Your mama probably warned you that not everybody’s going to like you, and there’s no point in trying.
So often, though, we water down our point of view, we go for the subjects that (we think) have the broadest appeal, we try to play it safe. We’ve been trained to find safety in numbers, so that’s what we aim for: Facebook fans and ‘friends’ and Twitter followers, the more the merrier.
By trying to win over everybody, you win over nobody.
Go for mass appeal and chances are you’ll end up alone.
‘Everybody’ doesn’t exist anymore.
This is the overriding point that Seth Godin makes in his new book, We Are All Weird. There used to be a bell curve of ‘normal’, a.k.a. ‘the masses’, and then a handful of freaky outlier types to either side.
Then something happened. click for more
“Every day is a journey, and the journey itself is home.” — Basho
Common wisdom has it that first, you form your vision.
Then, you break it down.
You reverse-engineer a roadmap of goals and milestones that will take you from point Z to point A.
You become a man, or a woman, with a plan.
But any plan rests on a boatload of assumptions – about yourself, about the future, about the world around you – that may or may not be true. A lot of those assumptions are about things that are not within your control.
It could be that you fail to achieve your vision because it was never achievable in the first place. click for more
I had a question for Ashley Sinclair (of Self-Activator). I wanted to know my why, as a writer and as a person.
Or rather, I wanted to put my why into words. Because I can feel it in me when I write from that ‘emotional sweetspot’. Everything aligns: my purpose, values, work, audience.
But you can’t communicate your why – the Big Meaning that drives you and your content – with just a gut feeling.
So I wanted a different kind of clarity. I wanted words.
Later, I did some reading and learned that your why is rooted in the limbic part of your brain. It’s the part that deals with emotions – and it’s nonverbal, delivering information in feelings and hunches.
When your why meshes with someone else’s limbic why, magic happens. click for more
The two most seductive people I know ended up engaged to each other. One night they started arguing about who seduced whom. Jordan came to my house and said, “You know how I always had this prescient feeling about him, that we’d end up together? And I couldn’t figure out if I was being psychic or cocky?”
“Uh-huh.” Jordan is so intuitive and tuned into people that it can be downright eerie. She’s also totally cocky, at least about some things (ie: men).
“Because the first couple of times we hung out, I just felt like we had a way of connecting, you know? Which made me realize how attractive he is.”
I did know this. Adrian had broken up with someone and Jordan didn’t want to date him until he played the field a bit (or, as she put it, “slept with some models and gotten that out of his system”). For almost a year, they click for more
tomorrow we shall return you to your regular programming
“Look Mom,” says Jacob, my six year old, “look what I found.” And he shows me the toy stuffed tiger, not much larger than the size of his hand. It’s the perfect size for our Yorkshire terrier to grab up in his jaws and trot around with self-importantly, before abandoning beside the pool or under the lemon tree. Maybe the toy hunkered down to its own mysterious life, prowling the grasses of our backyard jungle, ears perked, tail twitching, until Jacob came across it.
“Look Mom,” he says, and he walks the tiger along the edge of the kitchen table. The sunlight slashes through the window blinds, lies stripes of shadow along Jacob’s tanned arm. “He’s wild,” Jacob says “a wild thing, and no one can tame him, and no one should try.” The tiger reaches the end of the table and Jacob makes him jump down onto a chair.
“They’re endangered, you know.” He’s so intent on prowling the tiger along the armrest that I pluck at his orange t-shirt to get his attention. “There aren’t many tigers left in the wild.” click for more
You go to Burning Man.
Your friend Julia, who has never been, asked if you would go and you said, “Yes,” thinking it was way too last-minute, not thinking that a day or so later Julia would text that she has two of the sold-out, impossible-to-get tickets, and then texting again with two places in an RV.
Julia is a journalist with a vast social network. You have to be careful saying “yes” to such people. click for more
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