Mindful Iterations
There’s been a few times over the past few months I’ve attempted to start conversations with like-minded friends about Buddhism and Personal Branding. In the online world, there seems to be a huge emphasis on developing and maintaining one’s persona, also known as a personal brand.
While I can see the benefit of maintaining a consistent message and knowing “who you are”, there’s been something that just hasn’t “felt right”; something that gets under my skin, so to speak, when I think about personal branding.
What I’ve gathered from observing a conversation or two in the last year, is that personal branding can be seen as a five dollar term for “being and presenting your authentic self”. Even still, this explanation hasn’t “felt quite right”. (For me.)
Now, I will admit to not having read a ton about personal branding. I’ve read the Tom Peters article, The Brand Called You. I’ve read some articles here and there. I’ve had some discussions with people. But, I’m not an expert by any means. I’ll also state right here, that I don’t judge anyone who is into personal branding. We all have our own paths, right?
I’ve reflected and tried to figure out why the concept of personal branding irks me. I don’t like having opinions without knowing why I have the opinions. In doing so, I’ve come up with a few possibilities:
- Maybe I’m lazy, but the thought of maintaining a personal brand just seems like a hell of a lot of work.
- I find that life is fluid and I question – if one has a consistent “brand”, do they leave themselves room for personal growth?
- If one is spending time and effort trying to think of the “them they wish to portray”, if that isn’t really who they are, then is it just an illusion? (And, we can go even deeper here by asking, isn’t the self just illusion, anyway? But, I digress…)
Even with all those philosophical questions (which, for the record, I absolutely adore coming up with and discussing) I still didn’t feel like I had the right question.
So, I dropped it for a while, until yesterday when I realized a friend of mine was the perfect person to have the discussion with. I sent my friend a direct message on Twitter with the question, “Are the concepts of Buddhism compatible with the concepts of personal branding?”
The conversation hasn’t gone anywhere yet, but just a three message dialogue was enough to set the reflection wheels in motion. And, those wheels drove me to the question which almost feels like a 21st century koan:
If there is no self, then what is there to brand?
I’m looking forward to meditating on this in the weeks ahead.
I’m on day 5 of being an ex-smoker. Er, maybe it’s a non-smoker. Whatever. I’m not smoking anymore.
Let me tell you – the first three days were three intensely painful days. Mentally, physically, and emotionally, I’ve been raw.
I was angrier than I think any human should be.
I have felt completely inept when it comes to figuring out what to do with the moments when I’d typically smoke.
I’ve felt extremely sad and empty.
It’s a roller coaster. Anyone who says otherwise is either full of crap, or is an asshole.
I’ve smoked for the majority of the last 18 years. That’s like, half my life. I’ve had weeks and days where I’ve quit in those 18 years, but those weeks and days have been few and far between.
And, now I have to be patient. I feel as though while I’ve been smoking, I’ve had blinders on to other areas that need improving. I’ve known about them, but I’ve not done much about them. Now that I’ve taken action in one area (and it’s a huge deal, quitting smoking), I want to take massive action in EVERY area.
I’m overweight. I am lucky in that my frame allows me to carry some extra weight without looking like a seal, however, I know what the scale says. I also know how I feel when I walk, run, or climb a hill. Partly affected by smoking, partly affected by carrying over 30 pounds of extra weight, those feelings suck. They fucking suck. (Watch out world, she’s cussing openly – she must mean business.)
So, I’m faced with a bit of a dilemma. I can either focus on my new non-smoking ways for a few more weeks, or I can do what I’m doing now – obsessing about all the changes I need to make in my life. Change of diet, change of exercise habits, change of sleeping patterns, change, change, change, change OMG, CHANGE.
I believe in iterations. At least my blog says I do. You know that whole “mindful iterations” thing? I like to think of an iteration as an incremental change; a gradual next step in getting closer to a target.
The truth is, I’m terrified.
I’m terrified of slipping back into complacency. I’m terrified of staying sedentary. I’m terrified of the pain I feel in my legs and my feet, which are most likely because of the extra weight I’m carrying around. I’m terrified of my family history of heart disease and Type II Diabetes. I’m terrified of time and its consequences. I’m terrified of every word I’m typing, and I’m terrified of hitting Publish.
If you somehow stumbled across this post because you’re quitting smoking or because you’re thinking of quitting smoking, or if you’re a bit freaked out or scared because you’ve woken up and found that you need to make some concrete changes in your life in order to live the life you want to live… you’re not alone.
