The phrase athinking outside the boxa has long been a source of consternation rather than inspiration for me. Why do we use a trope to describe thinking that is supposed to be unconventional? It just seems wrong. I get that cliches summarily, if unoriginally, convey complex ideas so when I hear them I generally grimace inwardly and look the other way. But this one seems strangely self-defeating.
I dona't remember being aware of athinking outside the boxa until the saying was suddenly everywhere. (Its use seems to have peaked, but cliches are notoriously tenacious.) Curious, I did a little research into its origins and discovered that athinking outside the boxa is worse than a mere example of the absence of the very creativity the phrase is ostensibly deployed to sparka—or, incongruously, announce. The real crime is that ita's misleading: there is no box. Wea're focused on thinking outside a box that doesn't even exist.
I am a pretty instant guy. In fact, I go quite batty when something that should be instant is not. Nowadays, thanks to the internet we have instant information and communication. Anything we want to know right now we can discover simply by visiting google.com. And we can tell our friends about it right away. But recently I have realized that there is a situation in my life where instant is not good. Where instant is a distraction and a detriment. And so, I turn instant off when reading books.
Summer is winding down. The light is shifting and a hint of autumn wafts on the breeze. If you havena't taken a summer vacation yet, odds are you are a small business owner. Sure, you can work on your laptop outside in the dog days and cut back your hours, but those small concessions to the season do not yield the same benefits as same as taking a true break. One of the drawbacks of being your own boss is that the demarcation between work and the rest of your life becomes hazy: the dreaded schedule creep. Somehow the clear advantages of being able to match your work style to your natural circadian rhythms (Ia'm looking at you, night owls) and accommodate the inevitable tasks that need to be completed during standard business hours are offset by a tendency for work to expand to fill all of the nooks and crannies of available time. And with the intertwining of social media and enterprise ita's hard to tell whata's work and whata's not anymore.
Does it even matter? Common sense suggests that it does, and research confirms it. But that doesna't mean ita's easy for the small business owner to close up shop, hop in the roadster, and head for the hills. At least, not to any vacation destination that doesna't have high-speed internet access. Part of the problem is that the demands of your business dona't stop just because youa're on vacation, and many entrepreneurs dona't have anyone to cover for them. But for many, those facts obscure a deeper, darker truth: they cana't get into vacation mode. Much ink has been spilled over our collective inability to unplug, and groups like Digital Detox, based in Oakland, California, have formed to lend support to the tech-tethered seeking to break the habit.
It turns out that if you do it right, just standing there can be pretty powerful. Think Wonder Woman: chest open but not puffed, legs apart, head level, one or both hands on the hips. Assume that stance and your body will release hormones that make you feel confident and calm. Ita's sort of like putting the proverbial cart before the horse: instead of allowing your posture to merely reflect your emotions, you can use it to elevate your mood and generate the self-confidence you need to navigate stressful situations. Because even born leaders like yourself have off days.
Striking a super hero pose might sound silly now, but it can save your bacon the next time you have to pitch an idea to a difficult client, deliver negative feedback to a coworker, or plead your sorry case to a judge. Social science researchers at preeminent business schools (like Harvard) have identified the primary hormones associated with so-called expansive postures as testosterone, which correlates with dominance and a willingness to take risks, and cortisol, which is related to stress. When you gotta deliver, you want your testosterone high and your cortisol low.
The physiological effects of holding a commanding pose for just two minutes last about 20, but the benefits of fine tuning your posture in general are immeasurable. Your mother always said to stand up straight, and she was so right. Your carriage changes your self-perception and influences how favorably others perceive and respond to you. Adopt an expansive posture and you will seem more credible and attractive. But overdo it by going all stiff or alpha primate and you will have exactly the opposite effect.
If you follow my writing at all, you will notice there seems to be an ongoing theme of conversation around building great user-focused products. I typically dive deep into building software products, exploring how to build something that will truly ignite your users. Often you do this by putting your usersa' needs above all else. So it hit me hard when recently, I was let down by a person/brand that I really admire a Taylor Swift a as she did not ignite me as a ausera of her products.
Yes, I am a Taylor Swift fan. I like her music, but I also really like her as a person. I think she is authentic. She has been pretty true to herself and her fans since she got her start. Comparing Taylor Swift to Lady Gaga is night and day. With Taylor, what you see is what you get. She has always brought a akeep it reala approach to her music and her brand.
