Archives For Games
I’ve been getting these little video nuggets of golf wisdom and the Square to Square method from Doug Tewell: 8 Golf Myths.
He sends them to my email.
Today I received Myth 5: Turning the Club Head
“Do you turn it off?” the subject line reads.
And in the body of the email:
“If you’ve been turning the club off in your follow-through, then this video is for you.”
Surely Mr. Tewell wasn’t intending to inspire deep reflection about my life and my head based on this phrase or the position of my club head. But he did.
And it couldn’t have come at a better time.
In golf, as in life, sometimes you don’t even realize that it’s off. That you’ve turned it off.
Yes, consider how it turned off in the first place. But don’t dwell on it.
Focus and turn it back on.
All of it. Maximum power. Full-bore.
It’s been one of those lazy wintry Saturdays for me–hoping no one calls, rationalizing staying in and delaying anything that involves going outside because of the gray skies and crummy weather.
I actually love the winter in New York, the fresh crisp air and pretty snowfall. But sometimes I just don’t want to leave the warmth of my space and bother with putting on endless layers just to step outside if I don’t really have to.
But during on the fence moments like these, I usually end up feeling glad that I said Yes and Go instead of No, Stay.
It’s also during these times that my mind inadvertently starts playing games with me.
Today was no different.
If the Sky stays gray, Stay. If it turns blue, you’ll go outside.
Deal, I say.
I promise, I say.
Around 10am, I looked out my window. The Sun seemed to be having a mini battle against the gray Sky.
I had just eaten a satisfying no-hassle breakfast of ramen and kimchee and was perfectly content.
So what comes next shouldn’t come as a surprise.
Don’t win. Don’t win. I begged the Sun. Don’t turn blue, Sky. Don’t do it. Don’t succumb…
Just short of noon, the Sun was proudly blazing against the most perfect hue of blue. And a bird, all alone, soared, making broad loops, simply having a ball.
I honored the deal, kept the promise I made to myself, and well… the day only got better.
Willie Nelson, take it away: Blue Skies.
I can’t shake the desire to throw out, give away, and say my fond farewells to things. Objects.
People often do this during Spring. Spring cleaning.
But I do it every month. Assess my surroundings, move things around, look at wear and tear.
Admittedly I have an emotional attachment to certain items that serve as reminders of experiences. I keep pretty things that I simply like looking at.
But even these things sometimes get chopped. Or at least put safely away outside of my view.
The people in my personal life are currently all safe. I’ve carefully assessed and determined at least for now that they’re all worthy of my time and attention.
Fortunately, my true loved ones and I have a mutual understanding. There will be punctuated moments of noncommunication before that reach out. Barring emergencies, it’s how we operate.
I was about to state an exception. My weekly call to my parents every Sunday who live thousands of miles away.
But then I realized, whether it’s a function of routine or simply respect for them, I actually want to call them. Check in. Make sure they’re doing okay, that, as my stepfather always macabrely answers when I ask how he’s doing, they’re still vertical.
With my parents, true friends, and loved ones, the understanding is the same.
The time we spend together is special. We’re not doing so out of duty or simply maintenance. It’s not work. It’s pleasure. Fun. We choose to expend the effort.
They have a place and function in my life and I make room for them. Make the time. It’s effort. Not work.
There’s a difference.
I catch myself and others around me using Sorry as filler. As an interruption. A question. An entrance.
And when the word needs to be used as it was intended, it requires a qualification.
I’m really sorry is a common one.
I consciously stop myself now from verbalizing or writing Sorry for minor things. Being late. Bumping into someone on the subway.
I’ve found that other words or an explanation go further.
I didn’t hear you. Repeat what you just said please.
The train was delayed. I hope you haven’t been waiting too long.
Maybe I’m making a mountain of a molehill. But it bothers me that we’re saying Sorry when we’re really not. Or if we haven’t done anything wrong.
The New York Times, in an article, Do you apologize too much? explored this same issue. Read the article.
And, what the hell, do this little experiment tomorrow. See how many times you catch yourself saying Sorry or hear others using it.
Mountain? Molehill? Did you mean it? Did they mean it?
I’m forecasting lots of Nos.
I’ve been experimenting with this relatively new, free to join, but invite only social sharing, profit sharing platform for about a month now.
