The mountaineer and outdoor clothing millionaire Yvon Chouinard said: "if you bring bivy gear, you'll end up bivying". "Bivy" is short for "bivouac", which means to sleep out somewhat unexpectantly on the mountain. What he meant was, if you carry a lot of heavy camping gear on a climb you'll probably end up climbing so slowly that you'll have to spend the night on the way up.
Contingency planning seems on paper to be a good idea. It seems smart to ask the question, "what do we do if we don't succeed?" "What happens if we don't reach the target, achieve the goal or hit the mark?"
The problem with having a plan "b" in case "plan "a" doesn't work out, is that we often end up executing plan "b". We inadvertently, subtly and unconsciously let ourselves off the hook from fully striving, aspiring and stretching.
The book "Don't Think of an Elephant" points this out. If I ask you not to think of an ELEPHANT, you can't help but think of an ELEPHANT. We tend to go where we are looking and end up where we are thinking. Superbike racers know this fact well: on a tight turn, the bike goes where your eyes go; if you look at the ditch that's where you'll end up. The same goes for climbing. I've never found it helpful to look at the ground, as a reminder of the consequences of a lapse of focus or judgement.
Is it great to manage risk? Yes. Is it good to operate as if the contingency plan was the main plan? Probably not.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Thursday, June 17, 2010
the answer is in the question
In design school, I came to appreciate that a well-defined problem is half-solved. Nothing so big as "how do we create world peace?" and nothing so trivial as "how do I cross the street?". Something in the middle is very constructive.
Great questions frame the entire problem-solving exercize. For example, in any professional service, the main problem for the service providers is that when we are not working, we are not making any money. Most service providers operate essentially a fee-for-service, billable hour set-up that has very little leverage and many barriers to scale.
Since I come from the industrial design world where we designed products that come off a production line–I've been interested in the service leverage problem. It's a design problem.
The problem ultimately is that a professional "practice" is missing several attributes that a high-leverage, scaleable "business" has. Michael Gerber made this distinction when he talked about "working in a business" versus "working on a business."
Creating leverage is the Holy Grail of the service world.
So the question: "how do I convert my coaching practice into a coaching business?" actually frames all of my business development activities as it forces me to see the opportunities for leverage and scale that I'm blind to as I practice my service. Now I'm working on building a team, a brand, programs on-line and a capital structure that makes it easy to bring partners on board. That's leverage. That's a business.
From a framing perspective, I like to think that I cannot really ask a question that at some level of conscious I don't have at least the start of an answer. If I can think of a question, I probably have the answer. Or my team does.
Great questions frame the entire problem-solving exercize. For example, in any professional service, the main problem for the service providers is that when we are not working, we are not making any money. Most service providers operate essentially a fee-for-service, billable hour set-up that has very little leverage and many barriers to scale.
Since I come from the industrial design world where we designed products that come off a production line–I've been interested in the service leverage problem. It's a design problem.
The problem ultimately is that a professional "practice" is missing several attributes that a high-leverage, scaleable "business" has. Michael Gerber made this distinction when he talked about "working in a business" versus "working on a business."
Creating leverage is the Holy Grail of the service world.
So the question: "how do I convert my coaching practice into a coaching business?" actually frames all of my business development activities as it forces me to see the opportunities for leverage and scale that I'm blind to as I practice my service. Now I'm working on building a team, a brand, programs on-line and a capital structure that makes it easy to bring partners on board. That's leverage. That's a business.
From a framing perspective, I like to think that I cannot really ask a question that at some level of conscious I don't have at least the start of an answer. If I can think of a question, I probably have the answer. Or my team does.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
team building lessons from a school of fish
When I was courting my wife, she lived in Edmonton and was a keen Fringe fanatic. The Edmonton Fringe Festival happens for a few weeks every summer and draws all sorts of "unusual" performers and an equally "unusual" audience.
Tania had been attending the festival for many years and got to watch many different kinds of experimental theatre and performance art. She thought it wise to introduce me into this world slowly and picked what she thought was a relatively conservative stand-up comic for my first experience. No point in scaring off the new boyfriend.