It is scary and painful to realize that things “got out of hand”. If you’re anything like me, you want immediate and overnight success. You want to snap your fingers and watch excess pounds disappear immediately. You want your lung capacity to return to what it used to be. You’re afraid of moving too fast and setting yourself up for failure, but you’re also afraid of not moving fast enough.
Again, you’re not alone. I don’t have the answers. I don’t have any secret way out. But I am doing my damnedest to avoid the fate that most people in my maternal grandmother’s family have had.
You can do it. You’re not alone.
Back in high school, I spent much of the time which should have been focusing on things like Biology, Geometry, and other things ending in -y, drawing. I didn’t draw sailboats, puppies, flowers, or people. I drew letters. On plain white typing paper (not printer paper), I would “tag” my friends’ names, and give them out as gifts. I loved doing it. I’d spend hours lost in the contour of each letter, always trying to change up the way an A looked, or figure out how I could intertwine the cross of the T with the bridge of the H.
Years later, once computers were more common (and web pages were full of text on graphics – bad SEO, bad SEO!), I’d spend hours browsing through and downloading from free font repositories. At one time I reached the limit of how many fonts Windows 95 would allow me to have. I’d download fonts and play with my image editing software. I knew all the tricks – drop shadow, bevel, you name it. I loved the way letters, placed together, made words, which made sentences, which made pictures.
All these years later, I still have a love affair with letters and a soft spot for words. There’s nothing quite like them. They’re beautiful. Alliterations are like symphonies to my mind.
Sometimes I wish I’d paid more attention in high school instead of perfecting different styles of drawing the letter S. But, mostly, I wish I could go back to those days and relive those hours lost with pencil in hand. I don’t think I’d change a thing (even if it did mean getting another C in Geometry).
I’m not a marketer by strict definition. While in the past I have spent time working in SEO as a Project Manager, I am, by definition, a geek.
I started off in the IT industry back in 1997, when I answered my first AT&T WorldNet (remember dial-up?) tech support call. “Thank you for calling AT&T WorldNet technical support. My name is Samantha. May I have your name and the telephone number you registered with please?”
Since then, I’ve held so many roles in IT, that I’m a bit of a jack of all trades; a technical generalist, if you will. My current role is that of software engineer. However, in my day to day work, I’m lucky enough to come in contact with many high profile brands. That’s not a responsibility I take lightly.
Maybe I’m a freak, but when I did technical support, I felt a strong sense of responsibility to my callers. They were entrusting me with caring, over the phone, for their several-thousand dollar machines. While there were times I didn’t quite feel like fixing broken Internets, helping customers backup several years of data, or walking through my 40th software install in a day, that’s what I did. Not just because it was my job, but because these people trusted me. They trusted me to guide them down the proper path. They trusted me to do what was best for them.
Fourteen years later, I still feel that sense of responsibility when it comes to clients. They are entrusting me with their brand. That’s a much larger scale than an Internet connection, a software suite, or a few thousand dollar computer. Their brand is bigger than a logo, slogan, or jingle. Their brand is their livelihood. It’s their reputation. It is responsible for feeding hundreds, sometimes thousands of families. Maybe that’s why I’m a bit of a perfectionist. I don’t like rushing through things. I like taking my time and making sure things are done right.
In a way, I’m a steward of my client’s brand. If I make a glaring mistake on Client X’s project, hundreds, thousands, or even millions of people aren’t going to know that Samantha made a boo-boo. But, it may very likely reflect on Client X’s brand. It opens the door for Client X’s prospective customer to ask themselves, “Jeez – if Client X can’t manage this, how are they going to handle my insert random customer need here?” I’m not okay with that.
So, to the brands I’m fortunate enough to work with, I say thank you.
You have entrusted me with your brand. That’s a pretty big deal. I understand that your brand is bigger than a logo, jingle, or slogan. Your brand is your livelihood. It’s your reputation. It’s responsible for feeding hundreds, maybe even thousands of families. If I make a mistake, it doesn’t reflect on me – it reflects on you. That’s a pretty big deal. Thank you.
A week and a half ago, I went home to California for the first time in over seven years. I wasn’t sure how I’d feel, having been gone for now what is 1/5 of my life. I haven’t been back to Southern California since my 20′s. I wasn’t sure what I’d find.
I spent weeks stressing out about the flight (I’m not a fan of flying). I wondered if I’d want to move back to the land of the ocean and mountains, or as others call it, the land of the fruits, nuts, and flakes. I wondered if I’d see any of my friends. And, I wondered if I’d still feel the closeness with my friends, some of whom I’ve known since I was 14 years old.
