Donald Miller's Blog, page 33

In Order To Live, People Need Open Spaces And Here’s Why

When my sons were much younger, our family took a road trip to New York City. It was a great adventure, eating our way through the city, taking in all of the predictable sights, and enjoying a couple of shows.

In the middle of our trip, we took an excursion to Central Park, cycling through its many paths.

I’m always amazed at how enormous this park is – 2.5 miles long and a half-mile wide.

Photo Credit: Alan Light, Creative Commons

It’s such a stark contrast to the rest of the city, where it seems that every square inch is accounted for.

More than 150 years ago, someone had the foresight more to create this space, knowing that without it, the rapidly growing city would most likely implode.

In order to live, people need open spaces.

We simply can’t live without a respite.

The park’s creators were right. Did you know that more than 40,000,000 people a year find their way to the park? Central Park works, giving people a place to breathe, to walk, and to play.

It offers a place to get away from the craziness and chaos of the city.

Can you imagine New York City without Central Park? I can—because I have been that city.

Let me explain.

Some years ago, in the middle of the night I awakened from a deep sleep, gasping for breath.

My heart was pounding at an irregular rhythm, and I was covered with a cold sweat. I jumped up and felt dizzy, wondering if I was having “The BIG ONE.” However, I had no pain, my arm wasn’t numb, and in about ten minutes, I felt somewhat normal.

But I was freaked out.

A visit to the doctor the next day showed my heart to be in good working order and there were no physical problems. He then asked me about my schedule, which I thought was an odd question, given the fact I had almost died the night before.

I described to him a typical day.

And as I shared my schedule, I realized my days started early and ended late, and were preceded and followed by catching up on emails and phone calls.

After all that work, I was involved in a book project I’d been working on.

Ah, he said. I think I know your problem. You had a full-on panic attack. There is no room in your life to breathe. And your body sent up a signal flare to let you know something’s wrong.

These are not exactly words a counselor type wants to hear.

Me? Having a panic attack? But when he said it, I knew he was right.

Little by little, any free time I had was swallowed up by things I felt had to be done. I had a lot to do and I was doing it, morning and night.

Every waking hour was devoted to some task and my soul started screaming for a break.

I think there are a lot of folks out there like me.

You might be one of them.

We get busy with life and work and projects, and before we know it, we become New York City without Central Park. What were once fields of green and tree-lined paths have been covered by buildings and asphalt.

We weren’t built to live like this.

We can exist like this, but we can’t live.

If this sounds like you, let me encourage you to start taking back the land. There are some buildings you’ve constructed that need to come down. Do you know what they are?

One by one, board by board, dismantle them, and in their place, plant some trees and grass, and maybe a path. Before long, you’ll be able to feel the cool grass between your toes as you enjoy the shade of an old oak.

And then you can breathe again.

In Order To Live, People Need Open Spaces And Here’s Why is a post from: Storyline Blog

Why It’s Sometimes Better to Receive Than Give

Sometimes a gift is better received than given.

I always thought it was the other way around and often still find myself uncomfortable receiving gifts, praise, attention, or compliments.

Photo Credit: Michael Dean McDonald, www.michaeldeancompany.com

The church and self-help worlds both supported this theory and gave me permission to live in generosity-only as a means to experience humility, joy, and happiness.

It wasn’t until I realized giving was a process that did not work without someone’s ability to receive, that my paradigm started to shift.

Recently I took a trip with friends to Kurdistan in Northern Iraq.

We went to visit with Isis Refugee camps and a Restore International school and while we were there, this lesson was on display.

When we arrived at the first camp, the kids seemed enthusiastic to see us. They were surprised anyone had shown up at all, but the fact that we showed up with a pocket full of balloons made their joy all the greater.

If you know Bob Goff, you know this is one of many areas where he shines. Spreading love, joy, and hope in a way few can match. He lives it and quickly led the way that day.

We also had a backpack full of beads and string to make jewelry.

Imagine Christmas morning or when your dog greets you after a vacation. That’s the kind of joy and excitement that erupted when we first broke out these treasures and started making bracelets.

I had never made a necklace or bracelet until that day, but you would never know it. According to this crew I was a world-renowned designer making rare one-of-a-kind pieces in real time.

One young man got my attention by literally pulling on my ear.

