Stephen Smith

I discovered Stephen thru the InContext blog. He was quite excited about quitting his management position to return to blogging and consulting full time. Many of us consider this option but few take the leap. This interview is about his strategy, plans for the future, and attitude. Stephen’s bio is at the end of the article.

Dawn Groves: You have a lot of irons in the fire. Would you list your blogs/websites/online profiles?

Stephen Smith: Sure, it’s actually very easy, I’ve created a hub-page at http://stephenpsmith.com/ where you can see everything I’m up to: Twitter, the blogs, Facebook, Delicious, the whole enchilada.

You have a cool tag line concept: business development through personal development.

Business Development through Personal Development means you can use productivity principles to enhance your ability to lead, manage, and execute the functions of your business. By becoming more disciplined and focused you can improve everything – make more products, improve service, create more sales, even make more money.

I decided that my skills and talents were better served advancing my own business instead of someone else’s. When I work for myself, dedication and personal development result in greater rewards, financial and otherwise.

This motto played part in my decision to leave my job, because no matter how much effort and improvement I put into it, my return never changed. Upper management wasn’t willing to discuss changes to my compensation package. Neither were they willing to change the underlying structure so I could focus on my core work responsibilities. I decided that my skills and talents were better served advancing my own business instead of someone else’s. When I work for myself, dedication and personal development result in greater rewards, financial and otherwise.

You just quit your day job to pursue online success full time. A radical step. What are your goals?

Stephen: Well, my ultimate goal is to lay around on the beach and drink margaritas…har, just kidding. Short-term? I am going to be re-connecting with people who’ve dropped off my radar because I’ve been immersed in the restaurant biz. I knew some amazing people and it wasn’t fair for me to fall off the face of the earth like that. We were in the discussion phases of project development. I’m looking to finish those projects, generating revenue streams to support other, bigger projects.

Well, my ultimate goal is to lay around on the beach and drink margaritas…har, just kidding.

One of my dearest dreams of the past two years has been to transform the Work.Life.Creativity site into an active, engaged community. Eventually it’ll evolve into a membership site with two kinds of content:  “freemium” and members-only (read as paid subscribers).

I’m also working on a book about my experiences in the Hospitality biz (read drafts of the chapters at Foodie Lust). Of course I’m continuing my coaching and consulting practice via In Context MultiMedia.

My Long-term goals include writing a cookbook, developing another membership site (no, I can’t give you any details yet), and running a marathon. And maybe running off to Italy to learn how to cook, like Bill Buford.

Ambitious plans. What are you going to do differently to meet those goals?

Stephen: One of the biggest lessons I have learned from being a solopreneur and from working my a__ off at the Tavern is that you need to take time for you, your family, your hobbies, your health. I am setting aside time each week for NOT working. And I will definitely enjoy evenings home with my Lovely Bride.

I am setting aside time each week for NOT working. And I will definitely enjoy evenings home with my Lovely Bride.

Click to view Stephen's schedule form

How will you structure your time?

Stephen: Good question. I actually sat down to think about that recently and came up with a weekly agenda based on a blog post I wrote three years ago: Work at Home Productivity. It includes yoga and running each morning, then breakfast with the Lovely Bride. I also plan to work on my book for at least one hour each day and then do some income-generation via niche/affiliate sites. Lastly, each day I’ll write posts for the IC blog and/or for WLC.

Afternoon activities will vary. Time will be set aside for clients, creating information products and networking. I may or may not have a regular schedule.

If you were to start your business today, is there something that you would do better or differently?

Stephen Smith In Action

When I first started I didn’t think ahead; I just wanted the business.

Stephen: When I first started I didn’t think ahead; I just wanted the business. Then I got too much business and became exhausted, unhappy and wondering how I got to the place I was. Turns out I’d been on autopilot and never thought through my growth strategy. Heck, I didn’t even consider what I wanted my life and business to look like. So if I was to do it over, I would start from my 5 year strategic objective, developing business and marketing plans based on where I want it to be in five years. I’d have a smart strategy targeted 5 years ahead, ready to handle my business as it expands.

I’d have a smart strategy targeted 5 years ahead, ready to handle my business as it expands.

You’re generous with your writing and expertise. How do you plan to earn money?

I already make a small amount of money (in the low four figures) from advertising on some of my sites. As I return to publishing content regularly, traffic will increase and the advertising income will grow.

In mid-October I plan to do some client work again, beginning with teleconferences and one-on-one coaching for small business marketing, blogging, etc. I also have products in the pipeline that I’ll be promoting.

What do you see as your greatest energy drain(s)? How will you manage it/them?

