Recently, I asked a client who their hero is, or who they really admire. This person was truly stumped in choosing someone they placed in such high regard. They are not alone. So, is it important to have someone you admire, or even aspire to be like? I often explore this very issue when working with a new client. You see, their role model, hero, or whatever you like to call this person, gives me a feel for their values. I’ve had a wide range of answers, from presidents, historical and biblical leaders, to entrepreneurs, politicians, sports people, celebrities, spiritual gurus, everyday samaritans, and even family members (I get this one a lot)! Whilst others seem to really struggle to think of their hero. This raises the question whether it’s necessary to have this figure in your life?

Let’s start by exploring the origins of the word “hero”, which dates back to Greek mythology. It referred to characters who, in the face of danger and adversity, display courage and the will for self sacrifice, for the greater good of humanity. However, we now depict everyday people as heroes, or role models. So whilst the word has evolved over time, so has our need to identify with one.

“As you get older it is harder to have heroes, but it is sort of necessary.” – Ernest Hemingway

One of my personal role models growing up was Madonna. Not sure if I put it so articulately in my early teen years, but what I admire most was the fact that she’s self-made, has re-invented herself countless times and continues to push the boundaries, whilst entertaining the masses in the process. Madonna is tenacious and does not give up easily, despite having faced public ridicule.

When you break down the individual elements, her raw voice alone is far from the best in the game. However, she’s a ‘personality’ who has that equivocal “X” factor that sells albums and fills concert stadiums. I’ve used pictures of Madonna on my vision board to inspire,
and sometimes run by the motto “WWMD” (What would Madonna do?). This tool could be applied to any successful person you admire, when in need of some guidance. For one of my religious clients, it’s “WWJD” (What would Jesus do?); so clearly your role model doesn’t need to be alive, it’s about finding what works for you! Is Madonna my hero? Probably not, but she’s certainly someone I’d think about when in need of inspiration.

Interestingly, a number of male clients rate entrepreneurs by the likes of Richard Branson as the type of person they aspire to be more like. Sure, there’s no doubt he’s a savvy operator who’s reaped the financial rewards of his business acumen. But it’s also his calm, cool facade that’s often cited, along with his fearless approach to taking risks and breaking new business ground.

If I had to come up with a hero, rather than simply a person I admire, it would be someone who’s significantly contributed to society. Perhaps a humanitarian, or public figure like Oprah. I recently discovered I have a few things in common with Oprah. We both share a passion for helping others and have the same MBTI (Myers Briggs Type Indicator; http://www.humanmetrics.com/cgi-win/JTypes1.htm). Whilst this may be all we have in common, it somehow enough to give me the boost I needed to keep plugging away at my coaching practice. You see, I ditched the corporate rat race, familiarity and comfort of a stable income, to take a risk and honour what I’m truly passionate about. So, whilst I took all the steps required to get here and sought the help and advice of other professionals, it’s also nice to have a few role models up your sleeve, to utilise as one of many motivational tools.

‎”Everyone has a calling and your real challenge in life is to figure out what it is and start doing it”- Oprah

So I pose the question: “Who’s your hero?” And how can you use them to inspire you?

What personality traits, skills or attributes do they possess that you admire?

What could you do to be more like this person?

Why not try it for a week?

I’d love to hear how you went. You can email me at ua.moc.gnihcaocdenutenifnull@anoiF

Fiona Wainrit, of Finetuned Coaching, is a Results qualified Coach, specialising in career and life transitions. Contact her today for a complimentary trial coaching session on 0411 424 440, or visit: www.finetunedcoaching.com.au

Like me, you understand just how convenient and nice it is to work from home.  We have total control over what we do, when we do it, how we do it, etc.  There’s nothing better than being in your own environment, tapping away at the computer writing, painting, creating or doing whatever it is that you do for work, and getting lost in it.

How beautiful it really is to tap into real productivity, and be on a role with your work.  It’s all coming to you so effortlessly, as though it’s happening subconsciously.

But then it all changes with the phone ringing.

“Dammit!” you might think, but your thought is quickly overtaken by a positive possibility.  “It might be a new client?”

