Wow time sure does fly! The Practice Abundance Course opens to students from March 17th to March 20th, er, that’s two days away!

So just a quick post to point you to the sneak peek resources in case you missed them.

You want the complete course outline? You got it. Here’s all the information about all the goodies we’ll be learning over the next three months.

And if you’re wondering how this whole online course thing works, and what kind of support it includes, well that’s right over here.

Those of you who read the blog know me pretty well by now, but for you new readers, this is where you can find out all about who I am and decide if I’m the kind of person you’d want to learn from.

If you think you might be interested get on the list to be notified when we open for enrollment. I’m only taking on a small number of students this go around, so if you think it might be for you I’d mark your calendar.

THE LOVE:

Over and over again here’s the story I always hear from wellness practitioners about why they decided to study what it is they currently practice: One day it occurred to them that if they ever truly wanted to party with Lindsay Lohan and Paris Hilton that they would have to A. have a job that made a TON of money and B. have a job that was sexy and flashy enough that all the VIP clubs would want to take them straight to the front of the line and comp them all the overpriced champagne they could drink.

So, with that goal in mind they sat down at a desk and made a list of all the jobs that would fulfill both requirements A and B. Turns out acupuncturist, massage therapist, naturopathic doctor, yoga teacher, therapist [enter your modality here] wound up being at the top of the list, so off they went to school and upon graduation they started partying with spoiled celebrities and lived happily ever after…

Sound familiar?

No.

Exactly. When you decided to study whatever it is you practice some part of your being- your heart, your body, your gut, your mind, your spirit, or perhaps all of the above- called out to you and said, “Yes. This.” and you dove into it not for any promise of what life would look like after graduation, but for the love.

And it was easy to bask in the love while you were in school. You were surrounded by like minded people who shared your same passion and you were all diving headlong into work that was coming straight from your heart.

But I’ve found that after graduation things change. There’s still the love, of course, but it often gets silenced by a sneaking and very unpleasant feeling that you’re now in the business of convincing people to pay you. Which sucks. It’s hard to love that feeling.

I think what happens is a version of “deer in headlights” syndrome. There you are, basking in the glow of a concentrated period of time spent with colleagues just gleefully geeking out on what you love about what you do, and then you come back to Earth. Where not everyone knows just how endlessly fascinating fascial anatomy, or Udayana Badhna, or the joys of using intersection needling points can be, and so you wind up feeling like an arm-twister.

What are you supposed to say to potential clients? “No really! This work can change your life! Just hand over some money and you’ll see- it’s amazing!” Depending on the tone you’ve become a used car salesman at best and a cult leader at worst. And so you retreat. You hope that your love for your work and the tremendous value it has to offer will shine through, but you’re not sure how to get the word out without feeling like a sleazoid.

THE PROBLEM:

Our schools, while great at teaching us how to be highly skilled practitioners, seem to be at a loss about mentioning that we need to actually know how to get clients through the door (i.e. manage to pay our bills doing this thing we love so much and are really pretty good at.)

Don’t get me wrong, I love our schools for creating places where more and more generations of practitioners can be trained to positively impact the world. I love, love love that. I adore it. Really. However, I also wish- forgive me for my bluntness- that they would take their heads out of their collective asses and find a way to give this skill set to their students before graduation (really, honesty give them what they need, not mess around with telling people useless things like, “You should have a business card.”)

And so here’s my rant. I recently received an email from an acupuncturist where she told me about how her school constantly repeated the mantra, “In 5 years, 50% of you won’t be working as acupuncturists anymore” to the students. That is all. They never followed that sentence with one that started, “so here’s how you can avoid being a part of that 50%…” Gee thanks guys, the future’s feeling pretty bright now! Here’s my tuition check- or shall I just flush it down the toilet!? To the schools I would like to respectfully say: Don’t take our money, put us through your schools, tell us how we’ll likely fail, and then send us out into the world with no attention paid at all to how we might avoid becoming the aforementioned statistic.

What is wrong with this picture? Why are they such defeatists? What do they think the awful statistics are about? That people who studied acupuncture don’t actually care about acupuncture? That acupuncture doesn’t actually have much to offer people? That they tend to have lazy or flaky graduates? Or could it maybe, just possibly, be because people who love what they do and are committed to sharing it with the world enter that whole private practice thing with little to no idea of how to do that successfully? Maybe? Ya think? Ok, rant over.