I kept trying to give him supplies to fend him off, but he was insistent on giving me something in return. First it was a cloth, next a balloon, and then a bead.

He was on a mission.

He would take a piece of jewelry from me, scurry off to deliver it to the others who were scared to come out of the tents, then bring back a gift upon his return.

At first, I rejected his offering.

I didn’t want him to think I needed anything in return. Then I realized he wanted to experience what I was experiencing. He wanted to see me smile and receive in gratitude. He wanted to give.

By giving, I made him smile, and by receiving I gave him dignity that lifted both of our spirits.

Shortly after I was back in my home environment—

I noticed that compliments and offers to help were landing in a different way. I felt centered in my worth enough to give others the gift of giving.

Here’s a question for us to think about:

How many times a day or week do we shuck and jive to avoid receiving help, compliments, gifts, and others offering us their seat or spot in line?

This happens with strangers and especially with those closest to us.

And when we do, how much are we robbing others from experiencing the gift of giving due to our discomfort in receiving?

It turns out receiving is way more vulnerable than giving.

When we give, we can control the emotional climate and therefore predict the outcome. Receiving means our emotional response is on display and our shame buttons are out front for the moment to push as it pleases.

Always giving and never receiving creates a validation trap that can leave you never getting enough and therefore depleting yourself and your loved ones, while on the desperate hunt for worth.

Often the biggest gift we can give is humbly and graciously receiving from another.

Though it may seem counter intuitive, it can be good practice. God longs for us to slow down and receive His love as much as He wants us to chase and spread His message. Without it, we are sharing words and theory rather than grace and love.

When we receive, we are mirroring to others the power of giving.

When people show up in distress needing help, allow them to also help you.

Although it’s easier to compliment and give people fish when their hungry, receiving from others when they feel they have nothing to offer can teach them to fish again.

You will provide them with far more than resources; you will provide them with worth and value.

Giving and receiving is the core of relationships and “doing relationship” will keep us out of judgment and in love. God smiles and love wins when everyone has a seat at the table.

All we must do is receive.

Why It’s Sometimes Better to Receive Than Give is a post from: Storyline Blog

What My Mother Taught Me

From the Storyline team:

Shauna spoke this powerful message at the Q women event in New York City and we thought you would love to hear it as well. The full video is below, as well as a shortened transcript.

Everyone knows those kids who peak in middle school, or high school, or college. My mom will be sixty-two next week, and she’s never been more alive, more whole, more filled to the brim with passion and energy for life.

My mom is a global soul:

a poet, an activist, a woman of creativity and conviction and vision, a woman I aspire to be like in a million ways.

Before all that, though, my mom was a sensitive, introverted girl, born in Michigan in the 1950s, raised in a traditional church environment, one that valued niceness above all else.

Also fear of God and hell, but more than anything, niceness.

My mom married my dad when she was 22, and together they started a church called Willow Creek when she was 23.

When she was 24, I was born.

Their fledgling community needed leaders, and while they had not yet agreed upon their theology of gender, they gave leadership roles to the most spiritually mature, most trustworthy individuals. Many of them were women.

Frankly, I didn’t know until I went away to college that this wasn’t the case for all churches and for all women. I was shocked, to be honest, and heartbroken. It had never occurred to me that so many people just like me were being sidelined, unable to develop the gifts God gave them, unable to use them within the context of church life.

I almost can’t put into words how deeply thankful I am to have been raised in, and now serve in, a church that celebrates and affirms women in every way.

As our church grew, all those years ago, while my mom had the full support of our church’s core value of non-gender-based-giftedness, practical concerns pushed her further and further from her role as founder into primary care giving parent and home manager.

My dad’s intense schedule and my mom’s traditional upbringing urged them into a strict gender roles. My mom was home, always.

My dad was at church. A lot.

She was an excellent care-giver. An attentive and gentle mother, a loving parent. But in her own words, she was not happy. We had a good, good mom. But we did not have a happy one.

Seventeen years after she became a pastor’s wife, she walked into a counselor’s office and said,

“I don’t know who I am anymore. Something has to change.”

Little by little, my mom began to look inside herself, to consider for the first time in almost 20 years what it was she really loved, what she was made to do. Through trial and error, through counseling, through prayer and friendship and hard work, she rediscovered the gifts and passions that drew her to social work all those years ago.

