The best of the blog: behind the scenes on organization, archives, and new reading collections for your weekend.

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“Sarah, how long does it take to build a website?”

That’s a great question. I get asked this question all the time, not surprisingly. And the answer, well–the answer is difficult to pin down.

Because it’s not just about the design, or the bones of the site–it’s about the content. And the organization of that content.

Building this site has been a labor of love.

Building this site is and has been a labor of love (and increasingly a business), and it’s taken me a very long time to do—I’ve been blogging for three years and I’ve written nearly 300 posts. The simple reason I’ve kept doing it is because I love writing. I love learning, ideas, and growth—and I learn through writing, philosophical contemplation, and grappling with ideas.

But how can you show how complex, layered, and deep a site is with a pixelated interface? The surface of a flat screen–whether a tablet, mobile device, or computer–only hints at the edges of the body of work; and often, we only notice the things that work poorly.

The length of time it takes to build a website is directly related to the amount of content that’s within the site.

And content creation is often the most difficult component. (I know: I’ve built and designed sites for people and waited months for the copy for the About and services pages to come; and I’ve done the same on projects where creating the paragraph to describe who I am and what I do takes an incredibly long time).

Adding new systems, getting organized, and site changes:

Over the past few month, I’ve been building into this site several new systems–from changing the frequency of posting to adding a newsletter and creating new sign-up forms–and I’ve also gone back and revamped and updated the archives and best of page. The complete record of all of the posts I’ve ever written (including some of the embarrassing early starts) are there.

How’d I get here? Simple. I wrote 250 essays, and I’m still showing up.

Going through all of the old content, watching my journey, looping together not-before-seen threads–let me discover new themes and do a macro-business audit. What do I continuously feel pulled to write about? What pieces were the standout pieces? Which ones surprised me? Are there areas and places I could improve the quality?

Some essays I would edit, massively. Time gave me perspective and new information. Others are poorly written (yup, happens to me all the time: the only way to get to the good stuff is to write it all out).

The benefit? I have 250 essays (well, probably 100 of those I would actually use). I can take these essays and build them into longer pieces; I can learn from them; I can build out longer documents by stringing them together, and I can start to layer complexity into future thought pieces.

So today, my treat: here’s a sampling of the best of the blog. Dig in, if you’d like. Have a cup of coffee and join me. I’ve curated what I think are the best of the blog, below. Enjoy.

On writing:

Life philosophy and the bigger picture:

Getting started, motivation:

Reminders, or how to keep going:

Making things happen–actually getting it done:

Psychology and the inner workings of the mind:

Useful tools, tricks, and tips:

Reflection, goal-setting, and tools for review:

Modest minimalist, and the art of having less:

Personal narrative and growing into your future self:

Reminders of kindness and empathy:

Swimming, running, athleticism, yoga + movement:

See the full archives or an extended list of the best-of-blog, in the menu up top or in the links. Thanks for being here.

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Are you making these email mistakes? Here’s how to fix them.

Chess in Brooklyn

A few weeks ago I met up with a good friend of mine over wine and dinner and we got to talking about email–the number one form of communication we all use, and the fact that so many of us could do it a lot better. If you use email or any other digital medium, chances are you’re writing far more than you think you are–and your writing is what represents you.

Email is writing, plain and simple, and it often gets us into trouble.

Amber and I chatted about email, and what mistakes people often make, and how to fix those mistakes through better writing (and strategic thinking) to improve your professional (and personal) life. She was fascinated with the writer’s workshop, so over the course of a delicious glass of wine (or perhaps two), I shared with her nice ways that people often make mistakes in email. (To see the original essay, check out the Fast Company article featured earlier this Fall):

Here are nine common mistakes you might be making:

1. Sending emails only when you need something.

The best time to build any relationship is before you need something, not waiting until the moment you need something. A friend of mine gets into the habit of sending five thoughtful emails each Sunday night to check in with people who he likes, admires, or thinks of. An email might look like,

Hey, saw some great news about you—just wanted to say congratulations! I love watching what you’re up to through my various news feeds, and I wanted to send a note to say how much I hope you’re doing well.

It’s a great way to remember to reach out to folks you want to be in touch with, and an actionable way of practicing gratitude.

2. Forgetting that there’s a person on the other side of your email.

Just as you wouldn’t walk into a friend’s house for dinner and bark out a command, often those little niceties in the intro and end of a message can go a long way. Social cues aren’t dated constructs; they’re valuable warm-up phrases in communication. Start by saying hi, comment on someone’s latest achievements, and wish the other person well.

Hey stranger! It’s been a long time. If Facebook’s telling me the scoop, it looks like you had an eventful Spring…congrats on all of your successes!

3. Using the first person too much.

Many emails–and essays–are written exclusively in first person. Shift the focus to the recipient and consider what they want, need, or would like to hear. After writing an email, scan it quickly for how many times you use the word “I.” See if you can edit some of them out.

For example: “I’m teaching a new writer’s workshop this Spring, and I want help sharing the program. I think you’d be interested in it” (all “I” statements) can be turned into:

Hey, Leslie. A while back we chatted about ways to improve your writing skills–I wanted to reach out about this writing workshop for creatives that’s just launched. I thought you might enjoy taking a look. Let me know if this is what you were looking for.

4. Sending the email at the wrong time.

Just because you’ve written it now doesn’t mean it needs to be sent at this exact moment. Delaying the send is one of the most powerful and underutilized tools of emailing.

Evaluate whether or not the message is urgent and needs to be replied to immediately. If you’re cleaning up your inbox during your scheduled time, fire off the messages that are urgent and consider sending messages in the morning.

Scheduling emails to be sent in 24 or 48 hours gives you (and your clients) space to breathe between nonurgent projects, and it also sets up a rhythm of communication whereby your client no longer expects you to reply instantaneously. The more structure and parameter you give to the form of your messaging, the easier it is for the client to learn what to expect. You can either train someone to expect instantaneous answers at all times, or to learn the rhythm that’s best for you and your business.

Then, in the case of an emergency, if the client emails and you need to solve the problem straight away, you can send a quick message late in the evening or on a weekend. In this scenario, you become the hero to your client.

5. Sending to too many people.

More recipients in the “To” field does not mean that you’ll necessarily get more answers. In the age of digital marketing, people who blast messages in broadcast form without understanding who is in the “to” line can erode their chances of a message being opened. A perfect email is one that’s sent to exactly who it needs to go to, with a specified desired outcome.

