Hi, I’m Kristy Swanson, Chief Catalyst and Velvet Hammer here at BrightWorks Coaching.  Glad you stopped in! I have some great events coming this fall, including The Small Biz (re)Boot Camp and Eat The Frog!   You can always find  information on my coaching services here, and some good reading on the blog.  And of course, you can contact me here when you’re ready to hire me.  Just sayin’.

The Value of A Clear Vision

When I owned my salon, one of the best lessons I ever learned was the value of having a vision and a plan for my business. I did not start out with much of one.  In fact, for the first few years, I just flew by the seat of my pants, without any kind of actual plan.  Well, I suppose this was the plan: “Let’s open a salon!  A really cool one!  With really talented people!  And awesome clients!  And we can be all artsy and creative and it’ll be great!”

In some ways, it worked fine…sort of.  I mean, it WAS a cool salon, and we DID have really great people, both staff and clients.  And we got a bunch of press and publicity and business without really trying too much. We grew big, pretty fast.

But somehow, we ended up with all kinds of things going on that we never anticipated.  Things to which we said “sure, why not?” when presented with the opportunity.  Things that, in retrospect, were pretty stupid to take on (espresso bar? Sure! Valet parking? Okay! Twice as much square footage as you planned for?  Sure, we’ll figure out a way to use it!). Note to others:  I do not recommend using “sure, why not? as a standard way of making business decisions.

To add to the situation, my staff wanted to know where we were heading.  They wanted a clear picture of what we were all about as a business, what we stood for, what we were working toward as a team, and why any of it mattered.  They wanted leadership.  They wanted a clear vision that they could get on board with.

And I didn’t have a very good answer.  I just knew that I was a person who was tired of working in someone else’s salon, and figured I could do it better than the guy I was working for, so why not start my own business.  How hard could it be, right?  Isn’t that enough of a vision?

Turns out, no, it’s not enough. It’s not enough to just want to have your own gig.  It’s not enough because things are going to get hard, for you and for anyone you work with, and if you don’t have a clear, compelling reason for the hard work, and a specific, tangible vision of what you’re aiming for, you’ll lose traction pretty quickly. You may even end up spinning your wheels and go nowhere fast.

I’ll skip a bunch of the story, but want to share one big “aha!” moment.  My business was struggling, for a bunch of reasons.  Yet out of the struggle came the impetus to finally do something useful:  hire somebody to come and facilitate an off-site retreat for our staff, to define what we would stand for as a company.  To reconnect as a team.  To get clear about what we wanted to work towards and what we needed to focus on in order to be successful.  And to define what success was really looked like for us, anyway.

As a business owner, it was a major learning experience.  I had never really understood the value of having a clear plan, of knowing what my priorities were, of having clear business values and principles, and having ways to put those into action in my business. And now I had not just a plan—I had a living, breathing tool to help me figure out how to grow and develop the business.

And you know what?  It made a HUGE difference for me as an owner.  Sure, I still worked hard.  Of course, there were still challenges and bumps along the way.  But knowing what I was aiming for and why it mattered helped me stay on track, do the important things, and make better decisions when faced with tough choices.

This is one of the reasons I have created a workshop called The Small Biz (re)Boot Camp this fall–because I want to give small business owners the kind of help I could have used when I was growing my salon.  I see so many people who are in business for themselves, floundering because they don’t have that clear picture of where they’re headed.  They don’t have effective strategies in place, and they need help figuring out a realistic, achievable plan that will bring them the results they are hoping for.  I know what it’s like, I know that it doesn’t have to be that way, and I want to help those people quit struggling and start thriving!

You can find more info here about The Small Biz (re)Boot Camp, and if you know anyone who could benefit from this program please forward this along to them–I really appreciate it!

That’s Not What I Meant!

Have you ever said or done something with the best of intentions, and then been completely misunderstood? Not just misunderstood, but the other party may even have assumed you meant to be rude, inconsiderate, or just plain mean—have you had this experience?

This happened to me today. I didn’t mean to be rude or abrupt, I really didn’t. It’s just that I was in a hurry, and this person was in my way. So I said in my direct manner (without much thought to it) “can you move please? I need to use this space”. Perfectly innocent, just asking for what I needed, or so I thought. Because apparently what the other person heard was “move your fat ass, sweetheart”. And I was completely oblivious to the fact that my seemingly benign request landed so poorly on my target, who remarked to a nearby observer that I had been rude, aggressive, and generally disagreeable to them, and was possibly even INTENTIONALLY bitchy.

