We soft-launched a campaign earlier today that’s meant to crowdfund a budget with which to hire a web developer to fix our website. This is critical to our mission, which is to help people feeling stuck in regard to healing. With your help we can reach half a million stakeholders in 2019 (60 times more than in 2018) with our free resources: Healers Magazine, our social network and our events. Every good campaign comes with a press release but how many come with a multimedia manifesto rife with pop culture references? I don’t know, but this one does!
Healers™ is a radically inclusive community coming together to help people heal themselves and each other. Healers Magazine allows practitioners to share the techniques of and wisdom behind all holistic healing modalities, ranging from the ancient to the modern, and to improve the accessibility of these options to patients and to one another. Both were introduced in 2013, shorty after the dawning of the Age of Aquarius. December of 2012 marked the conclusion of a “b’ak’tun”—a time period in the Mesoamerican “long count calendar”—bringing humanity into a new era that many Native Americans call the Fifth World. A product of the prophetic times and tales of ascension/enlightenment, Healers is here to help elevate humanity by healing its collective unconscious.
Times are tough yet great. My girlfriend and I just broke and I’ve never had so little money; nevertheless, I’ve never been happier, or felt closer to blowing up—all it took was a little bit of Healing Gold, a couple of Apple products and some big dreams.
Once upon a time I knew next to nothing about business and computers but after eight years of arduous, stubborn, scrappy startup hustling (approximately 30,000 hours), I finally feel that I’ve overcome some enormous learning curves. The time to blow up has come and I’m channeling Michael Jackson’s “This Is It.”
“This is it. I can feel I’m the light of the world. This is real.” (MJ)
The campaign on which we’ve been working obsessively for more than four months is finally live and I feel like a Christian kid on Christmas Eve who can’t fall asleep. I’ve started and contributed to more than a dozen early-stage, social-venture startups. They all provided good learning experiences allowing me to get a grasp on the en vogue, agile design process and the customer development model. (Did I mention I went to business school?) Unlike those launches, this one is not stressing me out or scaring me, despite the extremely high stakes. Apologies to my East Coast kin but what I am is, in a word, stoked. The work is done, I love every deliverable and strategy that we crafted for the campaign, and most importantly our readers love us and we love them/you! The Secret is out: success is subject to the Power Of Positive Thinking, but there’s more to it than that. I feel like all the blood, sweat and love I’ve poured into Healers™ was a response to a calling from something much bigger than me though I do sometimes feel that I’m just living up to my namesake—we all know the words “benevolent” and “beneficial” but did you know that in Spanish “Ben, tell me” means “bless me”? Accidentally or according to my destiny I recognized that the world is in need of healing and healers and it needs it/them now. We at Healers are just the messengers—don’t shoot us; instead, help us shoot that lunar thing in the sky.
Speaking of which, the second new moon after the winter solstice presented itself on February 5th, at which point we entered the year of the pig. In terms of yin and yang, the pig is yin which I guess in on our side because it finally seems like things are beginning to go my way professionally (which is good since I’ve somewhat officially married my career). In Chinese culture, pigs are the symbol of wealth. Now I don’t know whether or not it’s because I don’t eat pork, but I’ve felt a swelling sense of purpose, I’ve watched my ideas blossom into breakthroughs, and I’ve savored crystal-clear clarity since the new Chinese Lunar New Year began. (God I love clarity. I might divorce my career and marry her instead, or negotiate a ménage a trois situation.) There were unfortunately many technical difficulties in the past two months but this is nothing new. Everyone in my immediate family seems to be cursed with bad, tech luck, and my company seems to have inherited it. I honestly think it’s dark energy trying to balance out the good we at Healers are doing but I suppose we could be unconsciously attracting (but fighting) it. Thankfully, the worst is behind us. We just need to renovate the website a bit and then we’re halfway to heaven.
What happens to me and my ego is unimportant. Leave me to simmer on the summer streets of Mumbai or loiter in the pollutant-laden parks of New Delhi. (I actually like it here in India when it’s not summertime and, regardless of the temperature and pollution, it’s pretty ideal for a tech-focused entrepreneur running on fumes financially like me.) My point is that I’m not in this for materialistic items like those listed in “Royals.”
