I had the pleasure of getting out of the workshop briefly for a little human to human interaction the other day to drop some stuff off at my friend Stephanie's place for a photo shoot. We got to talking about some of the things she has in the works for the future. You have to understand, this is quite a list. Like a a lot of driven creatives Stephanie has a lot going on. Her two business (The Cleveland Flea and The Indie Foundry) keep her schedule full with planning events, organizing vendors, promoting the events, coming up with inspiration for new ideas, lots and lots of networking, and all the graphic design (and other ephemera) that going along with all of it. That is in addition to; traveling quite a bit, providing guidance to fledgling makers, being a cheerleader for anyone around her who is thinking about starting a business, being a Drum Major for many of us who have, running a pop up shop, and she just signed a lease on a new (or very old) building that she is going to run as a "creative clubhouse". One thing she said that stuck me at the time was, "Sometimes I have so much going on that I just have to focus on what I am doing this week."

That got me thinking about how I go about managing the precarious available-time/available-opportunity tightrope-walk that most of us in the creative community have to do every day. Sometimes it's really frustrating trying to figure out what to do with your day when a bunch of good opportunities are pulling you in several different directions.  What I have found helps me is a little system based around two simple questions, "What can I do to make money today?" and "What could I do to make money tomorrow?"

Make money today always takes priority. After all, today is what really counts. I don't want to look back at my life and think "Man, I had some really great ideas for the future".  So when I'm planning out my day I ask myself what opportunities are available today. For example: designing new things is fun. It's exciting to turn the great ideas in my head into physical things in my hands. Designing is important. I might come up with the next big thing and make it big. Who knows? But will designing a new product actually make me any money today. I already have plenty of things (maybe less glamorous) that I could be taking advantage of. I already have a strong product line. Am I making the most of it? How could I use what I've got right now to make a better living today. Could I try to get my products into more stores? Could I be working on developing traffic to my website? Would some better photographs lead to more sales? Could I build up my inventory so that I'll be ready when those orders come in?

This helps because it frees me from getting distracted by opportunities I might not be ready for. Laying a strong ground work for today will lead me to those plans for the future anyway. Another example: take that amazing thing I wanted to design in the previous paragraph. Had I focused on what I could do first (get in more stores, develop web traffic, take better photos) when I do finally develop that new product I'll be able to offer it to a much wider audience in a stronger way.

I'm not saying abandon the future. I have a giant notebook called "Make money tomorrow" that has all the ideas I wanted to pursue but didn't think I was ready for. When I'm ready to take the next step I have a great resource to draw from. It actually feels kind of liberating to take a really good idea that I might not have time for , write it down, and file it away, knowing that it will be there when I am ready for it.

Carpe diem, focus on one week at a time, make money today, call it what you want. The idea is always the same. The best course of action is frequently to capitalize on what you have right now and deal with the future tomorrow.

If  you ever want to figure out if you have a capable bartender there is a simple trick. Pick the busiest night of the week. Sit down at the bar and look at all the bartenders. The bartender with their head up, talking to people while they work, is the one with their act together.  The one with their head down, focusing on the immediate task at hand, is deep in the weeds.

I used to be the guy in the weeds. I used to hear it from my boss all the time, "You gotta keep your head up dude!"

I'd think, "Sure, I 'll keep my head up. Right after I make this next drink." (actually I was usually thinking "Holy crap! Please don't fire me!)

Then I'd go rushing around behind the bar, eyes set firmly on the drink before me. Past all the people who were desperately trying to get my attention, and I'd get deeper and deeper into the weeds.

I never understood it until I started training people. When it got busy, and the pressure was on, I'd see the new guy storming around with his eyes on the floor, shutting out everything else except what he need to do right then. 

There is something about stress and being rushed that gives people tunnel vision. You get fixated on the immediate crisis and everything else slips out of focus. If you are under continual stress (like the kind you get when starting a business) it's really easy to let the world around slip by while you over-focus on what will ultimately be an insignificant detail.  This kind of tunnel vision is dangerous because it's sneaky.

A little under a year into launching my business and I've been fairly successful. I've been paying the bills. Revenue is increasing. I'm getting a little recognition and repeat business. I quit my day job and didn't die! Considering that my entire business plan was to quit my day job and not die, I should have been  ecstatic. For some reason I have been  getting increasingly dissatisfied. The elation of being self employed still seems to be out of reach.