She began to serve with our urban partners in the city of Chicago, and took trips to Latin America.

She found that she felt more alive sitting in a squalid shanty town in Mexico passing out canned peaches to little barefoot kids than she did in the affluent suburbs we lived in.

She found that her gifts were about helping people, not administrating carpool schedules.

Though she couldn’t give up the carpool schedule, she found that she was far less drained by it when she was able to use those gifts of compassion and mercy a couple times a week or a couple times a month.

This journey she was on began when I was fourteen.

I was just learning what it meant to be a woman. And the woman I was watching most closely was just beginning to reshape her definition, and in turn, mine.

Watching my mother while I as a young teenager gave me a front row seat to a hard, messy, important, beautiful transformation. I watched my mother become herself. I watched her come alive. I watched her discover her gifts. I watched her eyes sparkle when she returned from a meeting or a trip. I listened to her bubbling over with passion about what she was reading or learning.

And as I watched her, I promised myself that I would follow this new example she was leaving for me.

I loved it in her, and I wanted it for myself.

For all those years, it was not narrow theological boundaries that kept my mom from pursuing her gifts and passions.

Essentially, it was the overwhelming practical concerns.

And both my mom and my dad look back now with regret, that they allowed the logistical challenge of raising young children to fall primarily on her. They are the first to say that they wish they would have worked so much harder to find creative solutions for the practical concerns so they could both have pursued their passions.

They look at how Aaron and I and many of our friends, are struggling to shape our marriages and family life in a new way, and they say to us over and over,

“Don’t give up. What you’re doing is important.”

My mom pushes me in such a healthy, loving way to use my gifts, to lead and teach, to write and travel, and part of her fire for that is because she knows, first hand, how painful life is when you’re not living out of your passions.

I told her that I was telling these stories today, the stories of her life and mine and how they connect, her example to me as a woman in the church. I asked her what I should tell you, and this is what she told me. She said:

“You tell them I found my voice in my forties and my vocation in my fifties. So the good news is that it’s not too late for any of you. But if at all possible, don’t wait that long. Don’t wait the decades that I did—decades of depression and exhaustion. Just because in one season or another you can’t pour forty hours a week into creative work you love doesn’t mean you give it up entirely. Pour four hours a week into it—or four hours a month. Keep your dreams alive and they’ll energize you. Don’t let logistics stand in the way. It’s not worth it.”

I’ll be the first one to tell you I’m not doing it perfectly.

I’ll be the first one to tell you it’s a complicated dance my friends and I are attempting—to have vocations while our children are still little, to use our gifts both in our homes and in our churches and workplaces. It would be simpler do all one now, and then do the other later.

But frankly, if I tried that, my mother would be the first one to show up on my doorstep and say “No way, Shauna. I didn’t walk that long path of depression and passionless days so that you could recreate them.”

“You don’t have to do it the way I did. So please don’t.”

Everyone benefits when women tap into the passions and use the gifts that God has given them. The church benefits, families benefit, marriages benefit, businesses and non-profits benefit. Everyone wins when women discover and live out of the gifts and passions God gave them.

It doesn’t have to look the same for every woman in every season.

There will be an ebb and flow.

Some seasons will allow for some ways of living and serving, and some will allow for others.

When my mom turned sixty, my best friends and hers gathered around my dinner table for lots of food and wine and laughter and storytelling. I’ve known her best friends for years, of course, but as the night went on, I realized I didn’t know how they all came to be friends.

One after another, these women I’ve known for decades told the stories of how they first became connected with my mom. And the constant in all those stories is that her honesty invited them to be honest, too.

Her writing and speaking and truth telling—so deeply against the grain for most pastors’ wives—made these women feel like they could tell the truth too.

We sat around that table for hours—

my friends and hers—our plates filled and refilled, glasses filled and refilled.

We told stories and read poems and passages from the Bible and lines from songs, toasting and celebrating all the ways my mom has made our lives better, has inspired us and set us free, and has been an example for us of how life can be if we dare.

• • •

Shauna will be joining us for this year’s Storyline Conference. If you love hearing from her as much as we do, join us in Chicago November 5-7. Grab your tickets before July 16th to get as much as $100 off your ticket price and also to get access to four online video chats.