As it turned out, dude was flat out weird.
As it turns out, dude was flat out weird, in a really magnificent way.
He started his show with the lights off, as he gave a diatribe about the tenuous boundary that exists between a performer and the audience. The boundary is the stage.
He brought one guy up on stage and predictably had some mildly embarrassing fun with him. Then he brought a second person up and started playing with both. Then a third, then a fourth and then, eventually, he had all of us on stage and he went into the "audience." This process reversed what I think we all considered to be the stage. Audience members were now performers. Kinda.
While we were up on stage–maybe 150 of us–our host taught us how to act like a fish. We all crouched as we walked, with a hand flipping behind us simulating our tails, and our cheeks sucked into our teeth with our lips making the familiar fish mouth.
We practiced this a fews times and then he led us outside. We walked down Whyte Avenue as a normal looking, albeit large group and every once in a while he'd yell fish! and we'd all assume the fish position. We packed into several bars and he yelled fish! We surrounded a few innocent pedestrians and did "fish." Then we went into the middle of the intersection of Whyte and Calgary Trail–one of the busiest intersections in the city–and did "fish", blocking the road for several lights both ways.
We closed by singing the theme to the Flinstones, which of course by that time seemed like the normal thing to do. Then he disbanded the group and we all went our separate ways.
In 60 minutes, our "stand-up comedian" led us through one of the most interesting group bonding processes I've ever been through. I felt truly sad when it ended.
Tania had been attending the festival for many years and got to watch many different kinds of experimental theatre and performance art. She thought it wise to introduce me into this world slowly and picked what she thought was a relatively conservative stand-up comic for my first experience. No point in scaring off the new boyfriend.
As it turned out, dude was flat out weird.
As it turns out, dude was flat out weird, in a really magnificent way.
He started his show with the lights off, as he gave a diatribe about the tenuous boundary that exists between a performer and the audience. The boundary is the stage.
He brought one guy up on stage and predictably had some mildly embarrassing fun with him. Then he brought a second person up and started playing with both. Then a third, then a fourth and then, eventually, he had all of us on stage and he went into the "audience." This process reversed what I think we all considered to be the stage. Audience members were now performers. Kinda.
While we were up on stage–maybe 150 of us–our host taught us how to act like a fish. We all crouched as we walked, with a hand flipping behind us simulating our tails, and our cheeks sucked into our teeth with our lips making the familiar fish mouth.
We practiced this a fews times and then he led us outside. We walked down Whyte Avenue as a normal looking, albeit large group and every once in a while he'd yell fish! and we'd all assume the fish position. We packed into several bars and he yelled fish! We surrounded a few innocent pedestrians and did "fish." Then we went into the middle of the intersection of Whyte and Calgary Trail–one of the busiest intersections in the city–and did "fish", blocking the road for several lights both ways.
We closed by singing the theme to the Flinstones, which of course by that time seemed like the normal thing to do. Then he disbanded the group and we all went our separate ways.
In 60 minutes, our "stand-up comedian" led us through one of the most interesting group bonding processes I've ever been through. I felt truly sad when it ended.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
not a wealth of stealth
Emerson said: "who you are speaks so loudly, I can't hear what you're saying."
When I was 18, for a reason I don't remember and can't explain now, I became a bow hunter.
Since I don't do anything half-way, I set out on my first hunting trip to the back country in full camouflage, with face paint and even a dash of skunk scent applied in the way most men would apply cologne.
After traipsing through the forest for several hours and seeing nothing in the way of game to shoot at, I came across a field of several hundred cows.
I snuck up to the field. When I reached the fence line, I got down and crawled on my stomach to avoid detection, attempting to bypass the bovines without disturbing them.
I crawled with my head down for about 100 yards and then looked up for the first time. I was shocked by what I saw.
All the cows were staring at me, in the way that only cows can stare, with their heads cocked to the side, standing totally motionless, without so much as a tail wag.
