The Human Condition

Here's An Idea Coffee (and Tea) Shop Patrons: Let's Share

noreply@blogger.com (Nila) — Tue, 02 Feb 2010 17:02:00 +0000

Like many entrepreneurs and knowledge workers, I spend a lot of time working in coffee shops and cafes. I have an office, but I like getting out to change my perspective and be in the energy of other people working. Sometimes I'm between meetings and have enough time to get some things done, but not enough to go home and accomplish much. Coffee shops and cafes are great. In exchange for my buying drinks (tea for me, please) and food, the coffee shops and cafes provide me with free wireless and a place to plug in my laptop as well as a place to hold casual meetings. It's a nice relationship.

It seems that as more people have been laid off or have chosen to freelance, the coffee shops and cafes have become increasingly inhabited by more and more people. When I say inhabited, I mean inhabited. The issue is that some people just camp out all day without regard to the other humans moving in and out of the space. Add to that our American need to "own" a table and protect our space and you get a shop filled with lots of empty seats, but no where to sit.

Take right now, for instance. I'm sitting at a 4 top table in Henry's on East in Indianapolis. (Check it out. Great place with great people.) And I have to say I feel a little guilty. Here are three empty chairs and plenty of table space someone else could be using. (If it gets busy, I'll offer the seats to others. Or I'll move on.)

I have a proposal. How about we share? I hear that in Europe, it's standard to practice to take an empty chair regardless if someone is sitting at the table. Can we adopt that practice? It won't hurt you or me or anyone. Really. And it might actually help more people get some wireless and a place to sit – and help the shop earn more income so they can keep the doors open and the wireless free.

I'm thinking that the shops and cafes could offer some sort of table tag or tent or something that signals willingness to share. Maybe even just a card on the table. In a Twitter conversation about this topic this morning @y0mbo (John Uhri) said, "They could use those flip menu stands that show green and red based on willingness to share the table." It could even be as simple as a card that is red on one side and green on the other. Just lay it on the table.

I'd love to hear your thoughts on this. Have you noticed the issue? Have you seen anyone moving to solve the issue? Do you even think it's an issue? Any ideas?

P.S. Mobility is important and these places offer a significant service. So, while we're at it, let's help the shops as much as we can.

Be an evangelist. No, I don't mean for you to prosetylize your religion to other patrons. I'm talking about telling other people about the shop and what you love about it. Help them market.
Buy a little more if you can. They're in business. That free wireless costs them something. You don't always have to buy more than the $1.75 bottomless cup of Joe, but maybe you can add a bagel from time to time.
Tip. It's easy. Toss the change in the jar. Give 'em a buck.

The Delicious Present

noreply@blogger.com (Nila) — Mon, 25 Jan 2010 17:29:00 +0000

I left my house at 8:30 this morning headed for an appointment with my doctor. About 10 minutes away from home (and 15 minutes from the doctor's) I realized I'd forgotten my phone. Instant panic. I thought, "oh my God, how will I know if someone's emailed? And what if someone calls? Plus, that's my watch!" After a few moments of a quickening pulse I came to my senses. "It's only a phone. I'll survive."

For the remainder of my drive, I pushed away a few impulses to grab my phone, my imaginary phone, from my pocket. And while in the waiting room, I felt that familiar twinge when I saw my fellow waiters all happily, or perhaps maniacally, tapping away at their phones.

And then I settled in.

I looked around the waiting room at the colors of the walls and the curves and corners of the furniture. Then I glanced through the window to see big white fluffy snowflakes floating down from the sky. While each flake took it's own gentle journey to the ground, the combination of the wind's influence and each flake's choice of speed and path created a somewhat chaotic and furious dance of white streaks, bobs and swirls.

In that moment I realized that I've been missing a lot with my constant attention to what other people want to be saying to me. Like the individual flakes, we each get to choose our journey. Rather than pay attention to fury and chaos of others, I chose to focus on my own path.

After my appointment I could have rushed home to get my phone. Instead, I went to a restaurant for a good, slow meal. I wrote a little while I waited for that meal to arrive. When it came, I put my pen and paper aside and tasted every single bite, unaware of the time or emails or text messages or phone calls. My meal – and my time in the present – was delicious.

What path will you chose today? What will you savor? Tell me your story.

Big Snowy Sledding Smiles

noreply@blogger.com (Nila) — Mon, 11 Jan 2010 15:32:00 +0000

My kids are in 6th and 4th grades and until yesterday we'd never taken them sledding. Life had always been "too busy" to carve out a chunk of time to put on all the warm gear, get sleds together and find a hill. And that made me sad. You see, every time there's a good snow fall, I think of the days when my father or my sister would take me to Shadyside Park for some good old fashioned fun.

In reality, I think I have been the block to this traditional winter activity. I've spent so many years too fat and too depressed to consider sledding even close to fun. Now that I've lost some weight and feel good [thank you (mostly) dairy-free, gluten-free, protein-rich, low-carb (and so on) diet], I'm ready to live life. In fact, I'm craving it.

So, yesterday, I convinced the family that we had the time. No one argued. Not a bit. We aired up that snow tube we'd bought years ago, the one that had remained neatly folded in its package awaiting a chance to slide. We found the foam sled the kids have used to drag each other around the neighborhood. We crammed it all, with us and a lot of big, fat cold-weather clothes into my little Scion Xb. And we drove off to conquer the hill.

After getting over the momentary shock of trudging uphill in heavy boots, I began noticing the faces of my fellow sledders. Smiles. All of them. And the sounds. Lots of laughter. There was nothing but sheer joy on that hill. Even after a nasty crash or two, the sobs quickly turned to laughter. People of all ages, from toddlers to people in their sixties, were having a blast. I even saw adults with no children squealing with delight as they shared a ride down the hill. These people, including me, were all living in the moment. If only for a few hours, we'd turned off the voices telling us that we had to do our taxes, clean the house, look for a job, write a report or get ready for that presentation on Wednesday. We we're simply living.