AND SO…

In general I find that complaining about what other people should be doing is an ineffective strategy for creating positive change. I can’t really think of many times that straight up complaining got anyone very far. Imagine if Rosa Parks only complained loudly and ceaselessly amongst her friends about how unjust sitting in the back of the bus was, without ever plopping herself in the front of that bus and thereby claiming her own power to make a change? The former strategy wasn’t likely to change history. The latter? Pretty effective.

Ok, so I’m no Rosa Parks. I think that’s fairly obvious. However, because of my own experience of struggling through my first three years in practice and then falling in love with practice building (no one is more surprised than me…) there does happen to be one thing I can do to make some change. I figure if I can pass on the tools and create a place for a supportive community of complementary and alternative medicine providers to gather, then maybe we’ve got a shot at changing the lame statistics. And if we change the lame statistics, then we’ll have a lot more practitioners around and a lot more people getting the help they need.

And so I built the Practice Abundance Course. It’s an online course that is the result of nearly ten years in practice, starting three practices from scratch, one ebook, one mega manuscript for a printed book, a year and a half blogging about practice building, and lots of conversations with practitioners who felt just as helpless and hopeless as I did when I was starting out. I designed it to be the FULL course that our schools left out, coupled with community warmth and support.

It will be open to new students from March 17th to March 20th (kicking it off between St. Patrick’s Day and the first day of spring seemed fortuitous enough…) and I’ll only be taking on a small number of students this first round. The soonest it would open again is this summer, so if you think this might be for you I’d get on the list to get all the delicious freebie information about it that I’ll start sending out this week.

Happy practice building!

Every once and a while I have an epiphany that I’ve had maaaaany times before, and I realize that maybe (just maybe) I should listen to it this time.So what was it? “Do the stuff you’re good at and hire others for the stuff that they’re good at, so that you don’t waste your time on learning curves that you don’t care about.”

It sounds so simple, no big deal right? Well underlying that epiphany was the more crucial, “The little part of your brain that is terrified of change- the lizard brain- will shape shift in any way it needs to in order to stop all progress and make you think you are sane for doing so.”

Let me back up a little bit. On January 14th to 15th I was in New York City to go to a Triiibes event (a two day meet up of those of us who are on Seth Godin’s social network, Triiibes), and then to grab dinner with Seth himself and the rest of the Triiibe (!), and go to his first talk about his new book, Linchpin. I read Linchpin on the train ride down and then lived and breathed the ideas in it for two very inspiring days. If you haven’t read Linchpin, first, go get a copy. Second, here’s a very brief synopsis of the ideas that I’m referring to in this post:

Here’s what Seth’s book is a call to action for: Do work that matters, solve interesting problems, connect, create, lead, give the world a gift (preferably several)- in other words, be a linchpin.

Here’s what’s holding us back: First, you don’t have to be a worker drone for the industrial era/capitalist machine anymore, but unfortunately it is what you were trained to be in school. Schools evolved to create complaint workers. (”Color inside the lines!”)

Second, your lizard brain, otherwise known as “the resistance”, is the first part of our brain that evolved millions of years ago. Its main concern is keeping you safe- so it fears ALL change like it’s a life or death issue, and takes any steps it can to stop your progress.

So I leave New York feeling full of clarity and excitement since I also happen to have this big project brewing that I want to launch in March. What perfect timing! I’m finally putting all I’ve learned from my 10 years in practice, blogging here for over a year, one mega manuscript for a printed book, one free ebook, and many conversations with my fellow CAM providers about their own triumphs and trials into one master place: an online course and community on how to grow and sustain a practice that not only pays your bills, but also feeds your spirit.

Yup, it’s a biggie (more info to follow in my next post…) and I’m feeling pretty confident that my fresh perspective on the lizard brain will keep it from interfering in my course. I’ve got your number lizard brain! This project is going to launch on the day I promised it would launch and no little internal saboteur will get in my way!

Turns out I’ve gotten very good at spotting certain signs that I’m being controlled by the lizard brain. When I spend an hour at the computer constantly cycling between checking my email, Facebook, and Twitter- the lizard is in control. When I start off working on something essential and 15 minutes later I notice that I’ve gone down some rabbit hole and am doing something pointless like cleaning out my sock drawer- yup, lizard brain. And when I keep complaining about how crazy busy I am (I’m a single mom! I have to keep my practice afloat! I need to write on my blog! I’m trying to launch this big thing!) and yet, somehow, I miraculously find time to hang out with my friends and to never miss an episode of 30 Rock? Lizard brain.

Honestly I’m in awe at how much progress I’ve made since reading Linchpin. It’s amazing how much less time things take when you separate out the pointless time wasters from the meaningful work.

