Posts tagged innovation
5 creative lessons I’ve learned from my enemy
May 22nd
By Mars Dorian, {grow} Contributing Columnist
Since my early childhood, there has been a guy in my life that I can’t stand.
One day, he beat me up so bad I was crying before the whole Kindergarten. It happened again. And again. Meh.
When I left Kindergarten, I thought I was never going to see my enemy again.
But Lady Luck wanted to play another game with me.
Call it twisted destiny, but we ended up in the same high school. Worse, we even ended up in the same class. The war continued. Don’t get me wrong — he was sharp and creative, but his character and perspective were on the polar opposite of mine. Whenever we met, there was poison in the air, and world views clashed like gigantic Transformers.
But when the school age was over, he finally disappeared from my life.
Until one fine day…
Many years later, I met him on the street again.
Instead of ignoring him, I actually said hello, and we ended up in a coffee shop. Ever since that day, I still occasionally meet up with him. And I hate it every single time.
Huh?
Why would I be doing this? Am I some kind of pain-inflicting freak ?
Maybe, maybe not. The reason I force myself to meet him is because it pushes my boundaries.
In a strange, small way, it helps me write better content, make better products, and create better art.
I think that if you want to be more creative — and we all need to be — we should be willing to push our psychological comfort zones, or we’re going to end up as tomorrow’s online roadkill.
My “enemy” pushes me unlike any other person I know, and allows me to expand my creativity in untold ways.
Lessons I’ve learned from my enemy
1) Everyone’s right, everyone’s wrong.
I used to believe that there’s a right way to do it, and there’s always a wrong way.
A lot of peeps in the blogosphere still seem to think this way, judging from their content … “The only way to…” or,”Why you must…” (include apparent ‘need’ here).
Blah, blah. My “enemy” does a lot of things differently, and still boasts incredible results. He has a following, but he doesn’t use social media. He created a full indie movie and crowdsourced it, without the use of the Internet. The list goes on.
Just when you think you’ve found the “right way,” remember that somewhere on this planet, there’s someone who does the exact opposite and succeeds beyond your wildest dreams.
2) Focus on your competency
My “enemy” is a slow adopter, he doesn’t swoon for new technology.
I’m an ADD crow when it comes to new tools and trends; whenever I see something new and shiny, I want to spend lots of time on it.
But whenever I want to jump on the newest fad, he grabs my shoulder and asks “why?”
Reality check. I often end up using things that waste my time and take me away from my creative process.
Falling victim to trends can lead you far away from your core competency, which can result in ending up in a place you don’t want to be. A lost leaf in the wind.
When the world around you is sprinting in some new direction, it’s better to hold still for a moment and ask yourself: Why? Are you making progress or are you just mindlessly following the masses?
3) Ask for that slap in the face.
Not literally, unless you walk the S&M path. When I ask for feedback, my friends and family always paint honey around my face. It’s well-intended, but useless when it comes to improving my work. But my “enemy” never holds back.
When I show him my work, he engages all weapon systems. Whammo.
Of course, I filter out the useful feedback from the ranting, but it helps me. A lot.
For someone who doesn’t care about offending me, he sees and says things that I’ve never heard before. I get a whole new perspective and improve my upcoming work … by a lot.
Ask people for feedback that don’t care about you. The answer will be brutal, more honest, and most importantly, more helpful.
4) Back up your claims with data. Always.
When I argue with my “enemy,” I lose most of the time. The guy’s BS meter is effective, and whenever he sniffs out my claims that are not backed up with actual data, (ummm, all the time), he deconstructs me like I’m a Lego building.
Like many, I can be a lazy thinker and run on auto-pilot, I may repeat information and opinion snippets from other blog posts and gossip, without EVER checking whether these facts had any validity to begin with. Meh.
Whenever you make an important statement, whether that’s in a speech or in your content, ask yourself whether you can back up it with true knowledge and facts. Somewhere in the audience, there’s an “enemy” with the BS meter running high, and s/he will call you out.