YIKES! Talk about a communication breakdown. I think I’m just being direct, and they think I’m intentionally being mean.

Welcome to the murky world of what you say versus how it comes across—and one of the easiest and most likely places to have a communication breakdown—also known as intention vs. impact.

Here’s how it works: when I say or do something, I generally know my own intentions behind it at some level. I have a reason for saying what I say, and usually I know what it is. For example, in the story above my intention was pretty basic: communicate my needs. I needed to use the space, and she was in it.

The rub is, you don’t know my intentions behind those words or actions—you must make a guess about my intentions from the impact that my words or actions have on you. This means that if I say something and your feelings are hurt, it’s quite possible that you may wonder “did you mean to hurt me?” So again, in the above story, she was quite put out and interpreted my words as rude or inconsiderate.

I see this all the time in relationships, whether business or personal. You know those times when you find yourself saying things like “that’s not what I meant” or “you don’t get it”? Probably a case of intention vs. impact in action.

I’m an optimist and maybe a bit naïve—I do believe that most of us, for the most part, have decent intentions. We want to do the right thing, we want to be honest, we want to play fair. (Okay, there are a few people who I have doubts about. Let’s ignore those people for now.)

But sometimes our best intentions can still have a harsh impact on others. For example, an attempt at self-protection can look, to the other person, like an outright attack. Direct feedback can feel like a character slaying. How things look on my side of the equation is completely different from how it looks from your side, and even though I may mean well, my behavior can land really, terribly wrong from your perspective. And from your perspective, because what I said or did hurt, offended, or angered, you may question my motives, or even make the jump to “knowing” that I am just a callous, thoughtless person with ulterior sinister motives.

What to do, what to do?

When I am coaching people about improving their communication skills, one of the skills we work on is to do what I call “lead with intention”. This means that when it makes sense to do so, set the stage with the other person or people first about WHY you are saying what you are about to say. Let them know “this is what I am hoping to accomplish by telling you this” in whatever words fit for you, before you deliver the message.

Here’s how this might look in practice: you are the boss, and have to give some tough feedback to an employee. Rather than just jumping right in and telling them how you want them to improve, begin by letting them know why you are about to give them the message that’s coming. “Bubba, I have some feedback I’d like to share with you. I’m doing this because I think you have lots of potential with this company, and my intention is to help you reach that potential, even when it means I might have to give you constructive criticism from time to time.” Intention is clear. Now, go ahead with your message.

What you are doing is being transparent about why you are saying what you are saying, rather than leaving it up to the receiver to guess at your intentions. You are proactively helping them look for a good intention rather than a bad one (assuming that you really mean well).

While few things are fool-proof, learning to signal your intentions before you speak can go a long way towards making sure the message you intend for them to hear is the message they receive.

What about you? How do you deal with a miscommunication?

In The Spotlight: Jodie Masiwchuk and Suburban Sarah

One of the coolest things about what I do is that I get to meet all kinds of great people doing really awesome stuff.  People who have a gift, a talent, or a passion, and are using it to make their own unique difference in the world.  And I decided that I want to introduce some of these people to you, because regardless of the path they are on, they have insights and wisdom and stories to share that have been inspiring and resonant for me.  I hope you’ll enjoy meeting them!

So, without further ado, (drumroll please) allow me to introduce Jodie Masiwchuck, creator of Suburban Sarah and author of Never Underestimate The Power Of A Bouquet of Dandelions. (wild applause!)

So, Jodie, tell me a little bit about Suburban Sarah.

Suburban Sarah is a comic strip that focuses on the day-to-day life of a modern woman. For years, I’ve thought about creating a comic strip. Life seemed to always get in the way of this, but in reality, it prepared me for exactly what I feel I was meant to do. After studying art in college, I worked for a graphic design agency, but have always had a love of writing and an appreciation for all things funny. All of this experience brought me to this point, one where I feel I can lift people up through comedy, art and words—the comic strip.

What do you want people to get from your work?

I think a simple laugh, a nod in agreement, it’s really as simple as that. I will, on occasion do an editorial strip, but my primary goal first and foremost has been to focus on the humor of day-to-day life. What surprises me is the amount of notes and e-mails I receive from readers who relate to the strip. When you’re tied to a drawing board, any feedback is greatly appreciated and I always make a point to write back. I received an e-mail from a mom who has four children and is battling cancer. This woman—who is basically fighting for her life—took the time to write to me and tell me how she looks forward to the strip and it really does bring a bright spot to her day. When you receive validation like that, you know you’re doing exactly what you were created to do.

