“I looked up the road I was going and back the way I come, and since I wasn’t satisfied, I decided to step off the road and cut me a new path.” Mrs. Annie Johnson

I was in Texas. The day before I had been worlds away- in Berlin, then Stockholm, then New York and finally on a plane west to Austin. For the first time in a long time I felt completely relaxed. Able to read a book, concentrate, focus, really listen to music, write.

I was blocked, maybe by self doubt, maybe by criticism, maybe by distractions. Blocked for so long, swimming in place. But I wasn’t blocked any longer. I felt emancipated from some kinda cage that I had willingly locked myself in to hide away from so many things - reality, what I really wanted, change, new beginnings.

A change in direction can be scary. It can be so fucking scary. I didn’t think twice moving to Germany, I didn’t think twice before moving thousands of miles away from everyone and everything I loved but the reality was that it was hard. It was hard and I didn’t want to do it again. I didn’t want to go through that again. It got good, fantastic even, but it took a long time and it shook me. I had been fragile, I had been weak and I didn’t want to do it again alone so I hid away miserable but safe for so long. The truth was I was scared, but not scared enough to not do something about it.

My life had changed - I got my dream job, I felt the breathe inside me return to normal, I felt up for new challenges. My life was different - I was ready and I was willing and I was happy. For the first time in a long time I felt at peace. I was ready to transform once again, I was ready to be challenged, I was ready to change directions and I was ready to do it alone. I was all alone and it was all happening.

I couldn’t go to sleep for a long time after I finished it. The Bell Jar lay lifeless on my bedside table and I just stared at it thinking. I was thinking so much these days. The words sunk into me still. Sinking deep and the fan was running and I was woozy from the muscle relaxer I had taken for my aching back and as the words were sinking into my skin, melting into my limbs, my body, I felt my eyes go droopy and I began falling into..rather…diving into sleep.

At first I fought it, but I fell and fell and fell some more until I was dreaming of Esther Greenwood and life in an asylum and human sized bell jars and I didn’t have to imagine it too hard because it felt so real to me. I could reach out and touch the sadness. I could touch the madness and it felt familiar and I walked through that dream and sat down in it for awhile and felt I may never get up, but I did.

I was on the train from Hamburg to Copenhagen. 6 hours of silent and gorgeous scenery out my window flying by and all I could think of was you and how much I wished you to be there. I could not wish you there hard enough. You were all I could think about as we crossed bridges, passed by farms and looked up at the sky grey about to spill over with rain. But you were far away, so far and I was daydreaming and it was a beautiful waste of time because in the end it meant nothing.

My dad got me a new journal. I approve.

It was so early and Berlin was just yawning, waking up, bleary eyed and slow to stir. The winter wakeup was always slow, but I was wide awake taking off towards the west. The sunrise was pale pink and powder blue then crimson and bright hot orange. We leveled out and the engine calmed down and the fog below formed a sea of clouds as far as I could see. I felt at peace up in the air less frigid than I had felt on earth with all my thoughts far away from me on the ground holding onto me like a string attached to a balloon. Still there but far away.

I always felt better up in the air where I could escape . This time I was escaping my old life and a part of my new life that got trapped and trampled in the transition. I was leaving to start over. It felt good.

The sky was turning into a great watercolored beauty and it was lovely and all I could do was stare at it in awe. It reminded me that the darkness, utter blackness, cold of the night always would eventually turn into something brighter, shinier, more gorgeous, lovelier. At least it comforted me to believe that even it was not always true. We continued west chasing the sunrise.

Really stoked to be joining this rad team (customer support at 37signals) in the next few months after a much needed hiatus from the Interwebs. Obviously, it needs to be said that I am super sad to be leaving SoundCloud (I was so lucky and honored to be hired by David Noel 2 years ago - I will miss the people & all the fun), but I am excited for my new adventure ahead:

Why am I stoked? For the following reasons:

and

“Workaholics aren’t heroes. They don’t save the day, they just use it up. The real hero is home because she figured out a faster way” ― Jason Fried, Rework

+ many more reasons!

Excited for new adventures!

This must be the place.: What's so special about my Berlin community

dream-explore-create:

I used to ramble on and on about how much I loved Atlanta (I still do). But it was so multi-faceted, and there were so many layers, so many groups, so many people. Everyone grew up there! We were all tangled and tied up together in a big southern spiderweb.

