Melissa Dinwiddie | Create the Impossible™ | Innovation Keynote Speaker & Consultant
Empower your team to innovate on demand. Melissa Dinwiddie helps tech leaders Create the Impossible™ through playful, interactive workshops and keynotes. Unlock breakthrough creativity today.
We interrupt this blog to bring you the following message:
Due to an overload of projects and an underload of time to do them in (plus a visit from a dear friend who lives several hours away), this week’s Weekly Review is taking a brief hiatus.
The Weekly Review will appear, it just may take a day or two. Thank you for your patience.
In the meantime, we bring you the following re-run for your entertainment:
We now return you to your regularly scheduled programming, already in progress.
With all the time I’ve been sinking into the Thriving Artists Project and the upcoming launch of 365 Days of Genius, it’s been awhile since I posted a video.
Soooo…
Here’s a little clip of me singing one of my audience favorites, a little-known version of All Of Me. Until recently, I always sang this song with a band, but I’ve been learning to play it solo on the ukulele.
It’s still a bit rough, but getting there! (And yes, I know, the sound leaves a lot to be desired… I’m still climbing that learning curve.)
Merry merry, and enjoy!
xo,
Melissa
Oh geez, Christmas is, like, on Saturday! And you’re not ready, are you?
If you’re ready to be rescued from your Christmas-gift woes and have no time for entertainment, scroll down right now to get to the point.
Hurry! Time’s a-wasting!
———-
For the rest of you, the organized ones with the already-checked-off gift lists (or the procrastinators and lazy people who just don’t have sense of urgency, god bless ’em), I didn’t want to leave you out, so here’s a little story:
Back in the day, my family used to make a huge deal about Christmas. Tree, ornaments, Advent calendars, stockings, presents.. the whole shebang.
(Yes, I’m Jewish, but that’s from my mom’s side; my dad comes from a line of Protestant Brits, Scots and Germans, so Santa Claus definitely came to our house.)
My dad used these crazy-bright lights to take home movies, so my memories of Christmas morning are of magic and sparkly brightness.
However, I think my issues with insomnia started during childhood Christmas season. I’d go to bed on Christmas Eve and be totally unable to sleep from excitement. (Hmmm… Could be a good thing to bring up in a co-counseling session…)
And as I got older, Christmas meant multiple trips to the shopping mall, scrambling (and lots of impatient waiting) to find parking, elbowing my way through the crowds to try and find the perfect (or face it, just adequate) gift for the last few people on the list.
Oh, the stress. You could cut it with a knife.
Eventually, we wised up and scaled back. Perhaps assisted by the fact that my parents got more involved at my synagogue, and Pop actually converted a few years back, much to the surprise of the rest of us.
None of us, though, is what anyone would call an “observant Jew.”
In fact, my mom was probably the most reluctant to “give up Christmas,” and today, my family does what I refer to as a “residual Christmas.”
The only tree is the stuffed one my mom made when I was in 6th grade, which sits on the piano, trimmed with ric-rac and little red glass balls. The more interesting ornaments we collected throughout the years adorn the household furniture in sprightly little clusters. (My mom really knows how to do the decorating-for-the-season thing.)
Our celebration has shrunk to a dinner potluck on the evening of the 25th (with probably more Jews in attendance than actual Christmas-celebrators) and the gift-giving has been pared down to the following: each person brings one gift, valued at not more than about $15. Said gift must be wrapped, and not tagged in any way, so as to be anonymous.
After we’ve stuffed ourselves on the potluck feast, we gather in a big circle and the “crazy-ass gift exchange game” commences.
Though it’s not technically accurate to call it a gift exchange. More like a battle to the death.
It works like this: everyone gets a number, and one at a time gets to either open a gift on the table, or steal an already opened gift from someone else. If your gift is stolen, you get to then either open a wrapped gift, or steal one from somebody else, and so on. Ad nauseum.
