The Gentle Art Of Getting Nowhere Fast : Making The Dilly Dally Cool Again

I like to dilly dally, some might even say that I have a PhD in it. And some of you might not even know what the art dilly dallying even is.

I see you about to open a new tab and click over and ask Chat GPT what Dilly Dally even means and in hopes of keeping you here longer I did it for you. Chat has this to say about Dilly Dally “"Dilly Dally" means to waste time by being slow or indecisive, or to delay doing something you should be doing. It's often used when someone is taking too long to make a decision or get moving on a task.

For example, you might say "Stop dilly dallying and get ready for school!" or "We don't have time to dilly dally - we need to leave now."

The phrase has a playful, somewhat old-fashioned sound to it, and it's often used in a mildly scolding but not harsh way, especially with children.”

Get it now?

I guess your next question is probably well isn’t Dilly Dallying the same as Procrastination?

My answer is a solid NO.

While dilly dally and procrastination are related, they have some subtle differences:

Procrastination is more about deliberately putting off tasks you know you should do, often because they're unpleasant, difficult, or boring. It's a conscious avoidance behavior - you know you should be doing your taxes or writing that report, but you choose to do something else instead.

Dilly dallying is more about being slow, unfocused, or indecisive in the moment. It's less about avoiding a specific task and more about just not being efficient or decisive. Someone might dilly dally by taking forever to choose what to wear, getting distracted by small things while getting ready, or just moving slowly without much purpose.

Think of it this way: if you spend an hour scrolling social media instead of starting your work, that's procrastination. If you spend 20 minutes standing in your closet unable to decide what shirt to wear, that's dilly dallying.

One makes me feel guilty. The other fills my creative tank.

As marketers and business owners, we're so focused on moving fast and making things go viral that we forget some of our best ideas come from those unproductive moments.

Like when I'm browsing and reading vintage postcards and suddenly get inspired for a retro campaign concept.

My focus and intention this summer is to slow things down in my inner world. Get back to simplicity and embrace the dilly dally that I fight daily.

In our rush-rush world, we've forgotten the value of unhurried moments. We've been conditioned to see any pause, any moment of indecision, any lingering as inefficiency—as something to be optimized away like we’re a robot.

 But what if dilly dallying isn't a glitch in our system? What if it's a feature?

My brain needs a good dilly dally day because when I take twenty minutes of standing in my closet  to choose what shirt to wear, I'm not being inefficient. I'm being present. I'm allowing myself to feel the fabric, consider the colors, think about how I want to show up in the world that day. When I meander through the grocery store without a list, walking down every aisle and pausing to examine produce I don't need, I'm not wasting time—I'm experiencing abundance, texture, possibility.

But my favorite place to practice the art of dilly dallying? Antique stores and thrift shops. These places are temples of unhurried exploration, where time seems to move differently and efficiency goes to die—in the best possible way.

There's something magical about wandering through aisles of forgotten treasures with no agenda. I'll pick up a vintage teacup and wonder about the hands that held it, the conversations it witnessed. I'll run my fingers along the spine of a book from 1962 and imagine the reader who dog-eared page 47 re-reading it to figure out why. I'll try on a blazer that's three sizes too big just because the fabric feels like butter.

In antique stores, dilly dallying isn't just acceptable—it's the point. You can't efficiently treasure a treasure hunt. You can't speed-run serendipity. The best finds come to those who linger, who let their eyes wander, who follow curiosity down rabbit holes of old postcards and vintage jewelry.

These spaces remind us that not everything worthwhile can be found quickly. Some discoveries require patience, presence, and the willingness to spend an afternoon getting pleasantly lost among the remnants of other people's lives.

Dilly dallying is the art of existing in the spaces between decisions. It's the practice of not rushing to fill every moment with productivity. It's giving ourselves permission to be inefficient, indecisive, and beautifully human.