What My Mother Taught Me is a post from: Storyline Blog

Five Articles I Sent My Staff This Week

As a staff, we are committed to learning and growing, both professionally and personally. One of the ways we do that is by reading. Below are some of the most current things we’re reading together.

If you’re in need of something great to read this weekend, start here.

14 Companies With Catchy Taglines

via HubSpot

Since, as a staff, we work to help businesses clarify their messaging, we’re always looking for other companies who do this well. Great examples here.

Two Types of Thinkers: Which Type Are You?

via Michael Hyatt

This is a distinction I’ve seen in my personal and my professional life. As a business, and as people, I want to make sure we’re doing the better kind of thinking.

4 Easy Ways to Improve Company Culture

via Gary Vaynerchuck

We really have a fantastic company culture. I don’t spent a lot of time with other companies, but I wouldn’t trade our culture for the world. I think we do these four things well.

10 Loyalty Lessons From Brands with Super Fans

via Inc

What is it that makes you trust the companies you buy from, and that brings you back to those products again and again? Fascinating insights here for any business or even personal brand.

5 Myths of Great Workplaces

via Harvard Business Review

I love coming to work everyday. I work with an inspiring group of people and we all support each other in our dreams. But what this article says is true. None of that comes without hard work.

Five Articles I Sent My Staff This Week is a post from: Storyline Blog

What Your Overly Busy Life Might be Costing You

“Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” – Mary Oliver, The Summer Day

Photo Credit: Irene Nobrega, Creative Commons

I will never forget the first drawing class I took – our teacher walked up to the easel, and drew a dot. She then asked, “what is this?”

Several answers ensued:

“A period.”

“A circle.”

“A ball.”

She slowly walked back and forth as the answers slowed.

“A line.” I said.

She looked at me and raised her eyebrows.

“A cylinder,” said another student. And the teacher began to smile as a new set of answers ensued. Answers that went beyond the thing we saw on the board, imagining what that dot could be if given a different perspective.

“Nail”

“Pencil”

“Tower”

“A line, which is really the side of a door, which is a whole massive house, which is…”

You get the idea.

Yes, it may be a dot, but maybe that is just the bird’s-eye-view of what is actually something entirely different.

It’s all perspective, isn’t it?

I see this, you see that. This person sees wreckage, another sees re-birth; gain, or loss. Each circumstance is vividly real. But it is a choice, what will we do, what will we see?

My husband and I are just wrapping up the very long, grueling and beautiful process of writing, recording, producing and releasing our album, “One Wild Life” and this Mary Oliver quote was in our heads the whole time.

We thought about the practice of sight, choosing to feel all of life, choosing to see something beautiful in it all.

If I was a victim to my circumstances, I could sit in my house and be grumpy for good reasons.

Like all of the bills I leave stuffed in the mailbox, hoping “they” will eventually think I don’t exist anymore; explosive poo diapers that occur at airports, TV blaring news of earthquakes and floods and despair.

The dot is just one of the many bars of a jail that makes me feel trapped.

But when I rest, when I choose balance—

to be in each moment, each season, not running like mad from a hard season but welcoming it; when I choose to focus my eyes instead of letting them dart about like a rabid squirrel, I see something else…the dot is a lifeline.

Something to grasp onto that helps me see a different view.

And suddenly I’m not afraid of life’s all-encompassing emotions.

The chaos is present because life is bursting at every point.

Pain has its value; love has its value; and it all is valuable and meaningful because they all build on each other. We want the summits and fear the valleys, but when we can find the value and meaning in it all I think we unlatch something sacred about life.

Yesterday in the park, my daughter went running after a man selling swirly sparkly bouncy balls with glitter ribbon attached

(Yes, we are still working on running after strangers with toys or candy or anything remotely sparkly). I remembered having one of those bouncy balls when I was little, guaranteed hours upon hours of fun.

With releasing an album, these past two weeks have been one of the busiest I can remember. All my brain wanted to do was let my daughter play while I check off the list of “to dos.” And I had to make a choice of fully playing with this silly girl of mine or letting myself be half there. Though many times I have not made the right choice, I’m glad to say that we bought that fricking swirly sparkly bouncy ball.

We threw it, tackled each-other, and accidentally tackled other people. We played like mad until the whole thing was in pieces.

Living a wild life is about fully living.

