self promotion

I'm going to do it, y'all. I'm going to send out an e-newsletter all about me. Is that totally gross? Is everyone going to hate me? I put this task off for a long, long time. I do not want to market myself. I do not want to end up in your spam folder.

Most self-employed people that I talk to agree that self promotion is really, really hard. I guess there are some people who share one of my professions (the real estate one) for whom this comes naturally, but for most of us, it's awkward and uncomfortable and we really, really don't want to bother you.

I clearly care a lot what you think about me. I do not want to be your cheesy ex-co-worker or high school friend who sends you junk mail all the time. On the other hand, I'm self employed. I create my own work, and I'm my own marketing team. I just have to do it.

I really don't like the word market. How about inform? I'm doing stuff and I want people to know about it. I'm teaching a class outside of square one. I have a workshop coming up. I'm writing this blog. I'm selling houses. If I don't tell people what I'm doing, I have no business, no work, no reason to blog, or to show up for my classes, or to plan workshops, etc., etc. I'll have to go get a real job.

So that's what I've been doing the last couple of days. Organizing contacts. Finding emails. Of course, gmail stores every single email address I've ever communicated with, so my list could be enormous. Then there's facebook and all these people I haven't spoken to in years. It's really hard to decide who to put on the list. I was braver than I thought I would be. If I know you, and I could find your email, you're probably on my list.

Why is it so hard to promote ourselves? I don't have any problem promoting square one. The studio is a few steps removed from me and my own little, fragile ego. If you don't like square one or you remove yourself from the list, there's nothing to take personally. Well, actually, I take it a little personally. But I try to remember that there are a lot of things I don't know. Maybe you moved away. Maybe you're just a little grumpy. Maybe you're getting the email at two addresses. Overall, very few people unsubscribe but a lot of people (way more than half) just don't open the email.

But it will be really different if you don't like me and you unsubscribe from my personal list. If you're not that interested, will you just open the email for one second so it shows it was opened and then delete it? Please? It's really the kind thing to do.

So look for it. You'll probably get it by Friday if you're on the list. If you're not on my list and you want to be, email me. There's nothing I'd love more than to have your permission to send you impersonal emails about my professional life. Well, except maybe getting a personal email in response.

Please be kind. I'll try really hard to make the emails entertaining, and I'll send them infrequently. I promise. And if you write me back, I'll write you back. I want to know what you're doing too. Put me on your list.

data

So the intent of this blog really is to talk about running and opening a small business. Sometimes I get a little off track...

Since the beginning of March, I've had this new software that keeps track of students and classes and revenue. It will turn the data all different kinds of ways, and for the first time, I have a really clear picture of how the business is doing. This is a blessing and a curse.

If there is one big emotional lesson that small business owners get, it is a lesson in letting go. When I have really big days and people are buying all kinds of stuff, class packs and mats and tee shirts, I get really happy and excited and feel successful. Then there are other days, where nobody buys anything, very little revenue comes in, and I get fearful and worried and think that it will always be like that.

Looking at data on a day-by-day basis is impossible not to do, but really not that useful. What's really important are the trends. The good news for square one is that our numbers are up. From December to January, we grew 30%. This is totally normal for the yoga business as people are home from the holidays full of New Year's resolutions. The really great news is that March is shaping up to be 40% bigger than February, and now is the time when we should be seeing a drop from the New Year's boom. The move was very good for us.

I have goals for the studio. I have always had goals for the studio, but it was really hard to know how I was doing because I didn't have easy access to the numbers. If we have 40% growth again next month, we will just about reach these initial goals. We will still have room to grow. According to my software, we are only operating at about 16% capacity right now. But once the initial goals are met, the studio will be completely healthy (and so will my personal finances). It may not happen in one month, but there's nothing wrong with setting the bar high. The tricky part is that then I have to let go of it. I have to keep doing my job in the best way I can all the while understanding that the results are completely out of my hands. It's really hard and I'm not that good at it.

But I do love having all of this data at my fingertips. It's so much fun to look at, especially since we're growing so quickly. The trick is to also be okay when the growth slows. That's when I will definitely need the yoga.

do what's hard

I had a weird day today. It started off strong. I went to my favorite yoga class in the city and had brunch with friends afterwards. Then I went home and got into bed. I stayed there until late in the afternoon. I was exhausted.

