“Waiting for the Smiths”

♦ December 17, 2010 ♦ 4 Comments

You know that old expression, “Keeping Up with the Joneses”? Meaning the incessant need to have just a little bit more than those around you, and doing whatever it takes to obtain same, in order to save face? (In other words, a materialistic crock of shit life philosophy.) For the sake of the expression, “Jones” being a common enough name to stand for just about anybody with whom you see yourself (or your family) in competition.

It probably won’t surprise you to learn that I have never given a damn what the Joneses think. Nor have I tried to keep up with them. Even if I had all the resources in the world I wouldn’t go out of my way to use them to make sure Mr. Jones didn’t get too far ahead of me.

So I have not very often been guilty of that one.

But I must plead guilty to another concept. One that isn’t quite the opposite of “Keeping of with the Joneses”, but similar enough in method that I have dubbed it, “Waiting for the Smiths“.

In this case, “The Smiths” are the term I use to stand in for any group of friends, or potential group of friends.

I believe that everyone is entitled to a certain demographic of friends. Not only entitled. We require certain types of people to be in our life in order to obtain any degree of fulfillment and contentment. All of us need at least some good friends that share our spiritual views. Our politics. Our own set of social graces and norms. Nobody wants to, nor should they, spend their whole life around people in whom they do not feel comfortable confiding due to large differences in core beliefs and perceptions.

Yet in accepting that truth, I ask two questions:

1) How many potential friends are going to posses all such qualities in similar quantities to our own?

2) Can people with sometimes daunting variance in fundamental beliefs still provide each other with significant spiritual and emotional support?

My answer to the first question is not zero. But without doubts, the number is quite small over a lifetime. For most people, I dare say three or four at most, one of whom is almost certainly a spouse or future spouse.

The second question I answer with, “perhaps”.

However not too many years ago I would have answered that question with, “no”. I was convinced, (and to be honest part of me still feels this way) that a person in trouble or despair can never open up to, be honest with or supported by anyone with whom they didn’t share very specific characteristics. Such people are fine for recreation. Or conversation. Some beer here and there. But no real connection at the deepest part of our humanity can truly occur.

In some circumstances, I am right. It can’t be done, and it is foolish to think so. But I realize now that maybe it is foolish to wait until the ideal friends show up in our lives before we are open up about our deepest selves. Honest. Vulnerable. If we wait for a group of people that make us feel 100% comfortable with sharing everything all of the time without any bit of fear or awkwardness, we may wait a very long time. A long time during which we have kept certain parts of ourselves hidden. And that may lead to more unhappiness.

This, my readers, if what I have dubbed “Waiting for the Smiths”. The Smiths being, of course, those people with whom we have instant rapport, congruence at the deepest parts of all factions of our soul, and the ability to have fun to boot. As I said, there is a “Smith” out there for just about everyone. But maybe we shouldn’t wait for them to show up before we open up.

Another way to “Wait for the Smiths” is to hope that friends we already have, people who are lacking in some quality we require, will some day obtain that quality. Or worse than that, people we think we can change.

Don’t misunderstand me. We must still exercise discretion. Every single friend of ours does not need to know everything. Some of them shouldn’t know everything because indeed we all have certain friends that we want to remain in the “have fun only” category. And that is fine. In fact, it’s great. We all need those. But before you conclude that you have nobody to confide in, nobody with whom you can share your difficulties or worries, or fears, nobody that can keep you company when you need it, make sure you survey those friends you have, without holding them up to the “Smith Metric”. They won’t be able to do everything for you, but maybe they can do enough that day. Give the right friends the chance.

And who knows…perhaps people that you feel quite dissimilar to would in the end wind up being one of “The Smiths” some day.

Are you “Waiting for the Smiths” in your life?

Remember them ALL.

♦ November 11, 2010 ♦ 2 Comments

Here, on the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month, I remember the veterans.

All of the veterans.