5) What’s good for you is not good for you.
We are comfort-seeking creatures. We want to surround ourselves with like-minded folks who ride the same wavelengths. Good? Bad. It results in a party of puppets — samey, samey thinking that stifles innovation. In order to escape the echo chamber, you must surround yourself with ideas and people you disagree with.
Inspired by my “enemy,” I met up with people from a Christian youth church. They even invited me to their weekly events. I don’t like religion, I never did. So, I had zilch interest in meeting up. But since I love to push my thinking, I accepted the invitation anyways.
The event was … quite an experience. In fact, I visited it multiple times.
I’m still not believing in God, but I do understand the believers much, much better, and I’m stronger for it.
What about you?
I don’t get invited to my enemy’s birthday parties or call him a friend. Never ever.
But I keep meeting up with him, because he pushes me, every single time. Creativity doesn’t just come from things you like, it comes from experiences that push your (psychological) boundaries.
The medicine may taste bitter, but it’s just what the creative patient needs. Is it time to embrace your enemy?
Mars Dorian describes himself as a creative marketeer with a moon-melting passion for human potential and technology. You can follow his adventures at www.marsdorian.com/
Original illustrations by the author.
In praise of the naked business
May 5th
I have a confession to make.
I run my business from a chair. I’m not kidding.
Writing books. Preparing speeches. Blogging. Consulting with companies from all over the world. It all happens right here.
It wasn’t always this way. I have loved having a private, beautiful, quiet office but when I moved a few years ago, I put off setting up the desk for a few weeks as our lives settled into a new home. Weeks turned into months. Months turned into years. I found that I didn’t need all that stuff. I discovered that my desk was simply a place to hold photos, books, and files and I can do all of that on an iPhone.
Consequently, my beautiful desk has remained under cloth sheets in the garage for four years. I have come to embrace the simple, mobile business life. The world headquarters for Schaefer Marketing Solutions is wherever I am sitting.
By contrast, I recently visited the glorious offices of a Fortune 500 Titan. Up on the 50th floor of a skyscraper, many of the private offices had a leather couch, beautiful art, and tasteful decor. Quite a shock to my senses. It occurred to me that they really don’t need any of that stuff. Just get a good chair and wi-fi would do it, right? They could profit from living in my world for a little while!
I’ve come to take pride in this simple business approach. I can beg and borrow a meeting room when I need it. I commandeered the family dining room when I had to spread out documents, outlines, and research while writing a book. I thrive with almost no overhead. I run a naked business.
Naked on the run
We have our house up for sale (time to down-size) and the unpredictable flow of potential buyers has disrupted my nakedness. The other day I had a solid morning of interviews to help promote my new book, Born to Blog. The hub-bub of the local coffee shop certainly would not do. I needed a very quiet space. So I moved my company headquarters to my father-in-law’s house.
“Do you have wi-fi?” I asked my elderly father-in-law.
“I believe so,” he said.
At that point, I should have known this was going to be trouble … but I went ahead and set up shop any way.
He did indeed have wi-fi and I began my first radio interview, which was to last 30 minutes. As soon as I got on the call his grandfather clock started gonging. And it was noon! 12 gongs! LOUD gongs!
I grabbed my laptop, and ran out the nearby door to his back deck to escape the clanging clock.
As I was concentrating on the interview questions, a neighbor with a snow-white handlebar mustache came wandering across the yard. “Is Orville home?” he yelled. I frantically pointed to my headphones. He looked puzzled. I guess he thought I was hooked up to my computer as some sort of hearing aid because then he started to yell loudly at me, “Is Orville home?”
I ducked back into the house. The phone started ringing. Yes, he still has a home phone. And an answering machine. But not just any answering machine. This is an answering machine that yells “The phone is ringing! The phone is ringing!” I cannot completely explain this. I think they must have bought this off a late night infomercial or something. “My phone is ringing and I can’t get up!” Or something like that.
I ducked back outside, still towing my laptop. Another neighbor had just fired up his riding lawn mower. I ducked back inside the house desperate to find a corner of peace and quiet.
