I have had this theory, which is not earth-shattering, but it’s been buzzing around like an aimless fly looking for a lovely place to land. Today I found a great spot.

Maslow tells us that we’re needy. We require basic daily sustenance needs (food, sleep, sex, etc.) met first before we can move on to filling voids of friendship, self-worth and many other “non-survival” needs like my fav, creativity. If you review Maslow’s hierarchy, I’m guessing that I’m somewhere in between his “Esteem” and “Self-Actualization” buckets. Reinvention, here I come. Or, mid-life crisis? I really don’t care about the label, it’s the mindshift and behavior that is pulling me towards change.

So, here’s my theory . . . over the past few years I’ve become increasingly annoyed, discouraged and trapped. Everything in this modern world is so easily abundant that it has become painfully empty. If I want a steak dinner, I can have it brought to my house in about 20 minutes. If my favorite pair of shoes look a little worn, I can get another pair in under a day. If I don’t like my house, I can sell it in a few weeks. (Okay, I may not get top dollar but I can still unload it and move on whenever I want). There is very little in my life that is created by me from my own hands. I didn’t kill the cow (for the steak dinner or the shoes) and I didn’t build the house. Easy come, easier to go.

The abundance of just about everything seeming endless. Have you seen your options for gum lately? Who knew there were so many recipes for chewable spearmint. We no longer function in what I call “survival mode” because the fallout from the Industrial Revolution has handed us everything we could ever want on a platter. So, because we are not killing our own chickens and building our own outhouses, we need to replace this time with something. The main replacements are entertainment and buying stuff: stuff we don’t need, stuff we think we need and stuff we’re told we need. The problem with filling our time with things brought in from external creation is that someone else’s heart and soul has framed that creation. Our hierarchical needs of achievement (no matter how small) — respect, creativity, spontaneity, self-esteem and even morality — are being imported from mass produced promises of happiness. Very little originates from within. The result is that our higher levels are not being met and suddenly we’re wandering around aimlessly, like flies looking to land, confused about why we’re unhappy and unsatisfied.

Like I said, this theory is not earth shattering. I’m sure there are tons of philosophers beyond Maslow that have culled this out into a much more scientific and extensive way.

But today, a lot of what I felt was missing from my theory (however small of a theory it is) got a total shot in the ass. Today, I met Patricia Martin. Patricia Martin has been conducting research over the past few years about cultural shifts. She believes we are not just in a state of flux. We are renaissancing. Well, that’s my morphed term, but the basic core idea is that, just like da Vinci and Michelangelo, we are moving cultural needs to the top of the list. The old civilization, as we know it, is dying. In its place is a shift in relevance. We have been disconnecting from the things that make us feel relevant for so long that it is moving us towards an end. An end to complacency, an end to numbness, an end to static civilization as we know it. Patricia has seen that, when you are faced with an end (she actually uses death as a term) and impending trauma, your creativity is heightened. So, from the current state of disconnection comes the scrambling to become connected. In that effort, we create. Our focus shifts from “being” or just existing to creating with the ultimate goal of living in beauty, placing aestheticism as the highest value and gaining pleasure from all things that make us feel relevant.

Our Gen Yers are 80 million strong. Gen Xers (that’s me, at 37, right smack in the middle) are only 48 million and Baby Boomers are still kickin’ around at nearly 75 million. The younger set are driving this renaissance, there’s no doubt. They don’t want to work 9to5. They don’t want a daily grind. But, they do want to have a job that is meaningful and vital to society. They understand Maslov’s top tier hierarchical needs and are hell bent on meeting them and, not just for themselves, but for all of us.

If we are in a cultural renaissance, this affects everything we do in business and marketing. As Patricia argues, how do you market to groups that refuse to be bucketed into segments? One of my group88 members is a cardiac pediatrician who is starting an ecommerce website for physicians in private practice. I have a friend whose passion is racing cars but you’d never know of his talents in the kitchen. There are engineers who are fond of painting water colors. I’m a career gal who is learning to play the drums and last year made my own jam Amish-style. How the heck do you choose to market to these people who have disparate and varying interests? As a culture we are shifting from the goal of “having stuff” to “doing stuff.” Selling to doers is much harder than selling to hoarders.

Patricia has a few ideas on selling in a cultural renaissance but I have yet to read her book so I will refrain from espousing on more theory. One thing that did stick with me in her discussion today, however, is that we need to pay attention to the rebellion of consumers. Don’t label them or put them into buckets. Don’t create segments for them to hopefully fall into or attempt to categorize them in ways that you see fit. They will rebel, become annoyed, and your business will die.

But dying is not a bad thing. Because, as we now know from renaissancing, a little death is required for rebirth.

Sometimes I can be a real jerk. Here’s an example:

One night I was overdue on a writing project so I huddled up in my town’s library to crank it out. I was there from 9-8, taking only short runs to DD for some hash browns and coconut decaf with cream and sugar. Nearing the end of the night I was cranky and anxiously trying to get as far as I could in my project (which required reference books too big for me to smuggle out) before the library bitches kicked me to the curb. They’re all sweet and helpful during daylight but as soon as 7:50p hits, you better be making moves towards the door or they’ll make it for you.

So, while sitting at my table in an open part of the library, I received a call from my pal Jimmy. I can’t remember why he was calling but soon we were laughing about something and, while I was trying to keep my voice down (and I thought I was doing a pretty darn good job of it), I suddenly noticed the presence of some guy at a desk nearby working on the library computer. I tried to keep my voice down some more and then told Jim that I better split. Suddenly, the disgrunter couldn’t take it anymore. He whipped around and . . .

Fumer: “You need to take that outside. Right now!”
Me: “Hold on a bit Jimmy.” “Sir, I’m wrapping it up. Just give me a minute.”
His Furiousness: “No. You take it outside. NOW!” He starts to stand up and look around for help. From who, I don’t know.
Me: “Dude, chill it.” “Look Jimmy, I better split or this guy’s gonna blow something. See ya later.” “There, see? All done.”
Angryman turned in his chair, shaking his head, typing away.
Me: “Hey, could you keep it down please. You’re typing awfully loud.”
Mr. Feisty: Whipping around and glaring at me. “You know, your attitude is atrocious!”
Me (laughing): “Atrocious! That’s good! I like that.” I wasn’t lying. I thought it was a great response.

And from that point on the both of us made as much noise as possible: typing, coughing, dropping books, sighing. We threw in as much passive aggressive behavior in the last 20 minutes of library time as we could. When he left, he said, “Good luck with your project” in a half-angry, half-closure kind of way. I just replied a “thanks!” with all the cheeriness I could, as I picked up my phone, dialed my husband and walked away grinning as he huffed and puffed out the door. My only hope was that he didn’t have a dog at home who most surely received the fallout from this exchange. I doubted it though. He looked more like a cat person.

After that incident for the few times that I went to the library, I was always hoping I’d run into that guy. Now I’ve forgotten what he looks like but I always wanted just one more conversation with him. Not to apologize but to thank him. I’m not even sure what for. Aside from the fact that I have a great new phrase to throw around, I think it was just so liberating to not be nice. I’m not saying that I’m gonna be a jerk from now on but if an angst-ridden opportunity presents itself I don’t think I’ll be able help it. Because, at least it’s honest. If I was obliging and took my phone call outside or didn’t instigate him some more, it wouldn’t have been an honest reaction. Now some will argue that I should have been the grown up. That I should have been nice and accommodating. Probably. But, how often does someone tell you that your attitude is atrocious? That just doesn’t happen everyday. Well, at least not yet.