My Berlin community is so unique and incredibly special to me… I had to make it known. But do you know why? The friends I have made here are also all expats. From all over the world, but expats just the same. Very few of us grew up here, so we’re all learning the ropes and meeting new people all the time. I guess most of my friends have similar jobs too, because they’re mainly tech startup employees (or au pairs/kita teachers). So we have a common culture, and we’re not relying on history to keep our friendships running. We’re making our own histories together. Nothing seems exclusive. Everyone is warmly welcomed to be a part of our special little world.

We’re all adventurers who left our homes and predictable, happy lives to pursue the reality we are now living together. Katie came here from Toronto to follow her dreams and passions. Natalie left sunny California. We all left without looking back. With no guarantee that things would work out. But if we hadn’t risked it, hadn’t believed…we wouldn’t have each other and this community we’ve created. I wouldn’t trade my new home and friends for the world.

I’ve only been here five months, but I feel like I’ve known some people for years. There’s a warm idealism amongst this expat tribe—a twinkle in the eye that says, “anything is possible.” And it is.

(Source: heyabigailmae)

It was a Saturday, in Autumn. It was cold and windy but sunny and my cheeks were flushed pink and I was alone. I chose to be alone instead of hang out in the company of people — human people who could comfort me or stroke my hand and tell me everything was going to be alright, “just peachy” or that it would all pass. I felt sea sick on land. I had felt like that for awhile but the feeling was getting worse and it had been creeping up on me and things were changing and I was scared.

I wish I could say I wasn’t or that I invited change (because I usually do — that’s what I am all about) or that I longed for a foreign routine that was becoming familiar and repetitive and comfortable — something I thought that I had always longed for, but to me all I saw was a cage - a box - a key in a lock that held my life behind iron bars or something like that. I had no idea what it was but my stomach was sinking and I was drowning in the thick air around me.

 The air was full of things, good things, things I always wanted but things that were making me feel empty and desolate and isolated and scared. So scared because I could not control my fate. I could not control where I was born and where I could stay or live and I felt my life was slipping away and it made me distant, reclusive and solemn and people would ask “are you okay” “is everything alright” and they would say “you are being really quiet” and I would fake a smile and fake a dance and fake a sentence and fake it all and I felt myself collapsing and I wanted to run away again and push people away because I was scared that I would have to leave anyway and it is easier to leave when there is distance. That was always how it was in my life. Leaving was the hardest thing but distance made it easier — cutting someone off had never been hard and maybe that is an incredibly hard thing to admit because it seems so cold and it is. 

It was cold and I shivered and tightened my thick wool scarf around my neck. I loved it in that place, in that far away place that I use to loathe. I can’t even remember why I used to hate it so much but that feeling was so far away now. That feeling was replaced with a heavy, full warm hug of a feeling and the thought of losing it made me weep. It made me so sad I could barely breathe and it made me push away and it made me dissolve and hide away in my dark room or in a cold park filled with people but where I felt so alone. Alone was how I had been for such a long time and I was ready to change and I felt that opportuntiy was being taken from me.

 I pushed my legwarmers up and wiggled my bare toe through the hole in my shoes and walked towards the park next to the Planetarium that seemed to be centuries old and I thought about how far away stars are and how there are planets 5000 times the size of Earth and I thought about how that made me feel even more distant and small. But somehow it gave me comfort in that fact that we are all really just small specks on a small speck in a vast universe. And maybe my problems didn’t matter that much and I was so damn lucky and I should think about that. 

I breathed in deeply and the cold air swirled inside me and I gulped it down and I inhaled and exhaled and did it all over again and it got easier. 

Brilliant cover letter c/o Letters of Note.
“When copywriter Robert Pirosh landed in Hollywood in 1934, eager to become a screenwriter, he wrote and sent the following letter to all the directors, producers, and studio executives he could think of. The approach worked, and after securing three interviews he took a job as a junior writer with MGM.

Pirosh went on to write for the Marx Brothers, and in 1949 won an Academy Award for his Battleground script.”

(Source: Dear Wit.)