“Cristal, Maybach, diamonds on [one’s] timepiece, jet planes, islands, tigers on a gold leash…” (Ella Marija Lani Yelich-O’Connor)
Scratch that; I wouldn’t mind some islands, but who would? Napoléon Bonaparte? Tom Hanks? Still, if I was motivated by self-interest rather than selflessness I would simply go after a high-paying job and leverage my degrees and experiences to ball out.
And now I will begin to mathematically prove to those of who would like to keep reading, which is optional, that this campaign is definitely going to go viral.
Let’s say you take my word for it that I’m not economically opportunistic. Why wouldn’t you want to support our cause? Because you don’t know me? We’re going to change that by the end of this article but even now, before you know that which I’m about to confide, I think you might be surprised by the degree to which we’re already acquainted. That might be a little optimistically heavy-handed; still, it’s pretty much undeniable that all humans are connected with one another in at least one of many ways—e.g., the astral plane, Morphogenetic Fields (see the hundredth monkey effect) and the collective unconscious—the most palatable being the concept known as the six degrees of separation. If any two people can be connected through six mutual acquaintances we can’t really be as separate as I tried to trick you into suggesting when I asked if you think that we don’t know one another.
Hold the phone a sec. If people were connected by six degrees before Al Gore, bless his green soul, then surely things have changed since. I only researched this a little, after I started writing, but I’m nonetheless tempted to hypothesize that we’ve already gotten down to four to five degrees of separation thanks to the wondrous World Wide Web. Once upon a time I was a mathlete but I abandoned STEM in college in favor of activism, philosophy, psychology and frisbee—in that order. Since I’m rusty please take the following arithmetic with x + y proverbial grains of salt. (That said I did get a 720/800 on the math section of the SATs back in the day and, in order to graduate from college early, I had to take a grad school course in philosophical, symbolic logic—ouch. I’ll give it a shot and you can correct me if I’m wrong in accordance with that scientific method about which everyone’s talking.)
“Each person in the world (at least among the…people active on Facebook) is connected to every other person by an average of 3.5 other people.” (Facebook Research)
Did you ever ask yourself why LinkedIn limits the connections with whom you can connect to three degrees? Facebook just answered that question for us: LinkedIn doesn’t have to provide four or more degrees between users because anyone can connect with almost any other user through three intermediaries. Is it just me or is six degrees starting to sound like an antiquated statistic?
So the internet seems to be rapidly decreasing the degrees of separations dividing humanity. You know, for a perverse, porn-clogged series of tubes and the dark webs they contain, the fact that the internet brings us together—one way (window) or another (incognito window)—is flipping romantic!
“Love with a capital L: That’s the Great Love, love as the source of everything, love as radical unity. At this level, love is another name for Absolute Reality, Supreme Consciousness, Brahman, God, the Tao, the Source—that vast presence the Shaivite tradition sometimes calls the Heart. The yoga tradition often describes Absolute Reality as satchidananda—meaning that it is pure beingness, present everywhere and in everything (sat), that it is innately conscious (chit), and that it is the essence of joy and love (ananda).” (Sally Kempton)
Wow, the internet really is inherently a tool of love, like cupid’s arrows, and love is basically God. It doesn’t get much better than that as far as technological innovation is concerned—so thanks Al! I’m joking. Tim Berners-Lee is the actual creator of the Web and he’s the one who came up with the misleading WWW name. It’s not actually worldwide so we should instead call it the Half-WWW. According to the International Telecommunications Union, 44.9% people are not online globally.
If the internet is “universal” and 3.4 billion people are offline, then syllogistically they are not taking part in our universe; so this is how the other half, those who lie outside of LinkedIn’s three-degree limitations for whom even Facebook’s connectivity is no match, lives—marginalized nominally by all of us who call the Web worldwide. Are they the patriarchical yan to 2019’s lovingly unifying, swinelike yin? Or are we the ones with an excess of yan energy, of figurative dark matter? I think that that was indeed the case for many years but that we’re now we’re finally beginning to use technology, especially the internet, for the right reasons: to improve people’s lives and to curtail environmental destruction. I don’t want to claim that organizations like Healers are doing God’s work but we are certainly doing Love’s work and it just so happens that Love was defined as God by one of the authors quoted above.
