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!
“don’t eat the yellow snow,”
I saw this golden piece of advice written on a postcard and chuckled to myself at how childish and ridiculous it was.
seeing how I’m currently galivanting through the Baltics at sub zero temperatures, that indeed sounded like pertinent advice.
I filed it for later use.
every once in a while I’d see a dog walking through the snow and, as if Pavlov himself had conditioned me, I remembered to giggle.
“don’t eat the yellow snow,”
bwah!
today I boarded a ferry that washed me away from cold and dark Helsinki to cold and dark Tallinn.
I’ve had spiced mulled wine and hot chocolate with Baileys,
I’ve carried half my body weight on my back for most of the day and am now sat in my hotel room, overlooking a frozen river who’s name I can’t pronounce, listening to my partner’s rhythmic snoring, thinking about yellow snow…
most of my life I’ve been trying to convince myself of some deeper truth, when there wasn’t one.
we’re all different the same way,
navigating many competing obligations and distractions,
living through each other’s point of view because we fear not being accepted,
explaining, understanding and justifying everything in order to feel safe and important.
and yet, all we want is to know that it’s going to be alright in the end.
lighten up, it’s not that deep.
just don’t eat the yellow snow.
I’ll see you tomorrow.
today is day 8 of the year, there are 357 days remaining of 2022.
congratulations! you made it through another
year,
12 months,
52 weeks,
365 days,
8,760 hours,
525,600 minutes,
31,536,000 seconds.
buckle up,
today is day 1 of the year, there are 364 days remaining of 2023.
I’ll see you tomorrow.
if you’ve ever been to Mexico City, there’s a high chance you’ve visited at least one official mercado,
and an even higher chance of having stumbled, quite literally, into heaps of unofficial ones.
you’ll see food stalls, improvised barbershops, tattoo shops and regular shops in makeshift tents, aggressively selling their products and services.
you’ll see 6 year olds selling candy to 5 year olds, right next to an abuelita making tlacoyos while her son’s polishing a policeman ego shoes…
anything you could possibly want, but probably don’t need, can be found a blanket or two away.
as a marketer, I love outdoor markets,
the smells, the haggling, the energy…
I love people watching.
(unless I’m with my partner, in which case I’m busy watching the wallet)
markets have a way of cutting through pretense and getting down to the bare bones of human psychology…
you have what I want (money)
I have what you want (product)
let’s trade…
“good quality, unique, hand made!”
“best price in the market!”
“buy two, get one free!”
“no wait, come back, I’ll make you a special offer”
if this sounds awfully similar to the ads you see online, that’s because… it is.
market-ing is no different to marketing.
we may have traded markets for websites, brands for vendors and clicks for conversations, but eager eyeballs are still eyeballs, whether you’re looking at a carefully designed ad on Facebook or a perfectly cut, juicy watermelon at a fruit stall.
how are incessant pop-ups different to market vendors belting out their discounts?
how are the learn more’s, click me’s and buy now’s, different to the people shouting over each other to get your attention in a bazaar?
for someone to buy, someone else needs to sell.
for someone to buy, product information needs to be made available, somehow.
it’s a collective agreement we’ve had since the beginning of trade.
so why does it feel like it’s too much all of the sudden?
is advertising really getting increasingly more aggressive? or is the marketplace expanding?
has capitalism rotten us to our core? or is technology making these practices more obvious?
is behavioral retargeting an invasion of privacy or a necessary evil?
was Jack really unable to hold on to the door? or was Rose purposefully floating away?
the whole premise behind these brain pickings was to share my (sometimes passionate) opinions, not so that you inherit my conclusions wholesale, but rather so that you think, perhaps more critically, about the future of technology and how it impacts our buying behavior.
most days, I believe the marketing bubble is about to burst, but today? today I’m happy I got some black friday shopping done.
I’ll see you tomorrow.
today is day 333 of the year, there are 32 days remaining of 2022.
novelty at each turn of a corner:
new people, new language, new nature, new climate, new food, new textures, new smells, new problems, new solutions…
I don’t have many early childhood recollections but I suspect this is what I felt like, stumbling out of the house for the first time, with my hand tightly latching on to my mom’s finger, ready to explore the world…
a lot has happened this past month, and just to name a few:
- I spent two nights in a stilt house in the middle of nowhere, just so that I could run a jungle race,
- I almost got stomped on by a water buffalo,
- I paid a H’mong boy to be my hiking guide going up Phan Si Păng Mountain (the tallest in Indochina – my ego compels me to mention)
- I am actually driving a scooter in the madness that is Saigon traffic,
- I unearthed a love for coconut jelly, that is slowly evolving into an obsession,
- I became a plant mom,
- I spent 20 minutes in Cambodia,
- and I’m singlehandedly racking up Google Translate’s cloud hosting bill.
currently I’m sat cross-legged on a violently blue sofa, peering at the smog through my apartment’s window, trying to spot the skyscrapers built around Sài Gòn River;
in theory, I know they’re supposed to be in my direct line of sight,
in reality, today is one of those dusty yellow sky days, much like yesterday, and the day before that.
a price you must be fine paying when living in Ho Chi Minh.