The big problem is distractions, like my Twitter and Facebook accounts.

Hmmmm. I don’t really remember any energy drains from the last time I did this. The big problem is distractions, like my Twitter and Facebook accounts. Fortunately, I’ve been fairly successful in limiting my time on them. They do come in handy, though, for prospecting for new clients…

How do you recharge? What is your favorite energetic resource?

I love to read. I’ve also started running and enjoy it immensely. Reading is an escape from day-to-day busyness; running is a good way to clear my mind or work out things simmering on the back burner. Yes, I do carry a notebook and pen with me when I run.

I love to cook as well. I find prep and kitchen work to be very zen-like and relaxing. When I’m dicing the onions, I’m just dicing the onions. Not thinking about the next step, not worrying about the weather. Just dicing the onions. Then when we sit down and actually eat the food I’ve prepared, well, that’s just another moment for mindfulness and enjoyment.

Do you have a favorite blog post you’ve written?

Oh, man, it’s hard to say. I’ve been blogging for five years. I think my favorite series of posts are on the 7 Habits. I certainly had a lot of fun writing them and they continue to draw a lot of traffic. For anyone interested, 7 Habits Ebook is a good place to start. Now that I think about it, that series and the e-book could probably stand a little freshening up…

How do you deal with the discouragement or frustration that comes with working on your own?

Har. If you ask anyone they’ll tell you I’m ridiculously upbeat and positive about what I do. Almost obnoxiously so. I suffer disappointments, we all do, but I try to learn from them and not repeat them. I have studied a little Zen as well as business and marketing, so it gives me a larger perspective.

"It makes me smile because it tastes like vinegar."

What is your driving force, Stephen? What makes you do what you do?

The age-old question. The short answer is that I love to share and tell stories. I find it immensely motivating that people are willing to pay for a transfer of expertise. Teaching Sells, indeed. The long answer is a blog post “Looking Into the Future.”

I find it immensely motivating that people are willing to pay for a transfer of expertise.

Is there anything else you’d like to add?

My darling project is the forum and blog at Work.Life.Creativity. I’m just head-over-heels with the idea of this community and its potential to help people. I would love for people to get involved with it again. Over and over for the past couple of years it has been orphaned and neglected because we have so much to do. But investing a little time will make a difference to all of us who are stressed-out, harried, or sincerely frightened. We can learn things to enhance and improve our lives and our work. Professionals, artists, entrepreneurs, regular working people in every field can share experiences, learning and teaching at the same time. I encourage all your readers to check it out, comment on a thread, ask a question, get involved. All of us together are way smarter than any of us alone.

Thanks, Dawn. I appreciate the serendipity of working on this interview over the Labor Day weekend, the traditional end of summer and the beginning of something new. I’m reminded of the opening verse in Jimmy Buffet’s song “Changes in Latitudes Changes in Attitudes”:

“I took off for a weekend last month
Just to try to recall the whole year
All of the faces & all of the places
Just wonderin’ where it all disappeared.”

Well, I know where it went now, and how to go about getting it back.

About Stephen: Stephen Smith is a customer-service oriented professional with over 15 years of experience in hospitality management leading sales and service (that’s a fancy way of saying that he used to manage restaurants and hotel banquet departments). Coming from that dynamic environment, Stephen brings high-touch experience to the internet with hands-on coaching and education. He has been teaching and consulting with small businesses for over three years, leading to an invitation to present at SOBCon (Business School for Bloggers) in 2009. Stephen writes at the In Context Blog, a web-based resource for social media literacy and business development through personal development.

Web: http://stephenpsmith.com/
Blog: http://blog.incontextmultimedia.com/
Twitter: hdbbstephen

I’m sitting in Starbucks attempting to update my blog. How can I possibly think about adding to the Making Excuses series while the world continually teeters on the brink of collapse? I take a sip of coffee and try again.

Nope, can’t do it.

Writing helps me make sense of things. So on my third effort, I write about galvanizing a heartfelt, proper response to a disaster halfway across the world, without simultaneously devaluing my own modest efforts and personal concerns.

Realism Faces Forward

One of the harsh truths of nature is that no matter what the calamity, life still goes on. Despite Northern Japan’s deep yogurt, the world economy, turmoil in the Mideast, we still have businesses to run, families to nurture, and daily obligations to meet.

When disaster strikes, fatalists say we dodged a bullet. Separatists say we’re special. Realists say, it is what is.

I’m a realist. Whether it sucks or doesn’t suck, it’s life. By being objective, I avoid languishing in giddy relief or dropping headlong into despair. Unfortunately, realism also has a serious dark side; it turns cold without the influence of compassion and connection.