What is your biggest challenge as an artist?

The marketing and distribution, hands down. It would be wonderful to simply draw and create all day long, but much of this business is 90% marketing and 10% creation. The vice president of a highly regarded syndicate recently called my work “remarkably clever and appealing.” A tremendous compliment, but it’s very hard for the syndicates to sign on new talent because of the marketplace for comic strips. Even popular, well-liked strips can be dropped from papers—making it difficult for a newcomer. This forces me to try and come up with new ways to market what I feel, is a wonderful, important, and needed form of artistic expression. I’m convinced that there are more outlets for comic strips and have been working to discover them. Comic strips were originally created to help sell newspapers, but they are also a unique form of art. Because of this they can be marketed as such and make a natural fit for a signed print, greeting card or a collection in a book.

What does success look like to you?

Of course it’s wonderful and humbling when someone actually buys your product and it’s always a thrill when I see the strip printed in a newspaper. But those things aside, success for me can also be as simple as getting a smile or a laugh out loud from someone who has read the strip. At a recent art show, a man stopped to read a strip, he smiled, then called his wife over to have a look at it. I consider that a success.

What brings you joy?

Simple things. Sandy beaches, the cat napping on the bed, watching my kid whack a baseball and the pride I see in his face afterwards, and of course, drawing the strip. I have scraps of paper all over my house, car and inside my purse with ideas that are just waiting to be brought to life on paper.

If you knew you couldn’t fail, what would you be working towards?

So many things…I would love to have my own storefront and studio space, maybe a place where other cartoonists could display their work as well. In order to keep it lively and dynamic I would offer different types of art classes to kids and adults.

What words of wisdom or advice do you have for other self-employed women?

  • Believe in your work and develop a thick skin. I think so many women have doubts or engage in self-sabotage, they think they’re too old to start something new, or the “what will people think” thoughts come into play. Sometimes the transparency and honesty of the strip makes me feel a little uncomfortable because it is so personal, but I think if you take that away, you remove the very thing in which people can relate to. It helps to surround yourself with people who have similar goals and will support you. Simply ignore those who don’t.
  • Be persistent. I heard some tremendous advice about a year ago and I’ll never forget it. Ask once, ask twice, and ask again. If someone says no, find someone who will say yes. Few people are an overnight success, and most who appear to be have worked for years to get to where they are. There is a cartoonist I know who took ten years before he was syndicated, that’s a tremendous amount of persistence.
  • Be patient. I tried my hand at cartooning a few years ago when my child was about two years old–I couldn’t do it. The timing wasn’t right and my husband was traveling all the time. Once my son started kindergarten, my world opened up. If you have the desire to create or start your own business, that drive and ambition doesn’t just go away because the baby needs to be changed or you’re sitting cross-eyed at a job you despise. Take small bites out of what seem to be insurmountable projects, and eventually, you’ll get there.

Ever Want to Fire A Client? Read On.

I had to fire a client the other day. Man, I hate it when that happens—and I could have prevented it from the start.

Has this ever happened to you? Have you ever worked with someone who made your heart sink every time you saw her name on your caller ID? Who you knew from the get-go was going to be a problem child? A client who gave you that gut feeling of “NO” but you said to yourself, “well, I really need the business, so…”

One of the things I really advocate with my self-employed clients is one of the Best Practices of being self-employed: Work with the kind of clients you love working with. Let someone else take care of the others. And if you currently have some of those others, the ones you don’t love working with? Set them free to find other people to do business with.

I mean, really. There are a lot of risks involved with being self-employed: for example, there is no guaranteed salary. No company-paid health insurance. No unemployment benefits. Paid vacation? Puh-leeeze.

But there are very good reasons why a lot of people become self-employed, and one of the biggest is this:

YOU GET TO WORK WITH THE KIND OF PEOPLE YOU REALLY, REALLY LIKE…as long as you set yourself up that way.

That’s right: you don’t have to work with everyone. In fact, you probably shouldn’t. Michael Port likes to call it the “red velvet rope” policy: your business, and the clientele you work with, should be like an exclusive club, and only the “right” people get to come in. And guess what? As the business owner, as the provider of goods and services, YOU are the bouncer who gets to decide who’s in and who’s out.