If you want this  summer, join me in reclaiming the lost art of dilly dallying. Start whenever you want.  Stand in your closet a little longer. Take the scenic route. Spend an afternoon in a dusty antique shop with no shopping list. Let yourself get distracted by something beautiful. The world will wait—and you might just discover something wonderful in the meantime.

Who else is ready to embrace some strategic inefficiency?

The Silent Disco That Changed How I View Social Media Marketing

It all started on a random Tuesday waiting in line to board a plane. 

Imagine this scene boarding groups 1 and 2 are lined up. First and Business class have just boarded and they are now asking for families or individuals who need extra time.

My phone is charging, I have no headphones in and I'm just silently being a non tech human.

Then a man waiting in the line in front of me, says "just look how everyone is immersed in their phones." Necks bowed faces a glow with whatever video or post they were reading on social.

I told him I saw it to and then I said “I'm part of the problem” and he looked at me all confused “I work in marketing. And that's marketing.”

He nodded and said that is indeed marketing. 

Then I told him about this art exhibition I saw where the photographer took pictures of people in intimate and every day situations and removed the phones from the photos and just how powerful those images were to me. 

How we are missing out on our actual life because we are to busy watching someone elses.

He looked it up because the line wasn't moving, and noted how silly we truly do look when the phone is removed from the situation.

(You should look at it too.)

He got a call and right before he answered I wished him safe travels. 

Because I was boarding group 4 and my travels were taking me on another connection to a music festival.

Where…

The documenting continued even in a wall of rain. 

Besides the wall of phone screens between me and the stage the most interesting observation happened at the final event of the festival- the silent disco.

There we all were at least 100 of us with our bluetooth headphones dancing with the others who were tuned into the same channel as us when the headliner of the festival came in and the disco stopped.

A collective gasp feel across the venue loud enough to hear through bluetooth headphones pumping out jams and a wall of people moved toward the headliner, phones out and videoing. Stopping the live experience they had just been a part of to get a far away video for what to post to social to say they were in the same place as a celebrity- as if that video validates their entire existence at said festival?

My friend and I looked over and kept on dancing with the handful of others who were enjoying that moment. 

As I watched people filming that headliner at the silent disco—trading a genuine experience for social validation—I couldn't help but think about us as business owners.

How often do we fall into the same trap? Documenting our businesses rather than being fully present in them? Creating content about our expertise instead of deepening it? Chasing likes while missing connections with the customers and community standing right in front of us?

The most successful businesses I know aren't just the ones with the most followers—they're the ones where the owners are genuinely present. 

Where customer interactions aren't just content opportunities but meaningful exchanges. 

Where social media amplifies the business rather than becoming the business.

This week, I challenge you (and myself) to set aside dedicated phone-free blocks during your workday. Notice what happens when you engage with your business without the filter of "how will this look online?" Maybe it's 30 minutes of uninterrupted conversation with a client. Maybe it's solving a problem without immediately sharing the solution. 

Maybe it's simply experiencing the joy of your craft without documenting it.

Your business was built on your passion and expertise—not your social media presence. While digital marketing matters (and yes, again I recognize the irony of sending this in an email), it should serve your business, not the other way around.

Your customers don't just want your content. They want you—your undivided attention, your expertise, your humanity. That's the true currency of business and community that no algorithm can replicate.

So the next time you feel that pull to check notifications or create content, ask yourself: Am I missing a real moment and is this piece of content worth someone in my community missing a moment that matters more?

Here's to being present in our businesses and our IRL lives this summer.

P.S. I'd love to hear your thoughts on this. Have you found ways to balance digital marketing with being present in your business?

Professional Maturity: Accepting That Not Everyone in the Room Likes Each Other

I’ve made it. I’ve arrived. I’ve gotten to the elusive “success” point.

As an entrepreneur this is the dream right to make to the Shark Tank room?

Oh wait.

I guess I made it to the wrong one.
Or did I?

When we made it to the shark tank room, at the aquarium my friend pitched me an interesting question.

