I arrived into Newark Airport from Tel Aviv at 4:45am ET, having been awake for 30 hours straight. U.S. Customs was rather empty so early in the morning. I approached the agent, handed him my passport, and waited for the inevitable inquisition:

“Were you in Israel for business or pleasure?” Never has the question struck me so hard as when arriving home from Israel, each of the three times I’ve been so blessed to travel there.

It is asked as an “or,” as though business and pleasure are mutually exclusive. It’s an outdated and unfitting question especially in the United States where national ethos dictates that we be fulfilled by our careers, follow our dreams, and strive for personal achievement in all that we do.

Being self-employed, this is particularly true. I have complete freedom over the course of my career, with money, skills and time being my only limitations. When business and pleasure are two distinct entities for an independent, you’re doing it wrong. I’ve fallen into this trap time and time again.

Despite the promise that our expansive country offers to immigrants from across the globe, there remains an undercurrent of professional dissatisfaction among many Americans. Work is associated with dread, business with selfishness and exploitation and dehumanization of even its most talented employees. We have constructed a society (or have allowed it to deconstruct as the case may be) in which it has become increasingly difficult to break out of this mold, where “work-life balance” is a business initiative designed to further inculcate the 150-year-old industrial construct of work-leisure dichotomy while pretending to make us feel good. The ideals of few have become the handcuffs of many.

I am determined to make business my pleasure and pleasure my business. For the last three years I have been consumed with achieving success, status and financial gain, foolishly equating ambition with breadth of achievement rather than depth of happiness. In the last couple months, all of that has changed. I’m no longer trying to climb the ladder that persisted in my mind even after leaving the corporate world. Instead I’m taking on a much more challenging pursuit of pleasure infused in all that I do.

Pleasure in business doesn’t require the same amount of activity as success in business does. This can be daunting at first; we’ve been trained to believe that momentum and velocity are signs of progress. But there’s progress in rest, too. In deep contemplation and 360-degree delight. It often means doing less, more slowly, for a longer period of time. It takes dedication and concentration and resilience, similar qualities of character applied in whole new ways. I’m enjoying the process of learning how to be still and still be me. After all, it’s the journey, not the destination, right? The only path in life I feel compelled to follow is one of wholeness, goodness and peace.

• Where is Whitney in 2011?
• Leaving for Israel
• Maimonides’ Eight Levels of Charity Applied to Building Your Personal Brand
• May you be inscribed in the book of life
• Help me celebrate my 1st year of self-employment

You might have realized I haven’t been here in a while. That’s because I’ve been everywhere else.

I spent my summer doing deeply meaningful client projects and traveling the world sharing my passion for making people’s lives better. I met a ton of interesting new people along the way — people who inspired me to keep going, to consider new perspectives, and to enjoy the best that life has to offer.

Despite it being the densest period of travel, speaking engagements, and deadlines I’ve ever had, it was also one of the most relaxing. How can that be possible? Because I eliminated a lot of the miscellaneous obligations that had been dragging me down for a long time. I’m more focused than I’ve ever been. I’m doing only what’s important to me personally and to my business, and nothing superfluous. I’m enjoying my weekends, spending more time with friends, taking time to smell the proverbial roses, and taking much better care of myself.

I had a string of recurring sinus infections in the spring that seemed incurable, and I knew I needed to give myself a break. I was on the brink of burning out. While I didn’t reduce my travel or my workload, I gave myself the permission to ignore everything else: emails, meeting requests, writing gigs, volunteering, and most of all, this blog.

Not writing for the last three months has been incredibly difficult. Writing is how I express myself best and has been such a powerful tool of growth over the course of my life. But it also takes a lot out of me, mentally and emotionally. “If you love something, let it go.” That became my mantra this summer, and I’m happy to say with absolute confidence that I am now back and better than ever.

This summer brought several important milestones: the 6th anniversary of my LLC (August 3), the 3rd anniversary of my self-employement (August 22), and the last year of my 20s (July 11).