I went to a chiropractor yesterday. (Dr. Kacie Flegal at her new business Elements of Being, just to make the plug. She's great.) We talked about how I get lightheaded really easily. It happens a lot in my asana practice. I've come close to fainting a few times. I'm also a complete sugar junkie. I have intense cravings for sweets, and I almost always give in. She put it all together for me. After the sugar spikes come the falls. It doesn't help that I don't drink enough water. The result is that my blood sugar is low and my blood volume is low, so I come out of prasarita worried that I might fall over. It's been like that so long, it doesn't even seem unusual anymore.

There have been these moments since I began practicing yoga when I have had flashes that what I consider normal and okay is actually completely contrary to what I believe in. I realized at a certain point, at the end of a certain summer after a certain number of years of daily drinking and lots of coke snorting, that I was not okay unless I was ingesting chemicals. I went to a yoga class the next day, and it became clear by the end of the class that I just had to stop, that I wouldn't be free until I did. So I stopped. (The stopping wasn't quite as easy as I make it sound here, but the realization was sharp and clear.) It happened again around eating meat. I was having chicken at some chain restaurant after a hike and all I could think about was how that very chicken that I was eating suffered immensely so that I could eat it. I could not stop picturing this living, feeling creature in a tiny cage where it could not move and where it had to wait its whole life, painfully, to die. Why would I eat that? Why would I go anywhere near having anything to do with that? In both cases, I just could not hide from the truth anymore. Yoga brings clarity.

Today was the first day in a long time that I didn't have any chocolate. No pastries, no cookies, no cake. Most people probably have lots of days like that, but I really can't remember the last time I have. No refined sugar in my blood (or very little), and I feel really, really tired. And I have a headache. I've been kind of sad and grumpy most of the day. But I don't want to see stars when I do yoga. I want my body to have a steady stream of the nutrients that it needs. And I don't want to be beholden to sweets. It's a health thing. It's also a freedom thing.

I had a conversation with a student tonight about headstand. He really likes tripod, and I feel pretty strongly that tripod's okay in certain circumstances, like coming into from crow or prasarita, but that good old, simple, steady sirsasana is the headstand of choice for our regular practice. Tripod is flashy and for fun, not for the serious focus work of headstand. He clearly disagreed, and we went back and forth about it for awhile. He finally said that traditional headstand is much harder for him, so he should be practicing that more.

Bravo, I thought. Exactly. We do what's easy and we get into these grooves, these mindsets, these habits, these samskaras. In my experience, they are nearly impossible to break by sheer will. If we are even so lucky as to notice them. Something has to open. Yoga has provided me with all of those openings. And then once it's open, the choice is so clear, so obvious. I only have to decide once. There's no struggle, even when it's uncomfortable.

No more daily (or twice daily) pastry. It's fucking with my practice. So obvious.

dukkha

After I wrote the last post about being angry, a few interesting things happened. One person who's angry at me used the blog as an opportunity to express his anger at me publicly. He did it on Facebook. He deleted the comment really quickly, but I got to see it and maybe a few other people did too. When you are vulnerable in public, some people will use it as an opportunity to attack you. My mother warned me that would happen.

Another thing that happened is that several people told me I hadn't done anything wrong. Possibly. I do give myself a hard time and I analyze my behavior to death. I'll resist the urge to quote Rumi (such a cliched yoga teacher thing to do), but to paraphrase: there is no right or wrong, dummy. What it's about for me is that I don't want my life to be a reaction. What I did with the landlady, evil bitch that she is, was a reaction. If I had noticed that anger arise in me, mulled it over and decided to tell her that she was crazy and a liar, it would have been different. I want to decide, but what happened was that I was overcome with an emotion that I reacted to. I did not decide.

The last interesting thing that happened after the blog entry is that people told me about how they're frustrated and angry and about how they have acted in ways (usually when no one's looking) that they regret and that are harmful. And I was reminded. We are all like that. We are all like that. We are all like that. The person who lashed out at me, me, the landlord, my friends, probably you.

I listen to Pema Chodron CDs when I drive sometimes. Six discs later, and this is basically what she says: we are all suffering. It's the first of the Four Noble Truths in Buddhism. Dukkha. It's frustration, irritation, dissatisfaction, resentment, and we all feel it. When I'm feeling it, I think I'm the only one. I feel very alone. What Pema Chodron says though is that actually, lots and lots of people are feeling it at that very moment that I am experiencing it. She suggests breathing in the feeling. Breathe it in for you and for all the people in the world who are suffering as you are. Acknowledge them. Acknowledge that you are not alone. Then breathe out the antidote. Breathe it out for you and breathe it out for everyone who is suffering as you are.