At that point, one of the cows, which I assume was the alpha cow, walked up to within five feet of where I was hiding in the grass and proclamed: "moo". Not one of those slow gutteral "mmmmmmmmmmmeeeeeeeeeeeeeewwwwwwww" kind of moos but a moo that was just a single loud sharp syllable. And then the cow walked away, having taken care of herd business, leaving me humiliated in the grass.
I never bagged any game that day or really on any other day, for that matter. I couldn't even sneak up on a cow.
Sometimes when I face groups of people, I think I'm being all subtle, silently cloaking my true intentions, and I think that other people can't really see what I'm up to. But alas, I might just as well be transparent and come out with it because they can see through me anyway.
Go to http://stepup,net/ for more clues about how to present yourself in a compelling way.
When I was 18, for a reason I don't remember and can't explain now, I became a bow hunter.
Since I don't do anything half-way, I set out on my first hunting trip to the back country in full camouflage, with face paint and even a dash of skunk scent applied in the way most men would apply cologne.
After traipsing through the forest for several hours and seeing nothing in the way of game to shoot at, I came across a field of several hundred cows.
I snuck up to the field. When I reached the fence line, I got down and crawled on my stomach to avoid detection, attempting to bypass the bovines without disturbing them.
I crawled with my head down for about 100 yards and then looked up for the first time. I was shocked by what I saw.
All the cows were staring at me, in the way that only cows can stare, with their heads cocked to the side, standing totally motionless, without so much as a tail wag.
At that point, one of the cows, which I assume was the alpha cow, walked up to within five feet of where I was hiding in the grass and proclamed: "moo". Not one of those slow gutteral "mmmmmmmmmmmeeeeeeeeeeeeeewwwwwwww" kind of moos but a moo that was just a single loud sharp syllable. And then the cow walked away, having taken care of herd business, leaving me humiliated in the grass.
I never bagged any game that day or really on any other day, for that matter. I couldn't even sneak up on a cow.
Sometimes when I face groups of people, I think I'm being all subtle, silently cloaking my true intentions, and I think that other people can't really see what I'm up to. But alas, I might just as well be transparent and come out with it because they can see through me anyway.
Go to http://stepup,net/ for more clues about how to present yourself in a compelling way.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
ego–the good, bad and the ugly
Many authors in the self-help industry have been attacking the idea of ego, as if it were entirely a bad thing.
I disagree with this point of view. Ego has its place and nothing good would happen without it.
Ego is simply the place we store our self-concept and the concepts we store most deeply are the ones most firmly rooted in the presence of great emotion. Ego like any structure gives a useful short-hand of constructs, ideas and definitions on which to build. And like any structure they have an inertia that can stubbornly sabotage innovation and growth. Structure is not inherently bad as our lives are built on structure, but there are limitations.
For example, as a young kid, my dad would bring machines home for me to take apart. As I was disassembling the units, I'd study how they were put together and then reassemble them. I usually had parts leftover but that was part of the fun. This was they joy of my childhood and as I grew up, I became a professional designer. Not surprising at all if you knew me as a kid.
The idea of being a designer is a part of my self-concept and thus a part of my ego and most of the time it's quite constructive. So is the idea of excellence. As I've studied how things are made, I've developed an appreciation for the finer things in life.
This idea of excellence pervades all aspects of my personal and professional life, It affected my choice of spouse, my choice in clients (good news if you are one of them), drives the design of my coaching system and guides all of my purchasing decisions.
I recently returned to the sport of golf and reconnected with the negative part of my ego and excellence. I had not golfed since my late teens as I did not like the person I was becoming, but felt mature enough at 46 to have another go.
Naturally we bought the best equipment, sought out the best instruction and are playing the best and thus most challenging courses. I'm losing a lot of balls, which is expensive, because they are the best balls.
We played hideously in Lethbridge yesterday on a beautiful coulee course and then played again today. Lessons and practice are starting to kick in and I managed to birdie two holes in a row on the strength of my putting which was the first of my childhood golf skills to return.
At this point in the game, I was doing really well, on my way to the best score of my life when I realized that I was doing really well and on my way to the best score of my life.
Every time I addressed the ball from that point on an image of my final score flashed in my brain and I proceeded to double bogey the remaining holes. I would submit that this is a misuse of ego and the dark side of the otherwise virtuous drive towards excellence.