I spent my birthday in Nova Scotia and Prince Edward Island on a solo weeklong tech-free vacation that I had been dreaming about for years. I ate the most delicious mussels, oysters, lobster and scallops I’d ever eaten, three meals a day for seven days and I still wanted more. I walked around the Fortress of Louisbourg where the French tried (unsuccessfully) to fight off the British. I rode the muddy waters of the world’s largest tidal bore in a three-propeller raft along the Shubenacadie River with six strangers (four were there for a bachelor party adventure). I celebrated the end of lobster season at the annual Pictou Lobster Carnival (population 2000, one of whom told me that this is the *only* thing that happens in the town all year). I saw the area that inspired Anne of Green Gables (a series I’ve never actually read) whose rolling hills really are remarkably green enough to be named after. I learned how whiskey is made (and drank some!) at Nova Scotia’s only single malt distillery, designed to the exact specifications of namesake Scotland. I spent an hour watching local kids jump off a bridge into the inlet below, then swim up to the rocks, climb back up to the bridge, and do it all over again (I wanted to join them, but couldn’t work up the courage). I swayed to the Preservation Hall Jazz Band who came all the way from New Orleans to play at the Halifax Jazz Festival under a large tent on the waterfront. I went to a tweetup with the web designers of Halifax who explained Nova Scotian customs and insisted I eat a donair (I did). I spent my birthday morning on the boulders of Peggy’s Cove (red lighthouse behind me, Atlantic waves crashing in front of me, hopping from rock to rock in my flip flops, trying not to fall), my birthday afternoon walking through the storybook town of Lunenberg (a UNESCO World Heritage site preserved from the late 1700s), and my birthday evening eating an unforgettable farm-to-table five-course meal in an old converted home owned by a local couple. When it was all said and done, I had driven more than 2500 kilometers (1500 miles), exceeded all my expectations, and didn’t miss my laptop, my iPad or even my phone one eensy teensy bit.

I had a few very important revelations while I was on vacation and I’m in the process of making the necessary changes to my life in order to be closer to the person I want to be. Among them is taking much better care of my health (I always thought I had been, but I was ignoring one major part). If you follow me on Twitter, you’ve probably noticed by now that I’ve been tweeting what I eat along with the #4HB hashtag (which stands for 4 Hour Body, a book by Tim Ferriss). Call it a diet, call it an eating plan, whatever you want to call it, I’m in control of my body for the first time in my life and I feel amazing. I’ll go into all that in another post soon.

As for where I’ve been and what I’ve been doing, here’s the full itinerary starting June 1:

Vancouver, Canada

Interlink Conference
Design Principles: The Philosophy of UX

Sebastopol, CA

Foo Camp

Florence, Italy

Frontiers of Interaction ’11
When I Speak My Mind

Atlanta, GA

UPA International
Design Principles: The Philosophy of UX
Evangelizing Yourself

Atlanta Web Design Group
Design Principles: The Philosophy of UX

Nova Scotia, Canada

Vacation!

Philadelphia, PA

Wharton Web Conference
Design Principles: The Philosophy of UX

Miami, FL

Client work

Atlanta, GA

Client work

Burlington, VT

Client work

Tel Aviv, Israel

UX Israel Live 2011
Design Principles: The Philosophy of UX
Creating a Culture of UX

(Of course this doesn’t count 2011 prior to June when I was in Boulder, San Francisco, Austin, LA, San Diego, Denver, Portland, Boston, and Burlington)

I feel so blessed to be invited to speak around the world — it really blows my mind — and to have such wonderful and widespread clients. It’s an honor and a privilege. I’ll go into more detail on each of these in subsequent posts. I AM BACK! And I’m so happy to be here. I can’t wait to share more about what I’ve been doing and what big changes are just around the bend.

Won’t you come along with me?

• A Brief Recap on Year 4
• Design Principles: The Philosophy of UX
• From the Archive: Interview with The Baltimore Sun
• Where is Whitney in 2011?
• Awesome Email of the Day: Evangelizing Myself

Around this time three years ago, I started considering the possibilities of being independently-employed for the first time. Quite honestly it had never even really occurred to me before I met people who were doing it — and were happy, successful and encouraging. It wasn’t until August of that year that I actually took the plunge.

Being independent has always been something I’ve prided myself on, as an adjective. But the last three years living it, as a noun, has completely reshaped my identity.

I’m proud to release to the public a scrapbook I’ve been keeping of articles, facts, tips, guidance, did-you-knows, personal stories and general inspiration about going independent, staying independent, and growing independently — as a way to live, not just to work.

I call it Lifework because anyone who’s out on their own knows it’s about putting life first. It’s about finding your life’s work and following the numerous paths that are laid out before you. It’s not just a job and it’s more than a career.

Self-employment is of the self; it requires a tremendous amount of self-discipline, self-reflection, self-control, self-confidence, self-doubt, self-determination, self-sacrificing, and often, if we’re being honest here, self-indulgence.

These are topics I want to explore more fully and intend to dedicate a major part of my life to better understanding and sharing what I find with others. I hope you join me.

[Lifework -- The other way around]

• Whit Hour – Week 12
• Being a consultant is like being an actor
• Pleasure and Pain turns 2
• Independently employed? What’s your retirement plan?
• What are you worth?

Last week, Caterina Fake wrote about the a social observation she made at SXSW which she called FOMO — Fear Of Missing Out: people checking their Twitter and Foursquare feeds to see who was where, doing what, to make sure that they were in the right place at the right time with the right people. And if they weren’t, quickly switching locations.

