Humpday Quickie: Lessons of the Lake ... Grasshopper!

Today, five Yanks piled into Mrs. Gardner's car and drove up north to celebrate Canada Day with an open water swim race in Noonchuk Lake.* Karin, Bob, Liz, Jeanne and me. Most of us swam the 4k, which was two circles around a clear, smooth lake surrounded by green-green trees on a perfect blue day.

A few lessons:

1. Being in good pool-swimming shape does not translate to open water performance. To race lake, swim lake.

2. I don't really like swimming in circles. Especially two. Nothing beats a point-to-point.

3. The age-group blue ribbon does help a bit.

4. Canada has the best candy. Nice people, too.

5. I have some fun-ass friends.

Happy Canada Day to our Northern Neighbors, eh!

* The lake is called Sasamat Lake but was rebaptized due to my poor memory.

What Happened When I Didn't Answer It

So I took my my own suggestion from Friday's post and didn't answer a question.

It gave me such an unexpected lift. And it was so insignificant but I'm going to tell you about it anyway, just to inspire more Non-Answering of the Uninspiring Question.

Quick ass coverage: I do not promote being a withholding asshole. My aim is to promote more  Honest Not-Answering the Question Acts when just the idea of answering the question makes you feel bad. I am trying to make a universal deal among all of us that it's OK to not answer any question we don't want to, the same way we may not want to eat the brussel spouts. And you know I'm not talking about job interviews and other job-related scenarios, however it would be funny, huh?

So here's the skinny. It was Monday afternoon. I was at the dentist, anxious and cranky. The dental hygenist, who I've been seeing  for many years asked me the innocuous Question I Don't Want to Answer these days:

"So. What have you been up to?"

I knew it was coming but I hadn't planned anything.

 "Ooooohh, I don't really know how to answer that right now." Pause. Nervous laughter. "What about you, what have you been up to?"

And the conversation rambled on. Simple. The weird thing was this: I felt so good not answering the goddamn question -- and to have given myself an opt out plan while being nice about it. As a matter of fact, I found myself instantly cheerier. And in the middle of my teeth cleaning, for once it didn't hurt like a mo-fo and I became almost ecstatically happy, especially when I realized there was a Starbucks and a Pasta & Co. just down the street and I could kill two birds with one stone. Well. For a few moments, I thought I was on drugs or somthing.

I swear the mood roar of positivity came from not answering the question. And staying open at the same time, too.

Easy. Nice. Happifying

Now, your turn. Please share tales of Not Answering the Question. And have fun.

An Interesting Piece on Michael Jackson

It's a poem, actually. Thanks to Marilyn Taylor for sending it through.

Never Land

  I don't wish you were one

                         of The Jackson Five

            tonight, only you were

still inside yourself

                          unchanged by the vampire

            moonlight. So eager to

play The Other,

                          did you forget

            Dracula was singled out

because of his dark hair

                          & olive skin? After

            you became your cover,

tabloid headlines

                          grafted your name

            to a blond boy's.

The personals bled

                          through newsprint,

            across your face. Victor

Frankenstein knew we must

                          love our inventions. Now,

            maybe skin will start to grow

over the lies & subtract

                          everything that under-

            mines nose & cheekbone.

You could tell us if

                          loneliness is what

            makes the sparrow sing.

Michael, don't care

                          what the makeup

            artist says, you know

your sperm will never

                          reproduce that face

            in the oval mirror.

--Yusef Komunyakaa. Pleasure Dome: New & Selected Poems. Wesleyan UP, 2001.Y

Weekend Quickie: Don't Answer It

Sometimes I don't want to answer the question.

Simple ones, like: "What's new?"

Or the deeper button-pushing ones I've had over the years:

"Are you still unemployed?"

"Are you seeing anyone?"

"How are your finances?"

And then it finally hit me. I don't have to answer every question I get asked.

Imagine responding to someone's uninviting question with a big warm smile and saying, "I don't feel like answering that right now. May I have another?"

A Modest Proposal: Screw the Elevator Pitch!

What's your elevator pitch?

Yeah yeah, we know already. It's that ten-word summation of Who You Are and What You Do and What Makes You So Amazingly In-Demand that any smart savvy successful professional or entrepreneur has got to nail.

Well screw that, I say. And here's why. And I do have an alternate solution.

First off, I do understand the value of  being able to articulate who you are and what you do in a short pithy statement. I see how it's especially anchoring for the individual saying it.

But here's my objection -- and I say this as someone who has struggled with my e-pitch in the past and has finally decided to do it my way in this phase of my biz development.

Change Starts Here Get us out of the elevator!

For starters, I hate being in an elevator. Don't you? I don't care for talking in an elevator and the idea of having to have an "elevator pitch" in which I sell myself to someone on the other side of fast-closing doors puts me in a state of anxiety. And who needs that for chrissakes. Plus, it's de-humanizing, and this is a kind, generous humanizing phase of business we're entering.

Also, I'm not in an elevator very often. And I've never ever gotten a job in an elevator. And people in elevators are usually too busy ignoring each other to care what anyone does.  

So screw the elevator.  Or, in the line from Diva which I actually blogged about earlier, "Je n'aime pas l'ascenseur." And double-screw the pitch. Why can't we just be ourselves instead of being in a desperate state of selling ourselves. How about a short-short story rather than a pithy bullshit pitch?

