Into the Maddening Crowd

zurich-airport

Photo credit: caribb / Foter / CC BY-NC-ND

I love the promise of airports.  While I’d certainly rather be the traveler than the volunteer chauffeur, I’m happy to drop off others when they need a ride.  I do it for the contact high of fluttery excitement, a feeling which taps into a pool of memories which still pulse with anticipation.  The trip up to the airport makes me feel like anything is possible.

I felt the same when we sent our Growing Gratitude app off to the App Store.  Clicking SUBMIT and pouring champagne, it felt like anything was possible.  One thing I have learned about being a volunteer airport chauffeur is that that feeling does not last.  The drive up is exhilarating with thoughts of fresh surroundings and the thrill of time spent out of context.  The drive home is still, quiet, lulling with thoughts of groceries and what’s on the DVR.  The post-App-Store-submission week was like that for me – still, quiet, lulling.  I was very aware of being the chauffeur and not the traveler, of groceries and what was on the DVR.

Our app arrived, safe and sound.  No worse for wear.  Looking incredibly like it had when we’d dropped it off the week before, even after having experienced so much.  Kansas City, Missouri to Cupertino, California.  Being one of 700,000 apps in the App Store is like being in a small airport where a year’s worth of travelers all show up for the same flight.  Crowded doesn’t cover it.

And instead of the drivers holding signs with passengers’ names on them, the travelers hold the signs.  “Want to launch birds at monkeys and make your DMV wait fly by?  I’m the app for you!”  “Manage your kids’ homework and keep track of the wine in your cellar for just $1.99!”

Ours shouts as best it can above the din, “I’m going to change the way we say thank you! I’m fun, easy, personal, authentic!  I’m free!”

There we are, at our destination and not at our destination.  We’re building a bigger megaphone, a taller platform, a bolder sign.  It’s fun launching birds at monkeys, and I love an app which organizes everything from my pantry to the bodega of my dreams.  But that’s not us.

Our team will help us drown out all that App Store clamor and lift us above the booming crowd because, in doing so, they lift up themselves as well.  Lift up each other.  Gratitude – feeling it, knowing it, sharing it, “getting” it – is good for us, for all of us.  “We cannot hold a torch to light another’s path without brightening our own.”  Let’s turn the amp up to 11 and spread the word!

We’ve arrived…kind of.  The end of the trip is the beginning of our great journey.  And as we’re on the verge of becoming the world traveler we dreamed of, sharing smiles across the globe, the exhilaration of what’s to come rattles our teeth, with all of the jolty vibration of a jet engine and the stomach-flipping anticipation of a trip into uncharted territory.

*          *         *          *          *

For more about the Growing Gratitude app, visit our website & the preview of our app in iTunes.  We’re recruiting more gratitude pioneers to use our exciting new app and to help us spread the word – and their thankfulness.  “I’m going to change the way we say thank you! I’m fun, easy, personal, authentic!  I’m free!”

Welcome to the new world. I think we’re going to like it here.

I’ve been really excited to write this post.  After months of hinting around at what our big launch would be about, it’s a relief to be able to share our mission and how we will pursue it.  I’ve summed it up like this: Growing Gratitude helps make gratitude contagious because using our app to express your thankfulness is easy, personal, authentic and fun.  We’ve designed a smartphone app which will bring us all closer together and encourage users to “pass it on”.

Our motto, for now, is this: “Welcome to the new world.  I think we’re going to like it here.”  And the more I see people interact with the idea of Growing Gratitude, the more I do like it here.  Growing Gratitude was designed with the intention of bringing out the best in us as often as possible.  What could be better than that?

Most of you know that I am pursuing funding for the website and iOS/Android apps through IndieGoGo, a crowdfunding platform.  Our campaign launched 6 days ago and ends on Nov. 18.  So far, supporters have pledged almost $6,935, which is amazing!  It feels like walking on clouds, having people see what you see in an idea and support it, too.  I am beyond grateful for that.