I’ve never been much of a joiner, so I’ve rarely suffered from this condition. I’m usually not wherever is trending — a disdain for long lines, overcrowded rooms, and inaudible conversation attempts. Just being somewhere, standing there in the place I’m “supposed” to be, to see and be seen, has never been my bag. That’s because I suffer from something far worse:

FONC — Fear Of Not Contributing

I’m a giver, not a taker. My whole life it’s been difficult for me to accept the offerings of others and feel self-worth from what I have and who I’m surrounded by. The only way I feel whole is when I’m contributing to the universe in some way — building something, helping someone, improving somewhere. I think in a lot of ways I became a consultant because I didn’t feel I was contributing enough at a full-time job. I wanted to contribute more and I was being held back. I was told outright that I was overshadowing the contributions of my teammates.

My need to contribute is a compulsion. Every day that I don’t create something is a day I feel I’m worth less. String together a few days of feeling worth less and eventually you’ll feel worthless. Of course by “you” I really mean “I.”

I burn out after working myself to the bone, and then give myself the day off to relax. But while I enjoy the respite, by nightfall I’m in a panic that the Earth has continued spinning and I didn’t actually have to do anything to help it.

It’s here that my Impostor Syndrome rears its ugly head. If the Earth keeps spinning without me, if companies keep making money and employees keep getting paid, and customers keep buying things they don’t need and figuring out what they do, and people keep learning and getting inspired by the work of others, and User Experience keeps making the rounds in conversations over lunch tables and boardroom tables, well then what the heck am I here for?

Despite external evidence of their competence, those with the syndrome remain convinced that they are frauds and do not deserve the success they have achieved. Proof of success is dismissed as luck, timing, or as a result of deceiving others into thinking they are more intelligent and competent than they believe themselves to be.

My FONC, aptly named, puts me in a funk on a regular basis. It comes and goes, but it mostly creeps up when I’m alone, at home, choosing to sleep or read or watch TV instead of crossing off something on my to-do list. My to-do list symbolizes the areas in which I believe I can contribute. Whether it’s crafting a proposal for a prospective client, producing for an existing client, drafting a blog post, or answering emails, when information and insight flows out of me, I can prove that I belong.

Just knowing where to be and being there, the goal of someone inflicted with FOMO, isn’t nearly enough to sustain me. I need the constant feedback and praise and criticism of a soul who knows she doesn’t belong at all. Because in those brief moments, I know my voice is heard. I know I’m noticed and I matter. And I know I’m there, wherever I am, for you.

• Darlin’ Do Not Fear
• What are you worth?
• A Brief Recap on Year 4
• To gather together
• Who is Gabby Hon’s hero?

Money is a topic that most people dance around because they don’t want to be rude, or tacky, or misunderstood. But if we avoid talking about it, we avoid learning a very essential part of our business and our industry. In order to thrive as a professional community, we need to have a strong handle on our financials, and a comfort discussing them openly with clients and colleagues alike.

I’ve advocated this for years, and tend to be the person my friends come to when they want straight talk about money. So imagine my excitement when Marc Hemeon asked me to join him at this year’s SXSW Interactive to help facilitate a Core Conversation that he called “Breaking Taboos: Pros Get Real About Money Matters.” I didn’t even have to think twice before I said Yes.

Our goal is to get people talking about money, and Marc and I are the people to do it. I’m coming at it from the independent consulting angle, regularly needing to speak frankly with prospective clients about budgets and with existing clients about getting paid. Meanwhile, Marc is at a major milestone in his career and will be talking about money from the perspective of a startup founder. Formerly the Design and UX Lead at Digg, Marc was until recently the Director of UX at Oakley while on the side he co-founded fflick, the Twitter-based movie review site. In January, he and his co-founders sold fflick to Google, and now he’s a designer at YouTube as part of the acquisition deal.

Some of the questions we hope to discuss are:

For Indies

• How do I know how much to charge?
• When do I ask to get paid?
• Do I need a contract?
• What should I do if I don’t get paid?
• Do I need to incorporate?
• Do I need an accountant?
• Do I need to separate my business and personal finances?
• How do I pay myself?
• What are the tax deductions I should know about?
• How should I be keeping track of my expenses?

For Founders

• How do I share ownership with co-founders?
• How do I decide how much equity I deserve?
• How do we determine how much we should get paid?
• How do we determine how much money we need to raise?
• What form of company should we incorporate as?
• What should we be willing to spend money on and what shouldn’t we?
• How do we pay personal and business taxes?
• How should we determine what our company is worth?
• How do we know when it’s time to sell?
• How can we negotiate for the best sale price and conditions?

The description, time and location details are below. I really hope to see many of you there — and please don’t sit quietly. The more people who participate, the more we’ll all learn from each other.

Breaking Taboos: Pros Get Real About Money Matters

Industry All-Stars tackle the subject that we’re all most curious about but causes us the most discomfort: what, when, and how to charge for our work. Learn their inside tips on how to charge your clients, when trading work for equity makes sense, and how to avoid common client pitfalls. Stop cheating yourself and learn that you deserve to be paid in full for doing work you’re passionate about. Our work has the power to make enormous amounts of money for our clients. Let’s take a good hard look at the value we provide and how to ask for and receive value in return.