This is where my lizard brain went undercover and got me.

Lizard brain (in disguise as sane brain): “Well you know Brooke, if you’re going to build this thing you might as well do it right and build the whole thing on your own from scratch this time. It’ll save you money and you’ll learn a lot about the technical details.”

Brooke (thinking this is her sane brain): “That’s a great idea! I’d feel so accomplished and proud of myself, PLUS then I’d have an excuse to waste endless hours on some crap that I don’t care about and am no good at, which will keep me from doing the important stuff. Thanks, sane brain, for helping me to find a loophole to get out of all this progress I’ve been making!”

Yeah, it didn’t go so well. At the end of all the frustrating time spent trying to understand CSS I had exactly no website, and lots of time lost on the important stuff that I actually enjoy.

Lizard brain: 1
Brooke: 1

For now it’s a tie. I’ve hired the lovely Taryn Wallis over at Phenomenoodle to set up some of the stuff I’ll need on a platform that I know and love (Wordpress). Time to keep it simple. Thanks to Taryn for seeing my distress flags on Twitter and reaching out- glad to have you on my team.

For the rest of you, dear readers, where can you get help on the stuff that’s not your strength and save yourself the angst already?

And- most importantly!- where is your lizard brain shape shifting and keeping you from doing the important work? How can you get back to it?

Parting tip one: my lizard brain and I have been talking lately as in, “Hi Lizard Brain, I know you’re scared and threatened and all, but I really don’t think I need to check my email for the 20th time this hour. I’m pretty sure nothing important has come through. But thanks.” It’s working (for now…)

Parting tip two: The single best time management technique that I’ve found is the Pomodoro technique. It’s what’s kept time wasters at near zero, and I can make progress without feeling like I’m beholden to some super complex organizational/time management protocol. It’s simple and it works like a charm.

I’m a big fan of growing your practice in a way that’s a fit with your personality. One of my core passions is that we should get rid of our imagined unpleasant practice building activities and ask ourselves to get a wee bit more creative. If you hate public speaking couldn’t you start a blog? If you hate dropping cash on some ad, couldn’t you introduce yourself to your community in other ways?That said, I got on my “you don’t have to do the practice building activities you hate” soapbox after a couple of disastrous attempts that I made very early in my first practice.

Hilarious “What the hell were you thinking” story # 1:

Enter Brooke’s deluded internal voice:
“Hey Brooke, I know you detest public speaking and you get all freaked out and deer in headlight-y even at the thought of it, but why don’t you go on down to that meeting of local chiropractors (none of whom you’ve ever met) and give a talk on just how great Rolfing is? You know, because you get nervous and shy in front of groups of people you’ve never met and you’re a new grad whose ability to talk clearly about the benefits of Rolfing is still working itself out? Doesn’t that sound great?”

And here’s how it turned out:
A group of men who’ve all been in practice for, and known one another for, eons meet up and are sharing that warm familiarity that this kind of history brings with it. Everyone is asking after everyone else’s kids, inside jokes abound, you get the idea.

I show up, the 25 year old woman who’s just moved to town and recently graduated from The Rolf Institute and I timidly (barely) introduce myself to the group.

After they all get seated and their friendly banter dies down, I clear my throat, flush bright purple, begin shaking and sweating, and squeak out a few words about Rolfing. I can’t remember for the life of me what I actually said, but I can assure you the gist went something like this, “Rolfing is really great. And it probably is beneficial alongside chiropractic. And I like it. You should too probably. I just moved here and I don’t know anyone and I don’t have any clients and I’m dyin’ out here guys so if you could please make some clients magically appear on my doorstep I’d be really grateful. They’d be sure to ask you why you sent them to this weird nervous girl, but still, it would help me to eat this month. Thanks.”

I wish I could track down one of those guys so that they could attest to the fact that I am in no way, shape, or form exaggerating here. It was that bad. But I can’t track them down because, bizarrely, none of them ever referred to me or spoke with me again.

Hilarious “What the hell were you thinking story” # 2:

Enter Brooke’s deluded internal voice:
“Hey Brooke, I know that chiropractic talk was awful, but this time one of your clients actually invited you to this gathering of local people/political fundraiser type-deal. Sure you’ve never met any of them before and you still get nervous surrounded by strangers and that whole debilitating shyness thing takes over, but I’m sure this time it’s gonna be great! These people are going to be so psyched that you showed up with so many business cards to hand out!”