Like anything new I attempt, I’ve been obsessive.
The thing is, if I’m willing to accept something new into my life, whatever that may be, small or grand, I must be willing to put time and effort into it.
If not. Then why bother?
Of course after giving it a shot, doing what I can to see how it works in my life, if it turns out not being worthy of my time and effort, if I’m not loving it, I’ve no problem walking away, closing the door, and moving on.
I’m not there yet with this new platform. I’m still getting a hang of it, trying to understand how it works. How to play the game.
I started three weeks ago. I’ve amassed nearly 600 “friends” and 220 “followers.” I’ve devoted I’m guessing 10 hours to posting and earned $1.
Before this, I’ve never analyzed or tracked my personal social sharing behavior, the amount of time I’ve spent posting my own content and engaging with others’.
I know for sure that since I started this new thing that I’ve posted so much more than I have before. Trying to catch up with the others who tease me with their 35K followers and post their analytics chart to show the enviable dollar amount.
So it’s hard to say, from the standpoint of monetization, whether it’s worth it or not for me to continue. If I already post anyhow, I may as well get paid for it, is my current stance.
But there’s a healthy load of skepticism in this venture.
I haven’t set a goal or timeframe yet. Sure, the ultimate goal would be to set myself up to a point where the system starts working for me. Where reward far exceeds effort and time.
I suppose this is the ideal ratio and scenario in every project, experience, situation.
It’s still early. I don’t know when and if that ratio will happen here–certainly not now and the way things are looking, anytime soon.
I’ll remind myself now of something I’ve read before that’s always stayed with me–from Seth Godin.
“‘Doing the best I can’ is actually not the same as ‘doing everything I can.’ When we tell people we’re doing the best we can, we’re actually saying, ‘I’m doing the best I’m comfortable doing.’ As you’ve probably discovered, great work makes us uncomfortable.”
I’ve not done everything I can… so onward!
If you’re curious about this profit sharing social networking platform, here’s your invite to join: http://tsu.co/marieeestrada
You never know who’s calling even when the ID says it’s so and so.
Most of the time it’ll be that person. But it’s those exceptions that can get you.
A few minutes ago, my phone rang. The caller ID notified me it was one of my best friends.
She calls for good reason. Never just to chit chat. She knows I don’t really like to talk on the phone. So when she calls I always answer when I can.
This time, I answered her call using what was my closest impression of Yoda.
The response was a pause.
It was my friend’s husband. He’s 35 years older than my friend and has had a very successful life in film, art, photography. To describe him as accomplished would be an understatement. He’s sweet and sociable but a shrewd businessman and serious in all of his professional pursuits, of which there are many.
I don’t think he made the Yoda connection though it wouldn’t surprise me if he was on a first name basis with George Lucas.
Fortunately, he has a wonderful sense of humor.
After his initial Hello, he simply laughed. Then he said, Obviously, Marie, the better half has stolen the other half’s phone to call you.
He was calling to thank me for some consultation on one of his projects and for connecting him with a company I work with. He said he hired the company and was over the moon about the results.
Earlier in the week I had a similar conversation with the co-founder of the company. He called me gushing about how excited he was to be working on the project with my friend’s husband and I could literally hear and see his smile through the phone. Like a five-year-old receiving a new toy.
I don’t share my resources with just anybody. And I do so only when I feel the connection is solid. When the personalities fit. When the connection will equally benefit everyone involved.
I knew the connection between my friend’s husband and the company needed to be made. It wasn’t just my gut telling me this. I have experience with what my friend’s husband needed after going through his project. And I’ve invested time in the company I was recommending to do the job. I hired them to work on a big project. I’ve worked closely with everyone on their team. From the copywriters and designers to the two founders. They know their stuff. And they genuinely seem to love what they’re doing. They offer their services at a fair price. They’re efficient, flexible, transparent, communicate their moves. Professional. They’ve built my trust in them.
I told the co-founder that he owed me my finder’s fee cocktail.
I’ll buy you the bar, was his response.
There’s nothing more uplifting than feeling like you’ve helped get something done. When the stars align. When you can confidently refute the adage, It’s not what you know but who you know.
It’s who you know AND what you know.