Negotiating your rate for a project is the difference between being a starving artist or successful freelancer or studio. Creatives fall prey to lowball offers, promises of future work, and other forms of wage penalties in fear of losing a potential client. Learn how the pros have created successful freelance businesses and startups by not compromising their rates and standards. Understand how they attract the big name clients and avoid the bad clients. We’ll also explore potential benefits and risks of working for stock.

Lawyers, doctors, accountants and other professionals typically don’t experience angst, guilt, or wishy-washy boundaries when stating their rates and neither should we. We see standard billing rates across many industries. We’ll take a look at the role a standard billing rate would have in the creative services industry and how such a standard would be upheld and implemented.

Breaking Taboos: Pros Get Real About Money Matters
Friday, March 11, 2011
5-6pm
Marriott Courtyard Austin Downtown/Convention Center
Rio Grande A

• Where is Whitney in 2011?
• Client Matters: Needs + Resources + Location + Schedule + Budget = Scope
• I Popped My Cherry at BarCamp Philly
• What are you worth?
• Who is Gradon Tripp’s mentor?

I’ve been independent since August 2008, and prior to that I had been contributing to my company-sponsored 401(k) since college (at each of my three previous full-time jobs).

When I went solo, I was given the option to keep my money in my last company’s 401(k) plan indefinitely — but obviously without their matching contributions. I did that for two years, and am kind of ashamed to admit that while I’ve been building my own business, I stopped contributing to my retirement. I was afraid to put money somewhere I couldn’t touch it.

A few months ago, I got to a point financially where I felt I could start saving for retirement again, and emotionally I knew it was time. I’m only 28, and I’ll probably never retire, but it would be foolish to think that at 60+ years old that I’ll have the same revenue-generation ability that I do now. I won’t.

I moved my old 401(k) into a Rollover IRA at TD Ameritrade. They have great customer service, and a branch not too far from where I live. I watch Suze Orman every Saturday night on CNBC (or the next morning when I’m nursing my hangover), and she’s always raving about Roth IRAs, so I decided to check them out.

After a bit of investigation, I realized that a Roth IRA wasn’t going to work for me due to salary and contribution limitations. I felt stuck.

I tweeted about looking for a financial advisor, and I’m quite lucky that Ben Shapiro a.k.a. @bennytheshap made an intro to his amazing mother-in-law, Debra A. Webber of Evanston Advisors. Deb gave me an hour-long consultation, free of charge, and in that short time completely changed my financial future.

Deb opened my eyes to a lot, but one of the most revelatory things she told me about is called a Simplified Employee Pension Individual Retirement Account, or SEP-IRA (pronounced Sep-I-R-A) for short. A SEP-IRA is a retirement plan for business owners and their employees, and it’s a dream come true.

Now look, I consider myself a pretty well-informed person and I yet had NEVER heard of this before. In 2.5 years of self-employment, my high-priced accountant had never once brought it up. I’d never seen it on an episode of the Suze Orman Show or read about it in any Dave Ramsey book. That’s why I feel responsible to tell all you indies about it today.

The benefits of a SEP-IRA:

• Contributions are tax-deductible — meaning they’ll lower your taxable income in the current year
• The annual contribution limit is the lesser of 25% of your income, or $49,000 — MUCH higher than the $5,000 limit of a traditional IRA or Roth IRA
• Funds can be invested the same way as any other IRA
• Contributions and earnings can be rolled over tax-free to other IRAs and retirement plans
• It has no associated fees if you don’t have any employees, and minimal fees if you do

Of course it’s not exactly that simple. A few crucial details:

• The annual contribution limit of 25% is constrained to the first $245,000 of income
• Your contribution to a SEP-IRA is tax deductible, and will therefore reduce your contribution limit by whatever you contribute
• The calculation of the actual contribution limit for a self-employed contributor is based on net profit minus one-half self-employment tax minus the contribution for him or herself

Read more about a SEP-IRA on the IRS website and at Investopedia.
Note: Make sure you talk to an accountant or tax planner to understand the full implications of the contribution.

You’ve got until your tax filing date (April 15 for most of us) to open an account and make your contribution for 2010. But seeing as there’s 16 days left in the year, start 2011 off right and take care of it now. It’s been a tremendous weight off my shoulders, and I’d love for you to feel the same.

• Happy New Year to You
• Pleasure and Pain turns 2
• Lifework — A philosophy, a lifestyle, a revolution
• Help me celebrate my 1st year of self-employment
• Wondering? Ask me on Formspring!

Thank you to Mr. Dan Kramarsky who in the eighth grade suggested that I elect to take the Computer Science class in ninth grade.

Thank you to Mr. Charles Rice who let me take his one Computer Science class for all four years of high school, and encouraged me to consider applying to Carnegie Mellon University.