It was exhilarating!

I thank my Twitter friends @y0mbo and @johnbthomas who turned me on to the sledding hill at Ft. Harrison State Park. It's a good one.

Bagging Behavior - BYOBags

noreply@blogger.com (Nila) — Mon, 07 Dec 2009 02:31:00 +0000

Just an observation here, for what it's worth, which may be nothing...

I've been noticing people using their own reusable bags at stores, something I rarely saw even a few years ago. Here's how I've seen the behavior break down by store.

Target – A lot of people (half?) at the SuperTarget I go to regularly are using reusable bags. There has been a swift upward swing in BYOBags at Target.
Meijer – I never see anyone reuse bags there.
Wal-mart – a few bring their own. (Can't say I go there too often, either, so my observations here are weak.)
Whole Foods - Most of their shoppers use their own. A few leave with brown paper bags from the store.
Trader Joe's – At least half of the people reuse. The alternative is brown paper bags from the store.

Do you notice any kind of pattern relating to store brand? Based on purely my own observations, the stores with progressive brands seem to attract people who bring their own bags. These are the cool, designer-y, "I'm a Mac" stores. The more practical, traditional stores ("I'm a PC") don't.

Also, unless I've missed something, Meijer and Wal-mart don't offer a bag credit for using your own bags. I haven't received such a credit, at least. Target and Whole Foods offer a bag credit of about 5 cents per bag to use your own. I think Trader Joe's offers some sort of incentive. I used to get a ticket for every bag I used to enter a weekly raffle.

These stores are all relatively close to one another, by the way. So, I've ruled out geography as a factor. Being that my observations are limited to the stores I visit...well, let me just reinforce the completely unscientific nature of my observations.

Oh, one more...Aldi. They have always required you either pay for bags or use your own. I'm still surprised to see people buy bags there. I've been known to load my trunk with loose items when I forget my bags. (I know. I'm a dork.)

You've probably figure out by now, I take my own reusable bags to the store. Not just the grocery store where I finally remember them every time, but I also take them to clothing stores, bookstores, shoe stores, etc. There I need a little more practice before it's a habit.

That's it. No lesson. Just my reported observations. Any thoughts on BYOBags?

Giving Thanks

noreply@blogger.com (Nila) — Tue, 24 Nov 2009 02:34:00 +0000

Today, my post is part of a larger movement being billed as #tweetsgiving on Twitter, an effort to raise awareness and generate funds for Epic Change. Learn more or consider a donation. "Last year, Epic Change, with only a #hashtag and accepting donations online in a 48 hour period, raised over $10,000 for a school in Tanzania. Tweetsgiving 2009 will go partly to create a dormitory/orphanage, library, school, cafeteria and additional classrooms are needed in partnership with Kamptoni in Tanzania. The other portion will go towards funded future change makers and social entrepreneurs in less fortunate conditions."

When Thanksgiving rolls around, I can get caught up in all the shoulds and have tos. The shopping, the meal, the cleaning, how to say no to some people and accommodate others. Then someone will say something that reminds me this holiday is about gratitude.

I’m most thankful for my supportive, understanding husband of 19 years and our two funny, bright children who are now, much to my amazement, 11 and 9. And across my lifetime there have been numerous other people to whom I owe a debt of gratitude, from my parents and siblings to friends and teachers. I’d name them here, but it would take far too long. The best “things” in my life are definitely people. Having said that...

This year in particular, I’m grateful for:

Job skills that don’t rely on an employer. I love being my own employer. I have lots of flaws, but overall, I think I’m a pretty decent leader, even if I’m only leading myself and the dog most days.
Books. Yeah, those bound paper objects that authors, editors and publishers have labored over so that I may be inspired, entertained or otherwise edified. I love books so much that I call my home work space "the library."
Pets. I’ve rediscovered my old dog. She’s become a big part of my daily life.
Coffee shops, free wireless and iced green (or white) tea. I’ve had a lot of fun working alone but not alone. While we’re at it, how about social media in general? I’ve connected with some of the nicest, most genuine people using Twitter, Facebook and LinkedIn. And I’ve seen many of them in person. In coffee shops.
The bizarre system of allergy shots, food avoidance, strange diet, supplements, medication, stress reduction and on and on that has helped me feel way better and lose over 60 pounds. I have my moments of weakness (mmmmm, chocolate) but overall, I’ve found it very livable.

Looking back at that, it really comes down to people, work, connectivity, health, animals and learning. Yeah, that seems about right.

I'm grateful to you, reader, for witnessing my little life here on Earth and for caring what I have to say. May your Thanksgiving be filled with gratitude.

Peace.

Other bloggers supporting Tweetsgiving:
Kenan Farrell
Douglas Karr
Nicki Laycoax
Lindsay Manfredi
Nancy Myrland
Pamela Reilly
Michael Reynolds
Scott Semester
Angie Six
Robby Slaughter
Amy Stark
Jon Speer
Lisa Sirkin Vielee
Scott Wise

Work Isn't Just About Money

noreply@blogger.com (Nila) — Fri, 20 Nov 2009 21:35:00 +0000

My friend is on a courageous quest to find a career that is in alignment with his heart. Talking with a group of friends, he told us the careers he’s narrowed his search to. It’s an inspiring list that feels right for who he is. One of the more cautious of the group commented, “but those don’t pay that well.” I felt knocked back on my heels a bit. Only after a day of contemplation have I been able to verbalize my feelings.

There is income beyond Greenbacks. There are measures beyond coin. What's the cost of staying in a job/career/position that doesn't feed your soul – and may even eat away at it? Every $2 working a job that doesn't make your heart sing (when you're a person who needs to hear your heart singing) could be worth the same or less than every $1 in a job that does make your heart sing.

