TANSTAAFL – There Ain’t No Such Thing As A Free Lunch.

Robert Heinlein coined the acronym (though not the sentiment) 44 years ago in his book The Moon is a Harsh Mistress.  And it’s still true.

When you’re just starting out in business, a lot of people tell you to give away your work.  “For the experience,” they suggest, or “To get referrals and testimonials.”

There are those who say they’ve been very successful with this.  And that may be, though I suspect their success is the result of a well-crafted marketing strategy, which is quite different from giving away free work - and which is something most newcomers to small business and self-employment are seldom knowledgeable, aware, or skilled enough to do.

What I experienced instead, and what I’ve seen others experience, is an exhausting, discouraging grind of very hard work for very little return. 

When you’re starting out, it’s also very tempting to accept free work from others, or to exchange (barter) your work for theirs.

This can be a great partnership.  But it must be entered into with care to ensure that it really is a partnership.  You need to be sure that the work you’re getting is of a quality you’d actually pay for - that the person doing the work is someone you’d be willing to hire.

A client of mine accepted free website design, hosting, and implementation in return for favors he’d given in the past.  Because he knew the person, it didn’t occur to him to do the due diligence he’d have done if he were planning to pay.

To cut a long, painful story short, it was a disaster, plain and simple.  Fortunately, my technical and consulting background allowed me to step up and handle the project management, testing, troubleshooting, and problem resolution that weren’t being done.

When work is free, both parties feel different about it. 

The receiver tends to devalue it.  If you’ve ever hosted a free class, for instance, you know that only a few of the people who sign up actually show up. 

And the service provider is often uncommitted – as my client discovered – to delivering a quality result.

This is not to say it never works, because it does.  My business partner and I started out with his offer to work with me as a very generous gift – a gift for which I’ll always be grateful.  And I’ve happily worked on his website in return.

But it only works when both parties are wholly committed to showing up in the relationship – showing up with 100% of who they are and what they do.

And it only works when the service being delivered is one that the recipient would find worth paying for.

Otherwise?  Well, like my client, you may find that TANSTAAFL is a rule that holds true for you, too.

“Oh, ‘tanstaafl.’ Means – There ain’t no such thing as a free lunch.’ And isn’t,” I added, pointing to a FREE LUNCH sign across room, “or these drinks would cost half as much. Was reminding her that anything free costs twice as much in long run or turns out worthless.”

“An interesting philosophy.”

“Not philosophy, fact. One way or other, what you get, you pay for.”

- Robert Heinlein, The Moon is a Harsh Mistress, 1966

In my ongoing quest to prove that there are too seasons here in Southern California, I bring you my winter garden.

First, the camellia blooming in the corner of the yard.

Second, the Bird of Paradise just coming into bloom – I can see it out my kitchen window. This just one of about half a dozen flower spikes it’s putting up.  And yes, it’s as big as it looks – a good eight inches from the curve of the stem to the tip of the bottom part of the flower.

Next for your enjoyment is the absolutely enormous potted jade tree. I never knew they bloomed like this until I moved here!

Then there’s the apple tree.  You may remember this tree from all the apples I turned into apple butter last summer.  Looks like there’s going to be more this summer.

Finally, the acacia trees are coming into bloom. Screaming yellow, anyone?

You see, in the winter it’s milder and wetter, so this is the time of year when many plants put their energy into blossoms. 

It’s also the time of year when gardeners plant without worrying about water or heat stress – for the plants and for themselves!

These are the blooms on the Baja Fairy Duster bush my brother gave me for Christmas this year.

I think you can see why I love it.  And I’m delighted that I was able to get it in the ground before our rainstorms last week.  One after the other rolled through, dumping a lot of water.  It’s surprisingly hard to find rainfall numbers on the Web, but I did finally track down one site that says almost 4 1/2 inches fell in the seven days ending yesterday.  Given that our average annual rainfall is under 10 inches – wow!  (Glub, glub…) 

I’ve spared you the photo of the big branch that broke off the tree in my front yard.  Suffice to say I spent the morning cutting it down, and still have two big pieces that will require getting the chain saw out.

Much of that rain fell as snow in the mountains.  If I can get a photo (meaning, if I remember to take my camera with me when next I go somewhere in the car), I’ll add a snowy-mountain picture here later.  But I won’t be driving up to the mountains until it melts:  right now, to go above 4,000 feet on Palomar Mountain, you need chains.