Thank you to Assistant Dean Mark Stehlik who, when I told him I wanted to leave CMU’s School of Computer Science, nodded in understanding, and told me that the door would remain open to me if I ever changed my mind.

Thank you to Susan Swan, a PhD student and my freshman year English teacher, who awarded me a Kermit the Frog stuffed animal for having written the best paper in the class, and ignited my passion for writing.

Thank you to Jim Davidson, my journalism professor, who believed I had what it takes, who taught me how to conduct an interview, how to structure a story, how to develop my own personal style, how to do away with all the rules, but always make sure to spell the source’s name correctly.

Thank you to Scott Kaufman who thought to tell me about his double-major in Human-Computer Interaction, twice until I understood it, and shared the magic of the “field studies” he had been assigned to do.

Thank you to Professor Richard Scheines who took me under his wing, accepted me into the HCI program, gave me job designing educational software at an hourly rate I probably didn’t deserve, and let me linger in his office longer than I needed to, because I needed to.

Thank you to Professor Bonnie John who drilled into me the mantra, “The user is not like me,” which I continue to carry with me like a torch, a guiding light, to remind me who I am, why I’m here, and what I’m destined to do.

Thank you to Professor Randy Pausch who changed the way I see the world, who taught me how to prototype and iterate on my really bad ideas, who regularly took me to task in a lecture hall of 150 students, who let me argue back, and who I now realize was always right.

Thank you to Dave Camillus, my senior year roommate, who thought to forward me a job post for an interaction designer position back in NYC, when I had no idea what an interaction designer even was.

Thank you to Tom Blum, Stew Katz and Consuelo Ruybal, three VP creative directors who interviewed me at Digitas while I had a fever of 102, and opted to give me a position above entry level for reasons I still don’t understand.

Thank you to Oonie Chase, yet another VP creative director at Digitas, who gave me the freedom to explore my ideas, got huffy when I wouldn’t push the boundaries far enough, and supported me in bringing user research and testing practices into what was a very creative-driven organization.

Thank you to Brendan Gallagher who locked himself in a room with me for six weeks while we took an idea from nothing to something never seen before, and for showing me the align button in Visio (which saved me quite a bit of time).

Thank you to Judy Laughren, the SVP of account management, who trusted me to present our card finder prototype to the CEO of American Express, on the couch in his executive office, when I was 23 years old.

Thank you to Ken Chenault who cared about what he saw, and recognized how it improved people’s lives, and initiated a patent filing on which I am named as a co-inventor.

Thank you to Brian Ragan, my next boss, who protected me from an unstable leadership, gave me free reign to run my own projects, and didn’t hold it against me when I abandoned ship after only 6 months.

Thank you to Josh Seiden, my user experience manager at Liquidnet, who opened my mind to rigorous process, helped me to focus on enhancing my strengths instead of eliminating my weaknesses, and became the catalyst for me following my true path.

Thank you to Sarah Rice and Kaleem Khan, two independent consultants who showed me the way forward through the fog of uncertainty and unknown.

Thank you to David Armano, a former co-worker who was the first person I followed on Twitter, who sent this tweet and started it all.

Thank you to Jared Spool who (by being the second person to follow me on Twitter) is the reason I started this blog, who enlightened me when I read his essays in college and continues to enlighten me every day, who I am honored to call my mentor and friend.

Thank you to Christian Crumlish and Chris Baum who, on a walk around Savannah, helped me bridge the gap between old guard and new guard, and who insisted that I overcome my nerves to share my voice.

Thank you to Liz Danzico who has been my role model, my inspiration, and my connection to an incredible community of the most talented practitioners I’ve ever known.

Thank you to Jeffrey Zeldman who gave me a gig at Happy Cog when he hardly knew me (with a referral from Liz), who asked me to speak at An Event Apart having never seen me present (other than to our clients), and who has astounded me with his generosity time and time again.

Thank you to Tony Bacigalupo who gave me a home away from home, a place to work where work is love, a community of brilliant and motivated people who enable me to be more brilliant and motivated, and friendship that I never imagined was possible, that I was at first too afraid to try.

Thank you to Charlie O’Donnell who introduced me to Fred Wilson who introduced me to Avner Ronen, founder and CEO of Boxee, who sparked my passion for startups and gave me the opportunity to collaborate with one of the best teams in the industry on one of the most beloved products.

Thank you to Lis Hubert, Ray DeLaPena, and Donna Lichaw who asked me to join them in forming UX Shop Talk (which quickly became UX Therapy), who every week have the courage to share themselves with the rest of us, who encourage me to bitch about whatever is on my mind, and who are always there to remind me how fortunate I really am, to have them, and to have this life.

Thank you to Jennifer Bohmbach and Livia Labate who took a big risk when they invited me to give the closing plenary at IA Summit 2010, despite several people’s protests that I was too young, too inexperienced, and too insignificant to be worth listening to.

