you want to make a positive change, accomplish something important, push yourself higher - and make the change, accomplishment, or growth sustainable over the long-term - you don't have to change who you are, you have to be MORE in line with who you are. If you're a planner, make a plan before you get going. If you're intuitive, tune into your intuition before you get going. If you're a worrier, work through all your worries before you get going. Use who you are as an advantage, instead of as an excuse to stay fused in place. And if I can help you get there - wherever "there" may be - you know where to find me. If you've been with me for a while, you'll know that my husband and I are lucky parents to a toddler and a baby. And while parenting (or life!) is never easy, I've always found the first year with a newborn particularly draining, physically and emotionally.
With our 6-month old, we had been struggling with bad sleep and bleary-eyed days. For almost 3 months, she was waking up 4-6 times a night, and sometimes our toddler would wake up too just to be a part of the action. And all this night waking meant inevitably short-tempered days for all of us and my feeling at my less-than-best. All of the parents around us had been suggesting we sleep train our baby, and after weeks of misery and illogical resistance, we finally gave in and started on a schedule and a let-her-cry-it-out-at-night plan. And ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh my what a difference it has made. In less than a week, she started sleeping through the night, and we are ALL far more human and humane for it. And I realized that this pattern is how so much growth and positive change in life happens: we make it hard for ourselves, despite knowing there are better alternatives, and then when we finally start on a path towards where we want to be, things are really difficult before they get easy. For our newborn, the first few nights of her new routine she cried for almost an hour before falling asleep. And my husband and I would stare at the monitor, our hearts (and our ears!) cringing. But then she cried for shorter bursts, and then shorter, and shorter, until she started sleeping straight through the night. But those first few nights were brutal. And I wanted to run in and comfort her. I wanted to do something, anything to make it stop. But I didn't. And thank goodness for it. Because now we have a much better and a sustainable way of living and sleeping. It was - as my brother so wisely offered - short-term pain for long term-gain. But too often, and for too many of us, we never start - or we quit to soon - precisely because it is so hard in the short-term. I hear this so many times from the solopreneurs in my group mastermind who resist making a new hire or getting some admin support because "it is too hard to train someone new" or "by the time I teach someone else, I could have done it myself." And then they struggle with burnout and wonder why staying "Chief Everything Officer" isn't working. I hear this so many times from the corporate leaders I coach, who resist putting themselves out there to shine because it feels "icky" and "self-promotey" even though they know being more authentically visible will help them achieve their career goals. And then they wonder why they never get noticed for the right reasons and why they feel stuck in professional limbo. And I hear this so many times from the business school students I mentor who are trying to change careers or want to start their own businesses, but are too "scared" to do something new because there is "too much to learn." And then they wonder why they aren't happy when they go back to their previous careers and why they feel deflated and rudderless. And what I share with all of them - and what I re-learned with my baby daughter just a few weeks ago - is that EVERYTHING is hard before it gets easy. That's just how it is. Everything starts out awkward and icky and scary and overwhelming. Everything worth having requires us to get comfortable with discomfort. Everything is hard, hard, so damned hard before it gets a little easier, and a little easier, and easier still until what we once thought impossible or not for us becomes something we simply do. It's like my brother said, it's short-term pain for long-term gain. And we all owe it to ourselves, to our dreams, our ambitions, our businesses, our relationships to do the important hard things now before it's too late. Before we get complacent or bored or deflated. And before the windows of opportunity close. Think about what you are denying yourself because it's too hard. Think about what are you delaying because it feels awkward to start. Think about what you are diminishing because you can't be bothered to put in the effort. And then decide to do it anyway. |
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