This positive approach gives you that boost of energy needed to step away from that cozy place of creativity that had you on such a role.

You answer your phone with expectation and hope…only to hear it.

It being the pause and the silence

Your heart sinks and you prepare for the inevitable line that will follow from the caller on the other end.

“Hello?  Hello?  Is that the owner of the house?”

Or words to the effect that scream at you: Yes, this is a marketing call!

Now I don’t know about you, but I have days when my response to that question – or its annoying, disappointing equivalent –  varies between any of these:

• Super nice, conversational and somewhat hopeful: “Yes I am, how can I help?” I’m thinking that maybe, just maybe there’s something that might be of interest or use to me.  Mind you I can probably only think of one time in my entire life when it has, but hey.  This might be one of those rare occasions.
• Sympathetic and conversational: “Yes, that’s me.  How are you going?” Let’s face it: the job of a telemarketer is really, really terrible at times.  I mean, think of all the rejections they get, the abuse, the hang-ups.  When you take the sympathetic approach, you’re friendly and let them down slowly – you give them a chance to at least introduce themselves and what they’re about.
• Friendly, resigned to the fact but a giver of hope: “Hi, how are you going?” Followed by a pause to let the caller respond and introduce themselves, followed by you saying, “I’m really not interested, but I’m sure you will talk to somebody soon who will be.  Have a great day!” After all, they are people just like us who want to have a great day, just like us.
• Friendly but concise: “I am, but I’m really not interested.  Thank you!” It’s a numbers game telemarketing and I know it is difficult, so in this approach I figure it’s best to be friendly and just tell the caller outright that I’m not interested.
• Silent treatment: In other words, say nothing and hang up.  That’s not really considered rude is it?  I mean, I haven’t said anything terrible – even though I might have had a crappy day – and I’ve allowed the telemarketer to just move onto the next number on the list to call.

I figure too it’s okay to say nothing and hang up, even if you’re having a good day.  After all, I just see it as getting myself off the hook and back to that beautiful place of productivity…and allowing the telemarketer to do the same.

And if I’m having a bad day, I just figure to take the friendly but concise or silent treatment approaches outlined above.

As annoying as a telemarketing call can be, I just think, best to keep things feeling nice and positive…and spreading that around.  Even to telemarketers!

What do you guys think?

A good friend sat me down the other day, gently handed me a drink and said the words no-one, man or woman, ever really wants to hear.

“We need to talk about something.”

Good heavens, I thought.  It’s bad enough coming from a boyfriend or husband, that, but when it’s a friend, it is almost worse.

I waited, and she took a deep breath, and told me what, apparently, “people” had been wanting to tell me for a while.

I’m letting myself go.

Before I could protest, she pointed out a few unavoidable facts: since I have been working from the comfort of my own home, it is true that I have embraced the “comfort” part of the equation with enthusiasm.

I was never one for fashion, and it was with reluctance that I dressed corporately when I was working “out there” in the city. I eagerly clung onto the idea of Casual Fridays, and felt that the saving grace of working on public holidays was the fact that I didn’t have to don the stilettos and slap on the face of a normal working day.

Now that I don’t have to do that, my uniform consists largely of shorts and a singlet. I try and fit all my meetings with clients into the same one or two days, to minimise the amount of times I have to “dress up”.

Slovenly? I prefer to think of it as embracing my natural self. But, apparently, it had been causing concern in some circles.

My friend told me I was in danger of becoming one of those women who forgets to take off their slippers to go out to the supermarket, and that in fact I may see benefits besides looking better if I was to make like I was in a proper office every now and again. Try it, she pleaded, if only for a week.

So I did, and, much as I hate to admit it, the nay-sayers may have had a point. Shallow though it is to admit, it’s amazing how much some lippy and a nice skirt can do for your sense of professionalism. Suddenly I sat up straighter, worked harder, and, yes, felt better too.

So be careful, work-from-homers: there is a reason for all that power-dressing after all.

I once read a book called Yes-Man.  Not the same story as the fairly mediocre movie with Jim Carrey, although it worked on the same premise.

It told the true story of the writer who, when he found himself in a rut, and refusing every invitation or opportunity which came his way, one day decided to say yes more.