Thank you to Kevin Hoffman and Brett Harned who guided me through the most difficult and rewarding project of my career, three emotional months of user research for the US Holocaust Memorial Museum, who taught me grace and humor in the most challenging moments.

Thank you to Tom Daly, Mike Perry, Tricia Comstock, Sandra Lloyd, and Van Shea Sedita who helped me swing the pendulum far in the other direction during a summer of fun with House Party.

Thank you to Ana Hevesi, Jason Kende, Ben Fisher, Jonathan Wegener, Michael Tseng, and Theo Skye who give me Sundays to look forward to, who force me to lighten up, and who each and every day remind me what independence truly means.

Thank you to Campbell McKellar who sat down on the couch next to me at New Work City and changed the course of my life with just one conversation, and who together with Anna Thomas, Cody Robbins, and our entire Loosecubes team are helping me to realize new dreams and old.

Thank you to Aaron Schildkrout and Brian Schechter who see me.

Thank you to Sasha Rudenstine, Michael Shulman and Sharin Apostolou who allow me to be (often) out of sight but never out of mind.

Thank you to my parents, my friends, my colleagues, my readers, the reasons I get up in the morning and who flood my head when I go to sleep at night, whose love and goodness and charity are boundless, who sometimes drive me crazy but always get me a drink, who have the highest expectations for me and appreciate when I fuck up and let them see it, who make me feel like I’m nothing next to them but I’m everything to them, and who I’m eternally grateful to walk beside on this extraordinary, unexplainable journey.

A million thanks. Thanks is never enough.

• From the Archive: Changing Majors
• The outpouring of love for Randy Pausch
• My high school computer science homework
• I Am Not A Woman Blogger
• Fulfilling My Dreams, and Saying No Along the Way

In August 2005, I formed an LLC and started doing freelance work on the side of my full-time job.

In August 2008, I quit my full-time job to pursue independent consulting and self-employment.

In November 2008, I became one of the first members of New Work City and started growing my career through the coworking community.

As of October 2010, I have a new milestone to add to the list. I’ve been alluding to it on Twitter and bursting at the seams waiting to officially announce it here. Now is the time.

Two weeks ago, I joined Loosecubes as Product Experience Lead.

Loosecubes is a New York-based startup that matches independent professionals with companies that have extra office space. We are expanding our mission to be a community for the self-employed, and I am tasked with leading the product strategy shift and site relaunch. It couldn’t be more obvious that this is a perfect fit.

To answer your first question: No, I am not giving up self-employment. I am still 100% independent and will remain so. Being a consultant is a major part of my identity, and having the freedom to work with a variety of companies, however I wish, is extremely important to me. Despite my W9, I am a fully integrated member of the Loosecubes team, as “real” as every other member of the team (who are mostly all consultants as well). We are building a new kind of company.

Loosecubes was founded by Campbell McKellar, a fellow member of New Work City and first-time Internet entrepreneur. Previously she helped build hotels in TriBeCa, worked in the real estate division of Goldman Sachs, and co-founded a non-profit that supports non-profits. She also has a bachelor’s from Princeton and an MBA from Stanford. Yeah, wow.

Campbell and I have known each other since the beginning of the year when she joined NWC, but we never spoke more than a passing kiss on the cheek. We were both always busy. But an amazing thing happened on the last Tuesday in September: I was sitting on the couch during an epic email catch-up session at NY Nightowls, and Campbell sat down next to me, super stressed and needing to vent. She was nine months into developing her product, had hundreds of feature ideas, and wasn’t sure how to move forward. I asked if she knew what User Experience was; she said she knows that’s what I do, but not much more than that. So I stopped my email spree to show her some of my deliverables.

The idea that I might one day work with her never crossed my mind. I swear. I just thought that learning about some UX techniques might help give her focus. Midway through my spiel, she pulled out her iPhone and said, “Mind if I take notes?” Six documents and 30 minutes later, she asked if I’d be willing to chat with her team. In the spirit of sharing, the ethos of coworking, I said of course. In two years at New Work City, I had done this dozens of times before. We set up a meeting for two days later.

Thursday rolled around and I was rushing between meetings. I had no more than an hour to spare. Campbell had gathered her interim CTO Cody Robbins, community manager Anna Thomas, and designer Jesse James Arnold. As far as I can remember, all I did was walk them through a pretty standard UX process: user interviews > personas > scenarios > feature prioritization > sitemap > wireframes. I thought it could help to provide some structure for moving forward.

That night I had a glowing email from Campbell saying that I had re-energized the team, and she had been compelled to pause all development on the website until a product strategy had been created. Would I do it?

I wanted to, but it was going to be tough; I just so happened to have the following week, and only one week, available due to a rare and unexpected opening between client projects. I decided to try an experiment: research and strategy in just five days. I was clear that this was a process that I normally conduct over 2-3 months, but if she was willing to improvise, I was willing to give it a try. So we did.