The more specific you can be about who you ask, the better. Asking everyone in your network is bound to get you a bunch of silence in our overconnected world, or unsubscribes and un-follows across your various platforms. It’s better to ask three people who are very well equipped to answer your query than 15 people who aren’t interested at all.

The more specific you can get about who should be receiving the message, the better. One direct ask that results in a yes is better than asking 50 people who don’t respond (and spamming their inboxes).

6. Knowing nothing about the person receiving your email.

Do your homework on the recipient. One great tool to glean fast information about who you’re talking to is Rapportive, a sidebar that lets you see the latest public posts (and a picture) of the person you’re communicating to.

7. Forgetting to send updates or interim messages.

If you’re waiting for an important message from someone, the time spent waiting for a delivery can seem interminable. If there’s a long delay in sending an item that’s highly anticipated or expected, or you’ve experienced a few hiccups–send a one-liner email to update your receiver on the status of the project. You’ll know that you need to send a quick note when you start to get anxious about not delivering or they seem to be a bit flippant.

Sample copy:

Hey, Sarah. Just wanted to send a quick update about the delivery of our proposal. We’re set to get you something by next Friday, but we might be a few days early. Talk to you next week! Let me know if you have any questions in the meantime.
Hey, Sarah. I know we touched base last month and I’ve been far too slow in getting back to you. I’m still working through the pile on my plate, but I should have something in the next 2-3 weeks. Didn’t want to keep you guessing! Talk soon,

8. Making messages too long.

Depending on the nature of the message, emails can vary from a few words to thousands of words. The longer the email, the less likely that someone will read the entire thing. Long emails generally mean that a larger strategy, framework, or document might be in order. Some companies shift to using four-sentence emails and linking to longer pieces of work through Google Documents, Asana, or Basecamp (or other project management software).

9. Using email exclusively.

Efficiency does not necessarily mean one single system. Often, redundancy in communication can be extremely helpful, as each tool (video, chat, email, Skype) adds a layer of human nuance back into the correspondence that’s happening. Laura Roeder’s digital marketing team is distributed across multiple countries, and in order to stay in touch (and in concert with each other), they focus on “over-communication,” through the use of multiple tools at once.

Now: Four ways to focus on writing better emails:

  • Tell sticky stories. Everything makes more sense with an illustration. Highlight and example, illustrate an ideal customer avatar, or tell a specific instance of a problem you had. Setting the context and the stage (that seems obvious to you, the writer), makes it easier for people to understand the pain point, the context, and the reason why you’re writing. When people can see your story–who you are, where you come from, why you’re doing what you’re doing–it’s easier for them to become a part of it.
  • Use the four-sentence, one-link rule: Keep your email to under four sentences (or five!). Focus on the pain point or problem you’re solving. Limit yourself to only one link. If you have to, make that link a document.
  • Be responsive and reflective: Observe how others communicate and adapt your style to meet them midway. Customize your communication by mirroring the style of a received message. Does someone send short messages with formal addresses? Respond in style.
  • Bookmark emails that you love with Evernote. Use the vast number of emails in front of you (and in your inbox) as clues to great messaging. Watch what emails you open first and are most excited about. Create a few folders in your mailbox system for great introductions, sample short messages, and thank-you notes that you like. Keep these for future use if you’re ever in a bind. In any art, there’s no need to reinvent the wheel–and paying attention to great writers (and what we personally enjoy) is a great way to get started.

Email is our number one form of communication, which means that everyone is a writer. The most powerful thing you can do in both your personal and business life is learn how to write well and tell great stories. Messages that persuade, content that converts, and language that inspires action are critical for getting what you want.

What do you do? What hacks do you have to make email better (and more bearable) for everyone?

The power of breath: why breathing happens before anything else.

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It’s not always easy to breathe.

Breathing—the intake of oxygen and the exhalation of carbon dioxide—is life’s essential force. It’s the first step our physical bodies take towards making all other actions possible, including thinking.

In swimming, the rhythm of breathing is essential: you only have a few opportunities to catch a breath; it’s about timing your intake with your arms, kicks, and rotation. Without air, you can’t work the water.

Breath happens before anything.

Out in the open water, in the waves of the ocean, with the salt water sprays and the swells that take over, sometimes I turn my face upwards and a wave slams me in the face. I close my mouth, pass by that opportunity, hold the air in my lungs, and try again on the next cycle. Sometimes it takes a few turns before I get to suck in some oxygen.

My relationship with breathing has always been tenuous: when I was eleven, I was diagnosed with asthma. I learned my lungs were restricting my airways—and it would jump on me like a sudden cold, onset in minutes, causing breathing to be painful.

I would hide my inhalers, because I didn’t want something that gave me a crutch or a reason that I couldn’t be as good as anyone else. I learned how to push my back open against a floor, to rub my lungs to clear them, and how to hold my breath to stop my body from panicking.

I also learned how to hold my breath for a really long time. Getting into the pool every day gave me an intimate familiarity with the ways my lungs worked.

Swimming actually taught me how to breathe again.

Today, three years later, I’ve become an open water swimmer, chasing longer distances with each ocean adventure I find. I will routinely be late to work or leave for long lunch hours just to spend those hours in the ocean, my friend, the place where my soul is restored.

I need to touch the water, to splash, and to feel the curve of a wave beneath my hands. I’ll grab a board, and float out to sea, heart and head against the board, listening and feeling the rhythm beneath my body. My breathing will inadvertently sync up with the ocean swells, and the anxiety of my digital, corporate life gets left ashore. I’ll get up early, earlier than the sun, wander down to the ocean, and get into the water just to tune my body back into the rhythm of the earth.

But I had to learn how.

Your breath: check in with yourself:

First, right now, as you’re sitting at the computer or staring at your screen to read this post: what does your breath pattern look like? Do you notice it? Are you breathing? Some people stop breathing while they are reading, and they raise their shoulders and hold tension in their bodies while at the computer. (A telltale sign is if you let out periodic sighs. Listen to others if you’re in a room, or set an audio-recorder on yourself for an hour. You’ll forget about it and can then listen to the breath sounds play back. It’s fascinating.)

Next, find a space to lie on the floor. Take a deep breath. Take ten slow breaths, with your eyes closed. Push the air all the way in and out of your lungs. Where are the bottoms of your lungs? Where are the tops of them? Can you fill the space entirely?

Practice changing the cadence of your breathing. Take 10 very quick micro-breaths. Feel your rib cage move in and out. Feel your heart race, your pulse jump, feel the reaction.

