Overpromising is bad not because you are going to disappoint others but because you are setting yourself up for failure.
Make the selfish decision to only promise what you can actually do.
It’s the kind of selfishness that benefits everybody.
Overpromising is bad not because you are going to disappoint others but because you are setting yourself up for failure.
Make the selfish decision to only promise what you can actually do.
It’s the kind of selfishness that benefits everybody.
In the past four years, I have only replied to four cold outreach from sales or business development reps.
In two cases, I already knew the company. Their brand was so popular in my circle that I was just seeking an opportunity to work with them. When the sales reps reached out, I was sold already. I booked a meeting, and from there on it was just a matter of how.
In one case, the sales rep really put work and effort at personalising the outreach. I did exchange some emails with them, and the whole thing turned into a deal with another side of the organisation a few months later.
In one case, there was an offer for a €125 Amazon voucher to attend a demo. I did reply, the thing got too complex, and since I had absolutely no interest in the tool they were selling, I gave up easily and with a smile on my face.
I can’t say how many others I have gotten, but they all went to the trash bin or ended up accompanying some pungent posts on social media.
And yet, there is people that still believe that one plus one equals sale.
Success – however you define it, in whatever field you are pursuing it – is a matter of faith.
Faith that what you are doing today is going to bear fruits. Faith that despite not seeing any sudden improvement, change is happening in small increments every single day. Faith that even failure is important. Faith that the good work you are putting out there is worth it, for you and for the people you serve.
Always believe in the method and apply it systematically.
That’s what faith in success looks like.
Many have problems coming to terms with the idea that they do not understand (something).
Even more panic at the mere thought of going in front of an audience – no matter how small, let’s say a team meeting – and admit that they do not understand (something).
If you hide your lack of understanding, you miss the opportunity to actually understand. It seems silly to just say that. But when you leave that meeting without asking the question needed to clarify the thing that is not clear, clarity will not come later on, as some sort of enlightenment. Instead, the opposite will happen. The lack of clarity and understanding will compound. That will mean an increasing feeling of being lost. For you, and also for those you might be asked to explain that very same thing to.
For years, I have seen my lack of technical knowledge in a technology-first world as a bug. Then I realized that it’s actually a feature. It’s what enables me to ask question after question. Until I get it. Until it is so clear that I can actually go and write some copy or message that makes it clear for everyone else.
And since this is not about me, I guess the point of all this is: that thing you regard as a defect, that part of you that you tend to hide, that characteristic that you feel ashamed of.
Is it a bug or a feature?
The best way to build a relationship with others is to not treat them as if they were playing a support role in your masterpiece script.
Like the entrepreneur who can’t figure out why employees don’t care as much as they do. Or the manager who gets mad when someone resigns for a better position. Or the friend you don’t hear from anymore because you moved to the neighbouring city. Or the parent who can’t accept the fact their kids are taking a path they had never imagined for themselves.
Everyone has their own script they are working on, and when two people come together to co-author some parts of theirs, it’s a blessing, not an obligation.
We tend to forget that very easily.