Admission: I’m feeling a bit . . . jaded.
And it’s not a good color on me.
I’m tired of watching emerging entrepreneurs flagellate themselves, because they’re not ‘as far along’ as they think they should be, or as their peers seem to be, or as their idols appear to be.
I’m tired of seeing the same ‘free reports!’ and ’7-step guides!’ and ‘money-back guarantees!’ and ‘life-shifting programs!’ frothing & foaming across the ‘net, in near-identical permutations.
I’m tired of plagiarism. Laziness. And the grim root of all copy-cattery: the fear that one’s own ideas simply aren’t good enough.
I’m tired of tunnel-visioneering around minutia that won’t matter in 100 minutes, let alone 100 years — when there are projects like this that demand our attention.
I want to see: exquisite individuality. Poetry. OPINIONS. Your world — and your work — growing wild.
I recommend: that you unsubscribe from anything & everything that makes you feel small. That you snap your laptop shut and spend a week in the company of Art. That you call someone you’ve scorched, apologize profusely, and then make a short film about it. That you finish the memoir. That you find out who you’re becoming. That you sit still with your thoughts, well past the point of comfort or reason. That you find some new inspiration . . . in a broken-hearted conversation.
When’s the last time you took someone’s breath away?
. . . with an exquisite, full-body hug that wrapped clean around the wound?
. . . with a long-time-coming kiss that answered every question?
. . . with an impeccably-timed care package, bursting with nourishment?
. . . with unspeakable kindness, acknowledgment, or much-needed praise?
. . . with a memory-in-the-making, disguised as a gift?
It’s a transcendent feeling — this taking-of-breath. And it ain’t so bad for the breathless one, either.
You should try it sometime. Soon.
So. I’m seeing . . .
A conversation like this:
YOU :: You got any plans May 3rd – 7th?
YOUR FRIEND SINCE FOREVER / BUSINESS COMRADE / CREATIVE PARTNER / MOM / SISTER / GODMOTHER / SOULMATE / PLATONIC LOVER :: Uh, nope!
YOU :: Hang on two ticks. { tappity tappity tap } Now you do.
THEM :: What do you mean?
YOU :: I’m bringing you to a creativity retreat in Santa Fe, at a magic hacienda on the Turquoise Trail. We’re gonna share a luxe double-room, hang with rad entrepreneurs & artists, dance, draw, write, and stare at the stars. They’re gonna feed us eco-yummy meals, pump us up with business-building inspiration, and take us on a field trip to a private section of the Georgia O’Keeffe Museum. It’s gonna be like a soul-filling slumber party, for grown-ups. And I can’t wait to share it with you.
THEM :: . . . . . . .
YOU :: You there?
THEM :: { sniffle }
YOU :: Are you excited or what?
THEM :: Oh my fucking { deity of choice! } I can’t believe this! Holy boots! Sweet Christmas in a bucket! ARE YOU SERIOUS?!
YOU :: Just say you’re coming. I already booked our room.
THEM :: Of course I’m coming! It’s just, I . . . there are no words. { silence }
YOU :: I really can’t wait to be there, with you. { more silence }
THEM :: I’m still in shock.
YOU :: I’m kinda in shock, too. But I’m SO excited. See you in May, lovebug.
THEM :: thankyouthankyouthankyou. You’re insane & amazing.
YOU :: I know. But you knew that already.
Be an Instigator of Breathlessness. It feels so gooood.
There are five spots remaining for The SPARK Retreat in Santa Fe, May 3 – 7 — including two double-rooms, for two breathless duos. Book your spot, then swing back one mo’ again & book one for your BFF. And prepare for giddy gasps of glee. Or stunned, precious silence.
Stepping on a rusty screw. Slamming your fingers in a meat locker. Attending a children’s brass band competition.
All undeniably TORTUOUS.
But writing a bio for your website?
Shouldn’t be painful in the slightest.
Trust me on this.