This is especially true if you subscribe to the ridiculous Church of 80-character Lines. -- David Heinemeier Hansson
Always remember: A program IS NOT communication between a human and the machine. It's a communication between a developer and the next developer. -- Don Schenck
I have learned an important principle: simple things work, often to our dumbfounded surprise, for we tend to distrust the simple and strive for the complex. -- Richard Cracroft, Our Trek Through the Wilderness
It was probably a decade ago, in the midst of my angst ridden teen years, that I decided New Year’s Resolutions were a load of crap.
My own personal case study has proven me correct: January 1st means a month of fighting to get on a treadmill at the gym. All the people who hate to work out, but resolve to go every day because HEY! NEW YEAR? NEW YOU! Time to flatten those abs and tighten that ass, right? No more carbs or chocolate, RIGHT?
Wrong.
“Diets” are always the new black in a new year. At least until February when the gym clears out again.
So yeah, I gave up trying to be “better” every new year. And who could blame me with all that Y2K (and now 2012) end-of-the-world stuff? Why not just party like it’s 1999? Live fast, die young. Mr James Dean said so.
But that doesn’t really work either. I don’t really believe that I will live to see the world end. And I don’t really care to die young.
So my mantra the last few years has simply been: Outdo Yourself. Basically, have a better year than the last. Do something different. Fly by the seat of your pants. Whatever the cost, go do interesting shit so you have something to put in your memoir. Or at least a great Facebook status to make your friends jealous.
That brings us to 2012. The ghost of Christmas future.
I had a few vague ideas of what this next year should accomplish, but it wasn’t until this fine gentleman pointed me in the direction of this outrageous lady’s blog post that I discovered I could indeed make resolutions. In the form of specific and attainable goals. In a way that gives me time as opposed to the First Of The Year Cold Turkey Syndrome.
Basically you pick a word for the year, choose 9 “life buckets”, 3 goals for each, and write down an action step for each goal at the beginning of every month. If you don’t do it, ask yourself why not? Maybe you didn’t want to do it in the first place. Reevaluate. Carry on.
My word for the year? Those of you who know me outside of the interwebs will probably get a fantastic laugh. Patience. She of the instant-gratification-let’s-hop-on-the-next-train-out-of-town-I-wanted-that-done-yesterday persona has chosen the word “patience.”
Why this particular word? Because I feel like I run around with my head cut off most of the time. Because when I don’t get something I want within 10 seconds, I get over it and move on to the next. If there are more than 2 people in line for coffee, I turn on my heel and walk out the door.
And I live in a town with serious slacker mentality. You’d have thunk some of it would have worn on me by now. You’d have been mistaken. Apparently you can take the girl out of the rat race, but the rat race stays severely embedded into her system.
At any rate, I’m hoping that this methodology brings more focus and attention to everything I do. Instead of walking out the door sans caffeine fix, why not take the time to snap some shots on the good old iPhone as a location reference for future photos shoots? Or use that time to simply be, well ummmm, patient?
I live in Rose City and I rarely stop to smell the damn roses. Here’s hoping I understand the idea of Patience a little better by 2013.
When someone reaches out to our company trying to get something from us, such as a job, or to sell us something, I always apply what I call the the “Joker Test”. All our products are free in at least a basic way, and it takes less the 30 seconds to sign up for an account. Our products are what define us. Every decision we make is going to be in terms of how we can make our products better for our customers. So why the heck would someone not take the time to learn a little about what we do before reaching out to us?
The aJoker Testa is simply a quick search to find out if the person reaching out has created an account and engaged with our product at least a bit. If the results are positive, the person passes my first screen.
It takes very little to time to understand us; with very little effort you can discover how we tick. Your proposal to us will be so much more valuable and our willingness to give you the time of day will be much higher if you just do some research before picking up the phone or sending us an email. Or you may choose to be a Joker.
Note: Earlier this summer, my husband and I found ourselves in an unfamiliar dilemma: we both had a chunk of vacation time we needed to use immediately. The situation called for an epic road trip across the wilds of Washington, Canada and Montana. More background in earlier post: Northwest road trip, part I: Ghosts and vampires
While Olympic National Park is home to the majestically named Olympic mountain range, it didna't prepare us for the peaks of British Columbia. The first attack came just after we left Vancouver. We wound our way north along the famous Sea-to-Sky Highway, admiring views of water and forest, and when we came to a sign for a waterfall at a provincial park (kind of like a state park here), we turned off the road. Our reward was the sight of Shannon Falls’ 1,000-plus-foot foot cascade.