I don’t want to debate the merits of globalization yet I am tempted to suggest that humanity can’t become truly, lovingly unified if those of you reading this can’t connect with people who can’t. Are offline folks still separated to one another by about six degrees? Are there a small number of connectors who allow one half of the world to relate to the other half? Yes, they are offline acquaintances of online acquaintances and vice versa. They are our saving grace in regard to Love.
I definitely do know you but not very well; as such, I’m not sure if anything I’m saying is blowing your mind as much as it is mine as I’m researching and writing this. Come on, the universe is expanding but the degrees of separation are shrinking? That’s pretty cray, yea? Nay, it is not. First of all, the degrees of separation are pretty subjective by nature—are these so-called acquaintances with whom we are “connected” people we know personally, like face-to-face, or are some of them just cuties we’re chatting with on Tinder?
Anecdotally, I have nearly 4,000 LinkedIn connections. I’ve never had any trouble forging meaningful alliances on the much-beloved, professional platform by leveraging mutual contacts. (Feel free to reach out to me if you need any introductions.) I’m pretty sure I could successfully schedule a call or face-to-face meeting with upwards of 75% of them if I needed to, which I sometimes do. So there’s that. Being virtually connected makes it vastly easier for me to connect with you offline. Can you imagine how different dating is for those who still don’t have access to smartphones, from how it is for the rest of e-harmonious us?
Here’s the thing. I only mentioned the six degrees of separation as one example of the ways in which every one of us is connected (which I thought went well if I do say so myself). There are plenty of other ways to support the argument that we are all pals who just haven’t happened to meet yet. Assuming this is true, then I am halfway done proving that that which I’m writing at this very moment is going to be shared far and wide. Now I need to tell you what led me to start Healers, at which point I’ll be able to connect the viral dots for you.
First, since we’re all friends here, please allow me to get candid about my spiritual life. I feel like the spiritual reawakening for which I’ve been praying for a year or so has begun, especially this week. I may be bipolar but I assure you this is not mania talking—even if it were, you should never disregard something someone says just because they’re on the spectrum. I’m just a passionate man with a plan who was in the right place at the right time with the right people: right here, right now, with you.
Despite the degree to which it feels like a higher power wants our initiative to change the world, our unlofty New Year’s resolution was/is simply to survive, to stay afloat. Maybe it’s because I grew up on the water but I can’t resist aquatic figures of speech in describing the importance of the next few days, which will determine whether our scrappy vessel will sink or swim. We’re already taking on water but there’s still hope. Our stakeholders might hear our maydays and come to the rescue. Either way I, like Dido, will go down with this ship—or not. Yes, this will be determined by you and the degree to which you give a damn.
Why am I so betrothed to this labor of love? The truth is that it is the culmination of not one, not two, but three vendettas. I would say that it’s a matter of killing three birds with one stone but I don’t want to kill any birds and there’s a more meaningful analogy: making lemonade from three lemons—i.e., turning problems into solutions.
It didn’t seem like a big deal when my mother asked me to go on a walk with her and told me that she’d been diagnosed with bipolar disorder. She’d always been eccentric and nothing seemed to change.
Then one night in NYC, about seven years later, I had a bad feeling that something was wrong. I asked my dad and sister—none of us had heard from her in several days. I hacked into her Verizon and Gmail account and saw that she hadn’t called, texted or emailed anyone in days. I couldn’t reach any family members in her neck of the woods so my ex-fiancée and I drove from one end of Long Island to the other in the middle of the night. I found her on the floor groaning and I embraced her until the ambulance arrived. Cleaning up the house I realized that she’d attempted to take her life.
Clearly things were not going as well as I thought they were, which is no wonder since everyone who knew about the state of my mother’s condition failed to inform me, or my sister, that she was suicidal despite six or so attempts. Once I discovered what was going down I designed a one-year plan to save her life—for real this time.