So you see, we do have seasons – and weather – here!

This is a follow-on to my newsletter article “Who’re You Talkin’ To?”

It seems to be human nature – some things we have to learn by experience. 

Marketing coaches, books, blogs, teachers, gurus – they all tell you to get focused, get clear, narrow your focus, be specific. 

And just about every small business owner or independent professional fights it.   We’re sure that being focused means excluding potential clients and limiting our opportunities.  No matter how many times we hear about the real results people experience from being clear, specific, and focused, we’re still convinced that they’re the exception.

A toddler has to experience the burn of the hot stove before he really gets his father’s “Don’t touch!” 

The toddler has it easy.  The pain of burning your fingers on the stove is direct, immediate, and memorable.

But the pain of not having a clear understanding of your client focus is a dull ache.  It’s the ache of frustration and self-doubt that arises when your business struggles and you’re not reaching the people you know you can help.

And you’re in constant contact with that hot stove – with the frustration and struggle - instead of just touching it and letting go.  So you don’t have an unpainful experience as an alternative reference point.

The resistance to getting clear goes beyond anxiety about limiting your scope and excluding potential customers.  That’s very real and very present for many people.  It’s the objection most often voiced when they’re asked why they haven’t narrowed their focus.  And it’s where many people focus their effort to convince themselves that they really do need to be more clear.

But often, a lot of insecurity and doubt lurks underneath.  It’s just not safe to be that certain and specific!  Who is it that you’re really here to help?  And who are you to think you can actually help them?  What about your best friend, who says you should be doing this, even though deep down something is calling you to do that? 

I know this path well.  For years, I was convinced beyond any doubt that my 25-year corporate background meant I should be working with executives. 

It wasn’t until I recognized how glad I am to be out of that world that I realized it’s not where my heart lies.

And the more I step up to and see the real value of what I’m good at – instead of giving it away because it’s easy for me – the more clients I have, the more people I help and inspire, and the happier I am.

It takes work.  It takes a commitment to looking deep and being honest with yourself about what you really want and what’s really true for you – not what you or anyone else think “should” be, but what really is.

It takes a willingness to not know – and that’s very hard and frightening for many people.  But until you don’t know, you can’t find out, because you’re stuck in the mire of shoulds and expectations.

It takes experimentation and exploration, because it’s an organic unfolding that keeps going deeper and broader.  If – as my business partner used to say to me  – you keep pulling the seedling up to look at its roots, you only stunt its growth.

It takes an awareness of yourself and an understanding that the process isn’t “once and done” but an amazing evolution.

And I’ve come to see that for those of us who are in business from our hearts, it’s essential.

What do you think?  What’s your experience been with this process?

You’ll find that reading my newsletter article “The Power of Intention” and my business partner’s article “Need, Want, and Choose” will help this post make more sense.  The links open in a new window, so you won’t lose your place on this page.

On New Year’s morning at dawn, I was on the beach watching the moon set and the sun rise.

I’m a morning person.  For me, it makes complete sense to be up in the wee hours of the new year, walking the beach, playing tag with the incoming tide, and seeing the birds wake up and the dolphins roll in the surf.  Some of my most profound experiences of deep Silence have been on New Year’s mornings amid the crash of the waves and cry of the seagulls.

This year, I received a gift.

Halfway down the beach, with the sun’s light just beginning to shade the eastern sky from black to indigo blue, a core intention arrived.  It didn’t announce itself in any way.  If I hadn’t been attuned to Stillness and not to my thoughts, I might have missed it.

I choose to be who and what I truly am.

One of the interesting things about intentions is that what rings through one person’s being like a bell may leave everyone else unmoved.

And that’s exactly as it should be.

So if this intention means nothing at all to you – if you’re raising an eyebrow and wondering what all the fuss is about – that doesn’t mean anything except that, well, it isn’t your intention. 

Ever since I received it on New Year’s morning, it’s been a constant background presence.  Sometimes it’s louder – sort of like when you get a song stuck in your head (though not nearly as annoying).  Sometimes it’s quieter, a subsonic hum in the bones of my being.

I choose to be who and what I truly am.