“Do we think everyone in the tank likes each other?”

My response came quick, and without a filter as they usually do “I doubt it, even when humans are in the same room someone doesn’t like someone.”

The moment I said it, I realized how rarely we acknowledge this simple truth.

We're conditioned to believe that professional spaces require universal harmony, that success means getting along with everyone, and that admission of interpersonal friction somehow indicates failure.

But what if we're looking at it all wrong?

Society sells us the idea that with enough emotional intelligence, communication skills, and professional polish, we should be able to connect meaningfully with everyone we encounter.

Business books tell us to network widely, find common ground with anyone, and cultivate relationships in every direction.

This advice isn't entirely wrong, but it misses something fundamental about human nature: we are wonderfully, messily unique.

Our personalities, values, communication styles, senses of humor, and worldviews are as diverse as our fingerprints.

Because spoiler our life experiences have not been the same.

Let's be real—the odds of everyone in a room genuinely vibing with each other? Pretty much zero. It just doesn't happen that way in life.

And maybe true maturity in work and life isn't pretending to like everyone equally, but instead:

Treating everyone with consistent respect regardless of personal affinity.

Finding productive ways to collaborate despite personality differences.

Being honest with ourselves about relationship dynamics without creating unnecessary drama.

Accepting that chemistry can't be forced and some connections will just never happen personally or professionally.

So the next time you're in a room – whether it's a meeting room, a zoom room, a networking event, or your own version of the "Shark Tank" – remember that you aren’t going to like to like everyone, and not everyone is going to like you.

This isn't cynical; it's nothing personal, it's just being realistic.

And also the unfollow and unsubscribe buttons exist virtually and IRL for a reason- use them accordingly for your mental health.

Social Changed Forever When We All We Invested In Each Other's Sourdough Starters

When I first meet with a new client or start a presentation, I always ask what the goal of their social media marketing is.

And one of the top three answers is always: "More engagement!!!!"

To which I counter question- but are you engaging with others' content?

They avoid looking at me. 🙃

For a while now I keep seeing people complaining that you can't build a community on social media and I disagree.

Building a community is possible, but you also need to be contributing to that community in a non-sales way.

Hear me out- I want you to think back to the wild times of 2020. The days when we didn’t know what exactly was going on with the world. The days where we were inside of our homes and the only connection we had outside of our covid bubble was the people we were connected to on social media. 

And what we were doing on social media was sharing updates about the sourdough starters we were starting or we were sharing about the plants we would bring home from those now risky grocery store runs. 

Sourdough is how we all bonded when we didn't know what was going on in the world. We asked our communities what we should name our sourdough starters. We were asking our communities what do if we missed feeding our sourdough starters.

We commented name ideas for said sourdough. We offered "discard" recipes, we saved their discard recipes. We created a relationship and essentially a community around a stranger on the internet's sourdough starter.

Basically, the sourdough starter is what transformed us from Pinterest/photoshoot quality visuals to the raw user generated visuals that are now scroll stopping. It was the Tomodachi, and we were all invested in it's daily or weekly updates like it was our own.

What a time that was.

Want more engagement- brainstorm around how we all acted with the sourdough starters. What is going to get people to stop lurking and join a conversation?

Because that's how you build the foundation for a community.

Channel the sourdough. 🍞

Did you have a sourdough starter in 2020?

Breaking the Social Media Mold: Why Your Life Experience Voice Matters

One of the first things that I hear in any consulting or speaking session with a new person is “I hate social media”. 

And yes social media can be an extremely toxic place. The curated looking everything, the only sharing of the highlights of an otherwise messy life. 

I get it.

But I also love it because social media can be anything you want it to be. 

You could literally do and post almost anything you wanted to within the terms and conditions of the platform.

And yet instead we all are doing it the same way.

We are all editing videos the same, we’re using the same audios when they are popping off even if the song does not relate to our brands at all. We are taking photos in the same places. 