I’ve always proudly painted myself as a traveler, a person of culture and exposure, and yet, when given a cup and a bucket of water, I was confused as to how I’m supposed to use them to bathe myself,
I was even more confused by everyone’s roaring laughter when I bolted out of the bathroom, screaming bloody murder after having seen a giant walking-stick cruising on the walls (google this insect with caution)
a culture so far from my own, that has no qualms with 10x’ing the price of a t-shirt because I’m so clearly white and I must be waking up every morning to give that good ol’ money tree a strong shake; a fool and her money…
much like yourself, I focus on my strengths because I want to live in my glory, and as easy as it may be to sit here, full of self importance and judgment on society, what do I know?
my palms are too soft, clothes are too clean, nails too polished.
what privilege of me to think of it as a lapse in morals;
placed in their shoes, would I so confidently sit on my high horse? not so sure.
I work off my laptop in an air conditioned room,
I pay 15 cents for a fresh coconut,
and the biggest question permeating my brain this morning is whether I should go to the gym first and then to the pool, or vice versa.
you’ll only be able to see how something really is, when you have no expectations of how it should be; an impossible feat, of course, but I do think it’s important to at least try to think outside our lived experiences and allow ourselves to be moved by our surroundings without arrogance and cynicism.
they say we are more blind to what we have than to what we have not,
and I believe them.
I’ll see you tomorrow.
today is day 311 of the year, there are 54 days remaining of 2022.
I run.
not so much that it overtakes my life,
and certainly not so fast as to merit a seat at the podium,
just enough to be considered a person that runs.
enough to actually enjoy it,
enough to wake up at dawn for a “quick” 10k,
enough to think I can, in fact, catch the bus.
I’ve had this thought many times, and each time it feels like a wake-up.
aside from living,
it is the simplest, and most complex thing I’ve ever done.
one foot in front of the other,
one breath out after another,
one thought in after the other,
imposing its rhythm.
grateful for every step, every breath, every droplet of sweat.
testing the limits of my world,
and yours,
unrushed and unworried,
inhaling and exhaling,
learning the difference between fatigue and pain,
wondering just how far am I willing to go to follow my thoughts.
and just like life,
running has a meaning simply because it has a finish line.
all we have to do is breath.
I’ll see you tomorrow.
today is day 285 of the year, there are 80 days remaining of 2022.
“how are you going to monetize that?” I gave voice to the first thought that came to mind.
“oh, you’re one of those” she said under her breath, as if I had just outed myself to a homophobe.
this micro dialogue took place 4 years ago, at a meet and greet, somewhere in London.
I hadn’t been exposed to the anti-capitalist movement to understand the “those” I was now a part of, but I smiled my smile and carried on to my next 30 second conversation.
in all fairness,
the fact that this artist chose to never show (and subsequently sell) the paintings she spent hours out of her day on, was none of my business,
I was simply wondering how she pays her bills, ’tis all.
“I don’t have a dream job since I don’t dream of labor.” is part of the discourse I see coming out of Gen Z on TikTok.
“I simply want to live my life slowly and lay down in a bed of moss with my lover and enjoy the rest of my existence reading books, creating art, and loving myself and the people in my life.”
I understand not wanting to use work as basis for identity;
I understand not wanting to work in jobs where you are overworked, underpaid and underappreciated,
I even understand working strictly out of financial necessity, with zero interest in the labor itself.
with the “great resignation” and “quiet quitting” now dominating the news cycle, I wonder if this anti-work ethos and public airing of indignation will lead to actual systemic change,
or whether we’ll simply find a way to build a bigger and better mousetrap with every coming generation.
seeing how we’ve experienced two recessions back-to-back, I can’t really blame millennials and Gen Z’ers for wanting to unsubscribe from the girlboss subscription,
I do, however, want to sound the alarm regarding a sister trend, something a little more insidious.
a rising acrimony towards discipline and goal setting.
when you finally stop to question “hustle culture” and quitting the “rat race,” you’re typically so burned out that you develop an aversion towards using any will power, regardless to what end…
you may even look down on people who are disciplined and goal oriented.
because they’re now one of those.
I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to spend my days as the living dead,
I have read books laying on moss beds and can tell you it’s very uncomfortable, especially when you spend more time flicking ants than flipping pages.
I’m going to prove to you that you can live a soft life and still be disciplined, if that’s something you’re into, of course.
what does a life without goals realistically look like?
hours of screen time a day, body aches from lack of movement, social and intellectual disengagement…
when I wake up at stupid o’clock to go on my runs, I carry more than my body weight, I carry my hopes and dreams, fears and failures.
I carry my discipline.
when I budget my quarterly expenses I make sure to factor in trips to faraway lands and once in a lifetime experiences,
when I sit at my keyboard, I strive to do work I find meaningful,
and herein lies the problem,
using discipline to achieve goals that are not in line with your self is taking the fast train to an identity crisis.
I rarely do things that don’t directly aid my goals in these 5 areas:
health, relationships, career & mission, finances, contribution & meaning.
goals that are consistent with my own deep inner thoughts,
goals that build on my idea of success and bring me deep inner satisfaction.
my ever-growing bucket list ensures that I squeeze the most out of my time between adolescence and menopause,
anything else is gravy.
with very clearly defined yes’s and no’s, I can always listen to my own voice.
I can say with great ease that all of my time and attention are spoken for, so please do not ask for them.
(unless both our goals overlap)
I’m doing this not because I’m a “slave to capitalism,” not for internet points or other needs of social validation.
I hope you’re doing this, for you too.
I’ll see you tomorrow.
today is day 273 of the year, there are 92 days remaining of 2022.