I visited her in the hospital and the psych ward and then and I started taking care of her dog whom I also had to hospitalize, for an ACL operation. I awaited their return and then officially moved back into my childhood home to look after them when they were discharged. Shortly thereafter Mom bravely decided to take part in an electroconvulsive therapy study in Harlem, where she underwent treatment as an inpatient for three months. I frequented the institution and met with her caretakers each time. My father and I pleaded with them to take her off of dextroamphetamine—a drug that is rarely prescribed to bipolar patients—which they did. Because of their prognosis we were then able to convince her local psychiatrist—the one and only shrink she ever saw for one-on-one treatment—to keep her off of the uppers.
By the time she was discharged, her moods and behavior were drastically different and I would say better. Her cognitive abilities were diminished, without a doubt, which was pretty alarming in light of her usual brilliance; oh well, I’ll hyperbolically take happy-but-dumb over smart-but-miserable any day of the week. Most importantly, without the hypomania-inducing pills she wasn’t irritable any longer. For the first time in a long time she was great company. Once she was stable I followed my ex to the Bay.
The plan was coming along nicely. All that was left was to get her to visit us and see the carefree life we were creating out West, as Americans are known to do, and show her such a good time that she’d agree to join us permanently. Unfortunately, the visit didn’t go according to plan. She met my would-be inlaws, which went well, and we had a good time visiting San Francisco, Santa Cruz and San Diego, but we had some bad arguments and I could tell she wasn’t sold on NorCal living. In one of our heated discussions she told me that she’d been able to get her cursed psychiatrist to put her back on the ADHD medication that her loved ones and a whole team of prestigious doctors begged him to discontinue. We then said our bittersweet goodbyes. I watched her drive away from the last place I’d ever see her (the same location that I later proposed to my ex in her memory). She returned to New York and less than two weeks later she overdosed on a mixture of various psychiatric pills that she’d stockpiled.
My conviction then and now is that while the stimulants didn’t directly make her suicidal they indirectly killed her by pushing her loved ones away, isolating her from her entire support system. They in other words made her unbearable to be around, which was her undoing since and all she really needed was love. I’m not sure which four-letter word to use in order to describe her psychiatrist.
My first vendetta is a generalized and not entirely logical grudge against mainstream mental healthcare, which led me to make a commitment to help people in my mom’s shoes—suffering from what amounts to a spiritual crisis—by informing them about their holistic, non-psychiatric options, as my mother’s misinformed loved ones (myself included) failed to do. Healers is here to educate anyone and everyone about mainstream and less common healing practices alike. We also want to ensure that our stakeholders are aware of nearby holistic, healing resources.
My mother would sometimes jokingly claim that her condition was what led my older sister to study neuroscience and me to study psychology. Personally I majored in philosophy and minored in cognitive science. I spent my fourth semester in Vienna, Freud’s stomping ground, where I took a psych class with Vamik Volkan, a renowned psychoanalyst and prolific author, who became my first mentor. I also commissioned a private tutor to learn about French analyst Jacques Lacan. I was smitten, so after college I attended the New York Graduate School of Psychoanalysis, where I studied full-time for two and a half semesters. I was a straight-A student but in the last two weeks of the second semester I lost my mind. Specifically, I had my first and only major, manic episode. I was hospitalized, involuntarily, for the most traumatic six days of my life. The repercussions of my hospitalization were enormous, life-changing, and I could really have used the support of my alma mater.
Much to my dismay the school would not allow me to return without getting cleared by a psychiatrist. Still harboring PTSD from my run-in with psychiatry I refused on principal—and fear—and made my case to the administration that it was unfair for a psychoanalytic institution to require psychiatric validation when the latter differs so vastly from the former ideologically. (As Troy Ave poignantly raps, “you don’t go to the Chinese store when you want pizza.”) A year or so later I re-enrolled but still refused to see a psychiatrist. I ignored the registrar for about a month in protest and then succumbed to the pressure, never to return. I fantasize that one day Healers will make such a big impact that the institution will apologize, adjust their student handbook which didn’t say anything about psychiatric clearance anyway, and then issue me an honorary degree.