We often think of the GI Joe, manly men, meat and potatoes, “For America, Jesus, and Apple Pie!” gung ho types on this day. Those that want to go “put a boot in their ass” and say so all of the time. The yellow ribbons, the medals of honor. The parades, and the constant “remember our troops!” bumper sticker culture we live in. The Audy Murphys.

Which is good. Those “let me at ‘em” types are worthy of praise as well. But they certainly have the market well covered. I just wanted to take some time to speak on behalf of the other types of veterans. Their stories and attitudes may not make as good a country song or as good a movie. But they are all a part of our story.

I remember the women, of course. Who are sometimes forgotten today.

I remember those who were not bred to be soldiers. The artists, actors, intellectuals. The meek and the quiet. These types have been summoned in our history as well. And they answered too. Some ended up as soldiers anyway. Others ended up in support. Drivers. Medics. Quartermasters. None of them enjoyed having to do it. All of them served. I remember the veterans that didn’t usually carry a gun.

I remember the ones that are unknown, but do not even have the fortune of having their remains guarded 24/7 at a national monument. Though whose bodies are lost at sea, never to be seen in mortal form again. Those whose families were denied a proper farewell.

But I also remember those who may have been lost to war, though not killed. Those who either disappeared forever into jungles, or perhaps into the tragedy of their own shattered minds. These types too were never heard from again.

I remember the soldiers who did not support the war they went to fight, but went because their Commander-In-Chief told them to do so, whoever he was at the time. I remember the veterans who came back from wars they didn’t like, and protested the very government that sent them into it. I remember the veterans who tossed their medals back. The ones who spoke out, and continue to speak out in loud, constant, belligerent opposition.

I remember the veterans that voted for Obama. For Kerry. For Gore.

I also remember those veterans that do not fight for God and County, but fight only for country, preferring to leave their maker out of it totally.

And I remember those that served who didn’t happen to believe that Jesus was the son of God. Those who were Hindu, Jewish, Muslim. Those who are Pagan, and those who are Wiccan. And those who choose none of the above. Those who do not believe there is a God to fight for.

And those who were black, that fought and died for this country, long before this country gave them anything worth fighting for. Long before any of them had anything to come back home to.

I remember the homosexuals that fought, bled, and died, throughout all of our wars, but had to deny what they were and who they were in order to do so.

Also I remember those veterans of the wars we hear little about anymore. World War I. The war of 1812. The Spanish/American. And all of the smaller, “secret wars” about which we are permitted to know nothing.

Of course I also remember today the veterans that died while serving, in accidents, or of disease in foreign lands. Occupational hazards, and deplorable barracks conditions. Those forgotten by their government.

And those that found themselves any given place in this country, or around the world that were lucky enough to not be injured in any way, but knew when they went that despite how calm things looked, the possibility was always there, hanging over their heads. Something might happen. “This could be the day. We could be the unit. Defense may begin right here, and now, with me.”

And of course I remember those who died in uniform when there was absolutely no indication at all that they would might be giving up their lives that day. Such as those at Fort Hood.

Finally, on this day, I remember those who prefer to remain anonymous. Who would rather go through life after their service and not speak of it. Not advertise it. Who don’t want to be a hero. Don’t want to be on television, desire no songs be written about them, and just want to go to the football game without the announcer asking the entire stadium to stand up and cheer for them. The veterans who now simply want to live their lives back home, having done what they set out to do, whenever it was.

I remember them all. I hope you do as well.

My Legacy: A Post in Cooperation with Brazen Careerist.

♦ November 6, 2010 ♦ 1 Comment

Sometimes it is extraordinarily difficult to think about one’s legacy when one lives basically hand to mouth or less, as I do. One can get swallowed up in the every day and become so pre-occupied with finding a way to keep one’s head above water that the very idea of a legacy seems not only distant, but vulgar. I find myself in this position.

But I have also found myself standing on the other side of the pendulum swing, maddening myself with thoughts of making a difference. Being remembered. Having mattered. And not having any of the resources or connections with which to make that happen, no matter how hard I try. Which in turn makes me try harder, and spin my wheels even faster, smoke, asphalt and dirt flying everywhere obscuring the view and accompanied by no real motion in any direction.