Ego is inherently neither a bad nor good thing, it just depends on how we use it. And sometimes, it get's ugly.
For help with translating negative ego into positive ego visit http://www.stepup.net/.
I disagree with this point of view. Ego has its place and nothing good would happen without it.
Ego is simply the place we store our self-concept and the concepts we store most deeply are the ones most firmly rooted in the presence of great emotion. Ego like any structure gives a useful short-hand of constructs, ideas and definitions on which to build. And like any structure they have an inertia that can stubbornly sabotage innovation and growth. Structure is not inherently bad as our lives are built on structure, but there are limitations.
For example, as a young kid, my dad would bring machines home for me to take apart. As I was disassembling the units, I'd study how they were put together and then reassemble them. I usually had parts leftover but that was part of the fun. This was they joy of my childhood and as I grew up, I became a professional designer. Not surprising at all if you knew me as a kid.
The idea of being a designer is a part of my self-concept and thus a part of my ego and most of the time it's quite constructive. So is the idea of excellence. As I've studied how things are made, I've developed an appreciation for the finer things in life.
This idea of excellence pervades all aspects of my personal and professional life, It affected my choice of spouse, my choice in clients (good news if you are one of them), drives the design of my coaching system and guides all of my purchasing decisions.
I recently returned to the sport of golf and reconnected with the negative part of my ego and excellence. I had not golfed since my late teens as I did not like the person I was becoming, but felt mature enough at 46 to have another go.
Naturally we bought the best equipment, sought out the best instruction and are playing the best and thus most challenging courses. I'm losing a lot of balls, which is expensive, because they are the best balls.
We played hideously in Lethbridge yesterday on a beautiful coulee course and then played again today. Lessons and practice are starting to kick in and I managed to birdie two holes in a row on the strength of my putting which was the first of my childhood golf skills to return.
At this point in the game, I was doing really well, on my way to the best score of my life when I realized that I was doing really well and on my way to the best score of my life.
Every time I addressed the ball from that point on an image of my final score flashed in my brain and I proceeded to double bogey the remaining holes. I would submit that this is a misuse of ego and the dark side of the otherwise virtuous drive towards excellence.
Ego is inherently neither a bad nor good thing, it just depends on how we use it. And sometimes, it get's ugly.
For help with translating negative ego into positive ego visit http://www.stepup.net/.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
a new way to keep score
Jeff Pain, the two-time world champion and Olympic silver medalist in skeleton, said in his book, "Marriage and Medals", that whenever he pictured the finish line at any time during a run, he'd not do that well. That mental picture of "victory", while intuitively something that might seem helpful, only took him out of the present moment. He was then just off focus enough to make the subtle mistakes that account for the fractions of seconds that are the difference between actual victory and failure.
I've been relearning golf this year and have discovered a similar pattern. I start relaxed, hit a couple of great tee shots, some lucky approach shots, a few great pitches and putts, have a few fortunate bogies and an encouraging par and then start getting cocky. Then, while I'm setting my stance, taking my back swing and striking the ball, I start imagining a great score at the end of the game. I'm then not very relaxed, hit some duffs and skulls, start losing balls and then start getting frustrated for about 12 holes. I start relaxing again once I'm certain I'm not going to have a great score and then usually par the last hole. Weird.
It doesn't quite seem right to me to completely disregard the score–every game including business has a score–but I needed a different way to measure my my performance.
I invented a new way to think about golf and came up with a different way to keep score most of the time.
Now, I just keep track of the number of times I hit the green in regulation (landing on the green 2 shots less than the par of the hole) and the number of times I do two or less putts. In my last round I either two putted or landed in regulation on all but three holes and did both on one hole to get my par of the day. Most of the time I did not hit in regulation and two-putt on the same hole and I have no idea what my final score was, but I was way less stressed out and was in a much better headspace to master the shots I'm struggling with (everything other than my putter, driver and wedges).
Paying attention to an appropriate metric will, in time, lead me to an excellent final result.
This thinking applies to any game, especially business.