So my second vendetta is moral indignation against holistic providers who don’t have the balls (apologies to my fellow feminists) to stand up to Western medicine. Noting that psychoanalysis and psychiatry evolved contemporaneously and the former was the dominant field for many years, I resolved to empower psychoanalysts and other healing practitioners to rally and fight for their right to help those in need of gentler care. After all, psychiatric medication is a form of treatment and never a cure. Healers’ official stance is not that psychiatry should be at-all-costs avoided. We simply suggest that patients give holistic healing practices a shot before turning to physically dangerous psychopharmaceuticals and life-exacerbating labels. We feel the same way about non-acute, physical symptoms in relation to medical care or lack thereof.
After I was coerced into leaving the only American school that offers a master’s degree in psychoanalysis, I decided to enroll in business school. I had next to no familiarity with, or prior interest in, the subject matter but I’d become infatuated with social entrepreneurship—using business for social and environmental good. Why bother helping a handful or two of patients when I could potentially help millions applying this blossoming and hope-inspiring business model? Also, I was missing my radical activist days and the grassroots organizations I helped create and lead as an undergraduate and high school student. That was in 2011. By the end of 2012, despite my studies, I’d recruited cofounders and incorporated a non-profit and for-profit, two sister startups dedicated to social/environmental innovation.
At some point in 2012 my student loans dried up so, for the first time, I pushed my startups to the side and got a job—at Psychology Tomorrow Magazine in this instance. It was surprisingly great because I got to combine my training in mental health and my new startup experience. I started as a paid, marketing intern and in about a year was promoted to COO. In that time I increased traction from 1,000 monthly readers to 100,000. I then produced a crowdfunding campaign and raised enough capital to design and develop a new website that became the magazine’s one and only source of revenue. We broke even in a month and were seeing significant revenue from the new product within a few months. Healers was conceived while I was project-managing the add-on website. I envisioned Healers then and now as a very similar platform with distinct branding and, despite Psychology Tomorrow’s radical progressiveness, more accepting organizational values.
Speaking of close-mindedness, the founder (Stanley Siegel) did not appreciate my decision to relocate to California even though we didn’t even have an office, making telecommuting a necessity. I did so for the sake of my mental health (as I also did two years prior). The irony is that shortly thereafter he moved from NYC, where we were once neighbors, to Portland. Despite all the success I’d brought his magazine he turned on me and, after some alarming accusations, let me go. No organization can help the masses if it doesn’t scale and no organization can scale if founders don’t learn to delegate to and trust their team. I started to realize that the company was really designed to support the founder’s playboy lifestyle. Also, I hate to say this but I believe that the disease with which he was diagnosed just before our parting ways had a detrimental effect upon his formerly flamboyant disposition—what do you call the opposite of psychosomatic symptoms? I first noticed the change when this formerly-sweet gentleman started sending unsolicited, angry rants to Nica Noelle, one of our celebrity partners. The problem was not that he fired me but that he failed to recognize the epic contributions I made, to honor the stock options I’d secured, and to provide me with the equity I’d earned through unpaid labor and purchased using the inheritance I received when my mother passed. Not for nothing, I was legally entitled to $10,000 in company shares and on principle how dare he appropriate funds that I contributed in order to honor my mother’s memory?
My third vendetta is opposition to short-sightedness. I happen to identify as a relocation therapist because I combine my training in psychoanalysis, my family history of mental illness, and the extensive travels I’ve had the fortune of savoring, in order to help others engage in what I call “intentional travel.” My former boss, like my former psychoanalyst did two years prior, disregarded relocation therapy as a valid form of healing and discouraged me from moving from New York to California, which I nonetheless did—both times. Wanting to help legitimize practices like intentional traveling, I began to imagine Healers as a multichannel, public-health initiative that would be the most inclusive platform around in regard to healing philosophies and practical modalities. As such, anyone who calls oneself a healer is welcome to share one’s beliefs with the Healers community and/or offer one’s services.