Misfortune Isn’t Contagious

We can become superstitious; getting close to misfortune, even thinking about it can lead to fatal infection. The smart money is on staying separate and disconnected.

Life may seem easier if you separate your heart from painful reality. Indeed, disconnection isn’t all bad. It helps you stay centered when performing under pressure. It helps you survive. But when disconnect goes on auto-pilot, it darkens reality and closes your mind. Disconnection empowers exclusivity, alienates support, and is the antithesis of communication.

So how to stay connected without becoming overwhelmed?

Remain connected without obsession. Viewing tsunami or 9/11 videos help process and understand the reality of a disaster. But it can also devolve into a morbid fascination similar to rubbernecking a car accident. It’s desensitizing. Awareness: good. Desensitization: bad.

I use two simple practices to help me avoid becoming desensitized:

a) Lighting a candle. I light one of those tall glass candles from the grocery store. The candle helps me acknowledge our human frailty, remember the issue in my heart, and it keeps aware of my blessings at home. It keeps things in perspective.

b) Reading news online twice daily. I don’t want to hide from the truth but neither do I want to obsess over details. Obsessive news gathering doesn’t enhance my awareness and it seems to feed a darker part of my psyche. A good read twice a day is plenty.

Remaining connected also takes advantage of experimental bias. This is the tendency to see what we expect. Researchers struggle to overcome this bias because it subconsciously skews test results. In my case, however, when I’m informed and connected I’m keeping the radar on. If something comes up where I can actually be of assistance, my bias will help me see it and hopefully participate.

Big deal, you say. It doesn’t help Japan or 9/11 or anything. It’s not useful in the big picture.

On this point I defer to Stephen Covey who, in Seven Habits for Highly Effective People, developed a simple, elegant way to reframe the concept of usefulness.

Reframe without Minimizing

One person’s breakup is another’s lost livelihood. One person’s illness is another’s natural disaster. Pain is pain. Yet no matter the situation, we can always take positive action within our Circles of Influence.

From 7 Habits of Highly Effective People

Covey starts with the larger Circle of Concern. It includes everything in life we’re worried about: world finances, terrorism, war, natural disaster, global climate change, bird flu, whatever. It’s a circle of reaction. We flail with anxiety, contract in denial, or turn tail and run.

The Circle of Influence is a subset of the Circle of Concern. Smaller in scope, the Circle of Influence encompasses our work, family, the food we eat, the way we communicate and drive our cars, our attitudes, and our behavior.

Circles of Influence grow when they are tended, similar to blogs. This is where we have the power to effect change and make a difference. Indeed, it’s the only place we can.

In Lao Tzu’s I-Ching, this concept is indirectly expressed as “the taming power of the small.” One can make a bigger difference by taking smaller steps, working diligently within smaller circles. Whether I’m teaching classes, talking to my kids, lighting a candle, or checking the news, I’m active within my Circle of Influence. As the circle expands, I’ll still be active. It may not be much, but it’s all I’ve got.

Back at Starbucks, I finish my third refill of coffee and close up shop. I didn’t write about excuses today; tomorrow I surely will. Regardless of world crisis, productivity is still my niche and passion, my personal Circle of Influence. My blog, my trainings, my writing, it’s what I do. It’s my circle of influence.

I also refreshed the earthquake kit.

What are your thoughts about handling disaster? What small things are you doing? I look forward to your input and ideas.

ouch

My dog used my face to launch off the bed this morning. Nigel weighs about 55 pounds. He was chasing the cat.

The results were a lot of cursing and a couple of bloody slices tracing my right cheek from above the eyebrow down to the corner of my mouth. Can’t put makeup on them. Ice packs keep the swelling down.

good lord...

I have a business meeting tomorrow about 3 hours away in Canada.

Sigh.

One memorable halloween I died my face neon purple. I also had a panel interview scheduled for the next morning.  (Yeah it was stupid. I did a lot of stupid things.) Of course the washable color transformed into a ghastly shade of cantaloupe.

Another time I face-planted into a sliding glass door and impaled my upper lip on my teeth. This was *as* I was walking into the business meeting.

Hmmmm.

I guess I’ll just smile and say, ‘you should’ve seen the other guy.’

Make Your Resolutions Stick

January and February are the traditional months for hauling out your New Year’s resolutions complete with built-in self destruct sequences. The yearly Lose-Ten-Lbs, Exercise-Daily, or Stop-Being-Late goals may be sincere and well executed, but they’re doomed to fail as soon as you become anxious or overwhelmed.

