You grab an umbrella and keep on moving forward. It’s the only thing to do.
Oh, and then you go ahead and just let that crap fall where it falls.
The end.
:)
My Mother grew up in chilly Fargo, North Dakota, and like many of her local nieghbors and friends, her family had a lake cabin an hour away in Minnesota. Second homes back then weren’t as huge of a financial undertaking as they are today, and her family spent practically every weekend there during the summer months. As a lake girl, waterskiing was a big part of those weekends. Kids, teenagers, parents, everyone skied. I even think there are a few stories swirling around out there about boyfriends who would stand on the dock locked into their skis, tell the boat to hit it, and hop out over the water at the exact perfect timing with the tow rope. They would barely even touch the water!
Show-offs.
Every summer of my life I have spent a week or so up at the lake with my parents and Grandmother. The place holds such memories for me. I look forward to that time every year, often dreaming and planning and thinking about it months before we’re scheduled to go. The majority of my childhood memories take place in and around that cabin. It’s truly where I feel most at home. Happiest. Comfiest.
Something else I remember from those childhood summers were the heavy, ancient, wooden set of water skis that were always propped up in the corner of the cabin. They were the same pair my Mom and her friends used in high school and college, and they were the lone pair that would be used if anyone while I was growing up wanted to ski. I believe they had a signature on them of some supposedly-famous skier – Dick Pope, I think? Who this fellow is, I have no idea, but I read his name every year when I first arrived at the cabin and my eyes fell on those skis in the corner.
In the summer of 1995, my Grandma was very ill. Unable to travel to the cabin and join us for our annual trip, we invited our extended family from my Dad’s side to join us instead. Aunts and uncles, cousins, the whole bit. With all of these teenage kids around, it was determined at some point that we would all learn how to waterski. I mean, why not! We were healthy and athletic teens and tweens. We could handle it.
This is also the same time that my Mom, who hadn’t skied for a couple decades, popped right up on ONE little ski and showed us how it was really done. She was a 44 year-old rockstar on the water.
Show-off.
When my turn arrived, not only had my Mom proven her athletic prowess, but my little sister too. I was the tomboy in the family, the more sports-minded one. My sister, Jill, was the dancer and girly girl of the two of us. If she popped right up and cruised around the lake like it was no big deal, there was no way I wasn’t going to do the same thing.
That didn’t really happen.
I tried and tried to get up on the skis. I would get situated, floating in the water like I was sitting in a chair, my skis parallel to each other, the top half of them sticking straight up out of the water, my arms straight, and tow rope directly between the skis. I’d yell HIT IT! and two seconds later I’d be back down in the water. Most of the time I never even made it out of the water.
HIT IT! Lose my grip on the rope handle.
HIT IT! Face plant.
HIT IT! Tip over to the left.
HIT IT! Tip over to the right.
It was a sad scene.
Lean forward too much and you’ll just get pulled right up and then down on your face. Lean back too much and you’ll plow so much water your legs will give out. Bend your arms and you’ll lose your balance. Forget to rely on your knees as shock absorbers and, well, anything could happen.
Once you’re up on the skis, it’s smooth sailing. It’s relatively easy to balance and stay upright. But getting up in the first place – that’s the majority of the battle.
I was losing that battle, and I was losing bad.
One last attempt, we all decided. I was tired. But I was determined.
Floating, parallel, arms, rope, HIT IT!
Uhhh, oh! Ohhh. Ack! Oh! Oh she’s got it! Ehhh, ohhh, hold on, hold ooonnnnn!
I popped up. Omg! I had done it! I was on top of the water! But, barely. There was a problem – I had gotten up but, once there, couldn’t quite find my center of balance. My body was fighting, fighting hard, wobbling this way and that, my athletic abilities working on the ultimate test. Just hold on, just…hold…on….almost…got…it.
AHH!
It probably lasted all of ten seconds, but down I went. And then…and then…and then something went terribly wrong. I fell backwards when I finally lost my balance, quickly going horizontal in the air, my feet pointing towards the boat. On the way down I let go of the tow rope, as one normally would, and my feet popped out of the skis, as they normally would. In a classic example of perfect timing, at the exact moment the tow rope flew past my feet it ran right into my left ankle, one of two that were flying through the air, and caught it.
