Category: Making a Difference

The Customer Experience

Posted on by Carl Weber

Field Notes Sweet Tooth

I recently found Field Notes as a way to regain the lost art of writing things down. Their designer, Aaron Draplin is an amazing speaker [see his Ted talk], and you can tell his philosophy and approach have permeated the company and experience.

[Let me be really clear up front, this is not a paid advertisement. I do not have anything to gain by writing about this product. I purchase them just like anyone else and I typically do not mention actual companies or products in this post, but the repeated positive experience has created an exception.]

There is something about writing something down, especially in an electronic age. The feel of the paper, the ink of the pen. Recent studies have found that writing things down (versus typing) may help us learn and retain more.

I have been filling up my own Field Notes memo books over the past years. Savoring each word, idea, and memory. They captured thoughts from random to sacred. Sitting on a park bench writing down dreams and ideas felt special and meaningful.

I have started giving them away to my close friends, inviting them into the experience.

Recently I subscribed to their quarterly shipment.

I expected to just receive the newest and latest colors/styles each quarter. But I began to realize it was more than just a few books.

Many companies sell you products.

There is something you need. You order it or go to the store and purchase it. You use it up. You purchase it again.

But a few companies invite you into an experience.

Something different, something unique. The more you spend time with them, the more you feel like you are part of something more.

As each quarterly shipment arrived, there was always something extra.

A pencil.

A pen.

A small gift.

When one shipment arrived, it even included candy to celebrate the “sweet tooth” edition.

They are also the company with the “who to blame” check box, to make sure the got the order right.

The experience continued.

I kept thinking to myself, this company is different, the experience feels different, and somehow special.

The other day another package arrived.

It was not time for another quarterly shipment.

It was something different.

To celebrate their 30th quarterly shipment, they sent along a bonus “Thank You” to all of the subscribers, customized to us.

Going the extra mile to make your customers feel important moves the relationship from a product to a customer experience.

What can we all do to move our customers from products to an experience?

To Field Notes: Thanks for leading the way.

Field Notes Carl Weber

 

Hating Salmon and Lemon Squares

Posted on by Carl Weber

“He hates Salmon.”

“He hates Lemon Squares.”

“He is grumpy if he doesn’t eat.”

“He is grumpy if woken from a nap.”

“He [insert event, either one time or a repeated event that happened, and form a hard-wired rule about the person despite the passage of time, even years].”

There was a time when I didn’t really like eating salmon. You know the poached (was it boiled?) kind smothered in a creamy sauce with dill.

Rule #1: Carl hates salmon.

There was a time when desserts in general were not my favorite, I am more of a savory person, and since periodically I may be training for something or trying to lose weight, sweets of any kind are not my friend.

Rule #2: Carl hates lemon squares.

Years later, the remnants of those rules still appear. People are surprised when I eat Salmon (grilled and savory is my favorite) or take a bite of a lemon square.

The preferences at that moment were not meant to create a hard-wired rule.

The preferences were a snapshot in time.

But, times change.

And people change.

We think we know them.

We think they are the same.

We think we had it right.

How many times have these hard-wired rules created obstacles between us?

How many times have these snapshots been held up as a representation of us?

Be careful of the hard-wired rule trap.

You have changed, and so have the people around you.

P.S. I am also not always grumpy because I am hungry or when I wake from a nap, sometimes I am just grumpy.

Yes

Posted on by Carl Weber

Yes

Yes.

But I am tired.

Yes.

But I want to rest.

Yes.

But I would much rather [insert distraction here].

Yes.

But it will be hard.

Yes.

But I may fail.

Yes.

But people may laugh at me.

Yes.

But I am afraid.

Yes.

But I am not qualified.

Yes.

But I am not ready.

Yes.

Learning to say Yes while wading through the obstacle swamp our minds and bodies create for us may make all the difference.

Work Life Separation

Posted on by Carl Weber

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We get a quick note on the weekend.

“Sorry to bug you about work on a weekend, but I need…”

Or a text late at night.

“Hey, sorry, I know it is late, but can you send along…”

And there was an email early in the morning.

“Sorry, this is last-minute, but can you give us a call right away…”

These requests were simple. They took just a few moments of our time.

We enjoyed being able to respond. It didn’t even feel like work.

There was a time when we thought we needed work life separation.

There was a time when we thought this divide was important.

There was a time when work felt like work.

Over the past few years the work life separation wall has slowly been dismantled.

Brick by brick, the need to be distinct and have boundaries has faded away.

The work life separation wall has become a smeary, messy, blended tapestry.

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When our work, and life is about helping others, both happen at interesting hours, times, and moments.

It doesn’t feel like work. It isn’t distinct from our life. It just is.

We live and work at weird hours when there is a need. There are no office hours.

We aren’t counting the days until we retire. We just live.

We live and work in various locations, and at various times.

We meet the needs around us throughout our entire journey.

There is no longer a need for the work life separation.

The absence of that artificial barrier sets us free.

 

The Illogical Path

Posted on by Carl Weber

We get jobs. We work in a particular field.

We move on, either by our choice or others.

We are faced with a choice.

We can follow the logical path. Stay in or close to our field. Connect with our network. Find something similar.

Or

We can follow the illogical path. Try something radical. Move outside of comfort. Apply the lessons and skills from one industry to another. Go work for ourselves.

During a recent breakfast discussion, as I listened to the plan for the new career, the new job, the new approach, and most of it was on the logical path.

They know people, they have experience, so they keep following the logical path.

It made sense. I kept listening.

“It all makes sense to me. But (pause) what if you spent 25% of the time you are planning to spend down the logical path in a different direction? What if you scheduled one-quarter of this effort down the illogical path?”

Throughout the rest of the conversation, it was fun to notice their body language and tone of voice. Whenever they spoke of something on the illogical path, they lit up. They leaned in, they were excited.

I shared a story about a close friend who is a writer. For most of their career, they found jobs writing. It was the logical path.

But the logical path, the seemingly safe choice, had its price. They were not very satisfied.

The writer friend recently followed the illogical path. They now have this weird hard-to-describe job that is cool, challenging, and new (frankly this job sounds super-spy like so I like to pretend that I am meeting with a spy when we have breakfast).

Which path are you following?

Sometimes the illogical path may be worth taking.

Back to Weird

Posted on by Carl Weber

We are all a little weird.

We have weird little hang-ups, issues, perspectives, routines, methods, ideas, or mannerisms.

We see the world in a different way that feels weird to the average person.

We were told to try to be more normal. To go with the crowd.

We were compared to the average.

We were encouraged to be more like someone else.

We stopped doing that weird thing.

We stopped having those weird ideas.

We stopped that weird belief that we could make a difference, make an impact, make the world a better place.

Sometimes we get shaken up.

Something happens to shift our world.

We start to long for our lives to return to normal.

Sometimes normal feels like the easy or safe option.

Am I trying to get back to normal?

Nope, back to weird.