Who’s Counting?

One of the nice things about this blog is that I’ve continually resisted any widgets or what-have-yous that count readers and hits and that sort of thing.
In fact, the default column I see while editing each post tells me exactly how many readers have looked at each entry:  0.
Now, I know this isn’t accurate.  People not only tell me via emails and facebook and in person, and even a few online comments, that they read the blog faithfully (and each and every time I’m astonished.)
[Years ago, I attended the last series of Master Classes with Stella Adler before she died.  Each and every class greeted her with a standing ovation –– and every time she was (or acted) totally astonished.]
The difference is, I know for sure I’m not acting.
KEEPING SCORE is often my downfall (or delay) and it’s an Abraham 101 no-no.  Especially KEEPING SCORE too early.
It’s opening the oven on the souffle way too soon and causing it to flop.
It’s wondering what you’re doing wrong, when you’re teaching a class that has 2 to 5 people in it for several months before it starts selling out at 45 every week.
It’s getting depressed when you’re nearly asked to leave your promotional event by security, before the limos start picking you up for national TV shows.  [See my UNAUTHORIZED BIO if you don’t get this reference.]
So although I’m blown away with surprise and delight anytime someone tells me they’re reading –– and I know pre-next book auction publishers will want to know how many twitter followers and facebook friends and blog readers I have and a complete breakdown of their spending habits and credit ratings ––  I like that right now I’m deliberately not keeping score here.
(Right now, this blog is just between US.)
Monday brought a surprise yoga session with my client who is delightful but has a quicksilver schedule.
Then lunch with a recent friend who’s also equally new to SF and also figuring things out (and may have some strong PR possibilities for Belle as well).
I taught two Lotus classes on Monday and while I enjoyed them both, even though the number of students were equal, with one I felt I was chanting with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, and with another it was as though chanting was a radical innovation I was introducing, rather than something that happens in every Lotus class.  I have no real analysis of this…it was just kind of funny.
On Monday, I sent out a mass-mailing for UPWARD DOG (if you’re not on the list and want to be, please register on the site AND get a free Ebook).  One of the nice things that happens after such a mailing (besides a slight bump in sales –– but who’s counting) is that lots of people write to me about this and that, from missing my class in NYC or with marketing ideas or just hellos.
But the downside of the mass-mailing is that since I’m doing all of it, I can instantly go online and see exactly how many people have open the email, or signed up for the ebook, or taken themselves off the mailing list.
The first time someone took themselves off –– a very pretty blonde lady teacher in LA that I had dinner with once with a bunch of mutual friends, I did have a reaction.  It was the first email mailing I’d ever sent, so I didn’t feel I was bombarding her.  And it’s possible she may not even remember me really –– although we are facebook friends still.  But for about ten minutes I found myself baffled and a little disconcerted by her “cutting me out of her life” without just cause.
I remember I once had a fascinating yoga client for whom I was half-therapist, while for me he was half-mentor.  He was often reminding me that “it’s a numbers game” whenever I was having any kind of personal reaction to any kind of rejection, whether it was dating or career stuff.  For him, it was very easy to detach;  as “a numbers game” none of it had any emotional impact on him whatsoever.
For him it it was almost like a drunken game of darts in a bar.
He felt that even if he were blindfolded, he would eventually hit the bull’s-eye and that only that final outcome mattered.
For me, I have learned that I have to take it further than just realizing it’s a numbers game:  I have to stop counting entirely.
[Except of course, when it’s fun and things are going in my favor.  For example, I’ve received several emails from Constant Contact congratulating me on my extremely high Open Rates –– and when I see their comparison charts and graphs, I see that this is in fact, true –– but it’s as though they want to understand my secret.
Although I don’t think they’d understand that my secret may actually be that, more and more, I’m trying to keep score as little as possible.]