Last Friday evening, my four-year-old daughter and I had an impromptu daddy-daughter date - something we do every now and then when my wife has a work engagement. We decided to have dinner at Mills Market, our neighborhood restaurant where we can sit outside for hours chatting with our neighbors, and the food is an afterthought. Mills Market has become our spot over the last year, so there is a feeling of comfort there that my daughter and I have when we visit. They know us. We know them. They know our dogs. It’s one of those places that serves average food, but would be missed more than a premium steak house if they moved.
Like most Fridays, my mind was drifting away from the week and transitioning into weekend mode. During most weeks, I basically do three things: work with clients to help them increase their sales; create content – whether writing posts like this or building a new methodology of teaching our concepts; and network with potential future clients. I am constantly thinking and sinking into that world of creativity to figure out the next best thing – the next best way to help my clients bring their marketing and sales efforts to the next level. I must admit that most weeks I get wrapped around the axel in detail. Although detail and granularity are two of the unique benefits we bring to our clients, I sometimes get too caught up in them. Sometimes I make things harder than they really are. And that’s what my daughter taught me last Friday.
After hanging out and playing with rocks for about 30 minutes after dinner, she asked me if she could give her prize rock to a little girl on the other side of the patio. I proudly obliged and walked with her. She cautiously approached the girl, who was probably a year or two older than my daughter, extended her arm, and quietly offered: “You can have my rock.” Although the pause was maybe a third of a second, I went through a thought process of her being rejected by the older girl and never wanting to socialize again, living miserably alone with my wife and me until we passed. Then, the other girl accepted the rock, and gave my daughter a hug.
The day before this dinner date, I had conducted a day trip to see a client to strategize with their sales team on turning around 2017. I left the house for the airport at 4:50 am, and I arrived back home after midnight. I prepared as much as I possibly could, understanding reports and data, considering the experience and personality of each of the sales people, and racking my brian until it hurt to help develop action items to get them pointed in the right direction. I did all that work and put so much stress on my brian during our meetings that it really did hurt. Not my head … my brian actually hurt. On my flight home that evening, I was proud of our work together. Exhausted, but proud. They’re going to turn this thing around pretty soon.
In the meantime, my four-year-old daughter walks across a restaurant and offers another little girl a rock.
Isn’t that what our craft of selling is all about? Don’t get me wrong. Everything we’ve preached for seven years about the world of buying and selling is completely valid. The concepts of becoming the perceived expert in the marketplace, creating emotional engagement and making your point of contact your best salesperson, offering multiple avenues for the market to absorb meaningful content through digital market, etc. – all of this is still valid. But if we forget to proactively walk across a room, introduce ourselves to a complete stranger, and offer them our prize rock, then we’ll never be great at sales.
Get out there. Meet other people in your market place. Offer them something. Become their advisor and friend. Then, and only then, are the concepts that we teach going to help make you one of the great ones.