The phone was ringing again. A voice came on the answering machine. “Orville, I just wanted to let you know there is a strange man talking to himself on your back porch. Are you safe over there?”
I ran out the front door, as a huge garbage truck came barreling down the street. I ran back inside.
Seeing me run all over the house, my father-in-law concluded that my interview must be over. “Can I make you a salad?” he asked in his booming voice. I muted the call and explained to him that I was still working. As my mother-in-law started her vacuum cleaner.
I ran into the bathroom and closed the door. Finally, I had a quiet space. Small. But quiet. The lights flickered. And when out. The power, and the wi-fi, was gone.
Naked revisited
OK. Maybe I do need that office.
I was traumatized by this experience, or maybe I am simply looking for an excuse to treat myself to a real office again. Perhaps I was a bit hasty about this naked business thing.
As we prepare to move again — hopefully for the last time in a LONG time — I’m re-considering the idea of a big ol’ manly office. A moffice. Or, I guess “mofo” for short? My mofo — a place to escape into business bliss!
I’ve proved that I can successfully create, consult, and coach on a global scale without the trappings of leather and fine art. However, as I enter the next phase of my career, it might just be enshrined in mahogany after all. Moffice 2.0?
How do you work? Naked or covered up? Go.
Trash talk: 5 business lessons from a 10-year-old entrepreneur
Apr 24th
By Ryan Hanley, {grow} Community Member
In my small hometown, Thursday was recycling day. Every Wednesday night the town folk would collect all their bottles and cans and walk them out to curb in a blue recycling bin to be picked up the next morning. Dirty and cracked by years of abuse from weather and indifferent garbage collectors, the blue bins were nothing more than an eyesore in our quaint town.
Yet to me, a 10-year-old boy of humble beginnings, those blue bins represented opportunity!
My town was 30 minutes from the nearest grocery store and most people were too lazy to make that long drive to return their bottles and cans for the five cent deposit. That’s were I come in.
Our brains work differently as a child. We don’t consider what other people think. We know what we like and the majority of our day is spent thinking of ways to get it — without regard to outside judgement, criticism, or questioning.
In my child brain every single bottle and every can was a little piece of opportunity. Opportunity to NOT be the poor kid in the neighborhood. We forget as adults that opportunities are made of our own doing, they’re never given … and at 10 years old, living in a small town in Upstate New York, a couple extra dollars in my pocket meant LOTS of opportunity.
Trash talk
So every Thursday I’d wake up at 4:30 in the morning, get bundled up, and head out with a pocket full of garbage bags to collect that valuable trash.
I saw myself as industrious and entrepreneurial, however, the disapproving looks I received through the blinds of my neighbors windows told a different story. I didn’t care. I saw opportunity at the bottom of every dirty, sticky, broken blue plastic bin.
As the weeks passed I began to see patterns. I knew who the drinkers were, I knew who put the most cans and bottles in the containers. This made my stop at a particular house more efficient. I started to ride my bike through the neighborhoods during the day and plot out my course so I could cover more ground and optimize profits.
On a good day I was collecting three to four garbage bags full of bottles. Dragging the full plastic bags behind took too much time, so I paid a friend a dollar for his old toy wagon and my collection numbers went even higher through this supply chain innovation. At the height of my bottle collecting career I was making 20 dollars a week, averaging 400 bottles on a single collection run.
A business is born … and lost
These days, a 10-year-old with 20 dollars in their pocket isn’t that impressive, but in 1991, I felt rich. Do you think my friends made fun of my career in garbage when I was buying them all bubble gum and baseball cards? Heck no.
A couple of them even offered to go into business with me so I franchised my bottle collection routes into a couple promising neighborhoods that I didn’t have time to reach on my own. I had started my first business.
After eight months of fat pockets and escalating revenues, my neighbors began to catch on to what I was doing. Whether from their own greed or disapproval in my line of work, the bottles started to dry up. Blue bins in front of houses I used to bank on for large stashes of bottles began to turn up empty … and just like that my first career was coming to an end.