Yet even I attain balance sometimes, and can see both the challenges in the proper size, and the aspirations with a proper perspective. Time when I can evaluate the nature of what has come before me, what is around me now, and where it all might lead. And where I would like it to lead. Love it to lead. At such times I am most in tune with my truest self, and therefore most able to establish some sense of a legacy without obsession. A sense of mission without guilt. Of planning without punishment.

That may not be how most do it. But if you have read this blog anymore than, oh, twice, you know that I am not like most. I may even be unlike any but a very few. Because I have in my life, both by force, and by choice, come at life from an angle both unorthodox and unpopular. A slower course. A lesser embraced course. Not only the road not taken, but the road not mapped. There are a few grainy photographs of the road I take that have been filed away in the basement floor of the archive of life by a handful of people who have been foolish or brave enough to go this route. Those that have done so against all opposition from not just a cynical society, but from the inner critic that lives inside every marcher with his or her own drummer, no matter how confident they appear to be whilst moving confidently in the direction of their dreams.

Not all of us make it. Not all of us can keep it up. Sometimes I do not wish to. But I have. And I will as long as I am mentally healthy enough to do so. I will follow the road not mapped, and I will take some of my own pictures. But they will not be grainy shots snapped in the heat of a hurried moment. They will not be shots in the dark that only luckily capture some semblance of the lay of the land for future Too XYZers to use as a loose reference point. No, they will be crisp, clear, beautiful shots. Landscapes stretching into the horizon at dawn. Towering skyscrapers from every possible angle. Leaves of endless colors across the autumn forests and the cloud embraced, snow capped peaks of the distant behemoth mountains on the horizon.

And in all likelihood each of them will be taken from a vantage point that few others have considered. Or that have been rejected as too different, abnormal, or crazy by most others on their own journeys. I will have to take these life pictures with the camera of my heart amongst shouting and doubting. Sneers, jeers and scoffing. And worst of all, in the face of total indifference.

But I will experience those things. On this road. And take those pictures, those perfect pictures to lay out behind me, beside me, all around me, and around everyone else who wants to see them. I will, when all is said and done cut my own road towards my destination, with or without any help, capture the essence of the journey, and share it in an inspiring way, with those who want to make a similar journey but know not how to begin it.

In other words, I will find a way to get where I want to go while still being the strange me that I am. And I will leave behind something, or hopefully many somethings that are beautiful, that move people to do the same thing with their own lives, should they find themselves Too XYZ to be branded and herded by society.

That is what I want my legacy to be.

This post is part of a blog series on Brazen Careerist being sponsored by Entrustet. They asked Brazen members to answer the question:  What do you want your legacy to be? 


Tasks vs. Goals

♦ October 29, 2010 ♦ 5 Comments

Before I delve into my point, let me say that I understand the importance of having goals. 90% of blogs, TEDs (whatever they are, I’m still not sure), podcasts, and other success oriented media will mention the importance of goals.

“You can’t get anywhere until you know where you want to be. You need a focal point for your visualization.”

I get it! Thank you so much.

Yet I think this goal fetishism can sometimes throw a monkey wrench into the works of some people at certain times. I think it overlooks completely a whole different type of person, with a distinct type of wiring. And it may not surprise you to learn that, in theory, I consider myself one of these people. I call them, (for now) task oriented.

Obviously, goals and tasks are closely related, and in some ways contain aspects of one another. Finishing a task is a goal, and what is a goal but a series of tasks to be completed? But when we get into the metaphysical obsession with long or even medium term goals, things get a bit murky.

Here is a prime example.

I am a freelance writer, part time. I hope to be a full time freelance writer some day. At least that is one of my options. I won’t refuse an appealing nine to five job, but it will have to possesses certain characteristics. So I keep my eyes open. But whether it be a standard job or my freelance writing, I always hear, “what are your goals?”

Well, my goals are to be able to make most of my living as a result of writing. I’m really good at it.