It’s truly become difficult to find anything creative and new- and also to tell who’s who in my scroll. 

Which brings me to a week that changed everything. 

Late last year I was nominated for a Better Business Bureau Torch award, in recognition of my ethics in running Maven and Muse.  The awards luncheon wa a couple weeks ago. 

It was an honor to even be nominated and seen for the transparency I’m attempting to bring to my little corner of the internet because it’s not often these days that you hear the word ethics and marketing in the same sentences. 

But also the day after the luncheon I spoke to the Women In Business Association at Colorado State- and in the room where women are about to get a degree in social media marketing. (Wild since I feel I’ve only been in this space for a few years.)

And something happened that night in that presentation. 

Every time I speak, right before I sneak off to the restroom or somewhere quiet and I send up a prayer to use me and speak whatever needs to be said to the room.

There's been some real hummdingers that has come out of this mouth.

But that night I told a room full of 20 year old women about my social media induced mental breakdown of 2018 when I almost threw Maven & Muse away. 

I didn't mean to. 

It wasn't in the script.

I had an entire deck of inspiring memes to get through!

But I got asked how I do it mentally- how do I deal when my content fails?

I've barely ever talked about it, especially to a group of strangers.

It was so weird.

But I told them.

And since we’re in mental health awareness month I’ll share it now on here.

 I told them how I compared myself and lack of babies to everyones babies.  How I compared my career+part time barista job to those making 10k a day and that I was failing. How I compared my failed dating life with those getting married and all their happy relationship stories.

Then the followup question quietly and bravely when I acknowledged her she asked "how did you move on from it?"

And I told them all of them, therapy, a now annual digital detox and my inner circle. 

But I also said this, we are each on own journey, and that no opportunity or nothing meant for you is ever going to miss you.

Social media can absolutely  be the worst- but you are stronger and braver than social media- even on the days you don't feel like you are. 

You are a human walking earth- social media is a made up place that is plugged into a wall that we put so much pressure on ourselves to perform and be creative on. 

Everything you experience is because of how you perceive it. Meaning if you HATE social then the things you hate about social are going to keep presenting themselves to you.  If you flip the script and start doing social your way instead of how everyone else is- I wonder if your mindset towards it will shift to. 

Stay in your lane.

The best is yet to come.

The Glitch Opportunity: How Broken Pixels and Fast Teams Created Marketing Magic

We've all been there. That paralyzing moment when you're staring at a blank document, or scrolling social for content “inspiration” waiting for the perfect concept to materialize. The pressure to create something groundbreaking, something that will stop thumbs from scrolling and change the trajectory of your brand forever.

But what if I told you that sometimes the most engaging content isn't born from grand visions or elaborate strategies? Sometimes, it's as simple as a glitched billboard and a team that knows how to seize the moment.

During a New York Mets game, last year Shohei Ohtani hit a foul ball so hard it knocked out part of a Coors Light billboard. The result? A silver can with one perfectly glitched black square floating above the logo.

Most brands would've called maintenance. Coors Light called their agency.

Within 48 hours, that "mistake" became a limited-edition product drop, a campaign called "Lights Out," and a global viral moment. No media budget. No sponsorship deal. Just a fast, clever flip of a moment into a message.

This is what separates good marketers from great ones. Not the ability to create perfect campaigns from scratch, but the reflex to recognize opportunity in the unexpected and to act before the internet moves on and the moment passes.

That's exactly what Coors Light's team did. They saw the damaged billboard not as a maintenance issue but as a storytelling opportunity. They recognized that the internet would be talking about this moment for maybe 72 hours tops—and they needed to own the conversation before it disappeared.

I can just imagine the Coors Light team chat exploding with ideas the moment someone shared a photo of that damaged billboard. "What if we..." messages flying back and forth, building on each other's energy, transforming what could have been an embarrassing moment into marketing gold.

