When You Get a "Q" without a "U"

I played the word game, Scrabble, with my husband last week. It had been years since we played, just the two of us, mano a mano. We both love word games and are competitive. We each have taken so long on a turn, hoping to eek out a few extra points with a better word, that our running joke is asking whether there’s time to vacuum the house while waiting. My brother once did this while waiting for his turn.

What I notice about Scrabble is that it relies on imagination, flexibility, and playing in the moment. I may have a 40-point word laid out in my hand, only to find my opponent has already taken the spot that I was eyeing. I re-shuffle my letters, hoping for an insight that matches a word to a spot on the board. It is all about my mind staying loose and seeing opportunity. Hey, that sounds like being self-employed…

Sometimes, life serves up 7 vowels, or a Q without a U. No matter. What’s important is getting the most points out of what’s in your hand. I know that once I use those hard to match letters, there will be more to follow in my hand. I am reminded that grace in life is about making lemons out of lemonade and knowing that nothing sticks around forever if you are just willing to work with it.

I ended up with 394 points, over 100 points ahead of my husband. The word, “burgers” helped tremendously, garnering 70+ points for using all seven letters in one turn. So did knowing obscure short words like “em” (the letter M), “zee” (the letter Z), and xi (a Greek letter). I had been fixated on breaking 400, only to be beat out by the word “quo” as the last turn by my husband. I had lost track of the fact that he could “go out” at any moment and yelled out a groan when I realized that he had used up all his letters, with no more available to draw. Great fun and a big “argghhhh!” later, Scrabble has taught me that the goal is not the point. Nor is beating my opponent squarely. It is the joy of creating something out of nothing, and getting points for doing it. That happens a lot to me these days.

Will The Real Carol Ross Please Stand Up?

Middle of the night web-surfing can be fun (no, I'm not talking about looking at pictures of naked people...)

I googled myself tonight. You know--putting my name into Google and seeing what comes up. I used to get annoyed when I saw all these other people named Carol Ross who came up before my listing. Who will ever find me if there are so many other women with the same name?

But tonight was different. Curiosity got the best of me and I decided to check out the other Carol Ross's.

What I found were alot of other women I'd love to meet. And in the process, I got to fantasize what it would be like to be a different Carol Ross.

There is Carol Ross in Bucks County, PA, a wonderful photographer. When I went to her website, I was greeted with beautiful pictures and music that made me think of rose gardens and blue skies. She specializes in weddings. Her photos are used in cards that you can buy at Barnes and Noble and April Cornell. She's even written a book, called Bride's Companion. Yes, I could see being this Carol Ross. (Although I could NOT write a book about brides unless it was about funny things that happened to real brides....)

Then there's Carol Ross in Chicago, principal of a major architectural firm. Actually her name is Carol Ross Barney but she comes up in Google alot anyway with MY name typed in. This Carol Ross has been quoted in Fast Company magazine (one of my all time dreams) because of her work as chief architect for the U.S. Federal Building in Oklahoma City. Her designs are sleek and fresh and her firm has a great website to boot. I've always had a respect for architects as they seem to easily combine the left brain and the right brain in their work. Yep, maybe I'll be an architect in the next life...

Another Carol Ross is a sculptor, whose work has been shown in the Museum of Modern Art in NYC and who seems to regularly display at a fancy gallery on Madison Ave (her art that is, not Carol herself). I think of sculptors, especially one who works in steel and other modern media, as disconnected from everyday life and somewhat temperamental. But hey, I could be this Carol Ross for a day or two.

The most interesting Carol Ross is nothing like me. She's the head basketball coach at her alma mater, the University of Mississippi. She's a blond and probably with great coordination, a muscular build, and a Southern accent. The only thing that we have in common is that we both have the word "coach" in our title. No, I couldn't even fake being this Carol Ross.

There are a host of other Carol Ross's out there--one involved in a lawsuit (this would not be setting a good example for my clients), one a former producer of the Larry King Live show (hmm...one of my taglines used to be "Setting the Stage for Great Things to Happen" but I'm not sure how often this happens on Larry's show), another sculptor who is less well known (boy, it must get complicated for that woman), a water color artist (yes, my creative muse would like this one), and a middle school librarian (please, I can only stretch myself so far).

It's fun to think about having a completely different identity. (A friend of mine once told me he went to a weekend retreat and pretended with strangers that he had no past, only the present. But that's a whole other blog post.)