In two years and two months of independent consulting, I had never before: a) worked on-site with a client for more than one day; b) worked on a single client project for five days in a row; c) worked at New Work City for five days in a row. And despite catching the cold that was going around on Day 2, it was the most fun I’ve ever had doing client work — and I’ve had a lot of fun doing client work.

This felt different. Calling Loosecubes a “client” just felt wrong.

At the end of each day, after 10+ hours in a small, stuffy room together, we went home to write each other love notes about how much fun we were having. I was sad to see the week end. Friday night we all went out for beers with a few NWC peeps. Yes, we wanted to spend more time together. Saturday night I invited Campbell to join me for the Food & Wine Festival’s grand dessert tasting. We laughed the night away with chocolate and wine, and as we stumbled out hours later to catch cabs home, she stopped me on the street and admitted that she wanted me to be a permanent part of Loosecubes. And I admitted that I wanted it, too. It was like falling in love.

The whole following week, I was walking around in a daze. I asked my closest friends, friends with startups, if they’ve ever felt high all of the time. “You’ve caught the bug,” they all said. They were right.

So here we are, a few weeks later and we’re full steam ahead. I’m building a design team and helping to recruit the best developers to work with Cody. We developed a product roadmap and I’ve built out a schedule to get it all done. I have a contract with Loosecubes through launch in mid-Q1 2011. Having an identity as an independent poses some constraints, and a short-term arrangement is what I’m most comfortable with — even though I know deep down that Loosecubes is now partially mine and I’m in it for the long haul.

This isn’t just about helping to build a company or having the latitude to build a product from the ground up. It’s the concept of a sandbox for the self-employed. I don’t just want to create it, I want to use it. In the last 2+ years, I’ve dedicated my time to helping others go indie, stay indie, and grow indie — a role I never expected to have but that has been sort of thrust upon me given my visibility in the community, and I’ve welcomed it with open arms because of what I believe it means for the future of this country, for the world. Helping people take control of their professional destiny, blurring the line between professional and personal. Removing the roadblocks that are in people’s way: fear, insecurity, and lack of direction. Encouraging people to embrace the overwhelming freedom, and define their own version of success and fulfillment. That’s what I’ve come to realize is how I want to define mine.

The vision of revolutionizing the modern day workforce (in a way I personally experience), the indescribable team I’m surrounded by, the opportunity I’ve been given to finally bring together my disparate skills and interests — it’s simply a dream. Am I scared? Hell yes. I want this to succeed more than anything else I’ve ever put my mind to; I’m completely consumed by it. But it’s the journey that will change me forever, not the destination. I can’t predict what it will be. But I have high hopes, and all the signs seem to be pointing the way.

I look forward to taking you along with me.

Please share your ideas, questions, concerns, visions, oppositions, and deepest darkest secrets in the comments. I can’t wait to hear what you have say!

• The plain numbers about women in tech – The Startups
• Seeking All Independent User Experience Professionals in NYC
• Week 1 of independence
• Whit Hour – Week 12
• Whit Hour – Week 21

I’m incredibly fortunate to be in a position to chat with prospective clients pretty frequently. But to be perfectly honest, if I’ve only had one 30-minute conversation with someone, I tend not to remember the details months later.

Last April I was introduced to Erin Newkirk, CEO and co-founder of RedStamp, a company putting style and etiquette back into personal correspondence. Along with CTO Dan Wick, we had a great first conversation — but unfortunately our schedules didn’t match up, and we parted ways. Pretty typical situation for me.

Only this time I couldn’t get them out of my head.

A few months passed, and I was still thinking about RedStamp, kicking myself for not getting involved in some way. As luck would have it, I was traveling to Minneapolis (where they’re based) to speak at An Event Apart, and decided to shoot them an email just to say hi and see if they were interested in meeting in person. They were, and we ended up having a great lunch meeting over delicious sandwiches. We clicked immediately.

Based on where they are right now in their site redesign (pretty far along), we knew that a traditional UX consulting project wouldn’t really make sense. But given how well we got along and how much we both wanted to work with the other, we decided to go a different route.

On Friday, Erin announced that I have joined the RedStamp team as an advisor. This will allow us to have an ongoing, long-term relationship, in which I can help shape the company from a UX process perspective, react to the designs they produce, share insights that I come across in my daily work and life, and connect them with the appropriate resources as the redesign progresses — and long afterwards as well.

RedStamp is much more than they appear to be at first glance: a stationery company. They want to change the way people correspond. They want to bring etiquette and style into digital communications, and create a fluidity between online and offline correspondence that does not yet exist in today’s world. I’m incredibly excited that I will be able to play a small role in helping make that happen.

It’s an honor to join Joanne Wilson, another RedStamp advisor and the one responsible for putting all of this into motion. You can’t always predict how things are going to work out, but if you believe in something strongly enough, show your passion and follow through, amazing things are bound to happen.