To make matters worse, I had my first competition. An adult in town figured out my game and began collecting bottles himself. He had a car. I was scorched by superior technology.
It was time to find an adjacent market.
I had bought so many baseball cards with my bottle earnings that I was now hustling them back to friends and schoolmates for a profit. My second business was born!
Five fantastic lessons
Here are five entrepreneurial lessons you can learn from my 10-year-old self:
- Stay focused on the opportunity. If I had been self-conscious and allowed the public perception of a kid walking cold streets collecting garbage dissuade me from the opportunity, how many future opportunities would I have missed out on?
- Don’t buy into this “You only get one opportunity” nonsense. You get as many opportunities as you make for yourself. Opportunities are made, not given.
- Every opportunity isn’t sexy or popular, but success has a way of washing clean the dirt of humble beginnings.
- Don’t romanticize opportunity. In my case, opportunity was waiting at the bottom of a dirty blue recycling bin. I just had to reach down inside and take it.
- Know when to hold ‘em. Know when to fold ‘em. I couldn’t beat out an adult in the car but my second business was creatred from that disruption.
So that’s my story. Where is the strangest place you’ve found opportunity? Have you ever NOT taken on an opportunity because of what people would think?
Ryan Hanley is the Director of Marketing for the Murray Group Insurance Services, Inc. You can connect with Ryan on Google+ or visit his blog Content Warfare.
The best digital business idea that just never worked
Mar 26th
A paperless society? Not if the recent SXSW conference was any indicator.
I know this sounds crazy, but paper is still the preferred communication method at the world’s biggest interactive gathering. Every attendee is handed a printed program guide as big as a phone book. Start-ups and filmmakers paste posters on every column and leave flyers on all the tables. Everybody still wears a paper name tag.
But the strangest hold out of all is the business card.
I probably passed out (and received) 250 business cards at the event. Nobody offered a “digital” card and nobody asked for one, even though that “bump” technology of transferring from one mobile device to another has been around for a few years.
I found this so odd … especially when I returned home and manually had to enter all that information into my contact list. Doesn’t that just seem like the biggest waste of time? “Bumping” a business card is such a great idea. But it never worked. Why?
It interested me to the point that I posted the issue on Facebook. Some of the responses were illuminating. Here is what a few {grow} community members had to say about the obvious staying power of business cards:
Gary Schirr YEARS ago businesspeople used to exchange info electronically using their Palm organizers…what happened???
Ahna Rebekah Hendrix I prefer business cards at this point because they remind me of the individual versus just putting a number/name in my phone. The apps where you take a picture are still odd to me – I’m not trying to snap the picture of a new contact just to remember them.. We are somewhere in the middle, but I much prefer b-cards still.
Jason Falls I actually prefer going through the cards I collect when I get home. Helps me remember who the people are and to follow up with them. (Just finished doing that a few minutes ago!
Kristen Margo Daukas At least with physical cards, you can flip thru them and if you don’t know the person, if you’ve written a note it will jog your memory. Once you put it in the phone and trash the card, it’s even more lost in a sea of data. Personally, I like that are one or two things that are still tangible.
Brian Vickery I’ve mentioned just getting a custom QR code for the phone that folks could scan – but it would be so foreign to most people. Secondary consideration is to then include one on the business card to at least save the tech-savvy folks from having to type in the information.
Craig Lindberg Wonder how the etiquette for the card exchange like that in Japan can be updated to mobile? Or maybe they have already. Important rituals sometimes don’t translate into digital.
When I think about the future, I usually assume we will be surrounded by a digital layer that we will literally be able to absorb and record at will with some device. But I wonder if we will always have business cards?










You’re in marketing for one reason: Grow.
Grow your company, reputation, customers, impact, profits. Grow yourself. This is a community that will help. It will stretch your mind, connect you to fascinating people, and provide some fun along the way. I am so glad you’re here.
-Mark Schaefer