And here’s how it turned out:
I do get some points for progress because at least I wasn’t giving a presentation on Rolfing. But I was there to talk it up, so I timidly mentioned to everyone that I met that I had a new Rolfing practice in town. That is, until the saucy lady with the dramatic gestures heard the word “Rolfing” from across the room and started yelling towards me, “Rolfing! Rolfing! Oh my God!” (This was not in a delighted or happy tone. Her tone skewed more towards horrified.)

You haven’t met this lovely party-goer before, so you don’t know just how commanding and over the top her gestures are. So I’ll tell you this, she now had the attention of literally everyone there, and they were all forming a circle around her. Once she had everyone’s full attention she then began telling them exactly what Rolfing was all about: “It’s like you’re a chicken being de-boned! It’s awful! It’s practically abuse. Horrible! Horrible!”

Now folks, first off, um this is not true. But Rolfing has this old school reputation for being intense (we’ve evolved, seriously) so by now I’m used to the occasional outburst like this (but no where nearing the fevered pitch of this one). These days when the Rolfing-is-so-painful storyline comes up I can laugh with them, talk about it, and soon everyone is giggling and at ease.

But back then? No. I was super sensitive and terrible at rolling with this kind of thing.

She polished me off by asking me what I was thinking moving from Boston to open a practice in Sonoma- implying with very little subtlety that Sonoma didn’t take kindly to outsiders on their turf.

I drove home crying. Good times.

Ok, so I have good reason to preach about taking on practice building activities that feel like a fit for you. That one was learned in the fire.

However, sometimes it’s worth expanding the old comfort zone a little. Sorta a good tip for life in general, I think. It’s been many, many years since those experiences and I recently found myself actually considering teaching a workshop at my favorite local yoga studio.

The problem is, when I sat down to think about what I’d be saying to all the people who would show up for it, I drew a blank. Rolfing is experiential, yet I couldn’t exactly tell a room full of 30 people that they’d each get a session in the 2 hour workshop.

I finally hit on a compromise that allowed me to get in front of a room of people again, but to do it from my strength- i.e. introducing people to my hands and my quality of touch, not some blah, blah, blah about why they should want to pay me for Rolfing.

My dear friend Ellen Lenson teaches an amazing restorative yoga class, and one bonus of restorative (among its many) is that people are in supported, passive poses for long periods of time. Just the kind of thing that’s perfect for a little touch!

I asked Ellen if I could assist her in her class by giving her students a little hands-on work in their poses and she was game. So last Wednesday I got in front of a room full of 30 people and introduced myself as the new Rolfer in town for the first time since the two California debacles (it only took 9 years, but whatever…)

And it was great! Just a short little “this is who I am and why I’m here” intro and then I got to connect with people in the best way I know how- by working on them. The result was that I gave out all the business cards that I brought (they were requested, not foisted upon people), I have one new client who has already come in, and had a lot of really lovely and thoughtful conversations about Rolfing with some of the students after the class.

I’ll be there every Wednesday now, challenging my “stand up in front of a group” fears, and easing in to some new practice building skills.

What could you do to widen the comfort zone circle a bit?

2009 has been very good to me, and before the clock strikes 12 tomorrow night I wanted to send you all a brief shout out of gratitude for all your support this year. Spot the ways you helped me (and you) to thrive this year:

1. You read Practice Building 101 and/or the blog and sent me delicious emails to let me know how much it helped you. Spectacular words like “lifesaver” and “THANK YOU” (yes, in all caps), and “joyous” were used, which made me feel like my work is worth something, and that is pretty much the best feeling ever.

2. You emailed me to tell me how delighted you were to find The Well Practice after Googling the words “HARO” and “gyrotonic” together. This may be the funniest search engine word combo to lead to my door thus far.

3. You embraced me as your Rolfer in New Haven thereby giving me good news to report on the blog from the ‘practice building in a crap economy’ front. This had the additional perk of saving me from having to report that I was a failure. Whew.

4. You shared my writing with someone you know who could benefit from it and sung The Well Practice’s praises. (Most recently big thanks to Burton Kent of Acupuncture Clinic Marketing. I finally solved the mystery of where all the new acupuncturists were coming from when one of your readers emailed me and told me you’d shared a link with your list. Thanks!)

5. You (Jenn Givler, Honora Wolfe, and Dan Clements and Tara Gignac) wrote fab guest posts!

6. You are one of the following people whose work inspired the hell out and kept me moving forward. Huge thanks to Seth Godin, Lissa Boles, Chris Guillebeau, Jonathan Fields, Havi Brooks, Naomi Dunford, Hugh MacLeod, Melissa Pierce, and Vanessa Scotto (who is amazing even if her website isn’t link-able yet).