Instead of falling backwards into the water and calmly waiting until the boat circled around to retrieve me, the boat dragged me by my feet. One of my feet, to be precise.
I remember thinking Huh, this is odd” as I knew I wasn’t vertical and on top of the water anymore, but I sure wasn’t fully submerged in the water either. I remember the odd feeling of my head bouncing around as it “skied” across the water. Apparently my body, flying horizonally across the surface, wasn’t very aerodynamic.
Eventually, my fifteen year-old cousin, who was the one sitting backwards in the boat and assigned to watch the skier and communicate if and when they fell, notified the driver of what was going on. By that point, though, I had come loose.
The whole thing, from first saying HIT IT! to falling to dragging to coming loose, probably lasted twenty seconds. Maybe.
Since I was dragged feet first, the force of the water threw my arms above my head, and conveniently allowed my life jacket to slide all the way up and over my head and off.
I can’t imagine the view from the spectators in the boat. They start to circle around and spot me treading water with a look of shock and confusion on my face, one ski over there, another ski beyond that, and then my lifejacket way over yonder. I had dotted the lake with my belongings. And myself.
I’ve never been a good swimmer, but I knew how to swim, so when I came loose I instinctively started treading water. No lifejacket? No problem. I had it handled. Aside from the fact that I had no clue what the hell just happened, I was under control.
Ping.
“Hmm. What was that?”
Ping. Ping. Pong.
“Weird, what the heck is that? My left ankle feels kinda- AHHHH. AHH. AHH. AHHH. OWWWWWWWWWWW. AHHHHHHHHH!”
It, like, kinda hurt, man.
Yelling to the boat that I was no longer able to enjoyably tread this water, they hurried over and whisked me up, and we started to piece together the details of what just went wrong.
I was taken back to shore, where everyone ohh’d and ehh’d and grimaced at my bruised and battered ankle. It wasn’t broken, miraculously, but the pressure of the rope had pushed every ounce of fluid out of the tissues on my ankle in a half inch-wide indentation that went most of the way around it. It looked absolutely freakish and was quickly turning shades of violet and yellow.
For the rest of the week I watched from the sidelines as everyone else in my immediate and extended family cruised around the lake on those two wooden planks. I was resigned to watching and wearing the only shoes I had with me that provided enough support to hobble around in – black hightop Nike Air Jordan’s.
They were hot.
I was fourteen at the time of the now-infamous Annie Waterskiing Incident, and you better believe that I stayed far, far away from even thinking about skiing for many, many summers afterwards. I finally did find the courage sometime in my mid-twenties to give it another try, and I successfully popped up and carefully circled around for a bit, but I was never much of a fan.
Dick Pope? Famous waterskier dude? Pfsshh. I bet he’s never been dragged by the tow rope. I bet he’s never been dragged by the tow rope FEET FIRST. And you know what? I bet he’s never counted one of his only real fears in life as a half-inch wide piece of nylon connected to a 150 horsepower Mercury either.
So I’ve got THAT goin’ for me.
I’m not sure when it started, but the past couple times I’ve purchased something at Barnes & Noble, I get one of these:
It comes attached by a little niblet of paper to my full sales receipt. Now, I’m not a marketing expert or a sales expert, and I’m definitely not a retail expert, but I’d have to say that this is pretty cool on all fronts. Usually personal, applicable recommendations for future purchases are a benefit only provided to online retailers.
How can WE use this, even if we’re not saving cookies on the hard drives of our frequent customers?
I like to think that they’re snickerdoodles, by the way. The cookies, I mean. You know, the cookies saved on our hard drives. Mmm. Snickerdoodles. They’re all buttery and cinnamony and just perfection, am I right?
Hello? [tap tap] This thing on?
[sigh] Nevermind.
So, this receipt. Why don’t I have a section on my blog that suggests a couple other posts related to the one you’re currently reading?
Facebook does it with Suggested Friends.
Twitter, too.
Many successful bloggers incorporate it into their design, usually suggesting by tagged subject or keyword.
Online news sites are great at it, linking to several other articles in the margins of the one that has your focus.
What else? Who else?
