Your Company is the Stories People Tell About it

I had an entirely different blog post planned for today...and then I saw the below photo (and story) a friend had posted on Facebook.

"So today I was in Hallmark buying my mom a birthday card when I noticed this old man stnding in front of the Valentines card section contemplating which one to get. I decided to go over and I asked him “Are you getting a Valentine’s Day for your wife?” to which he replied, 'No my wife died three years ago from breast cancer, but I still buy her roses and a card and bring them to her grave to prove to her that she was the only one who will ever have my heart.' "

I cannot confirm whether or not the story is true or not, but this much I know - it is powerful. I clicked on the original source this morning. In 23 hours the original post had received 373,317 likes, 119,745 shares, each of the 20,875  comments reflecting a range of emotions - hope, joy, sadness, nostalgia.

According to Hallmark, Americans send 144 million greeting cards for Valentines Day each year. I wonder if any of the cards exchanged yesterday generated even a fraction emotional connection to the brand like the above story did. The story of a little, old man (and his big love) inspired people around the world to feel, talk, connect and share. It didn't cost a penny, just a single question and a few minutes of conversation.

This is Word of Mouth - and Word of Heart.

If you open the Brains on Fire book to page 5, you'll find a quote from our Chief Inspiration Officer Greg Cordell. "Your company is the stories people tell about it."

Are you having conversations with your people? Are you asking them questions? Do you know your company? More importantly, do you know the stories are people telling about it?

An Apple a Day: Thoughts on Steve Jobs

The entire world is talking about Steve Jobs this morning. And rightfully so. Last night I sat in front of my Twitter stream - from the first tweet breaking the news to an unreasonably late hour - watching people from all corners of the world come together to celebrate an innovator who changed human communication forever.

Confession: until just over a year ago, I wasn't an "Apple person." After another run-in with a PC "blue screen of death," I finally decided it was time to jump ship and shell out the cash for a MacBook. When I brought my MacBook home in July of 2010, I spent the first 24 hours seriously considering returning it to the store because it didn't have a delete key. Sure, it had a <em>delete </em>key, but the MacBook delete key functioned like a PC backspace key. How could I live without a delete key and a backspace key? Furthermore, where was the left click button?! A few days (and keyboard shortcuts) later, and I was in love. Turns out... I <strong>am</strong> an Apple person.

Flash forward a year. The tidbits and nuggets of my life are captured, stored and preserved in the form of photos, documents and videos in two places: my MacBook and my iPhone. My MacBook and my iPhone aren't my life, but they <em>are</em> tools that help me live better, think better, work better and communicate better.

If I could share one story with Steve Jobs, this would be it.

24 years ago, a 5-year-old version of me sat at Epcot Center, listening intently as the narrator's voice described a vision of the millennium ahead. He explained that one day we would find ourselves eating from flavored tubes of food like astronauts, bidding farewell to vehicles and skateboards in exchange for flying cars and hoverboards. From all the visions of the future I caught a glimpse of that afternoon, the one that has always stuck with me was the promise that one day I would hold a phone and be able see the person I was speaking to on the other end of the line.

I remember filing that promise away in my head. I remember making a conscious mental note, that if that day ever came, it must really be true that anything is possible.

Last month I connected to Facetime for the first time. On the other end of the line? My father. 800 miles away.

In the flurry of tweets last night, someone said it simply and eloquently (two qualities I think we can all agree Steve Jobs would appreciate): <strong>He was our Edison. </strong>

As for his legacy, I don't think I could sum it up any better that this passage from the Brains on Fire Book (page 14):

<em>If your company were (heaven forbid) to be hit by a bus tomorrow, would you brand live on without you? In other words, is your customer's brand loyalty so strong that it's self-sustaining? Are you the main drive of what your brand stands for? Is it in the ads that the marketing department prints in the monthly pubs? Or does it live in the hearts and minds of your employees and customers? </em>

<em>Brands that truly matter can, without a doubt, answer this question in a heartbeat. The culture of fans is so loyal that the brand they love so much will live on, even if it's not there to feed them anymore. And if something happened to you (or your company) there would be an outcry from your fans. Calls would be made. E-mails would circulate. You would be mourned. But, in your absence, those who love you would pull together and somehow continue the word you'd begun.</em>

<strong>We don&rsquo;t get a chance to do that many things, and every one should be really excellent. Because this is our life.</strong> | Steve Jobs

The Story of YOU (is really the story of US)

Monday was a new beginning for me. Not just a new week beginning, but a new decade beginning. A fresh start. A "round three." A clean slate. Why? Because on Monday, I turned 30. (I am still trying that declaration on for size.) As we are obligated to do with any milestone birthday, I decided to bid bon voyage to my twenties and welcome my thirties surrounded by a handful of my favorite people on the planet. I live in a little house. It was built sometime in the 30s. I chose to live there after a good friend (who happens to be an interior designer) shared her philosophy with me: "Buy the smallest space you can make work for you... in the nicest neighborhood you can afford." Essentially, quality over quantity. As it turns out, I love my little house. My only real complaint is the tiny kitchen. It would be generous to say there is an 8x8 square of floor space. It is walled on all sides. And ever since the first time I entertained in my little house, it left me longing for an open floor plan. Whenever anyone comes over, I find myself apologizing for the little kitchen. Frankly, the little kitchen irritates me.