Breathe again, slowly.

Your breath is the foundation on top of which every other activity takes place. You can train it, just like you can train everything else. Change your body rhythms by controlling your breath.

Breathe.

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I originally wrote this post for Julien Smith’s Homework series during the epic campaign to swim naked from Alcatraz to San Francisco. Breathe is powerful, so I’m reposting as part of this November series while I’m away in Bali

Bali, bliss, and a big old birthday: taking a life, work, and digital retreat.

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 “Do great work, and love–that is the meaning of life.”

Bali, bliss, and a big old birthday.

It all started with a single post in February, 2010.

I had just gotten an extra job as a writer paying $10 per post, and I snapped it up. It was my side project. My writing was terrible. I was paid to give advice to new college graduates on how to navigate the corporate world, and despite being a few years into my own career, I still felt like I didn’t know what I was doing.

I started my blog–a friend set me up on a wordpress site and domain (which I didn’t quite understand). I wrote about not working too hard, how to recover from long work days, staying motivated, and allocating for food costs on measly budgets. I wrote book reviews and interviewed my professional friends in sports medicine, biotech, web design and more–to get their insights on what they’d learned on the job and how they crafted their careers.

Did I know what I was doing with the blog? Nope. No idea.

I just knew I wanted to write. So I wrote, every time I felt like I wanted to write about something.

I probably didn’t hit my stride until well after the first year, and I’m still learning. Each post, each month, and each iteration I continued to refine and hone my writing. I wandered through styles and posts and wrote about topics that felt like I should write about, but that truthfully I didn’t adore. But even though I didn’t know what to write about, I still wrote. I whittled. It got better. I adjusted. I said more about what I was thinking and feeling, less about what I thought people wanted to hear. It got better.

Fast-forward nearly four years later:

I’m celebrating. Big time.

I love (LOVE) what I do. I discovered an incredible connection with the written word, and I write as often as I can. I get to share it in community with other like-minded and incredible souls. I am blown away by the people I’ve met, and I’m so grateful to be a part of this. I celebrate through hard work, through experimentation, through hugs, and through trial-and-error. Tears and laughter are part of the process.

Because I’m celebrating a lot of things in this life right now, I’d love for you to join me in celebrating my birthday, this blog, and the community we share.

When I left my job earlier this year, I left in order to focus on a couple of things: movement (or health in my body), writing, and teaching. In the last few months, I’ve also started my own business, enrolled in yoga teacher training, launched several programs, and taken action on several dreams that had been sidelined for too long.

In order to do this, I saved for five years, paid down big piles of debt; gave up clothes shopping for a year; experimented with minimalism, sewing machines, and free-cycling; worked several side jobs, and hustled to make things work. I sold my car (finally), soaked up and swept up as much knowledge as I could, met incredible souls, friends and teachers, created new things, and built project after project.

Big, sweeping changes have happened alongside smaller, less outwardly-visible changes. Across all of this has been an emphasis on health, healing, and happiness. On mindfulness, movement, and growth.

Beyond the tactical and structural (quitting my job! signing up for yoga! moving! God, it sounds so much easier writing it!), there are also mental shifts changing, aligning, and expanding as I spend time listening and growing.

“You don’t have to be so busy,” the softer voice in my mind reminds me. “It’s okay to pause, reflect, and live inside of this quiet, vibrant stillness.” When I feel things–the sadness, the anger, the fear, the totality of being human–I spend more time resting in it, moving in it, moving through it. We work together, me and my emotions. It’s the human condition.

amber zuckswert teaching yoga in Bali

Amber Zuckswert teaching yoga in Bali.

Birthday bliss: taking a break in Bali.

In the spirit of health and healing, for my 30th birthday–and in honor of the work I’ve done over the past several years–I’m taking a digital sabbatical and sojourning to beautiful Bali paradise with Amy Rachelle and Amber Zuckswert for two weeks of meditation, yoga, reflection, and emotional healing. Bali is known as one of the most healing places in the world, and I’m joining a retreat group that’s focused on learning how to craft raw foods, heal the soul, and engage in mindfulness and meditation practices.

Nearly a decade ago, I started my career in architecture and design and I’ve been working nonstop ever since. For the last few years, I’ve been dreaming of taking a restful vacation–and yet I kept pushing it off. I promised myself that when I hit thirty, I’d take at least a few weeks to rest, recover, and recalibrate.

Beyond just a “vacation,” I’m opening up the mental space (and nooks and crannies!) for a reconsideration and reflection on what I’ve done, who I’ve become, and what I want to build. This marks the beginning of a different year in my life: one that’s less focused on being frenetic and more focused on being present. It’s time to celebrate, reflect, restore, and be fully Sarah–in the present, and in the moment.

I’ll be offline while I’m gone – completely unplugged and digitally unavailable – but in advance, I’ve written a series of essays that are coming out over the next few weeks.

In the spirit of reflection, birthdays, and changing decades:

This week I’ll transition out of the twenty-something decade and into the next decade (Holy smokes! I’m turning 30!). Last year we celebrated by raising $32,398 for charity: water for my 29th birthday, and the year before I wrote 28 in 52 notes, a years’ worth of lessons in one post.

In the spirit of letting things go, moving forward, taking care of yourself, and celebrating the year, here’s my annual birthday post–although I’m sure I’ll have a bigger round-up of notes and thoughts from unplugging in Bali. It can’t be a birthday without a bit of reflection on some of the learnings and highlights from the year. Here’s what I’ve learned (and am always learning):

Going pro, turning 30, and the biggest lessons from this year.

Place a lot of bets.

Try a lot of things. A year is a long time, and five years is a great amount of time to make more than just one thing happen. You can work a side hustle on the side of your day gig in a few minutes a day–write one page every other day and see what happens in a couple of months. Throw your work into the ring, and keep making your work. Try one connection or conference, and another. Don’t put all your money on one thing if you’re just starting. Get started, and test out a few things.

Be modular.

Build in iterative, successive capacities. Try things until something works, then adjust it so it works better. Put it out there. Keep going.

Do not work in isolation.

Seek feedback.

Ask for help.

Ask for everything. The more you ask, the more you get.

You don’t have to do what anyone else does.

You can do things no one has done before, you can be weird, you can be strange, and you can decide to do it differently than anything you’ve seen before. Be aware of the sheep mentality. Ask for exceptions. Modify the program to fit your needs. Learn about yourself, and make it better so you get better.

Take care of yourself.