Maybe you’ve heard Andre Agassi speak about his book and his drug issues. People seem to be incredulous that he resorted to drugs to quell a depression he didn't understand. They say "how could someone who's on the top of his game, famous by anyone's standards and with more than enough money to have whatever he wants be depressed?" Andre's answer is that depression doesn't discriminate. It has nothing to do with how much you make or how famous you are. When it comes, it comes. And his depression came to him when he was feeling stuck in a life that wasn't his.

How does that relate? I think you probably get it, but in case I'm way too far out on a limb: making more money isn't the answer to one’s soul's calling. If amassing wealth regardless of the means (assuming ethics and moral behavior is engaged) feels like your calling, then the constant upward trajectory may be the right path. That’s fine.

As for my friend, he craves something different. Other people look at him and may see good balance in his life. They may see a loving wife and beautiful healthy children. They may see a good job that pays well and that his company loves him. They may even see that in a state that is experiencing over 10% unemployment he has a job. "What more do you want?" they may ask.

My wish for him is that he won’t let all the people who don't “get it“ get to him, that he won’t let them pollute his mind with those pictures of what we've been brainwashed to believe success is – the fat wallet, the big house, the fancy cars, the extravagant vacations. His measure of success might be quite different.

By the way, I’m not so naive to believe that if you find ”it“ that it will be sunshine and roses every minute of the job. All jobs come with annoyances, pain and failures. Even so, there’s just a difference of work that is aligned with your heart and simply going through the motions.

Trust yourself. Dare to be you.

Book Review: The Night Counter

noreply@blogger.com (Nila) — Wed, 18 Nov 2009 20:26:00 +0000

I'm apparently in a phase of consuming writing rather than producing because I have yet another book review for you.

I never know how to pick a novel. A week ago I browsed the new fiction section of my local library branch and found myself attracted to a pretty blue cover, a title in an Arabic font and little stylized stars. What can I say? I’m still a designer at heart, I suppose. Anyway, after reading the flap summary, I decided I’d give the book a shot.

Having now finished, I can say that The Night Counter by Alia Yunis is a highly worthy read. The main character, Fatima Abdullah, is an 85 year old Arab American immigrant who spent the majority of her life in Detroit, Michigan. When we meet her, she is in Los Angeles where she has lived with her grandson for over three years and is visited nightly by the fabled Scheherazade. The story opens on the 992nd night of Scheherazade's visits and progresses through the 1,001st night when Fatima hopes to learn her own fate. Along the way, we learn about Fatima’s marriages, her childhood home in Lebanon and her offspring. As an added bonus, we sit in with two FBI agents eager to exercise The Patriot Act. The story is told third person yet the perspective varies slightly depending on the highlighted character.

As a woman, I can sympathize with Fatima’s joys and sacrifices in her life. As an white American, I was able to look through a different set of eyes at the American culture as well as the false assumptions and prejudices generalized to a whole group of people, especially since 9/11. And regardless of gender or ethnicity, I was reminded of the leaps of logic we make based on our own beliefs and outside influence.

I enjoyed the storytelling – both humorous and solemn. And as a student of the human condition, I appreciate the added perspective to my worldview. Now that I’m done with The Night Counter, I miss Fatima – and Scheherazade.

Book Review: A Year of Cats and Dogs

noreply@blogger.com (Nila) — Mon, 02 Nov 2009 15:08:00 +0000

I can't say exactly what took me so long to read this book. It had been sent as an advance galley copy by the publisher on my request through LibraryThing. The offer description appealed to me with it's promise of animal companions and the I Ching. Perhaps it was simply the timing. I received the book in July shortly after I'd left my job. And things rather suddenly became tumultuous in the life of someone very close to me. I was soul searching, supporting the same for someone else – and I didn't quite want the distraction of escaping into someone's fictional story.

About a week or so ago when the turmoil in my loved one's life came to a conclusion of sorts, I was ready to read something besides blogs, articles and books on brand, business and health. So, I pulled my copy of A Year of Cats and Dogs by Margaret Hawkins from the shelf.

I very quickly connected with Maryanne, the main character who tells her story first person, memoir style. She brought a knowing smile to my face as she related how she just passed through a major transition in her life and then chose to go through another. What she discovers about herself and her immediate world reminded me to accept and believe. The book isn't all lesson, however. In large part, it is simply enjoyable with language that paints word pictures I'm still holding in my mind, having laid the book to rest around 1:00 this morning.

The author uses a few devices to advance the book and add layers of understanding, the two most notable being those I mentioned earlier – animals and the I Ching. While the I Ching does show up in the text, it is mostly found as the chapter titles, corresponding to each of the 64 hexagrams in the Chinese divination system. The I Ching is also known as the Book of Changes, an apt parallel to the year Maryanne shares with readers. Her relationship with her cat Clement and several dogs, especially Bob, Gregoire and Harvey are key to the self-discovery Maryanne experiences as well as much of the action in the book.

I read A Year of Cats and Dogs over about five or six sessions, mostly as my evening relaxation reading. I'm not a particularly fast reader, with fiction especially, so you may find it faster for you. I find that I like to re-read a section or pause to take in the images or feelings of what I've read. As with all fiction (that I like), I had to force myself to call a break for sleep after an hour or so. I could have easily stayed up in to the wee hours reading it from cover to cover.

I'm neither a voracious fiction reader nor particularly critical of literary conventions. What I do want are books that offer glimpses into the human condition through character studies, relationships and symbolism. A Year of Cats and Dogs met my reading requirements nicely.

Book: What Should I Do With My Life?

noreply@blogger.com (Nila) — Fri, 16 Oct 2009 18:22:00 +0000

I recently finished reading What Should I Do With My Life?: The True Story of People Who Answered the Ultimate Question by Po Bronson.

Being a perpetual seeker and one who asks myself the title question often, I'd been attracted to the book off and on over the years. I resisted because I thought it would be a self-help career change book that attempted to guide me as part of the masses through a series of exercises to answer "the question." Yet several people had mentioned or recommended the book and I succumbed to my curiosity.