I’m still processing the trip. Truth be told, it was quite emotional. I saw my mom for the first time since January, 2009. I saw several friends, and just as I had hoped, it was like no time had passed. The only signs of aging were a couple of lines on all of our faces, but the connection was there and aside from getting bigger hugs, it was like I had just seen them all yesterday.
Examining the Emptiness
Upon my return to the Mitten (the state I now call home), there was a sense of emptiness. While my philosophical views maintain that emptiness is part of the human condition, it’s not always comfortable. I believe that part of this life’s challenge is learning how to become comfortable in the uncomfortable, and remain “okay” even in the face of a lingering emptiness. But, being that I’m somewhat of a thinker, and I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t, I had to examine the emptiness before moving on.
By examining what I was feeling, I realized something is missing in my life. While I have incredibly close Friends (upper case F friends and lower case f friends are different), the majority of them live in other places. While they’re always a phone call away, the several thousand mile distance renders it impossible to call them and ask to meet for coffee in half an hour, or drive to their house on a moment’s notice. These people are more than casual acquaintances; we know each other at our core.
I Like Authenticity
I have a few Friendships like this with people in the Metro Detroit area, but since I’ve only been here for a few years, the history isn’t the same. Trust and loyalty takes time to build. Additionally, the people I have met in the D have been people I’ve met through work or social media. The people with whom I’ve connected I’ve mostly seen at social media gatherings. Add in the fact that social media relationships have an interesting business-mixed-with-pleasure dynamic, and it can be hard to ascertain who is real and who is just marketing themselves as real. In the age of the personal brand, taking the brand out of the personal can be an uncommon occurrence.
Since my return to Michigan, I haven’t been on Twitter as much as I usually am. When I’m in a reflective state, I find it difficult to hang out on Twitter. I don’t know if it’s because I’m clearly a more-than-140 character kind of a person, or if it’s just too difficult to engage and connect on the level that I want (and need).
I’m also taking some time to learn from the self-examination that came from my trip and making an effort to connect and engage with some people who have stuck out in my mind as really extraordinarily genuine people. I do my best to see the good in all people and recognize where everyone shines, but sometimes people just strike you as “real”.
And, to be fair, I’m also making sure that I’m being authentic and real, too. In this digital age, it’s easy to lose oneself in the timeline of life.
Walk Through Discomfort
I’ll admit that I’m relatively uncomfortable putting this out there. But again, I have to walk through the discomfort and be true to myself.
Earlier today, my partner blogged about doing, instead of trying. She and I have often conversed about my need for things to be perfect.
A few months ago, a friend of mine featured some open letters on her blog. I really liked the format, and I’ve decided I’m going to borrow it. She’s been nagging me to write, so I’m sure she won’t mind.
Dear Perfect,
We’ve been dancing around this for months, years, decades. You show up in your high heels and your fancy pants. That’s right, I said fancy pants. You’ve lured me in one too many times – stroking my face tenderly, only to disappear right when I thought you were in my reach.
I don’t know why it’s taken me so long, but I’ve finally realized something – you’re unattainable. And you know what? I’m okay with that. Why? Because, I don’t want you anymore. It just isn’t working out. I’d say that it’s not you, it’s me, but that wouldn’t be fair to you or me. Why? Because, it isn’t me. It’s you.
You’ve whispered sweet nothings into my ear, “it’s almost good enough. You can’t finish yet. You can’t ship. It has to be… perfect.” Well, guess what – I am finished. And, I am shipping – I’m shipping you – right out the door.
And, just to show you that I’m serious? I’m not going to be their when your trying to get back into my life. That’s right – I misspelled their and your. Are you loosing your mind yet?
This isn’t meant to be mean-spirited. This isn’t easy for me. It’s hard to end a relationship that has defined the core of who you are for so very long. But, I have to. If I wish to live a life of courage and authenticity, I need to live a life without you.
So, hit the road, Perfect. And, don’t you come back (no more, no more).
Love,
Samantha
The old saying goes April showers bring May flowers, but in addition to bringing those bee-attracting things I refuse to have near any entrances to my house, it also brings the NFL Draft. Those of us who are Lions fans often consider this grand event to be our Super Bowl; it’s the one day when Lions fans have something they usually lose by the middle of football season: hope.
One would think that the chants and boos often heard at the NFL Draft is indicative of football – a bunch of loud obnoxious meatheads yelling about guys who will run around in tight pants, while throwing and catching the ol’ pigskin.
