Some things, you just can’t do yourself

Our business story needs updating, so we’re taking our own medicine. The world has shifted and we’ve evolved, but our story hasn’t. We’re prepared to do the work, knowledgable and experienced. But just like an eye can’t turn around and look at itself, there are gaps in our vision too. Now, we’re remembering what we already knew: some things, you just can’t do yourself.

Sharon

Give yourself a good haircut is one of them. Write your own business story is another. Even though we’re business storytellers, we’ve got stuck when it comes to articulating our own. 

So to get ourselves out of the introspection quagmire we’ve asked for help, and we’re getting that invaluable outside-in perspective from friend and collaborator Sonja Nisson. 

Going through the process that we go through with our clients is quite eye opening. I’d forgotten how vulnerable it makes you feel, when you lay all your hopes, fears, aspirations, and ideas out in front of somebody else and they play back what they’ve heard.

Or when you hand over the details of your favourite clients to be interviewed and hope for the best. I know from experience how useful these calls are. I’ve done hundreds of them myself over the years. They’re crucial to creating messaging that resonates with its target audience. You can’t work out your positioning or understand your unique value without putting the client’s experience of working with you centre stage. But still, right now, it’s hard to think beyond ‘Oh God, I bet they think I’m an idiot.’ (Okay, maybe that’s just me.)

Just now we’re wrestling with a series of exactly the kind of questions we ask our clients – questions around the kind of work we most enjoy and the places where we feel we can make the most impact – and they’re hard to answer. Or they’re hard to answer succinctly. There’s a lot to say, but it feels rambling and miles away from the kind of clear messaging we need. 

I know from client projects that this kind of long form, thinking out loud, writing is a crucial part of the process. You can’t leap straight from a standing start to perfectly formed positioning statements. You have to drag everything out into the open and shine a light on it. You need to go down the rabbit holes to see if they lead  anywhere fruitful. You need to turn over the stones to see what’s under them. Yet, even though I know this, it still feels unsettling.

And because it feels unsettling, the temptation is to procrastinate. Having Sonja give us deadlines makes sure the work gets done. It gives us the permission to do it and the push to do it now.  

Andy

These days there are two statements that I find myself wanting to say more, and resisting far less. The first is ‘I don’t know’. The culture I grew up in didn’t exactly love that one. The other is ‘I could do with some help’. 

I’m not talking about ‘I don’t know’ in the sense of ‘I can’t be bothered’ or ‘I think I disagree with you, but I’m trying not to offend’.  My ‘I don’t know’ is the one you give when you genuinely don’t have an answer you could stand behind. Or any answer at all. 

Here’s how my ‘I don’t know goes’. Firstly, I’ll feel a little panicked by the absence of an honest answer. That’s good – because it means I at least know what I don’t know. Then there’s temptation – maybe I could make something up and no one will know the difference ( I can be very convincing )? Then there’s remembering the relief of not always having to know. And then I fess up. Usually, it goes well. 

And that’s because an ‘I don’t know’ is an opportunity for someone that does know. Or they at least may know how to get to an answer. An honest ‘I don’t know’ is like a pair of parentheses bracketing a pristine, empty sentence. It’s a temptation, an open invitation, for input, collaboration, assistance. 

Which brings me to ‘I could do with some help’. Best buds, they often travel together, but can be independent little phrases too. ‘I could do with some help’ prompts more than a brief pause for another’s input. It’s inviting not a hand on your shoulder and a whispered encouragement, but an arm around your shoulders and walking in lockstep, towards some hard to reach place. It’ll sound like a defeat, but feel like a victory. That’s something else I’m trying harder to remember. 

We’re a brand story telling business ( I think ) and – perhaps that’s or – a content marketing agency ( a lot of the time ).  See the dilemma? We do know how to resolve this conundrum. We just can’t solve our conundrum. 

What are we then? I don’t know. I could use some help.