Storytelling: It's All the Rage

Why Using "Buzzwords" Bugs Me

I like to think I was one of the first to use it in my title. Maybe I was, maybe I wasn't; we all know storytelling has been around since, well, the beginning of human existence. For thousands of years, stories were how history, culture, and relationships have been shared and carried forward. They continue to serve multiple purposes, including teaching basic concepts, morality, ethics, religion, and more.

Prior to the age of general literacy, storytelling was the only way to share your community and family history. Stories passed down from generation to generation are what connect us, not only to our family and personal identity, but to the rest of the global community.

Given our human nature to share stories, it’s a bit surprising that suddenly, over the past 2+ years, storytelling has become a big buzzword. Storytelling for content marketing, storytelling for sales, storytelling for company culture, storytelling for interviews & résumés... as if there's some magical component of business and life that was recently discovered and will change everything!

Why does this bother me so much?

Maybe it’s because of my discovery a few years ago of my skill in helping people and organizations better understand and share their stories, both as a tool for general communication, and as a way to improve personal outcomes. There aren’t a lot of really skilled storytellers, and there are even fewer good teachers of storytelling.

Maybe the buzzword status of storytelling bothers me because, by making it its very own thing, we take the word out of the context of every other component of communication. Like the word engagement. Suddenly, over the past few years, engagement is a word that gets tossed around every industry: Education, manufacturing, travel, public sector agencies. As if, by using the word engagement, we can change the culture and dynamic of an environment without putting it into the context of profit, communication, management, leadership, marketing/sales, human resources, customer experience, etc.

All buzzwords do this, and it has always bugged me.

The same goes for storytelling. It doesn’t happen in a vacuum. To be a storyteller on any medium, you have to have a story to tell. As my friend Shlomi Ron, of Visual Storytelling Institute, says, you have to be a storyMAKER first. And then you must use the story in context, with an audience, in a way that moves people to do something or to feel something. That’s the beauty and complexity of communication; there are so many components, and storytelling is just one of them.

In business, telling your story has to fit into the culture and context of your organization. That means, prior to coming up with the language of your story, you need to do some digging. Remember the “why” behind your business; take into account your mission, vision, and overall goals. Think about the people involved, including employees, leadership, customers, and other stakeholders (the communities you impact), and figure out how your story will impact them.

And then consider which stories to tell, how to tell them them, and where they should be told.

Be intentional about your storytelling, make it real, not just another buzzword.

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Here's what Ben Walker at Transcription Outsourcing had to say about No Longer Virtual 2017:

...the NLV conference was full of a bunch of "givers" and no "takers". I'm pretty sure that's why we all loved it so much, no one had an agenda, and no one tried to sell me anything. That's the first time I've been to a conference like that since I started going to conferences 15 years ago. 

Save the Date: No Longer Virtual 2018 in Denver, February 22 and 23. Sign up to receive periodic updates, including early registration opening date... don't miss this opportunity!

There are great sponsorship opportunities for No Longer Virtual 2018, contact me for details.

Ready to work with me on your storytelling techniques? I'm taking on new coaching clients now! Get started with a three-session package.

No Such Thing as Work/Life Balance

Every time I hear someone profess to know the secret to work/life balance, I bristle. First, there is no such thing as work/life balance, and second, there are no easy answers to finding a comfortable position in life when you are continually growing and changing.

No Work/Life Balance, Only Life Balance

I'm not sure it was ever possible to separate your personal and professional lives, but it was probably more likely before the age of the Internet and social media. In the past, people had their jobs, and then they went home to family and friends. You never really knew what went on behind closed doors, once an employee left the office, the only way for his colleagues to see his misbehavior is if they came to the family BBQ and witnessed his behavior after a few too many beers.

Get Comfortable Being Uncomfortable

Unless you are one of those people for whom this equation works comfort=happiness, you are going to have to get comfortable being uncomfortable. When you put yourself in a place of discomfort, doing something out of your normal routine, you grow. As long as you stay in your routine, comfortable and generally unchallenged, you will stagnate. The only way to grow and improve, the only way to reach your goals and make your dream life is to step out of that comfort zone and take some risks.

