Last spring I attended a workshop in Boston offered by Hay House Publishing Company geared towards  folks in the community who want to promote their transformational work in the world. I wasn’t exactly certain what to expect nor was I particularly clear about what it was I was looking for, but a dear friend went to a previous offering and had nothing but rave reviews. And he is awesome.

One of the things author and life coach, Cheryl Richardson, presented was the necessity for contemporary  teachers to develop a personal “platform” that draws upon numerous social and technological avenues in order to effectively promote one’s core message. Core message, right? I negotiated mini panic attacks for the first 24 hours of the week-end as I grappled with the fear of truly spelling out to myself, let alone to others, what indeed was my message, my purpose, my passion.

“I want to change the world.” Well, easy enough, right? Who doesn’t want to change the world? I’d proudly sit with that clarity for about five minutes before the onslaught of “yeah, but’s” came pouring in and sent me reeling into confusion and self-doubt. “Who am I to say there is a problem with the world as it was created and exists?” “Who am I to suggest that I know what the world needs and that I have the ability to affect that change?”

“OK, I know! Relationships! I want to help folks enjoy more meaningful, transformational relationships!!!” Now what could be bad about that? I’ll be “the relationship guy!” I smiled silently from my chair as the workshop proceeded, content that I had already gained something useful and I had done it all by myself! Sure enough, an hour later a flood of scenes from previous relationships came crashing in, carrying the debris of mistakes, lessons and tragedies committed by yours truly in attempt after attempt to maintain “successful” romantic connections.

I felt like Charlie Brown trying to kick the elusive football. I’d charge the ball with gusto only to wind up flat on my back,  cartoon birdies circling overhead. How could I ever really know what I want to do or say with my talents if I can so easily find a hundred reasons why I have been so clueless about this or that, even a miserable failure at something I wish to teach others about.

“Who would want to hear about creating a healthy relationship from someone who has had unhealthy ones in his own past?”

I began to research platform development in the weeks and months following the workshop and found myself reading marketing books, opening numerous social networking accounts, watching Ted.com videos from speaker/teacher masters and creating a public presence. One of the themes that I found particularly striking across the board was the necessity of branding.

The notion that every public person needs to brand themselves as if they are a product to be sold in the marketplace was instantly jarring. Really? At first it was a bit funny to imagine myself as a tube of toothpaste or a new Smart Phone. “What makes me unique from other dental products or telecom mediums?” My toothpaste is all natural, smooth yet gritty, tasty and delicious but not too sweet?!? Not good enough! My toothpaste supports you by keeping a loving, compassionate breeze of sweet cleanliness on your breath all day! My cell phone not only makes calls and take photos of your life, it provides you with an alternative universe, a special community of like-minded people where you can feel at home and nurture your relationships!

No matter what product I could be “selling,” it is difficult to remove the essence of who I am and what I’m truly seeking to create in the world. I don’t want to sell anything, actually. I want to make changes in the world available for others to embrace. I can only share my opinions or beliefs about that change and then people can choose for themselves whether those ideas resonate or not. I do truly believe that healthy, nurturing relationships are the key to deep, lasting peace and self-love. I believe that with healthy relationships come healthy homes, cities and nations thus creating a healthy planet. Do I want to sell that to you? Not exactly.

My deep hope is that you will come to want it for yourself. There is a challenge within myself when it comes to trying to convince anyone of anything. I present ideas and possibilities and that is where I leave it. I know from decades of experience that I can not change another person but I can invite them to change. I don’t want to have to market myself in a way that makes change sexier or smarter, I want the reality of it to stand on its own. Then again, what if it doesn’t?

What if I sing from the mountain tops that projecting our needs onto others is the same as wanting to lock our friends and family in cages and invite visitors to come see what lovely relationships I have created? What if I dance a healthy relationship dance in my own life in the hope that those around me will see the beauty and benefit of nourishing their connections?

What if I do these things and nobody gets it? What if I sing my heart out and no one cares?