The rule is, the gift rests after the 3rd steal. (Or is it the 2nd steal? The rules are the subject of great debate every year, which frequently takes almost as much time as the game itself.)
This is no “white elephant” game, either; the goal here is to be the supplier of the gift that is stolen the most, and you can sense the pride of those who manage to tap that magical je ne sais quoi that makes for a much-fought-over gift.
Food and wine usually go over very well (especially when they involve chocolate), though one memorable year a mini-umbrella almost broke up some lifelong friendships.
You’d be amazed at the lengths people are willing to go to snag their coveted $15 gift of choice. Voices are raised. Alliances are formed and broken and formed again.
It’s the E-ticket of the season.
Your family probably celebrates Christmas in a much more “normal” manner, in which case you probably have a lot of people to get gifts for, and I know there’s somebody on your list that still has you stymied. (Maybe even yourself!)
Or maybe you’ve procrastinated, or you’re just a lazy-ass kinda person who couldn’t be bothered to fight your way through the crowds at the mall (or get your lazy butt in front of your computer screen back when Christmas delivery was a viable option).
Whatever. I pass no judgment.
I am, however, about to save your butt, lazy or not.
How?
–>(Procrastinators, lazy people, and anyone else interested, here’s where you stop scrolling and start reading again.)<–
What, you ask, is my extra-special Holiday Promo? It’s actually two different things:
An amazing half off all consulting services through the end of the year.
Special Thriving Artists Project full-year membership for less than what a basic 18-week membership will cost when I officially open the doors again in a few week.
Yep, that’s right! Here’s the deal:
Sign up for consulting for yourself or someone else by December 31, and you get half off my current prices.
That’s a half hour session of “Whip Your Website Into Shape” Consulting, or “Master the Internet” Technology Mentoring, or “Get Unstuck” Creative Consulting — or any combination thereof — for $85 only $42.50
Or a full hour session for $150 only $75
Or a package of four hour-long sessions for (egad, I can’t believe I’m doing this!) $500 only $250
Because I’m feeling extra generous. Because it’s the holiday season, and I’m so phenomenally happy with my life and how I’m thriving that I want to pass that feeling on to you, and help you thrive without something silly like money getting in the way.
Want more info? Check out my services page and click through for details on the particular consulting you’re interested in. Then come back here to select your service and sign up.
Unless you want to pay me full price, which is okay by me, but kinda silly when you don’t have to.
Remember, these special prices go away on January 1 (and no, you don’t have to actually schedule your session before Jan 1, I probably won’t have time anyway; you just have to pay for it.)
Oh, and I’ll even throw in a special downloadable gift certificate, which you can print out and give to your giftee (or email them if you’re really short on time)
Buy a membership — for yourself or someone else — in the Thriving Artists Project by December 24, and get a full year of access to all content for only $67.
When I open the doors to the public in a few weeks, this level of membership access will be over four times this price, so if you’re considering buying in, now’s the time. There will not be an offer like this again.
What’s included? You can get full details here, but in a nutshell:
Plus bonuses:
Plus:
When I open the doors to the public, a full-year membership in the Thriving Artists Project will start off at $297 (and probably go up from there), but if you buy by midnight on December 24, you get it all for $67.
Just sayin’.
Again, ’cause I’m in the holiday spirit. And I want to help you thrive without a silly thing like money getting in the way.
And also because I’m still in the process of creating content for the course, and I want you to be one of the guinea pigs in my test laboratory (mwah-ha-ha-ha!!) The initial group of Thriving Artists Project members actually has the power to set the course of the course (as it were) so it delivers exactly what you need to grow your own thriving creative business.
[Sorry, this offer is no longer available.]
Want more info? Click here to read more about the Thriving Artists Project, but be sure to come back, because this page right here is the only place where you’ll have access to this offer.
‘Nuff said. Happy Holidays!
So how’m I doing in my quest to re-invent my life, follow my evolving Blisses and create the life I really, really want?
