Given the abandon with which I jumped into the blogging world, you might be surprised to find that the lag time between buying my domain name and publishing my first post was 5 months…and the blog itself was in idea-gestation phase for nearly a year before I claimed my online space.  By some stroke of dumb luck, I discovered Scott Bishop’s 28 Day Challenge on the same day I authored my first post.  Without giving it a second thought, I got on board and faithfully rolled out a post a day for the month of February.  I had committed, and not posting was not an option.

My posting has fallen off as of late, and it’s not because writing hasn’t been on my mind.  It has been – I can’t tell you how many articles and informative tidbits I’ve bookmarked as blog fodder.  The problem?  Analysis paralysis.  I’ve been “what-ifing” myself to death, leaping from one idea to the next, writing bits and pieces without committing to any idea long enough to fully develop it.  It feels like I’m accomplishing something (and there’s nothing wrong with brainstorming), but staying in this ideation mode is slowly destroying my capacity to create.  Contrary to popular belief, having more options is not always beneficial to one’s decision-making.

Dr. Sheena Iyengar, a management professor at Columbia University, demonstrated the pitfalls of having an abundance of options in her infamous jam study.  The study “showed that when shoppers are given the option of choosing among smaller and larger assortments of jam, they show more interest in the larger assortment. But when it comes time to pick just one, they’re 10 times more likely to make a purchase if they choose among six rather than among 24 flavors of jam.”

To further demonstrate the more serious implications of having too many options, Iyengar studied more than 800,000 employees’ participation in their employer-sponsored 401(k) plans.   She found that “When given two choices, 75 percent [of employees] participated, but when given 59 choices, only 60 percent did. In addition, the greater the number of options, the more cautious people were with their investment strategies.”

That’s the terrible thing about staying in “what-if” mode – the more options you develop for yourself, the harder it is to actually turn those thoughts into tangible actions.

How do you defeat analysis paralysis?  I’ve found that making one seemingly insignificant decision can trigger a waterfall effect that spills over into other areas of your life.  I’d been hemming and hawing about changing my hairstyle, and I finally did.  In a big way.  Freshly cut and newly blond, I felt empowered by the results of my decision.  I went home, waded through my bookmarks, and decided on a list of topics I’ll write about in the upcoming month.  I stopped thinking about rearranging my living room and finally getting my spare bedroom in order and actually did it.

Sometimes, the only way to move forward is to brashly take a healthy number of options off the table.  In his brilliant The Art of War, Sun Tzu advises “At the critical moment, the leader of an army acts like one who has climbed up a height and then kicks away the ladder behind him…He burns his boats and breaks his cooking-pots; like a shepherd driving a flock of sheep, he drives his men this way and that, and nothing knows whither he is going.”

Take a stand.  Make a decision and move forward.  What-ifing keeps you in a safe zone – one in which you never stick your neck out and allow the could-happens to come to fruition.  It’s like bowling with bumpers – easy and risk-free, but without copious amounts of alcohol, ultimately unsatisfying.

This past week has been full of firsts.

I just got back from my first SXSW, which, along with being the first career-related conference I’ve ever been to, was my first time traveling alone.  It was also the first time I fully realized that, like so many of my good friends and peers, I’m plagued by the Impostor Syndrome.

The Impostor Syndrome was first identified in the research of psychotherapists Pauline Clance and Suzanne Imes in 1978.  Their work showed that “many women with notable achievements also had high levels of self-doubt.  This deep lack of confidence – which couldn’t be equated with anxiety or other disorders – appeared to involve a deep sense of inauthenticity…these individuals often believe they are ‘fooling’ other people, ‘faking it’ or getting by because they have the right contacts or are just plain lucky.”

One of my dearest friends was just offered a great position with Amazon.com.  When she told me she was going to be interviewing out in Seattle, there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that she’d blow them away.  She launched her career by taking an opportunity at a fashion startup and making herself indispensible – she taught herself to code on the job and forged her own niche in the company.  In spite of her tremendous success, she felt undeserving of the position.

I never understood how such a beautiful and accomplished woman could be so hesitant to embrace and espouse her own talents – to own up to her successes and not minimize her accomplishments – until I realized I was doing the same thing.

According to public speaker and consultant Valerie Young, Impostor Syndrome can prevent sufferers “from fully enjoying their success and seizing opportunities, and can cause them to overwork to compensate for supposed deficiencies…Internalizing these beliefs, rather than discussing them can lead to other emotional issues, including depression and low self-esteem. Over time, harbored Impostor Syndrome can make it difficult to accept praise for any level of accomplishment.”