You are the only one who can take care, and those small things—like going to sleep early, giving hugs, smiling, eating good food? They mean the world. Take very good care of yourself.

When you get better, the world benefits.

It’s not selfish.

The more you push, the more resistance there might be. Do it anyway.

The ego yells a lot of loud and scary things at you when you’re heading into moments of insight and brilliance. The more brilliantly you shine, the louder your ego–the voice that wants you to worry, to stay comfortable, to stay the same, to do things that feel safe–the louder it shouts. Listen to it like the dull roar of a stadium filled with fans, and not the shouty-shout voice it’s trying to be.

It really can be wonderful.

Be you.

“Be Sarah,” I write on my wall. (Thank you, Gretchen Rubin for the reminder to “Be Gretchen.”) Be you. “There’s nobody you-er than you,” says Doctor Seuss. Let yourself be you, deliciously and deliriously you. And the more YOU you are, the more wonder there is.

We all have self-doubts, demons, and critics.

And we all have stories. The person across from you is holding pain, hurt, and fear just like you are. We’ve all got something. Be kind and generous with their soul, and kind and generous with your own. Cradle your heart in the softness of the hammock of your ribs. Let it rest, fully, in the feeling of a breathe. Fill your lungs with love for you and the world around you, despite the pain.

Give up on dreams that you’ve tried on or dreams that you realize aren’t yours.

It’s not giving up if you don’t want it. For the longest time I had a dream to run a marathon by age 30–until I realized that I loved swimming, singing, dancing and yoga far, far more than running. And picturing myself at the end of a marathon just made me feel tired, not thrilled or excited. So sweep! I let that dream head on out the door. It wasn’t mine–it was just visiting. Finish it or punt. Know when to quit.

You don’t have to know how to explain yourself perfectly.

You can use as many words as you like, and you can screw up many times. It’s all fine. Start somewhere, tell a little story, and bit by bit we’ll get the picture.

Stories are how we understand and see the world.

We use stories to understand complex phenomenon and hang onto information. Watch, study, and listen carefully to the stories you’ve programmed in your brain and the stories you tell yourself about who you are. Changing the stories you tell yourself (through visualization, practice, and manifestation) can be incredibly powerful.

If it’s too big to do, make it smaller.

Seeing is an art, a study.

We’re designed to throw away most of the stimulus we receive because it’s too much to comprehend—we’re constantly simplifying things in our mind in order to understand them. The challenge of writing and of art is to learn how to see the world around us anew. If you want to learn how something works or how its made and marvel at it, try to draw it. Pull out a pen or pencil, a sheet of paper, and practice mapping the object onto the page. Rather than say that it’s impossible, or say that you’re terrible at drawing, study why you drew what you did. This is your brain schema, at work. This is the translation of space in the world into products in your hand. Keep practicing. Fix the little wiggles. Notice when you make a simple curve instead of the parabolic curves of the real thing.

Good is the enemy of the great.

(From Jim Collins): Iterate towards great, but also remember that complacency, comfort, and “good enough” are some of the most insidious enemies of making great work.

Being comfortable is not my end goal.

There’s so much joy on the other side of myriad discomforts: freedom, expression, learning, connection – many of these things can come after a bit of leaning into your edge. Yoga poses unlock freedom despite various levels of discomfort held in our joints. The payoff is expansion, self-awareness, reducing pain, and freedom. It’s worth it.

At the same time, understand when you’re pushing too hard, and when to yield to the universe.

When to soften, because the things will arrive in their good time. When to yield to grace, and move without force. Leaning into discomfort is not the same thing as pushing forcefully into all arenas.

Healing, health, and care are critical.

We all work too hard. It’s not about hustling indefinitely, although many folks hustle for decades before getting a break–it’s also about taking the time to heal yourself, help yourself, and be kind to yourself in the present moment. Health is critical. In my pursuit of projects, I’ve often sacrificed wellness in the aim to create great works. I’m softening this, and attempting to learn how to receive rest and healing even amidst the busy-ness.

And when I get back…

When I return, I’ll be hosting a micro-workshop focused on cultivating gratitude and grace in your spirit, life, and daily practices. It will begin on December 1st, and I’ll share the full details when I return. If you’re looking for inspiration to reflect, restore, and to practice more grace and gratitude in your lives, I encourage you to check back in late November for how to join the workshop. It will be delightful.

And as my birthday present:

By the time this post goes live, I’ll be curled up into a sleeping position with my jammies and my hat in an airplane heading forward in time to my destination. I’d love to hear from you while I’m gone, however, in the comments: share with me something–a gift, joy, or grace–that you’re giving to yourself of someone else this week.

How are you taking care of yourself? What gifts of grace can you give to yourself? What does healing look like for you?

With big internet hugs,

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The hidden power of doing interviews (and how to get better at them).

New York Building Fronts

I used to hate interviews. I stammered, I inserted words such as “like” and “um” a whole bunch, and my voice pitched up at the end of nearly every sentence.

I sounded exactly like what I was—a young 20-something female with insecurity about my ideas.

Then I started listening to the interviews and analyzing them. I paid attention to everything—from the sound of my voice, to the way it pitched up, to my breathing, looking at the construction of sentences, and trying to understand the moments when it felt like I got insecure versus when I was the strongest and most confident.

Each time, I focused on something I could improve. My voice lowered, which made me sound more confident and also feel more confident.  I slowed down. I added more breath, which built calm. I layered back in some room to giggle and rush through my words, because when I get excited I speed up—and I like that authenticity. It also occurred to me that I like doing interviews at a particular time of day—early afternoon, when I’m starting to feel very chatty and I want to talk to people. I started scheduling them for times that fit well with my brain schedule.

Getting better at interviews.

To get better at interviews, and presentations—the best way is to do them over and over again.

Grab a friend (or a video) and set yourself up with a mock interview. Chat for twenty minutes. Share your ideas. Let yourself ramble. Then, watch the tape. Ask for feedback. Where were you your best? What made you shine? What parts could improve? Work out each of the little stumbles until you feel comfortable with the sequence of changes.

Find out what makes you feel good. Set up a room, an environment, a location that you love. Maybe you scout out the person beforehand. Maybe you have your favorite cup of coffee–and your favorite glass of wine before hand. Maybe you need to warm-up to conversation with a trusted friend before you start.

Perhaps you write out ideas in advance so you have a cue sheet or you’ve done some advance thinking. I like to ask my interviewer for a general topic list and sample questions so I know what area(s) we’ll be chatting about. Sometimes I’ll write out an essay answer the night before to the questions–and while I won’t read it out loud the next day (it sounds terrible on tape, FYI), just the act of doing the thinking helps set me up for good stuff later.