So there we were on Saturday night, 20 or so of my nearest and dearest Greenvillains (I'm not sure if they realize I refer to them as such, but now they do...) strewn throughout the house, eating, drinking and reveling in a general sense of merriment. At one point in the evening, I glanced over my shoulder to discover that nearly all of the guests were crowded in the little kitchen. They were chatting and happy and enjoying each other's company - shoulder to shoulder, but nobody really seemed to mind.

In a moment so full of life and love - a little kitchen has never seemed so big.

When the last of my guests had left, I found myself giving thanks for the joy of dirty dishes, evidence of an evening well spent. And it gave me pause to reflect on the relationships in my life.

These most important relationships and people cannot be summed up by the "about me" section on a Facebook profile, but here is what I can tell you about them...

They are the kind of people who show up early, volunteering to help party-prep so you could enjoy the evening just a little bit more. They are the kind of people who bring your beloved dog a housewarming gift, too. They bring you homemade biscotti for the morning after - and wine for whenever. They are the kind of people who  pay attention to a dream you mentioned  in casual conversation, and months later, show up carrying the dream topped with a bow. They are the kind of people who arrive with a hug and take a hug one last hug for the road. They are the kind of people who can fill a little kitchen with so much light, you forget it is little at all.

For me, my birthday was less about celebrating me - and so much more about celebrating the people, experiences, choices and relationships that have filled the first 30 chapters of the Story of Me.

"Buy the smallest space you can make work for you... in the nicest neighborhood you can afford." It's a theory that applies to relationships, too. In a time where "more" is often equated with "better," many people have lost site of what really matters: quality. Fill your small space, your little kitchen, your one, precious life with the best people you can find. The best friends, the most passionate people, the believers, the celebrators, the enthusiasts, the dreamers and doers. Fill your days with people who care about and believe in something you care about and believe in, too.

These are the people who will show up to your party. These are the people who will get down in the trenches with you, and rise up and take a stand with you. These are the people who will not only tell, but help you write The Story of You.

Which, in the end, turns out to be less "The Story of You" - and more of "The Story of Us."

Who will tell your story?

Great Storytelling: More Than Words

A story is told as much by silence as by speech. | Susan Griffin The other day I came across an article written by Steve Slaunwhite on how to be a better copywriter. His opening paragraph made me laugh.

“You slave over your copy, writing powerful headlines and body copy that sizzles. You cover all the salient selling points and describe the product features and benefits in a compelling manner. Then, once you've completed your masterpiece, your graphic designer comes back to you and says, “The text doesn't fit into the layout. It's too long. Can you cut it?”

We’ve all been there.

As writers, we spend our lives filling our toy boxes with words – big and little, simple and sophisticated, snarky and refined. We have a soft spot for the thesaurus, and most of our friends dare not go up against us in a game of Scrabble. Words are what we do – and what we love.

Great writers are as skilled at listening as they are at speaking. They don’t let the words mute the message. They know when to reel in an overzealous adjective, just like they know the importance of holding out for the just-right verb. (Which often shows up in the middle of the night, waking them from a dead sleep.)

The greatest writers are also gifted storytellers. Sometimes their message is conveyed in words - other times, the white spaces in between.

But there is a difference between being a great writer and a great storyteller. Great writers share great words with the world. Great storytellers carry great stories to the world.

This week I discovered an amazing video on Vimeo. The Adventures of a Cardboard Box. It tells a wordless story that says more than any script could. Take a few minutes and allow yourself to drift back to childhood. Take a journey through the blank space in between. Let yourself be enfolded by a story that says so much – without saying a word. It’s 8 minutes well spent. I promise.

http://www.vimeo.com/25239728

Your turn. Share a story that has moved you recently.

The Power of Pictures: A Social Scrapbook

There are always two people in every picture:  the photographer and the viewer. | Ansel Adams

I collect antique photographs. Old photos of strangers I have never met and have no familial ties to. I know nothing about their pasts. I don’t know their names or where they grew up. I can’t tell you their favorite foods or where they were born or buried. Despite the abundance of question marks punctuating their lives and stories, however, each photograph offers a doorway to the past; a split-second time warp, capturing a moment I wasn’t there to experience, but somehow feel connected to.

This weekend I watched NYC fireworks sitting atop the roof of a yellow taxicab. I met a pair of superhero dogs, dressed in patriotic superhero dog capes. I took a wild and windy ride on the back of a motorcycle. I cheered when a friend got engaged.