I’ll admit it. Public health is not the cause about which I am most passionate—that would be social justice (though they are without a doubt deeply interrelated). Because of this when things fell apart with Psychology Tomorrow I didn’t jump right into Healers. I’m pretty sure that that would have been a lot more strategically sound but I didn’t realize or care about that then. I don’t think I was emotionally prepared to do so following all of the zesty drama above.
My background in philosophy and passion for social justice coalesced, granting me an epiphany that I thought was mine and mine alone. It turns out that more and more activists are having similar visions these days. Yes, I’m steering the conversation back to social entrepreneurship but I’m not quite backtracking. What I’m really talking about now is corporate social responsibility and what I call “consumer citizenship”—the movements behind a now-ubiquitous slogan: “vote with your wallet.”
Before starting Healers I—along with four full-time co-founders, twelve part-time employees and four consultants—created a social media platform designed to allow consumers to engage and inform one another about ethical consumption, to crowdsource data on the social and and environmental impact of all companies, everywhere, and to use gamification to incentivize socially conscious, environmentally friendly shopping.
They say that successful entrepreneurs can’t be afraid to fail but they also say that they ought to fail fast. Fail fast we did not. From 2014 and 2017 we toiled and tinkered fervently, investing a staggering sum of sweat-equity hours and massive mountains of my mom’s money. It came out beautifully. Then there was the launch which went well but after that, even though we were giving it our very best, we had to concede that we weren’t attracting enough users, not to mention clients. Running out of funds, I had a nervous breakdown of sorts at the end of 2017 and emerged from a brief suicidal phase at the beginning of 2018 with a new plan: to put the project on the back burner and give Healers my full attention, as I have since. Fortunately, editing and writing for Healers Magazine has been very therapeutic so I’m doing much better now.
When my mother moved on to the other side (which may or may not be the ultimate form of relation therapy) and I inherited a relatively large sum of money at the ripe age of 28, my dad urged me to be careful. Recently I found out that this was largely because one of the drafts of my mother’s will stipulated that I was not to receive anything, at least not right away, out of the fear that I would spend it all while experiencing bipolar mania—years and years before I accepted my diagnosis. Manic, hypomanic or just overzealous, I spent what most entrepreneurs would consider a fortune building the company and its signature product—such was my desire to put the portion of my mother’s life savings left to me to good use. At the risk of sounding grandiose, I thought and still think that the platform on which we were working could potentially help save the world from socially stratifying corporate greed and already fatal climate change and is just what the world right now needs. Sadly, it seems that people aren’t quite ready to take full responsibility for the social and environmental repercussions of their purchases, but once Healers is successful I have every intention of getting this other project going again. The reason that I’m explaining what happened here is that I don’t want you to despise me for burning through cash to the point that there was hardly anything left over to launch Healers. Blame Bradley Nowell and the impact his band had on me and my friends when we were teenagers.
Six years after I got kicked out of grad school, four years after my mother took her life and three years after I fell out with Psychology Tomorrow, I saw that the time to launch Healers had finally come and felt emotionally ready to seek catharsis by facing the three figurative lemons. I put together a small team and was able to scrape together a shoestring budget with which to release what developers call a minimum viable product, a functioning prototype of our magazine and social network, a jury-rigged promise of all that is to come technologically. In just over twelve months we released the first four issues of Healers Magazine and watched readership escalate with each edition.
If you ask anyone on our team he/she would say that things are going great for the most part. The rate at which the number of readers and the number of subscribers are growing is approaching 20% and 40% per month respectively. There are already more than 1,000 authors and artists contributing to Healers Magazine or intending to. There are now 1,730 healers and people interested in healing active on our social network. I should mention that we do not have any accountants on our team. If we did then they’d surely describe our situation a little differently and if they were talking to me they might say, “Ben, you’ve got $20,000 in debt because you maxed out your credit cards on programmers and your website’s shit. It’s time to call it quits.”