“Ah, easy for YOU to say! You’re the wordsmith chica. I’m like . . . not.”
Let me be perfectly clear: I refuse to believe that some people are Writers, while others are Not(ers).
Are some people naturally gifted with words? Of course. Just as others are naturally gifted with impeccable balance, 20/20 vision, a knack for Sudoku puzzles, or gardening skills that would make Johnny Appleseed weep.
But to borrow a question from Julia Cameron: “Did you write today? Then you’re a writer today.”
And I bet you wrote something — a text message, an email, a tweet, a terrible poem — today.
So you’re a writer. Today. Get into it.
And let’s finish your godforsaken “About” page before you’ve ambled into the afterlife.
If you’re stuck, struggling, stumped or just plain sick of your bio, try one (or all) of these cheat-a-licious tricks. There’s only one rule: Don’t second-guess your stories. Oh, and one more: write FAST.
1. The “10 Things You Never Knew About Me” bio.
Take a sheet of paper (digital or tangible) and number it 1 through 10.
Now — without thinking too intensely — jot down:
: 3 things you’re deeply proud of (but would never admit on your résumé).
: 3 professional credentials, or proof-that-I’m-the-real-McCoy points.
: 3 fascinating, little-known facts about your life, career, beliefs & beyond.
: 1 wild-card secret that you’re ready to share.
Shuffle ‘em up to find a compelling sequence — start & finish with serious zingers. Hello, snap-tastic bio.
2. The “I Believe” bio.
Write I BELIEVE in humongous letters on a piece of butcher paper.
Underneath those words, free-write all the things you unequivocally BELIEVE.
Or as Oprah would say, “What I know for sure.”
You’ll probably notice that each of your core beliefs are tied to key life experiences — difficult choices. Eureka! moments. Soulful U-turns. Studies gone awry. See the story emerging? Your readers will.
Feeling contrarian? Try starting with: “I NO LONGER BELIEVE.” Or even, “I’M STILL DECIDING . . .”
One mission-driven bio, comin’ up.
3. The “Totem Animal” bio.
Take a sheet of ruled paper, scritch-scratch out the following prompts, add (or subtract) a few of your own, and fill ‘em in. Zip zap zoom.
And that’s it. Easiest (and most adorablest) bio ever.
4. The “Once Upon A Time” bio.
Open a Moleskine notebook.
Jot down the first 4 ages that come to mind, followed by “Today.”
Por ejemplo:
Age 5:
Age 12:
Age 17:
Age 27:
Today:
Now, ink out who you were, at each chronological demarcation.
: What were you doing with your life, at that time?
: What were your most urgent priorities?
: Who did you want to become?
: Which obstacles were stomping across your pathway?
: What mattered? What didn’t?
: And how about . . . right now? Who are you becoming?
You’ve got yourself a mini-memoir.
And a magnificent bio, to boot.
5. The “In Medias Res” bio.
Close your eyes, and flick back to a moment in time that felt . . . PIVOTAL.
An experience of vital, critical importance.
Like: a phone call that catapulted your career. A catastrophe that made your dreams go kablooey.
A surprise conversation that cracked your status quo. The health scare that shook you awake.
In medias res is Latin for “into the middle of things.” So rather than beginning your bio at the beginning of your life (or wrapped around your present-day reality) take us into the middle of a moment that altered . . . everything.
Pretend you’re a journalist — or a trench-coated Film Noir detective. Color the scene.
Jump right to the action.
“It was 11:59:50 pm. December 31, 2003. New lovers winked through the champagne bubbles. The band took their positions.
And the 10-second count-down began. I didn’t know it then, but my whole world — my seven-figure career, my hard-won McMansion, and even my definition of marriage — was about to crack open. And it would begin with a kiss. At midnight.”
Holy intrigue.
Then carry us back to the present, and show us who you are now.
New wisdom, credentials, career path & all.