How can you provide suggestions for future purchases – for future engagements – to your audience?
Future engagements – further engagement. Good food for thought, don’t you think?
Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to hop on over to the bakery before Hubz gets home and catches me…
Sometime during the spring of 2000, sitting in the sixties-themed basement of Burge Hall on the University of Iowa campus, I was handed a book that would spark one of the biggest themes of my life; personal development.
The book was eye opening for me, and it wasn’t just because of the advice and information in that specific book, although it was pretty wonderful. (It was Rich Dad Poor Dad. Remember?) Reading and digesting author Kiyosaki’s philosophies on money and business opened my mind to a myriad of possibilities that I never even knew existed. For me, it was a game-changer. A HO.LY.CRAP. moment that forever altered the ideas I had for my life.
With the exception of a few rebellious years during middle school – I’m sorry, Mom. I’m really, really sorry. – I have always been a big reader. But RDPD launched me into a whole other planet of reading.
I didn’t just read for entertainment anymore. I read for entertainment and education and inspiration and curiosity.
Keep up that habit for the better part of 12 years and one will start to accumulate quite the list of Have Reads. Having such a list, I get asked regularly about what books I’d recommend.
Hey Annie, I’m going on vacation to the beach, what fluffy novel shall I take with me?
Annie, I like non-fiction! What do you recommend?
Hi, I’m a personal development newbie, what can you throw at me?
Hi Annie, I’m a Type A, coffee-drinking, overly driven, tidy but sometimes disorganized, perfectionist but laid back, tomboy who likes to fish and watch Star Trek with her Dad and get drunk on New Paperback Smell who wears too many hats and is snobby about her pedicures and IS THERE ANY HOPE FOR ME?
Ok. Just kidding on that last one.
Sort of.
Of everything in the massive genre of Self Improvement and Personal Development, I think the books that generally but forcefully open your mind to new ways of thinking – and new ways of living – can be the most powerful.
These books aren’t specifically business-related. They’re just, well, they’re just life-related. Take a look at ’em if you need a jolt of creativity or inspiration, an excuse to think a bit bigger and reflect on your life, or just want to be introduced to a new idea.
They’re usually shorter reads, and the kind that keep you pondering long after you’ve flipped the last page.
Here are my top 5 recommendations for books that will rip open your mind and force you to think differently than you ever have before:
–
1.
Poke the Box
Oh Seth. Everyone knows that it’s often more difficult to make an impact with a shorter piece of writing than a longer one, and you are the master at this. Short, concise, powerful. Yum, yummy, and yummier.
Poke the Box introduces a new way of thinking about how you can change the environment around you, take personal responsibility for that environment, and make it bigger and better.
It will inspire you to stop assuming that the way things work now is the way they always has to work, or that the way they work for others is the way they have to work for you. This book is revolutionizing in the way that only Godin knows how – with the simplest, most profound of ideas.
–
2.
The Slight Edge (Revised Edition): Turning Simple Disciplines Into Massive Success
I know, I know. I’ve mentioned this book before. But with good reason!
It’s just so.darn.good.
The Slight Edge is very similar in concept to a few other books out there. Notably The Compound Effect and 212: The Extra Degree. In my opinion The Slight Edge the best of the three for the simple reason that it’s applicable to any area of life – business, relationships, home, everything.
This is one of the books I find myself recommending to people over and over and over again. It’s enjoyed by and applicable to personal development first-timers, business first-timers, non-fiction first timers, all sorts.
It’s. It’s just wow.
The examples that Olson uses to powerfully support his theory – that the smallest of differences in effort and execution, exponentially added over time, are what makes the difference between success and failure, between the majority of average and the minority of extraordinary – are perfect. They are detailed enough that you can imagine and understand, yet still generic enough that they can relate to anybody in any situation.
I dare you to read this book and not turn the volume up on your work one tiny notch today for the possibility of what it can do for your tomorrow.
–
3.
The Art of Non-Conformity: Set Your Own Rules, Live the Life You Want, and Change the World
You know what this book gives you? Permission. And ohh, what a grand thing that is to have, especially when it comes to ideas about business or life that shy away from the mainstream.
The confidence and determination that having permission to feel a certain way provides is indescribable. And powerful. And infectious.
