Why Bother With A Plan?

The first business plan for my coaching practice was written on the back of a placemat while waiting for a lobster in an out-of-the-way shack in Maine. It was 2004, and I was on my way to visit some friends for a little R&R. I started thinking about my business and made a few notes:

- How much money I wanted to make in the next year

- How I would price my services to meet my income goals

- How many clients that meant I needed

- What kind of programs that meant I needed to offer

- What kind of additional training I would need

- How I would talk about my services

While I deconstructed a delicious lobster, I noodled on my plan. And when I removed the very attractive bib from around my neck and paid my check, I had a strong, workable direction for my business.

And I put that one-year plan in my purse and didn’t look at it again for six months.

Surprisingly, though, in that six months, I had done everything on my plan. Ahead of plan.

That’s right – I didn’t obsess, or over-think. I just executed.

Because the mere process of creating the plan – just putting my to-dos top of mind – catalyzed my action.

Now, there are those who detest plans. Maybe because they think plans are too rigid, don’t allow for creativity, aren’t that spontaneous, won’t accommodate serendipity.

[These people tend to - in Myers-Briggs talk - have a strong preference for "Perceiving", the dear darlings. They value flexibility above all and will do anything in their power to preserve their ability to go with the flow. And I completely get it. That's why I started this post of with the lobster story - just to show all those P people that planning can be easy. And tasty.]

A great plan, though, is not judged on how many tabs, tables and cross-references it includes.

A great plan is judged on how well it works.

With a plan, you know where to put your energy.

With a plan, you have a direction.

With a plan, you know what to say a whole-hearted “Yes!” to, and what to put in the “When There’s Time” file.

And planning can be easy. Easy-peasy.

Want to do one yourself? OK, take out a placemat-sized piece of paper. [lobster bib always optional.]

Answer these prompts:

- What do you want right now, more than anything?

- What’s your life going to be like when you get what you want? What’s it going to look like?

- Who are you when you’re at your best? What elements are in place? Which of these things already support getting what you want?

- What’s the first thing you need to do?

- Whose help do you need to do it?

- When can you start?

Focus, and put your best effort into these questions. When you’re done, you’ll realize that you have a plan, sugar.

Then fold it up and put it in your pocket.

And I’ll bet you, in six months, you’ve accomplished everything that needs doing.

Bet you a lobster dinner.

 

***

If you need a little help getting your plan together, there are still a few slots available for this Friday’s Get Yourself A Plan Retreat in Arlington, VA.  If you live outside the DC-area, you can sign up for the Virtual version of the Retreat.  Registration closes for the live event on Monday, February 27th, and on Wednesday, February 29th for the Virtual Retreat.

Get What You Want

You should get what you want.

This is a fundamental belief of mine. Oh, I shared What I Believe with you last June, and What I Want For You in January, but I don’t think I was as clear and as simple as I want to be today.

You should get what you want.

But first, you’ve got to know what it is you really want.

Not what Aunt Tilly (as dear as she is) wants for you, or what your best friend Billy wants for you, or what your mama or your daddy or your wife or your husband or your kid or your therapist or your coach… none of what these people “want” for you is as important as what you want for you.

And that can take some uncovering. May I share some of my own work around this?

People have told me that I should be more famous. That I should do guest posts around the world wide web, and that I should speak at chichi, in-crowd venues, and that I should hire a publicist. And on its face, that’s an ego-boosting idea, isn’t it? I mean, to be so well-known that people stop me in the market for autographs? Eye me appreciatively as I enter the restaurant? Clamor for my attention? Buy so many of my books that I can loaf away the rest of my life on a desert island with a cabana boy named Curtis?

Oh, I tried. [never got to the Curtis part, honestly.] I tried to play the game the way well-meaning people suggested. Gave me the heebie-jeebies, to tell you the truth. Because what I really, really, really value is being able to do the work that I do. I’d rather be on the phone with you figuring out how to grow your career than stand in front of a thousand people delivering a speech. And if because of time and energy I can only do one of those things, I pick you.

And by picking you, I get what I want – the chance to do my work. And when I do my work, I am happy. And when I’m happy, I attract more clients which allows me to do more of my work, and make more money. Which makes me happy in a way intentional fame likely couldn’t.