The internet moves fast. By the time you've perfected your response to a trend, or life happening the moment is well gone. (Which is why most of the time you will find me advising businesses against hopping on trends unless it already aligns with their messaging and we can jump on it immediately.)

And while we’re on the topic of creating content from seized opportunities, don’t be afraid to recycle the content you’ve put out that has already proven it is capable of an audience. The posts that have been shared a bunch of times, liked and commented on- reuse them. Because the truth is constantly creating new content all of the time is exhausting. And there are going to be some days when you are scrolling for “inspiration” and the “inspiration” doesn’t come.

Those are the days to reuse what already exists. 

What has already proven it’s worth.

Repost it exactly as it is.

Because the truth is we are each following so many accounts that we aren’t going to remember if we already saw it or not. 

I wouldn't be surprised if Coors Light found ways to extend this campaign, perhaps by creating "glitched" limited editions for other major sporting events or developing a broader platform around embracing unexpected moments.

Some will call it repetitive and boring. But to me it’s smart marketing. The social algorithms reward consistency, and your audience appreciates the continuation of conversations they're already invested in. Because social is a continued conversation.

So here's my challenge to you: Stop waiting and scrolling for the big idea. 

Instead, start recognizing the micro-inspirations all around you:

• The accidental visual your snapped when unlocking your phone

• The unexpected interaction between your brand and a cultural moment

• The "mistake" that actually looks kind of cool

These aren't flaws to be fixed—they're jumping off points for content that feels authentic, timely, and human.

Sometimes your best work doesn't come from months of planning—it comes from a broken billboard and a team that knows how to run with it. And when something works, don't be afraid to remix it, extend it, and squeeze every drop of engagement from it before moving on to the next big (or small) thing.

National Small Business Week And A Hot Human Take

It's Small Business Week, and I've gotta vent about something that drives me CRAZY as someone who manages social for local businesses...

The double standard.

People will order from Temu or Shein 10 times in a row, get absolute garbage half the time, and keep coming back for more. "Lol my $5 dress fell apart but I just ordered 6 more things! 🤪"

But heaven forbid a local boutique messes up ONE order. Suddenly it's "never shopping there again" and a 1-star review that stays online forever.

Same with pricing.

Big box stores can jack up prices overnight and everyone just shrugs. But when my small business clients have to raise prices, the comments section and DM's turn into an interrogation room. 🫠

"Why so expensive?" "Can you do it for less?" "I found it cheaper online!"

As someone drowning in DMs managing these accounts, I see this play out DAILY. The psychology behind it fascinates me (when it's not making me want to throw my phone out the window).

So I'm gonna just say it. I think we hold small businesses to impossibly high standards while giving endless grace to faceless corporations.

And I don't know how to make it make sense.🤷‍♀️

The most successful small business campaigns I've run directly address this psychology—highlighting craftsmanship stories and community impact messaging that transcends the transaction.

My advice to fellow marketers and business owners DIYing : Stop competing on big-box terms. Position your clients and selves as the authentic alternative you truly are.

Understanding these psychological forces is essential for crafting messaging that breaks through this double standard and stops a scroll.

And ya know... support small and local businesses when you can.

They're noticing. Trust me.

Making Blossom Browsing Happen On Social

Social media and the internet loses their minds for fall.

There are charts that track when peak leaf peeping will happen. There are specialty drinks, the hats and scarves come out.

Almost every post in the month of October has something to do with leaves.

We all know the drill. Come September, our feeds transform into an endless scroll of:

"It's finally sweater weather, besties!" captioning photos of people frolicking in pumpkin patches.

"Nature's showing off today" accompanying the fifteenth nearly identical shot of red and orange trees.

"This crisp air is everything" paired with videos of boots crunching through fallen leaves.

The fall aesthetic has its own vocabulary: cozy, hygge, flannel, PSL. Fall leaf peeping has become an established cultural ritual, complete with travel guides, peak foliage trackers, and dedicated hashtags that garner millions of posts.

