sara mcguyer – Page 7

Comfort and Joy

This year I am particularly struck by how comforted I am by the sameness of holiday traditions. Being one wired for innovation and continual improvement, I’m normally energized by change. But after a year of lots of full-speed-ahead change, the rituals of the season are a welcome rest.

I love that when we go to Louie’s mom’s house, we will be greeted by bungee Jesus. We just know he will be there, all aglow in the front yard. At my mom’s, there will be bubble bread. We will watch the same movies, rehearse lines we’ve said a million times before. I can listen to Jingle Bell Rock and O Holy Night thousands more times and not tire of it.

This post is part of Think Kit by SmallBox

Prompt: “A Dash Of Thanks. What are you thankful for? Maybe it’s from this year – or maybe it’s something in your past that resonated with you recently. And – we hold people, places, and things in equal regard: a sense of gratefulness can take many forms.”

For Wheel

A few years ago when Indy Film Fest started the Roving Cinema program, we really had no idea what a huge hit it would be, and what crazy corners of the city it would take us. The idea was simple: let’s show movies where the should be. And so we screened Big Lebowski in a bowling alley, Strange Brew at Sun King, Fight Club in the City Catacombs. Some of these screenings have sold out months in advance, sending a loud and clear message – people love these events.

As an all-volunteer organization, we didn’t necessarily think about the long-term needs of a program like this. Thanks to the 5×5 grant win from the Central Indiana Community Foundation, Christel DeHaan Family Foundation and the Efroymson Family Fund we were able to purchase a screen and sound equipment, allowing us to screen films anywhere. The city is our theater. Getting there is another matter…

We’ve had to depend on volunteers with big vehicles to transport the screen and sound system to all of our events. It’s a lot to ask. We’ve decided it’s high time to purchase some wheels to help the cinema rove.

If you can chip in, give here.

Then next time you come to one of the fest events across the city, you can revel in the fact that you helped make it happen!

This post is part of Think Kit by SmallBox
Apple Of Your Eye. You’ve ranted. You’ve raved. You’ve freestyled, soapboxed, and even waved a magic wand or two. Today, let’s keep it positive. Who (or what) is doing something good? Share a story of your positive action, whether it’s a favorite charity, foundation, or nonprofit – or just an individual whose penchant for do-goodery makes you feel all warm and fuzzy.

Cleaning Digital House

I remember thinking the Mailbox app for iPhone was just genius. Archive an email in one quick swipe? So awesome! Until I realized how often I was archiving useless junk. With each partially absorbed headline, each swipe, a precious piece of head space evaporated. In hindsight, Mailbox might have enabled hoarding a lot of stuff I just don’t need cluttering my head.

Today I turned to Unroll.Me in a moment of exasperation (a.k.a swipe city). I’d heard of this service before, but never made the time to run it. It clued me in to some pretty startling numbers. On my personal account alone I’m subscribed to 227 different email lists. How in the world did I hoard so many email subscriptions? Well, the truth is, I didn’t. My name and email are listed as a contact on a blog I sometimes write for, and unfortunately it gets abused by people who decide to just sign me up for their lists.

Today I’m having frustration of the What took me so long? variety. It’s pretty infuriating to think of all of the stolen moments I could have spared, put towards something more productive. Sometimes when we’re the most buried, it’s hardest to dig out and do the simple things that will set us free. But I am resolved to using this holiday break to get my digital house in order.

It took less than five minutes to scan and sort my account through Unroll.Me. I unsubscribed to 121 emails. 65 subscriptions will be merged into one daily digest or “rollup” I get in the morning. The rest, the stuff I really care about will come as usual.

I’m thinking a lot about SmallBox’s rally cry to make space, and how I could have personally done a better job with this. I got a new computer earlier this year and I never properly set up my files. My desktop, once a pristine mecca for art or photo backgrounds, now, a wasteland of all kinds of files, downloads and screenshots. I need to set up cloud storage. Just as I slacked on trying Unroll.Me, I’ve had tentative dates with LastPass and If This, Then That all year.