See how neatly that works?

Society tells us, frequently, that the key to success is to be skinny, sexy and, apparently, a heavy drinker with a fake tan. [But maybe I watch too much Snooki, and listen to too much pop music.]

But the key to success – really – is to be yourself. Fully. However it is you need to be.

And you owe it to yourself to figure out what that is.

So, take some time to ask:

- What does healthy look like, to me?

- What does happy look like, to me?

- What does fun look like, to me?

- What does financially solid look like, to me?

- Where am I most engaged and involved?

- How can I do the things that lift me up, every single day?

Then listen to the answers.

Because they’re yours. And very valuable. Priceless, even.

You can get what you want. It’s right here for you.

All you have to do is get yourself clear. And then? Go get what you know you really want.

[photo credit: Michele Woodward]

Go Ask Alice




Alice Sommer Herz

From time to time, it’s important to ask yourself why you do what it is you do. Why go to the office? Why practice medicine? Or law? Why teach? Why sell? Why provide that service you provide? Why construct an ad campaign or marketing strategy for your clients?

Do you know why you do it?

And how to explain what it is you do? [At one point of my corporate career, my child described my work as: "Mommy talks on the phone and has lunch with people." Hey, it's nice work if you can get it.]

I’ve been thinking about “Why” a lot recently as I revamp my website and create a business plan for the coming year. What is it I’m really trying to do with this coaching work of mine?

Then, on Saturday, I saw an amazing, astounding, powerful, touching, inspiring video on YouTube. It’s about Alice Sommer Herz who will turn 107 years old in November, 2010.  That’s amazing, isn’t it?

She’s also a musician – quite a good one, having performed as a concert pianist throughout her life.  At 106, she’s still playing everyday.  Astounding, right?

She’s also the oldest Holocaust survivor in the world.

Watch the video now.  I’ll be right here, waiting for you.

That was something, wasn’t it?

Her hope, her optimism, her sense of humor. Inspiring.

“Every day, life is beautiful,” says Alice. Even the day she was arrested. Even when she was in the camp. Even in the most challenging of times.

She not only survived – she thrived.

And for the six-plus decades since the camp, she’s lived. Fully. Well. Present in this moment. She greets each day as a delightful gift, “aware of the beauty of life.”

About the fourth time I watched this film, I realized why I do what I do. My work as a coach is designed to help you become like Alice.

Happy. Joyful. Clear. Present.

Even at work.

Even when you’re challenged.

Even when it things are so bad it seems like the world has stopped spinning.

I want to teach you how to recognize when you are at your best – your equivalent of Chopin’s Etudes – and help you center your life there.  And focus on doing that best thing every single day.

Because when you do, you can happily weather any storm. And live a life well-lived. Just like Alice.

The MacGyver Approach


Know what? I really don’t like stress. It makes me sick. Literally. So, I am doing my best to eliminate every ounce of stress from my life.

A great definition of stress is feeling like you lack the tools required to do that which is asked of you. Think about that. I lack the tool of time, so I’m stressed on the commute to work. I lack the tool of money, so I’m stressed about sending my kid to college. I lack the tool of expert knowledge on a specific subject, so I’m stressed about being seen as a dope.

So, if it’s stressful for me to think that I lack the right tools, then the opposite, unstressful thought is: I have everything, or can get anything, I need to get this job done. I am always doing my best.

Yes, I am freakin’ MacGyver.

MacGyver was the resourceful secret agent on the 80s TV show of the same name who could solve any problem with spit, a toilet paper roll, three paper clips and a shoelace. Great stuff. And he never lost his cool. Maybe he knew he could always pull out some kind of solution and foil the bad guys. Loved that.

Over time, I’ve realized that, like MacGyver, I always have some kind of tool I can use in some way in any given situation. Even if that tool is simply asking a question, like, “Can you help?” Yeah, I can do that.

After years of self-flagellation where I told myself how often I fell short, I’ve changed. Now I know that I am always doing my best with the tools I’ve got on hand, even if the outcome is less than, or different from, what I anticipated at the outset.