But I’ve been on the socials awhile and meanwhile, spring blooms arrive with considerably less fanfare. Sure, cherry blossom season gets its moment, but the brief explosion of diverse florals deserves the same level of coordinated appreciation that autumn receives. 

Spring peek petal peeping offers everything fall leaf peeping does, but with a fresh twist:

Instead of earth tones, you get vibrant pinks, purples, yellows, and whites dotting landscapes like nature's confetti.

Rather than the melancholy of things ending, you experience the optimism of new beginnings.

Where fall offers crisp air and crunchy leaves, spring delivers fragrant breezes and the satisfying squish of rain-softened earth.

To me it is also one of the most magical times of the year- it’s the literal defrosting of the earth but gets zero social cred. 

I was never a big spring person until I moved to Portland and now spring is ingrained in me. Portland in the spring literally everything is pink, purple, yellow, orange and white. It’s like a magical land of pink snow petal covered sidewalks and yards when the wind blows. 

Btw- what are petals even made of anyway? 

I didn’t have much hope for how Colorado would look in the spring, but since moving here I have been pleasantly surprised. So much so that I decided to grab a cherry hot cocoa and take a walk around Ft. Collins for some peak blossom browsing. 

I’m trying to make blossom browsing happen- to elevate spring peek petal peeping to its rightful cultural status, we need the same level of commitment that autumn enthusiasts bring:

1. Document the ephemeral beauty of spring blooms with the same reverence reserved for turning leaves.

2. Develop our own vocabulary: "bloom basking," "petal pursuits," or "blossom browsing."

3. Create seasonal traditions: flower crown picnics, botanical garden tours, and neighborhood flower hikes.

4. Embrace spring's version of cozy—think lightweight cardigans, floral prints, and botanical-infused beverages.

What makes fall leaf peeping so appealing to content creators is its perceived authenticity—connecting with nature, slowing down, appreciating simple pleasures. Spring peek petal peeping offers these same values but without the oversaturation.

While everyone and their pumpkin-spiced grandmother heads to the same Vermont byways or Rocky Mountain overlooks, you could be pioneering routes through Texas bluebonnet fields or admiring neighborhood crab apple and tulip studded garden beds from the sidewalk.

Fall leaf peeping isn't going anywhere, nor should it. But spring deserves its moment too. So while the autumn enthusiasts pack away their flannel until next September, I'll be here mapping out bloom schedules, crafting the perfect spring peek petal peeping playlist, and waiting for the day when "spring girlies" flood our feeds with the same enthusiasm as their fall counterparts.

Who's with me? The petals are peeping, and they're waiting for you to notice. Let’s make blossom browsing happen on social. 

From Human to Hashtag: The Epidemic of LinkedIn Personality Disorder

One of the things I am finding that loathe more and more in my scroll is how everyone is truly looking like everyone else.

Once a trend hits- it feels like everyone is canceling everything in their day to jump on it and somehow make it work for their business. Fine fair, it’s been too many years and that isn’t going to stop any time soon.

But what I also can’t really seem to get past is how most of LinkedIn has content pieces that feel like someone is trying to impress a professor for a grade.  People that I have met IRL who when I read their LinkedIn pieces is as if they suddenly have LinkedIn personality disorder or something. 

I’ve been around these platforms to know that most people transform into some kind of corporate robot or an alter super serious version of themselves online. And truly that’s fine- but it is a bit weird when you finally meet the real version of the person and they are NOTHING like their social avatar. 

The brands and businesses that I work with it’s always said upfront, that I will do my best to portray how it feels to be in your space, hold your product or have a coffee with you IRL. Because in my opinion there’s enough catfishing happening both IRL and online right now. 

But back to the LinkedIn personality phenomenon because it is just so interesting to me right now.

In the professional theater of LinkedIn, many of us undergo a curious metamorphosis. Our multidimensional selves flatten into algorithm-friendly, buzzword-compliant corporate personas that bear little resemblance to who we are in real life.