I wasn’t really there for any of it, but somehow I felt a part of it. All thanks to Instagram.

I recently stumbled across a blog post declaring Instagram “The Most Important Social Network I’ve Ever Used.” As a newbie to the iPhone world, it seemed like a grandiose and sweeping statement. Can a wordless social medium really connect people and start a conversation? And what, exactly, is the power of a picture?

In a word: storytelling.

Instagram (and photosharing) not only provide us with new and instantaneous ways to capture and preserve our stories and moments, they offer an outlet to illustrate our stories, too. We are creating social scrapbooks, and each photo has the potential to ignite sentiment, stories and conversation between the photographer and the viewer.

So what do we gain by tapping into our inner instartist? Some people suggest these apps are creativity and conversation catalysts with the power change the way we approach our everyday lives and world.

“Instagram is tapping into a creative yen that I did not know I possessed. I am starting to see the effects rippling through my everyday life. The desire to look for the unusual in the ordinary is beginning to permeate more and more of my thinking. There is a willingness to consider ideas that traditionally would have been way too out of the box for me. The act of looking at things in a different way is leading me think about things in a different way as well.” [full article here]

It's Tuesday. It feels like Monday. Most of us are back to work after a long (and hopefully happy) holiday weekend. We woke up this morning and went through the same routine we do each day of the week. We took the same route to work to return to the same office we inhabit 40+ hours a week. But somewhere along the way, I imagine we all bypassed something beautiful.

Maybe it's time to start seeing our same world differently. Today I'm challenging each of you to look at your day. Don't just look at it - really see it. And when you do, snap a picture and send it to me amy@brainsonfire.com. Let's practice the art of silent storytelling through the power of pictures.

UPDATE: Thanks to all our friends who submitted photos today. Tuesday was a truly beautiful day. We think you'll agree...

The Brand Humanifesto

In April, I wrote about letting your human show. It’s a novel idea for some brands. It makes others shake in their boots. For those that have embraced their humanness, however, there is no better place to share (or find) the core of a brand's spirit than in their brand manifesto. (Or perhaps it’s better we call it the brand humanifesto.)

We all use the word, but what is a manifesto, really?

The literal definition: a written statement declaring publicly the intentions, motives or views of its issuer. A public declaration explaining past actions and announcing the motive for forthcoming ones.

So what makes a good brand manifesto? Where are brand manifestos born? And why even bother with a manifesto when you already have a vision statement and a mission statement working overtime for your brand?

First, I think it's important to remember a manifesto is not a mission statement or a vision statement.

“I think the big idea [with a brand manifesto] is that it's a public declaration, not something that's limited to employees. Everyone sees it. Customers, investors, partners...everyone. It doesn't feature vague, self-serving statements about being the "leading provider" or "market-share leader." Your intentions are written in clear and friendly language, and the manifesto contains proof that you're putting your intentions into action.” [read full article here]

What does that really mean? Its your brand. It's you. With no walls. No jargon. No mumbo jumbo. It's your sense of humor. Your sense of style. Your spirit. Your imagination and inspiration. It's you unfiltered talking to your friends. It's a kindred spirit rallying cry. Your team cheer. Your chant. It's the reason you get out of bed in the morning and the passion that energizes you long before the first cup of coffee.

Simply put: your brand manifesto is the real story of you.

Which begs the question...how does a brand sift through their entirety to distill down to the best bits of human inspiration, intention and injustice within? By the power invested in question mark, of course.

"If you were on a protest march in the street to fight against something, what would you write on your banner? And if you were to flip this into a positive and fight for something, what would you write?

What is the bigger role your brand can play in everyday life? What sort of "legacy" would you like to leave behind after 5 years on the brand?

Ultimately, a manifesto needs to put a stake in the ground - what do you stand for? What do the people who subscribe to your vision believe in? What world do you and they want to see?" [read full article here]

And now for the fun – meet a few folks who are doing the brand humanifesto well.

Kelly Benefit Strategies-Optum Health Procycling (What if we all rode bikes? We'd all look good in lycra. And our carbon footprints would be reduced to the size of thumbprints.)

Bacardi (We are all meant to be together.)

Method (good always prevails over stinky.)

Amana (We believe guest towels shouldn't be so fancy the guests are scared to use them. We believe in proudly displaying personal tchotchckes, even if we don't know how to spell it.)

luluemon (Dance, sing, floss and travel.)

Chipotle (Food with INTEGRITY)

Pacifica Perfume (Fearlessness is our most valuable natural resource. Great waves make for great days.)

Roux Maison (We believe a cashmere sweater should last lifetimes. We believe the dryer eats one sock. We believe in making future heirlooms out of what we love today.)

SheWanders (We believe in pictures of cocktails and pictures of people with cocktails. We believe that backdrops are for pin up models and smilebooth.)

So. What's your humanifesto?