But tonight, as I started watching the NFL Draft, and saw the reaction of Von Miller as he was chosen by the Denver Broncos, I realized that the NFL Draft isn’t just about getting a stud for your team (c’mon, I know that’s the biggest thing), it’s also a a chance to watch people’s dreams come true.
I know, I know, leave it to a girl to totally emasculate the hardy manly rough and tough game of football. What can I say? I have estrogen. But, stick with me for a moment.
As children, most of us are taught that we can become anything we want to be. Some of us want to be lawyers, some of us want to be doctors, and some of us want to be football players. Quite often, those dreams do not materialize and we find ourselves in jobs that we may or may not like. We turn our back on our dreams, or decide that we’ll follow them come the ever elusive someday.
So, forgive me if I get a little choked up and sentimental when I get the opportunity to see someone’s face light up when they follow their dream and they realize – their dream has come true. It’s that hope realized that gives us the ability to tell our children to reach for the stars. It’s that hope realized that gives us a little push to do something we’ve always dreamed of.
Seeing other people achieve their dreams is inspiring. Not only do we get to be happy for the person, but we also get to realize that dreams do sometimes come true. With hard work and dedication, we can transform a dream into reality.
So, I challenge you – the next time someone’s name is called in the NFL Draft, take a look at their face and really take a look. See their reaction, their emotion, their joy. Take wonder in the privilege of seeing their dream come true. And then, ask yourself how you can make your dreams a reality.
Oh, and Go Lions!
I’m working from home today so I can sign for my MacBook Pro. My honey contributed to my MacBook fund as an early birthday present. My birthday is in August, so it’s a very early birthday present. 
It’s my first Mac and I’m very giddy and excited.
It’s no secret to anyone who knows me, that I love technological toys. But, this isn’t just any technological toy – it’s a MacBook Pro! As a consumer, I find it interesting to see just how marketing works and how Apple has it down.
“My Mac will make me a better programmer.”
“My Mac will make me more productive.”
“My Mac will make my computing life easier.”
These are the stories the marketing genius of Apple wants me to believe. I know logically that my productivity and skill are solely in my hands. But, there’s a still an excited 34-year old kid who keeps looking out the window for the Fed-Ex truck to arrive because she’s just a little curious as to whether the myth and the magic is true; even a little bit.
Stepping back even further, the other strong marketing message surrounding Macs is that they just work the way you want them to. This is a message echoed by most Mac owners. No wonder Apple has such success! How often is it that you have a company’s marketing message line up with their consumers’ mouths?
The PC image we’ve been sold is clunky and not so elegant. As a friend of mine explained, a Mac is a nice car that gets you places without fuss. A PC with Linux (the OS I use when on a PC) requires that you spend nights in the garage under the hood. That statement lines up with Apple’s marketing message. And again, how rare is that? When the mouth of the consumer carries the message of the brand? I mean, how often do you hear people say, “Wow, that’s some mighty high quality Angus beef,” about a fast food burger? You don’t. Or, at least I don’t.
But, I digress as that can be a whole other post. In the meantime, I think I’ll just keep peeking my head up here and there, looking out the window for that Fed-Ex truck to arrive.
It’ll be interesting to see whether or not I become a better or more productive programmer. If so, maybe it’ll be because I enjoy using the new system. It’ll also be interesting to see if I become vehicle for the message of the Mac.
What are some of your favorite marketing stories?
For those who know me and are familiar with the programming side of my life, they know I’m a relatively opinionated person. When it comes to writing software, I believe in doing things the “right” way. As a general rule I don’t believe in copying and pasting code, nor do I believe in a rush-it-out-the-door coding practice or mentality.
I believe you can either pay for something in the front end by putting in the time and thought for a quality product, or pay for it in the back end by fixing bugs and potentially alienating customers. My philosophy is that I’d rather spend the time and thought to do it “right” up front than pay for my mistakes later on down the road.
After all, if I’m paying for it in the back end, not only am I going to spend extra time on something that I could be using for new work, I’m also running the risk of forgetting what I originally did. Even worse, I’m running the risk of giving my customer a bad experience with faulty software. If something isn’t written right and gives my customer or their customers difficulty, they’re going to automatically have a bad taste in their mouth as their first impression, no matter how forgiving they may be.
When I am faced with a situation where I need to copy and paste code, I feel the need to fully understand what the code is doing. By copying and pasting code I run the risk of copying and pasting bugs (or shall we say interesting features?) into other areas or products. I can’t explain how much that bothers me. Anytime I’ve Ctrl-C’ed Ctrl-V’ed code, a little part of my soul has died.