Work/Life Balance Means Something is Missing

If you feel like your work and life are balanced, it may mean you are compartmentalizing. That's not always a bad thing, but it isn't something that is  sustainable. When we compartmentalize, we are separating our thoughts and feelings into distinct categories, home vs. work, which means that we are not addressing the underlying issues and concerns in our overall lives. Our brains are most effective and efficient when all of the parts are interacting and engaging. According to Melissa Hughes in her book, Happy Hour with Einstein:

While specific regions of the brain are responsible for specific things, we are aware that the brain functions as a whole system. The better the regions integrate with each other, the better they all work independently.

If you really want change; if you really want to do something different with your life, stop working so hard for balance, and try being unbalanced for a while. Take risks; take the leap, and realize true growth.

don't miss this opportunity to grow. Register for No Longer virtual today!

Don't Lose Your Sparkle

*When something you read inspires you or makes you think, consider sharing it. Writers tend to be a little needy... when you comment and share their work, it encourages them to keep  writing.

After nearly six months away studying abroad in Australia, and two weeks adventuring in New Zealand, I got off the plane in San Francisco. I planned to stay a couple of days with my brother before I returned home to Colorado to finish my sophomore year at Colorado State University in Fort Collins.

I was wearing a brightly colored sundress and sandals, with a straw hat in my hands. It was January. It was a cold ride in his jeep to my brother's place in Santa Cruz. When we arrived at his house, I walked straight into his room, my sandals slipped off my feet, and I collapsed on my stomach on his bed. Traveling back from New Zealand took two full days, though the calendar hadn't changed. I left on January 7th, traveled for nearly 48 hours, and arrived on January 7th.

Get your filthy feet off my bed! Go wash them right now!

I turned over, puzzled. I had been wearing shoes for the entire return trip, so when I looked down at my feet, leaning forward off the edge of the bed, I was a little surprised. They did look filthy, but they weren't. Both of the bottoms of my feet were dark brown, solid calluses. Gross. That's what your feet look like when you hitchhike barefoot through New Zealand for two weeks.

We had a nice couple of days together swapping study abroad stories. He had spent a year in France a couple of years before I left for my adventure. I was grateful to spend a few days with someone who had done something similar and understood what it was like to come back to the US after a trip like that. Even though I was living in an English-speaking country, the culture shock was pretty intense.

Those first few months back were really hard. Re-immersing myself into the Colorado culture should have been easier. The language was (mostly) the same, many foods were similar, and many of my friends were there when I returned. So why was re-entry such a challenge?

My cousin recently returned from two years as a Peace Corps volunteer in Cambodia. As I think about her re-entry, I'm reminded of some of the emotions and difficulty I had coming back from Australia. It's not the same; she was gone for two full years, in a country without indoor plumbing (generally), completely different foods & culture, and a difficult language barrier. I'm guessing, though, that most people returning from overseas after a few months or more have a hard time, regardless of where they spent that time.

When I was in Australia and New Zealand, I shifted from being independent to being fiercely independent. As a woman, particularly a small woman, people assume I need help with things like luggage, reaching things from high shelves, and car maintenance. As an adult I take advantage of offers of help; back then, especially after my study abroad experience, I found myself bristling, indignant, and somewhat defensive with any offer of assistance. Through gritted teeth:

"I can do it myself."

Looking back, I see things much more clearly. Isn't that always the way? I realize now that part of my difficulty came from fear. In my time away, I had changed. I had grown up in a different way from my friends who didn't leave. I had the travel bug; I was even more independent. And I was afraid that after a while I'd regress and lose the gains I made when I was away. I knew I had changed, and I didn't want to give in and go back to that sense of entitlement, safety, and the desire for comfort at the cost of adventure, curiosity, and compassion. Those are the characteristics I observed around me when I returned to my cozy, spoiled life.

I was afraid that I would lose my sparkle.

It would have been easy to fall back into the routines of my life before living abroad. My family and friends were there to fall back on; life is easier when we allow ourselves to regress to where people expect us to be.

