brain pickings are are short and actionable advice on marketing, productivity and humaning. I write them daily'ish, sometimes insightful, sometimes personal, always humurous. happy scrolling!
omne trium perfectum
she, he, they
birth, life, death
beginning, middle, end
past, present, future
mind, body, soul
red, yellow, blue
gold, silver, bronze,
first, second, third
art, science, religion
father, son, holy spirit
shiva, vishnu, brahma,
oak, ash, thorn
hip, hip, hooray!
going once, going twice… SOLD!
if at first you don’t succeed, always remember…
third time’s a charm.
I’ll see you tomorrow.
today is day 182 of the year, there are 183 days remaining of 2022.
more than high-end luxury items,
or extremely specific niche products,
or poorly reviewed, cheap commodities,
the hardest thing to sell, by and large is… prevention.
regardless of how problem (or solution) aware the prospect is, selling the cure has always been easier and more profitable than selling prevention, why?
- seeking instant gratification is a classic
humananimal trait if ever there was one - temporal and reward uncertainty – am I really going to obtain pleasure (lose weight, get a raise) if I go through perceived pain (eat less, exercise, take on this project) in X time?
professionally? I’ve never been mad at impulse buyers in my life (especially the kind that don’t ask for refunds)
personally? I’ve been navigating my life based on this one aphorism I’ve learned from John Williamson:
short term pleasure = long term pain
short term pain = long term pleasure
when in doubt, always choose good fuel for your engine.
and if you ever find yourself in a position in which you have to sell prevention, whether to yourself or to others,
ask yourself this:
“what is the financial and emotional cost that I will pay if I let things continue the way they have and don’t change?”
then list out the consequences…
I’ll see you tomorrow.
today is day 181 of the year, there are 184 days remaining of 2022.
I talk…
a bit too much,
(or a lot of bit, depending on who’s asking.)
from a very young age, the force and plentitude of sounds that would come rushing out of my mouth the second I’d barge home from school, would never cease to amaze my parents (and their, now sensitive, ear canals…)
fast forward 3 decades and, to this day, talking remains my main indulgence, a weakness I’ve consciously chosen to embrace.
much like a dieter who wishes to continue eating their favorite foods but is compelled to find a healthier alternative,
I too, had reached a compromise
I wouldn’t talk less,
but I’d talk better
I’d pay attention to cues,
I’d make it about them,
I’d educate and entertain…
but most importantly, I’d listen,
I’d become a storyteller;
and of the many labels sewed on me, this one’s my favorite.
it’s a life skill I’ve brought with me to work,
every time I write copy, I imagine taking the reader out on a walk…
we’d start with the promise of an easy, relaxing walk, surrounded by gorgeous scenery, to which most people agree to.
the more complex and boring my words grow into, the faster and more difficult the trail becomes.
with my mind’s eye, I visually draw an image of them having to duck under tree branches, sky’s pelting them with rain, a steep incline is visible in the distance…
and unless my avatar is a fan of Spartan races, they won’t last on my imaginary trail very long.
expecting the viewer to make an effort to understand your offer is one of biggest mistakes I see brands make…
storytellers have figured out how to keep an audience’s attention for hours, it’s not so much the length, but the clarity and resonance of your message that makes you heard.
in a world full of beautiful trails, make sure yours isn’t put on mute.
I’ll see you tomorrow.
today is day 180 of the year, there are 185 days remaining of 2022.
it is such a profoundly earthly desire to love and feel loved in return.
to love is to feel stronger and weaker all at once,
both hopeful and cynical,
lost and found.
it’s in this chaotic choreography of conflicts that I think lays the most beautiful type of love…
the kind that is deeply connected and protective of each other’s otherness,
free of manipulation and expectations,
free of noise and performance,
the kind of love that grounds you even when your world is shifting.
something that combines such maturity and naiveté is nothing short of human.
so hard and yet,
so easy.
I’ll see you tomorrow.
today is day 179 of the year, there are 186 days remaining of 2022.
“do what you have to, but don’t make it salesy”
salesy.
as someone that’s worked in marketing for over 10 years, this is a very familiar sound to my ears.
especially coming from new clients,
typically said with a very strong sense of (misplaced) righteousness.
we learn to navigate such comments because we know that what the client actually means to say is…
sell it, but don’t make it look like you’re trying.
sell it, but don’t be inauthentic.
sell it, but don’t do it too well.
and what they really, really, really mean to say is…
sell it, but don’t lie.
sell it, but don’t make me look bad.
sell it, but don’t be needy, pushy or bitchy.
ah! well that is a completely different word to salesy.
selling brings clients.
not new colors, not features, not fairy dust,
selling.
we sell, ALL the time.
most of the time we sell ourselves, our values and opinions.
and if you really do think, that your thing is going to be the thing that can move the needle for someone, it is then your moral obligation to sell.
I’ll see you tomorrow.
today is day 178 of the year, there are 187 days remaining of 2022.
there are so many things our bodies do, that we take for granted…
until, of course, it’s no longer capable of doing the thing.
it’s even worse when the thing is integral to keeping us alive.
from the heart that conveniently pumps blood, to the skin that effortlessly protects our insides from the outsides.
anxiety literally took my breath away…
which sucked, because it’s something I’ve really enjoyed doing for as long as I can remember.
seemingly overnight, I had found myself in a world in which to breathe meant to be able to choke.
I’ve survived days unable to remove myself from the security of my bed, convinced that should I do so, I would forcibly collapse to the ground, from lack of oxygen…
…immediately followed by days in which I’d run multiple 10k’s as if I had forgotten that I could indeed, just walk.
a breath, never the same,
and never again taken for granted.
next time you breathe, take a deep one.
I’ll see you tomorrow.
today is day 177 of the year, there are 188 days remaining of 2022.