All the time, in fact: his saying-yes adventures made up the bulk of the book, and it has really stayed with me.

Although saying yes could potentially get you into some unsavoury situations, and perhaps making some unnecessary purchases which might cause friction with your partner, it is, for the most part, a nice little philosophy to carry around.

Say yes if you are invited to dinner but you really feel a bit tired and fancy a lazy night at home; if you are asked to attend a new class at the gym, join a book group or sign up for a fun run.

If you are asked to do some work for free, to help someone out, you might not get the dollars, but you’ll feel pretty good – say yes!

I try to do it on a balanced scale – maybe 70-30. This allows me not to take the Scientology Personality Quiz or attend negative gearing seminars, but sees me taking part in things, and trying things, I may never have tried before.

I have almost doubled my social acquaintances, formed a handful of really close friendships, and have a great feeling of well-being since doing so. And I may have a bit less time to spend lying on the couch, staring into space and thinking about my future country house – one of my favourite things to do – but I have found a way to overcome this too.

I have two email accounts: personal, business.

I merely need to email one account from the other, with the question “Why don’t you go and lie on the couch, stare into space and furnish your future country house again?”

And, as I have undoubtedly already said no to a telemarketer and a door to door salesperson selling “a better deal on your phone bill” (there is no such thing), and thus used my “no” quota, I can only say yes, and off to the couch I go.

I love finding a win-win situation.

Most of the time, meeting up with clients, potential clients, or business partners is a real joy. It’s always exciting to brainstorm how you can help each other and work together for the best mutual outcome, and learn tips from each other. (Let’s face it, in the world of small business owners, there seems to be much more camaraderie and a willingness to help than in the colder, corporate world.)

But sometimes, it just doesn’t click. You might find you see things completely differently, are not on the same page at all, or simply don’t gel on a personal level. Myself, I know that there is a certain stage I reach – and have reached at least twice in the past four months – when I sit back at a meeting, and think, this is not going anywhere. How do I get out of here?

It’s kind of like a first date.  The other person might be fine on the surface, but dig deeper and the signs are there he simply isn’t a fit, and you suddenly want to be at home, watching Lost with a glass of wine in your hand.  Maybe he is rude to the waiter; eats with his mouth open; gets loud and sweary after his third beer – whatever it is, you know this interlude now has a line drawn firmly underneath it: not to be repeated.

Business meetings are the same, and the only answer is really upfront honesty. I have, in the past, due in large part to my feeble nature, sat for over an hour and a half listening to a man rave on about a project I didn’t really believe in, pooh-poohing any advice I offered, and, basically, listening to the sound of his own voice.

By the end of the meeting, I am sure we both knew we wouldn’t be meeting up again – but what is the etiquette here?

Should I have stretched, stood up, offered a hand to shake, and said, “Sorry pal, I think you’re a bit of a lunatic and this is wasting our time?” Should I have stuck it out for another meeting, rowed, fought my corner and possibly come up with a compromise that worked for both of us?

Or was my way – gritting my teeth, smiling, and both promising we would “be in touch” before slinking away thanking the heavens it was over, really the only way to go about this?

Any help to share with me and other readers would, I am sure, be gladly appreciated.

Ahh, guilt. It never, ever goes away, and as a person born with a massive guilt complex, I know how painful it can be.

I feel guilty constantly, about everything, to everyone. If I work a lot during the day, I feel guilt towards my child – playing happily beside me. If I spend hours snuggling with her and gazing at her lovely face, I feel guilty that perhaps I am a Bad Worker.

If I don’t have dinner on the table, or the house is a mess, when my partner gets home from work, I feel guilty: if it is spotless, I feel like maybe there isn’t enough to occupy my time (granted, this one doesn’t crop up much).

There are the general women-issue guilts: working too much or too little, spending too much or little time with children and family, not losing weight quickly enough, losing it too quickly, spending the day in PJs every now and again – that list goes on forever.

Then there is guilt for eating something calorie-laden, guilt for feeling like a killjoy when refusing something calorie-laden, guilt for sleeping in instead of power-walking, guilt for power-walking instead of cuddling your partner or kids….