What I found in Bronson's book was not at all what I expected. The book is a loosely organized collection of stories of people from diverse backgrounds who had asked themselves - and continue to ask themselves - the question. These aren't big "ah ha" stories. They don't follow perfect paths that leads them to save the world and amass great wealth. In fact, I was thrilled with the imperfection of their journeys and results. I was inspired by their spirits. And a few simply annoyed me. But in the end, I felt that I'd been able to gain a bit more insight into the human condition and how so many of us seem to grapple with finding a sense of meaning in our lives.

I was also taken with the writing style and how Bronson collected the stories. He'd connected with over 900 individuals whom he interviewed through various means. He spent significant amounts of time with many of them, essentially living with them for a few hours or days at at time. The writing itself reflects his experiment, the tone or syntax picking up the personality of the individual's story being told. In my opinion, this variation only adds to the experience of my being an observer, both of their lives and my own thoughts.

Socrates said (though not in English), "an unexamined life is not worth living." What Should I Do With My Life? has been a welcome part of my own examination. If you're a student of life and enjoy the stories of real people, give the book a try. Be sure to let go of any expectation that you'll find your answer to the question within the pages of this book.

Dance 3, Looks 10

noreply@blogger.com (Nila) — Sat, 26 Sep 2009 00:32:00 +0000

Earlier this week, I was working in a popular fast casual restaurant and bakery. Yes, I'm one of the hoards of wi-fi users you see occupying tables for hours at a time. But that's beside the point. My story today has been a source of boiling outrage for me.

Here's the scenario. One of the establishment managers was obviously conducting interviews for counter help. I saw him first on the other side of the restaurant talking to a few people. Then he moved to my side. It was very quiet, so quiet that I could hear every detail of the conversations. I realize eavesdropping isn't nice. I can intentionally check out of personal discussions. However, I found myself interested in these interviews. I'm a student of behavior and the human condition, after all. And I'm particularly interested in business and work as a source of happiness.

In interview one, the manager, a man in his early 30s, perhaps a bit younger, was interviewing a woman in her early to mid 20s. She was a touch overweight by American standards. She was dressed well for interviewing, made direct eye contact and spoke with confidence. He asked her about her educational choice (she evidently was looking for a part time job while attending school). She explained that she loves working with and serving people. That's what made her think she'd enjoy the job at this restaurant. As I listened to her speak, I imagined that she'd be serving me and thought that she'd do a nice job of interacting with me.

At the conclusion of the interview he told her what the additional process would be, that two other managers and he would review the resumes and make calls to either set up additional interviews or let the applicants know the outcome. He thanked her and encouraged her to get a refill on her tea before leaving. His demeanor was professional. He was suitably warm, but definitely managerial.

For the second interview, the manager spoke to a another woman, also in her early 20s. She was attractive and appeared to be fit. She was also wearing a dress with a low, revealing decolletage and high hemline that I'd consider completely inappropriate for a job interview. Don't get me wrong; she looked great. It's just that she looked perfectly ready for an evening of going out to clubs with friends, not for interviewing for this job. Furthermore, her demeanor, though not bad, was not as warm as the previous applicant's. As she talked, I thought that the other woman would make a better candidate. Then I noticed other details.

The manager's demeanor was less confident in this interview. He stumbled on his words, used "like" and "um" a lot and talked about his own interests in relationship to the applicant's. He learned she wanted to be a fashion designer, for instance, and then related how even though she couldn't tell since he was dressed for work, that fashion was an important part of his life. The applicant related that she'd worked at a popular chain coffee shop before and that she knows one of the other managers at this restaurant. The interviewing manager said he was surprised the other manager hadn't mention the applicant.

He ended the interview by explaining the process just as he had with the other woman. However, he told this woman he wanted to bring her in for a second interview and that he had just one slot open a few days later. She accepted the time slot.

I couldn't read the two applications. So maybe my assessment isn't fair. However, based on the interviews alone, I am appalled. To my eyes and ears, it is clear that this man made the decision based on what he saw. And I'm not entirely convinced race isn't a factor here. He was white. The first woman was black and the second woman was white. I wanted to scream at him. And even now I don't know what to do other than write this blog. Perhaps I'll invite the restaurant to read this, too.

What do you think?

Indiana Humanities Council and The Human Condition

noreply@blogger.com (Nila) — Mon, 14 Sep 2009 21:17:00 +0000

I picked the name for this blog, The Human Condition, because it sums up what seems to make my mind twist and turn the most – the observation and understanding of people as individuals and within the systems of their families, work, communities and cultures; the influence of behaviors and beliefs of those individuals and communities; and how psychology, cultural anthropology, philosophy, religion, and the arts intertwine with and become a lens for human existence. Mouthful, huh? But seriously, that's what makes me happy, happy, happy.

On Twitter today, I discovered @INHumanities. The account profile says, "Connects people, opens minds and enriches lives by creating and facilitating programs that encourage people to read, think and talk." Well, now, how do I sign up to be a part of that? So I clicked through to the website for The Indiana Humanities Council. You know, I'd heard the name before but hadn't given it too much thought.

There it was on their about page, not once, but twice the term the human condition. Specifically I saw it in the mission: "The Indiana Humanities Council celebrates, encourages and facilitates the thinking that leads to innovation and action. As a convener, leader and partner, the Council supports the sharing of ideas, promotes the public humanities and engages Indiana’s community of minds to examine and improve the human condition."

I saw my blog's title again later in the page under the heading "What are 'the humanities?'": "Often grouped as the fields of history, literature, philosophy and other related disciplines, 'the humanities' are not a thing, but a process for pursuing truths about the shared human condition. They inspire, engage and enrich us, allowing us to remember our past, envision our future and consider ourselves as individuals and as members of communities. In essence, the humanities are the study of, participation in and sharing of the things humans make and the things that make us human."