Living this intention – though when an intention rings this powerfully, it may be more accurate to say that it’s living me – has already been interesting.  There are no excuses left for me to hide any part of who and what I am, from myself or from anyone else.  No more masks, no more altering myself to try to be what I think others want from me.

Just me.  Who and what I truly am.

With all of that said, there are two things I want to point out from the standpoint of the original article and the conversation I’d like to invite here.

First, intentions arrive in different ways for different people.  And the most powerful intentions arrive without being figured out or thought through.

Second, I’ve said it before, and it bears repeating:  intentions aren’t goals. 

For many people, goals and objectives quickly become rules and ways to feel bad about yourself.   I freely acknowledge that this is especially true for me – and you’ll notice that there’s nothing that even hints at a goal in I choose to be who and what I truly am.  It allows me all the space I could possibly want to feel what I feel and be where I am in any given moment.  What it doesn’t let me do is deny that or turn away from myself…

When I work with clients to help them set intentions, we often find ourselves exploring goals to begin with.  It’s not until we dive deeper into questions of how someone wants to feel and be that the true intention shows up.

What comes up for you?  What’s been your experience with goals, intentions, and choices?

I’d love to hear!

I’ve spent the last few weeks answering questions on an “ask the coach” thread on a women’s forum called “altdotlife.”  It’s been great fun.  And I’ve been delighted by the sheer number of questions, and especially by the profoundly real quality of them – thoughtful, well-explained, and almost unanimously impassioned and heartfelt.

Most of the women on this forum – or at least, most of those who asked questions – are in the early to early-middle stages of their careers.  Many of them have advanced degrees.  They’re smart, highly-educated, articulate, and want their careers to be more than just “a job” – they’re seeking meaning and value.

For me, looking back from a rather older perspective (to say the least!), it was poignant in many ways.  I can’t help thinking that if more people had these women’s views on their work, the world would be a happier – and probably healthier and more prosperous – place.

With all of that in mind, a recurring theme around “princess syndrome” was really striking to me.

What, you may ask, is this?   I’d never heard of it, but the context made it pretty clear.

Many of them feel as if they’re very fortunate.  They recognize that they’re relatively well off.  They have good educations and many of them are starting families.  They feel as if they have a lot.

And many of them feel guilty because, in the midst of having so much, their jobs strike a jarringly unsatisfying note.  Whether it’s not being sufficiently challenged, not doing work they feel is worthwhile or an expression of who they are, or they’re just not happy in the career where they’ve landed, they don’t feel right, somehow, about what they do for a living.

Yet because they feel privileged, in one way or another, they’re asking the deeply sad question:  do I deserve to enjoy my job?  Or should I just suck it up and not make waves – since I have so much in the rest of my life?

In other words, they feel like princesses.  They feel as if they not only shouldn’t complain, they shouldn’t even try to do anything about how they feel.  They feel as if they shouldn’t even feel the way they do!

Of course I said – sometimes quite vehemently! – that they, just like everyone else, absolutely deserve to feel excited and inspired about what they do for a living.*

I even played dirty once or twice, asking, “What sort of example are you setting for your daughter if you allow yourself to be ’sucked under’ by this job that’s so completely not who you are?”

I’m happy to say that I think some of these women are taking steps – sometimes very big steps, sometimes apparently-smaller steps, but in every case very brave steps – towards change.  I’m pretty sure I’ve made a difference – and as you know if you’ve been reading this blog and/or my newsletters (especially my Personal Manifesto post), that’s what’s incredible and meaningful for me in what I do!

And I wanted to bring this “princess syndrome” question out of hiding, as it were – out of the privacy of that forum, and put it here, in the public view.  I wanted to say, in this public place, that I think it’s a dreadful, terrible shame that these young women feel this way.**

I wanted to say that if any of you feel this way, please ask yourself if it’s true.  Is it true that you don’t deserve a good, rewarding job just because you may feel grateful and fortunate in other areas of your life?   Instead, isn’t it more true that not having a job you can enjoy to the hilt means that those other aspects of your life take on a slightly dimmer cast?  You spend too many hours of your life at work for it to be something other than what you want!

And I wanted to say that if any of you knows someone who feels this way – who’s got “princess syndrome” going on – please encourage her to step into the truth of what she wants.

