This is How Seth Godin Changed My Life For Good

Shattering the illusion of corporate security and picking myself

Seth Godin and Rebecca Murauskas. Photo by Akimbo Staff.

It’s 5:30 PM, two days before Thanksgiving, and I step into an elevator with the COO of the Fortune 15 company that I work for.

He and I have a good relationship and a shared interest in mountain climbing which we chat about periodically. I’ve also been working on a huge transformational project with him for a few months, and our camaraderie has expanded.

As the ground floor nears, he turns to me and says, “Have you heard about the leadership summit we want to host?”

“Yes,” I reply. I was privy to some vague chatter and had started to marinate on ideas.

“Sounds great! How may I be helpful?” I add.

“We want to gather our top leaders for a week and make a big impact.”

I remember thinking, fantastic! We can make the event engaging and fun. Maybe release pieces of our transformational project? Plan it over a year and build up the hype.

As the elevator doors open, he casually mentions, “I was thinking right after Easter would be a good time.”

I froze. I can imagine the look on my face was sheer terror.

This “important man,” who was my boss’s boss, wanted us to pull together 6,000 people from across the US to an unknown location for a week’s worth of a leadership summit with four months of planning time during the holidays while we still did our “regular jobs.”

My internal first-blush reaction was nothing short of four or five curse words. I may have mustered a fake smile as he turned to hop in his car.

“Happy Thanksgiving,” he shouted.

Hidden in Plain Sight

Over the next few days, I’m rattled. I can’t sleep. It’s Thanksgiving, and I’m supposed to be enjoying time with my family and friends over great food, and all I can think about is this event.

The following week a handful of my colleagues and I get to work. My role is to coordinate the speakers and entertainment, lead a community service project for the attendees to give back, and coordinate the event decor and signage. Oh, and I’m still working on this company-wide transformational project. Needless to say, I’m stressed.

I reached out to my network and asked for recommendations on speakers. I started googling, making lists of potentials, and contacted a handful of talent agencies.

As I sat at my desk, brain-storming, I glanced over at my bookshelf. I remember thinking, which of these authors could be a fit? Maybe Howard Shultz, Simon Sinek, Ed Viesturs, or Tony Hsieh. Then I saw the bright green cover of The Icarus Deception and knew Seth Godin needed to go at the top of the list.

I was familiar with Seth and his conscious leadership and unique marketing. I got his daily blog but was in a phase where the barrage of work emails was overwhelming. I saved his messages, intending to read them later, but rarely did.

Clicking on a few blog posts, I’m quickly reminded why Seth made an impact on me. The topics of leading with authenticity, being vulnerable and generous with employees and customers, and remaining curious through change leaped off the page.

Could I convince my Fortune 15 leadership team that this mindful corporate renegade should be one of the people to deliver a keynote at our event?

As fate would have it, I got an email a few weeks later that Seth was hosting a one-day seminar in New York City. The fee was nominal, and I could charge it to my corporate expense account. One of my best friends lives in the city. I would have a free place to stay and get to spend some time with her as well. I was in.

I was close to finalizing our speaker lineup when I attended Seth’s seminar. We had one slot open that kept evading confirmation. Folks’ schedules shifted, or their message wasn’t quite right. As I arrived in New York, I was hopeful Seth’s event would give me the ammunition I needed to persuade my senior leaders how his messages could rally morale and impact our company goals.

The Power of Storytelling

The seminar venue wasn’t far from my friend’s apartment. I took the subway and walked a few blocks to the theater. As I got near, I noticed a familiar clean-shaven head with yellow plastic-framed glasses walking ten feet in front of me. It was Seth. I felt like I was following the pied piper to the dance.

The attendee count was relatively small, at under 300. The intimacy of the group promoted a relaxed, lighthearted feeling. I remember thinking how grateful I was to be amongst other like-minded people.

Seth took the stage with a microphone and a single notecard in his hand and did what Seth does best — tell stories.

He spoke about marketing and engagement as well as creativity, innovation, and shipping our art.

Seth shared story after story, example after example, of small businesses, start-ups, and ordinary people paying attention and generously solving problems where the solutions turned into viable products, services, or companies.

It was a collective learning session guided by the power of storytelling.

Attendees bravely stood up and shared their biggest professional challenges and artistic blocks. Hearing others grapple with similar problems as I was facing allowed for common threads and previously hidden solutions to arise. It was magical.

Seth encouraged us not to settle, to pick ourselves, and always make a ruckus — to share our gifts with the world and unabashedly inspire change.

Here I was, supposedly figuring out what he could share with my Fortune 15 colleagues to motivate them to achieve our company goals, and all I could think was, I have to leave my job — it’s literally killing me.

The Illusion of Certainty

I was working at a corporate gig that paid me well and had great benefits. The people were terrific, and I got to be part of some cool projects.

Unfortunately, the culture promoted working long hours with unrealistic expectations for the resources available. There wasn’t a time when I didn’t have half a dozen high priorities I was supposed to be “laser-focused” on.

I spent most of my days in meetings and on calls and often did my actual work on evenings and weekends. I was always behind on the flood of emails.

The pace was daunting and incessant. I felt like I was never caught up, let alone ahead.

The conference with Seth titled “Pick Yourself” was all about connection and creation. I struggled to do both at that time of my life.

I didn’t have the capacity for authenticity or vulnerability. I buried them with superficial distractions and work. My life was a show, and I was the performer.

I was a perfectionist, codependent, busyness addict who sought my worth outside myself and wore a plastic smile that said, everything is fine.

I was unfulfilled, itching with discontent, and had no clue how much my body overflowed with anxiety and fear. Subsequently, I was often sick, repeatedly blaming it on travel and not enough sleep.