Young identifies three elements at the heart of Impostor Syndrome:

1. A complex view of success
2. A warped definition of competence
3. The way we respond to failure

At SXSW, it’s easy to feel unsuccessful when it seems as though everyone around you is working for an up-and-coming start-up or an agency that wields tremendous clout, and within a few hours of my arrival, the Impostor Syndrome had reared its ugly head. I began feeling like I had no right to be there, and that I had tricked myself into thinking I would “fit in” in the company of so many intelligent, motivated, and creative people.

After awhile, I realized that the vast majority of the attendees weren’t in their early 20s, and were there on behalf of their employer.  I was the exception to both of the rules, but in no way did that speak less of me.  It was easy for me to talk about nearly anything with them – and after successfully holding down my end of a conversation with Dan Ariely, I focused less on titles and agencies and more on the people themselves.

I also felt out of the loop (and thus inadequate) when my peers were name-dropping and discussing the merits of one tech blogger compared to another…which made it easy for me to fall into the second trap of the impostor syndrome: evaluating my competence and skills based something completely off-base; in this case, my name-dropping skills.  Paris Hilton can probably list off who’s who in the film industry, but that doesn’t mean she’s really an actress.  I reminded myself that competence isn’t contingent on one’s ability to keep up with casual industry banter, but rather, on successfully employing the skills and tools that drive the industry.

I went to SXSW because I’m passionate about what it is that I do; I wanted to seize the opportunity to learn from thought-leaders and connect with peers who have a similar inclination to be successful and stay on the cutting edge of an ever-evolving field.

Anyone who allows themselves to feel like an impostor in that situation is simply committing self-sabotage.

So, instead of damning myself to continue to feel discouraged, incompetent, or like a fraud, I readily admitted to not knowing Mark Cuban from Clay Shirky.  I owned the feeling that I was a bit overwhelmed, ridiculously excited, and completely out of my comfort zone.  And once I did so, I came into my own and had one of the best trips of my life.

Failing to acknowledge our own humanity — our insecurities as well as our talents and abilities — is the ultimate impostor act.

It still blows my mind that some organizations are genuinely unwilling to foray into social media.  One of the organizations I had the opportunity to work with was on the fence for months about launching a Facebook Fan page.   They attended several speaker events touting the value of social media, spoke with businesses who had embraced it, and had our firm put together a calendar of topics and comprehensive guidelines for the page.  In spite of developing a protocol for nearly every “what if” that could happen, they still put the kabosh on the idea.

Seeing the degree of corporate backlash and resistance social media advocates still face vaguely reminded me of some hard-wrought change that occurred a few thousand years ago.  Next time you run into a social media stone wall, take a few pointers from Moses (yes, the guy from the Bible; no, I’m not kidding).

1.  Be persistent, and present convincing arguments for your case.

It took Moses 10 times to finally get the go-ahead for his journey out of Egypt.  If you’re passionate about getting your organization to embrace social media, don’t give up the first time you’re shot down.  Ask again, and cite specific, concrete examples of similar businesses (preferably within your industry) that have seen results after adopting some degree of social media marketing.  Stay abreast of current trends, and condense any relevant research findings or studies into a brief format that you can quickly present to the gate keepers.  You can find some excellent examples of social media case studies here, here, and here.

2.  When you get the go-ahead, don’t dawdle.

You should be ready to pull the trigger the moment you get the green light to proceed.  It didn’t take the Israelites months to get out of Egypt; similarly, your plan requires an element of urgency.  Have a list of key industry and consumer contacts to follow on Twitter.  Know the hashtags that are popular with your target audience.  Push to get your social icons placed on your company’s homepage as soon as your pages are set up.   The longer you hesitate before jumping in, the more likely it is that your commitment to the initiative could be drawn into question (especially if you’ve been relentlessly pushing the idea for months).  Your organization’s naysayers will jump on the “lag time” to continue to argue against the idea; by getting off to a running start, you minimize their opportunity to do so.

3.  Work to get the big guy on your side from the get-go….

…so when your middle manager flips out and decides to rally the troops against you, you have the big guns to drown out his arguments.