Very cool.

Reading a bit more, I learned that someone I saw in passing earlier today is the president and CEO of the Indiana Humanities Council.

Hmm...seems I should be investigating this organization and how I might be involved.

Sometimes I can be a little slow. I'm embarrassed to be just now coming up to speed on this one.

Just Plain Stupid Fun

noreply@blogger.com (Nila) — Tue, 01 Sep 2009 12:44:00 +0000

Can you imagine how this would feel?

Why is this in my blog? Because it shows how much fun humans have when they employ creativity and intelligence (some may debate this point). Enjoy!

Entrepreneurs Can Change The World

noreply@blogger.com (Nila) — Sun, 30 Aug 2009 19:01:00 +0000

A few days ago I saw this video for the first time. Masterfully created, the pacing, music and graphics come together in just a few emotional minutes that leave me feeling alive, inspired, empowered.

Of course this is part of a viral marketing campaign, but honestly, I could care less. If they are being authentic about their brand and are using their business as a way to promote positive growth and a renewed human spirit in business and the world, then I'm willing to participate in spreading the word about them. Please take time to visit Grasshopper to about their service small businesses. You can also follow them on Twitter.

Trust, Revisited

noreply@blogger.com (Nila) — Mon, 17 Aug 2009 18:16:00 +0000

Over the last month and even as I type, I've been dealing with an issue of broken trust. Working through this incident (series of incidents, really) has brought me face to face with my own trust issues again. This time I am able to see that I betrayed my own heart and soul in my haste to give trust to someone else. I'm apparently bound to repeat this lesson until I learn that I'm fully equipped to act in my own best interests without bringing to truth whatever fear is lurking in the dark parts of me.

Here's the other thing I've realized. I cannot put the full burden of responsibility to repair the broken trust on the other person. Whether with family, friends, or business relationships, it appears the journey starts with trusting oneself. Maybe I need to decide if there would be benefit in continuing the relationship. And then if there is, be clear on what boundaries we'll have and what actions I will and won't tolerate - both my own and theirs.

By the way, I won't go into the background story about the incident that has prompted this post. I'm not in to the eye-for-an-eye thing. It's just not necessary.

How's it Lookin'?

noreply@blogger.com (Nila) — Fri, 14 Aug 2009 19:26:00 +0000

I received an email from an accounting firm today with a row of portraits of women who work there. I found it difficult to imagine myself in one of those photos, starched collar perfectly placed atop my conservative blazer's lapels, carefully calculated and straightened hair only slightly ruffled from my walk to the photography studio, earrings that dare not venture near my chin line.

While I wouldn't call myself wild, I definitely march to the to beat of a slightly different drummer. As a brand strategist working in the marketing world, I can get away with that. Yet if I were a CPA or an attorney, I wonder, would clients take me seriously?

We do judge books by their covers. When we meet a professional for the first time, I suspect our brains search for what a CPA, an attorney or a corporate CEO should look like and pass our judgment before we consider her intelligence, skills and experience. It's a game we all play, I suppose. Sadly, the less-than-adept-at-fashion probably lose that game more than they deserve.

As competition for work becomes more heated, every little bit of our personal brand is a factor. That may bite, but perhaps now is a good time to review your personal brand strategy and check all branding, including personal packaging. Make sure that what you see in the mirror matches what you're saying on your resume or in your marketing messages.

Hmm. I think I'll call my hair stylist.

Image courtesy of iStockphoto.

Will You Meet Me in the Field?

noreply@blogger.com (Nila) — Wed, 29 Jul 2009 13:01:00 +0000

"Out beyond ideas of right doing and wrong doing there is a field. I'll meet you there."

Hung on the wall in my home library, this first line from a 13th century poem by Rumi has quietly inspired me with its sheer beauty and only recently has taken on a new life for me. It's hard to explain how this has come about and what that new life feels like. It's part having met with inspiring people, part meditation, part simply the journey I am on. What really matters is that I've had an overwhelming feeling about the importance of humanity and, on an individual level, our ability to see what we have in common with other people rather than what makes us different. At a core level that commonality is simply our humanity.

I've noticed the language of our culture has become increasingly divisive. (Or perhaps I've only become more aware?) People despise others based only on differences and how those differences make enemies.

I believe that if you put away those differences and look into the eyes and heart of your fellow human being, you'll find much in common to celebrate. You'll find love and compassion. That seems like a pretty good platform for dialog and peace.

The whole poem (interpreted into English) says:

Out beyond ideas of right doing and wrong doing,
there is a field. I'll meet you there.
When the soul lies down in that grass,
the world is too full to talk about.
Ideas, language, even the phrase each other
doesn't make any sense.

(from Essential Rumi by Coleman Barks)

My Heart Belongs to Indianapolis

noreply@blogger.com (Nila) — Tue, 14 Jul 2009 12:50:00 +0000

I've spent many years convinced that I belong somewhere else, geographically speaking. I imagine myself living in places that I've visited and many I haven't. Vermont, Maine, Chicago, Portland (OR), Sedona, Flagstaff, Big Sur, and so on. I can't quite say why I've felt driven to leave Indianapolis. Sometimes it's that the state feels pretty conservative. Other times it's that we don't have the right energy or enough culture.

Recently my family and I made a 10 state drive to Maine, with a stop in NYC on the way out and coming back through Vermont, upstate New York and Niagara Falls. I loved my walk in Central Park. Maine and Vermont are beautiful. Niagara Falls is spectacular. I've been on a lot of plane trips and road trips. When I head home, I'm always looking forward to sleeping in my own bed and seeing whatever family I left behind. But I'm never all that excited about Indianapolis itself.