See, when you work with people you love, it creates an upward spiral: you do your best work because you love working with them, they get amazing work from you and are so happy they tell their friends (who, typically, are more of the right people—like attracts like, right?) and everyone stays happy, satisfied, and loving what you do. Including you.

You have the opportunity and maybe even the obligation when you’re self-employed to create your work to be exactly how you want it. That means if you only want to work Monday through Friday, then turn down offers of weekend jobs. If you hate cold calling, then find different, more you-friendly strategies for making sales. And if you really love working with a particular kind of person, or really dislike working with other kinds, then get that velvet rope in place and use it from the start.

I know it’s hard to turn down potential business, especially when it involves short-term gain (read: income, baby). So I’ll say it again in a slightly different way: one of the perks of working for yourself is that YOU GET TO CHOOSE WHO YOU WILL DO BUSINESS WITH. And I say you owe it to yourself and your business to do just that.

What about you—what’s your red velvet rope policy?

Life Lessons Courtesy of Stella the Cat

Yesterday pretty much sucked. My sweet cat, Stella, had run through 9.7 of her 9 lives, and it was time to let her go. And as anyone who has loved a pet knows, even when it’s the best thing you can do for them and we all wish we could die that way, with a nice big injection of happy drugs, it still is one big cry fest. So this post today is in tribute of my little hairball kitty, and what she taught me about life.

Lesson one: Don’t be afraid to go for it, even if it means crashing and burning a few times before you get it right. Case in point: Stella was trying to chase a fly, and the fly just kept insisting on hovering higher and higher, out of reach. At one point, it was right on the ceiling, and the only way to get close was for her to jump from the low coffee table up about six feet to the top of the nearby armoire. First jump, she completely miscalculated, missed the landing and tumbled back down all the way to the floor. Undeterred, she tried again. Close, but no cigar. (Of course, meanwhile I was watching my armoire get tattooed by her claws. Eek. I was also laughing my head off, because she was so determined!) Finally, she took a slightly different angle on the leap and nailed it—and got her fly. I was rolling on the floor, laughing to tears—and also pretty darn impressed by her sheer will. I made a note to myself: If you don’t fall once in awhile, you’re not trying hard enough.

Lesson Two: Be the squeaky wheel–ask for what you want. And if you don’t get it right away—ask LOUDER. Now, normally, Stella wasn’t much of a talker. She had her greeting meow, the bird-watching chatter noise, and the occasional general comment meow, but typically didn’t just sit there and want to talk with you. Unless. Unless you had something that she wanted. For example, Stella was for some reason particularly fond of licking up the water left in the shower stall after I had been in there, which always seemed odd because it’s not like she lacked access to fresh water. But no, the shower drips were apparently the best, and she wanted in. I would be in the shower, and she would sit on the window sill meowing, getting louder and more insistent the longer I was in there. By the time I would get out, she was practically yelling at me—“GET OUT, I want to lick up the water dribbles! NOOOOOOWWWW!” And you know what, it worked. So maybe the moral of the story isn’t just to be the squeaky wheel, it’s to keep asking until you annoy someone enough that they give you what you’re asking for.

Lesson Three: Some of life’s best things are pretty darn simple. Like toys: as a pet owner, there are a bazillion fancy doodads, accessories, and accoutrements you can buy for your cat. You can get fancy cat beds, special electric chase toys, homemade, homegrown organic catnip mice, litter boxes that clean themselves, water bowls that are more like a water fountain for those cats who like running water (actually, I do want one of these for my other cat, Ruby, who adores drinking straight out of the tap). The funny thing is, for Stella, she didn’t really give a hoot about how fancy something was—she really went for the simple, the basic. Organic catnip? Meh. Expensive kitty bed? Nah, she’d rather sleep in the linen closet on top of a stack of towels. And her favorite toy? A tangled wad of old curling ribbon left over from one Christmas. I swear, that thing was her best friend. She’d roll on it, rub her head on it, sometimes get herself tangled up in it—and ignore all the other fancy expensive toys I had purchased. As she kept demonstrating, the best things in life are pretty simple. Also on her list: naps, a warm patch of sun, the taste of fresh grass, a good hearty backrub, an occasional snuggle. Simple. And so, so satisfying.

I know there’s more I learned from her, and maybe the biggest one is this: Letting a loved one go is incredibly painful. Yet the joy I have had in my life from having her in it is multitudes greater—the laughs, the love, the companionship have all been such a rich part of my world, and makes every bit of the pain worth it. Bye, Stella Bella. You will be missed.