I chalk up part of this to a healthy entrepreneurial spirit. Enough should never be enough and any good entrepreneur should always be reaching for loftier goals.  There is something more than just that though. Then it hit me. I've been keeping my head down.

I've been so focused on making sure the bills get paid that I haven't been thinking about where I'm going. Right now I'm planning out my holiday schedule and drawing up new designs. It seems like a lot of progress but really all my planning ends in January. It's hard to be satisfied with a master plan that reads "Pay bills until January".

So I got out a sheet of paper and started to write out a five year plan. Not in the sense of what strategy I'd like for my business to follow in the next five years, but where I'd like to be five years from now. I wrote down what was important and how I thought I could get there.

I tried to avoid things like "make more money" and tried to focus on how I would like my life to look.  I wrote down things like, have plenty of family time, travel more, gain a greater sense of security, make enough extra income to pay someone else to mow the lawn (it was seriously hot that day and that lawn really needed mowing).

Once I spent a little time figuring out the direction I wanted to take my life things seemed to make a lot more sense. I started to be able to come up with post-January ambitions. I began to see how my holiday schedule was just one little part of a greater puzzle. That persistent drive came back.

So I've decided to make this a consistent part of my business planning. Every few months I plan on sitting down and going over my previous goals and then spend some serious time doing a little day dreaming.

I've decided to start a campaign to reclaim the meaning of the word "value".  It is an idea that we all understand, but is very difficult to define. I think this is why it has been so easy to co-opt.  I consider the meaning of the word value to mean something's intrinsic worth relative to the  demand of obtaining, or maintaining, that thing. 

A personal belief that one maintains despite the pressures of the outside world. A work of art that has inspired countless people and been preserved through centuries. A cast iron skillet bought at a hardware store that gets better and better, but only if you take care of it. A grandfather's journal from World War II which sailed across oceans, was sheltered from bombs and bullets, and carried through all the years of his life.  These are things of value.

Value does not mean a cheap deal. I'm tired of seeing things that are labeled "value brand", "great value", "value sized". When you begin to think about value in terms of its real meaning then you have to question where the deal really is. If you are willing to sacrifice next to nothing for something then it must be worth next to nothing. So is it really such a great deal to get a great price on something that is nearly worthless. To say it in another way, "value is a function of hard work and ingenuity rather than the product of financial acrobatics, clever arbitrage or casino capitalism." (from the Rustbelt Almanac)

Nor is value created by paying a high price. Does a plain white t shirt have a greater value just because it cost $120 (sorry Kanye)? Is a high-end sports car valuable? To a banker? To a single dad? To a carpenter? Value is not a function of cost alone but a reflection of cost versus intrinsic worth. 

Fads will come and go. Sticker shock and impulse-buys will get paid-off or used up. Many things will quickly pass through our lives, but it is the things of value that stick with us. Yes, you might have to work for them. Old leather boots need saddle soap and conditioning. A classic Mustang is going to spend some time on blocks getting fixed. An old cookbook has to be handled with kid gloves and protected from stains. Personal convictions will have to be reenforced and rallied when the tide is contrary. Trends will wane,  bills will be paid-off, what is hot today will fizzle tomorrow, and cheap deals will be quickly used up and forgotten. Things of value are those which we endeavor to carry with us. When the price is paid, it is value that remains.

I try to keep this idea a constant in my life. When I'm designing something I always try to ask myself if I'm responding to a trend or will this be something that will still be relevant decades from now. Not only does this apply to the things I produce but also in the way I live. I try to think not only in terms of "are the sacrifices I make equal to the life I am living", but also "am I living a life equal to the sacrifices that I am making for it". It is through this filter that I am able to figure out how to invest myself in the things that are really of value to me and avoid the things that seemed really important at the time but weren't. What are the things that you value?

It happened. I finally broke down and bought a real digital camera. While this might not be so significant to a lot of people this is a big deal for me. Photography is my lost love. I've been taking pictures since I was thirteen. I have a degree in photography. I also haven't had a functioning camera in almost ten years. I'm sure you are wondering what kind of person goes to school for photography and then puts down the camera when they graduate? Well, I am.

I could give you a bunch of excuses: I had bills to pay, not enough time, the economy fell apart and no one wanted to buy art. That is not the point of all this. The point isn't even that I'm going to start taking pictures again. The point is why.