We just cannot win, and it goes on forever.

I, and many of my friends, constantly convince myself that everything which happens in my world and that of those around me which is negative, is somehow my fault entirely. I can spend a long time dreaming up convoluted ways to lead sad stories right back to me and some mistake I made back in 1999.

Is it just me? Or do we all do this? I can’t help but think it is the latter, as “I’m soo sorry” and “I just feel terrible..” is a familiar refrain among my female friends. I am the kind of person who apologises to someone who crashes a trolley into my leg at the supermarket, and while not everyone is so extreme, there is certainly an unfair level of guilt out there, and I would love to know why.

Are we spreading ourselves too thinly, feeling that we are never quite 100% in the moment? Probably. But what choice is there? We can hardly cut out big chinks of our lives – the guilt would be overwhelming.

I can only suggest we give ourselves a break and relax, but then I couldn’t practise what I preached. In fact, I have been pondering on this for far too long now – there’s a toilet to be scrubbed, and frankly, I feel terrible that I have whiled away this time at the computer…

We all have our dead-cert methods of winding down, de-stressing, making all the bad stuff go away.

For some it is a glass of wine, for some it is six; for some, a hot bath, or music, a long walk, or a vigorous gym session. Chocolate, a whinge to a partner, a good bitch session – all these things are par for the course when it comes to making ourselves feel better.

But why do we need these things? We need, often, to remind ourselves that there are still, despite the horrendous day we might have just had, good things in life: Cold wine can still calm fractured nerves, a good sweat can let out tension and anger.

For me the source of tension and stress is, most often, work-related: I love my work but I am a perfectionist and an impatient one at that, and we all know that sometimes it does seem as though you can slog away constantly and never see proper results.

It differs for us all – it could be family issues, it could be issues with yourself, or just a bad mood or a blinding headache. Whatever it is, it is so important to have an instant therapy: something you can focus on that, at the end of the day, you know will make you feel better.

One of my biggest revelations when it came to what made me feel better was when, heavily pregnant, I had to travel to a three-day seminar – at the end of day two, I felt it had been a waste of time so far, and after two 13-hour days, and a train journey home, I was on the verge of breaking point.

My partner picked me up from the station and took me home, and literally all it took to make all the teary exhaustion disappear was a cup of tea made by him and a snuggle with the cat.

Pathetic? Probably. But since then, I have known the healing powers – for me – of tea, a cuddle, my own sofa and a cuppa – if I get one, I feel better, if I get all four, I am ready to take on the world.

What is your instant cure-all? If you don’t have one, you need to find it, and you will be invincible – or as invincible as we can ever hope to be. And then there will be no stopping you.

I like to think of myself as a fairly disciplined type of person: I stick to deadlines, get things done, drag myself out of bed for an early morning workout (occasionally), and generally avoid letting myself get pulled into the tempting, delicious world of slothfulness which I have always found so appealing.

Operating a small business has strengthened my self-disciplined muscles, by putting me in a sink-or-swim situation: you want money, work; you want to be lazy, you don’t eat this week.

But therein lies the rub.

Eating.

Without me even realising it, working in an open office where lunch was consumed at desks and snacks were shared curbed my natural urges when it comes to food – basically to not stop eating, ever, if possible. It would have been too embarrassing to keep sneaking into the kitchen to bring back snack after snack.

Being at home, there is no such societal norm, and, during the day, no partner to realise that this morning there was a full pack of Tim Tams, and at 2pm there is none.

Being a serial dieter (aren’t we all?), before leaving my office job, the thought had crossed my mind that I may succumb to the temptation of a kitchen very close by, but I managed to mentally shrug off any thoughts of Constant Snack Syndrome (CSS).

Yet here I am, just a few months later, and more than a few kilos heavier, wondering what I can do about rampant CSS.

The experts tell me to clear the cupboards of anything tempting, but they do not have a partner with an exceptional metabolism and an almost childishly sweet tooth. Aside from getting him a separate fridge, with a padlock to keep me out of it, what am I to do?

There is a pre-job snack; nibbles for when I am doing a job; and a completed-job reward snack. That’s aside from morning tea, lunch and afternoon tea.