4.  Set some “commandments,” but don’t try to control everything.

You don’t need a 50 page manual to dictate your social media policy.  If you develop a social media marketing plan that requires you to submit every tweet, update and link to legal for approval at least 30 days before you post them, you might as well nix the idea of “social.”  So much for timeliness and interaction.  You can’t program 90 tweets into Hoot Suite and leave it to run itself, hoping to God that no one tweets back something you may actually have to respond to.  When it comes to the rules, keep them clear, simple, and focused on the key issues.

5.  Know where you’re headed.

If you wield your social media tools correctly, odds are good that you have a community forming after a few months.  Your following may not rival that of Whole Foods Market, but don’t underestimate the power of connecting and engaging with just a few individuals who love your company and your product.  The question you need to continually remind yourself of is “where do I want to lead them?”  Do you want to use your interactions to conduct consumer research?  To get their ideas and feedback about new products?  You can’t simply tell them what it is your company is going to do – you need to create a flow of ideas and information that is both useful to them and makes them feel useful.  If you don’t, you provide no incentive for them to continue to follow you and invest their time with your brand.

When you make a promise to your community, deliver the goods.

Hopefully you’ll be able to do so without unleashing swarms of locusts.

I discovered The Art of Manliness when a friend sent me their guide to getting a manly haircut a la Mad Men.  Their mission?  Reviving the lost art of manliness.  I was hooked, and I’ve been faithfully reading ever since.

I love this site.  I regularly wish the founders would branch off and do something for women, but in all honesty, there’s really no need.  Even though I’m not in their target demographic, I’ve still learned far more about the opposite sex (and gleaned tons of practical information and intelligent advice that’s completely gender-neutral) from the site than any female-specific “lifestyle guide.”

You want relationship advice?

Some sample posts from TAOM: “How to Apologize Like a Man,” “Being the Rock,” “The Road Map to the Perfect First Date,” and “Buying the Perfect Engagement Ring.” Pretty solid, no?

I hopped over to the Cosmo site to see what their latest and greatest relationship advice was (they claim to be the “lifestylist for millions of fun fearless females who want to be the best they can in every area of their lives”).  Well, not only does Cosmo not do relationships (it’s Sex & Love), their current feature articles included the oh-so-invaluable “Get Hit on All The Time,” “What He Tells his Friends About You” and “His 10 Biggest Love Lies.”

I’m pretty sure those are the same headlines every “Women’s Lifestyle Guide” has shoved through the thesaurus feature of Word and recycled for the past three decades.  How insightful.  How empowering, to dive in and waste another 4 minutes of your life reading some inane article attempting to explain what’s going on “inside his head.”  If the women writing those articles can actually explain the inner workings of your partner’s mind (or your mind, male readers)…is that really something to be grateful for?  Yech.

Even the majority of posts under The Art of Manliness’ category “A Man’s Life” apply to men and women alike (case in point: Hustle: The Key to Success). Not only is the site’s content genuinely interesting, well-written and worth the time it takes to read, I adore its aesthetic.  Their interpretation of manliness doesn’t reek of wanna-be Chuck Bass-es on the prowl for their latest conquest.  If, in reading any of these articles, you think “Oh, that sounds like [insert boyfriend's name here]/[something I'd do for a lady]“…kudos to you.

I’d suggest adding The Art of Manliness to your bookmarks (and your significant other’s) pronto.

Shaun White is the name and face of snowboarding.  If anyone doubted his status as a legend-in-the-making, he put those thoughts to rest with last week’s gold medal winning run in Vancouver.  He is to the sport what Gretzky is to hockey, or Jordan is to basketball.  They are larger than life, and you need no knowledge of or interest in their respective sport to know who they are and what they stand for: dedication, determination, and greatness.  Another individual embodying these qualities, Abe Lincoln, was and is arguably the greatest president in U.S. History.

Aside from capturing the imaginations of thousands of Americans and forever securing their place in our nation’s lore, White and Lincoln have something else in common.

When preparing for battle, they isolate themselves from the rest of the world.  And, what emerges from their isolation makes history.

Lincoln sought refuge from the most troubling and tumultuous times of his presidency at Soldier’s Home.  By removing himself from the immediate political pressures of Washington, he was able to lose himself in his work (he wrote the second draft of the Emancipation Proclamation here).

According to the program administrator of President Lincoln’s College, Lincoln also “used his time at Soldier’s Home to ready the political machine for the upcoming election in 1864.”  Though he was in isolation, thoughts of his opposition were never far from his mind.  Lincoln actually used the retreat to hold clandestine meetings with notorious leaders of the other side, and constantly gauged the political and military landscape in which he was operating.