After all, isn’t it fear of change and what others will think the reason that the vast majority of people simply hope for something better, instead of taking action towards something better? Permission to act anyway is huge.
You also have to give Guillebeau props for the last bit of the sub-title; Change the World. Who doesn’t want to figure out how to be a part of that, right?
–
4.
The 4-Hour Workweek, Expanded and Updated: Escape 9-5, Live Anywhere, and Join the New Rich
Oh Tim. Timmy Tim Tim.
I struggled with whether to include this book in this list, as it’s pretty specific to Ferriss’ views of lifestyle design. To His Way of doing things. However, when I first read this book three or four years ago, it did significantly alter my thinking. Or, it altered the limitations I had in my thinking. It really, really did, and I can’t deny that.
With the expanded and updated edition, Ferriss includes dozens and dozens of stories and testimonials from followers of his. How they have made the impossible possible for their lives and their lifestyles. If nothing else, ignore the specifics and use their stories to enlarge your mind. They provide the real proof on how these elements of lifestyle design can realistically be applied.
You need facts and details while you’re dreaming. This will give it to you.
–
5.
The Book of Awesome
I mentioned this book, and the blog that’s behind it, a couple weeks ago in an edition of Feature Friday. After reading it, my mother-in-law called me and mentioned how much she liked the site.
What stood out to me as I read this book was the humor and awareness of the everyday things that Pasricha points out.
Kind of like comedians, you know? They point out the mundane, make you think twice about your surroundings and the facts of life that you take for granted, and often make you laugh about it. That’s what I noticed, anyway. But my mother-in-law immediately picked up on the stronger message behind the book – gratitude.
Gratitude!
Because if you suddenly open your eyes to all of the amazing – read: Awesome! – things that happen during our day, you acknowledge you gratitude for the fact that they even exist.
After all, popping bubble wrap is fun, the smell of rain on a hot sidewalk is yummy, and waking up and realizing it’s Saturday is so satisfying. (Also satisfying? Fixing electronics by smacking them! Brilliant, Neil. Absolutely brilliant.) We should more often open our eyes to appreciate those little things, and shower our gratitude upon them.
–
So there you go, my top book recommendations for opening your mind. Read ’em and be prepared for your brain to swell.
What mind-bending books would you add to the list?
I spent several hours this morning catching my breath after returning from our nine days in beautiful Minnesota lake country. I caught up on the emails, blog posts, and voicemails that I wasn’t able to quickly filter via my phone while I was away from home. In doing so, I ended up making a massive list for this afternoon. I gave it a header of Connect With: and went to town. I wrote down name after name after name.
Some of them were folks on Twitter that I hadn’t said hello to in a few weeks. Others were Vemma team members that I should have called before I left, but didn’t, and now the amount of time that had passed since I last communicated with them was setting off my Uncomfortable Alarm. A few were local friends, a few were out of town friends. Several were business contacts it was just about darn time I reminded I was thinking about them. Many were online friends that had replied to or mentioned me and I hadn’t said, Hey! Thanks!, yet.
I spent the afternoon connecting, and within a matter of a couple hours I touched several dozen people via phone, email, text, Twitter, and Facebook.
And you know what? I made more progress and sparked more awesome things in all aspects of my businesses and networking efforts in those couple hours this afternoon than I felt like I had in ages. AGES.
Logically, I know that is not the case, as I connect with people all the time. But there’s something to be said for bunching a boatload of it together in a short period of time. It creates a buzz, an energy. It builds momentum.
That momentum? It’s powerful stuff, man.
Connecting isn’t complicated. It doesn’t take a lot of work. You just have to do it.
You don’t need a business reason to call someone. You don’t need a personal reason to call someone. You just have to do it.
Do it to say hello. Or thank you.
Do it to remind them that you’re thinking about them.
Do it to let them know that you haven’t forgotten.
That’s it. Connecting. Or even better, unnecessarily connecting. As it’s never required, right? But those that do it will be so much further ahead than those that don’t.
I recorded a video over a year ago related to this topic. It’s posted below if you’d like to take a look at it.
“You cannot succeed by yourself. It’s hard to find a rich hermit.” – Jim Rohn
And on that note, if you’re reading this right now, high-five to you! Sending you much love and appreciation.