My first response to things like “make space” are pie in the sky, theoretical. I’m a strategist. I can’t help it, it’s the first place I go. But now I’m getting tactical. What are your favorite productivity app and organizing tools?

This post is part of Think Kit by SmallBox
Prompt: “Chef’s Choice. Today, we’re keeping it wide open – we want you to write. Write the thought ringing in your head this morning. Write what you can’t forget. Write what you want to remember about _____. Write the everyday and the extraordinary. Let Frank O’Hara be your guide.“

Tiny Squirrel

I first heard their strange chatter just north of 75th on The Monon Trail. I had no idea what I was hearing – it sounded like a monkey, or something else that wouldn’t logically be perched in a tree in the Midwest. I noticed their loud sounds many times while I was on long runs before I finally spotted one: a tiny squirrel. At first I thought it was just a baby squirrel, but then I realized they were distinct from the typical backyard variety I’ve known since I was a kid.

I mentioned them to several other people, especially runners who I knew would have traveled along the Monon where I’d had all of my sightings. I got the same reaction every time: No way! I’ve never seen one. Are you sure?!

I was starting to doubt it, even though I’d spotted them several times. When I moved to my new house, I was in for a real surprise. Not only do we have lots of these little guys running around our yard, but at least one has made our garage home. It hauled probably 30 lbs of walnuts from the tree in the backyard into an empty cardboard box in our garage. Pretty impressive, actually.

I’ve managed to get some photos, so I can stop feeling like the crazy one. These tiny squirrels really do exist!

This guy managed to get into my bird feeders!

This post is part of Think Kit by SmallBox
Prompt: “Ooh! Aah! What surprised you this year? Was it a jump-out-of-your-seat shocking moment? Learning something new that really flipped your wig? A moment in time that left you speechless? A friend or stranger’s actions that really blew your mind? Leave us slack-jawed and standing silent…or at least thoughtfully quiet for a few seconds!”

Last Chance

Today I am on the fence about what to write. Daily posting combined with holiday prep has pushed my brain into a strange tightness. It isn’t often I’m faced with such blankness.

Tomorrow I wake up early. It will be cold and dark as we head to White River State Park for the Santa Hustle Half Marathon. It was the last chance for me to meet my goal to run one full and one half marathon every year, so long as my body is able.

I originally planned to run the Monumental Half in November, the second of my two planned races for 2014. I was just about to register when a really exciting client project came up that required facilitating a board retreat that same Saturday. It was such a great opportunity – it was a no-brainer for me to skip the race and search for a new one to run by year’s end.

The facilitation took place in The Ralston Room at the Alexander, which just so happens to have three walls of floor to ceiling windows, and a great view of the Monumental course. I felt a small pang as I watched those runners go by, knowing my husband and many friends were part of that throng.

But tomorrow will be my turn. I will meet a goal I wasn’t sure I’d be able to tackle. I’ll run long and hard and breathe in the cold air. If there’s any one thing that will open my brain back up, it’s a good long run.

This post is part of Think Kit by SmallBox
Prompt: “Wishy-Washy. It’s true, we like you a lot – but let’s be noncommittal for now. It’s okay to be unsure! What are you on the fence about? Dig into the meat of both sides. Is it a big deal? A minor quibble? Are you leaning one way…or is the extended forecast just one big gray area? Yes – we’re telling you not to make up your mind!”

Sound Bite: Fire

Earlier this year, I started collecting sounds. I don’t really know why – I didn’t have any plans to use them for any purpose. I captured things like rain or bird song, recorded with my phone, and just left them there in my voice memos. The only one I posted somewhere: a crackling fire.

This was the last fire we had in our old house before we moved. I can listen to this on end, get lost in the pops and cracks. What I really love about this sound is this: when we build a fire, we’ve committed to slowing down, staying put.

This post is part of Think Kit by SmallBox
Prompt: “Insert Theme Music Here. Strike up the band – what was the soundtrack to your year? Was it the music you listened to the most? A certain song that kept reappearing, or worse…that you couldn’t get away from? Or maybe it wasn’t music at all – maybe a podcast, voice, performance, or significant sound played over-and-over. Whatever you heard: we’re all ears!”