But I didn't. That fear motivated me to keep moving forward. Those observations of the people around me were enough to keep me grounded and motivated to live my life with integrity & consistent growth. Those observations continue to motivate me to be curious and spontaneous. For some people, comfort = happiness. That equation just doesn't fit me.

After my study abroad experience, every day I worked toward something bigger, something that felt like the right next step. Even a small adjustment to each day improved my motivation and kept me from stagnating in my old routine. I changed my walking route to classes each day, sat up front in every class and made sure my instructors knew who I was, set a goal to meet at least 3 new people each week, and kept my eyes open for opportunities -- especially the ones I thought might be out of reach. (That's my internship story, coming in the next couple of weeks.)

I'm so proud of my cousin; she's independent, kind, smart, curious, and adventurous. I know she'll struggle with re-entry, we all do. I also know she'll come out of this part of her life even more motivated to help our communities around the globe. She'll find ways to make her mark in improving the lives of the people around her. She most certainly will not lose her sparkle.

When you get really excited about a possibility, about the world around you, do you let the people around you talk you out of your ideas and dreams? When you return from a great conference, where you were full of energy, do you let the people you come back to pull you back into the groove, losing that momentum?

Have you lost your sparkle lately? It's never too late to find it again. Surround yourself with people who believe in you. Surround yourself with people, when they hear what you dream of doing, say "how can I help?"

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When You Don't Know Where to Start

Paralyzed By A Decision

It was early in the afternoon when I arrived at my sister’s apartment to help her move from Sacramento to a place in San Francisco. Our mother was holding my 18 month old son; we had flown in from Montana less than an hour before and headed straight out to help my sister.

We walked in to find her sitting on the floor near the kitchen, knees pulled up to her chest, head down, crying. I crouched in front of her, worried: “What’s wrong? Are you ok?” She looked up, so sad, big brown eyes filled with anxiety: “I…(sob)… don’t (sob)… know (sob)… where to… start… (sob).” I sat down in front of her, so relieved it wasn’t something worse. Then I stood up and offered her my hands to pull her from the floor.

I picked up the nearest box and put it into her hands. “Here. Take this. Go into the bathroom, pull everything out from under the sink, and put it all into this box.” She looked at me, a little puzzled, then turned around and did what I said. That was it. She was fine after that. She was more than fine after that. She was efficient and capable and we had the entire apartment packed in just a few hours.

There are those times when the next step is completely overwhelming. I’ve been there; paralyzed with a decision to make. What’s next? The only thing to do is take a small step forward – or perhaps take a side-step, depending on the obstacle in front of you. The important thing is to move, to shift, to make something happen, even if it’s a tiny movement.

My cousin called just before she graduated from college to ask for advice. Partway through her question she started to cry, paralyzed by the decision she had to make. Just as with my sister, I put one small action in front of her.

It’s easy to get caught up in a moment and briefly forget all that you know. For my sister, she needed a little push to remind her that she needed to take this one step at a time. For my cousin, she needed the reminder that whatever decision she made at that moment could be un-made if she needed to change things. When I’m faced with a major decision, I remind myself that everything can change in an instant and that a decision I make right now is unlikely to derail a future part of my life. If I need to quantify a decision, I will use this handy tool.

Of course there are exceptions
– people make impulsive decisions that can have huge, long-term impacts –
sex, driving while on drugs or alcohol, sky diving.

When faced with a major decision I find it comforting to look back at other decisions I saw as life-changing at the time I was making them. Looking back helps put current concerns into perspective. There are methods to quantify a qualitative decision by scoring your priorities, but in the end, it's still your decision to make.

The next time you’re faced with a decision and you feel paralyzed in the moment, remember that whatever decision you make is the right one for that moment. Just take it one step at a time.

We should all start to live before we get too old. Fear is stupid. So are regrets.” ― Marilyn Monroe

What decisions have you made that you decided to un-make? How did that work out for you?

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We All Need a Foundation to Step Out of Our Comfort Zone

I can't let go of it, even though I know I should.

"What do you mean, you know you should?"

It's a mattress! It's not practical to keep a mattress when I've managed to give away and throw away the majority of my "stuff" so we can travel, untethered.

It's not about the mattress, though. It's about the values you've attached to it, right?