It’s not just jam packing so much into our everyday that we only feel exhaustion. It is about cutting out the noise so we give ourselves over to what our souls were made for.

To some, it may be climbing Mount Everest, skydiving, or beating the unbeatable odds. It may be drilling wells for those who need clean water, building homes after an earthquake, or providing medicine to those who can’t afford it.

It may be about caring for your grandmother or parent, changing diapers and getting up in the wee hours of the morning because this seemingly small gesture is brimming with love and meaning.

And sometimes, a wild life is all about buying a swirly sparkly bouncy ball.

“One wild life” speaks of both quiet rest and brave adventure. It has nothing to do with how “grand” the gesture is, but how brave you can be, and how much heart you can muster in doing it.

Mother Teresa said “…do small things with great love.”

Life is hard and beautiful and chaotic and poetic and wild and boring and all. It is a dot and it is a line. And we get one chance to live it fully.

As my family and I head into this summer, we are taking steps to cut out the noise, focus our sight, so we can hopefully see different perspectives and beauty in the all.

What Your Overly Busy Life Might be Costing You is a post from: Storyline Blog

Why Complaining Doesn’t Get You What You Want And What Will

We have a rule in my house. It goes like this: you can’t complain about something if you aren’t willing to do something about it.

Photo Credit: Juanedc, Creative Commons

So in practical terms, if you have a headache, you aren’t allowed to talk about how much it hurts until you take an aspirin and drink some water. If you are upset about the way something is going in the house (like the dishes aren’t done), you can either 1) do them, or 2) ask politely for the other person to do them.

But until you’ve done one of those two things, you can’t talk about how frustrating it is or how you wish it were somehow different.




If you have a frustration, you must come with a solution.

This has worked well for us.

One of us—I won’t say who, but one of us who is writing this blog post—has had trouble with complaining in the past. And complaining is really just what I talked about above: talking about how much you dislike something without presenting any solutions.

It’s as simple as that.

It might not seem like that’s the case. In fact, when you’re the one complaining, it usually doesn’t feel that dramatic. It probably just feels like you’re describing something. “Oh, look at that tree over there. It’s green and has leaves.”

“The dishes are dirty—again.”

“My head hurts.”

But if you’re the one listening to the complainer, it is actually pretty upsetting. There are two main reasons for this.

First, complainers make you feel like you have to fix their problem. When they don’t come with a solution, the unspoken message is: “I need a solution from you.”
And second, complainers make everybody miserable. Misery loves company, right? And when complainers are miserable, they drag everybody down with them.

Bottom line: I like my life so much better now that I’ve caught myself complaining and tried to curb the habit.

For that reason, I’m thankful for this rule.

Because it’s helped me realize that not complaining doesn’t mean casually accepting life as it is, even when it isn’t what I want it to be. On the contrary. It means taking responsibility where I have it and letting go where I don’t.

“On the next commercial break, I’m going to do the dishes.”

“I need an aspirin. Would you be willing to get me one?”

“I hope I feel better by morning.”

When you begin to come up with solutions for your problems, you realize there’s really no need to complain. Not everything goes our way, but we have far more control over the outcomes we experience than we had ever realized.

Why Complaining Doesn’t Get You What You Want And What Will is a post from: Storyline Blog

One Thing Parents Must Teach Their Children

A while back, my friend Matthew Perryman Jones sent out a tweet saying there was a princess party in his living room, including a picture of his three little girls, dressed up in frilly outfits.

You could tell the tweet went out from a moment of pure delight.

How could you not delight in that?

Photo Credit: Abigail Batchelder, Creative Commons

Around the same time, I read a quote from John Sowers’ book Fatherless Generation about how quickly our girls wilt when their fathers leave, how they long to know they are beautiful and wanted and have the God-given power to endear a man.

And for obvious reasons, the picture and the quote struck me pretty hard.

Young men and young women really do want the same things.

They want to know they are important, to know they matter, to know they can impact the world, to know they are wanted and so on.

Of course, these desires are expressed in different ways, but children of both sexes gain, early on, a confidence that they are on the earth for a reason and not as a mistake.

And they don’t learn this from a book.

The idea we matter is more important to learn in childhood than in any other stage.

And where do they learn it?

They learn it from adults—from whether or not they get off the phone, make eye contact, get mad too quickly, love them enough to stay married, love them enough to protect them from danger, even from themselves.