Vacation? What’s that?
Apparently I had a mini-one last weekend, but also apparently the effects didn’t last long, because it was only when I glanced at last week’s review that I even remembered I’d had a mini vacation!
This Building-An-Internet-Empire thing is definitely not for sissies.
A comment from aerialista and Thriving Artists Project member Nicole just today on my very first post here on Living A Creative Life asked:
How have you been doing with the one piece of art per week?
That being the commitment I made in said post, back on March 22, 2010, to create a new piece of art for myself every week.
The truth is, I made the conscious decision to let that commitment slide while I get the Thriving Artists Project and 365 Days of Genius launched. Building an internet empire that will sustain me financially and creatively while making a difference for others is at the top of my priority list right now, even above making art.
In fact, as I said when Fawn asked whether my big projects are going to keep me from making my art, right now, this is my art.
I’ll admit though, while this is okay for the next few weeks, it is definitely not going to fly in the long run. My fingers are itching to get dirty with paint again.
So that’s the challenging stuff that’s coming up this week: over-busy-ness, massive deadlines to get my stuff launched, not enough time to do everything that needs doing, and definitely not time for other stuff that I really want to do. (Though I’m still managing a little uke time just about every day, and even debuted my ukulele version of All Of Me at last night’s solstice party. And yes, dear reader, I’ll make a YouTube video of it just for you sometime, though I’m not sure when…)
Thank goodness for my doctor-prescribed 90 minutes/day of exercycling, and the “immobile mobile office” set up downstairs with my parents’ exercycle and my Gentleman Friend’s PC laptop. Otherwise my butt would probably be permanently welded to my computer chair and morphing into computer chair potato-butt.
And here’s the thing: despite all the overwhelm and lack of time for anything but launch-related stuff, I’m loving my life!
I’m so grateful to Nicole for commenting on that very first post today, because although it stung a bit to see where I’ve fallen down on my commitments, it made me swell with pride to notice how far I’ve come and how much I’ve accomplished in the past 9 months.
I remember only too well the feeling of being where I was back on March 22nd. An online course, a community of blog readers and course members — these were the stuff of dreams and fantasies.
Now it’s almost December 22nd and just like the Velveteen Rabbit, I’ve made the dreams real.
And we’re still at the start. 2011 looks to be an exciting ride!
Onward ho!
PS – If you’re interested in getting in on the Thriving Artists Project when I open the doors again (very soon), you definitely want to sign up on the Advance Notice list, because before I open the doors to the public I’ll be giving my Advance Notice peeps first dibs and discount pricing. Just sayin’…
Sign up right here (or on the Thriving Artists Project website) if you’re even the tiniest bit interested:
It’s not often that you get to meet one of your heroes in real life.
Even less often, I’d imagine, that said hero, upon meeting you for the first time in person, says, “You’re awesome.”
(I’m awesome? Can you say “disarmingly charming”?)
But Chris Guillebeau, author of The Art of Nonconformity (the book and the blog), is known for being unconventional in most things, so no big surprise that he’s also unconventional in his approach to hero-dom.
The very term “hero” conjures up images of someone apart from the rest of us. Chris, though, doesn’t set himself apart, but instead endeavors to make every single one of his followers and fans feel special.
I daresay he does an awesome job at this, which is one reason why he’s my hero.
At the time of this writing, Chris is still in the middle of his Unconventional Book Tour, visiting 63 cities in stops in all 50 US states plus all Canadian provinces on a self-funded tour to spread his message of unconventional living and changing the world.
A week or two before his San Francisco meetup last Wednesday (where I got to meet him), I opened a hand-addressed envelope to find a notecard with the following message on the outside:
You=Awesome
And a hand-written note on the inside:
Melissa –
So glad you’re coming to #WDS! (And thanks for being so amazing.)
CG
How could I not be totally inspired and impressed? The guy just has class.