How do I cease this, before I become too big for even Rubenesque to adequately describe me?

I always loved the image of being a mum who baked, rosy-cheeked, while effortlessly running a business and remaining serene and cheery – and, of course, petite. But now, frankly, the though of baking, or rather what it means for my hips, is terrifying.

Maybe I really should consider the padlocked fridge idea..

It’s so tempting, isn’t it?

So tempting and so much easier than going to the GP.

I’m talking about Google Medicine.

Type in a few symptoms – headache, tiredness, and irritability – and a person can be surprised to find she has all the symptoms of pregnancy, or a young woman alarmed to see the signs of dementia are showing in her.

We all know internet medical diagnosis is a bad idea. We all inwardly roll our eyes when a hypochondriac friend says urgently of her latest ailment “But I Googled it and the news is really bad!” But do we still do it? Of course we do!

And it’s bad for everyone: bad for us – paranoia ensues, along with a mysterious heightening of symptoms almost as soon as we read the bad news. Bad for our partners – they are suddenly expected to be sympathetic to an almost-certainly life-threatening illness which they know will be gone in a matter of days.

And bad for business – once you start Googling, you can’t stop. You know you should really be working on that account, chasing up these phone calls, returning these emails – but how can you when you are finding out so much crazy information about your frighteningly fragile state of health?

A much more productive way of utilising the web, of course – and one less damaging to the business – is typing in questions, problems, or issues you are facing and seeing just how much support there is out there, how many people have been in the same boat, and how they figured out their problems.

It’s much healthier than making Google your stand-in GP, and just as addictive.

I have recently been down and out in a big way for nearly 10 days, I was ordered to bed rest. I was bored; I felt like the world was ending and demanded sympathy from my family. My Google Medicine self diagnosis included

• Pancreas Cancer
• Gall Stones
• Perforated Ulcer

You can all stop belly laughing now please.

Turns out I had a very bad virus to start and then on top of that a received a case of Gastroenteritis thrown in for good measure.

So guess what..

I have weaned myself of self diagnosing on Google, I have to say, it was getting out of control.

I have, instead, taken to Googling my own weaknesses to see how many articles or blogs have been written about them, so that I feel less alone. Example – I may type in “eaten a whole carton of ice cream” or “can’t be bothered to exercise” or “obsessed with gossip websites”. Voila! A million people are in the same boat as me, making me feel much better and continuing my slovenly lifestyle (relatively) guilt free.

I have my own style of time management: wait til the pressure is really on, then sweat and work frantically to meet a deadline. I love it, I thrive on it. I advise others against this yet I cannot help myself.

It’s probably not the method recommended by experts, psychologists, or those people who turn up on TV from time to time telling us how to balance our lives – but it has worked for me for many years.

From cramming for school exams, to meeting deadlines at my first job, to getting more relaxed and cruising by until a day or two of intense work to meet a presentation deadline at my next job – right through to now, when I will potter around the house, a silent tick-tock in my head until a deadline really looms. Then it’s all go.

It’s the same with Christmas – all the presents are bought in the week leading up to it; birthdays, mine and other people’s: parties and presents will be planned in the hours leading up to the big day; and even petrol: I always, always wait until the red light is on before bothering to fill up.

I know people who are horrified at this lax attitude, who have things planned weeks in advance, stick rigidly to schedules and panic if they fall even slightly behind.

Who is to say what is better? I don’t know, but I do know that after a recent bout of conscience, I decided to organise my life and work ahead of myself. It was brought on by a TV talking head who said procrastination cost businesses, working under pressure undercut quality of output, and a range of other blah-de-blah things I can’t quite remember, but which sounded suitably scary at the time.

So I drew up a timetable, and decided to work in advance of myself.

Big mistake. Cue hours spent at my desk, gazing into space, feeling vaguely guilty. The result was that not only did my work STILL get done at the last minute, the time I spent sitting at my desk staring into space took away from time with my family, getting caught up on household tasks and correspondence, and drumming up new business.

Verdict? Whatever gets you through the day – we all have methods to our madness, and who are these “experts” to tell us otherwise anyway?