7. You turned one year old on October 17th! (You being my blog)

8. You sat across from me over Indian food, or a latte, or in a park, or over the phone, and poured your heart out about what you really needed to be happy in your practice.

9. You gave me this nifty “thank you as a list” idea in your charming Christmas card.

10. You don’t know this, because I haven’t bared my soul to most of you in a moody cafe or anything, but you helped me climb out of the rubble of a very, very challenging 2008 by showing up here and caring about what I had to offer. Thank you.

And last but not least, here were the top posts of the year:

Feeling Grateful (and Hearing Voices)

Un-Guru

Non-Sensical Panic Attacks

Kicking it Off On the Cheap

Practicing Radical Generosity

Why Does the Word “Networking” Make Us All Want to Shower With A Brillo Pad?

Happy New Years! Sending you all lots of love and happy practice wishes for 2010!

Hi all! This is a guest post from the good people over at Alternative Health Practice- Dan Clements and Tara Gignac. Check them out since they’re also doing great work to help us all thrive in our practices!

There are a lot of names for what we do in practice – alternative, holistic, complementary, integrative. But behind the labels, we all have one thing in common: we’re trying to help others. The catch, however, is that in order to find those people who need our help, most of us have to make some effort to market our services.

Sometimes, though, the very thing that makes many practitioners so good at what they do – their ability to connect with and be sensitive to others -  also makes them very, very uncomfortable with the idea of marketing. Behind many of the questions we get from practitioners is a common theme: I’m shy/introverted/timid/reserved. How can I  promote my practice?

To answer that, let’s start with a few key truths about practice marketing for introverts:

Introverts Have an Advantage

So you’re an introvert. You’re inward-looking. You prefer the company of yourself, or a close interaction with one other person. You’re insightful, a good listener. All these things, as it turns out, make you a kick-ass practitioner, too. What no one may have told you, though, is this:

The same things that make you a great practitioner can make you a great marketer, too.

Not only is being an introvert not a flaw, you also have a unique set of advantages, well-suited for health care and health care marketing.

• You Listen Better – One of the greatest complaints about lousy salespeople and marketers is that they don’t listen. You’re telling them you want green, but they keep sticking red in your face over and over. As an introvert, odds are you’re a better listener than your extraverted counterparts. That means you stand a chance of actually hearing what it is your prospective clients want. What’s the biggest sales technique you’ll hear over and over in sales training? Listen to your prospect. It turns out that you’re a natural.

• You Get Others Talking – It may be that you don’t like to be the center of attention, or it may be those great listening skills, but whatever the reason, introverts have a knack for keeping others talking. That gives you a much better chance of hearing about a health concern or a subtle detail that might never come up otherwise. It means you learn far more about prospective clients than anyone else.

Introversion Isn’t a Character Flaw

We live in a culture that tends to value extraversion. Don’t buy in.

If you tend to be energized by time alone, and a little introspective, you’re in good company. Bill Gates, Warren Buffet and Steven Spielberg? Yep – all introverts. Who says introverts can’t find a little success in business?

And remember, just about everyone feels the way you do at some point. You are neither broken nor alone.

Introversion and Extraversion Aren’t Permanent States

Introversion and extroversion are one continuum. We move around that continuum depending on our environment and experience. While there are genetic components to personality, they are, as with most things, not the whole picture:

Even a broad category such as introversion is like Silly Putty once life gets hold of it: a “genetically shy” child whose parents gently encourage her to get herself into the sandbox and mix it up with other kids is more likely to outgrow her shyness by age 12 than a shy child whose parents take her trait as a given. <source>

Instead of thinking yourself as flawed because you’re nervous about getting out there, think of yourself as inexperienced. We don’t blame kids for not being able to ride a bike, we just support them as they learn. You should cut yourself some of that same slack, and go easy on the labels.

Extraversion Isn’t Bad

For many, the idea of marketing a practice isn’t the fear of the actual act of say, networking, but a fear of becoming an icky extravert. That stems in large part from our stereotypical view of the marketer as the deceitful used-car salesman in the plaid jacket and snakeskin boots.

Just as introversion doesn’t mean “loser,” extraversion doesn’t mean “phony.” You can adopt aspects of extraversion without compromising your integrity or losing your personality.

