Long time, no write, eh? The Monk has been busy!

In fact, that’s exactly what I want to talk to you about. No, not the “busy” part, the “Monk” part.

You see, I got out of spiritual healing work for a number of reasons, one of the biggies being that I didn’t like the feeling of charging for spiritually specific work (intuitive work, healing work, business work… sure. No problem. But teaching it? Just didn’t feel right.).

But even though I transitioned to full-time web design, I was still running everything out of MonkAtWork.com, and that just kinda bugged me. I would’ve preferred to have a different home for the web work, and leave the spiritual stuff here.

At the same time, as I worked with a number of clients, I began to realize a few things about the way my clients and I were approaching the design process, including what made a big difference in people’s success levels with their new sites (and, of course, what didn’t). I wanted to rectify those pitfalls, make it better/cheaper/faster/easier for folks, and do it in a way that really played to my strengths, and the strengths of WordPress (my platform of choice).

Long story short: I have a new home for my “web design” services, and it’s going to blow your doors off. Enter: Bright Coconut.

What’s the big diff?

Well, I’m great with WordPress, great with teaching WordPress and webstuff to people (hence, WebFit), but compared to some of the geniuses out there, I’m no graphics pro (that’s what happens when you major in Literature instead of Design…). And I believe that if you’re doing a bunch of custom design work, you should be a designer.

As much as I know solid design, I don’t do design in that create-unique-artwork-from-scratch way… and I didn’t want to let my lack of graphics cred keep my clients—who’ve appreciated my educational/teaching background—from having beautiful sites. I mean, I’m a form-follows-function guy when it comes down to it, but if you don’t have to choose, why should you?

So, at Bright Coconut, I’m thinking of myself more as a “web educator” than a “web designer”, if you get my drift. When you see what I’ve got going on over there, you’ll see what I mean.

The evolution of WebFit

WebFit has been received really well, and still, there were elements about it I knew I wanted to shift. I wanted to make room for different people’s learning speeds, and not have to make people wait months for the next round of classes to begin.

I did a LOT of brainstorming, a LOT of strategic planning, and a LOT of looking at all of this from multiple angles (yes, three planets in Virgo and a double Grand Trine in Air come in handy from time to time), and came up with what I think is going to be a slam dunk. I ran the idea past a few folks, and they all loved it, too.

In a nutshell, I’ve made WebFit into a video-tutorial-based course, along with personal support and exclusive resources, and I even did something unheard of in business these days: I made it less expensive, and gave you more. True!

So, when you check out Bright Coconut, be sure to check out The Solution as well, and you’ll see how WebFit has evolved.

Where does that leave the Monk?

The Monk, and all of his posts and comments and such, have been moved here.

I still use my tools, and I still believe in the value of living “monkishly”, especially when it comes to one’s work life… and yet it’s much like when people get really interested in a new hobby: they devour every book, turn over every rock they can, looking for more juicy stuff… because that’s what they’re into. It’s their thing.

And yet, if they truly grow, there comes a point where their passion mellows. It’s not as all-consuming anymore, because the new hobby isn’t new anymore; it has integrated itself into their lives.

True, some passions never fade, and they become (a)vocations. PD was mine for a good 15 years or more. But, it’s not anymore, and I want to be fully up-front about that. I’ll still leave these posts here, though, since I still get notes from time-to-time from people who stumble upon them and get value from them. Just don’t expect much new stuff unless I get inspired, ‘kay?

Where does that leave you?

Feel free to take advantage of the posts I have here; there’s some good stuff you can benefit from, if I say so myself.

And if you need a website, or want to get “WebFit” and learn all about how to master your own WordPress-based site, then come join me at Bright Coconut! (And if you’re a Twitter nut, I’ve got both my personal twitter account and a Bright-Coconut-specific twitter account as well.)

Image by Vanlal.

© Adam for Adam Kayce, 2009. | Permalink | 3 comments

Not really. It means I’m smart. Yay for me. But it also means I’m a perfectionist out the wazoo, so all these great ideas I have? All the amazing connections I see between things? All the creative impulses I have? They ride on the backs of turtles, past huge guardians of Quality Control, on their slow march towards freedom. It’s a wonder you’re even reading this. But who knows, you might not – I might edit this before I publish it.

I’m not alone, I know this.

You’re probably a perfectionist, too. And if you aren’t, you’ve probably got enough of an internal censor to grasp what I’m saying, even though you may not be bleeding in the trenches with the rest of us. If that’s you, well, good on ya; pass the gauze, will you?

Perfectionism, in its most beautiful out-picturing, is a valiant effort to maintain a degree of quality that you feel the world deserves. It’s a beautiful place, this world of ours, and dadgum, if you’re going to contribute something to it, it should be as beautiful as the rest, right? “Quality is job #1″, and all that. What a wonderful intention!

Perfectionism, unfortunately, also has a downside. When it’s ugly, it’s really not much more than fear of judgment projected outwards. You fear judgment, so you edit and polish and edit some more until either the thing shines, or withers away to nothingness, with no more substance than those dry, crackly vanilla wafer cookie things they sell at Quickie-Marts.

The bummer, then, is that all too often, your brilliance never gets shared with others. It stays hidden, behind the censors of your fear and doubt, until it dies of loneliness and boredom.

The bigger bummer is that the stuff that does go out tends to have two (okay, three) kinds of reception:

1. Either people love it… which makes your censors now tell you you have an even higher level of quality to live up to, or
2. People love it, but they miss the humanity in it. Because you’ve done them the unfortunate disservice of removing so much of you, so much of your process from it, that they miss out on the learning of what you, as a human being, actually went through to create it. Which, most likely, is 90% of what they’re thirsty for.
3. People hate it. But y’know what? Everybody hates something, and somebody hates everything. You can’t win ‘em all; you can only die trying. If somebody hates it, move on. If you use failure to beat yourself up, you’re only helping the censors.

I’m perfectly aware that this post may be loved. And if it is, great. That’s not why I’m writing it, but great. I’m writing it to help, in case there are others like me out there.

And, you may also think it sucks cheese. If you do, go ahead, unsubscribe, click away, or act like a troll in the comment box. It’ll only save me the pressure of feeling I have to perform better next time.

Because whether you like it or not, I’m here to stay.

And that’s what you need to tell your censors, too. You’re here to stay. The part of you that wants to share, to connect, to help, to give — it’s not going away based on the judgments of others, nor because of the rude comments your censors make. You’ve got a voice, and by god, you’re going to use it (no pressure, mind you).

So do it, whatever it is: Write it. Play it. Create it. Design it. Sing it. Build it. Get it out there. Sound that barbaric yawp of yours to the world, brothers and sisters.

Why? Because we need it. We need it so we can shut our own censors up long enough for us to give what we’ve got to give. Because the gems of greatness exist within us, but they need practice to develop, and room to breathe. Because when it comes down to it, even the stuff that most people would call semi-decent can be the catalyst for one person’s dramatic, life-changing epiphany.

So be the example of bravery for someone else. Create, so someone else will, too.

Image by Infinity Rain.

© Adam for Adam Kayce, 2009. | Permalink | 22 comments