This time, something different happened. As we crossed from Ohio into Indiana, the word home drifted happily through my mind. And it was home in the big sense, not the house where I live sense. Home this time meant a feeling that I belong in this place. Passing through downtown Indianapolis, I was irresistibly drawn to the skyline, imagining what was happening on Massachusetts Avenue or on The Circle. I felt love for my city. My home.

The next morning, I took my daughter for brunch in Broad Ripple before a stop for groceries and the kennel to pick up the dog. Petite Chou, where we sat outside on a beautiful July morning, was its always wonderful yumminess. At Fresh Market, a woman from the floral department walked up to my daughter with a pretty pink rose in her hand and said, "Madame, a rose for you?" And, the people taking care of Daphne at Good Dog Hotel were delightful. In a very short period of time, I was given plenty of evidence that Indianapolis has much to offer.

There are plenty of bright, creative people right here to provide my need for connection and intellectual conversation. The arts community is vibrant. We have richness and diversity. Culture is there. (You just have to look outside the chain restaurant and mall zones.) Really, about everything I need is right here where I already am. What isn't, well, I can visit those other places. I guess my heart does belong to Indianapolis. (I cannot even believe I just typed that!)

Use the Proper Perspective When Judging Names

noreply@blogger.com (Nila) — Thu, 09 Jul 2009 23:41:00 +0000

When presenting name ideas, your audience of clients or colleagues are going to have their conscious, logical brains working. They'll be thinking, "do I like it?" This behavior doesn't match the actual experience prospects, customers, investors, employees, donors, users (and so on) will have.

Only people in the branding and marketing industry spend much time picking apart the pros and cons of a name, unless the name is truly bad. Then you might find Joe Consumer having a little sarcasm party. But if your name fits your brand, the average prospect doesn't spend a millisecond on logical critique.

The reality is that people experience names on a subconscious, emotional level. Let's say your elevator speech goes something like, "Hi, I'm Bob Smith, a search engine consultant with Gazillions. I help people navigate the web when they're in search of the right kind of information." The listener isn't thinking "Do I like that name? Does it makes sense? Does everyone love that name? Does that name tell the whole story of this company." No, the listener is processing all of what you've told him (and probably scanning you for clues that he can trust you all while running through a list of 20 things he needs to do later that day.) Your business or product name is just one tiny bit of information. When the brain catches it, it goes to work scanning internal files for what the name might be like (or different) and the associated emotions. The brain might register quick hits like, "Gazillions. That's a lot. Sounds kind of fun. Not ordinary. Maybe risky. Must listen more."

I'm by no means saying the name isn't important. In fact, I believe it is a critical part of your brand signaling system. The name sets a tone or provides information or both. Like a logo or any number of other touch points, a name is an entry point to the images and feelings people will form around you, your company, your products and services.

My point is really about the artificial environment of the creative review. Whether you are doing it yourself, working with a consultancy or are a consultant, you must frame your feedback from the perspective of the message receiver. I'm assuming, of course, that you've also evaluated the ideas to make sure they match the thorough brand strategy you've written. The one driven by your brand essence.

Lesson here: When judging name ideas, remember the reality of the actual future experience, not the pseudo-experience of creative presentations.

Now please, go out and make a great name for yourself.

Some Brands are Just a Blur

noreply@blogger.com (Nila) — Mon, 22 Jun 2009 19:52:00 +0000

What’s the difference between Petco and PetSmart? As far as I’m concerned, these two retailers are guilty of a little thing I like to call “brand blur.” If you stripped the name off of both retailers and walked both stores, I think you’d find little difference. The color schemes are the same. The stores feel the same. Unless I’m missing something, they carry essentially the same product mix. Maybe PetCo has saltwater fish and PetSmart doesn’t. So what?

Brand blur is the resulting effect when the developers of a brand go out to the market and ask “whatdya want?” When you do that, you’re getting the exact same information that the competitors get. So you and the competition both end up with the same approach. To add insult to injury, the research is typically flawed because all it gets at is surface logic. The good, deep, meaty emotional stuff is nowhere to be found in average research. Furthermore, this approach of only asking the prospects and customers what they think neglects to honor the vision and authentic essence of the company that can add a strong competitive advantage.

Another category where I see brand blur is office supply stores. Tell me, do you really see a difference between Office Depot, OfficeMax and Staples? If I separate any of them at any level, it might be Staples. Honestly, I think I’ve been sucked in by their advertising which I feel successfully uses humor to connect with me personally. Yet, inside the store, I feel the same old, same old. And again, these competitors are essentially the same right down to the color palette they use.

In both cases - the pet stores and the office supply stores - as the consumer, I’m reduced to deciding the difference based on location or worse yet, price. As a brand strategist, it makes me a little sad for the brands.

Where do you see brand blur?

Sometimes Relationship is All You Need

noreply@blogger.com (Nila) — Thu, 11 Jun 2009 19:57:00 +0000

I just got home from an impromptu TweetUp. Sounds pretty geeky, huh? A TweetUp is a gathering of Twitter users - and at this particular gathering, few of the participants were geeky. Not that there's anything wrong with that. All, however, were kind and generous people whom, for their own reasons, were seeking more (or perhaps a different) connection than what is possible in random 140 character posts.

I'm sure there are people who'd ask me why in the world I'd spend my time going to these things. "What's the business purpose?" "What kind of return do you get out of the time?" "Are any of those people prospects?" You may have your own version of these questions. For me it all comes down to the same simple concept: relationship. That's the purpose. That's what I get. Is it intangible? Yes. And that's okay.

With networking, social media in particular and Twitter even more finely, I see people who have a certain spark. People with ideas, important thoughts, common and uncommon experiences. People I can learn from. Be inspired by. People I can give to. People whose energy is just nice to be in.

We've become a measurement obsessed culture. "Measure what matters." "You can't manage what you can't measure." We want our measurements in numbers, too. Typically we pick measures that we want to go up. As if bigger and more are the only things that matter. We seem to believe that quantity is the only way to measure success. And sometimes we measure activities as if the measures in themselves indicate results. We spend vast amounts of time and money measuring education with standardized tests. We draw seemingly arbitrary numerical lines in the sand to measure the worth of an individual's productivity.