She was talking about the mattress she bought after leaving her abusive husband, sleeping in her car for 6 months, and had finally moved into an apartment by herself. That mattress represented the first real thing she owned, free and clear, since leaving him -- and all of her things -- behind. Now she's in the midst of disrupting her life, again, is remarried to a wonderful, adventurous guy, and is downsizing to live as minimally as possible so they can travel all over the world.

Don't get rid of it. You have a storage area that can hold it for you for a while. Keep it until you don't feel like you need it any more. We all need something to help us feel grounded when we're about to take a leap out of our comfort zone.

Healthy toddlers are known to wander away from their parents, though usually they will turn to see them, to make sure they can still see them, before they get too far. If you read anything by my friend Sara Jacobovici, you'll read that in infant and child development, we need a close bond with someone (or something) in order to become independent. It's a paradox for sure, but not too surprising. Read child development articles and they will describe how thumb-suckers are statistically more likely to be more confident teenagers because they've had the ability to self-sooth. I believe in thumb-sucking - no one can take away the thing that can bring you comfort!

I had a good, solid, healthy childhood for the most part. My parents were loving and we always had a roof over our heads and plenty of food to eat. We have a warm, huggy, sometimes overwhelmingly loving extended family of aunts, uncles, cousins, and friends who became family wherever we lived. And we moved a lot in my youth. I went to four different elementary schools. No wonder I sucked my thumb well into 1st grade. No matter where we lived, or the adventures and trouble I got into in my late teens and early 20's, I always had my family as my foundation.

I got a cat when I was 20 because I felt the impulsive need to spite a landlord. Needless to say, I wasn't thinking long term. He wasn't the sweetest cat, though he was devoted to me. Clawed was huge and created a lot of complications for me. Having a cat limited the apartments I could rent, limited my travel plans & spontaneity, and there were times that he had food and I went without.

When my parents were divorcing and they sold the only house we lived in for more than 4 years, Clawed was my foundation. Wherever I adventured, like moving from Fort Collins, Colorado to Washington DC by myself, he was with me. He was the one consistent thing in my life for more than 9 years, and I was devastated when he died, even though I had a wonderful husband and new baby at that time.

My little gold Super Beetle, handed down to me from my brother, was another foundation piece that broke my heart when I had to get rid of it. Now I have a weird attachment to our 1991 Suburban. There's no way for someone else to truly understand why we have attachments to certain things. Sometimes we don't really know ourselves.

I wrote an article about shoes being my wardrobe foundation; this is the same idea. When I am about to embark on a new adventure, whether that's applying for, or starting a new job, preparing for a speaking engagement, planning a trip, or any other activity that will push me out of my comfort zone, I have certain things I can count on to bring me back to center. Whether its cues like shoes or an outfit that make me feel really good, or a quiet moment with my supportive husband and kids, a glass of wine with a friend, or a good snuggle with my dog, having a foundation (like a mattress, or my thumb) reminds me that whatever I'm about to do, I have a place to go (or people to comfort me) afterward to find my balance again.

What are your foundations? Are you intentional about finding that center before you jump into something out of your comfort zone? Do you recognize which arbitrary objects you're most attached to, and may have foundational values associated with them?

Taking Yourself Too Seriously? Choose a Cue to Keep it Real.

It was my first day of my first real job out of college. My paid internship in Washington DC had ended and I spent the summer playing with my sister and roommate, waiting tables and hosting at a couple of restaurants.

When my sister moved back home to Colorado, my roommate convinced me to join a temp agency. Shortly after my first placement, the company offered me a job. My appointment with Lori in the HR department was scheduled at 8am on a Monday morning.

It was December, and it was still dark when I woke up, eager to go to my meeting, fill out paperwork, and start my job with the Meetings Department at the American Chemical Society. I dressed in the dark and popped my head into my roommate's bathroom to say goodbye, she said "good luck, Sarah!"

It was still dim outside as I made my way from the apartment to Union Station to catch the train. I sat for the few stops to the Farragut North station and held my little briefcase, a graduation gift from my dad, on the tops of my feet. In my eagerness and anxiety, the long escalator ride to the surface seemed even longer than usual. As I stepped off the escalator, out from under the awning and onto the sidewalk, I glanced down at my feet.

