- Are you worried?
- A little bit.
- But you’ve had this done a couple of times before. You know it’s not dangerous.
- I know. I am not concerned about something going wrong. I don’t even mind that funny feeling I’ll get in the next couple of days from that camera going into my throat and down through my chest and stomach.
- So what’s the problem?
- It’s the anesthesia, I answered, I hate waking up from it. I feel that I am being pulled slowly from a dark abyss, and I get nightmares and say creepy things to people around me.
- “Well. Let’s skip the anestesia then,” My doctor said with a confident smile
- What? Are you serious? That would be painful, wouldn’t it?
- Not so much. It will be uncomfortable. But instead of making it less uncomfortable, you’re not going to remember anything about it.
I looked at him with interest and suspicion. “Go on,” I said

Do you check your email first thing in the morning? Do you answer your phone when it rings? Do you reply every message and tweet you receive?

If so, you might be sacrificing a lot more than just your time and focus; When you do these things, you are playing your role in the selfless game.

It’s a mutual game that we’ve been playing for decades with our families, friends, teachers, managers, and spouses. And the rules are simple: we are expected to answer other people’s requests, and we are greatly rewarded with praise and approval, and with the comfort that others will also do the same for us. Failure to play by the rules might cause others to feel ignored or unappreciated, which may lead them to treat us the same way in the future.

The problem?

Last Saturday, I had the opportunity to tour the U.S. Olympic training center in San Diego. Two resident athletes walked me through the facilities, the training process and their lifestyle. Before the tour ended, I asked them: "what are the most memorable things that happen here?".

Last year, I played a game that changed my life.

I was taking an improv class, and the instructor gave us a game to play before getting on stage, so that we can turn off our over-rationalizing minds and get into the flow. The game was called Status, and it went like this:

A stack of card was shuffled face down on a table, and each person was asked to choose a card without looking at it. Then the instructor asked us to get on stage, and raise our cards against our foreheads so that they are facing the rest of the group.  Each person was automatically assigned a “status” corresponding to their card. Then the instructor suggested a business situation for us to enact in a way that helps each person guess the number on their forehead correctly. How would we do that? By changing our postures and tone of voice to match our estimated status and how it ranks against the status we see on other people’s forehead. For instance, if I am guessing the card on my head to be a 8, and I meet with a queen, I’d lower my voice and stand in a way that reflect the other person’s status dominance over mine. And if I meet a 5, I’d assume a higher posture and voice and may be give an order or two. If the person suddenly assumed a different posture and voice, it could mean that either she or I have the wrong guess. The goal wasn’t to challenge each other, but to help each other make the right guess.

After playing the game for about 15 minutes, I had guessed that my number was 9. I was a 10.

So what was shocking about that game?

 

The year is 2007, and I had just left Microsoft to dive into the startup world. Like many first time entrepreneur, I was very excited about the adventure. And like many first time entrepreneurs, I didn’t know where to start.

So I attended events, meetups, conferences, and mingled with the local startup community in Seattle. When the time came to move to the Bay Area, I found even more events, more meetups, and more conferences. The startup ecosystem was so busy and alive, and I found a wealth of knowledge and experience being shared, which I consumed eagerly.

There were also blogs, videos, and books that I ingested with passion. They made great conversation topics to share and discuss during the events, the meetups and the conferences.

I even joined a startup incubator!

 

Dina’s foot hit the curb, and her body jolted forward.  The cane fell off her hand, and she felt her palms and knees hitting the hot sidewalk. The fall reminded her of her days at elementary school, but her body was now much older to take it gracefully. It was painful. And despite the fact that it was early afternoon, it was pitch black. Her mind hated the paradox, but she knew that if she needed to survive, she’d better adjust to her new situation. Everything sounded much louder: car honking on the street she just ran across, voices of pedestrians, and footsteps on the sidewalk she just fell on. How would she ever get used to this?

I hung up the phone and sat shaking on the floor. What have I just done? Blood rushed to my head, and I realized that I’d been holding my breath probably since the phone rang. A let a long exhale out, and glanced once more at the contract in my hand…

Everything I wanted was there: the salary I’d asked for, the relocation benefits and the starting date. And the company logo was also there. It reminded me how it had been my childhood and teenage dream to just visit that company. The same company that I’d just turned down a dream offer to work at.

The phone rang again. It was my best friend, probably calling to ask about when I am starting with the new job. I couldn’t answer him; I wouldn’t be able to tell him why I just said “thanks, but no” to the biggest special effects studio in the world. I didn’t know if he’d understand that, after more than two weeks of negotiation, I had a “gut feeling” that I shouldn’t do it.

Today, Keynotopia is two months old. What started as a blog post last July became a product that sold almost 1500 copies in 60 days. Before jumping into the story and lessons learned, here are some quick stats:

• Total time spent creating the minimally viable product: less than 3 hours
• Total startup cost: $47.50 ($5 hosting, $7.50 domain, and $35 wordpress theme)
• First paying customer within 10 minutes of launch
• copies sold in the first 60 days: 1491
• Page views on the original blog post: 40,894
• Unique visitors to Keynotopia: 19,235
• Link backs/mentions: 769
• Total product returns: 2
• Total variations/tests on the landing page: 29
• Made it to Google’s first results page in less than 2 weeks for the following search terms: iPad prototyping, iPhone prototyping, Android prototyping, Keynote prototyping, Keynote wireframes, …
• I’ve never sold any products in my life (except my old laptops on eBay and CraigsList).

The story:

I clicked the update button and took a deep breath. The website was now online, and a surge of questions rushed to my head: What if it’s not good enough? What if people call me an opportunist for redirecting the blog post to a product page? What if no one wants to buy it?