You may not know what you want – but I know you know when you’re stuck in something you don’t want.  And just because you spent time, effort, and money on getting started in a career doesn’t mean you’re tied to it for life. 

Life is too short to feel suffocated, sucked under, stagnated in a job or a career that’s not right for you.  After all, it could be amazingly right for someone else.  So explore, learn, experiment, and discover what is right for you!

*Assuming someone wants to, that is; there are those who are content to do less-than-inspiring (for them) jobs, and find their joy and inspiration outside of work.

**There may be young men who have a similar “prince syndrome”; I don’t know, though given what I do know about the different ways men and women approach work and what they want, I’m going to say I rather doubt it.

Today my business was audited by the IRS.

Of course it was absolutely absurd for the IRS to spend money on auditing tiny little excruciatingly honest me.  

And it was fascinating. 

To start with, the IRS man, who, since I didn’t ask permission, I’ll just call by his first initial – “M” – was very nice.  Not that I expected otherwise,  but it was delightful to go through the process with someone who was just genuinely nice and whom I could enjoy talking and even laughing with.

And the whole thing took about 1/3 the time he’d told me to expect.

Why?  Very simple:  I have very complete, very organized records.

My being organized is slightly legendary among friends and acquaintances.  I’ve been called everything from anal to self-disciplined.  I don’t think the former is true, and the latter is definitely not.

You see, I have an absolute hatred for not being able to find things.  Therefore, it’s pretty much impossible for me to create piles of stuff, or to not file things, or even to not balance my checking accounts.   It would, weirdly enough, be far more of an effort of self-discipline for me to not be organized. 

This meant that, following the instructions in the letter I received from M, I spent about two hours over the weekend collecting file folders and printing out the electronic receipts for Internet purchases I’d made that year.

When he arrived, it was all laid out on my dining room table.  He spent about 45 minutes interviewing me about my business and my records, and then I turned him loose on the folders and went back to work.

And because it was all so organized, and because everything on one side of the picture (deposits to my business and personal accounts) had an origin on the other side of the picture (business income, for instance), he was done by noon. 

Initially, it seemed that my tax software had barfed and created an error in the IRS’s favour. 

But then we spent an additional half hour tracking down an apparent discrepancy, and discovered that the barfing was actually in my favor. 

To cut a rapidly-growing-too-long story short, here’s what I learned that might help you in your IRS travels, whether you have a business of your own or not.

1. Keep those records.  Even if for you it is a matter of self-discipline, it’s so worth it.  M told me that most audits take at least a day, usually a day and a half or more.   And if your records are wonky, not only will it be a more-painful audit process, but you’ll just generally have a greater chance of missed deductions and other errors.  All of which will have to be sorted out in an audit, and which may be costing you real money every year.
2. Don’t panic.  These guys aren’t here to catch you doing something wrong.  They really are – or at least, M certainly was – just interested in ensuring accuracy.
3. Be aware of what might flag an audit.  In my case, it was three things – and I’d do them all exactly the same again, with the possible exception of the error made by my tax software!
   1. This was an audit of an early year in my business, and one of their questions was, quite reasonably, “How is she paying her bills?”  (A question I wondered about myself that year…)
   2. The deduction for utilities was disproportionately high versus known utility rates, what would be expected for a utility bill for a home office, and what I’d reported the previous year.  (This is where my tax software goofed.)
   3. Similarly, my health insurance premiums were disproportionate to what I’d reported the previous year.  (That was easy; I’d for some reason not reported any the previous year, even though I’d had insurance.)
4. Be aware that your tax software (if you use software) or even your paid tax preparer person (if that’s how you get your taxes done) can goof.  That’s what happened to what was reported for my utility bills.  I’m not at all sure what I’d do differently, because I rather doubt I’d have caught the errors that were made… but I do plan to review the final filing a little more carefully now I know what can happen.

Even though you may be running a very small, not to say itty-bitty, business, the tax man is watching.  So if you don’t know how to keep accurate records, get help.  (I owe my friend Sherry a HUGE vote of thanks for her help getting my bookkeeping process established early on in my business!)

And if you do get picked for an audit, don’t panic.  Making it easy for them will help them make it easy for you. 

Me?  I not only have a whole unexpected half day today to catch up on work I’d expected to be doing tomorrow, but it also looks like I’ll probably be getting a very small check from the IRS.  (Very small.  But better that, than t’other way around!)

