I’m learning to belly dance.
Okay, that’s totally overstating it. I’m wiggling to music in what is labeled a belly dancing class.
I’ve found that I enjoy the constant movement, manipulating my limbs and taking any excuse I can to be silly. But more fun than the belly dancing is the instructor.
I’ve found it just doesn’t pay to crow too much about what I’ve accomplished.
Sure, I celebrate when things go well. But I’ve found that talking too much about my achievements leads not only to criticism, but to disappointment.
There’s always going to be someone who’s done more or worked harder. And until they carve my name into the side of the moon, I see no reason in puffing myself up. The minute you get a big head is the same minute that reality smacks you and you realize that you aren’t as cool as you think you are.
So self-adulation is something I try to stay away from. But self promotion? That’s a whole different story.
I remember hearing a factoid a while back that said that your income is destined to become the average of the five people you spend the most time with.
At the time, that bothered me. Outside of my family, I was hanging out with some folks who weren’t exactly rolling in dough. So to me, this factoid said:
Sure, there are still some iconic brands. Apple, Nike, Coke.
But those are giant companies. They go by different rules.
For the rest of us mortals, does the traditional idea of a brand — an iconic emotional shortcut that lets customers identify with a product — make any sense anymore?
Won’t smart, lean, agile little companies eat the big, lazy brands up?
After all, a village business doesn’t need a brand, right?
This blogging and social media thing is easy, right?
Set yourself up with a free blog, have something you want to post about and off you go. Tweet about it, hook into Facebook and you’re flying. As easy as baking candy.
Do you ever wish you could just tell someone to “shut the **** up?”
But really, you just wish they would shut their freaking mouth.