For help with devising an intelligent metrics contact us at http://www.stepup.net/.
Got to http://www.marriageandmedals.com/ for information on ordering Jeff's book.
I've been relearning golf this year and have discovered a similar pattern. I start relaxed, hit a couple of great tee shots, some lucky approach shots, a few great pitches and putts, have a few fortunate bogies and an encouraging par and then start getting cocky. Then, while I'm setting my stance, taking my back swing and striking the ball, I start imagining a great score at the end of the game. I'm then not very relaxed, hit some duffs and skulls, start losing balls and then start getting frustrated for about 12 holes. I start relaxing again once I'm certain I'm not going to have a great score and then usually par the last hole. Weird.
It doesn't quite seem right to me to completely disregard the score–every game including business has a score–but I needed a different way to measure my my performance.
I invented a new way to think about golf and came up with a different way to keep score most of the time.
Now, I just keep track of the number of times I hit the green in regulation (landing on the green 2 shots less than the par of the hole) and the number of times I do two or less putts. In my last round I either two putted or landed in regulation on all but three holes and did both on one hole to get my par of the day. Most of the time I did not hit in regulation and two-putt on the same hole and I have no idea what my final score was, but I was way less stressed out and was in a much better headspace to master the shots I'm struggling with (everything other than my putter, driver and wedges).
Paying attention to an appropriate metric will, in time, lead me to an excellent final result.
This thinking applies to any game, especially business.
For help with devising an intelligent metrics contact us at http://www.stepup.net/.
Got to http://www.marriageandmedals.com/ for information on ordering Jeff's book.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
clues to a calling
The concept of a "calling" originally referred to the pull a man felt to become a priest. In sacred terms, God was calling a man into service.
From a contemporary and secular perspective, the term refers more to the general sense of mission people feel to serve humanity in someway.
A calling implies that someone needs me, that I have a place in the world to express my talents and unique contribution. It's an opportunity to do what I'm here to do, what I was born to do.
So who's calling?
The answer to that question for me is a group of people that, for whatever reason, I'm best suited to support and most attracted to helping in someway. When I make my unique contribution to this group, I'm answering the call. I'm fulfilling my purpose. And I also create the most value for this group and thus make the most money doing it.
But who are these people?
First off, it's not something general like, "people who need help". That definition applies to everyone. My definition is specific without being narrow. Can you imagine if I asked a colleague for a referral saying: "can you introduce me to some people who need help?" The answer is everyone and thus no one.
If I was in the business of making outdoor clothing, for example, I might be tempted to elaborate by saying: "people who go outside." Again pretty general. All people who go outside need to stay warm and dry but that's when the generalities cease to be useful. There are several kinds of people who go outside in winter. Each is a completely different group that represents a subculture within society at large. Consider how the design of a winter jacket would change for oil rig workers, skiers, snowmobilers, snowboarders, dog mushers, mail carriers, cyclists or business executives. "Warm" and "dry" apply to all categories but the designs would be very different for each group. Each group has a way about it, a way of speaking, thinking and operating that is quite different from the other groups. It pays to be specific. It's also easier to get referrals and introductions to a group that is more specific. Do you know any skiers that I could meet? Probably. But there's still a tighter definition that makes it easier to spot my group.
My group, ideal client, target market–the people who are calling me–are all entrepreneurs. I've always been drawn to entrepreneurs. I was raised by entrepreneurs, live in an entrepreneurial city and did my Master's degree in design and entrepreneurship. And still, "entrepreneurs" is still too general. Do you know any entrepreneurs? Probably. But there are so many kinds of entrepreneurs that it actually makes it harder to visualize specific people. Can you imagine me buying a list of entrepreneurs? It would be huge. Where would I start to make calls?
Firstly, I prefer entrepreneurs who have successfully navigated start-up. There is nobility in helping an entrepreneur start a business and unfortunately I suck at it. The problems that come with success are numerous and intriguing and I've become an expert in them. I really like entrepreneurs who are in growth mode and need to build infrastructure to support that growth; I also like people who have built that structure and are facing the challenge of passing on the reigns to successors. I also prefer to work with smart people and people who want to help other people. This is why I tend to focus on the technical services.