Even so, a romantic idealist, I’d probably just end up ignoring them and march forward anyway. I’ll just work harder. I recently saw a tweet I shared last year in which which I bragged about working a thirteen hour shift. I laughed to myself because that sounds like nothing now. At this very moment I’ve been working forty hours straight with no breaks. (Believe it or not my long-time business partner Kimberly Phan and I broke that record by eight hours in 2011 during our first, chaotic launch, which was also a crowdfunding campaign and was successful mind you.) I’ve been spending so much time at my standing desk that my legs have become insanely inflamed. My ankles were so swollen last week I could barely squeeze into my loosest shoes. Not to worry, mine are merely first-world problems; still, I am financially stuck in India, a developing country, where my friends call me Bliblibaba (a Khareshwari).
We’re entering the proverbial moment of truth, which is also our time of need, and the stakes are high, but at least I’ve got April covered rent-wise. I learned my lesson about fiscal responsibility before starting Healers but there was barely enough capital to bootstrap our way to the beta version of our website, which still needs finishing touches and refurbishing. Alas, there is no more cash—too little, too late. My bad.
Fret not, our problems are our solutions—this is the slogan of my aforementioned boss/mentor/friend and the theme of the issue of Healers Magazine that we released three weeks ago—and it’s clear that Healers was always meant to be a crowd-owned and crowd-operated enterprise.
I’m not crazy—not at the moment anyway. I’m not claiming to be able to see the future. So when I say that there’s no way this campaign isn’t going to go viral, please understand that this is mostly because I obey the law of attraction. However, I also see myriad indicators suggesting that things are about to take off.
The first thing to note is that we’re extremely connected these days, even to people who aren’t online. It’s not rocket science: if enough of you share our campaign and enough of you who see it contribute—it will be successful; and, if those of you who are connectors share what you read in our magazine with those who can’t access it, we’ll be able to reach them too. It’s just ridiculously easier nowadays to connect online and offline, so we’ve got that going for us. Now we just need to share a campaign that people like enough to forward.
“An extremely important variable to measure the effectiveness of viral user acquisition is the viral coefficient – also known as K-factor. The viral coefficient…depends on two metrics: the number of invites sent by each user (i); the percentage of conversions on invites (c).” (Viral Patel)
Anyone can start a magazine. Anyone can launch a website using WordPress. What’s special about Healers are the reasons why I started it, which is why I told you about my lemonade.
Being aware of the wild stories that went into our formation, I’m guessing you”re now much more likely to tell your friends about us than you would be if you just watched our campaign video. I gave you the juicy details and you are more than welcome to gossip on our behalf. This is not idle chatter because the events that led to the creation of Healers are as profound as they are scandalous. We also talked about love as a God-like unifying force and discussed some nerdy topics like social relativity and New Age prophecies upon which your friends might want to geek out. Are you not entertained? What else do you want me to do? Make a Harlem Shake video? Done.
Our campaign is going to be successful because it has to be. In order to fight fire with fire, it must go viral as the enemy we’re attacking is itself a virus. I mean, did you see those stats in the our above video? Let’s see those again:
- 49% of American millennials identify as spiritually unfulfilled. (Pew Research Center)
- Nearly 800 000 people die due to suicide every year. (World Health Organization)
- More than 106,000 American are killed by prescription medications annually. (FDA)
- Only 26% of Europeans use complementary and alternative medicine. (SJPH)
- As few as 7% of Americans adults meditate. (NCHS)
“Fear, left unchecked, can spread like a virus.” (Lish McBride)
If you agree that our mission is important, why wouldn’t you want to support it? Perhaps because someone else could do it instead? Unfortunately there are no other projects like ours around. It’s going to be us or it’s not going to be anyone. That just leaves one reason why you might not support us: because doing so is too expensive. If this is true you can simply help us out by sharing this very post. That said, the smallest pledge we’re asking for is only $10 and comes with a 50% rebate.
Regarding business transparency, we’ve held our cards close to our chest, until today. It’s now time to go all-in, to open the doors and pull back the curtains. Hell, let’s tear down the walls and turn this structure into a glass house. We need to allow everyone to get involved with our purpose-driven initiative. If we’re to live up to our extremely worthwhile, ever-urgent mission and make a real difference it will be because you leaned in and helped us get going. We need your support and we need it yesterday. Watch or rewatch our video, if you’d like to be reminded just how important our mission is, and ask yourself: do you want to live in a world with or without Healers?