Quick notes to help you grow your business in less time with less effort. . . starting next week.
In this issue:
- Thoughts on Checkups
- Being Human
- Random Stuff
Thoughts on Checkups
- Do we smile because we're happy, or are we happy because we smile? I heard this on a cassette tape in an early sales job, and it stuck with me. Research proves it works. Smile at yourself in the mirror for one minute to check it on yourself.
- Not all advice is equal. If you think the advice is rooted in personal taste, feel free to ignore. On the other hand, if you think the advice is from a tested process, go with it.
- In sales, minimizing assumptions is a superpower. The more strategic your salesperson is, the harder it is to keep them from jumping two steps ahead. Encourage methodical communication, and checking anything that seems like an assumption. Ask, "How do we know that for sure?"
- What would happen if you took the afternoon to yourself every day next week? It's worth checking. If not next week, or the week after, try it sometime later this summer.
Being Human - Testing
“Testing is a skill that you can learn. It's more a mindset than a specific process." – Janet Gregory
How will we know it's working?
Opinions set off a little alarm in my brain that sounds like, "bzzz!" This happens because I've learned anecdotal evidence is evidence, but usually suboptimal.
You can listen to a lot of smart people give opinions, but in most cases, quick, small tests will tell us all we need to know. We prefer to work with evidence when deciding on what works best.
Tests tell us which opinions are going to work.
Next week, come up with a way to test an opinion.
Random Stuff
“Undertake something that is difficult; it will do you good. Unless you try to do something beyond what you have already mastered, you will never grow." – Ronald E. Osborn.
During last week's journey to the upper Midwest, ("up Nort" as they say), we spent some time in Minneapolis, Minnesota. Nicknamed, "the city of lakes," we spent time driving around a few big bodies of water. The seasons are changing and they're about a month behind us weather-wise. This meant the people were out and about. Among the walkers, runners, bikers, and someone roller-skiing, were rollerbladers. I was transported back to a time in college when, in an effort to impress a girl, I said I could rollerblade.
It was the late 1980's. Everyone was rollerblading and it looked easy. Certainly learnable. I had rollerskated as a child and thought, I can do this.
I could not do it.
It wasn't terrible, I kind of could move around the lake path, but the girl was like some sort of Olympic level ice skater and had to keep coming back to check on me. What I remember most, besides the bruises where the top of the boot hit my ankles, was sweating profusely. I am a sweaty guy. It was my secret power in high school basketball. One sprint and I was a sopping mess. The coaches would scream, "look at how hard Chambers is working! Step it up!"
Anyway, this reminded me of other instances in my life where I was overconfident in my abilities, for absolutely no reason.
First swimming lesson: Instead of saying I didn't know how to swim, I stood in the demonstration line with my peers, jumped in, flailed about, and had to be life-guarded. I still remember the sensation of water filling up my six-year-old lungs. "Is this how it ends?"
Outrigger canoeing: I did learn to swim and, as part of that, I learned how to kayak and do a kayak roll. When an attractive racer offered me an opportunity to paddle her solo outrigger racer at an event, I said sure. She warned me about capsizing, because getting back into those little tiny things is a challenge, but I went for it. The team cheered as I sped around. On my way back, when I was still way out in the bay, I posed for a picture. Mid shaka, I dumped over. Getting back in proved impossible. I had to swim/tow the canoe back to the dock as they all laughed.
Horse riding English saddle style: I had ridden a trail horse in my summer camp for years, so when a friend and I stopped at his friend's parents' house, a large house with a stable. The rich, attractive young lady, said, "do you ride?" I said, "Yes." She said, "Oh good! Ride our prize-winning jumpers." I flailed. I fell about. I spooked the horse. I wanted to hide for the rest of the summer.
All terribly embarrassing. Most involved trying to impress a girl. Each time, I felt convinced that I'd figure it out along the way. Like when my lovely bride took me water-skiing. It went as you might imagine with me consuming half the lake and scaring local children, but she stuck with me.
All it takes is one.