So here's my basic profile: successful entrepreneurs operating a technical, service-based business in a growth mode. I also have some demographics to tighten it further but that's my group (I tend to work with companies between 20 and 200 people and the leaders of the groups tend to be baby boomers, who I relate best with). That definition is very focused and helps me to determine where my people are and how to get to them. I'm still free to work with someone who comes along that does not appear fit my profile, but, is nevertheless intriguing. It's just easier to find something specific that general, even though it might seem counter-intuitive. In time, I come to understand the needs of my group and how to best suit them.
If you fit that profile and I invited you to a party at my house, you'd meet a bunch of other smart and successful service-oriented people growing a business. Makes for a great party, don't you think? If you do, you are probably one of my people. Feel free to call. http://www.stepup.net/
From a contemporary and secular perspective, the term refers more to the general sense of mission people feel to serve humanity in someway.
A calling implies that someone needs me, that I have a place in the world to express my talents and unique contribution. It's an opportunity to do what I'm here to do, what I was born to do.
So who's calling?
The answer to that question for me is a group of people that, for whatever reason, I'm best suited to support and most attracted to helping in someway. When I make my unique contribution to this group, I'm answering the call. I'm fulfilling my purpose. And I also create the most value for this group and thus make the most money doing it.
But who are these people?
First off, it's not something general like, "people who need help". That definition applies to everyone. My definition is specific without being narrow. Can you imagine if I asked a colleague for a referral saying: "can you introduce me to some people who need help?" The answer is everyone and thus no one.
If I was in the business of making outdoor clothing, for example, I might be tempted to elaborate by saying: "people who go outside." Again pretty general. All people who go outside need to stay warm and dry but that's when the generalities cease to be useful. There are several kinds of people who go outside in winter. Each is a completely different group that represents a subculture within society at large. Consider how the design of a winter jacket would change for oil rig workers, skiers, snowmobilers, snowboarders, dog mushers, mail carriers, cyclists or business executives. "Warm" and "dry" apply to all categories but the designs would be very different for each group. Each group has a way about it, a way of speaking, thinking and operating that is quite different from the other groups. It pays to be specific. It's also easier to get referrals and introductions to a group that is more specific. Do you know any skiers that I could meet? Probably. But there's still a tighter definition that makes it easier to spot my group.
My group, ideal client, target market–the people who are calling me–are all entrepreneurs. I've always been drawn to entrepreneurs. I was raised by entrepreneurs, live in an entrepreneurial city and did my Master's degree in design and entrepreneurship. And still, "entrepreneurs" is still too general. Do you know any entrepreneurs? Probably. But there are so many kinds of entrepreneurs that it actually makes it harder to visualize specific people. Can you imagine me buying a list of entrepreneurs? It would be huge. Where would I start to make calls?
Firstly, I prefer entrepreneurs who have successfully navigated start-up. There is nobility in helping an entrepreneur start a business and unfortunately I suck at it. The problems that come with success are numerous and intriguing and I've become an expert in them. I really like entrepreneurs who are in growth mode and need to build infrastructure to support that growth; I also like people who have built that structure and are facing the challenge of passing on the reigns to successors. I also prefer to work with smart people and people who want to help other people. This is why I tend to focus on the technical services.
So here's my basic profile: successful entrepreneurs operating a technical, service-based business in a growth mode. I also have some demographics to tighten it further but that's my group (I tend to work with companies between 20 and 200 people and the leaders of the groups tend to be baby boomers, who I relate best with). That definition is very focused and helps me to determine where my people are and how to get to them. I'm still free to work with someone who comes along that does not appear fit my profile, but, is nevertheless intriguing. It's just easier to find something specific that general, even though it might seem counter-intuitive. In time, I come to understand the needs of my group and how to best suit them.
If you fit that profile and I invited you to a party at my house, you'd meet a bunch of other smart and successful service-oriented people growing a business. Makes for a great party, don't you think? If you do, you are probably one of my people. Feel free to call. http://www.stepup.net/
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