I am also in this interesting spot of being very cognizant of the gap between where we are now in terms of funding and what we need to get Growing Gratitude onto solid ground for our app launch.  We’ve got a ways to go.

There are 3 key ways that you can contribute to our mission:

  1. Make a financial contribution at our Growing Gratitude IndieGoGo campaign. Even $5 is helpful and means a lot in terms of a show of  your support.
  2. Spread this link around as often as you can.  Research says that people need to see something 7 times before acting on it, so more = better in terms of inspiring action in potential supporters.  http://igg.me/p/262283?a=1608333
  3. Shoot a thank-you video on your phone and email it to me (at amy@growinggratitude.com).  I want people to understand the power of the thank-you video, and what better way to “get it” than to make our own video and view others’ videos?

Thank you in advance for your support.  Together we WILL do this.  Go gratitude!

Off We Go(Go)!

Big news!  It’s a momentous time in the life of Growing Gratitude, make-or-break time.  Our IndieGoGo campaign kicks off on Thursday.  Thursday!  What does that mean, you ask?  IndieGoGo is a crowdfunding website which hosts a variety of

Photo credit: bibendum84 / Foter / CC BY-SA

projects.  Folks visit the site either just perusing the projects that are out there right now  (I do this sometimes) or go there because they know of a specific project which is seeking funding this way. The projects set a goal, which represents the amount of money they need to complete the project.  People who are interested in and excited about their projects choose to contribute, meaning that they make a financial pledge to help the project reach their goal, and in exchange they receive perks based on the level of their contribution (like the public radio fundraising model).

I have contributed to several projects.  While putting the Growing Gratitude IndieGoGo campaign together, I’ve given a lot of thought to why I back certain projects. It usually comes down to this:  I back projects that, in their own particular way, make the world a better place to live. I certainly understand the situation of having an idea and wanting to see it through but not the funding to make it happen.  When that idea is something that has the potential to benefit people beyond ourselves, crowdfunding sites like IndieGoGo are ideal as they allow us to rally around the idea, stand together behind it and to become part of the team with our backing.

This is your chance to get the whole story on what I’ve been hinting around at all these months! Head on over to the Growing Gratitude campaign page on IndieGoGo this Thursday to see what we’re all about! Investigate, engage, and then please share the link to our campaign all over the place!

Welcome to the new world. I think we’re going to like it here.

Go Team Growing Gratitude!

Eight(y) is Enough

What’s more important – what we know or what we don’t know?

I’ve been asking myself this a lot lately as I delve into the preparations for the role of tech. startup founder, small business owner, solopreneur, mompreneur, crazy lady.

I think about the skills I have honed in my personal and professional lives, the leadership qualities I have developed and the complicated interpersonal situations that I have managed and – in many cases – facilitated a solution to.  I think about all of that, and I get so frustrated that I can’t be that person here yet.  Instead of walking into a room of wily middle schoolers and helping them to refocus and to keep their eye on the prize, I find myself reading every day to learn things from absolute scratch and doing things I never imagined could be part of this adventure, like shooting and editing a video.

Don’t get me wrong – I love to learn.  But it’s so strange to feel so incompetent at so many things out here, especially when all I would have to do to see the take-charge me is to walk back into my school.  I’m not on a circular course right now, and my path is taking me further and further away from my comfort zone.  They say that’s where the magic happens (unless you get lost in the woods!).

The upside to this month’s journey has been the meticulous whittling of Growing Gratitude’s mission.  The office floor is covered in shavings and sawdust, and only the very heart of it remains.  When you do eighty takes of a video (while I am naturally prone to exaggeration, take me at my word on this one), what does not ring perfectly true really stands out.  I knew what Growing Gratitude was; that part was easy.  The surprise to me was the time I needed to take to sort out the nuances of what it isn’t and will not be.  The time spent there has been invaluable.

