"Mum, if you're so interested in this folk metal band, why don't you come to the concert with me on Friday night," my 17-year-old son asked as we watched the band's YouTube videos. "Don't be ridiculous," I said. "All that screaming and headbanging and moshing. Do you know how old I am?"

Later that night I thought, why not? What might I learn if I went? Who might I meet and what kind of story might emerge?

The next morning I read a post by Seth Godin, "Ridiculous is the New Remarkable," in which he wrote:

We can view the term ridiculous as an insult from the keeper of normal, a put-down from the person who seeks to maintain the status quo and avoid even the contemplation of failure.

Or we embrace ridiculous as the sign that maybe, just maybe, we're being generous, daring, creative and silly. You know, remarkable.

Generous, daring, creative and silly?  Mmmmm.

Then yesterday a big city mayor's chief of staff called and asked if I could lead a retreat the Saturday after Christmas for front-line city managers who are burned out and frustrated.  "Their jobs are never going to get easier, but maybe you could help them get re-energized and see that they're part of something bigger."

Again, my first thought was, "That's ridiculous.  I planned on taking a week off. I have no time to get my head around this. I don't know any of these people, and I'd be giving my time away."

So I agreed to do it.

This afternoon I have a call with a former editor at Random House about editing a book that I've been too afraid to push out into the world, and yet feel needs to get into the world.  I've decided to self-publish the book, which seems ridiculous. Will anyone take it seriously if I self-publish?   With Guy Kawasaki's new book  as my guide, I'm going to do it.  (The books is APE: Author, Publisher, Entrepreneur: How To Publish Your Book.)

You see, I've decided to make "ridiculous" a strategy for 2013.

When presented with situations that my gut screams "RIDICULOUS!" I am going to say yes. Ridiculous will be a filter for  making decisions on how I spend my time, how I learn, and how I challenge my own assumptions.  You see, though I am a rebel at work, it's easy to fall into business and life as usual, holding on to assumptions and unconsciously rejecting new perspectives.

Since I made this  decision yesterday, the year ahead feels quite exciting.  Perhaps even liberating.

I don't know where this ridiculous adventure will take me, but I am confident I will learn much, laugh much, and become a more creative and empathetic person.

Warmest wishes for a holiday season that's ridiculously happy and rich in  possibilities.

Lois