It’s your biology. The stressed-out brain resists giving up energy to anything demanding willpower or delayed gratification.At the right moment, it will fall back into the comfortable, well-worn neural pathways and instant relief of old habits. This is how the brain manages its energy. It’s an efficient system with an unwelcome side effect: sabotaging healthy behavior change.

Read pdf of full article.

Hi, this is a 5-podcast series I did in 2009 for NaNoWriMo writers. They’re 3-minute targeted pieces to help with writing almost anything, from proposals to novels. Click the link, then sit quietly and listen for 3 minutes. Enjoy!

How you approach your writing session is often how you experience it. Change your approach and see what happens.

LISTEN

Next 2: Word Flow

Dan’s beloved grandmother is dying. His mom flew back to Madison earlier this week. Last I heard, his mother and her sister-in-law were shopping for a dress.

“Does Mom need an outfit to wear to the funeral?”
I asked Dan.

“No, Grandma needs it.”

“Excuse me but isn’t Grandma going to be dead?”

“Yeah, she needs something to wear in the casket.”

“Oh.”

In my youth I thought that memorials were a waste of time because death wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. You just moved into a new body. That was when I was ten feet tall and immortal. Now that I’m shorter, older and closer to death, I have a compassionate appreciation for memorials of all kinds. I understand the need to eulogize a loved one, to mourn in public, to perform rituals such as purchasing a special dress, to keep remembrances close at hand. (I still have my late father’s tired black car-coat hanging in my closet.)

What is difficult for me to understand, however, is the attraction of burial. Cremation is so much neater, cleaner. I’d much rather have my body purified by fire instead of pickled and powdered.

Everyone has their own memorial style. When my brother and I divided up my father’s ashes, I ceremonially dispersed most of mine into a glorious lake, storing the remaining quarter-cup in an etched granite box on our dresser. On the other hand, my brother keeps Dad in the back of his refrigerator, stuffed into a round plastic Tupperware container with a fluted yellow top. “What if someone thinks there’s food in that container and opens it up?” I ask. “Not gonna happen,” he says. “No-one wants to go anywhere near the back of my refrigerator.”

I really like ashes. They’re appealing, like tiny pieces of seashell. I can touch them and feel close to my dad again. Best of all, I don’t need to visit a cemetery to see them.

My meditation buddy, Michael, died of stomach cancer a few years ago. I loved Michael and truly grieved his passing. To help honor and remember him, I wanted his ashes on my home altar next to Dad. During Michael’s Zen memorial service, I kept my eye on the urn perched next to a statue of the Buddha. After the ritual I sidled over to Buddha, checked left and right, and deftly scooped a handful of Michael from the urn into my coat pocket. Then I scooted back to Dan.

“Guess what?” I asked Dan.

“What?”

“Guess what I have in my pocket?”

“Whaaat?” He looked at me long and hard.

I leaned into him, whispering, “Michael.”

“Jesus, Dawn! Did anybody see you do it?” Dan glanced around the room.

“Nope.”

“Why didn’t you just ask his mother if you could take some of his cremains?”

I stepped back. “She doesn’t know me from Adam. It would seem ghoulish.”

“Oh and carrying his ashes in your coat pocket isn’t?

“Nope,” I smiled, running my fingers gently through the sandy contents. “It’s comforting.”

END

Our downstairs bedroom in Bellingham reeked from the day we first moved into the house. I mentioned it to my husband, Dan, when we started unpacking boxes.

“Dan, there’s a weird smell in here,” I said.

“This house is new,” Dan explained. “When a house is closed up tight for a period of time, it gets musty and needs to air out. Give it a few days.”

Two weeks passed and the bedroom smelled worse. When I said something about it to my friend, Colleen, she replied, “Oh, Dawn, that’s just what houses in the Northwest smell like. You’re from San Diego, what do you know about living in wet ecosystems?”

The smell waxed and waned for a year so we finally contacted the builder. He dutifully checked everything and found no dead animals, no gas leaks, no sewer problems, no moldy floorboards. Our crawlspace was fresh as a daisy. Besides, he didn’t think it smelled bad — maybe just a little woodsy.

After two years, the smell no longer waned; it was pervasive and foul. I was forced to keep the bedroom door closed to prevent odor from wafting throughout our home. I talked to two cleaning companies that specialized eradicating fire damage odors. They either couldn’t smell it (what is it with Washington State noses anyway?) or couldn’t locate it. Because Dan and I weren’t willing to rebuild the entire south side of the house, we did the next best thing: pretended the problem didn’t exist.