Dear Sir:

I like words. I like fat buttery words, such as ooze, turpitude, glutinous, toady. I like solemn, angular, creaky words, such as straitlaced, cantankerous, pecunious, valedictory. I like spurious, black-is-white words, such as mortician, liquidate, tonsorial, demi-monde. I like suave “V” words, such as Svengali, svelte, bravura, verve. I like crunchy, brittle, crackly words, such as splinter, grapple, jostle, crusty. I like sullen, crabbed, scowling words, such as skulk, glower, scabby, churl. I like Oh-Heavens, my-gracious, land’s-sake words, such as tricksy, tucker, genteel, horrid. I like elegant, flowery words, such as estivate, peregrinate, elysium, halcyon. I like wormy, squirmy, mealy words, such as crawl, blubber, squeal, drip. I like sniggly, chuckling words, such as cowlick, gurgle, bubble and burp.

I like the word screenwriter better than copywriter, so I decided to quit my job in a New York advertising agency and try my luck in Hollywood, but before taking the plunge I went to Europe for a year of study, contemplation and horsing around. 

I have just returned and I still like words. 

May I have a few with you?

Robert Pirosh
385 Madison Avenue
Room 610
New York
Eldorado 5-6024

You have to have an idea of what you are going to do, but it should be a vague idea.
Home is where the art is!
Storytelling and Connecting Through Sound

Today my 2nd piece for thecommunitymanager.com was published. It focuses on how to tell stories through sound. Thanks for reading :)

This was originally posted on thecommunitymanager.com as part of their CM Stories. Here’s my story.

Over a year and a half ago with sleep in my eyes, I boarded a late night flight to Berlin from California. I had a month to get to Germany after I accepted the job and I wasted no time in transit. I packed my bags quickly, sold almost all my possessions and before I knew it I was working at SoundCloud, helping to manage an online community of over 18 million sound creators & digital storytellers. That’s where my story begins.

A land far far away

So you might be wondering, “why the heck did you turn your life upside down and move thousands of miles away to a city in a foreign country for a job?” This is something that all my loved ones asked me as well (they are still asking) and the answer is simple: opportunity. I wasted no time to grab hold of it. I saw SoundCloud as something extraordinary, unique and incredibly exciting. It was a startup in a land far away that was generating a tremendous amount of buzz for what it achieved via its waveforms and user experience but more enticing for me was the community aspect. It was clear that the community was important, which for a small startup is not usually the case – here the community is at the forefront, led brilliantly by evangelist David Noel. When I looked more into the connections that were being cultivated across the globe through sound via the platform, I was awestruck.

When I saw the ad for my job pop up on the SoundCloud dashbox I felt like it was screaming my name, calling to me from across the Atlantic! It was MY job. I WAS going to get it. I immediately applied. Everything about helping manage a community of connected sound creators and enthusiasts made my heart beat so quickly and feverishly that I was compelled to create a website dedicated to getting me hired (inspired by 37Signals). SoundCloud seemed different to me and I knew the only way to get heard was to stand out and I made as much noise as possibly. I hooted and hollered and I got hired.

Listening, creativity and inspirations

I guess I have always been a community manager in some way. I mean I think it is difficult to really train to be a CM, there isn’t exactly a major in University dedicated to the position, but in the past I had held roles that covered all the bases of what I do today. I think some things that I really need to be successful (and this goes for most CM positions) are: the ability to listen, be creative and continuously be inspired. For me, listening is important. I have to listen to my coworkers when they have advice for a new series on the blog, I have to listen to my manager when he gives me constructive feedback, I have to listen to a community member when she feels threatened or happy or sad. Really listening is something that I am getting better at and sometimes it is a struggle, but it is key to a role that centers around being empathetic, caring and fostering to a community of human individuals who are interacting digitally.

Creativity is also a huge part of my job. This is a quote I love: “Creativity is a drug I cannot live without.” — Cecil B. Demille. It is so true and in my position I am lucky enough to enjoy the opportunity to be creative everyday. I get to tell stories through sound, think up cool new ways to engage our community aurally and I have the opportunity to play with language (words are my favorite playmate)! To stay creative, I make sure to look at things that inspire me. Some of my favorite inspirations are:Brainpickings, The 99percent, The Paris Reviewand Swiss Miss. Looking at these sites daily lights a fire under my butt and helps to encourage me to stay on top of my creativity!

The journey continues

We have come to the end of my story but in actuality it is only the beginning. I am still evolving in my role as an ambassador and representative to help share community members voices/sounds. 

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