Learn to love the process: self-reflection and being able to identify how to make changes is powerful.

Why I love interviews.

Now, somewhat surprisingly, I actually enjoy listening to the interviews I get to do.

Beyond the technical considerations and feedback, it becomes a place to test ideas and learn from the medium of voice. For some reason, the way I explain things out loud is different than in print—and so the spoken word becomes a place for me to learn more about my thoughts.

Listening to interviews is a chance to mine your mind for thoughts and ideas, and write out some of the ways you construct sentences, thoughts, and observations. You can pay attention to when you get excited, where you stumble, what you get frustrated or stumped by, and what comes easily to you.

A good interviewer will ask thought-provoking questions, and often I’ll stumble into a new area of ideas that I haven’t written about yet, yielding juicy content and rich ideas for future essays. I discovered that the ideas we unearthed were seeds waiting to be watered, new ideas to plant. I still love writing far more than I love interviews. I prefer to be alone, with my thoughts and ideas, sharing my brain through this pen-and-paper medium. When you read my posts and my books, you get my brain.

But interviews can be potent sources of discovery and idea generation.

This week, I was interviewed by Joel Zaslosfky over on the Value of Simple podcast. We talk about identity, how difficult it is to define yourself and what you do, the drawbacks of storytelling, and the power of addiction in both positive and negative terms. If you have a half an hour today, download it and take a listen and let me know what you think.

What to write about when you don’t know what to write about.

Building Walls in Brooklyn

What do you do when you don’t know what to write about?

When you’re stuck or worried or wondering what to say next, write anyways.

Write about things that no one is talking about.

Write about the things that are whispering in your ear, that seem strange, or that seem off, somehow. Write about the things you’re not sure if you should say. Tell the stories you haven’t told yet. Say it anyway.

Write about what makes you angry, or what seems paradoxical.

Write about how the New York Times keeps writing about how we should get more sleep, eat less sugar, drink less coffee, walk more, and that sitting is dangerous – and yet what if the people who write the pieces are still living sugar-filled, caffeinated, stationary lives? What does it take to actually enact habit change, or motivate change?

Write about how Fast Company talks about digital sabbaticals yet never seems to stop posting on the damn internet. I feel like I’m drowning in Fast Company Facebook Posts. It’s like FastBook, except it’s going too fast for me and I want to slow down. Maybe Fast Company can take a digital sabbatical and save the rest of us a day. Less FOMO, more JOMO.

Write about how the deluge of life coaches means something significant (maybe that we really are all screwed up?) or that maybe we’re in an ever-increasing flood of informational internet opportunities that’s just a fancy pyramid scheme in disguise (do I believe this? I don’t know); or, alternatively and more optimistically, that the idea of a life coach is indicative of a culture that has lost something. Write about a culture that has forgotten how to describe the value of people of immense wisdom, of mentors, of friends, of age, and of colleagues who give us the increasingly scarcest resource of all–ample time and thoughtfulness and attention.

Or perhaps–and you should write about this, or maybe I should, we’ll see–maybe it means that we’re a culture devoid of meaning, that we’ve lost the rituals, practices, habits, and deeper connectivity to the earth and to our own spirituality (to God, to the universe, to anything). Talk about how our post-enlightenment love affair with science has led us so far astray from the knowledge and wisdom we’ve had for thousands and thousands of years (the yogis emphasized the importance of meditation five thousand years ago; the scientific papers are just beginning to understand why this is true). Perhaps religion and science are hand-in-hand, and both will make the other stronger, as each catches up with the other (and more importantly, acknowledges the other).

Write about why we search for a reason and an understanding for who we are. Write about why we seek to understand why we’re doing what we’re doing.

Write about what it’s like to be curious.

Write about what it’s like to see. Capture the world in words, as best you can. Really write it out–the details and nuances and intricacies of where you are, and who you are, right now.

Write about how digital technology and interconnectedness is changing us, and what you think the future of the internet is.

Speculate on the future of public space, and whether or not democracy and digital connectedness are serving us.

Write about problems around the world that we collectively ignore because the hip gyrations of a young teen is more mesmerizing than the assassination of twelve human lives.

Write about how the next $500 ebook or self-guided course isn’t going to get you where you want if you don’t actually read it. Wonder why people buy things and still don’t take action.

Write about how fucking mad you are, and your inside feelings that you’ve been locking up for years.

Write about what it’s like to be you, and what makes you angry, and what makes you blissfully happy. Write about the tools you use to numb yourself, because we all try desperately to avoid sadness and misery, and we stuff ourselves with caffeine, sugar, stimulation, pot, television, phones, and other instant-pieces that fill our minds with avoidance. Write about the things we do to numb us from actually feeling.

Admit that you have a body, that you have a soul, that you’re damn depressed and the reason for that is because you actually believe you’re capable of a lot more–and you haven’t figured out how to make the magic happen yet.

Write about what it’s like to be one single individual cell within your body, a particle so small it’s incomprehensible; yet it’s dependent on the air you breathe and water you give it to pulse and beat and carry out its marching orders.

Write about what it’s like to be you, here, and now.

Write about what you feel, and have an honest conversation with yourself about it. Crack the vulnerability open a little bit. Watch for the flood gates. Let the floods come. Have some fucking feelings, and roll around with them. Discover your desires. Write them in big bold beautiful ink on the insides of your body (or the outsides) and on the walls of your living space and in the margins and pages of your notebooks.

Write about the fact that we have no walls anymore or natural barriers to say no, and so we’re constantly flooded with requests that make us anxious, tired and depressed.

Write about what the future will say of Steve Jobs, and how our collective idolization might be washed away if we discover that the advent of the personal and mobile computer–while an exceptional tool for human creativity–also created the unintended consequences of contributing to alarming obesity rates couple and such sedentary humans that our internal IQ’s went down as much as they increased through the information access we enabled.

Wonder about the future of the internet and how it’s changing our lives. Take a piece that someone has written and respond to it, thoughtfully. React. Respond. Listen.

Poke the box. Fuck it, shake it. Stir it. Challenge Seth Godin, give him an essay that makes him think harder, question each of your idols, re-examine your mantras. Think twice about the information you’re given. Disagree and argue. If you construct it well enough, I bet Seth would be fascinated with the conversation you create. You might be wrong. So what? Admit it, and try again.