The following year our smelly room became famous online. It was home to the Spam Cam, a popular faux-science Web site dedicated to the decomposition of the Hormel canned meat product, Spam. What the hell, we thought, maybe one rank smell could cancel out another. Loaves of Spam festered alongside comparison foods such as potatoes, pizza and Twinkies. We uploaded photos and commentary to the Website on a daily basis. Dan had to do most of the dirty work — I couldn’t tolerate the aroma.

Twelve months later when the Spam Cam was laid to rest, brave Dan dragged an arsenal of cleaning products and equipment into the smelly room and shut the door behind him. By sunset he stumbled triumphant into the hallway. “I think I’ve done it, Dawn. Let’s give the room some time to vent.”

We waited. I entertained myself with visions of new paint, fresh flowers, maybe an office extension. Seven days later on a bright spring morning, I strode down the hallway, hesitated, and then swung the smelly room’s door wide open. For a moment it sparkled.

“Hey, Dawn,” Dan called from his reading chair. “Is the smell gone?” He looked up just in time to see me running into bathroom with a towel over my  nose.

“I take it that would be a No.”

Odorbusters in Seattle seemed like the answer to our prayers. Stanley (Mr. Odorbuster) said there were no guarantees but he was 98 percent sure he could locate the source of the smell and exorcise it. He bragged about being featured on the news with his odor-seeking dog, Buster. If we paid extra for time and trouble, he’d gladly trek north to help us out. “It’s worth it,” I said. “And bring Buster with you.”

At 8:30 on Saturday morning, Dan and I awakened to a sharp rapping on the front door. There stood Stanley, bright-eyed and ready to work. “Where’s the dog?” I asked. “Sorry,” he said. “Buster couldn’t make it today. But my nose is just as good.” Dan stood in the driveway staring at the bright green ODORBUSTERS lettering glowing against the side of Stanley’s white van. “It’s kind of embarrassing,” he muttered.

All morning, I heard Stanley tinkering, tapping, sniffing and snorting. The man was driven. At noon I checked on him.

“Making progress?” I asked.

He didn’t look happy. “I can’t seem to find the source,” he said. “I think the smell is in that outside wall but I need another opinion.” Stanley stepped back, studying me for a moment. “How’s your nose, Dawn?”

“Well, I can smell garlic in the next room.”

“Good enough!”

With Stanley’s guidance I snuffled every inch of the carpet and lower wallboard. “Don’t breathe so deep,” he coached. “Slow down. Take short sniffs. Think of it as wine tasting.”

I finally stood up and patted the wall under the window. “It’s coming from here,” I announced.

Stanley was proud. “You should work for me,” he said. “You have great nostrils.” Then he pressed his palms against the offending wall, silent.

Suddenly my mentor grabbed a saw from his toolbox and faced me.

“We need to operate,” he said.

I steadied the ladder as Stanley climbed above the window and looked down to me for final sanction. “You sure about this?” he asked, waving his saw in the air.

“Do it.”

Stanley sawed a 12-inch square hole over the windowsill and another near the floorboard, yanking out insulation along the way. A chemical odor poured into the room. “Pay dirt,” he grinned. “Now we find the source.” He grabbed two oversized clear plastic bags, dropping wallboard into one and insulation into the other. “We’ll cook these in the sun for a while and then check to see which one reeks the most. That’ll give us our answer.” Confidently, we both waited on the deck, downing Tylenol and tea.

An hour later we opened the bags. No bad smell from either of them. Stan scratched his scalp. “We know it’s in the wall but the parts don’t smell when isolated. I’m baffled. Gosh, Dawn, I guess you’re that rare 2% of clients that I can’t fix.”

The door to the smelly room was closed for another year.

One late autumn afternoon during year six, Dan and I chatted in our kitchen with Jim, a builder friend. As usual, I brought up the elusive odor problem. “Mind if I check outside for a minute?” Jim said. “Sure,” I replied, “But you won’t smell much. It’s inside the wall.” Five minutes later he returned. “You have Omniwood siding. Some of their siding has problems. Did you know there’s a class action lawsuit against them? You might have a case.”

Jim was right. A mammoth bacteria colony was happily oozing around our siding boards. In six short months we replaced all of the siding with an $11000.00 settlement check. When the carpenter hammered his last nail, Dan and I stood in the hallway outside the smelly room, ready for the big test. I tapped my fingers together and then stepped inside, closing the door behind me.

After about five minutes Dan couldn’t stand it any longer. “Dawn? You okay in there?” I swung the door open and breathed deeply.

“This. Room. Is. Clear.”

END