Powerhouse bio? Signed, sealed, delivered. Your Pulitzer awaits.
[ih-skeyp]verb, es·caped, es·cap·ing, noun, adjective
verb (used without object)
1. to slip or get away, as from confinement or restraint; gain or regain liberty: to escape from jail.
2. to slip away from pursuit or peril; avoid capture, punishment, or any threatened evil.
3. to issue from a confining enclosure, as a fluid.
4. to slip away; fade: The words escaped from memory.
5. Botany. (of an originally cultivated plant) to grow wild.
When we think of ESCAPE, we tend to lean into definitions 1 through 4. We’re talking about sprinting away from something less-than-serendipitous, spiritually-strangling — even perilous.
Springing outta jail. Fleeing the scene. Cracking the lock. Revving the getaway car.
Personally, I’m attracted to the fifth (and forgotten) definition: to grow wild.
When I dropped out of college, I thought I was escaping the self-imposed pressure & cracking-ice tension of dominating the classes I (rarely) enjoyed. In reality, I needed to grow wild.
When I packed all my belongings into two overstuffed suitcases and moved 7,043 miles away from home to a small town on the southern tip of New Zealand, I thought I was escaping a traumatic breakup. In reality, I needed to love wild.
When I quit my comfortable 9-to-5 job, I thought I was escaping the abrasive confinements of cubicle life. In reality, I needed to work wild.
My best decisions — and finest escapes — have always sprung, whether I realized it or not, from the desire to grow wild. To release self-invented limitations. To nourish myself with raw experiences. To bloom fast, ferocious & free.
And so, the question for every escape artist becomes:
If I complete this grand escape –
– and quit the job
– or leave the guy
– or sell the house
– or burn the website
– or axe the partnership
– will I simply be TRANSPLANTING myself to a new patch of soil, with all my cultivated strictures intact, or will I be GROWING WILD?
Transplant your cultivated self, and you’ll yearn for another form of escape before you’ve even set down fresh roots. But grow wild — and there will be nothing to escape.
Calling All Escape Artists:
My first-ever life & career coach, Michelle Ward, is celebrating her two-year entrepreneuriversary today. I owe this woman a debt of gratitude of Herculean proportions.
She’s celebrating her second year of vocational liberation with a new offering: An Effective Escape: leaving your day job without living in your parents’ basement. This digital love-bundle includes a 70+ page workbook, audio & video sessions, articles galore, resources-a-plenty, an inspiring music playlist, and provocative questions to craft your own escape plan. And today & today only, it’s priced at whatever you can afford.
One of the sublime pleasures of designing your own career is getting to CHOOSE your own job title.
Better still? You can get it printed on luxe, heavy-weight cardstock, and start dishing out ‘now we’re in business!’ cards. And you can rent a ‘chopper & scatter them across the sleeping metropolis. It’s not littering . . . it’s marketing.
I’ve already written about crafting an unforgettable personal introduction & nailing down your intrinsic gifts. Today, I’m offering a grab ‘n go round-up of ooh-la-la job titles, for your amusement, edification . . . and vocational pleasure.
See one you like? Snap it up — with my compliments.
Dyana Valentine is not a business strategist — she’s an Oracle. Her latest & greatest offering is The Woke Up Knowing™ Experience — an exploration of the tools and treasures we’re born with…and may have forgotten.
This April, DyVa is bringing The Woke Up Knowing™ Experience to beautiful Walla Walla, Washington.
And she has a question — THE question — for you:
What Are Your Conditions for Greatness?
Join DyVa in Walla Walla on Thursday, April 5th OR Saturday, April 7th for 24 hours of instigation. You’ll eat lovingly-crafted organic food. You’ll swan about in a private room at the foot of the Blue Mountain Range. You’ll immerse yourself in an atmosphere of willingness & curiosity. And you’ll reclaim your Conditions for Greatness.
It’s the right place — and the right time.
Show up. Wake up. And stay up.