What's Your Party Line? So I decided to move away from the elevator and into a party setting. And when I say Party, I'm talking about the places that are comfortable for you, where you actually enjoy going and talking with people: a party, a dinner or any social gathering. In my case it would be places like the swimming pool or out on a trail run, in a cafe, aka my satellite office.

Why Not Give Yourself More Time to Talk About Yourself? I don't know why any of us has to say what we do in five seconds and less. Who made this rule up?

I know this is good for networking events where people hand out their biz cards like they're speed dating. Or if you need to get the question answered asap. But not all of us spend a lot of time at networking events. And even if you do, if someone can't give you a minute to listen to who you are and what you do, well -- maybe it's time to move on and find the person who does.

Another adendum: My Party Line gets to change. Because my moods change and even though what I do (writing, coaching, editing, consulting, figuring-out-what-the-hell-I'm doing) remains the same, the area I am focused on changes.

So part of the dynamic of my Party Line is that it gets to change. Especially depending on who asks.

So, here's my Modest Party Line Proposal in a nutshell:

Get off the elevator and into a natural setting, call it a party, and talk about what you do in the language and pacing that works for you. Among people you are inspired by (and it's mutual) and who you'd  be interested in getting to know better or work with or network with.

Party Lines in Motion

Try on various Party Lines while you're forming Who You Are or What You Do. Not everything has to get hammered out in a business plan or a journal. For example, my answer can range from "I'm a writer and coach" to "I'm in transition right now" to ignoring the question, depending on my mood and the asker.

Admittedly, sometimes it does help to have an answer when people ask the casual but sometimes dreaded "What are you up to?"

Which brings me to a future post -- giving yourself permission not to answer the question.

In closing: I am not sold on the term "Party Line" -- but you get where I'm going with this here. If you have any better idea of how to rephrase the elevator pitch and put it in a more relaxed, inspiring setting, drop it in comments.

So. What's your cool-ass party line?

To Sleep, Perchance to Get a Sh*tload of Rest

I'd like to propose a little mid-life sleep appreciation.

Even as adults, there are some times in our lives when we just need extra sleep and rest.

Call these times what you will: transitions, periods of learning, thresholds, learning something new.

OK, so there's my theme. Learning and periods of change. But have you ever noticed how the learning and change process can really zap you?

By learning and change I mean: going back to school; intensively learning a new craft or art or professional skill. Or learning how to do something new in your daily life, like raise a child (I know, nobody gets the sleep they need here) or how to manage a team at work, or how to swim 20 length of the pool without stopping. Or getting your ass kicked going through one of life's lovely rough spots -- change, growth, etc.

So. In my twenties I lived in NYC and could be a bit of a tough bitch. I used to say "sleep was for babies." Now I am that baby. And right now my baby self is learning a bunch of new stuff (coaching, starting a business) and there's  only one way for me to metabolize it all and deal. Sleep a bit more than usual.

I tried to fight it for a while but last week I just gave in. It feels pretty good too.

What's more rest than ususal? For starters, sleeping in. Getting up at 6:30 or 7am isntead of  5-stinkin'-thirty to swim every morning (sometimes a girl just needs a break).  A nap on weekends. And some other random rest times that I'll keep to myself. Yes, last week I gave in and felt like a total rack monster. But Monday morning I woke up with a smile on my face because I was so well rested. Often, when my alarm goes off in the 5's, the first word that comes to me is a swear word.

Even so. Do I feel a bit like a good-for-nothing lazy person who may be covering up a case of the blahs or melancholy or just plain avoidance? Hell yeah! But when I asked myself if it could be something else -- that my body is really screaming out for extra rest to recoup, well -- that sounded like the real reason. The healthy reason. (Screw you, puritanical work ethic!)

This is just to say: Sometimes we just need a bit more sleep, rest and recoup time. If you're the type of person that pushes yourself through these phases with doubt and suspicion about the need to sleep, here' s a question for you:

What might life feel like if you treated yourself (and your family members) to some extra rest and recovery time -- every once in a while?

It may come back to save you.

Happy sleeping!

Friday Quickie: Are you "Spent" or "Full?"

"Ohmygod it's Friday and I'm soooo spent."

Does this sound like a familiar Friday refrain? Today I wondered what it might be like to arrive at Friday and be full of energy. If it's happened in the past I can't remember.

So as I entered Friday feeling the fatigue and dreaming of a Friday night at home I decided to reframe. What if I changed the statement to:

"It's Friday and Jesus Christ I'm so full."

What if the feeling I have of general tiredness is my body saying: Sit me down and take notice of some of the highlights this week.

As I was having this conversation on the way to my local cafe, I took my coffee and sat in an oversized chair and let the week's events sink in and marinate.

It took me 15 minutes. And I got to see -- no, feel -- some of the significant passages that happened over the last seven days. If you were at the Madison Park Starbucks this morning and saw a woman all teary-eyed on a velvet seat, that may have been me.

It was trippy. And cool. I recomment trying  it sometime. Imagine if you arrived at Friday and were so full you could barely stand up. And you had to sit sat down and take it all in.

Then what?