Similarly, White sought solitude in preparing for his trip to the Olympics on a personal 550-foot halfpipe in the back country of Copper Mountain, Colorado.  Built for him by his sponsor Red Bull and accessible only by snowmobile or helicopter, White was able to train without worrying his tricks would be instantly mimicked by his competition.  He could count on his friends and coaches to keep an eye on the playing field while he threw himself into attempting tricks never before seen every day for nearly two months.

In his interview with CBS’s 60 Minutes, White explained his decision to train in solitude saying “Ya know, it’s just a really competitive sport and to…show up and do something new that’s kinda, gonna blow some people away would be really nice.”

While Lincoln’s self-imposed isolation seems understandable given the enormous challenges he faced, I’m intrigued by White’s decision to retreat from the spotlight (and yes, I’m aware that a Double McTwist is hardly a matter of national importance).  Their temperaments couldn’t be more different; Lincoln’s brooding melancholy seems a stark contrast to White’s unbridled enthusiasm.  And, while it might make sense to train alone given the individual nature of snowboarding, many individual athletes train in teams (i.e. Lance Armstrong).  But, I suppose when you’re already the best the world has ever seen, only you can push yourself to elevate your game.

When setting out to do something that you’ve never done before, do you benefit more from having a group of people to surround and encourage you?  Or do you do your best work in an isolated environment, where you can single-mindedly pursue the challenge at hand?

I don’t know when or why I became so fearful.

Of meeting new people.  Getting out of my comfort zone.  Feeling vulnerable.

I used to relish the chance to do the unexpected and experience the unfamiliar.

I was the only girl from my high school to come to college at UW-Madison.  I knew two people here, and I couldn’t have been more excited.

I only knew one other person when I signed up to go to Breckenridge, Colorado with the university’s ski and snowboard club.  She proceeded to break her arm, leaving me rooming with 7 other people I’d never met.

It was one of the best weeks of my life.

Four of my roommates had been in Colorado for a week already, so I didn’t have a chance to meet them on the bus ride out.  I walked into the room I’d claimed for myself to find one of them unpacking his stuff.  “Hi. I’m Josh. Which side is yours?” (The room had one bed.)  Uhm, well hello, nice to meet you too.

Josh and his friends were adrenaline junkies who didn’t think twice about tackling a tree-filled run at breakneck speeds or hitting the back bowls.  We’re talking stuff that was completely out of my comfort zone.  The “black diamond” trails I’d learned on in Wisconsin were glorified bunny hills when compared to even the intermediate runs out west.

So, naturally, when they asked me to hit up the Imperial Summit Bowl on my second day there, I jumped at the chance. (Ok, I might have had just a teensy bit of ulterior motivation; a girl who happened to be into the guy I had my eye on was going, and I didn’t want to be shown up.)

The Imperial Express SuperChair is the highest chair lift in North America, and had just opened a few weeks before our trip.  As we made our way to the base of the lift, I was fine – gleeful, actually.  Then we started our ascent, and I realized just how steep this run was, and how far out of my league I was about to go.

When we got to the summit, I was ready to park my butt on my board and toboggan my way down the hill.  There was no way I was going to make it down.

The guys strapped in, and I followed suite.  Was I actually going to do this?

Josh looked at me, grinned, and yelled “BALLS TO THE WALL!!!” before bombing down the hill.

So I went for it, and made it all of 30 feet before I ate it.  Hard.  But I got up and kept going.

I fell on my ass more than I ever have in my life, and I was pretty sure that if I didn’t break my neck, I would at least lose a few teeth.  But I made it to the bottom, board in one piece, with a full set of chompers.

For a seasoned pro, my “run” of the Imperial Bowl would be laughable.  It was far from graceful, and my technique was atrocious.

But pushing myself beyond my comfort zone felt like a tremendous success in and of itself.  It’s because of that one run that I started doing the runs that enabled me to finish the trip twice the snowboarder I was when I arrived.

Success isn’t black and white; there are shades of grey.

Sometimes, it’s in the in-betweens that we truly grow.

Gratitude’s been getting a lot of hype lately, and not without good cause. Research has found that people who keep a gratitude journal report higher levels of optimism and fewer physical ailments than their non-journaling counterparts. Even if you write for only one week, you’re likely to be demonstrably happier than those who never kept a journal three months after you stopped.