“What sort of writing? For whom? How many pieces do you want to write per year? What sort of ROI do you want? Do you have a career impact statement? An elevator pitch? What platform best suits your needs and who do you want to meet in those areas? What are your goals?”

Well, my goals are to be able to make most of my living as a result of writing. I’m really good at it.

In other words, there are countless ways to make a living that I would find acceptable. Even dozens within the writing world alone. I don’t even yet know all of the ways in which I could be happy in a career. It’s easier to know what I would be unhappy doing. I do have general goals; to make a living wage as a writer. To work in the arts. To be location independent in some fashion. Yet that isn’t enough for most gurus who insist I need to have those laser focus goals, so I can accomplish exactly what I want. And so that people can help me out.

I get beaten over the head with, “define your goals, define your goals, define your goals” so often that I get numb. Numb because despite having goals,  I don’t think I work in a goal centric fashion. I don’t ever really have an answer that is acceptable to most of my contemporaries to the question, “what are your career goals?” I mean, my career goals are to make use of any number of my talents in service to things I believe in, in a place that does not make me unhappy. As a result, I get a pretty standard reply to the uncommon requests for help I get.

“I can’t help you. I don’t know what your goals are.”

Well, maybe on the level others want them, I don’t know either. There is a fine line between focused goal setting, and boxing one’s self in, and I think for people like me the line is blurrier than for most.

That doesn’t mean I lack ambition or a work ethic. Nor do I wish to just float through life, waiting for things to happen for me. I am accused of such things, but they are not true. But with so much out there that could potentially leave me satisfied, and me having been given so little chance to stretch my talents in life, I don’t see as how I could possibly have the type of specific goals that people talk about. I try to describe through this blog and other media what I can do and what I am about. And I want to find a place in this world that will allow me to engage in such thing. Such is my version of a goal setting.

But to most? This is goal setting;

“I want to use my expertise as a marketing guru and linguistics specialist to gain employment as a digitally based distance working community manager for a predominantly Jungian oriented mental health facility, geared towards troubled youth.”

And you mean to say you haven’t included in that goal statement which precise pair of underwear you will wear on the first day at said job? Where is the detail??

I just don’t think I am wired to to be that goal oriented. I don’t know at this exact minute if I want to be a content writer or a copy writer. I haven’t chosen beyond a shadow of a doubt what subject, if any, I want my writing to focus upon. I really don’t know if I have a “specialty”. I write, damn you. I am a writer. And I write damn well. And I can prove it. And if you hire me to write whatever it is you need an excellent writer for, I will adapt and apply my skills to that task.

I’m task oriented. Why does there always have to be such a far reaching, meticulously detailed goal, summed up by the god-awful elevator pitch, in order to achieve something? A great deal of achievement takes place in the midst of accomplishing a task for me, and I would much rather be given a list of ten things I have to accomplish that week, and then be allowed to engage my resourcefulness and ingenuity to get them done.

I want specific tasks to do. And I will earn your trust through doing them quickly and efficiently, before the deadline. I am less trustworthy because I do not have the very nature of what I want my life to be condensed down into a little thirty-second speech? Does the fact that I don’t lay out a specific goal for the trajectory of my next five or ten years really indicate I would not be a good employee? I fear for many, it does.

I go back to my writing. I can’t predict in what precise fashion I will be most useful, or get the most satisfaction. I know I write. Everything beyond that is what I call false gravy. It’s micromanaging the future. And while I see the benefit in doing some of it, I think I lose when I am judged, assisted, or defined based on my ability to do so. Because I really am no good at micromanaging the future. Sometimes the present is all I can handle. So I’d rather be judged for what I am trying to do now, not the fancy ways in which I describe how I’d like some theoretical future to unfold for me.

When did being goal oriented become synonymous with talent?