It’s a huge responsibility.

The message God wants to communicate to children is entrusted to you, to the way you look at them or celebrate them when they walk into a room.

If they get that message, other sources will confirm it for the rest of their lives. If they don’t, they’ll struggle to believe the overwhelming obviousness of God’s love.

The acclaimed poet Maya Angelou, when asked how she had become such a great poet, responded by saying she’d become a great poet because when she was a little girl, her father’s eyes lit up when she walked into the room.

Love your sons. Love your daughters.

Teach them what’s already true; that they are delightful.

One Thing Parents Must Teach Their Children is a post from: Storyline Blog

A Pastor’s Reflection on Coming Out of The Closet

Some days I am not that strong.

A little over a year ago I came out of the closet after nearly three decades of trying to convince myself that what I knew wasn’t true.

This past year has been spent slowly telling my family, my friends, and even my former co-workers from time spent on church staffs, Christian non-profits and Christian universities, where I knew my news would not be particularly welcomed—I am gay.

Photo Credit: Christopher Michel, Creative Commons

And some days, it’s just so much harder than I imagined.

Most days I carry the load of being gay well.

I am confident in my choices, I am patient with those who do not understand why I am the way I am, and I am comfortable with the gray of not knowing what the future holds.

I am able to see the folly of the dream I held for years that one day I would find a mystical prayer or a magical therapy that would allow me to feel normal and a part of things without constant explanation.

I am able to leave behind visions of having a wife and children, who we created together, all fitting in with my family just as well as my other in-laws.

But some days?

Some days I am not that strong.

Most days my assurance in a God who not only loves me but fights for me is what carries me through.

I can step fully into the freedom of my faith and my attraction and stride with chest out and chin high. I am able to walk in the truth that all days begin with new mercies and His grace really is sufficient for my failings as well as my triumphs.

I don’t doubt that I am loved by those around me and easily see it in their eyes and in their touch. The darkness is held at bay by my hope in a bright future and the beauty of every waking moment.

But some days? Some days I am not that strong.

Most days I don’t let fear be my primary emotion.

Most days I don’t cry with every pause in action. Most days I don’t mind having another emotionally taxing conversation where I have to reveal that, for the majority of my life, I was lying to the people I loved most.

Most days I can put my own feelings aside for the sake of conversation and community to be a part of a Church that says I am fully welcome and accepted, but not if I choose to fall in love.

Most days I am not embarrassed to be me.

Most days are great.

But today I am not that strong. I can’t be alone in this.

For the parent who has days where she doesn’t feel like being a selfless snot rag for one more moment.

For the caretaker who’s not sure what one more dementia-fueled, hateful rant will do to his self-control.

For the teacher who must face another boldfaced lie regarding undone homework.

For the pastor whose church is slowly dying, right along side his own soul and marriage.

For the addict whose all-consuming cravings only have moments of waning, but never moments of complete release.

For the teenager who passes by mirror after mirror, telling her absolute lies about where her beauty comes from.

I know there are days you are not that strong.

It must have been those kind of days where Paul prayed for God to remove his torment. In his second letter to his friends in the church in Corinth, he said that he pleaded three times to be freed from his pain.

I wonder if the other days he felt strong enough to carry it, but those three days he was not that strong.

Paul’s pleas for strength to overcome his torment were not left unanswered. God responded with, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Reading this usually leads me to remember a verse that follows a few lines later as “For when I am weak, He is strong.”

But that is not what the verse says.

It actually says, “For when I am weak, then I am strong.”

This always shocks me.

I get God being strong in my weakness. The image of me curled up on the floor, no longer able to stand under the weight of my failings, softness and shame, behind a wall of God’s impenetrable light makes sense to me.

I understand a Father showing His steadfastness and strength by taking this weeping and wounded child up in His arms and slowly walking home with a gentle smile on His face while He whispers, “There, there, it is going to be OK.”

It makes sense that, in my moments of weakness, God can shine all the brighter as the hero to my victim.

But that is not what this verse says.

It says, “For when I am weak, I am strong.”

If I can identify with Paul’s words at all, yes, God is strong, but so am I… because of my weakness, not in spite of it.

