This morning
I didn’t go out to feed the horses at their regular time. I didn’t think that it was important to get
out there because they are mostly on pasture now and don’t eat a lot of hay any
more. I figured that being late would
not be an issue. I learned a lesson, though.
About an
hour after the regular time, both horses, most especially Sam, became very
agitated. They ran down into the
pasture, tore back up, went down again at full speed and then raced back
up. They both ran all the way up to
their shelter and Sam started calling out as loud as he could. The sound he made was a very urgent call,
much louder than I have ever heard. He
tossed his head as I quickly put on a jacket and went out. He kept trotting around in circles, breathing
heavily and snorting.
It took some
time to get them both calmed. I stood
and talked to them, opened the barn so that they could see that all was well
and finally, they got back to normal.
Once I had filled a couple of unnecessary hay bags for them, they seemed
to realize that nothing had changed. After
that it was the day as usual.
I learned
that routine is far more important to them than I realized. For five years, I have gone out every morning
at around 8:30 am and either fed them or let them out into the pasture. They get the same treatment at night. When I was late today, it threw their whole
schedule off. They were nervous and
sensed that something was wrong.
Routine
permeates our lives. Even those of us
who like to take a different route to work every day or travel to different
places every year or even have a different breakfast each day practice a
routine of some sort. Time creates them. We still wake up at the same hour, depending
on the day of the week. We still pack
the same clothes for our trips, and I’d hazard a guess that the different
breakfasts are eaten at about the same time each day.
Changing it
up, though, is a great teacher. What
makes us uncomfortable and what doesn’t matter at all? A certain changed routine can cause all sorts
of anxiety and ruin a day or a week.
Some don’t matter at all. It
makes me wonder if I shouldn’t start doing more observing of my own habitual
activities, just to see which ones really don’t matter at all and which ones
actually become conscious and necessary.
Long ago I realized
that the same holds true with new customers in the embroidery business. I suspect that this is a truth for most
businesses. My company does contract B2B
work. Years ago, when we made a decision
to grow, the first thing that we did was to list as many of the common
complaints people made about other decorators.
We heard that poor service was the primary complaint, either because of
a lack of notification, late delivery or a sense that the company did not
really care about the customer. We
focused on changing the way that we operated in order to provide the answer to
those complaints.
It was a
surprise to learn that the world did not come rushing to our doorstep. On reflection, though, I discovered the
reason that it did not happen. It was
easier to deal with that one memorized phone number even though it led the
customer into yet another bad experience.
It was just much less complicated to make that call than go through what
seemed to be a major headache in order to start all over with someone else.
I quit
trying to fight habits at that point. If
a potential customer already had an embroiderer (which is most often the case),
I would only anticipate a single job from them.
My best hope was to give them all of the things that they did not
previously have. If it worked out, they
might call again. And very slowly, they started
to do just that. We began to grow. We actually began to acquire new
customers.
Changing
habits is very uncomfortable. It doesn’t
matter if the habit is bad, unhealthy, or results in constant aggravation. What is important is that a change is really
tough to make. Sometimes, the best sales
technique is to just be good at what you do.
Maybe a new customer will see the difference in service and start the
road to changing habits.
Today, I’m
going to go practice my routine of keeping my horses company for a bit, just to
let them know that I am still around. It
makes me comfortable. Apparently it
makes them comfortable too.