Amy Swift Crosby

We (you, me) are obliged to tell stories in the name of commerce. We are all telling one — and it’s our job to do it, like it or not.

But as people, I’m not sure we have the same responsibility. Often times, when a profound or still-unfolding experience happens, it’s hard to put punctuation around it. It can feel so big — with aspects known, and others still unknown, that it’s hard to know how to answer:

“How are you?”
“How was the trip?”
“How was your year?”

These seem like innocuous questions. But often they force us to prematurely disclose at the cost of an invaluable plot line: that which is…

How am I (really)?
What do I ( really) think?
What does this (really) mean for me?

Which leads to…what to do?
A short answer feels untrue.
A long (more real one) might cost you the much-needed conversation you’re having internally, by assigning a story to something you don’t know yet.

Here’s the thing. We don’t owe marketing, messaging or status updates to the general public of our personal lives, and maintaining the vital membrane that holds genuine reflection together can take a conscious act of restraint.

Sometimes saying less — even if it’s not super true – is the right-est thing you can do. It may be your only hope in knowing what you really think.

Lucky are the doctors, therapists, lawyers and journalists — among others – when it comes to professional codes. Their days are governed by rules and laws – by an organized body of ethical standards that deems “yes we can” or “no we cannot.” It’s not that there aren’t gray areas, but at least they’re held to a baseline of collective agreement. For creative’s, consultants, entrepreneurs, marketers, in other words, most of us — we call our own shots. At a minimum, we aim for ethical, but there are hundreds of questions that live in a pretty gray area.

I heard Anthony Bourdain interviewed on NPR last weekend and he talked about his own code, mostly bleeped for national radio – that basically said he wouldn’t live his life or be part of anything he couldn’t stand behind. Nor would he work with people he “didn’t genuinely like.” He was more graphic (as expected), but in a nutshell, said – no bullsh$t. It’s easier to say that once you’re successful and in a place of power. But what about when you’re still in the hustle? Still building? Still pitching? Still perseverating over “yes I should” or “no I shouldn’t”?

I had a great brand ask me to pitch work on spec recently, to write messaging as a means of interviewing for the (big) project. I wanted the work. I really like the client and brand. But I know better than to invest a day in tagline development without a complete brief, without feeling invested, and without an official engagement. Doing business development and client woo-ing may be part of the job, but all of us who work in undefined business landscapes have to recognize a fools errand when we see one. Submitting a half-baked idea in order to ‘seem’ the most clever / creative / smart isn’t the way I want to win an account. I have a website, a portfolio and a weekly blog… if they want to see the work. You likely do, too.

I can tell when my code has broken links pretty easily; I’m uncomfortable with the arrangement (at best), or annoyed with terms (trying to understand why I agreed)  — at worst. It happens much less than it used to, but it still happens #stilllearning.

We all need codes. But when they’re on a case by case basis, when they’re too malleable, when we make exceptions and call it the rule, we break them without ceremony.

Have a standard. Make sure you can live with it and hold yourself to it. If not you, then who?

Sometimes I think our path to finding agreement — the way we fight, disagree, recover or come back – define us even more than the big issues themselves.

Conflict or differences in opinion happen all the time – in marriage, in business, between countries and between partners. Alec Baldwin recently interviewed the actor John Turturro and both shared that there are times during the making of certain, high stakes films, when each have wanted to walk off the set — where the disparate visions of key stakeholders (actor / director / producer / investor) don’t seem like they can be (peacefully) resolved. The only scenarios that worked allowed everyone to come back to the conversation with their self-respect in tact. We can all relate to that. You hope discord moves the conversation in a healthy way — with no black eyes — and that it pushes an idea / issue / team to its full potential. But does how you get there…also matter?

Our moves define us, ultimately. And that includes our passivity or inaction. We can (and will) make mistakes, throw bad passes, get sloppy, fail the people we most want to impress — but our course, words and gestures in finding our way back is what will be remembered.

It’s fun to win, and nice to be right, but hopefully not at the cost of anyone losing too much to recover.

Consider not just the stakes, but how it will feel to win what’s at stake. Make the moves you also want made. It’s the most generous thing you can do, and unlike the Super Bowl, where credit is obvious and comes with a ring, no one will likely know all that you did to change the game.

That’s okay. Do it anyway.

Performance has infiltrated our lives. It seems like everyone I know, work with, hang with, partner with, is performing at such a high level, and in a multitude of applications. If you’re reading this, it’s also probably you.

They’re dope at their job.

They’re incredible parents.

They also give Ted Talks.

They’re developing an app.

They do the right thing, thanklessly, over and over.

They just ran an Ironman.

And even though deep down, we know it isn’t always about being great at stuff, it turns out, a lot of people just are above average, at lot’s of things. It’s not by accident. They work at it — and aim for it with gusto. Just keeping up with the number of communications that come through the door every day — with some thought and intelligence – could also be some level of performance. We apparently each send or receive at least 150 emails a day. What the what. All of us kind of have to perform at a higher level these days.

So if Performance (yes, capital P), has become not only our Plan A but also our Plan B — meaning, if we just cant’ help ourselves – how much have we scheduled in recovery? I recently spent an entire day doing restorative stuff. I just kept going deeper and deeper into a “rest” state — throughout the day — and by the end was ready to climb the Empire State Building. It had the opposite affect on me — rather than relaxing me into a state of subdued Zen, I was energized into a buzzing little bee. So it worked. I was no longer flattened but instead, emboldened.

Recovery takes discipline. But there’s something really amazing about people who aren’t frazzled, who have command over their lives and schedules, who aren’t in a total state of reaction throughout the day, who aren’t panting through calls and meetings — because the tail is wagging the dog.

Rest is productive. Do it like you mean it.