Saw, carve, file, sand.  Smooth it over with my fingertips.  Only the very heart of it remains.

Best Laid Plans, Blueprints and Babies

Over the years, I’ve often heard people remark that change is hard. I’d smile and nod but think, “Not for me it isn’t. I love change.” What I meant by that is that I love movement, variety, experiences that challenge what I had previously held to be true and the sense of renewal that change often brings. That feeling of starting over and the heightened creativity that comes with it. I draw energy from traveling, moving houses, the chance to do something innovative and experimental at work.

But I’m getting to know the other side of change, the hard side, and I have to say it’s not my favorite. If this is what the change-is-hard folks have been talking about all this time, I so get it. Change is fun, exhilarating, refreshing. It can also be uncomfortable, unsettling and foundation-quaking.

I network online with small business owners, many of whom have kids—and some of whom who, like me, have kids who are not yet school-age who are at home with them. My assumption is that many of them had more traditional outside-the-home jobs before having kids and then made the decision like I did to forge a new normal for the sake of their family. I wonder, though, if they went through any periods of yuck. Working in a regular job with a fairly prescript definition of success has its advantages—one of them being that, when things don’t go well one day, reflecting about why and what to try the next day is straightforward. I am finding that to be so different out here on my own.

Maybe it’s the fact that I have about 15 irons in the fire and an 8 month old daredevil who is learning to crawl just to get closer to the flames. I felt like I was not accomplishing enough each day, so I started writing a more detailed daily agenda to help focus my work. The result of that has been that I am now acutely aware of the tasks I don’t get done, and they’re sitting there on a list for me the next day. Along with the next day’s, of course.

Building something from scratch is quite an experience. I feel like the architect and the builder sometimes, and I feel like I spend as much time redrawing the blueprints as I do creating something that will ultimately form part of my finished product. Our timeline is on point – the Kickstarter campaign is ever closer to its launch, and the app and website development are in progress (right now!), so I certainly have something to show for the time I’ve spent here.

But, in addition to working my way across the timeline of what I need to accomplish before our official Growing Gratitude app launch, there’s another long-term goal to add to the list: make my peace with the hollowy, heart-quickening feeling that this kind of endeavor – and the change it brings with it – inspires. Learn to recognize the feeling, call it, then minimize it and move on. We’ve got work to do.

The Stare-down

It’s been a big couple of weeks around here. People like to talk a lot about fear – why we feel it, where it comes from, how to stare it down without blinking first.

That’s the kind of couple of weeks it’s been (the trying-not-to-blink kind).

I’m not sure how other people work with this kind of thing, but when I have an important move to make, I don’t take a step if it doesn’t feel right.  I have this kind of hard-wired sense of inertia that does not let me go down a path to see if it’s the right one.  It’s like I already have a sense if it’s wrong and go no further.

So I had been working on the business plan with gusto, diving right into the world of mobile apps, trying to wrap my head around where the market was, is and will be, reading what I can to try to pick the brains of those who do what I will be doing.  And I’m proud to say I kind of love doing that.

But the more I read, the more I understand that, in entrepreneurship and in life, only a very limited amount of useful knowledge can come from the written word (and if you give reading the same weight as experience you truly don’t know what you don’t know).   Time to get out there and experiment, get my hands dirty, leap based on my best guess and then pick myself up when I belly flop and climb back up the ladder.  The reason I have not yet made more progress in this direction is a crucial one: $.

And therein lies the staring-fear-in-the-face-and-not-blinking, even raising my eyebrows and scowling a bit.   I’ve got to make a move.  That’s all there is to it.  And I’m finally in a place where I can.