If I absolutely have to copy and paste code, I’m going to type it out by hand, and then use a diff tool such as vimdiff to compare the two versions. At least if I retype code, I’m getting a better understanding of what the code does than if I’m blindly moving snippet A to text editor window B. I don’t like doing things blindly.
Unfortunately, my propensity for “doing things right” isn’t always the quickest route from point A to point B. Sometimes I find myself in that dreaded state of analysis paralysis. I enjoy the process of drawing my program designs on a whiteboard or a piece of graph paper. However, I also enjoy finding the holes or problems in my thinking; finding the reasons why something won’t work, which then gives me the opportunity to find a better way to do “it” – whatever “it” is.
What can I say – I’m in love with the edge case. I find people rarely think of the edge case, when maybe we should think about the edge case a little more often. It’s the edge case who is going to find a way to hack the system and expose a huge security flaw. It’s the edge case who is going to find that your software does what they’ve needed all along and then tell all their friends and coworkers about how your software saved them time and money when nothing else did. I’m a champion of the edge case. Why? Because the edge case almost always provokes a more thoughtful design. It’s true – you can’t make everyone happy all of the time, but if you can make a couple more people happy, the rewards can be great.
But what do you do when you have a hard deadline and you need to ship your software in a timely manner? When do you risk throwing the baby out with the bathwater because dammit, something has to ship? For at least the last ten years I’ve had a joke or quote about myself:
“I’m not obsessive; I’m just thorough.”
I don’t remember when or why I came up with it, but it’s stuck with me throughout the years because it’s true. Quality and detail are two things I’m passionate about.
The longer I’ve been programming, the more I’m learning that there isn’t necessarily one right way, leaving all others to be wrong ways. The more I do this, the more I see that there are different shades of right and wrong for different circumstances.
If I have 15 days to launch a product and there’s no way to reset client expectations, I’m going to do the best I can with what I’ve got, but I’ll also do my best to learn something for the future. Whether that’s an efficiency to be found in coding, or that I need to readjust the way I handle client expectations, I’m going to learn something. And hopefully next time, I can veer closer to “right”. To paraphrase my partner, sometimes good enough is good enough; the trick is in finding the balance.
I’ve looked at this post for at least fifteen minutes now, trying to figure out how to make it better and contemplating edge cases. Remember, I’m not obsessive; I’m just thorough. I think I’ll take a risk and hit publish. Hopefully my post doesn’t have any bugs.
Somehow the entirety of 2010 went by without me making one single blog post. Quite honestly, I haven’t felt as though I’ve had a ton to say. Judging by my twitter updates, one would probably argue that I have plenty to say, but a lot of my tweets are purely conversational. And maybe that’s something to blog about in and of itself – shouldn’t a blog post be the beginning of, or at least part of a conversation? (Now, next time I don’t feel like I have something to write about, I do. Ha! I love how that works!)
2010 brought a lot of awesome to my life. I had the opportunity to attend a couple of conferences, specifically TEDxDetroit, and 140conf Detroit. By attending those two conferences, I was blessed with the opportunity to expand my mind, drink from the fountain of inspiration, and meet some really awesome people. My partner and I also got involved with Photowalks Detroit, and in doing so, met more awesome people.
Obviously, from that last paragraph, meeting awesome people was part of what made 2010 so, well… awesome. It wasn’t the only thing – my partner and I celebrated seven (1-2-3-4-5-6-7) years together, we became more settled in our area (having moved into the Detroit area from Traverse City in 2008), among other things. But, people were definitely a big part of the awesome-equation. This is the way it should be – I can have all the cool gadgets, gizmos, and thingies I want, and while those may be fun (believe me – I <3 gadgets), I'm more likely to have memories of laughter with my friends and family than memories of beating someone in Words with Friends on my iPhone.
But, I digress. I fully expect 2011 to exceed the awesome-level of 2010. My emphasis will be on a few things, all of which I plan on blogging about in separate posts, including:
- Embracing curiosity and denying fear
- Living my life with passion and purpose.
- Making sure the people in my life know how much they mean to me.
I hope your 2011 is filled with everything I hope for myself:
I hope it’s filled with awesome. I hope you connect with people who make an impact in your life, who challenge you, and who make you laugh. I hope you face your fears and laugh at yourself. I hope you question yourself and strive to be the best you possible. I also hope you are gentle with yourself and remember that you’re only human, allowing yourself to make mistakes. And now that I have somehow gotten the song, “I Hope You Dance,” stuck in my head, I hope you can somehow figure out how to get rid of it.
Happy 2011.
Follow Me!