At the end of the day, or the end of a blog post, it's great to come back to who I am.

Now If Only the Post Office Would Take Note

I was at the PostNet store down the street this past week. I was in a hurry, on my way to an appointment, and needed to get two packages sent with tracking numbers. The clerk, named Rico, looked at the two packages and told me immediately that one of the packages needed to be re-wrapped. What happened in the next ten minutes should be a case study on great customer service:

"Yeah, the Post Office will take packages wrapped in brown paper, but UPS and the others won't. The paper can clog up their sorting equipment. You've done a great job at wrapping this but they still won't take it." Hmm....makes sense. And thanks for acknowledging that I'm not wrong. I just didn't know the rules.

"Oh, I usually go to the Post Office and they never say anything about the brown paper. I came here because I'm in a hurry and knew I needed the packages tracked."

"I know what you mean. The Post Office loves the brown paper wrapping. But even they're starting to re-think the brown paper. They're going towards the high-speed sorting machines as well. " This guy knows his stuff.

"Well, here are your options. Looks like this is a shoebox under the paper. Is that right?"

"Yeah." This guy knows his stuff.

"UPS won't take the shoebox as is. I can give you a cardboard box from the back. Or you can go home and wrap it in your own box. Or you can mail it using the Post Office's Priority Mail with a confirmation receipt. You won't know where it is in transit but you'll know when it gets there. And it wil cost about twice as much." This guy really knows his stuff.

"Oh, I'm in a hurry. I'll take it home, repack in a new box, and come back another day."

"Look, I'll give you a box from the back and fill out the paperwork while you repack. "

"Okay, that will work. " I can trust this guy to get me out of here quickly. I'll go with his plan B. The box he gave me was perfect in size. I repacked quickly.

"Do you have any tape?"

"Oh, don't worry about that. I'll do it for you." This would not happen at the Post Office.

"Oh, I have to put this return authorization number on the outside of the package."

"Don't worry. It's already printed on the label. But I'll also write it on the package as well." This would not happen at the Post Office.

"What's inside?"

"A phone adapter from Vonage." I gritted my teeth, thinking about the poor service I had gotten from Vonage over the past few months. I finally wised up and switched back to my local provider.

Rico stared at his computer screen. "Looks like there's been alot of people doing the same thing recently, sending packages back to Vonage." I can count on this guy to give me extra information that's useful.

"It seems like you've been doing this job for awhile. You're very knowledgeable."

"Oh, just a few months. But you learn alot as you go."

Rico handed me the slip with the tracking numbers and ran a yellow marker over the numbers to highlight them. This guy makes it easy for me.

"Was everything to your satisfaction?"

"Yes, very much so. You know, I just want to shake your hand." I looked Rico in the eye as I shook his hand. I loved this man.

"Well, I'm Rico. I hope you use our service again."

"Don't worry. I'll be back."

I looked at my watch. I had enough time to make it to my appointment, even with the repacking. When was the last time you mailed a package and felt like you were walking on air? When was the last time someone made it easy for you to do business with them? When was the last time you walked away from a customer experience, loving the person who served you and feeling a loyalty to return?

Thanks, Rico, for reminding me what great customer service looks like.

You Have Permission

I went to an all-day seminar on branding--and came home by noon. I could feel myself getting bored and while I was getting some good tips, I couldn't see spending another four hours to get a few more tips. No offense against the presenters--these were all very experienced people who had won awards in their field. I realized that since I've become a small business owner, I've raised my standard. If I'm not engaged in what I'm doing, I ask myself, "What else could I be doing that would provide more value?" When the answer comes back, "Lots!" I ask the next question: "Why am I here?"

Now here comes the interesting part. When I was in the corporate world, I would stick it out, even if it caused my brain to drift off into never-never land for hours. I would dash off at the break to get to my voicemail and email and then grudgingly return to the classroom late, after the instructor had already gotten started, smug that I had eked out a few extra minutes of freedom. I never gave myself permission to make the call on how best to use my time. I didn't trust what I knew--that the ROI was pretty low on this activity.

Today, I didn't hesitate to bolt for the exit door. The answer to the question, "Why am I here?" came back quickly. "You thought you would learn alot more about branding that would be helpful to your business. But it turns out you are only learning a little more. Go spend your time elsewhere."

What if everyone asked those same questions, both inside and outside of companies?

"What else could I be doing that would provide more value?"
"Why am I here?"

Guess what? You have permission to spend your time elsewhere.