Category Archives: Writing

Source’s Steps to Self Promotion or The Myth of Marketing

“The more you rely on the statistics that are offered to you as some real or true measurement of your worth the more worthless you are likely to feel in the long run because you will never be able to make those numbers big enough to keep proving what they never proved in the first place . . .”

‘Wisdom’ and Other Words To Live By From a Wet-Behind-The Ears Oracle

Every time I turn around these days I’m bumping into some new marketing guru’s seven steps or ten tips for making the world want whatever it is we have to offer.  It seems it’s never enough anymore to be the creator of something beneficial or beautiful, we must also be willing and able to nearly make a full time job of peddling our product or service—or willing to pay someone who’s willing and able.

I admit I don’t like it.  If I wanted to be a salesman I would have been a salesman, and I’ve never taken kindly to anyone telling me I have to be something I’m not.  And yet there those realities seem to be,  staring us in the face and daring us to be a success if we don’t bite the bullet, suck it up, and show off in the ways that the experts and their statistics tell us is necessary.

I’m pretty sure I’ll never be the Marketing Magician that so many insist I need to become.  Just the thought of it exhausts me.  And yet there’s the dilemma of how to be a successful, fulfilled writer or photographer or anything else when only a handful of folks may ever read or look at what I do.  So I asked The Shower Team:  What’s an alleged genius creator who’s also a reluctant self-promoter to do?  How do I create a life—and work—that I love regardless of the feedback I do or don’t receive?  How do I live and work and play and create joyfully and productively and genuinely not care what the responses to me are?

Here’s what we would urge you to do.  Call it “Source’s Steps to Successful Self Promotion.”  First, forget doing anything you NEED a response to.  Do what YOU respond to. Offer what gives back to you in a way that you think will feel good.  When you share anything at all, express anything at all, share it because you love it, never because you need anyone else to.  The moment you feel you need another to approve, pause . . .  pull back . . .  wait until you have something to offer that you love too much not to offer it, where your enjoyment and appreciation of it is your only reason for offering it.

Be YOU, for the truth in this is that any lack of response you might perceive is actually a lack of response to your needing a response.  The silence you sometimes notice in response to your efforts, is the silence of others who cannot give you what you seek. It is the silence of no one being able—or responsible—for making you feel good enough.

Check your reasons before you share. Ask yourself, “Why am I doing this?”  Then follow these guidelines:

  • Share only what lifts you up.
  • Share only what lights you up.
  • Share only what makes you smile.
  • Share only what you find beautiful or beneficial or compelling
  • Share it only because it feels too good not to share it. 

We would also add to this our view of the diminishing returns of your watching numbers as though they tell you anything of ultimate importance.  We would call this the Myth of Marketing that has been gathering considerable momentum in your physical experience.

More and more of you are believing that your value is based on numbers, be they in the form of dollars or readers or viewers or subscribers or paying customers.  This lie has crept so steadily and so powerfully into your consciousness and taken root in such a way that it is increasingly hard for any of you to see around it to the larger truth that who you are—your value—is never quantified that way by Source, or by the part of you that is aligned with how Source sees you.

Measuring your value this way will never bring you the true joy or satisfaction or fulfillment that you seek.  Even some of your so-called spiritual teachers are now suggesting to you that your message is only as worthy as the size of your mailing list, that your self-worth is only as rich as what you are paid for offering it.

We cannot begin to convey how screwy that notion is from broader perspective, or the degree to which it is bound to trip you up sooner or later.  The truth is you will never get where you want to be by assessing yourself this way or by this outside-in approach to quantifying your success.

We see and we understand the power of this trend that roars through your world.  You observe it and you find it increasingly hard not to buy in to it (for as you’ve noticed, there is nearly always a price tag attached to the picture that has been painted about how to promote yourself). But we say to you, again and again, the numbers do not tell the story.  Trust them and you will sooner or later come to see the illusion behind them.

The more you rely on the statistics that are offered to you as some real or true measurement of your worth the more worthless you are likely to feel in the long run because you will never be able to make those numbers big enough to keep proving what they never proved in the first place—that your worth is measured by the number ONE.  That is, it is entirely about the ONE who offers whatever you are offering because YOU appreciate it, YOU respond to it, YOU care about it. 

You are ONE with All That Is, and any gift you offer expands, moves, enlarges, delights, thrills All That Is and makes the Universe you inhabit bigger and brighter and better . . .  and has nothing to do with anything you will ever find on a sales ledger or a site report or a royalty check.

Look for the true value that you bring to your world by joyfully offering you to that world, the you that no one in your world can effectively or truthfully tally, but that Heaven and Earth applaud you—and reward you–for being.

Well, I bet none of that makes it into a bestselling How To book.  I both love—and am usually somewhat mystified by—the Team’s take on most of what passes for collective savvy in this ever challenging time/space reality.

I’m sure many—myself probably included—would argue it’s easy for them to pooh pooh marketing and promotion when they don’t need those subscribers or sales or royalties to expand what’s in the cabinet or refrigerator or to light up the rooms in one’s house with electricity.  Still, I hate it when I can’t just pooh pooh their pooh poohing.

Do the numbers deceive us?  Do we not need what we think we need ?  Are we just myth mongers—misguided sheep following a herd that believes the grass is actually greener over there where that grinning guru of a shepherd is waving his state of the art staff?

As usual I’ll leave the answers to The Team and see how long I can go without seeing how many “Likes” I just got on Facebook.

Parting aFLOWmation: “Value what you most appreciate, and it can’t help but appreciate.”

For more information about The Shower Channel blog please visit my home page.  Previous posts are available in the Archives.  Contact me if you have questions/topics you would like The Shower Channel to address–or to request a private reading/consultation.

Violets In His Hand

I took a long walk on the beach,
the one from many other dreams.
I knew the sweep of shore,
the chilly sand and waking sea,
the yawning mist,
it’s always morning here.
I walked alone in my bare feet,
the ocean at my side,
my usual purpose leading me—
a rendezvous, an interlude,
a guided meditation.

In previous dreams
it took me to a lover’s arms,
open as a rose in bloom,
warm as dawn.
He always waited,
ready with a kiss, a fire,
a comfort I could hold
and bring up to my lips.

On this beach no stranger’s face,
no usual deity or angel in disguise
reached for me like an answer to a prayer.
I thought I’d been betrayed,
started to accuse the dream,
“Why have you forsaken me?”
then I felt him tug my sleeve.
I recognized his face,
the innocent and hopeful eyes,
the flush of expectation,
a giggle that he seemed embarrassed by.

This was a different dream.
I knew the little boy so well,
knew the man who had forgotten him.
but not the reasons why.
I felt the punch and pinch of grief, of guilt,
assumed how angry he must be
for all those years he’d waited for a friend,
but no cloud covered him.
Only sunlight in his smile,
a welcome wide as morning sky
and violets in his outstretched hand..
I knew they were for me.

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