If you’ve been following for a while, you may recall that I was considering crowd-funding as a possible source of my seed money.  I gave Kickstarter some serious thought and even worked on a pitch before dismissing the idea out of fear.  I was afraid that someone would steal my idea and make the project happen quicker themselves and I would be out of luck.  I still think that’s valid – some gutless person or company with no great ideas of their own may come along and think they can do what I am going to do and beat me to it.  That might still happen.  What I realized while having a mind-bending conversation with my entrepreneurial friend Jay is that, while someone else might have the resources to put something together more quickly than I can, it won’t ever be what I have envisioned.  It couldn’t be.  When you have an idea that has roots in your very heart, that’s not the kind of prototype that can be stolen like in a spy movie. Once I understood that I gave fear my “teacher look”, and it bowed and retreated.  Game over!

So, in the spirit of having funding that aligns with the goal of my project which is, in a nutshell, growing gratitude and community, I’m pursuing a Kickstarter campaign.  This project will ultimately depend not only on my belief in it but others’ as well – and the willingness of all of us to invest in our vision of what Growing Gratitude is to become.

The task at hand for me right now is to put all of this – plus details about Growing Gratitude – in the Kickstarter pitch to start to reach out to those with whom this idea will resonate.  I am hoping to enlist your support when we get there.  I get now that my feeling protective about this idea has less to do with wanting to be the all-powerful CEO of the Growing Gratitude empire and more about being a fierce momma who will do what it takes to keep her creation from being co-opted by those who don’t see its true worth.  What a relief to discover that business decisions can – and should – be managed like personal ones: in alignment with our values and with ever an eye on our goals.

First Gear

My few weeks after the last post have gone like this: get up and get the boys ready, take my 4-year old to preschool, play with my 7-month old until he goes down for a nap, then race upstairs and work on my business plan until he wakes up, whether that’s 45 minutes later or 2 hours and 45 minutes later. I do the same in the afternoon if he takes a second nap. And then again at night if I’ve still got my wits about me.

I have been poring over research and blogs and professional association lit about the smartphone app market, where it’s been and where it’s headed. Who risks how much and how often to try to get their ideas out there like I’m working on doing with mine. How people collaborate – or don’t – and where to meet investors if you don’t live in Silicon Valley. It’s all fascinating to me, in a real and unlikely way. And while some people breathe business because money is, for them, the endgame, I see it all as means to an end.

My mission in this whopper of an adventure is gratitude for the 21st century. And while I’m not going to go into many more business details just yet, I believe it’s the worthiest of causes.

As a parent, does anything irk you more than moments when your own child could not be less grateful? It gets me right in the gut. Really. I do not love the prompting – “What do you say?” – how that feels as a parent or how inauthentic it feels to the recipient of the obligatory thank you. And it’s not just a matter of those two words, of course. I think gratitude is a way to view the world, a humility we don’t see enough, a way of grounding ourselves which cuts right through the noise of this modern life. It’s so much more than just two words.

I love taking time like this to think about the root of everything I’m doing. While the need to help provide for my family is strong, as is not wanting to bellyflop in front of basically everyone I know, the electricity which powers reading tech blogs and typing like a madwoman in my 90 degree office is the understanding that I have the chance to put something into the world that it may not have had without me and something it will be better for. I say that with belief, not arrogance.

And belief in an idea is basically all I have right now (unless you count the bones of a business plan which will surely need revision once someone else takes a look). But if behind one door there was $50,000 and behind the other the steadfast belief I feel that this can and will work, the choice is easy. While the funding is what I need to move forward, it’s my belief in this project which will help me navigate when the funding falls into place. So I am frustrated and impatient…and grateful.

(Hey there, Mother of Mayhem reader. First of all, my most sincere thanks for taking the time to read my stuff. It really means a lot to me. If you’d like to follow along on the more public, business face of this adventure, I invite you to visit our Coming Soon page, our FB page, and to follow us on Twitter . Stay tuned for more rock-your-world gratitude adventures!)

Worst Case Scenario Dinner

Okay, folks. Things are decidedly closer to rocking and rolling.