Think, and then think again.

Write about people who have adrenal fatigue, who are too tired to keep up with work. Write about how an obsession with productivity is wearing down the souls of the people who are trying the hardest; the people we need to continue to be vibrant. Write about what a waste of time email is. Write about how you would do things differently–and then write about how many steps and stumbles it took for you to make it happen.

Write about how your heart bleeds when you hold a tiny infant in your arms because, just for a hot second, the world’s energy moves through your heart center and you feel both restfully still and a live pulsing, and you’re connected through your chakras to a deeper reason for being, and in that bliss, you look at the limitless possibilities in that tiny breathing being and you think,

Damn, that’s perfect, perfect,

and you look at yourself and you think,

what the fuck happened?

###

[ You are still as beautiful, you know. You already are beautiful. You are always capable of beauty. ]

[ You’re perfect, in exactly that messy way that you are. It’s just hiccups and hangups that occupy the world, and get all messy inside your brain space. ]

###

Cultivate Wonder.

Wonder about change, and how it happens. Breathe into the space and creases and pockets of your lungs. Describe what it’s like to be a cell within your body. Touch the sensation of one side of your body, and then the other side. Pause for a moment and detail–in delicious words–the tracing of a finger around the circumference of your body. Close your eyes and imagine where the edges of your humanity are: can you feel them?

Pick an object and tell the story of its life. Talk about what it was before it came into your consciousness, where it was made, and how its life intersects with yours. Wonder where it goes when you toss it flippantly to the side. Consider waste streams and garbage, and capture the movement of things through systems by tracing one item through time.

Write about something that isn’t being said.

If you have a thought, or a joke, or a cranky opinion—and you want to rant, or write, or change the topic—do it.

Write about the things that should be different.

Write a story about a conversation worth having. Write about your experience, and then write about how that connects to larger issues. Write your story. Write about what it’s like to be you.

But for the love of all of it, tell your story, and say what needs to be said.

There’s plenty to write about. Go on, get writing.

Who are you? (+ survey + free book giveaway!)

The internet connects us all

The community is growing here!

The community here is growing quite a bit, and it’s exciting to meet many of the new faces becoming part of this tribe of readers. Long-time readers that have been here since the onset might see more and more faces pepper the comments; in addition, I get to work with many of you one-on-one through coaching and the workshops. Yet I’ve been struggling lately to keep up with emails and comments lately (although I still try to read all of them)! This past month alone, we grew again by nearly 20%–adding hundreds of subscribers to the blog, with thousands of people now part of our community.

Thank you for being here. The people I get to meet because of writing online has been incredible.

Your quick help: please take a short survey! (and enter to win a book)

We have hundreds of new faces joining us, and to continue to grow this community and write useful posts, I’d love for your help. Here’s a 2-minute survey that’s quick and easy–tell me a bit about where you are and what you’re working on. It’s anonymous if you’d like to be, but I’ll publish the aggregate results to my newsletter this month and tell you more about the community that’s forming here.

Take the survey, here.

In addition to learning more about you and what you’re working on, I am in the process of writing a book proposal — and I want it to be a book that you’re going to love. I have three pitches I’m crafting at the moment, and I’m refining them. Tell me what you like, and what you’d love to read next.

Take the survey, win a book!

As a thank you to everyone who takes the survey, I’m giving away a copy of two of my favorite new books that I’ve read this past year and absolutely loved. I’ll be sending two lucky readers a copy of one of the following books: Money: A Love Story, by Kate Northrup; or Die Empty: Unleash Your Best Work Everyday, by Todd Henry.

Thanks for being here.

You, on the other side of the internet–you fascinate me. Where did you come from? Where are you reading? What is your life like? Are you working double days in the Philippines, as one woman wrote to me? Are you a mother of two in Australia, teaching your children and learning online from everything you can absorb? Are you the CEO of a large company that manages hundreds of people? Are you a new entrepreneur or post-collegiate twenty-something, looking to find a passion and a purpose in the work that you’re building?

Yes, all of you. Thank you for being here. It’s the connection through the wires that makes the internet so magical.

With gratitude,

sarah signature

 

 

“You can have everything you want.” But also: “You will never be enough.” Two cultural themes that need to be reconfigured.

Eagle and strength, mural, Brooklyn

You can have everything you want, and you will never be enough.

Ouch.

I keep running my head in into two cultural mindsets that I think have negative consequences in American culture (this is not necessarily true everywhere. The French, for example, don’t necessarily subscribe to the American parenting ideal of praising a kid for everything they do). But within this culture, there are a couple of paradigms that run fluidly through our consciousness and are worth paying attention to.These ideas pervade our mental space, our advertising space, our urgency, and our need for more–perhaps even our inability to say no. And I just think they are terribly wrong–and bad for us.

The first paradigm: “you can have anything you want.”

The idea that you can do whatever you want, become whoever you want, and have everything you want is an ambition and idea taught to Millennials and Generation Y from the moment they’re given matching sets of toddling shoes and oodles of fresh diapers and socks.

This idea that you can do, be or have anything you want. Do you agree? Is this true? Can you really be anything you want? Can you have everything?

But Sarah, you might gasp–don’t tell me that I won’t get what I want! That’s a terrible idea! How could you say such a thing?

It’s complicated. You can try and place your energy in however many spaces you can get your hands on. But for many people, they won’t reach their dreams. Their jobs won’t fulfill their passions. They’ll be taken on other journeys or life trajectories that are entirely different than what might be expected.

Regardless of the outcome on this debate–perhaps yes, you can have whatever you want–the corollary is what’s interesting to me right now. If you truly can have whatever you want (or so the cultural teaching goes), then it follows that we don’t have to make decisions because we can have it all, and we don’t have to learn how to say no, because it’s easier to say yes to things.

The consequence of the assumption that you can have everything you want is that you may be disappointed. Often.

Learning how to say no, how to decide, how to choose, and how to get to your own heart center is critical. Interestingly, if you really examine this assumption–I’m not sure that many people actually want to have everything. Happiness isn’t about things and ownership and millions of dollar bills. Wealth is about freedom and having enough or just exactly what you want. Regardless of the outcome of this debate, one consequence of this assumption is that we don’t get taught how to decide. How to say no.

Is the flip side of being taught you can have everything you want failing to teach us how to make decisions? Does this make prioritization and deciding impossible?

The second: “You will never be enough.”

Oof. Ouch, that doesn’t feel good either, does it?