Clear results of predetermined tasks. That is how I like to begin. Perhaps how I need to begin. And it is tasks that I seek to clarify, not goals. I will make my own decisions, and I will certainly do the heavy lifting myself. But I, like anyone, require some help in setting course. Unlike many others though I don’t want or need help in setting goals, or developing a five year plan. I need help in pinpointing the specific tasks I need to accomplish in order to get closer to the life I want. The life I talk about and write about. The life I share with all of you. The life I hope some of you can, over time, help me realize.

Yet I am Too XYZ for goal setting with a high, lifetime arc in most cases. I just think the future is too nebulous and fluid, and my history too full of sudden changes and surprises for me to work in concrete, no matter how useful it may be to some. Instead, I’d rather define the general principles of my life, and ask people to help me determine the smaller tasks that need to be undertaken in order for me to get closer to same.

I know that sounds like “tell me what to do”. And it could be seen that way. I prefer to look at it as “show me what to do,” since the conscious choice to do it will be my own. As will all of the creativity, work, time, energy and accomplishment.

Along the way I will have a better idea perhaps of what my ultimate goal is. Maybe after being led towards certain useful tasks, I can begin to more clearly work out my goals, as so many of you define the term.  But for now, tasks take precedence over goals in my mind.

Do you ever feel swamped, or pressured, by a micro-goal oriented society?