I've been doing this for a little while (at least a week). What's been really interesting to me is that no matter what it is that I'm breathing in, whether it's frustration or anger or fear or anxiety, the antidote on the out breath always feels exactly the same. It's calm and ease in the knowledge that everything is exactly how it is supposed to be.

Exactly how it is supposed to be. The Buddhists had it right. We are all suffering. When I realize that, I have the exquisite experience of finding it impossible to be angry. Like the person who lashed out at me after the last blog. I admit that I had a flash of anger and of hurt feelings, but then I realized how perfect it is, really. He was doing exactly what I had done. We are exactly alike. What's there to be mad about?

That's rare. In fact, it's only happened once. I can't even recapture the feeling now, but there was this moment when I saw us all as hurt and vulnerable and imperfect and it was the most beautiful thing. I think most, maybe even all, of us are trying to be better and act better and do better. There's this sweetness there, even when we do it so imperfectly. Especially because we do it imperfectly. It's so human, so frail, so real, so perfect, actually. It is exactly how it is supposed to be.

angry!

Today I ended my relationship with the owner of the old space. It was not civil. I accepted a check for less than is legally owed to me from the deposit. I almost didn't do it. I handed the check back to her at one point when she asked me to sign away my rights to the money.

We were standing on the street outside the old space. I saw that she had taken down the sign on the door that told customers we had moved. The place is still vacant, so there is no reason for that action other than pure meanness. I knew, for my own sanity, that I had to be done with her. The few hundred dollars were not worth fighting for. I took the check, signed the paper and said, "I'm only doing this so that I never have to deal with you again. You're a lying, crazy...." I threw the paper and her pen on the ground, turned and walked away.

I'm fairly certain that's not what Buddha would do. I'm going to reveal just how unspiritual I really am. I was so overcome with anger that the words came out of my mouth with absolutely no thought, no pause, no consideration. It was as though I had no choice.

I've heard that meditation will give us that pause, but I'm not meditating regularly right now. It gets worse, because even in hindsight I can't think of a better way to handle it. Doesn't she need to know what a crazy, lying bitch she is? Wasn't it my job to tell her?

Can someone tell me some better, calmer, more centered way to handle it?

I suffered a lot over that woman. She lied many times in attempts (sometimes successful) to get more money out of me. She refused to turn down the music in the restaurant she owned next door and the walls between us were very, very thin. Sometimes I couldn't help but notice that it would actually get loud when class started and quiet when class ended. I wondered (insanely, I hope) if she was intentionally trying to ruin my business.

I had two conversations with two different friends today who are having call-the-lawyer type disputes with their business partners. I considered taking on a partner for about a week once. We were completely incompatible, and I'm grateful that I saw that early. But sometimes it's not so obvious.

Who we do business with matters. A lot. Business partners especially. It's a marriage. But landlords too. I never liked her, and I should have let that be a warning. My current landlord is a big corporation. As bad as that sounds to our left-leaning ears, our interactions are always professional, civil, legal.

I also clearly have some work to do with anger. I am self-righteous, and I am a know-it-all. I saw it in all its glory this morning. Can yoga soften that? Will yoga soften that? I sense that asana helps, but that the real antidote is found in sitting practice. Or maybe I'll just hold onto it for a little while longer. Telling that woman off was the most satisfying thing I've done in a long, long time.

don't force it

My friend, Matthew, is teaching himself to jump forward from down dog into crow. It's a really, really difficult thing to do that requires having control of your body in handstand enough to bring your knees into your armpits and balance there on your hands.

I'm trying to learn to jump from crow to chaturanga, a much more basic move. I've had enough yoga teachers tell me, and I can feel in my own body, that I am strong enough to do it. I'm just scared. When I'm in crow, my legs are glued to my upper arms and no matter how much I think about shooting my legs back, I can 't get my brain to command the movement.

So I found a video online where a teacher goes through the steps for both jumping out of and into crow. I sent it along to Matthew. The teacher said several times, "don't force it," which I love because it means I can hang out in the comfort and safety of my little crow pose. There's nothing wrong with that, but am I maybe, just a little, postponing my growth?

Matthew pointed out that there is a fine line between forcing (which most of us agree we don't want to do) and trying really hard.

I'll give my crow a break here because arm balances and inversions are really difficult poses for me (it took me three years of trying really hard just to kick into handstand), and whether I jump back to chaturanga is ultimately not that important. It will come.

But what about off the mat?

