Just words, still. I’ve dabbled in adding images to posts. It’s also tempting to showcase some of my own. Yet, I continue to believe images dilute my words. So, these posts will still be all words. But I will also try…
Sunday photo posts. Cause I have several that are share-worthy on space larger than provided by Instagram.
Lighten up on loved ones. I rip on buddies for still doing traveling consulting. I criticize the marketing strategy of my mother’s franchise. I deliver commentary on being uncluttered despite my gf having a penchant for stuff. So I will light up on them. Actually, I take that back. I’m going to rip on loved ones harder and more publicly than ever before. Much more interesting.
Time off. I think there’s something cool about a daily blog. But I also believe in the power of rest. Blogging, like eating right or creating the world, requires taking breaks. No breaks is for marathon runners — emaciated and tired. Breaks are for sprinters — strong and energized. My first break from this blog starts tomorrow and goes through the New Year. During that time, I’ll focus on playing tennis, getting tan and responding to your comments.
Get to know my readers. That’s always been the best part of writing, for me. On this blog, I know many of you from growing up. Some readers are from the blogosphere. Either way, I’d like to engage you all more in discussion. It’s more fun (and beneficial) than just speaking in front of the lecture hall.
So with that, who are you?
I can see stats of how many people visit. And can make a decent guess who reads my stuff. But how about we make it official?
What’s your story?
What’s our story?
What do you want to see more of?
Perhaps you discover another blogger you’re interested in. Or maybe they find you. Even better, you’re not a blogger but can feel like one for five minutes.
CTA: Leave me a short (or long!) note in the comments below.
The people who attempt to climb Mount Everest are all alike. Nuts. And one more thing. They all know the power of visualization.
These people visualize the entire journey. From planning in their living room to hanging on to life in a frigid, rocky, and oxygen-deprived base camp tent, they visualize themselves at the summit.
Because if these guys focused on the pains incurred during the climb, most wouldn’t even begin. And if they did, they’d be less likely to reach the top. And if they did reach the top, it would be a lot less sweet.
This job? That job? This project? That project? This marketing tactic or that one?
No worries about that “how I’m going to get there” stuff. I’ve figured out where I want to be.
I want to be an influential leader in the American Health and Wellness Advocacy community.
Notice there’s no “doing verbs” like change or sell or build. That’s all “how you’re going to get there” stuff. That’s all stuff I’m doing, but most of it is getting me “where I want to be.” Anything not getting where I want to be should and will stop.
Want the formula? Fill in the blank: “I want to be a ________ (adjective and title/impact) in the _______ (specific community/niche).”
Some more examples:
I want to be a well-respected trial lawyer for personal injury plaintiffs in Illinois.
I want to be an innovator for the women’s apparel business in the Midwest. (Hi, Mom.)
I want to be an active, present, and retired grandfather to my family.
Your “where you want to be” can and will change. For a while, mine was a “calculated risk-taking entrepreneur in the road-warrior consultant world.” Now, it’s “an influential leader in the American Health and Wellness Advocacy community.” Later, it will be different.
But, I like where my “where you want to be” is now.
Lately, I’ve been giving the same advice. It’s not specific to food or fitness. I’ve found myself giving career advice. And the advice has turned out to be pretty good.
My career advice is a consulting buzzword. Actually, it’s probably more of an aphorism. Here it is:
First, figure out where you want to be [hand gesture]. Then figure out how you’re going to get there [hand gesture].”
Figuring out where you want to be, or what you want to is gold. To a hiring manager, it can explain four jobs in four years. It makes you valuable and attractive. It makes you seem more honest and trustworthy. More employable.
But the best part of figuring out where you want to be? The “how you’re going to get there” part becomes very clear. You’ll hardly ever be lost.
It’s time to figure out where you want to be. Me included.