Five Ways to Make Networking Events Introvert Friendly

♦ October 21, 2010 ♦ 9 Comments

“The world, especially business, runs on extroverts.“
Horseshit.
Oh, it’s easy to assume that it does, because by their very nature extroverts make the most noise, and work twice as hard to get noticed for…whatever it is an extrovert needs to be noticed for at any given nano-second.
But some of the best thinkers, and game changers have in fact been introverts. And while the era in which they lived, the nature of their work, or plain luck may have had something to do with their eventual success, you can bet that being an introvert played a large role regardless. Therefore to write off introverts as some kind of backward, dying breed is not only lazy, it is foolish from a cultural and business stand point. Yet often people make this mistake because introverts do not excel, (or have much interest in) the “look at this fantastic thing I can do, and don’t you want me to do it for you!” school of networking.
If, however, you are a wise recruiter, company, or guru, you will actively cultivate relationships with introverts. For just as extroverts have many obvious “advantages” over us, we have many subtle advantages over extroverts.
But you don’t meet us in the same ways, by and large. You have to work a little harder then free coffee and Nilla Wafers at the local AmVets building. You can’t just turn us loose and watch the sparks fly. We don’t work in sparks. So for those who do want to explore this introvert magic, I have some advice for you;
Start creating networking events designed specifically for us.
Want to see a well planned networking event fill up faster than you can say “business card”? Proudly label it as an introvert friendly event. The introverted in the population would likely be jumping out of windows in order to get to it faster. That’s because we introverts know how much people unfairly cater to extroverts. And we don’t want to play that game. We want to contribute and meet people on our terms. Give us the chance to do so, and most of us will be there.
How? Read on…
1) Get away from the bars.
I have spoken to some people about this recently on Brazen Careerist, and though a few were inclined to prefer the boisterous, loud and “stimulating” environment of a bar as the perfect place to make new contacts, most actually shared my disdain for such networking events. I can’t say all of them were introverts, but I feel comfortable thinking most introverts are not going to be into such an atmosphere when it comes to networking and marketing. Too crowded. Too noisy. Too…unpredictable.
The solution? If introverts want to network, the strictly networking events should be the opposite of bars. Quiet. Intimate. Spacious. Relaxing. Hold a meet and greet, networking style event in the local independent coffee house perhaps. Rent a whole room if they have one. Or perhaps a conference room at the local library. Anywhere an introvert can actually think, and process what is going on before reacting to it. They need that in order to thrive, so let them have that by meeting in a location suited to such.
2) Prepare a Syllabus/Homework
Introverts like to know the purpose of most things before they proceed. The more information they have on something, the more likely they are to speak or act on it. If the entire mission for an event is “Come meet people!” introverts on a good day will simply say no thanks. On most days, they’ll laugh. That is because to an introvert, “meeting people” is not its own end in most cases. Such an event requires them to enter a totally random crowd, pointlessly meander about until they are warm enough to engage someone (if they ever are), and then try to begin a conversation that has specific merit. That is what we do. And since small talk has zero actual merit other than to exist, most introverts hate it.
But what if those who registered for a local event were emailed a list of things that were going to happen at the event? They knew who would be in charge, and where that person could be found upon arriving. Will there be any speakers, or will it be all free flow? Refreshments? What kind? This will give an introvert a plan. An idea of what to expect.
Even better, if they are told, “please bring with you answers to these five questions“, they will be even more happy to attend, because that provides instant and common purpose for all attendees. Those five questions will be relevant to what is happening at the event. And it is through engaging in something that introverts more often get to know strangers. This leads well into my next bit of advice.
3) Do….Something!
We get it. Extroverts love talking to people as an activity unto itself. Which is why topics that have no real bearing on the day, or on anything, will suffice. That is the tool by which extroverts dig into the nature of someone, and find nuggets to harvest a relationship.
To introverts, that is just dirt flying everywhere. We hate being dirty, you know.
So give us a task at the event. Be creative with this, but don’t be complex, either. Not yet anyway. If you set a goal for the evening, and introverts will come knowing what that goal is, you will get more out of them. Because then something tangible is being accomplished. Perhaps instead of thumping music, drunk co-eds, and numbers on napkins, as in a bar, the social focus is a discussion of a movie that will be played. Or maybe the organizer of the particular event has a very specific idea or obstacle they would like to share with the group. Remember the syllabus? Put this on there, and introverts will come to your event with all kinds of things to suggest. And through discussing the problem, or accomplishing the goal, or responding to the specific stimulus the event offers, introverts will be sharing who and what they are, and at what they excel.
And as a side note, get to this pretty quickly. If the event starts at 7:00, get the ball rolling at 7:00. The quicker you engage in the mission of the evening, the earlier the introverts will feel involved. Number Four on this list is related.
4) Share Ideas/Theories as Opposed to Identities/Positions
“What’s your name? And what do you do? Here is what I do, and a thirty second pitch as to how what I do can help you do what you do. Since this isn’t about me, it’s about helping you.”
Yeah right. That sort of crap isn’t like running fingernails against a chalkboard for an introvert. It’s more like running one’s own teeth against a chalkboard.
Instead of introducing yourself and what you “do”, and what you can do for someone else, (that old standby), what if you introduced who you were by sharing your biggest idea to a stranger? I had a Brazen conversation about this recently as well. Think of it…
“I’m Lisa, and my big idea is to find a way to incorporate electronic book readers with instant messenger services so that I can have part of a book sent to me at random times during the day to keep it interesting and non-invasive while I am at work!“
I already want to know more about Lisa and her idea. I want her to explain it to me. And, the shocker is, I will actually ask her. Yes, this introvert would ask the question. Because you see I have something substantial about which to talk. I don’t have to do any of that digging.
5) Specialize.
This one isn’t new. It does happen already. Yet not as often as the general “business card swap” type of events where a bunch of people gather in a room with bad coffee, and try really hard to pretend they find one another interesting.
I have been to one of those ever, and I was 30 years old before I did it. Guess what? It is highly unlikely I will ever go to another, because it sucked for me in all the ways I predicted it would.
But if the event were specifically for writers, I would more likely go. Because I at least know what everyone there is doing, or trying to do. And it would once again provide me with a specific to discuss, instead of small talk. Introverts like to know why they are where they are any given time. And as I said, “meeting people” is not enough. But meeting other writers? Other graphic designers? Other accountants? That we can handle.
This approach doesn’t prevent one from encountering an extrovert, but I think it is the standard event format that comes closest to catering to the introvert way of thinking.
****
So there you have it. Five ideas to open up networking events to introverts. Or shall I say, open up introverts to networking events. There are more, of course, and ideally, a great event would combine two or more of these suggestions.
Introverts are here to stay, and networks, businesses, and extroverts ought to get used to that. One good way to balance things out is to make an already difficult process much easier for these highly valuable people.