Back to branding. Can I make the message sexier without losing the authenticity of my beliefs and dreams? Can I assemble my words in a wittier way such that people think I must know what I’m talking about and then change? How is it possible to package myself and my message without attention to branding and marketing and not lose focus on the heart and soul of my personal journey?

I turn to the sun dried plum for wisdom.

What, you’ve not yet discovered this exotic fruit in your grocery store? The Angelino sun dried plum is naturally sun-dried, ready to use and will knock your socks off! It comes “fancy” sized, is approximately 2˝ in diameter with a deep violet color. California Angelino Plums have a tangy sweet flavor with spicy undertones and a chewy texture making them a good choice for snacking and as an ingredient for baking in breads, scones and bagels. Plums have a natural affinity to wines and dried plums are high in vitamin A, potassium and are an excellent source of fiber. They are even Kosher Certified.

What could be bad about such an exotic fruit? Nothing. Just explain it to the prune. They are calling it a “marketing make-over,” a “sea-change in the fruit world” and a “fruit of the past. ” The good old prune that my grandmother ( and yours ) used to chew on to keep things “right in the world” has been transformed into something exotic, fresh and fun. While it is still carries the amazing nutritional benefits of a good prune, the sun dried plum is about your transformation! What?

You didn’t like going to the store and buying prunes. It wasn’t sexy. Perhaps, it was embarrassing. You didn’t serve it at holidays or with mixed company. Your kids giggled at it in the cupboard so you stopped bringing it home. You changed. You wanted the benefits of the prune but you were no longer willing to tolerate the “bad wrap” associated with the prune. So, the powers that be made an adjustment for you as they have done with the Patagonian Toothfish, Sugar, and High Fructose Corn Syrup. They just want you to be comfortable. Corporations, governments and marketers can label things all sorts of ways to ensure that you feel at ease and that your numerous instinctual triggers don’t go off and compromise a sale, a change in your behavior.

Brother Shakespeare questioned whether a rose would smell as sweet by any other name? My message is the same, regardless of fancy platforms, marketing or savvy sales pitches. We can change the world, starting with our most basic relationships. Each day we have choices as to how we will be in the world; how we will interact with others. There is something so basic and true to this that no matter how I package it, the reality is always clear and present.

In the end, I guess I am really like the prune.

When I was a boy, my dad took me to one of his favorite childhood spots, Nathans Famous Hot Dog stand in Coney Island.

“What makes them famous, Dad?” I asked with the exacting simplicity and demanding tone of a five year old.

“Because everyone knows about them! And because they’re the best hot dogs in the world.” My father loved him a good Nathan’s frankfurter. It made him feel five years old, perhaps.

I had come to question adult answers to very specific child questions by this point. In the rapidly expanding gray matter tucked away in my bushy skull, it seemed illogical for it to be possible to have more than one answer to a perfectly good question (think of my early Star Trek influence), so I was cautious to accept answers as real truth under these circumstances.

Yet, as so many times it happens, even the passionate yet illogical answers we receive as children have a way of weaving themselves into the way we look at the world as adults. So, the Nathan’s Famous incident had a greater impact on me than perhaps the “Sky is Blue because…” incident or the “rocket fuel doesn’t work in automobiles because…” moment.

The belief that everyone knows something when it is famous and that something famous must be the best has significantly influenced me on my journey, sometimes in a good way, and sometimes in a very confusing way. Since we live in a society mildly obsessed with famous people, places and things, it has been hard not to be impacted by the spin we place upon certain people.

We met Richard Nixon at a Soho restaurant several years after he had resigned from the presidency. My mother got him to autograph a paper napkin and I remember him smiling and jostling his hand at me from across the round table. He seemed nice enough to my pre-political self. I hadn’t seen Frost-Nixon at that point.

That same year, 1976, my mom took me to the Museum of Natural History where we toured the Tutenkhaman exhibit. We stood outside in a long line on a sunny spring afternoon with thousands of other fans gathered to see perhaps the most famous dead person on the planet, with surely the best coffin. I was mesmerized as much by the hysteria surrounding this dead pharaoh  as the exhibit itself. Surely better than a hot dog with god knows what inside of it.