That should have taught us something. But instead, when just down the road we came upon a scenic viewpoint sign with a little mountain graphic on it, we hardly noticed.
“Stop?” my husband asked, not taking his eyes off the road.
“Nah,” I said from the passenger seat. We hadn’t been driving very long; we’d just stopped at the waterfall; plus, I figured we weren’t going to get a dramatically better view of the distant peaks than what we could see out our car window.
We zipped by the turnoff. A moment later, we went around a corner.
“Oh my God! Wow! Holy—- ! Wow!”
Giant, glacier-covered mountains loomed to the west. They were so big, and so unexpected; it felt like they were nearly on top of us. I grabbed for the camera and got off a few through-the-window shots while my husband tried to keep from driving us off the road.
Honey, therea's a mountain at the window.
And thus we learned our first lesson of Canada: When they tell you there’s something to look at, they really mean it.
From there, the sights only got bigger and more impressive. Any bend could yield a breathtaking vista. We expected that in the national parks, but realized the whole freaking province was stunning. We even started joking each time we neared a provincial park: “Oh, it’s just a provincial park. It’s probably something like Yellowstone, only twice as big with five times as many geysers.”
Just another amazing, giant mountain in Canada.
Of course, once we did reach the national parks and the Rocky Mountains, the alpine attacks only became more frequent. I finally stopped taking photos of mountains. Partly, it was because they were literally everywhere I looked. But also, I knew their grandeur wouldn’t have the same power when I was home, looking at them on a computer screen, instead of staring up at them from an avalanche zone.
Note: Earlier this summer, my husband and I unexpectedly found ourselves needing to use a chunk of vacation time. The situation called for an epic road trip across the wilds of Washington, Canada and Montana. Here, in four parts, are the highlights.
Olympic National Park is only a few hours from our Oregon home, yet until this summer, wea'd never been. Did we think that it was too far? That it wouldn’t be worth it? Whatever the reason, we were repentant even before we actually entered the park boundaries. All it took was a glimpse of snow-capped peaks beckoning in the distance and we realized the error of our ways.
First look at Olympica's mountains. Yes, this was taken through a windshield.
These days, the damp and beautiful Olympic Peninsula might be better known as the home of the Twilight series than the home of a national park (and if youa're not familiar with Twilight, skip to the next section). Nowhere was that more evident than Forks, the little town Stephenie Meyer implausibly turned into a stop on every teenage girla's bucket list. Groups posed at the “Forks Welcomes You” sign, the high school, the hospital. As we waited at a stoplight, a girl in a Twilight shirt and a middle-aged woman, presumable her mother, clutching a Twilight map crossed the street in front of us.
First Beach, on the La Push reservation, was similarly populated a except here, werewolves, not vampires, decorated signs (again, this is a Twilight reference, apologies). It was impossible not to mock things like aJacob Blacka's Fireworks Stand,a but my laughter faded when we reached the coast. All those times Bella complains about the backwaters of Forks and La Push, she neglects to mention part of it is in a national park a ita's freaking beautiful.
First Beach. No bare-chested would-be werewolves sighted.
Of course, many of the beachgoers had obviously been drawn there by Meyer. I saw a man pick up his teenage daughter, who had a leg in a cast, and carry her down to the beach. Now that, I thought, is love.
We spent a few days exploring the beaches, forests and mountains, but as alluring as the idea of sexy vampires and sexier werewolves were, we had many miles left to go. A ferry ride across the choppy Puget Sound later, we were across the border in Victoria.
I was ready to stand on solid ground, but not ready to let go of the feeling of mystery wea'd had in Olympic. As the sun started its downward slide, we plastered stickers on our chests and joined a large group of people for a Ghostly Walk. Two guides traded off telling us about macabre incidents in Victoria’s past, from gruesome murders to horrific car crashes, and the spirits that couldna't seem to let go. Cheesy? Perhaps. But it was also a surprisingly good time. Even if the supernatural had been left out, it still would have been a fascinating tour of the seedier parts of the city’s history.