I’ve fought with time all my life.

I’m ridiculously productive.  My motto for years was, “Do it now!”  I’m fast in almost everything I do, from knitting (I was America’s Fastest Knitter in 2002) to typing, from copywriting to helping my clients realize new perspectives and discover new directions.  I’ve been hosting a very active “ask the coach” thread on a women’s forum (altdotlife), and one person commented, “You’re a machine!”

It’s exhausting.  I constantly wonder if there’s enough time to do everything I need to get done.  Even though I know that there’s always enough time, in an absolute sense – just enough, never too much, never too little - I’ve endlessly continued the battle.

As my business grows, I’ve been presented with opportunity upon opportunity to see how painful this relationship with time really is.  And I see the direct connection between my fight with time and my feelings about enrolling new clients.  My clients’ deadlines and appointments always come first.  So when I’m in constant conflict with time, how can I not feel anxious about adding new work to my schedule?

And of course it’s not just this sense of pressure.  There’s also a big cloud of resentment that hangs around and dumps on me every so often.  Blech.

I’m sick of it.  I’m done with it.  I choose to stop.  I’m ready to heal my relationship with time, to find peace instead of struggle. 

The part of me that’s perpetuated the battle is sure that this means disaster. 

Fortunately, the bigger “I” knows I’m perfectly capable of getting things done, on time and well, without having to fight with time and myself every step of the way.

Actually, that part of me suspects it’s all going to get done even faster.

Because after all, who needs to spend time fighting with time?

(Just for the record, time doesn’t actually exist.  I mean, have you ever experienced any moment other than “now”?  But that’s really a whole nother question…)

There are some people whose marketing is a force of nature.

Their personalities are so strong and clear in everything they do that they sweep all before them. There’s no doubt who their audience is.  Everyone either loves them or hates them.  And both the love and the hate create a buzz around them.  They arrive on the scene as if out of nowhere and appear to achieve instant, overnight success.

For those of us who don’t have that type of personality, it can feel a tad frustrating.  You might be naturally more introverted – or you might just feel that you don’t want to be quite as brazen and in-your-face as some people are.  Whatever it is, you watch these people as they enjoy a level of success you’d kill for, and wish you had some of that secret sauce.

If it sounds like I’m speaking from a certain amount of experience, well, yeah.  Envy has come to roost in my office on more than a few occasions.  “Why can’t I do that? Why can’t I have dozens and hundreds of comments on my blog?  Why can’t I…”  And so on.

Have you ever been there? 

Of course, the reality is, those people worked very hard to get where they are.  They didn’t actually just appear out of nowhere; they climbed up to that place just like anyone else.  They had their own moments of struggle and doubt and fear.  And they suffer the consequences of being hated – look at some of those dozens and hundreds of comments on their blogs, and you’ll see plenty of angry disagreement and nastiness.

If you’re thinking you’d love to have problems like that, well, yeah.  I understand that, too.

The thing is, though, it’s got to be real. 

It’s obvious, of course, when I say you can’t decide to be “just like so-and-so,” but you’d be surprised how many people try it.  For instance, a terrific web designer I know (Allie Rice at alliecreative.com) reports that she often has clients who say, “I want my site to look just like …” 

Oscar Wilde said, “Be yourself.  Everyone else is already taken.”   It’s annoyingly obvious.  And it’s vulnerable and scary.

However, the further I go along my own path of being in business, becoming vitally connected to what I do and why I do it, the more I discover that it’s essential.  When I show up as me, I may not feel as if I’m anywhere near the force of nature some people are.  But I have a lot more fun and a lot more success.

And I’m very grateful for my clients and my fans – because the reality is, I do have people who love me and my work. 

You do too.

Last week I wrote about the second-hardest thing in networking: following up.

If you’ll recall, I mentioned how only about 7% of people who say they’re going to follow up actually do follow up. 

I’ve continued testing that statistic.  I’ve talked with people about it (they’re universally surprised – “Only 7%?  really?”), and I’ve then given them a good reason to follow up with me.

Does it surprise you to learn that there’s absolutely no change to the statistic?  It’s still at about 7%.  Or less.   Pretty funny.  I thought I’d get at least 10%.