I had a significant sit-down, worst-case-scenario talk with my husband about the potential (and probable) financial ramifications of quitting my job. We talked about how we could scale down to make it on less income, and I even prepped him for the possibility of turning off the cable (deep sigh from him) and my iPhone service (sniffle and forced brave face from me). I hadn’t thought to put that conversation on my list of things to do, so I wrote WORST CASE SCENARIO DINNER at the bottom and marked it off. Rock and roll.

But that’s not all the exciting stuff that’s happened this week. We have logo! Those crafty gents at Reactor Design Studio pitched me 4 logo ideas on Friday. I spent the weekend polling friends and family and walking by the printout of my favorite one posted on the fridge with wide eyes and squinty eyes and slowly and quickly and probably gained a few pounds as I stalked this prospective logo and opened the fridge to play it off. I needed to know that I felt comfortable with it, and I do. I made the final decision yesterday. It’s so awesome.

It feels amazing to finally have something tangible – albeit two-dimensional – to give this idea of mine some gravity on this planet. It’s not just all in my head anymore. Whoa. Wow. Yes.

Swan Dive? Belly Flop? Cannonball!

The title of this post is the closest I have ever come to articulating my personal philosophy about life-living. When making big changes, I think the swan dive is too much to wish for. Change can be wild and gritty. Change can be cumbersome, like that moving box that isn’t quite too heavy to carry by yourself but you just can’t get enough of grip on to move for more than a few steps. I don’t expect to handle great changes gracefully, especially as stress builds and instability seems to permeate everything. There will be some thunder. I will get wet on this ride.

I think belly flops are for people who can’t change position fast enough. You see the surface coming and know how badly it’s going to sting, how the sound of the pain will resonate and the way you’ll pause underwater, stunned for a moment, before limping up to the surface. All you had to do was swing your legs up to your chest or pitch forward, point your arms down and slice right into the water. Somehow being a participant in the spectacle of the thing makes it worthwhile for some – reminds me a bit of how some middle school kids rationalize their behavior, actually. If you have something you care about, like an exciting idea or, you know, your internal organs, why not position yourself better before jumping in?

I’ve always had a fear of heights. It was never severe enough to keep me from thinking I might do whatever it was, from traveling by zip-line in Girl Scouts at age 10 to riding the Zambezi Zinger roller coaster at Worlds of Fun at 15 to jumping off an insanely huge boulder into Lake Powell at age 20. I chickened out easily as often as I actually did these things or – even worse – stood for interminable lengths of time pondering the worst case scenario, listening to my heart pound, wishing I were anywhere else.

Even so, in terms of the all-out adventure of life-living, the cannonball is, for me, the finest option. It is bold and captivating. A skillful cannonball also involves the audience in the exhibition. I’m bored by the perfection of swan dives and wince even thinking about belly flops, but I could watch cannonballs all day long. Approach, anticipation, giant splash, laughter. Isn’t that how we want all of our greatest adventures to turn out in the end?

Now I need one of you to get a running start…and push me off the edge. I can take it from there.

(I promised myself after my last post that I would not bore y’all or myself with any more posts that centered on my internal struggle about whether to quit my job, how this new business idea is going to work, how to help support my family financially and be able to be present emotionally and physically, too. Easier said than done. The truth is that I feel no closer to accomplishing all that than when I wrote my first blog post. I am so much better at managing these decisions when it’s only my very own ass on the line. Knowing I can survive on rice and beans and Goodwill clothes and friendship and cheap wine has made many big decisions in my life so easy. Twelve years ago, I sat on the floor of my friend Rachel’s house, rolled a Magic 8 Ball in my palm, read the bubbly triangle of advice and resolved to move to Spain. On my own, no decision (or mistake) ever felt irreversible. But I often wonder how head-of-households justify these risks. My best justification for moving forward with the plan in my heart is to be the living example for my kids that IT CAN BE DONE, whatever IT turns out to be for any of us.)

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