Thursday, April 25, 2013

Making Connections that Matter



For the fifth time in two weeks I walked into a room of strangers. I’ve been networking. It’s the hard work of introducing myself to as many people as possible, spurting the same 30 word/30 second bio and hoping the person’s face lights up.
 
The Kasie-Makes-a-Living-Being-Kasie Networking Tour began two weeks ago with a series of Chamber of Commerce events.

I went to the council meeting, then the business at Midday meeting, then the new Chamber member orientation meeting, then the breakfast at Sunrise meeting.

I also went to the ITPSC luncheon, a Tech After 5 event, the ASTD Chapter Meeting, and made a gallant effort to attend the Social Media Club of Columbia’s Thursday night meeting in the Vista. But, come on, people, the corner of Park and Gervais at 7 p.m. on a Thursday? 
I would have needed 90 minutes to find parking. I bailed.

Anyway, this week I went to an open mic poetry reading at the Red Door Tavern on State Street. I was invited by my Columbia Writers’ Alliance buddy John Starino.

The headlining poet was Dayna Smith. It all felt very theatre, very improv-y at first and I expected some quaintness to the readings. It was anything but quaint.

Dayna Smith’s poetry was charged with defiance and anger and frustration. She let her passion free and I imagined it galloping through the room like the black smoky horses of Jude Law’s Boogeyman nightmares.

She was breathtaking.

Thursday, April 18, 2013

Lesson Learned



The most important lesson from my childhood that I want my daughter to learn is this:

“Be yourself. If people don’t like you for who you are, that’s their problem.”

Today I read this post on LinkedIn that suggested being yourself is indulgent and unprofessional. The writer’s words were “Express your individuality on your own time.”

The writer claimed that “just being me” is a bad thing.

Saturday, April 13, 2013

Pep Talk



I’m built for something different.

When you know that about yourself, said Coach Curtis Frye, You are able to compete because you know you have something to offer. 

It’s not a direct quote, it’s translated from my notes; the notes that deliver this kick-ass message:

I am not afraid of hard work.

So why am I not WORKING?

Monday, April 8, 2013

How I Got in the Game -- The April Platform Challenge Anniversary Post


I tweet every blog post “I #amwriting The Life on Clemson Road.”

In that statement alone, I’m expressing how far Robert Lee Brewer’s April Platform Challenge 2012 has brought me.

Let’s break it down: I tweet.

What? Not too long before April 2012 I thought Twitter was a self-indulgent busybody software of the highest order of narcissism and shallowness.


Now, I host Tweet chats for the Wordsmith Studio group every Tuesday, follow the Twitter feed for #thevoice and every major awards show, and participate in #litchat and #pitmad to discuss others’ books and pitch mine. 

It’s about the conversation.

I will write an entire post on Twitter etiquette, by the bye, since I have been in meetings with people who seemed to think the Twitter conversation was more important than the people in front of them. Ugh.

Okay, part two of the phrase: every blog post.

I blog? What?

Yep. Shhhh… you’re reading it now. 


Monday, April 1, 2013

Another Opening Day



I am trying to learn Chi Running wherein one ceases to suffer and instead runs like a child with joy and stamina that flow from our Chi or energy source.

My heart pounds and I feel every step. Every. Step.

“Breathe,” I remind myself, “lean in.”

Photo by LJR

 

Another Opening Day.


It’s been a year. I’ve been on this new journey for a year. Not the Chi Running thing, that’s about three days old. But the journey to define myself as an independent entrepreneur, to eschew corporate shackles for wide open spaces.

My birthday just passed and I’ve been on this journey since I served my old cube mates cupcakes and then said goodbye to them forever. I ripped them off like a band aid. Raced into the unknown.

They told me I was brave. I felt brave.

Now it’s been a year and I feel less brave.

Of all these new things we’ve tried, moving to a new city, building a new house, kid in a new preschool, husband in a new store, the hardest has been mommy in a new job. It hasn’t panned out like everything else. It hasn’t been fine. Wonderful. More than we could have asked for.

It’s been scary.

It’s been uncertain.