But what about quality? What about checking in with our guts and how we feel about things? What about the intangible measures of satisfaction, happiness, and love? Sure those are pretty hard to measure, if truly possible at all. That might be scary for some. I feel sad for those who can't understand the intangible.

Maybe we all need to take a step back and detach from the numbers from time to time. Maybe we need to be okay that someday all the dots will connect and there will be results from what we've done.

I submit that the hard facts of logic and the softer side of emotions both belong in business. And being able to simply say, "I enjoyed creating and cultivating relationships today," is measurement enough for an afternoon in a cafe.

Not All Old Guys are Praying

noreply@blogger.com (Nila) — Tue, 09 Jun 2009 13:23:00 +0000

Without fail, every time I go to Panera before 11:00 am, there is a group of 60, 70, or 80-something men sitting around a table chatting about life. Judging by their Bibles, prayer and bits and pieces of conversation I overhear, they are nearly always "Christian men's groups." After experiencing a few such groups, I've been conditioned to tune them out. Don't get me wrong. It's nice. And I admire their faith. After a few such encounters, I've learned what I can about that slice of the human experience and I'm ready to move on. In other words, it's just not that interesting of an eavesdropping* experience anymore.

This morning men's group has turned my world upside down. The group of 60-something men du jour are apparently bound by sarcasm, cynicism, iPhones and hearty laughter.

I've heard them discuss the iPhone news from yesterday's WWDC (Apple's worldwide developers conference). "Yeah...video...faster...happened to me the last time...I got mine just before they released the 3G."

Then there was the outburst, "Miley Cyrus!" followed up by the story of one of the men toying with his granddaughter. He said she listens to "rap crap" that he can't stand and that his granddaughter gives him a hard time about being so old. One day he was talking with her on the phone and said, "tell you what, you put on the most awful, obscure rap song you can think of and I'll tell you what it is." So, when she started the song, he put his Shazam loaded iPhone up to the receiver, got the result and announced it to the amazement of his granddaughter who was apparently none the wiser to his scam.

One said to another, "yeah, I looked at your house from above." The other made a rude gesture and said, "did you see this?" Laughter.

Then they moved on to comparing Lexus models. And now they are discussing sewer systems. My interest is waning.

I wonder if they have any idea they're crushing not only the paradigm that "old people are not technologically proficient" but also my assumption that every group of men in a Panera is holding a prayer group meeting. I love a good challenge.

*By the way, I don't intentionally eavesdrop. I have not yet learned to tune out unique sensory input. Put another way, I have attention issues.

A New Chapter

noreply@blogger.com (Nila) — Thu, 04 Jun 2009 01:03:00 +0000

Economic conditions are the worst they've been in my adult life. So, I quit my well-paying job at a good firm. Why? I listened to myself instead of the collective fear in the news and on the lips of well-meaning people.

I can't explain it in a way that will make sense to everyone. If you feel it, you know what I'm talking about. This is the right move for me. One explanation might be that I've reached the point where it is harder on my ego to work in a business that I once owned than it is to leave. But it really is far more complicated than that. My decision involves personal challenge and need for a different kind of growth in my career and life.

You might say I'm reinventing myself. Or maybe it's that I'm fine-tuning. I've been introspective enough to understand (some of) my strengths. I'm an empathetic listener. I have a certain sense of intuitive insight. I'm resourceful. I have a great thirst for knowledge and a love of learning. I have a habit of seeing connections – some obvious, some not so obvious – that lead to ideas. I'm completely fascinated by symbolism, language, human behavior, culture and creativity.

I use those characteristics to help people and the organizations they lead hone in on who they are and what they stand for. I help them grasp their uniqueness and harness it in visuals, words and actions that connect them with the right people. I help clarify issues, values and identity. In the parlance of business, I offer strategic brand development.

For those who need to know, yes, there's something tangible at the end of the process. What that is depends on what is needed. It could be a strategic plan. Or a tactical plan. Or a logo. Or website, brochure, or sales kit. Or all of the above. What matters to me is that an organization - whether an individual or microbusiness, employer of dozens or massive corporate concern, for-profit or not-for-profit - find the groove that enables them to ethically and honestly move toward their goals and serve their world and the people whose lives they touch.

This past Friday was my last day as an employee at Element Three. The three and half year transition was a rewarding one. I met great people and learned even more about brand, marketing, myself and business. I'll miss the work. I'll miss my office space. Mostly I'll miss the people. They've become family. I know the business is in very good hands. And I'm excited to see what the team at Element Three will do in the months and years to come. They're good people and the vision is strong. I'll continue to serve Element Three as needed. We'll collaborate on projects. They'll help me on my projects.

Now I turn the page to a new chapter in my life. I'm still writing this book and like any good author, I'm open to new material. If you'd like to chat over a cup of tea (or coffee if that's your thing) give me a call, shoot me an email, or DM me on Twitter. I'd like to hear what you have to say.

Thanks for indulging me in my story.

(For a nice discussion on the use of "hone in" vs. "home in," see the Business Writing Blog.)

A Little Decency, Please!

noreply@blogger.com (Nila) — Fri, 08 May 2009 00:02:00 +0000

Have you heard about the "Families for ED Advertising Decency Act?" It's a bi-partisan bill introduced on April 29 in the House of Representatives. The proposed bill would "prohibit as indecent the broadcasting of any advertisement for a medication for the treatment of erectile dysfunction, and for other purposes." Yeah, that's broad language and honestly I haven't read the whole thing. I believe the bill proposes the advertising be allowed only after 10pm and before 6am. It seems it is really about the explicit language. Regardless, the general concept has my attention.