If you have any insights on modern etiquette or the importance of style in online and offline communications, I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments or via email. Thanks so much!

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• The Work I Love

On the afternoon of Friday, August 22, 2008, I “left work” for the last time.

It was my last day at my full-time job and I was officially self-employed.

The last two years have been a whirlwind, and the benefits and repercussions of that single action have been far more significant than I ever could have predicted. As I’ve said 100 times — and will probably be repeating til the end of my days — that was the best decision I’ve ever made.

I had a great job at a great company and I loved my work, but I wasn’t satisfied with my career or my life. So I forwent the cushy routine and instead chose the unstable, insecure, unknown, unpredictable path. As a result, I have created a life for myself that is better than I ever dared to dream.

Independence is a word that holds a lot of weight with me. Freedom, autonomy, self-reliance, self-expression. And anxiety, discord, isolation, vulnerability.

I am completely alone in this. It’s the best possible best and the worst possible worst all wrapped up into one.

And yet somehow, someway, it fits me like a glove.

Last year I was feeling a huge mix of emotions as my first year of full-time independent consulting came to a close. Quite frankly I was a chicken with my head cut off, and I was feeling it at hard. I knew I needed to make a change. So I created a strategic plan for how I wanted to move my business forward and how I wanted to better live my life — and now, looking back at Year 2, I’m happy to say that I stuck to it.

From August 2008 to August 2009 (Year 1), I had contracts with 17 clients. I was juggling far too much work with an unsustainable schedule of meetings from 9am-6pm, a four-hour break for events and social life, and production work from 10pm-4am. I was a friggin’ zombie, double-booking, pushing deadlines, eating crap, losing touch with friends, and desperately searching for air.

I was told by a close friend and mentor to raise my rates, so I did, and continue to. As a result, from August 2009 to now (Year 2), I had contracts with only 8 clients, and I earned 30% more year-over-year. After crunching the numbers, I discovered that I made 270% more money per project in year two, meaning that on average my project rates were almost 3x the size year-over-year. That’s pretty damn cool.

There’s another stat that I’m particularly proud of: In Year 1, 7.3% of my invoices were unpaid; in Year 2, a staggering 0% unpaid. This feat doesn’t just tell me that I got better at collecting money, but that I got better at choosing clients.

Best of all, I worked less. I stopped most (though not all) of my late-night shifts, and spent a lot more time speaking at conferences, writing, and reconnecting with my friends and myself.

Some events of Year 2 are immeasurable: I gave the closing keynote at the conference where I had given my very first presentation just one year earlier; I did research and strategy for the Holocaust Museum; after waiting more than 4 years, a U.S. patent with my name on it was finally granted; after completely bombing a presentation, I went back to the drawing board and turned it into a hit; I was published by A List Apart; I was approached by multiple publishers to write a book for them; I was invited to Foo Camp. I mean, come on! My mind has been blown over and over and over again. I can’t believe this is my life.

I’ve faced a lot of negativity as well, and I’ve discovered even deeper, truer friends because of it. It certainly hasn’t all been a cakewalk, and I expect that things will just get harder as the years go on. But I take solace in the fact that I’m learning that independence doesn’t have to mean loneliness. I have an incredible support network of friends, family and fans (though I prefer to think of them as friends I just haven’t met yet). I’m constantly inspired by the community of members at New Work City, who have lent me their strength and taught me the value of co-independence. I’ve learned a lot about who I am, and who I want to be. And I’m learning how to get myself there.

I serendipitously got a link from my friend Will Sansbury today that couldn’t be more apropos. It’s on the “Paradoxical Commandments of Leadership” by Kent Keith. His rules:

1. People are illogical, unreasonable, and self-centered. Love them anyway.

2. If you do good, people will accuse you of selfish ulterior motives. Do good anyway.

3. If you are successful, you win false friends and true enemies. Succeed anyway.

4. The good you do today will be forgotten tomorrow. Do good anyway.

5. Honesty and frankness make you vulnerable. Be honest and frank anyway.

6. The biggest men with the biggest ideas can be shot down by the smallest men with the smallest minds. Think big anyway.

7. People favor underdogs, but follow only top dogs. Fight for a few underdogs anyway.

8. What you spend years building may be destroyed overnight. Build anyway.

9. People really need help but may attack you if you do help them. Help people anyway.

10. Give the world the best you have and you’ll get kicked in the teeth. Give the world the best you have anyway.

Today as I start Year 3, I will be keeping these principles in mind, skipping down my path, enjoying all the good fortune and important lessons life has to offer me, and sharing it all with you along the way.

Thanks for traveling with me.

• New Year’s Resolutions for 2011
• Happy New Year to You
• Lifework — A philosophy, a lifestyle, a revolution
• Help me celebrate my 1st year of self-employment
• Today is my 1 year anniversary of going solo