Finishing

The polar vortex really got in the way of my marathon training this winter. The skipped training runs mounted. I failed at my first attempt at twenty miles, then my second. I’d managed a grueling 18.9-miler, but I knew it in my heart. I wouldn’t have been prepared for a flat marathon, much less the Flying Pig in Cincinnati with its steep and plentiful hills. I wasn’t ready.

In the days before the race, I waffled back and forth. I’d think, Maybe I should just try, one minute. No way in hell, the next. Some of my runner friends said a lot of people only train up to 18 miles, so I was basically already there. A very stubborn part of me just couldn’t let go – I don’t like giving in once I’ve set a goal.

The deciding factor came as a surprise. Louie offered to run with me. We don’t run together much. His pace when he’s pushing hard is a good three minutes faster per mile. I never expected him to throw a marathon to take it at my pace.

While I had resolved to attempt the whole thing, I also knew there’d be a fork in the road. The turn off where the half-marathoners go one way, and the full folks go another. I’d have this one out, if I felt like I needed it.

On race day, when we hit that point in the course, I was still feeling good. I made eye contact with a spectator, a woman who was cheering her heart out, encouraging me, this random stranger. As I took the path toward the full marathon, I welled up with emotion, feeling proud that I hadn’t taken the easy way.

Then there was a brutal series of hills. Somewhere around mile 16, a steep hill completely shredded my legs. The reality of ten more miles to go punched me in the gut. My pace started dropping off. Louie moved into cheerleader mode, trying to keep me moving and motivated.

I was slow and achy between 16 and 22 miles, and stopped at every chance for water or Gatorade. The next four miles were a bit of a blur. I noticed my eyes felt heavy, the lids near closed. As I shuffled along (because you can’t really call what I was doing running by that point), I was biting at a fingernail. I remember thinking:

Is my mind drifting? Am I losing it a little bit? Why am I biting my nails now, of all times?

I don’t think I was really losing it, but I do think my body was in the early phase of shutting down.

As we got closer to the end, Louie grabbed my hand, squeezed it. It woke me up a bit. He said the finish line was near. I argued with him, No, I don’t see it! During that last leg of the race, he didn’t let go of my hand while we sort-of ran. I remember hearing a woman say, They’re holding hands. I love it.

Crossing the finish line is always emotional, but this time it felt bigger. I felt carried, not by my own two feet, but by Louie’s energy and love. His hand holding mine lifted me up. I know this is why I was able to finish.

After the race, we had a mile walk back to the car. I felt good. I can’t explain how I went from on the brink, to being okay, just like that. I had to fly to California for business the next day. Despite a car trip back to Indy, a very early flight, all of the travel – I was fine. My muscles weren’t even the slightest bit sore.

This post is part of Think Kit by SmallBox
Prompt: “+ / – Have no fear – no numbers needed here. Who (or what) made a difference for you this year? Were they cognizant of their effect? Did it add to your life…or detract? Was it a momentary encounter? A year-long helping hand? Someone who took a chance on you, or vice versa? What would’ve changed if you’d had to go without, or go it alone? Imagine the alternative scenario.”

The Fruit Bin

The day we moved into the house, we found the blueprints on the mantle. The neat pile had been left for us by the former owners, the ones who said, This house has good karma. Five weary, yellowed scrolls. We unfurled them one by one, revealing the original plans for the bungalow when it was built in 1926.

This is our third home. It’s not the oldest (our first will likely always have that honor, having been built in 1831) and not the youngest (our SoBro bungalow was four years younger), but it’s the first for which we’ve had these artifacts. Something about having these plans make ownership feel more serious, more like stewardship. We’re just the fifth owners, and we’ll likely still live here when the house turns one hundred.

I’m so grateful for those four owners who tucked these brittle papers away into a safe place, and found it right to leave these with the house when their time in it ended. It is because of their stewardship that I know to call the storage room in the basement the “fruit bin.” I love this little detail – it feels like a secret I’m not supposed to know, something I’ve been let in on.

Now it’s or turn to be the caretakers, the keepers of the fruit bin.