You’re Already Marketing

Those great client skills of yours? Listening, reflecting, connecting, empathizing, assessing, diagnosing, prescribing and teaching? They’re the hallmarks of exceptional salespeople. The ability to truly connect with another person, understand their problem and provide the perfect solution? That’s all sales and marketing is. You learned it in school, and you’re doing it all the time, but no one ever told you. So I’m telling you right now: you’ve been marketing all along. You just need to get comfortable with the idea of expanding your audience a little.

But How?

Here are a few tips to ease your transition.

to read the rest of the post, hop on over here…

Oh it is so easy to lull oneself to sleep.

So a few months ago I announced to all ya’ll that I would be kicking off practice number three and regaling you with tales of the tactics I used to grow the aforementioned new practice. I imagined much trial and error- lots of goodies for a blooper reel- and some shining successes. However, the thing about doing something the third time over a span of nine years means that my radar for what will or won’t work is pretty well tuned. (It only took nine years…)

So the grand experiment started well- too well. After sorting through all the minutiae that comes with starting any practice (finding an office, getting licensed, building the website) and running one big old promotion- things were really hopping! I had, and have, a full practice full of delightful clients.

And very little to write about on my blog in terms of real-time experimentation in practice building.

Like you- I don’t particularly want to spend gobs of time on the growing of the thing when I am, in fact, already doing the thing. Especially when the other nooks and crannies of my time are veeeery full with raising my wee one, some work with other clients, and a mega overhaul of the The Well Practice going on behind the scenes (the grand unveiling is probably about 4 to 6 months away- so stay tuned- it will rock. Oh yes, it will rock.)

However, unlike you I’ve commited to being a practice building guinea pig and I’m a full blown practice building nerd (we’re a very rare species). So it’s time for me to rouse myself from my slumber and up the ante. I have loads of practice building experiments in mind that I can (and will) run. These are my upcoming commitments to you with more to follow:

I will:

• Go old school by running a full-blown flyer campaign. That’s right! Paper tacked to bulletin boards! I live and work very near the campus of Yale- so it’s kind of a flyer town. I figured I’d go super low tech and see what happens.
• Put a Rolfing ebook for current and prospective clients up on my website for free download (aaaah, some tech deliciousness).
• Get myself on Yelp and perhaps a few other directories (more tech deliciousness).
• Advertise. Wow, I never thought I’d go for this one again. The last time I ran an ad for my practice was about nine years ago and it wasn’t just a dud of a failure- it was a mind-blowing failure. (story to follow) so I’ve been pretty allergic to the whole ad thing. But so many people do it that I’ll give it a shot and report back.

And you will? Let me be your guinea pig?

All (reasonable) suggestions for practice building will be considered. I’m not going to walk naked through town with a sandwich board for Rolfing- but if you throw some ideas my way that you’re curious about trying, or that you have tried with limited to no success- I’ll dive in and give it a try and report back.

Who doesn’t love having their own personal guinea pig? Go ahead and email suggestions or leave them in the comments section. Let’s get this party started.

I’m not usually the type to dedicate blog posts to people. This isn’t the great American novel, after all. But these people have been such glowing examples of teaching as they learn, that I have to give a shout out to them for their inspiration in writing this post. If you haven’t yet discovered Lissa Boles, Chris Guillebeau, Mark Silver, or Jonathan Fields (and especially this gorgeous post of his that was so moving to me) please go discover them.

I have to come out of the closet on being a wee bit uncomfortable with the “practice building expert” role that I’ve stepped into. Yes, I feel like I have the experience and know-how to effectively (and passionately) teach people how to grow their practices. And yes, I have a deep desire to turn my experiences into something tangible and useful that can contribute to other people’s lives.

What I don’t have is the desire to guru-ize myself. And when you step into a role as a writer and a teacher, there’s this funny underlying pressure to adopt the guru track.

Let me clarify. There are real gurus in the world. By “real gurus” I mean spiritual masters who are kind enough to be patient with those of us who are behind them in our own evolutionary paths. People who are worthy of a devout respect.

The kind of guru I’m talking about though are the false gurus we see everywhere. The people who are eager to step into the “I have this all figured out” role and who want to step on that stage and preach to you about how you can be as “empowered” as they are. They fan the flames of their own egos and work hard to convince the people in their audience that they are worthy of the pedestal they’ve put themselves on.

This kind of guru- who usually has little to no spiritual message but more often preaches about making dollar signs appear in your life- is so ubiquitous now that the idea that anyone should ever be on a pedestal goes largely unchallenged.

The pedestal says, “I’ve completely figured out what you seek to learn.” I’d like to argue that there is no official, concrete endpoint of figured-outness that we attain. In short, the pedestal is bullshit.