Mostly, I was in love with the false idea of certainty and couldn’t see a way out.

Yet, in rare, calm moments, I sensed a nudge toward something different. Being at Seth’s seminar surrounded by seekers ignited the flame that would lead me to the light.

Creating Raving Fans

Seth’s philosophy is to overdeliver, create buzz, and garner word-of-mouth positivity. At the event, we received a handful of unique gifts that promoted an emotional connection.

Attendee prize packs included a full-size vinyl record of The Icarus Deception enclosed in an artful dust jacket, not one, but two copies of the 813-page collector book This Might Work, and a few framable prints of Seth’s blog post also entitled Pick Yourself.

This is where the impactful lessons of overdelivering shined. First of all, who records the audio of their book on a vinyl record? How cool. Only Seth.

The book This Might Work is a fascinating compilation of Seth’s blog posts over six years alongside impactful artwork. Attendees received two copies — one for themselves and one to share with a friend.

A reminder, this isn’t a regular-sized 275-page book that would occupy a typical bookshelf. It’s a hefty, colorful coffee table book that weighs fifteen pounds and is three inches thick. The now out-of-print book currently sells for $195 on Amazon.

To take it a step further, Seth’s team knew many attendees flew in for the event, myself included. Rather than having us lug 30 pounds of books through the airport, they shipped them to attendees’ homes.

I was blown away! Not only was the event content relevant and thought-provoking, but the attendees were forthcoming and brave, and the touches of intentional mindfulness were present at every turn.

I was eager to comb through the plans I was implementing at our company’s leadership summit for ways to replicate them.

Breakpoint

After lunch, a line formed to take a photo with Seth and share a brief greeting or ask a question. As the person in front of me finished, I’m ushered forward to take a picture. I hurriedly step up, habitually put my arm around Seth’s back, and smiled at the photographer.

After the photo, Seth casually turned to me and said something expectant like, “How are you?” or “Are you enjoying the conference?” He looked directly into my eyes with a look of genuine sincerity to hear my response, and I froze.

I felt like a lost child standing in front of a wise guru.

Tears instantly streamed down my face, and I melted into a soggy heap of overwhelm.

It was as if the valve was released on my emotional dam. The years of pent-up stress, shame, and discontent of selling out, stuffing my feelings, and not living my life’s purpose came gushing forth.

Seth reached and hugged me tightly as I intermittently sobbed and gasped for air.

After what seemed like an hour, I slowly caught my breath and regained a sense of inhabiting my body.

I finally stepped away and apologized. My face flushed with the heat of embarrassment as I noticed the tear stains I’d left on the shoulder of his suit jacket.

Seth, unshaken, looked at me intently and said, “You’ll find your way.”

Metamorphosis

Authority?

You want the authority to create, to be noticed and to make a difference? You’re waiting for permission to stand up and speak up and ship?

Sorry. There’s no authority left.

Once you understand that there are problems just waiting to be solved, once you realize that you have all the tools and all the permission you need, then opportunities to contribute abound. Not the opportunity to have your resume picked from the pile, but the opportunity to lead.

Seth Godin

I had no idea what it meant to pick myself.

In that phase of my life, I tied my worth to what others thought of me and my seemingly successful career and relationship.

I was too busy hiding my emotional incompetence. I was too busy striving to impress others. I was always angling to get picked and then incessantly trying to stay in the club.

I anxiously awaited permission to do the work my heart desired from an elusive, imaginary leader.

Not knowing my own voice, I was lost in the shell of a persona I’d created.

I didn’t know what to do and meandered around in the socially acceptable muck of busyness, seeking direction and hope.

And yet, from that day forth, the spark existed. It lingered in my body as an ever-present hunger for meaning.

I knew one day, the spark would ignite, and I would be unable to ignore the flames. I would be forced to step out of my comfort zone and conjure the courage to make different choices.

Once indoctrinated into the world of my own possibility, I couldn’t unsee what I had seen. I couldn’t un-feel what I felt on that spring day in New York City.

I was the gal who was chasing the CEO to mentor me, for someone, anyone, to see my potential and pick me. I didn’t know what exactly my potential was, but I knew my purpose was more than I allowed — more than I could see or even imagine.

It was another four years before I left that fancy corporate job and another two years of trying to make it work with a mid-sized lifestyle brand that ended up getting bought out by a conglomerate before I finally dared to pick myself and leap.

The day after my 44th birthday, I called my boss and quit my six-figure job.

My husband and I sold most of our belongings, rented out our house, and moved to Panama to live inexpensively while launching our passion projects into new careers.

In April, I started writing on Medium and am in the midst of self-publishing my first book through the help of Seth’s Akimbo platform and my new writing community.

I never dreamed I’d be a writer or an author, but I’ve been a storyteller my whole life.

The difference is I learned how to recognize my fearful lizard brain that screams, “You don’t know how to do that,” and do it anyway.

I’ve learned how to write vulnerable stories, highlighting moments of life that connect the human experience and allow us to grow.

No one picked me.

A Harper Collins publisher didn’t call.

Glennon Doyle didn’t send me a DM volunteering to be my mentor.

Elizabeth Gilbert didn’t share an encouraging email cheering me on.

Six years after my tearful hug with Seth, I finally dared to pick myself and publish without permission.

It was a long time coming, but the change is here, and I couldn’t be more grateful for the nudge of inspiration.

. . .

Rebecca Murauskas is a Life Coach for professionals. She helps people be free of stress and overwhelm, reclaim their purpose, and feel fulfilled. Rebecca and her husband, Adam, abandoned their careers and moved to Panamá in 2019 to pursue passions for helping people heal. Take the free Time Saver Quiz and find additional content at RebeccaMurauskas.com.