In my current moment of weakness as I read that verse—

I’m not sure if it brings hope or more guilt. The guilt comes from thinking that maybe being strong is just a matter of mind shift and if I could only think of myself as strong, instead of weak, then I might actually become strong.

So if I just bucked up and pulled myself up by my bootstraps then I would feel better or, at the very least, if my feelings weren’t able to catch up to the truth quite yet, then I would know in my heart I was going to eventually be OK.

While I am typing this, a notification just came up that my ex-fiancé posted something on my Facebook wall. She doesn’t know I’m gay yet and that conversation needs to come soon.

Today I don’t feel that strong.

And what is crazy beyond crazy is that I am writing this on a day where somehow in light of all of that, I am strong.

So are you.

Paul said so.

Strength doesn’t always have to look like strength. Storyline Blog

Why Mitt Romney Lost The Election And Why Hillary Might Lose, Too

Mitt Romney lost the election for many reasons, but the main reason might be that he rode into town as the hero. He kept talking about his qualifications to be President, rather than telling the story of the voter.

Americans don’t care whether a candidate is a hero.

Photo Credit: monkeyz_uncle, Creative Commons

They didn’t vote for John McCain, nor John Kerry, both of whom were war heroes.

Instead, they chose candidates who positioned themselves as guides.

A guide in a story is somebody like Yoda or Haymitch, somebody who understands the hero’s problem and has a plan to help them win the day.

So whether you’re an author trying to sell a book, a business owner wanting to get customers in the door, or even a pastor desiring to lead people into an authentic experience of faith, know this:

If you talk too much about how awesome you are, and too little about how awesome your reader, viewer or even customer is, you’ll lose people—their votes, their purchases and their attention.

Compare this screenshot from Mitt Romney (below) after he lost the election to the one from Barack Obama’s website.

Mitt’s website is all about him.

Mitt is alone in the picture. He talks about “still believing in the American People” as though they’ve done something wrong. The feel of the text is that he’s not listening, he’s just dictating.

And people didn’t want to follow.

Compare that to Obama’s website.

Obama is pictured with people. His text is all about how you can win the day and how he’s mobilizing you to be powerful and heroic. He understands the voter is the hero and he’s the guide.

Hillary is making a few early mistakes.

The main mistake is she’s talking too much about herself.

She’s trying so hard to come off like the “common American” that she’s losing track of what she should really be talking about, and that’s the voter.

She needs to talk about voters all day and all night.

She needs to say their names, talk about their needs, express their fears and offer them a plan so they can finish their heroic journey.

Instead, she’s bringing her mother out to tell a story about how she was also once poor.

It’s not going to work.

We know Hillary is not poor and we know her life hasn’t been common an several decades.

The only way she can prove that she’s still in touch with common folk is to stop talking about herself and start talking about them.

So what does this have to do with you?

The lesson for all of us—even those of us who never run for president—is this: If we talk too much about ourselves, and not enough about others, we’ll lose in the end. Storyline Blog

Five Articles I Sent My Staff This Week

As a staff, we are committed to learning and growing, both professionally and personally. One of the ways we do that is by reading. Below are some of the most current things we’re reading together.

If you’re in need of something great to read this weekend, start here.

Shut Down Your Office. You Now Work in Slack.

via Medium

This week, as a staff, we finally decided to bite the bullet and join Slack (an internal communication tool for companies). We won’t be shutting down our in-person office any time soon, but that’s mostly just because we like each other too much.

This One Simple Thing Can Make Your Life Much Better

via Time

You’ll understand why when you read the article, but I loved the idea that this simple daily task can improve your life. I know it has for me. Great points here.

Are People Who Take Vacations the Ones Who Get Promoted?

via Harvard Business Review

The other day our staff took the whole afternoon to eat lunch together and play a round of frisbee golf. Why? Because of many of the reasons discussed in this article. Rest makes us more productive.

How to Be A Big Shot

via The Player’s Tribune

This is a fascinating article about how an NBA star found the courage to take more shots on the basketball court. He also talk about how what looks perfect from the outside isn’t usually perfect when you see behind the scenes. Great read.

What’s the Difference Between Shyness and Introversion?

via Susan Cain

Most of you know I’m an introvert and a big fan of Susan Cain and her book Quiet. Here she answers some reader questions about the difference between being introverted and being shy.

Five Articles I Sent My Staff This Week is a post from: Storyline Blog