I'm typically a free speech, turn-the-channel, anti-censorship kind of gal. As a parent, however, I'd love to see something done about these ads that repeatedly talk about seeing a doctor if you have an erection that lasts longer than 4 hours or to talk to your doctor to see if you're healthy enough for sex. Come on people! It's Sunday afternoon and my kids are watching sports with their Dad! Do they really have to see and hear this stuff? Could we have some subtlety please?

It isn't just the ED drug adverts. Some of the movie and television show previews themselves are over the top in sex, violence and just plain scary stuff. I’d like our kids to be able to watch a football game without being bombarded by disturbing previews. (It's bad enough that fast food restaurants and nutritionally deficient sugar bombs are being pushed.) Really. I have found myself disappointed in what squeaks by in the prime hours. Heck, we can barely watch television as a family because there isn’t programming we adults like that is appropriate for our children. And I’m not just talking HBO (which I love). I won't let them watch The Office, Family Guy, or My Name is Earl, which are family hour programs, because of the overt sexual references. At 11 and 9, my kids are just too young to understand the humor, to separate loving partnerships from elicit sex.

Sound like a prude, don't I. I'm really not. I don't shelter my kids to the point that they don't know about terrorist attacks and wars and politics. In fact, we talk about those things at their level so they can have some sense of understanding and security. Honestly, I just want my kids to have as much opportunity as possible to retain some innocence at an age when it is appropriate. I suppose the answer is to get rid of the television. I just don't want to go to that extreme just because the adults doing the advertising and programming decision-making can't control themselves.

Maybe this particular bill isn't the answer. Maybe there is a non-lawmaking way this can be resolved. Maybe big pharma will do the right thing. Maybe.

By the way, in the interest of equal time, I'm not all that crazy about feminine product ads that leave little to the imagination either.

My Mother's Gift

noreply@blogger.com (Nila) — Mon, 27 Apr 2009 21:32:00 +0000

"Melancholy. Remembering. It was 11 years ago this very night. I still miss her. Love you, Mom."

That's what I just posted as my Facebook status. I'm thinking, "what an odd thing to share with 150 people, some of whom have little close contact with me." Yet, that's how I feel. It's who I am. And the part of me that used to be afraid for people to know who I really am is overtaking the fearful part. Just a little bit. Every day.

I was standing at the stove making dinner – a pot of goulash, one of Mom's specialties. I was feeling grateful that this dish that is allowed in the restrictive new diet I am living with. That led me to contemplate the odd concept that this insulin resistance is part curse, part gift from my mother.

Mother.

That's when it hit me like a ton of bricks.

I felt the ghosts of the emotions I felt 11 years ago tonight. I was making dinner that Monday evening when I picked up the ringing phone to my sister's sobs. She said, "Nila. It's Maria. Mom's down. They've taken her to the hospital. I'm on my way there." I just said, "I'll be there as soon as possible." I hung up the phone and fell to my knees wailing. I knew the moment had come. The moment I dreaded. I'd lost my mother.

Steve and I packed up our infant son and drove the 45 minutes northeast to St. John's Hospital in Anderson, Indiana. I remember walking through the sterile emergency waiting room, through the powered doors, making a right into one of the trauma rooms. The room seemed impossibly enormous. I only remember the walls, my father leaning against one, my sister against another. And, as if on an alter, I saw my mother on the bed, lifeless and cool. I smiled, put my hand on her and kissed her cheek. In that moment I felt her all around me, but not in that body. I was in her grace. And a rush of strength entered me.

The following week was a whirlwind. We made funeral arrangments, greeted many faces. And Mom was cremated on my father's birthday, that Saturday, May 2nd. I've always felt a certain sadness for my father that this act had to be on that day. They'd been married just shy of 50 years.

I've comtemplated that day a lot lately. Recently I was diagnosed with insulin resistance, a precursor to diabetes, the disease that ultimately took my mother's life far too soon. I remember my mother's unspoken desire to have done more in her life, regrets over decisions she had made. As I consider similar thoughts in my own life, I am given the choice to follow the same path or to learn from my mother's journey, to fight for my health and my life and to make decisions that may be unpopular and painful for others, yet ultimately true to my own soul and better for all.

To my father, my brother and my sisters, my husband and my children: I love you dearly even though I might not say it enough.

Digital Technology Serves Humanity

noreply@blogger.com (Nila) — Sun, 26 Apr 2009 16:19:00 +0000

I believe that oftentimes in our culture we forget what is the master and the servant. Take technology for example. My 11-year old son recently reminded me that technology is any material or tool that helps you get something done, even if that is a rock and a stick (images of MacGyver dance in my head). That's right, even the simple things we easily view as tools (our servants) are technology. Even paper and a pencil. What a great reminder that this thing I'm sitting front of isn't the center of my universe and it doesn't rule me.

My MacBook Pro, as beautiful as it is, is only a tool to help me get things done, like right blogs, plan schedules, think in fast mind maps, communicate, create presentations and so on. And we have to work this digital technology in with our own personal preferences and styles. I, for instance, would love to keep a calendar via the computer somehow. Yet, even with my iPhone, a Me.com account, and all the synchronization that is offered to me, I still find that a paper calendar works best. For me. I need the sensation of writing with a pencil. And I need about an 8.5 x 11 landscape format with the week laid out as days in columns, side-by-side. Anything different and I miss appointments and feel an odd sense of disconnectedness from my schedule.

You see, just because the digital technology is available doesn't mean you must use it. It's a tool, after all. And I'm the master of my life and the information that I need and want to move through it.

Bonus round: One of my favorite quotes perfectly embodies another area that I believe our culture has a tough time keeping straight in terms of what serves what...

"The intuitive mind is a sacred gift and the rational mind its faithful servant. We have created a society that honors the servant and has forgotten the gift." Albert Einstein

Bronze Age spearhead photo by Wessex Archaeology. License: Creative Commons-Noncommercial-Share Alike.