This post is part of Think Kit by SmallBox
Prompt: “Let’s Get Physical. Time to go through your (actual) desktop, junk drawer, or coat pockets and share an artifact from your past. A half-torn ticket stub, once-washed receipt, coffee-stained map, anything in a frame: it’s all fair game. What springs to mind from your artifact? The smells, sights, and sounds? A specific feeling? Hold it in your hand, close your eyes, and go back in time to a moment.”

Automagic Meeting Manager

Dear inventor-types of the internet,

I have a very special, super important request. You know that whole thing where you ask people how they’re doing and they say Busy!? Well, I’m here to say that it’s true.

A lot of people are really, really busy. Occasionally, some of those busy people need to meet in places to talk about things, and scheduling it can be an absolute nightmare. Am I right?! It’s really the only part of my job that I don’t like, and the one thing I often say is the hardest thing I do.

All I really need is for some magical, all-knowing being to detect the first sign of a meeting suggestion, and immediately swoop into action synching and cross-referencing calendars. Once a time and place is found, this being (a purpose fairy? Siri?) can book the time and place, notifying all participants via their preferred calendaring systems. Automagic meeting manager to the rescue!

While we’re at it, I have a few feature requests. It would not be bad if the automagic scheduling fairy made sure everyone had clarity on the purpose of the meeting. Another cool feature (maybe after the beta version?) would be a BS meeting detector that beeps and flashes and warns you that you might be scheduling an unnecessary meeting. It could even give helpful hints like, Try a quick standing check-in, or This seems like a time for an old-fashioned email thread!

No big deal. Just a simple platform. You guys are already coding this up, right?

This post is part of Think Kit by SmallBox
Lifeline prompt: “Make It So. What one technology do you hope becomes a reality in 2015? Is it helpful? Revolutionary? Or just plain cool?”

No. 1 Word

On the way into work this morning, I heard a radio story about Merriam-Webster’s word of the year. That word? Culture.

The word is chosen based on total volume and percentage increase of searches online. They mentioned multiple uses—from the classroom, to pop culture to company culture—all contributing to the uptick in seeking out this word.

Culture is something I think about every day in my job, whether it’s how to foster healthy culture at SmallBox as we grow, or how to consult with our clients as they look to improve their own. From where I sit, I hear questions about culture all of the time. What is culture? What do we really mean? I’ve noticed some companies try to reduce culture to a picnic or other perks, hoping these things alone will create long-term cultural change. It’s so much more than that.

Merriam-Webster defines it this way:

cul·ture

noun \’kəl-chər\

: the beliefs, customs, arts, etc., of a particular society, group, place, or time
: a particular society that has its own beliefs, ways of life, art, etc.
: a way of thinking, behaving, or working that exists in a place or organization (such as a business)

This is the meaty part: “thinking, behaving.” Culture for companies is all about how we view the world, and the way our beliefs are brought to life. It’s how a group of people behave when they come together to form a greater sum.

I’ve come to think of core values as one of the best tools a business has for culture building. I don’t mean the kind that an executive went into a black box to write, then post on a fancy plaque. I mean values that were inherent in the business, the kind that people are reviewed on and given praise when they model them. Values can serve as an incredible lens for decision making, becoming a sort of moral compass for the organization. Will this help us be more collaborative? More ______? (Fill in the blank with your own company values).

I love that culture emerged as the word of the year. If it just gets a handful of executives at major companies to think about the work environment they’re creating, then that’s a big win. Year-round I conduct informational interviews with employee prospects, students, recent grads. My own experience is very in line with the increase detected my Merriam-Webster. People are clamoring for workplaces where they can be themselves, find meaning. The chorus has reached a fever pitch: “I just want to be in a place with a good culture.”

This post is part of Think Kit by SmallBox
Prompt: “Lucky Numbers. Time to get mathematical – and yes, you may use a calculator. Was there a significant number in your year? A birthday? A first? A personal record? A date now carved in the annals of time? A number that represents a streak, whether winning or losing, good or bad? A bellwether or a lagging indicator or just…three.”