Oh dear.

I looked back up and took a few more steps. I thought, "Oh no, I wouldn't have done that."

Looking back down at my feet confirmed my initial observation: I was wearing two different colored shoes. One was black, the other was navy. They were identical pumps -- except for the color, which, now in full sunlight, was obvious.

Walking into the first office building on my left, I marched with confidence toward the tall counter as the man at the desk behind the counter looked up.

May I please use your phone?

No ma'am. This is not a public phone.

Please? It's kind of an emergency. I'm going to be late for my first day of a new job and I need to call and let them know! Please? (Insert brightest, sweetest, Colorado-hick-in-the-big-city smile I can muster.)

Oh, ok, I guess.

Good morning, Lori. I'm on my way over now, only a few blocks away, but I have to run home so I'm going to be late. Why? Well... I just noticed... I'm wearing two different colored shoes. ... No, I know I can't come to work like that. ... Yes, just about 30 minutes. ... Yes, I'll be there. Thank you.

I hung up the phone and the man at the counter stood to pull the phone back down to the desk so he could peer down at my feet and grin.

Smiling back and thanking him, I ran back to the Metro station. I found myself grinning, feeling very silly, and trying to cover my shoes with my briefcase when I sat down on the train. I managed to get home, change a shoe, drive back to the office, pay an outrageous price to park the car near the building, and get to the HR office in 30 minutes.

When I told my roommate the story over dinner, we couldn't stop laughing. Our stomachs were sore from the deep belly laughs that night. She reminded me of a few other little details I managed to mess up over the previous few months and came up with a term for those, "Sarah-isms."

Those small details add up in similar ways to what I described in an earlier post about finding multiple Band-Aids on my hands. The difference here is that these little details are silly, not dangerous. Stories like these are great reminders that we are human, we are fallible, and that while it's important to take our jobs and responsibilities seriously, we should never -- ever -- take ourselves too seriously. After all, we are all human, no matter how high the pedestal on which we may stand or be placed.

Just a few years after the two-different-shoes incident, I was in Vancouver, Canada, for work. My colleagues and I took an afternoon to rent a car and drive up to Whistler to explore. It's a beautiful ski resort not far from the city; it reminded me a lot of Vail, Colorado. We were there in the spring and the hills were covered in beautiful green grass and wild flowers. A small boutique store back then, Joe Boxer happened to be open that day. Joe Boxer was the brand that got big and famous, thanks to Forrest Gump and his yellow smiley face. At the time, it was a higher-end brand (now you can find it at KMart) and all the rage. I picked out a watch with a brown leather band and smiley faces in place of the numbers on the face. For my husband, I picked a fancy silver one with the smiley face imprinted in the face of the watch. You could only tell when you looked closely at it.

Wearing that watch as a DC professional, as a consultant implementing a major software program in agencies like the Federal Reserve, World Bank, and NSA, kept me grounded. When I found I was taking myself too seriously, all I had to do was look down at my watch. A smile would begin from my wrist and work its way up to my face, guaranteed. DC has far too many people who take themselves far too seriously. They didn't need one more.

Do you have cues to help remind you not to take yourself too seriously? Share them in comments here!

Post script: Almost every day after that, when I took the Metro and passed the office building, the man at the counter waited by the door to smile, wave, and say hello to me. It's nice to know my little mishap positively changed the flow of the day for someone else for a while. When we take ourselves too seriously, we miss opportunities to connect with others, opportunities to improve our communities simply by connecting in a positive way with the people around us.

It's the Shoes. Trust Me.

I was in high school when I stopped wearing shoes. There was probably a reason, as far as reason goes when you're in high school, but I can't imagine any reason beyond pushing my mother's buttons.

My feet were tough and thick with calluses from the moment the snow melted in Colorado until the first frost hit. I would carry my shoes, just in case I needed them to be allowed into a store or restaurant. From my sophomore year of high school until I graduated from Colorado State University in Fort Collins, I was known for my bare feet. As an exchange student my sophomore year, I even hitchhiked by myself through New Zealand with bare feet. I'm pretty sure I was the only business major with bare feet and cut-off jeans. When I was walking through Moby Gym with my father, getting ready to graduate, we ran into a few of my professors and I was happy to introduce them to my dad.

