Last night I arrived home after a week in Turkey. It was a truly replenishing week. Daily yoga, beautiful food, dips in the sea and a wonderful group of people to share it all with.
This year I opted not to take any of the day trips and instead treated myself to a massage. When the masseur came to book us in there was a bit of a hubbub over the price. Most things in Turkey are a great deal cheaper than at home, but the price for the massage was nearing UK prices. Myself and another lady booked in and I joked that perhaps he'd have the hands of God and it would be more than worth the price tag.
Hakan, the masseur, is a pretty big guy who spoke just about enough English. I admit I was just a little nervous going in for the massage. Massages haven't been a regular thing for me in the past and all the ones I've had have been with women.
But oh my, by the end of the hour I knew I'd be hard pressed to ever find a massage as good again. Ever. Ever ever.
Hakan pressed, manipulated and massaged 'almost' every part of my body. He checked in with me regularly to ask if I was ok. He told me that I should let him know at any time if I was in pain because 'we work together, ok?'
He bent, pushed, pulled and stretched every limb. There was so much variety in everything he did. And when he'd finished my back and moved onto my front, I could barely contain my giggles as I remembered the conversation we'd had the day before about the hands of God. He did. He really, really did.
He massaged my stomach, something I've never experienced before. He stood at my head and pulled and tilted it. He put his hands around my face and stretched my cheeks. He massaged my closed eyes, my temples and pulled my hair. Later, he sat me up and got me in a tight hold and squeezed all the air out of me with short, sharp movements. He moved round to my back and moved my head this way and that.
And then, even after all of that, he lay me back down and did some Reiki.
And when it was all over, he took my hands and helped me up instead of just leaving me there to sort myself out.
Suddenly this didn't seem like such an expensive massage and both myself and the other lady booked back in for a couple of days later.
Later that day, as I chatted with the other people on the holiday and they asked how my day had been, I raved and raved about Hakan's massage. In fact, I couldn't stop talking about it and told anyone who'd listen about how amazing it had been. As I talked, their eyes lit up and before long, Hakan had been booked by another five or six people.
And so to today's point...
Hakan, as it turns out, has been practising massage for 23 years and oh, did it show. I walked out of that massage not only feeling deeply relaxed and much more open in my body, but also hugely inspired to have witnessed a master at work.
When you're that good at what you do, marketing is easy. You don't need all the tricks and gimmicks designed to convince people to work with you or buy your stuff. Your work speaks for itself. You serve the person in front of you so powerfully that they do the rest by spreading the word.
It's about the details. And it's about having the desire and passion to continue learning and getting better and better at what you do. It's so rare to come across this level of quality that when it happens, you're really kind of blown away.
It's about standards. It's about the love and attention you put into your work. It's about going above and beyond and doing what most people can't be bothered to do.
So, as you build your business doing work you love, don't forget, as you're bombarded with messaging about various marketing tips and tricks you 'can't live without', that there's a lot to be said for stripping it back to what really matters.
And what really matters is getting seriously freaking good at what you do.
Love and courage,