The good news is, if you DO follow up, you’re immediately at a huge advantage.  Whether you’re looking for a new client, a job, or just making connections, your following up means you’re part of a very select, very special minority. 

So how do you make following up easy?

On my last post, Alistair commented that he thinks one reason people don’t follow up is because they don’t view it as a separate step.  That’s a great observation, and spot on target. 

Schedule time in your calendar for follow-up

It can be as simple as that.  The day after an event, block out an hour for follow-up activities.  If you don’t need an hour (maybe you only met one person you want to connect with), great – it’s a gift of extra time in your day, yippee.

Promise people something

One of the biggest reasons people don’t follow up is because they have no reason to do so.  Without a reason, they waffle on sitting down to write the email or pick up the phone.  It’s hard to do.  In some ways, it’s even worse than making cold calls.  At least with cold calls (or cold emails) the person you’re trying to reach has a good reason for ignoring you – a reason that doesn’t have anything to do with you personally. 

But if you meet someone at an event and then email or call them a day or two later, and they never respond - it feels more like a personal rejection.

By promising to send something – an article they might be interested in, a link to a website or blog they’d find useful, whatever it might be – you now have a reason to be emailing or calling.  Not just any reason, either:  a reason based in your generosity.  You’re giving them something.   That makes it a LOT easier.

Not so incidentally, it also makes it easier for the person you’re following up with to respond back, even if just to say “thanks.” 

Make a concrete suggestion

The whole point of following up is to nurture the connection you began forming when you met. 

If the follow-up just says, “Hey, nice meeting you,” there’s not much nurturing going on, and not much point in bothering.

If this is someone you want to know better – and if it’s not, then why are you bothering? – it’s up to you to suggest a next step.  Usually, that’s to meet for coffee or lunch.  But don’t just say, “I’d like to get together for coffee sometime.”    That’s wishy-washy, and invites an equally wishy-washy answer.

Instead, try, “I’d like to continue our conversation over coffee.  How does next Tuesday at 3:00 sound?  Do you know any good places to meet?”

When you make a specific suggestion, the other person is far more likely to respond.  Even if she says “no,” she might offer an alternative time, date, or place. 

Other ideas?

What do you do as part of your follow-up process?

What stops you from following up?

If these ideas were useful, there are a lot more in my networking workbook-and-audio package. In fact, it’s full of practical material – exercises and information – about all aspects of networking, from why it feels so hard (and how to make it easier), to how to get very, very strategic about picking events to attend. Take a look!

I went to a networking event last Wednesday evening.  I spoke with various people I know, plus a few who were new to me.

Several of them said they’d be in touch with me about things I can help them with – things they need or want.

One of them has followed up.  That’s actually a surprisingly high number.  In the networking class I teach (and the networking workbook/audio program I offer), we talk about how only about 7% of people who say they’re going to follow up actually do.

Seven percent!

That’s crazy.  And yet, it’s absolutely my experience.

I’ve met job-seekers whom I offered to introduce to someone who absolutely could help them.  I’ve offered people free passes to events they wanted to go to.  Friends have told me of saying, “Call me – I want to hire you!” to people they’ve met.

And none of those people ever followed up.

Following up is the second-hardest part of networking

It’s bad enough to have to show up, all perky and articulate, in a roomful of strangers.  (Especially if you’re an introvert like me!)

But then you get home and you have to sort through a pile of business cards, remember which belonged to whom, and … follow up.  Pick up the phone, write the email. 

It’s a second round of vulnerability.  And you’re not prepared for it.  

You prepared yourself to get to the event.  And then you relaxed.  You didn’t prepare yourself for the second whammy of having to follow up with all those nice strangers you met.

In some ways, it’s even more vulnerable.  Sure, walking into a roomful of strangers can feel just a tad nervewracking.  But there’s something more at stake when you’re reaching out to a single individual, someone you don’t know, and asking them for something.  (And you are asking – even if just for the courtesy of a reply, a few minutes of their time.)

At the risk of sounding like a certain athletic-shoe company … just do it.

You’ll stand out, because you’ll be one of that 7%. 

And honestly, if you don’t follow up, you might just as well stay home in the first place.

In my next post, I’ll cover a couple of ways to make it easier to follow up.  (You can find that post here.)

Between now and then – why not pick one person you meant to follow up with – and then pick up the phone?