Couldn’t be here withoutcha,
Annie
———
Lakeside. 9 days.
It was a great week.
Now, I’m ready to get back to work.
I love my work.
Hubz said he’s not. Ready to get back, that is.
He, umm, doesn’t love his work.
I’m working on that.
I wrote a little. Blogged a little.
Thought a lot.
Relaxed a lot.
Read A LOT. Typical.
Fishing, floating, boating, sunning.
Snorkeling, fixing, shopping, eating.
Reading, playing, talking.
There was putt-putt at a newly discovered course and a couple giant Northern’s that got away.
A couple dozen Sunfish plucked out and fileted and fried, new trees planted to fill the holes, pictures taken, and beach gossip discussed.
A couple rainy mornings.
Many warm afternoons.
S’mores by the fire.
One lone firework tested, still good after living in the cabin for most of the last decade.
Four cases of Corona, eight bottles of wine.
Dinner on the Weber, fried food from the pub down the road.
Books completed by one, traded, then completed by another.
Projects for next year discussed, the constant cabin game.
Evening walks and boat cruises.
Pictures of sunsets.
There was laughing. Canine-related laughing.
Laughing at my parents’ dog as she routinely ventured out to sea in chase of the nine ducks that had taken residence on our stretch of beach.
Laughing as, lost in an unexpected cloud of exhaust from the ancient boat, she spun around and fell off the dock, sinking like a stone in her surprise.
It was a great week.
This was a week of vacation. A specific time away from it all.
Someday, when It happens, it will be different.
It. My someday reality. Our someday reality.
As someday a place like this will be reality. Not vacation. A place like this – with family, an outdoor landscape, a destination location. And we’ll relaxingly incorporate the vacation into the real life. Real life into the vacation.
A few weeks of every summer?
6 months of every year?
Every day of every year?
I’m not sure. But it will be something.
Closer and closer to it every day.
Life is already grand.
It’s getting grand-er.
Fishing, floating, boating, sunning.
Snorkeling, fixing, shopping, eating.
Reading, playing, talking.
Laking.
Contemplating.
Future-ing.
It was a great week.
———
This has been a Ridiculous, Halfway-Poetic Journal Entry brought to you by the scribbles in Annie’s notebook. It’s kinda dangerous in there, kids. Don’t forget your safety goggles.
And to add to that, is it fall yet? Are the leaves turning beautiful shades of orange and yellow and red yet? Are the mornings cool and crisp yet? Can I spend a lazy Saturday reading and tidying and writing with games on all day in the background, yet?
I’m excited.
Yup. Definitely excited.
Yesterday I talked about a talk about trying something new for 30 days.
What was that, Annie?
Sorry. Self-editing.
I promised not only to share with you what ideas I decide to implement for a fun-filled 30 days (still workin’ on it), but a friend of mine that’s working on a cool 30-day challenge of his own.
That friend is Grant Peelle. Yay, Grant!
A few weeks ago, frustrated with recent changes in his businesses and looking for a bout of inspiration and creativity, he decided to launch a personal challenge: create 30 short films in 30 days.
Grant is a filmmaker. It’s his love. His creativity. His thang.
What better way to spark – or re-spark – your creativity than by forcing yourself out of your comfort zone. Especially when you’re doing something you love.
Don’t you agree?
I thought so.
Grant posts his daily videos on his blog, http://grantpeelle.wordpress.com , and is well into Day 9 of his challenge. Stop by and say hello, will ya?
His videos are short and sweet (usually 1-2 minutes in length), always have a great soundtrack to push them along, and range in subject matter from a potential commercial for a Ford Focus
to a few hours in the life of his 4 year-old son
to a behind the scenes look at a professional recording session for a friend’s new information product.
Neat!
If you love film, creativity, or just witnessing someone accomplishing something really cool, you’ll enjoying spending a few minutes on this site.
Go Grant Go! Congrats on accomplishing almost one-third of your monthly challenge.
We’re cheering you on.
I'm an author, marketer, and mommy who loves to read, write, and drink coffee. My husband and I live in suburban Kansas City with our two little girls. This site chronicles my world. Thanks for stopping by!
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