If we’re honest and awake to life, we’re always on some new learning curve. Teachers are people who may be ahead of you on any particular trajectory- whether that be growing a successful practice, having successful relationships, or any number of other things that we seek to learn- but they aren’t finished learning.

Without the admission that  we’re still on that trajectory with our students, we get lost in this flashy ego place. Worse, we stop learning because we decide we’ve arrived at the endpoint and we stop engaging.

In truth, there’s always the missteps, the bumbling around, and the epiphanies that come along with life and learning. Don’t buy the “I have it all figured out” guru message that we all get sold. We all learn from one another at our different stages, and we just keep on keeping on.

And so, in the spirit of un-guruing myself, here’s what I had going for me that allowed me to grow a full practice in a month:

Preparation.

Yes, it all boils down to one very un-sexy word. Lately this is the A number one thing on my list of what’s needed for success in anything. Which kind of sucks, because it’s not all the flashy things that we’re told we need (especially in America) like charisma or a a will of steel. And it requires a lot of patience. And work. The myth of overnight success and riches is, well, a myth.

My preparation for this particular endeavour came in the form of nine years in practice, and this being the third time I’ve started a new practice from scratch. So much for overnight success. My ability to grow a full practice in a month wasn’t really about that month, it was about the nine years that preceeded it. 

That means that this time around I got to skip all the wandering down alleys that are dead ends. I cut out so much of the wasted time, the heartache, and the confusion simply because I’ve done it before and figured out what works.

I knew how to pick a town that would enthusiatically greet a Rolfer, I knew how to pick the right office location and the right office mates, I knew how to grow my referral network I knew how to make a website and how to write great copy to attract my ideal clients. I knew what the hell an ideal client was, for that matter, and that I would talk directly to them. All this stuff I learned, slowly, drip by drip, over many years.

On the other hand, with this website and related projects that I’m working on to shine a big ol’ light on the holistic health world, I’m four years into what still feels like a new learning curve (The Well Practice hasn’t been up for four years. But the preparation that got me here has been four years and counting).

In this I’m still that person who is wandering into alleys that have dead ends. However, these days I can look way down that street and see the brick wall, whereas before I would have kept walking until I smacked into the brick wall. Only then would I have noticed that I should turn around and walk aaaaall the way back, nursing the big lump on my forehead. So that’s progress. I don’t fear brick walls as much any more- each lump on my forehead taught me something new that has allowed me to keep moving forward.

Fortunately and unfortunately, there is no over the rainbow. Keep stumbling, keep learning, that’s what we’re all here for. That’s where the juciness of life is. I’ll be stumbling into alleys and epiphanies right along with you.

So here I am, a wee bit more than a month after hanging out my shingle for my new practice, and I have the lovely opportunity to be intentionally wrapping up my one big consulting job (aka, the thing that pays my bills) so that I can add more appointment slots to my Rolfing week- because, go figure, the ones I currently have are all filled up. Yay! I’m such a rock star! I win!

Except for the, “Oh no! What if I screw it up! I. AM. FREEEAAAKING OUT!” panic attacks that keep bubbling up to the surface. Somehow actually completing the one big job, and then leaning heavily on my Rolfing income to support myself and my son, has hit all these little trip wires of worry.  

For example, one of my totally delightful new clients called me the other day to cancel her next three appointments, because she wants to wait to proceed with her Rolfing sessions. That one little hole of time in my schedule sent me into a tizzy of fear. Suddenly I’m thinking that I also haven’t had a new client call in two whole days. Dear lord, that’s trouble.

I know if you haven’t had a new client call in two months that you’re glaring at me through this screen. And you have my blessings with this- I did mention that these were non-sensical panic attacks. The reality is that I’m rocking it in my new practice, I do know a bit about how to grow this thing, I’ve been in practice for nine years, this is the third time I’ve started a whole new gig from scratch, and the second time that I’ve done it really quickly and with a ton of success- so (pardon the teen text-ese) WTF? What I realized is that it’s just plain scary- this whole private practice thing- no matter what.

If this is your first practice, and/or you’ve been working at it for a while now without leaving the day job- it can be downright terrifying. So why not enjoy the safety net for as long as it lasts? Because at a certain point the safety net becomes a bonafide net. Um, the kind used to trap fish and small animals. All of our abilities to grow are dictated by the amount of space we give whatever we’re trying to grow. We’ve just gotta create space for the things that matter. You can’t expect a plant in a pot that’s too small to become a towering mass of luscious greenness- it’s going to slow down to accommodate the pot it finds itself in.