I started thinking about gratitude after writing this post, and began to wonder why so much of what we’ve been hearing about gratitude focuses not on sharing it, but on keeping it to ourselves.

As a final assignment in the class I took about customer co-creation in new product development, we wrote a letter to someone in the class thanking them for their contributions. We as students co-create the educational experience we have in the classroom: part of what we learn is determined by our classmates’ perspectives.  I’ll admit that I was a little skeptical of the assignment – it seemed silly to HAVE to thank someone, but as I wrote my letter, I realized just how much I’d learned from my classmate’s willingness to speak up and share her ideas.

The final day of class rolled around, and our thank-yous were exchanged.  I walked across the classroom to deliver my letter, and when I got back to my desk, I had two letters on my chair.  And they kept coming.  Out of a class of roughly 40, I wound up with six.

I was shocked.  I’d just finished one of the most disappointing and stressful months in my life.  I was racked with self-doubt and wanted nothing more than anything to curl up and hibernate for the next six months.

When I got home, I read them, and promptly proceeded to cry.

Sometimes, we need just to hear that our efforts haven’t gone unnoticed – that who we are and what we do has made a difference in the life of someone else.

Instead of keeping what you’re grateful for written down in a journal where no one else will ever see it, share it.  Let someone know they’ve made a difference in your life — even if they have no idea who you are.

Have you ever thanked someone for inspiring you (or been thanked by someone else), even though you’ve never met?  How do you express gratitude?

So, here it is: the obligatory Valentine’s-Day-is-looming-so-I’m-going-to-write-about-love post.  It’s probably a little different than the heart-warming tales of true love you’ll find scattered around the blogosphere, but I promise not to be one of those sullen singles who would rather undergo a spinal tap than acknowledge that true love really is great.  It is.  But, in my opinion, no amount of endorphins and effort can make your love last in a truly satisfying way if you haven’t taken the words of a certain Russian writer to heart (despite her penchant for amphetamine and married lovers).

I swear by my life, and my love of it, that I will never live for the sake of another man, nor ask another man to live for mine.

When we think of love gurus and relationship experts, Ayn Rand probably doesn’t come to mind.

Whatever your opinion of Atlas Shrugged and Objectivism, I believe that you aren’t capable of truly loving someone else until you love, and live for, yourself.  Until you do, you’ll constantly battle with the lingering self-doubt that you (yes, YOU) could indeed be worthy of another person’s love and affection.

You can not, and will not, lead a fulfilling life if you’re always willing to subordinate your desires and values to those of another.  You must be cognizant of your own purpose; your aim; your desired ends before you create a life with someone else.

Until you live for your own sake, it becomes all too easy to fall into the role of a caretaker; helping your significant other achieve his or her goals and objectives while putting your own on hold.  And there they’re likely to remain, until at some point in your relationship you realize how unfulfilled you are–and you’re faced with accepting the status quo or suddenly explaining to your partner that you’re unhappy because you’ve been pouring all of your energy into their wants and needs.  Neither scenario is appealing.

I understand that it takes time to figure out what we’re living for.  It’s a process–no one rolls out of bed one day to realize they’ve somehow achieved self-actualization overnight.  But, I believe that  until you have a well-developed sense of self, and the strength to say no when you believe another’s ends don’t justify the means, the relationship you’re in is a ticking time bomb.

If you’re the person in a relationship that expects your wants and needs to take priority every time, all the time….well, best of luck to you.   Chances are you’re on the fast track to losing one lover and taking two new ones named Ben & Jerry.

After reading Leia’s great post, I decided to get in on Terry Starbucker’s contest to win a free trip to Chicago’s  SOBCon2010.   The conference sounds like an amazing opportunity, and besides, this thank-you/shout out has been a long time coming.

I’ve only met Rebecca once, and I would be surprised if she remembered.  (Since then, we’ve connected through the book club I started on Brazen Careerist, and I’m hoping she’ll be at this month’s meeting!) She and the co-founders of Brazen Careerist spoke at a business school panel I attended on leveraging the power of social media in your career.  I got her card, and upon arriving home immediately began reading her blog modite.  I was blown away.