If you’ve read much on this blog, you’ll know that Chris Guillebeau is a big reason why I’m finally on the path I’m on, following my evolving Bliss(es) instead of settling for what Tara Sophia Mohr calls a B+ life.
Truthfully, any number of amazing people could have served the function of setting me off on my Right Path, but Chris landed on my radar at a time when I was primed to leap off a cliff. He provided a model of how that leap might actually enable me to fly, rather than face-planting, and a model was exactly what I needed in that moment.
A model of doing what you love, and making a good living.
A model of doing what you love, and making a difference.
A model of not settling for B+, but really living full-out.
Ten months later and I’m well on my way to doing all of the above, so of course I had to make it to the Unconventional Book Tour / Art of Nonconformity Road Show!
I invited my friend Fawn, who knew nothing of Chris Guillebeau or the Art of Nonconformity (except what she might have heard from me).
Her tweet from the event:
At the Rockit Room with @a_creative_life for a reading by someone who’s apparently a major blogger. He looks about 12! It’s v cute.
“Apparently a major blogger!” Ha! In my (admittedly narrow) view, that’s kind of like saying the Beatles are apparently a popular rock band.
Knowing there’d be a crowd, I insisted we get there early, and was able to snag front-row seats upstairs in the bar where the meetup was held. A quick glance around the room revealed some A-list bloggers (whom Fawn also knew nothing about) making me feel like a fan-girl extraordinaire.
Ah, what ten months in the blogosphere will do to a girl…
Leo Babauta of Zen Habits did the honors of introducing Chris, and except for the fact that we were all in jeans in a dark bar rather than black tie in a fancy Hollywood theater, I might as well have been a bit player in the audience of the Academy Awards.
Heroes! Heroes galore!
Then Chris took the mike and gave his “ADD-Friendly” 15-minute talk about the Art of Nonconformity, in which he addressed several of us in the audience by name, called a few other people up to speak, and referenced the importance of connecting with the amazing people in the room probably more times than he referenced his own work in bringing us together.
Did I mention he’s my hero?
And he’s right, too: the people that I met that night played as much a role in the specialness of the evening as meeting Chris did. I met three very cool women, Michelle, Sophia and Shanna, bloggers all, each of whom was excited to write a guest post for my site-in-progress, 365 Days of Genius.
Hot damn!
During his presentation Chris talked a bit about being an introvert, and how these kinds of gatherings have stretched him.
Yeah, I get that. Though many people have done their damnedest to argue with me on this point, the truth is I’m an introvert as well.
(Yes, it’s possible to be a “people person,” and a performer, and also be an introvert! If you don’t believe me, you just don’t know the true meaning of the word.)
So, at the end of Chris’s talk and my mini-schmooze, when I turned to face the specter of the very long line of folks waiting for Chris to autograph their books, my Inner Introvert told me in no uncertain terms that she was done for the night.
I felt kind of badly to miss out. I knew I could have dived into the crowd and met a whole slew of other amazing people, not to mention getting Chris’s signature in my copy of the book.
But the prospect of trying to penetrate the crowd was just beyond me at that moment. It’s something I’ve learned how to do, and even do effectively, but it drains the hell out of me when I’m fresh, and I was fully cooked.
So Fawn and I meandered off for a cup of tea at her place (while ogling shoe porn on her laptop) before I hit the road down the Peninsula to my own comfy bed.
I confess, part of the reason I was able to concede to my Inner Introvert’s needs over my Fan-Girl’s desires was that I knew I’d get more opportunities to rub shoulders with Chris and a passel of fascinating, unconventional people in the not-too-distant future.
Six months from now, in fact, when about 400 of us will converge on Portland, Oregon for the World Domination Summit.
I’ll pack my copy of The Art of Nonconformity in my suitcase, and maybe I’ll get an autograph then.
Or not. As Chris so wisely pointed out, it’s the interactions that matter most. The other stuff is just frosting.
Yeah. Heroes.