Yet look for it. There seems to be a cultural construction or ideal that you will never be enough. This idea pervades–you will never have enough, and you will never be enough. This culture of scarcity–of not having enough–means that we’re always seeking something to fill us up or fill the void. Hence, we shop like crazy.

Brene Brown identifies this culture of scarcity in several common phrases that we say every single day. When you wake up in the morning, the first thought many people have is:

“I didn’t get enough sleep.”

Not enough. (Why?) Then, we start the work day:

“I don’t have enough time.”

Again, not enough. (Why?) And at the end of the day:

“I didn’t get enough done.”

And again, not enough. (Why?)

We see this from the way we talk about money (“I don’t have enough money”)–and in fact, that’s not a conversation we’re having because we’re too timid to even begin talking about money and scarcity–to our sleep, our time, our lives, and our work.

Why these cultural constructs fail us.

These two cultural constructions–a culture of scarcity (“you are not enough, you don’t have enough,”) and a culture of achievement (“you can be anything you want, you can have everything you want,”)–are they beneficial? How do they serve us, and how do they deceive us?

And worse, does the combination of these two cultural thoughts make us all slightly neurotic? (I can be anything! But shit! I’ll never be enough! But I can have everything! But shit! I’ll never be enough!)

What would a different mindset look like?

Out of curiosity, what if we had a different mantra? What would the opposite construct look like? Perhaps:

You are enough.

You already have everything you need.

There is nothing in this world that you need to own or acquire to make your life better.

You are enough.

This here, this is enough.

Hmmm…

When is the right time to make change? The changing of seasons is the perfect time to re-fresh and re-invest.

Image by Graydon Foulger, Impressionist Oil Painter.

Oh, these times of transition…

Fall is a beautiful time for change and transition. The weather cools with winds that whisper at a coming winter, the hint of a chilly air brushing across my shoulder tops and threading cool breezes against my skin. I huddle in my jacket, tugging it closer and shaking out my fingertips. I notice that the mornings are getting slower and the days are getting shorter. This weekend marked the official beginning of Autumn, closing down with a startling clamp on the last of summer.

The cooling season and drier air makes me long for hibernation; I stay in bed, pillow atop head, and say a muffled NO into the bedding, my aspirations for morning workouts disappearing alongside the droopy sun. I want to lie for longer, hide from the world, and treasure the warmth and depth of my hidden blankets. My mood shifts; I crave hearty foods and thick soups; I am slower to start in the morning and my mind dips more frequently into the melancholy of lower light. Every psychological trigger begins to fire a reminder for me–from the Halloween candy dotting the grocery aisles to the orange hues of colored leaves to the warm smell of turkey cranberry sandwiches with brie. I grasp the fleeting remainder of warm days with bike rides and lunches on the water before it cools too much to enjoy.

Yesterday was the Fall equinox, a time marking the transition of seasons and temperatures into a new time. For those on the northern hemisphere, we’re closing our long summer days filled with light and energy, and rolling into a season of darker days, hibernation, a few extra hours of slumber, and a craving for rich, starchy foods, harvest vegetables, salts, and soups. For those on the southern hemisphere, blinking in the spring light after a long winter, you’re also awakening to change and transition, one of a different sort.

The equinox is a time to revisit your intentions, to shift, and to re-align yourself for the coming winter. A friend wrote beautifully about what the equinox brings to our life:

The equinox is a time to revisit your intentions as well as to be in gratitude for your harvest–whatever it may be. Acknowledge all that you have at this time and focus on the abundance of the harvest rather than any lack. The equinox is also a time to think about cleaning, pruning, and making any changes that you are inspired to make as a way to make more space for what you want. It is a time for expansion, freedom and commitment. Take some time to ritualize change. Honor the change of season and use the energy of the fall equinox support the release of any burden you may have been carrying for someone else. Put it down once and for all.” (M.M. via The Power Path)

It made me thankful for the energy, change, and growth processes I’ve put into place this year. Leaving my job, moving across the country, selling my car, and setting up my own client roster–these were not simple projects. In retrospect, I bow in gratitude to the year’s work, and I’m thankful for the times I took risks.

What have you harvested this year? What can you acknowledge that has gone well, or shifted significantly? What are you growing? Are you still setting foundations in place for great harvests next year, and next spring?

What can you let go of, or refocus your energy on? What rituals can you take towards change?

More than just writing… a workshop and a journey.

This Fall, 20 students joined me in the Writer’s Workshop, a 4-week course designed to discover your writer’s voice, teach essential writing skills, unlock your inner creative, and grow as a writer within a small-group community. Their inspiration and enthusiasm has been breathtaking.

Each person came to the course with a mind and heart open towards learning, towards improving, and wanting to grow in an area that’s critical for success: communication. Writing allows us to clarify who we are, what we want, and share our ideas. Beyond writing, however, the four-week course is a journey into creativity, into storytelling, into memories and dreams, and into mind-mapping.

It’s a commitment to yourself that you want to get better. It’s a ritual of change. It’s a recognition and a dedication towards growth.

Learning is one of my favorite things. It’s an incredible gift to pour new knowledge and ideas into your brain, synthesize them, mull over them, contemplate, and then create your own works. The best bloggers and creatives I know are all incredibly smart and phenomenally hardworking–likely far more than what is publicly visible, in fact–and they take the time an energy to invest in themselves, to create day in and day out, and to hustle when they need to.

For writers in our writing workshop, here’s what a few of them had to say about why they joined the journey:

“I love to write but have challenges finding the time and space with a demanding full-time (non-writer) job. I’m hoping this class provides both inspiration and structure to help me build writing into my daily life going forward.”

“I thought that getting back into writing regularly might help me find a voice that hasn’t been as vocal lately.”

“I want to hone my most crisp and compelling writing voice and develop a regular writing practice.”

“I’ve always wanted to engage in personal/creative writing but never did much of it. I’m looking forward to using the experience from this course as a catalyst to begin a daily practice of writing, mostly for myself.”

“I have a blog on my website, but I haven’t been too consistent with it. The goal for me is to be more consistent, disciplined, and always have a plethora of new ideas to write about.”

As someone who is hungry for knowledge, I love diving into new projects, courses, and ideas. It’s a joy to teach people who feel the same way. These talented professionals from around the world are brilliant peers and colleagues–and yet they are taking the time to join the workshop, often alongside day jobs, families, side hustles, and other endeavors–each of them coming together to invest in their dreams and take the steps towards improving their lives and businesses.

You don’t have to have it “figure it out” to partake on the journey.

