I’m president of my company, but I’m also a salesman. I’m president of my company, but I run a pirate ship. I’m a publisher, a writer, a blogger, an author, a videoblogger, a podcaster, a conference organizer, a community developer, a leader, a servant, a participant, a speaker, and many other things.

You worry about names. You think long and hard about titles. You put boxes around what you’re doing, if that suits you.

I’ll be over here just doing. Thinking, planning, doing, and observing my results.

What’s your name? How are you defining yourself? Better still (or worse), how does the name for what you do limit what you do?

Photo credit Jack Dorsey

In the case of the list above, it was intended to be helpful. I find it helpful. I found a few other people that I’ve yet to pay attention to that add to the information mix of what we learn about on the web. There are some really great names on there. And then, I’m on there, so it makes me feel good.

It’s the same if you list companies. I, for instance, intend to write up the kinds of social software platforms I recommend most often to people. I know that when I publish the list, I will hear from several companies who feel I surely made a mistake by not including them on the list.

When writing a blog post, sometimes we include people as examples. Sometimes, that’s a flattering thing. Other times, we’re throwing a few extra people under the bus.

When we call names, we exclude. When we don’t, we are too bland and neutral. I don’t think there’s a way to do it without someone feeling offended, excluded or otherwise.

What do you feel when you see lists where you think you belong and you don’t find yourself there? How do you proceed? How do these lists help you, or do they?

Photo credit, foundphotoslj