Mindbender, huh? Contrary to everything you’ve learned, right? How often have you heard (or said), “You could have done better.” Just writing that sentence makes me feel like someone is staring at me, hard, over a pair of intimidating spectacles. “You could have done better.” Sure reinforces the idea that I’m a loser.

Yet, I might have had zero support — no extra hands — to do what needed doing. We can dwell on what the outcome could have been if I’d had some help… but when I acknowledge that what happened was due to the resources at hand, I can see that I did my absolute best with what I was given. And if this points out that I need to learn to ask for help, I can focus there — and get the tool I need for the future.

I might not have enough money to execute in the “proper” way — today, many of us are having to adjust to tight budgets and limited funds — but when I carp and complain about what might have been if I’d had enough money, I neglect what’s really real. And what’s real is what I’ve been able to actually accomplish with the money that’s available.

And, when I’m honest, sometimes the tool I lack is the physical oomph to get done what needs doing. I could say to myself, “Well, if only I’d gotten a better night’s sleep,” or “if only I didn’t have cancer,” or “if only I lost 20 pounds,” I visualize a different outcome that the one that really happened. That’s when I step into fantasy land.

Because it’s an unreal, possibly impossible outcome I’d be imagining. The outcome that happened is what happened. Dwelling on anything else is dwelling in fantasy. And inviting stress to come along for the ride.

When I know that am always doing my best, I can accept that some days I produce more, differently or better than other days. That’s just the way it is. But every outcome is always the best possible outcome given the tools I have at hand.

When I know I am always doing my best, I can also figure you are likewise doing your best. And that gives me the freedom to not be stressed about it — my job just may be helping you find the tools you need to do it differently.

Shift your thinking on this one, dear readers, and not only will your stress level plummet, but you’ll find that what you do becomes better and easier. Why? Because you already know it’s going to be your best. And like MacGyver, you’ll be amazed at what can be accomplished with just the tools you have at hand.

Broken For You



Sometimes you read a book at precisely the right time for precisely the right reason, and take away precisely the right message. So it was for me and the book Broken For You by Stephanie Kallos.

It’s the story of people who attempt to hide their brokenness by changing their names, taking on fruitless quests, hiding in lonely isolation or liberally using Guarnier Nutrisse Conditioning Color Masque Number 68.

Wanda Schultz has too many cracks to count. The product of a broken home, she begins fixing things at age six in a canny effort to fit in at her adoptive aunt and uncle’s home. As an adult, she chooses a “fixing” career, too, becoming a professional stage manager, fixing productions, actors, props and sets. The more she tries to ignore her brokenness the more cracks and fissures grow until, literally, her body is shattered and she must come to terms with her authentic self.

Margaret Hughes lives alone in a mansion, among the ghosts of people and things that once held so much meaning but also so much guilt. When Margaret opens her house to boarders — Wanda is the first — she finds the glue to mend her fractured life and let go of her paralyzing guilt and shame.

How many of us spend an inordinate amount of energy hiding our broken places? Pretending they don’t exist? We seek out the healing adhesive we think can be found in that one person, that one experience, that one surgical procedure, that one elusive Holy Grail of Something that will make us perfect, and make our troublesome pasts disappear. Yet, it’s only in accepting our broken places and applying a little grout and glue, that we are able to accept the authentic, happy mosaic of our lives.

From the book: “Look then at the faces and bodies of people you love. The explicit beauty that comes not from smoothness of skin or neutrality of expression, but from the web of experience that has left its mark. Each face, each body is its own living fossilized record. A record of cats, combatants, difficult births; of accidents, cruelties, blessings. Reminders of folly, greed, indiscretion, impatience. A moment of time, of memory, preserved, internalized and enshrined within and upon the body. You need not be told that these records are what render your beloved beautiful. If God exists, He is there, in the small cast-off pieces, rough and random and no two alike.”

Beauty, then, has nothing to do with age, or position, or value, or perfection. Beauty lies in the ability to look fearlessly at your own broken spots, mend them and make a new creation. Beauty comes when you allow others to know you for exactly who you are — chipped, cracked, fractured — and whole despite your broken places.