Oh my! We were just placing bets on whether Sarah would wear shoes to cross the graduation stage.

When I think back on that interchange, I like to remember my dad smiling good naturedly, and not totally embarrassed, but I really don't recall his reaction. I smiled and lifted my graduation robe enough to show some pretty pumps. It was December, I was definitely wearing shoes.

I moved to Washington DC for a paid internship immediately following graduation. My father drove with me across the country in my little Chevette with my cat on the floor under the passenger seat. Of course I wore shoes every day to my job with the US International Trade Commission; as soon as the weather warmed a bit, you could find me wandering on weekends through the District, shoes in hand. I think back on that time and I'm totally disgusted. Really, Sarah? Barefoot in Washington DC? It didn't take long for me to change my ways. Not only is it gross to walk barefoot on the streets and sidewalks in a big city, it gets very, very hot.

Shoes were simply a function of getting dressed back then. I had my basic pumps in black and navy for work, and my casual sandals and tennis shoes for weekends, and that was about it. I absentmindedly put on two different colored shoes on my first day of work at a new job... but that story is all it's own.

Shoes didn't become anything important -- or even more than a passing thought - until I took my first job in sales.

As the director of sales at a downtown boutique hotel, I had the opportunity to dress up and be a little creative in my style. In my time working with clients and staff at the hotel, I noticed a distinct difference in how I was being perceived and treated when I wore shoes with a heel height of two inches or more. Observation has always been a strength of mine, and I took notes about the phenomena for a few weeks; it wasn't a serious scientific study, but the conclusions were obvious to me.

Shoes come with attitude for some of us. When I was struggling with a difficult boss, my dear friend sent me a package with this note in it:

Wear these bright yellow sandals and bring your own sunshine to work this week! - Let the haters hate!

They were three inch platform strappy yellow sandals and yes, I did wear them to work. My attitude was decidedly improved that day. Sometimes a little cue to catch my eye can work wonders on my internal dialogue. It's like a little spark of distraction; a reminder of who I am, and that while I cannot control someone else's behavior, I won't let it define me and my behavior.

Someone recently shared an article describing financial advantages of being tall; there are other studies to show that tall women are generally more successful in business. (I like to point out that I am one of the most comfortable people on any airplane, a distinct advantage when traveling.)

Though my titles haven't included the word "sales" since then, I've continued my observations about the differences when I'm a little bit taller, in how I believe I am perceived based on the treatment I receive by others.

I've come to some conclusions that have helped me over the past few years and I'm hopeful that those observations and strategies will help others. Here's one that I've shared a lot recently and have heard some great reviews following experiences by those who've tried it:

When you are planning your wardrobe for an event, meeting, or other important date, start with your shoes. Your shoes are the foundation of your wardrobe. Find shoes that make you feel good about the way you walk, the way you stand, the way you carry yourself. Invest in shoes that are comfortable AND that offer an indication of your style. Build your outfit around your shoes.

Try this strategy soon, and please comment and let me know your thoughts after you do your own experiment!

I know it sounds like a small detail, and it IS a small detail in the scheme of things. Like many other small details, like the grip of your handshake, the wrinkles around your eyes when you smile, and holding a door open for someone behind you, this one matters.

Sharing stories is a great way to communicate. Listen to my recent podcast to learn more about me and the work I do to help people communicate through storytelling.

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Comments on this post:

Leigh Gathright:

Thank you for the belly laugh as I visualized you traipsing around Colorado sans shoes. Probably made you a more grounded person, though! Putting one's best foot forward is always a confidence booster. As women, we have many ways to add flair and customize our own sense of style and personality to others. For me, it is probably my passion to wear an heirloom or uncommon-type necklace to put my best self out in the world each and every day.

Johanna Flores

Sarah- Fantastic article thank you for sharing. I agree 100'% it's the shoes, I can not leave my house without a fierce pair of stilettos that make me feel like I could take over the world and people always remember me by the shoes