I'm going to talk about real estate. From the time I got my license in early December until a couple weeks ago, I was working really, really hard at it. I wrote a couple of offers that didn't get accepted. I spent many, many hours working for clients who decided not to buy. I'm not complaining. That's the job, but I'm feeling like it would be just a tad easier if I were really meant to be doing that work.

When I'm working on the studio, things fall into place magically. My days pass, and I feel useful and rewarded. I work hard and put in long hours, but the work never feels hard. It's engaging and fun, and I get immediate feedback both when I do things well and when I fuck things up.

I'm not giving up my real estate license, but I am taking it easy. Maybe a burst of energy will come that will shoot my legs back into chaturanga. Maybe a burst of energy will come and I'll start marketing myself and finding new clients. In both cases, I'm just going to wait for it.

That's probably not in the real estate success manuals. I don't care. If I'm supposed to be doing it, there's no forcing. Legwork, yes. Pushing, striving, grasping, no. It's not worth the mental effort and energy, even if I do get the client or deal or whatever it is. Even if I jump back to chaturanga in the middle of class with everyone watching. I will not have enjoyed the process. I will have wasted my time, because we all know (I hope) that earning more money or getting a new yoga pose only makes us happy for fleeting, quick little moment. Enjoying what we do keeps us happy in the long term.

So how does one know if she's forcing or just working hard? That's the tricky part. God knows I've had a lot of bad ideas that seemed inspired at the time. I'm starting to be able to discern, just a tiny little bit, the difference in how they feel. Forcing feels tight and constricted and results-oriented. Strong effort feels engaging and expansive and is process-oriented.

May I stay in the latter.

self-supporting

It's been too long since writing. A lot has happened. We had the opening party, which everyone seems to agree was a success. The class was at absolute capacity. We were mat-to-mat and there was not even room for any teachers to take class. The party afterwards went well. Jennifer Meek danced (amazing), Sarah Jenness and her husband, David, fire danced (beautiful, ethereal) and Katie Colver's band Winnie Byrd played a set. They were great. I can't wait to have them back in the studio for another show.

Meanwhile, my bank account has dwindled to the triple digits. With no real estate clients anywhere near closing, much less in contract, there is no income in sight for me other than what square one can pay me.

Which isn't much. Square One has only recently even been able to pay me for the classes that I teach. I have never been compensated for running the place. The reality is that the money goes into, not out of, most businesses for at least the first year. It's doing better now. I was able to open the second location without incurring any more debt, and none of my personal money has gone into the studio for several months, which is obviously a good thing since I don't have any.

It's wonderful that so many people love square one and that we had a great party, but ultimately for it to work I've got to be able to pay my rent and the debit card has to go through when I buy the dog food. So I've been really busy. I need to do more thorough numbers-running, but at a glance, it seems that if we can get 50% more paying people through the door, square one can start paying me a living wage.

That feels doable. With the move, we've gotten rid of a lot of the problems that meant people didn't return. We have a good heater now. The studio is quiet and spacious. It's not on State Highway 123. The passers-by don't gawk at students through the window as though yoga were the most foreign and bizarre thing they'd ever seen. (It happened. A lot.) There were always good reasons to come back to square one, but there were also lots of reasons not to come back. I don't think that's the case anymore.

With all my heart and time and energy, I'm making sure that the experience for the students is ideal. I've bought new software that helps me keep track of the money a little better. We were losing money because our record keeping system wasn't accurate. That's not going to happen anymore. The software also makes it easier for people to spend money online, and we're seeing more revenue come from the website now. The software is expensive, but I think using it is one of the best decisions I've made about the business. Second, of course, to the move.

And I'm marketing. Like crazy. Along with getting the website professionally done, I'm putting postcards out like I did in the early days. I'm giving away lots of free class cards for new students. I'm urging my teachers to help me with this. We've got to get them in the door. I'm pretty sure once we do our retention rates will be really good. For the first time ever, all of the elements are in place.

50% more? It's happening. Our numbers are up slightly and people are investing in class cards and memberships. But will it happen quickly enough that I can pay all my personal bills on time and easily? I don't know, but it's definitely possible.

I often wonder why everyone doesn't quit their day jobs and start businesses. Then everyone can be like me and bring their dogs to work and roll in at ten and report to no one. But I realize today that it's not for everyone. The biggest question I would ask someone considering self-employment is: how comfortable are you with financial insecurity? One day you'll be like me, looking at an very low bank balance knowing that it's only you and your hard work and good intentions and good luck that are going make it comfortable again. Jobs = security. Sort of. The reality is that life is uncertain, but we all have different tolerances for how much we can take. I don't want a job, but I can see why one might.