I was recently in a LA/NYC hot spot – a true den of trends – where it felt like the team, earnest as they probably are, said yes a little more than no. Apart from wool-vested, man-bun clad bartenders and suspender wearing, Japanese denim-adorned waiters, they had somehow captured every interior restaurant trend of the past ten years, in 3,000 square feet. Macrame? Check. Distressed wood? Check. Subway tile? Check. Repurposed shipping container? Check. Faux-industrialized materials in every corner possible? Check. I saw Austin, Brooklyn, Portland and Venice – bundled up into one unedited concept.

Every writer, every designer, everyone, everywhere, benefits from an editor. If I could have an editor every time I publish this blog, I would, and typically I have a very good one edit my work before clients see it. Writers benefit because we can’t discard what we don’t know is in the way. We can’t replace ‘meh’ words with better words when those were the words that seemed best when we wrote them. Editors have a perspective that sees the good, replaces the less effective, and removes the rest. They de-clutter. They see the mission and make sure you’re meeting it. All creative endeavors benefit from such a person, but it’s hard to for some of us to admit it because we mistakenly see their participation as an intrusion on something sacred.

In my role as a brand strategist and writer, I often wear the hat of creative director as well. Overseeing design means I see what’s working, and what isn’t, and support the designer to land in the right place. It doesn’t mean I can design – I can’t. And it doesn’t mean I know more than she does – I don’t. But we all want the best work, and that usually requires a healthy tension between the first version and the third.

Editors are essential.
Find a good one.
Then, let them take your precious ideas, concepts and manifestations – and force a focus, a distillation and a commitment to something better.

Because it almost always will be.

The Rate of Return usually measures how quickly you get back what you put out. You spend $ABC on Facebook ads and get XYZ number of impressions. It’s the gain or loss on an investment over a specified time period, expressed as a percentage of the investment’s cost. But (snore)… let’s simplify it and make you care.

I often think about ROR with an additional metric. When curve balls come, and they do, how long does it take you to regain consciousness? How many minutes, hours, days, weeks, months…does it take to find your balance again? To return to yourself and center? We all invest in people and projects that feel hopeful. When they don’t embrace us back, it can feel pretty chilly at worst, and a waste of our time at best.

Ideally, this process gets shorter and shorter. A meditation practice, a physical movement routine, a connection to something beyond yourself, usually supports the efficiency of the path back to your skin, your sanity – the truth that keeps your finger off the trigger. A little perspective also helps. “This has happened before, it will happen again, and I’m still here,” is one way to get into fast agreement with a rough moment.

The deepest wounds are usually around relationships, and how we feel appreciated / regarded / understood / seen and respected. And so often, the other person or people involved have little clue to their impact.

I’m chagrined at how slowly I’ve pivoted when the writing has been on the wall. But, you don’t know until you know.
And then, you know.