Every morning, the very first thing I do (other than tell my woman I love her), is have a conversation with myself.
I get my pen (a Pilot G2 #7 in black, thank you very much) and my paper (El Cheapo legal pad in yellow), and I just start writing.
I never know what I’m going to write about or where I’m going to end up. The whole point is to just let my psyche connect with the physical act of writing and try to get my internal editor as much out of the way as possible.
In my conversation this morning, I realized that I have a thing for online content marketing. Like, it’s something that I gravitate toward, that I do anyway.
I have ideas for cool domain names. I grok the basics of traffic building and lead pages and conversion funnels. I already have chunks of social management systems that I use for my own accounts.
I already do this stuff.
The thing I don’t do, that I’m not good at, is being in it for the long haul. Patience is not my strong suit.
I always stop building the thing before it has a chance to get going.
I register a domain name, whip up a WordPress site, post some content, make a couple social media accounts, tie it all together, post some content, and sit back and wonder “Why don’t I have traffic? It’s been like two days!”
I’m in the process of building a new thing. It’s been a month (shut up; it’s New Math). I’m in the “I need to back-fill all this content to support my marketing efforts / I have to write another post about what?” mode. When I looked at my analytics yesterday, I had five visits to the page for the day. I assume they were all from me.
It’s time for me to hang in there, to get another cuppa, to take a walk and come back, to do whatever it is I need to do to be here for the long game. Because I realized another important thing this morning:
This is a year of foundation building.
This is a year of setting myself up to get what need and want in the future.
This is my year of patience.