I am bigger than a business card.


People say I am crazy doing what I am doing - well they give me all kinds of warnings to save me from ruin. When I say that I am OK, well they look at me kind of strange. Surely you’re not happy now you know longer play the game.  People say I am lazy dreaming my life away. Well they give me all kinds of advice designed to enlightened me. . . . - John Lennon, Watching the Wheels


My name is Lynn Armstrong. I am a pink flamingo in a brown duck pond.  

I am insecure, flamboyant, gregarious, friendly, impatient, and I have a general problem with being controlled and I detest the word 'no’.

If you are the kind of person who needs to be in control of others to be in control of yourself, I terrify you.

One of the biggest things I have had to overcome is that I am bigger than a business card - that my ‘job’ does not define me.  We live in a world of status-seekers - where “who I am” is “what I do”.

We also live in a world where our financial worth equates almost digit for digit with our human worth.  We live in a world of bankers, accountants and linear thinkers, who process one thing at a time, one person at a time, one penny at a time.

That is why we rarely see or know the people who have been in our lives all our lives. That is why we are virtual strangers to each other all our lives.  We think we know the people in the cubicle next to us, or at the dinner table, but all we really know is their brand - who we think they are to us. Like we are giant living tattoo that can be interpreted a thousand different ways.

In the marketing world, we call it branding - the concept of searing ourselves with an identity that others will be able to see and understand. The brand identity is the answer to the 'who are you' question, but it does not express who I am. I am bigger than a business card.

For more than 20 years, my former business card kept me grounded.  It told people who I am. It told me who I am.  And then one day I wasn’t that anymore.  That was the day I fell from the sky and began to fade to white. That was the day everything changed, and continues to change.  I am not that person anymore. She does not exist.  She is a ghost of her former self.  Sometimes people who knew me then look upon me with pity. They ask me if I am OK.  They want to know why I am not doing  . . . more.  They say things like  . . . you are so talented - I can’t imagine why you are not more successful, or you are so nice . . . why are other people more successful than you.

It reminds me of John Lennon’s song, “Watching the Wheels”.


People say I am crazy doing what I am doing - well they give me all kinds of warnings to save me from ruin. When I say that I am OK, well they look at me kind of strange. Surely you’re not happy now you know longer play the game.  People say I am lazy dreaming my life away. Well they give me all kinds of advice designed to enlightened me. . . .

The brand of my former self that was etched into my being is slowly fading away, but there are days when I miss her, her pay cheque and her status.

June 15 is the anniversary of this day when my business card changed and on that day, I will be launching the next phase of the Flamingo Project. I am about to ‘celebrate’ my fourth anniversary of this new life, the one that no longer fits on a business card.

Ironically, one of the biggest challenges I have is being able to ‘brand’ this ‘bigger than a business card’ identity so that others can understand who I am and what I do because even though I have changed, the world around me has not. The world around me still wants to and needs to get me in two seconds or less or they will pass over me. That is the world, like it or not.

And so my business card says something like this:
Lynn Armstrong
Pink Flamingo in a Brown Duck Pond.

Author. Blogger. Publisher. Entrepreneur. Yogi. Yoga Teacher.  Fitness instructor.  Business consultant. Strategist.  Communications Expert.  Strategic Planner.  Mother.  Wife. Daughter.  Friend. Grandmother . . . etc.  


Comments