The condition manifests in predictable ways. Suddenly, ordinary people begin:

• Celebrating the most mundane professional developments as "thrilled," "honored," or "humbled"

• Speaking exclusively in management consultant jargon and buzzwords

• Transforming personal setbacks into inspiring "growth journeys" (Guilty)

• Crafting carefully curated versions of themselves that project constant success

What starts as normal professional networking can quickly spiral into a performative exercise where we're all speaking the same artificial language.

This transformation isn't accidental. LinkedIn's ecosystem rewards certain behaviors and penalizes others. The platform's algorithm favors content with high engagement, which typically means success stories, inspirational narratives, and business platitudes. The result? We unconsciously conform to these expectations.

Deeper factors are at work too. In a pretty weird  job market, we're incentivized to present idealized professional selves. Employers increasingly screen candidates' social media, making LinkedIn a perpetual interview space where we're always "on." The pressure to appear employable well it drives us toward standardized professional identities whatever we deem them as.

The gap between who we know people to be and how they present themselves online creates cognitive dissonance. We all participate in this charade while privately acknowledging its artificiality but we keep doing it.

The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over while expecting different results. 

So how do we get out of this madness- if it’s driving you mad too?

Can we overcome LinkedIn and Social Media Personality Disorder? 

Probably not entirely, but we can be the ones who try and break the cycle of insanity:

First, recognize the performance aspect of professional social media. Awareness is the first step toward well anything you want to change about yourself.

Second, experiment with bringing more of your actual personality into your professional persona. AKA stop taking everything SO seriously.  The most memorable LinkedIn presences often belong to people who maintain their distinctive voice while remaining professionally appropriate and well themselves.

Finally, remember that the most meaningful professional connections still happen when we engage as complete humans, not as optimized professional algorithm chasers.

The next time you catch yourself writing "I'm excited to announce..." or "Grateful for this amazing opportunity," pause and ask: Is this really me speaking, or have I temporarily transformed into a corporate robot? The answer might be revealing.

Stop Selling, Start Storytelling: What Passover & Puppies Taught Me About Content

I'd like to blame the five glasses of seder wine that I feel are still in my system for what I am about to say, but let's be real—we all know that I would have said them without the wine.

And no, it does not have to do with the AI-generated action figurines that every business account has decided to make in the past two weeks (I have thoughts, though). It has to do with how, every year at this time, I can't stop thinking about storytelling.

The Universal Power of Stories

How important is storytelling to us? It's not just important—it's ingrained in our DNA, and far too many businesses could be utilizing it but aren't.

This time of year (Passover/Easter) is the highlight of storytelling season.

In Jewish culture, the story of the Exodus from Pharaoh is told and celebrated with bitter herbs, a feast, and glasses of wine.

In Christianity, the story of the rising from death is told and celebrated with an egg hunt, feast, and glasses of wine.

Both events are stories shared and handed down from generation to generation that we still tell and celebrate today.

Because, at our core—we humans love stories.

And here in the present day, our stories translate to digital content.

This got me thinking about why we all fell in love with social media in the first place.

In my opinion, it's because of the lifestyle content we all used to share before we decided that we needed to monetize every new hobby we picked up.

If you've ever been to one of my presentations, then you already know I say your biggest competition on socials is always:

1. The news cycle &

2. Dog videos.

In consulting sessions, I always joke that if you want more engagement on Instagram, you should put the product next to a puppy or a baby because that's a guaranteed scroll stop.

But in all seriousness, lifestyle content is what we love the most. It's why we fell in love with social media in the first place.

We want to know you beyond what you do.

We fall in love with brands and become loyal fans by feeling like we know them and belong in their community.

Because we aren't your followers. We are the members of your community.

So take this as your sign to invite us into your world... a smidge (we don't need all the dirty deets).

Stop constantly selling us your product, your affiliate links, and how sensational you are.

When you share a story, that's where the magic and, eventually, sales happen.