Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Setting a Record

I realized today as I was knocking on doors that I'd sell more if I cared less. Let me explain that a little. To do so I'm going to use an analogy.

I love to slackline. It's fun. If you don't know what it is here's a brief explanation. SLACKLINING

When one is first learning how to slackline, the first thing I tell people is to not look down. I tell them to focus on a spot on the other side of the line, like a knot in the tree or the end of the line. As humans, when things get sketchy we look down. I constantly have to remind friends who are slacklining for the first time not to look down. Looking down only amplifies the action, making us shake more.

That can be applied to everyday life. When we focus on each little side to side movement, we often make them worse. But when we relax and allow our bodies to move with the line, and look at our objective, the wobbling decreases and in some cases, stops altogether. It's hard to explain to some until you've actually slacklined, but, the keys to success is relaxing, focusing on the objective and ignoring the subtle movements of the line as one moves forward.

The same can be said for the last few days with me and selling. As soon as I started to relax and focus on the objective, and ignored the subtle trip ups (i.e. mistaking products, using we verses I, things like that). Slacklining is fun, when I'm having fun, I do better. When I focus on either showing off, or I just stop having fun, I fall more, and struggle more. The same is applied to selling.

Basically, I just started having fun again. That is the biggest difference. Everything should be enjoyable, and if it's not, our attitude doesn't need to follow suit. Today I sold 8 verses the 1-3 that I've been averaging the last few weeks. A new record for me.

Monday, July 28, 2008

Stepping Stones

Today I was knocking and really didn’t have much success, but near the end of the night I started to talk to a women who was taking care of her roses. I did the typical approach, and she started to brush me off. I don’t remember how we got onto the subject but we started talking about road bikes and before I knew it we were sitting in her driveway, indian style, talking about anything and everything that came to mind.

One of the things we talked about was climbing Castleton Tower in Moab. I realized now that there is something very spiritual about accomplishing goals. Thinking back to that climb I realized a few things.

Half way up the climb, I went for a drop knee to get to the next hold. As I dropped my knee, I felt a pop, and then excruciating heat. I later found out that I had sprained my knee really badly, but that will come later. Anyways, I was faced with a decision. I could either continue up the tower or lower off from there. On one hand, I could have given up my goal, and ended the day for my friend Andrew and me, or I could muscle through the pain and finish it. I had lost the use of my left leg, but still had three limbs that worked. I relied on Andrew to help me. The climb took much longer than expected, but eventually I finished it.

At the top of the tower was an old army ammo box. Inside there was a log book and a pen. Everyone who made it to the top was to write the date, their name, and something about the climb. I realized at that moment that there were only a few thousand people in the history of the world that had ever set foot on the top of the tower. There were only a few thousand people in the history of the world that had seen what I’d seen. At that moment I felt so small in comparison to the universe and yet such a part of it, that it left an indelible impression in my mind. If I had given up at that moment, I would have forever regretted what might have been.

After a doctor's appointment, I found out that I had badly sprained my knee that that physical therapy was needed. I went through almost 2 months of therapy before my knee was good enough to climb on again. Was the pain worth it? Did the quote "No Pain, No Gain!" go through my head? Then, I might have said no...but now, a resounding yes has replaced that no.

Betty Spaghetti, as I now know her, helped me to realize that. I left that driveway with a better understanding of myself. But I think more importantly, I left with a greater sense of purpose, and a good friend who I may not see that often, but one that seems to me, will be a part of my life for many years to come. One that will share in my joys and triumphs, and my pains and failures. I look forward to the future. I'll be back, Betty, to see how you're doing, and to bring you pictures of my adventures.

Thank you, Betty Spaghetti!