Welcome to Issue 24 of A Good Reputation, a newsletter about a good brand move that helped grow a small business. (Did someone send you? Subscribe here.) Hello Reader, I was singing to myself in the kitchen the other day when my daughter walked in and says, “Mom, you have such a pretty voice when you’re not trying.” “Thanks?” I respond. It’s the same thing Tyler, my partner, tells me as we attempt to play music together before reaching over to pour me another glass of wine to loosen me up. It’s not that I want to sing professionally. I just want to...I don't know...feel confident enough to belt out a tune without second-guessing myself. I want to tap into something vulnerable and unpolished—a part I hold onto too tightly. But the harder I try to “sound good,” the more my voice cracks and falls off-key. I’ve been learning (or attempting to learn) a lot of new things lately, and this theme keeps cropping up. Last Thursday, for instance, I took my very first pottery class, and—let me tell you—Patrick Swayze makes it look way easier than it is. If you’ve ever worked on a pottery wheel, you know the first lesson isn’t about creating something beautiful. It’s about getting “the feel” for working with the materials. Your goal is to learn how to hold your hands and apply just the right amount of pressure to center the clay before you can start sculpting. My first few attempts went surprisingly well. (For a newbie.) I managed to center the clay and form something vaguely cup-like. But then, I got ahead of myself. I decided I needed to perfect it. To get it right. To make something that looked like what my teacher—who’s been at it for over a decade, mind you—could create in just a few slick hand movements. And that’s when everything started to fall apart. One lump of clay literally flew off my wheel and into my neighbor’s lap. (She was nice enough about it.) “What’s the trick?” I asked my teacher, desperate for a shortcut. “There is no trick,” he said. “You just have to practice until you get the feeling.” “Just…,” he added, “Stop trying so hard.” Right. A Good LessonThis phrase has been echoing in my head all week because I keep seeing this pattern everywhere. When I talk to clients and peers—and take a good, hard look at myself—I notice how much we’re all desperate to skip the messy middle. We want to be good at something now. Have our businesses all figured out, our positioning nailed, and our offers crystal clear. We want the world to see us as skilled, successful, and polished—before we’ve actually put in the practice or truly understood the materials (a.k.a the audience and our goals) we’re working with. But maybe—just maybe—we’re holding ourselves back by holding on too tightly to the outcome. Trying too hard to make something sound or look perfect before we understand the mechanics of how it all needs to come together. And the harder we try to control the outcome by trying to plan and strategize and force and framework our way through the messy middle, the more we miss the point. What if, instead, we started embracing—and showing up as—the work in progress that we all are? A Good TakeawayWhen it comes to storytelling and building your brand (or learning anything new), embracing the learning curve and sharing the process is, I think, the biggest strategic advantage we can give ourselves. It starts with being okay with the fact that you don’t have it figured out—yet. With storytelling and brand-building especially, perfection should never be the goal. And that's because the most impactful stories aren’t polished—they’re honest. Here’s what I was reminded of from my kitchen, the wheel, and my work this week:
Like anything, storytelling works the same way. The more you practice, the more intuitive it becomes. To that end, why not try sharing a small, imperfect story tomorrow? What’s one moment from last week or last year that shaped your thinking and led to a lesson your audience cares about? From here on out, I’ll be sharing more of the things that'll help you capture the raw materials you need and shape them into stories your audience cares about. But I wanted to start here because I know that if you try to force it, you (like me) might suffer from trying too hard instead of allowing the process to teach you. And just like all the weirdo pottery pieces I’m creating now, remember it’s okay to make a lot of ugly things before you get something beautiful. A Few Good Resources
Hope you have a good one, |