When none of my numerous final-round interviews resulted in a full-time job offer, and I felt like the world I’d envisioned for myself was falling apart, her post on the futility of making career plans provided some much needed perspective.  Sure, I could wallow in self-pity, or I could realize that perhaps I wasn’t intended to be analyzing sales of Lucky Charms at General Mills.  Maybe I should shoot for something outside the box; take risks; look outside the array of “top-notch” entry-level jobs that the business school had cherry-picked for soon-to-be graduates.

I’ve blogged previously during a challenging period in my life, but instead of taking my experiences and translating them into words that could give others hope, I focused more on chronicling the mundane day-to-day details of my struggle.  There were glimmers of the blogger I aspired to be in those posts, but ultimately I discontinued the blog because I had written myself into a room with no windows.

Seeing how instrumental Rebecca’s blog had been in shaping her career is what finally gave me the gumption I needed to put myself out there and launch ellelamode.com. When you have something to say, and say it well, people pay attention.  She made me realize that the biggest barricade to  becoming the leader I desire to be is my own self-doubt.

I admire the brand Rebecca has built for herself without losing a shred of authenticity (and, when she’s questioned whether or not she’s remaining true to herself, she confronts her feelings head on).  Unlike figures in the blogosphere who use the power of social media to over-share and then relish in the ensuing uproar, Rebecca writes her posts with a degree of restraint.  She uses her life experiences as a springboard—instead of talking about herself and offering some half thought-out “lessons,” she develops insights that encourage her readers to engage in self-reflection.  In my opinion, she strikes a perfect balance between personal & practical.

I may still be a long way away from having a finely-tuned personal brand, but elle la mode is a start.

And, as Rebecca has so often pointed out:

The opportunity is mine for the making.

It’s easy to fall into the mentality that if we’re going to take time to read, we should kill two birds with one stone—spend time with books that spell out how to get from “Good to Great” or become “indispensible.”

In this mindset, we lose sight of the fact that sometimes only fiction can illustrate the most important lessons in life in a compelling way that leads us to self-reflection and a greater awareness of who we are.  These conclusions are not suddenly dropped on us like cluster bombs, but develop in the days and weeks after we’ve turned the final page.

At the beginning of January, I set a goal to read 52 books in 52 weeks.  No sweat, right?  After all, in 3^rd Grade I managed to read over 100 books and own the Book It! Challenge in the process (the motivational power a personal pan pizza holds for an 8 year old still amazes me).  While most of my peers were still reading Pee Wee Scouts, I tackled Robin Cook’s Outbreak.  In hindsight, I’m not sure what my teachers thought about my mom’s parenting skills (I mean, who lets a 10-year old read A Time to Kill?) but having had the freedom to read whatever I wanted made me a life-long lover of books.

There was a point in my life where I felt guilty for taking the time to read fiction; that which didn’t directly tie into honing my personal strengths or keeping up with the latest in consumer behavior.  As part of this challenge, I’ve given myself permission to read anything and everything that piques my interest.  There are few things in life I enjoy more than spending an afternoon at Borders, which is where I stumbled across my latest read, The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle by Haruki Murakami.

What The Catcher in the Rye’s Holden Caufield is to adolescents, The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle’s Toru Okada is to twenty-somethings.  In the first chapter, Toru explains:

“I had quit my job at the beginning of April—the law job I had had since graduation.  Not that I quit for any special reason.  I didn’t dislike the work.  It wasn’t thrilling, but the pay was alright and the office atmosphere was friendly…Not that quitting would help me realize any particular hopes or prospects…If I stayed with the firm any longer, I’d be there for the rest of my life.”

His journey to eventual self-actualization continues through a chronicle of stories that run the gamut from suburbia in modern-day Tokyo to a zoo in World War II Japan.  Unlike fiction authors who beat their intended “lesson” into your head with brute force (Ayn Rand, anyone?), Murakami is subtle.  His writing is graceful, at times surreal, and elegantly powerful.

One character, a self-proclaimed “prostitute of the mind” named Creta Kano, explains:

“Whatever the process may have been, the fact remains that at the end of it, I found myself in a whole new container.  And once I had passed through the deep confusion…I sought to accept this new self as something truer—if for no other reason than that I had been enabled to escape my profound numbness, which had been a suffocating prison to me.”

Murakami beautifully leads us to the realization that our most important and profound self-discoveries can come in the most unlikely of places.

The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle has stayed with me since I finished it nearly a week ago, and already I know it’s a book I’ll read again and again.

Are there any works of fiction that have given you a new perspective on where you are in life?