Why do people join in new adventures? Sign up for new classes? What do they want to improve?

I find the most common denominator of people who make change successfully in their lives is that they start before they feel ready–they dive in before it seems right. And it’s true in my own life: I long delayed signing up for Yoga Teacher Training because I thought I had to be better before I could start (some idea in my mind told me that I needed to be “a great yogi” before I could indulge in deeper learning). And then I realized that I was putting up the same barrier: I didn’t need to wait for the perfect time to improve myself and learn something new. So I signed up to take my first deeper dive into Yoga Teacher Training. You don’t have to wait to get better. You can begin your journey exactly where you are.

It’s been an incredible year of change for me, and the year isn’t over yet. As I transition from traditional employment to building my own practice and business, developing my own patterns, and investing in my own journey, I have quite a bit to discover as I grow.

Getting better starts now.

What are you letting go of this Fall? What are you starting? How are you editing your journey and building your life?

With strength during all times of transition,

sarah signature

Getting things done: how I take notes + snapshots of my moleskine + my nerdy highlighter system

Lots of folks have emailed me to ask me how I get everything done and what systems I have in place to keep myself motivated, on track, and organized. I love watching how other people work and learning what they do to stay organized–so I thought I’d share a behind-the-scenes peek into some of my systems. Here’s what I do when I start my day.

I have a lot of various systems and half-systems that work perfectly for me; a combination of analog and digital tools and, of course, several notebooks. I almost always start the day with a fresh list (on a real piece of paper) because it’s a way to clear my mind and it’s the habit that gets me into the day. During highly productive consecutive days where I’m focused on just a few things (a 3-day stretch of writing, or a week focused on creating a book), I’ll often use the same list for the whole week.

I’m well versed in David Allen’s Getting Things Done and the Action Method by Scott Belsky, and Stephen Covey’s urgent/important matrix, and I implement a bit of each across various projects (and type of work) that I’m involved in.

Here’s a quick behind-the-scenes look at how I take notes–using a fairly simple analog notebook (a moleskine) and 2-color highlighter system.

Making a list, the old fashioned way:

In the morning, after I wake up and have coffee (and do some reading or stretching), I open a fresh page in my moleskine. Based loosely in categories (such as errands, writer’s workshop, blog posts, guest posts, bills, etc), I’ll list out the things on my mind that I want to work on:

notebook

Step 2: Adding a yellow highlighter (prioritizing).

The next step is pretty simple, but it keeps me focused. I take out my yellow highlighter and look back through the list and highlight the things that are the most important (or urgent) for me. Maybe I’ve got a big deadline, maybe I just got off a plane and I really, really want to clean up and settle back into my home, or maybe I’ve been itching to read a few books that I haven’t made time for lately. Whatever it is that’s the most important, I highlight. It’s a variation on writing a to-do list with only the three most important items, but it’s useful for me to add this level of clarity.

Highliter system--3-spread

Step 3: Highlight what you have done or accomplished in blue (reflection + tracking).

As I work through my ideas, projects, and tasks, I highlight what I did do in blue throughout the day. If something pulls me out or off of this list unexpectedly (an hour long call with my mom, an unexpected visit from the plumber, needing to fix my website if it goes down), I try to make sure to add this on and write it down to account for what I’ve spent time on.

At the end of the day, I can quickly see whether or not I was able to stay focused on the things I felt were most important. A successful day is one in which I can cross off all of those yellow highlights–that’s a slam-dunk day.

I rarely get everything crossed off. (That’s pretty normal).

Some days I’ve spent the entire day working and it feels like I’m making no progress on my goals. When I end the day, I like to recap quickly by looking at my notes and remembering what I did do (or noting if I’ve had a completely off or strange day), and then assess whether or not I made progress on the big things I’ve been wanting to work on.

Throughout the week, this system also serves as useful feedback. If I’ve had an item on the list for five or six days in a row and I’m still not making progress on it, I know that I need to adjust my strategy and spend more time focused on that piece. Maybe something’s holding me back (mentally, emotionally, logistically, structurally), or maybe I need to allocate more time (and energy) to the project than I anticipate.

Other systems I love + making sure it’s not all about “productivity.”

I love lots of systems–from David Allen’s Getting Things Done to Scott Belsky’s Action Method. Yesterday I saw Danielle LaPorte’s Entrepreneurial Time Management post which made me very excited (it’s similar to what I do, but mine isn’t defined as clearly as this–so this makes me want to up my game), and Amber Rae’s post in Fast Company about scheduling your days around your peak energy is GREAT. As always, the insanely organized Jenny Blake has an entire toolkit that I love drooling over and perusing to discover new things.

Lately I’ve been adding a short box to the upper-right corner of my page, asking myself (based on Danielle LaPorte’s Desire Map program) how I want to feel throughout the day. I’ll jot down the notes, something like: “Less stressed out, excited, productive, peaceful.” Writing them down and having them there to look at helps me remember what the point of it all is–not to crank through yet another list, but rather, to work on things (and in ways) that make me feel the way I want to feel.

But what else goes in this notebook?

Ahhh, great question. It’s a catch-all notebook that I use to take notes during meetings, calls, reflection periods, and on books that I am reading (or want to write). I use up 5-15 pages a day between notes and lists, and each notebook can last me for a month or several months, depending on how much writing and sketching I’m doing.

I have a two-color pen system that I (loosely) follow. Black are my ramblings, personal notes and lists; blue are my reading notes or specific program notes. If I’m reading a book and jotting down notes, out comes the blue pen. If I’m on a tele-call or taking a class; again with the blue pen. That way, I go back and can flip through and find my notes fairly easily.

A final note on systems and organization:

Of course, there’s a lot more than just a list and a highlighter–I use calendars, visioning days, big maps, plans, online notes, Evernote, Google Docs, and many other tools. More on that later. For now:

“The only system you need is the system that works” – tweet!

The ultimate metric for me, however, is whether or not I’m getting what I want. “The only system you need is the system that works” is one of my key phrases for evaluating–you don’t need to adopt any new systems or strategies unless you want to make a specific change. You don’t need to fix what’s not broken! If you’re not saving any money and want to save more, change the system (the one you’re using isn’t working). If you like the outcome you’re getting, however, you don’t necessarily need to switch things up, unless you’re up for an experiment.

The only system you need–is the one that works for you.

What other tips and tricks would you like to know about? I’m happy to share tons of my how-to’s and systems, and I hope to share a lot more of these in the near future. What works for you? What do you want to know more about?