I was pretty much cool-crazed on Bruce Willis in junior high school, especially during the hit show Moonlighting. My friend Chris and I would get on the phone at 9:58pm every Tuesday night as the credits rolled and begin reciting our favorite one liners. “Do bears bear?” “Do butters fly?” “Do pickets fence?” The witty banter between Bruce Willis and Cybil Shepherd were sublime and we never got enough of Bruce’s flirty, smart-ass grins. They fit perfectly with our hormone riddled, heat-seeking bodies and the trajectory into high school.

You can imagine how hard I squeezed my burgeoning psychic abilities into manifesting a meeting with Mr. Willis the first time I made it to Los Angeles as a 15 year old young man. It was at Catch a Rising Star, the stand up comedy club, that I conjured him. He sat by himself at the bar with a Molson Golden lager (remember those) and stared ahead at the bar, occasionally smiling at a joke from onstage. My friends, already very impressed that I had come through on my predicted star sighting, nudged me out of my seat to go and meet L.A.’s Famous.  I walked up alongside him with a napkin and pen in hand (think Dick Nixon), and with my best charm, fed him his own line back to him. “Mr. Willis, do bears bear?”

“Aw, not now kid, after the show.” And he turned back to his beer.

Nixon was friendlier. I was crushed. Moonlighting went off the air the next year and Demi Moore left him for Ashton Kutcher, eventually. Just saying.

A few years later we were in L.A. again for my cousin’s wedding and as we rode the elevator at the Beverly Hilton, Roseann Barr hopped on, alone and vulnerable to east coast star force newbies. She was even worse than Bruce Willis had been, squeezing out a snarl to our advances. It’s not like we tried to run off with her purse. Famous, yes. Best? Oh, come on.

I went on to meet lots of “famous” folks in my 40 years. Had the pleasure of meeting Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan before a Berkeley Bowl concert, someone who was the best Qawaali Sufi singer in the world, famous most places outside of North America. I saw him exiting an Indian restaurant just hours before I would attend his concert and I screeched my pick-up truck to a halt, jumped out and charged him. His bodyguards promptly stopped me and then the Master waved them to let me through and he gave me a most satisfying bear hug. A pleasing memory.

There have been writers and teachers, spiritual guides, gurus, movie stars and newscasters. Some famous, some the best. Just last summer I had the pleasure of meeting Michael Pollan, Sonia Choquette, Louise Hay, Wayne Dyer, Cheryl Richardson, Caroline Myss and a score of others. Granted, many of them were on a Hay House cruise so it was like spearing fish in a barrel but it was all rather pleasant anyhow.

So, what about all these famous people, places, and things? Some call them Proper Nouns. I suppose because most of them require a certain proper behavior when one interacts with them in public. Stand behind this line, don’t move from that spot, pretend not to notice me unless I acknowledge you first, make sure you don’t overstay my kindness as I’ve just listened to your story about why you are so excited to be meeting me… it goes on.

To be truthful, there are lots of very real famous people who act as normal as the next person. There are also a fair amount of wing-nuts who might have traumatized some of the more well known folks roaming the planet with unusually poor boundaries and creepy vibes. Still, I continue to wonder what really makes a person famous. In this day and age, a person can become famous for shouting at the president during a speech or throwing a shoe at another one. Fame can come from waving a light saber around and posting it to YouTube or just telling a reporter that this group of people or that is bad. Instant Fame.

Hardly the best, though. It takes something more to be the best. Being the best is like being Superman. The best is like writing poetry like Hafiz or Rumi. Singing like Ella or Louis. The best is a Gandhi or a Jesus. Top-of-your-game kind of best. I suppose what made Nathan’s hot dogs the best for my dad had little to do with ingredients, proper cooking or even toppings. It was about that epiphany experience when he first realized the greatness for himself. What makes something or someone the best is our relationship to that thing or that person. What if I was in a bad mood when I bit my first Nathan’s hot dog? Would it’s greatness shatter my melancholy and its truth change me for life?