When I started this business I knew I had a wide array of skills that I was hoping would some how translate into income. I was good at working with my hands.  Leather work was my focus at the time. So leather work is what I started with. Once I launched my business I began to realize that I had a lot more skills I could be taking advantage of.  Skills I never really thought about until I needed them. My background in photography has allowed me to not only take quality photographs of my work (I can not stress how important a good photograph is when marketing on the internet. Your product is only as good as what people can see on their screens after all.) but to write a story about who I am with my images. No one wants to read about how hard my day was. A picture, taken from my point of view (feet up, beer in hand, as the sun is setting) instantly conveys a message and lets the viewer stand in my shoes for just a minute.

Then I started to realize that I had a lot of other skills that were underutilized. My years spent as a bartender helps me to engage just about anyone I meet. Talking to strangers is hard, but because of my years in the service industry I do it without a second thought. I could even argue that my high school English classes are finally paying off. Having been drilled over and over again on how to express myself clearly (Thanks, Mrs. Morgan) I am able to write in an intelligible manner.

My point is that when I dreamed up this job it was one dimensional: Leather worker.  In reality it is more like:  Leather Worker (photography and bar tending experience required. Must also have a working knowledge of basic construction, inventory management, journalism, and bad jokes). So what skills do you have that you could be taking better advantage of? Did you really like statistics in school? Did you take dance classes? Are you a horse whisperer? Maybe it is time to take inventory and make sure you are taking advantage off all of your assets, not just the ones in front of you. After all, if your business reflects who you are as a person shouldn't it reflect all that you are capable of?

I think one of the hardest things about being self-employed is learning how to be my own boss. It is a tricky thing but not in the way I thought it would be. You see, I was a notoriously lazy kid, and I remember thinking that I would never be able to go into business for myself. I was a slacker and would never get anything done. Strangely the opposite is true.

I find my self filling up every free moment I have. If I'm not working, I'm thinking about work. When I am working, I'm thinking about what other work I need to be doing. I fall asleep worrying about what needs to be done tomorrow and I get up worrying about getting enough done in the time I have. The problem is that milestones aren't reached every day. Like every other job in the world, most days are filled with getting by.

Somewhere along the line I've turned into a jerk of a boss. I'm the kind of guy that wants people to come in on the weekends, watches what time they get to their desks, and judges those who aren't staying late. I became my own boss so I wouldn't have to deal with jerks like me.

I never thought that I would have trouble learning when to not work. At some point I have to flip the switch and say, "Ok, I'm done for today." and leave the job behind. I've found it helps to make a routine change. When the day is over I change out of my work clothes (even if it is from one pair t-shirt and jeans to a different pair of t-shirt and jeans). I'll get out of the house, get some exercise, cook dinner, have a cocktail, or find a happy hour. I've even thought about figuring out a way to clock out. The import part is to get some distance, leave it all behind, and give yourself a chance to get some perspective for tomorrow.

When you are your own boss, at some point you have to decide what kind of boss you want to be. I don't know about you, but I'd like to be the kind of guy I would want to work for.

I read a really interesting article today that I think is worth talking about. The subject was "overcoming learning plateaus".

The general idea behind a learning plateau is this:  skill and knowledge are gained in short bursts and the rest (most) of the time you are either not improving or getting worse. This is something I never knew existed. Or at least I never knew existed for other people.  As a working creative person this system can be devastating. What you create intimately reflects who you are as a person. When I sit down to make the same wallet I've made countless times before and I can't even get the easy parts to come out right, what does that say about me. Am I doomed to failure?

The answer is that I've hit a plateau. The part I always seem to forget is the week before when I sat down and dreamed up a new design in fifteen minutes that I was really happy with, or the morning I somehow accomplished a day's worth of work before lunch. On those days I think  "Man, I'm so great. Everything is just falling into place. It's like destiny is showing me the path." Then a week later I'll spend a morning screwing up basic measurements and decide that I'm going to have to live on the street. 

I think plateaus are important to creative people. They keep you humble and give you time to look back on your progress so far. The solution I've come up with is to learn to accept them. All you can really do is keep slogging on anyway. You just have to slow down and keep trying to climb up and over. Eventually you'll be on your way to greater heights and wondering what the problem was.

I'd love to hear other peoples thoughts on this. The original article can be found here for your perusal.