With all this mixing of metaphors of small pots and nets (I can feel my high school English teacher mournfully shaking her head), you’d think I’m a fan of the leap before you look philosophy. To this I can only say HELL NO. I lived the leap before you look philosophy for a long time and while I learned a ton and have no regrets, I also suffered way more than I had to. I find life to be better when I minimize the suffering I am in control of, because we don’t get to control these things all the time. Looking to see what kind of leap you’re taking (off a 30-story building? into a thorn patch? into a clear beautiful lake?) is one of those issues where we can use a little foresight to minimize our suffering after we land. Like anything, it’s all about balance. Not so safe that you’re growth is stunted, not so fearless that you’re reconsidering your leap as you pass by the windows of the 30 stories that were below you.

With that, here are some tips for leaving the safety net:

• Transition incrementally:  If at all possible, gradually decrease the amount of time spent at the day job as you gradually increase the amount of time spent at your practice. You can try negotiating with your boss to see if they’re open to you slowly cutting down your hours or dropping a day. You can also just slowly add days when you’re at your practice (which I realize makes life very full for a while) and then drop the day job when you’re ready. Having the opportunity to actually experience paying your bills more and more on your private practice income is invaluable in slaying the fear demons.
• Figure out your bare minimum number: Figure out the number of clients you need each week just to meet your living expenses. When figuring out your monthly living expenses don’t forget to add everything in there- how much to you really spend on groceries? What are you paying on monthly memberships for things? No one is looking over your shoulder shaming you for still carrying that gym membership. Cutting down your expenses can be super useful, but for this exercise get the real number of what it costs you to live each month. Also remember to subtract your practice expenses- office rent, supplies, laundry, etc from the amount your bare minimum number brings in. For example, my bare minimum number is seven. For me, seven clients per week equals $3360 a month, minus expenses, which brings the number to $2800 per month. At $2800 a month I can meet my bare minimum for living (and I have ruthlessly cut my expenses, so this number is low for most).  The bare minimum number serves only as a panic button that lets you know to up the ante with your practice building activities once you’re fully reliant on your practice to pay your bills.
• Figure out your freedom number: To know what number you need to leave the day job, you’ve got to use the bare minimum number as a springboard. These two numbers should not be the same number. Remember, the point is for us to minimize suffering here- no need to leave your job only to scrape by. So, how many clients do you need to leave? The easiest way to do this is to take your bare minimum number and add half that number to it. Double it if you’re security minded. That makes my freedom number of clients per week somewhere between nine and twelve. I’m working with twelve in my mind- and I’m only making eleven slots available each week- this takes into consideration that everyone won’t see me weekly, and adds some padding for the ebbs and flows. Keep in mind that I do still have this little site here, and part of my transition back into private practice is to free more time for The Well Practice- so my numbers are low because of my work here, and also because as a bodyworker I can only see one client at a time.  Be sure to figure out your own numbers- this is absolutely not one size fits all. Lastly, remember that once you’re out on your own, you don’t have to freak out when you drop below your freedom number. It’ll happen. Just use these parameters to know when you need to fan the flames of your practice.
• Embrace the reality of fear: I still think Susan Jeffers said it best with, “feel the fear and do it anyway.” There is no such thing as the absence of fear when making big transitions (unless you’re mentally ill) so just remember that it comes with the territory, and isn’t necessarily a sign to stop in your tracks. The reality is that there is no such thing as security, but since we humans seem to endlessly seek it, this can be a bummer. However, when you embrace the fact that fear will show up as we navigate the big stuff,  you can choose what’s best for you- rather than what society tells you is the officially “safe” way to go. In truth, there is no safety (we can see this clearly in our current economy, all my friends who compromised their passions for “safe” jobs are now scrambling)- and frankly, I’d rather rely on myself than an employer to create my income. With an employer you never quite know when the rug could suddenly get pulled out from under you- as noted by all the rug-less people these days. With yourself, you have your panic button number that tells you to kick things into high gear, and your own efforts to rely on to get the magic happening.

This grab bag of handy dandy tricks is helping me a great deal as I make the leap. Other essential goodies for me are meditation, movement, and honing the internal compass (in other words, listening to my gut). Byron Katie’s The Work, also always helps me out tremendously, and I’m currently reading Emotional Bullshit by Carl Alasko. I haven’t finished it yet, but so far I’m a fan and I find it’s a good resource for knowing your own core needs, and clarifying healthy boundaries. What are your life rafts? I’m always game to add new resources to my staying sane library.