Carr Hagerman

Innovation Tour

I'm running near the end of my tour on Innovation.  I'm not really speaking on innovation, but juicing the group of hotel franchise owners to get them ready to do a brainstorm on topics related to their hotel operations.

No matter how many exercises or activities the participants would engage, the ideas they'd play with didn't have much movement. They certainly came up with ideas, and some were radical, but the embedded need to make lists or embrace solutions to immediate problems is overwhelming.  Thinking radically, or playing with ideas that seemed ridiculous or impossible is a practiced skill and not easily taught. Here are a few thingsI've learned as a result of working on this project.

• When someone writes down or shares an idea, ask "where does that take you/us?"  In my sessions with these hotel owners that question seemed to move the conversation into more interesting territory.  Keep asking it!
• Use pictures and stories of artists who have challenged the ordinary as a provocation. In this case, I've used Jackson Pollack.  Pollack's innovation was to take the canvas off the easel and tack it to the floor, and then throw paint on it (A form call "Action Painting").  In the past, I've played short peices of music that were considered innovative and revolutionary. Showing images, playing recordings and explaining the paradigm shift and it's results demonstrates how small innovations have a big impact.
• Robert McKim's 30 Circles exercise (found in Visual Thinking) is a great way to provoke the idea that we all tend to compartmentalize the world. The exercise involves using a white piece of paper containing 30 concentric circles, and drawing as many objects in a short period of time as they can imagine.  Mostly, people see each circle as a singular object and don't think to tie the circles together.  It demonstrates how we tend to categorize everything, and even how we minimize how we view the world.
• Get rid of the seats, get rid of the tables..if possible. The tables and the seating tend to confirm the status of ideas as thought objects written in lists.  Create a room where people can move, stand up, sit on the floor, or otherwise do something out of the ordinary. Stand up..MOVE!
• Making our ideas as visual as possible is critically important.  In these sessions, everyone made lists and jotted down notes. Fine, but it robs the conversation of an element of creative provocation that is necessary to jumping and building innovative ideas. The more visual people can be, the more likely a new thought will occur.
• The result of a brainstorm might not come during the brainstorm. The brainstorm is merely a provocation, what happens after that is where a lot of energy can be captured.  Encourage participants to be aware and carry a journal with them to record the potential/possible that will no doubt emerge following a robust brainstorm.

Be Here....? Where else am I going to be?

The present moment has never been as popular, with a host of best selling books, videos and course work devoted to helping us stay tuned into the here and now.  It seems as a nation, we are bestowing great honor on the present moment and that the here and now is valuable real estate.  If we can be quiet, shut up, and pay attention, we apparently feel better, have less stress, serve customers better, and have more frequent bowl movements if we can just BE.  HERE.  NOW.

Am I really missing something?  Am I/we really THAT distracted?

To be fair, I spent nearly a decade teaching the Fish! Philosophy to companies all over the world, (Fish! is based on the words of the fishmongers of Pike Place Fish, in Seattle) and one of the principles of Fish! is "Be There."  In the Fish! Philosophy training video one of the fishmongers declares that "You must always, BE THERE." when serving others.  Leadership in the companies that hired me to teach Fish! wanted me to convince their employees to "Be There" a little more for the customer, or one another.  If they did, so the logic went, the company would be more profitable and be a more enjoyable place to work.  But, most of the people I've met believe they already are present enough and frankly they're convinced that it is other people that aren't' being present.

I don't believe we are suffering. Most of us seem to be pretty good at being present and though the world is full of distractions and always has been, I question whether we really believe we're not here, we're there and that life would be better if our minds were, ah,  blank..er.   Unless we want to live alone in the mountains or seaside island we are always going to wrangle with distractions and to bring our attention back to a resting pulse.

If being present means we have less clutter and embrace simplicity, or even just going with the flow, there certainly is value in that. If we are stressed and anxious, taking time to rest our heads or take a walk is inarguably healthy.  But be weary of the new age guru's and snake oil salesmen who suggest you aren't being yourself when you're "doing," that you're not whole or that you don't know who you are because you aren't in the here and now. They suggest, as I regret I have done in some of my seminars, that if you could actually practice "being there," then somehow customer service would be better, that you'd make more sales, your personal and professional relationships would improve and you'd enjoy more success.  Perhaps that is true, but equally possible is that most of us already..here!

Why not simply celebrate your life as it is occurs to you right now, and hold gratitude close to your heart.  We are, most of us, present enough and smart enough to know (teens not always included) when it's time to be with another person.  Sure, there are moments when we space out, or our cellphones and iPods get in the way of connecting to another, but I believe those are going to continue happen no matter how much the guru's of doubt and doublespeak tell us otherwise.

Perhaps it is as simple as taking a deep breath, chilling out, and accepting we already are here enough, that "doing" is honorable and whether we are being or doing, we choose, it is and should always be enough.

 

Serious Play..

I'm attending the Art Center Design Conference in Pasadena this week, and the theme for the entire conference is "Serious Play."  In the opening session last night, Tim Brown, the CEO of IDEO, spoke about some of the fallacies of Play.  He was addressing the popular idea that real Play is unbound by rules, that play happens when we are totally free.  In some cases that may be so, but anarchy in human endeavors rarely produces useful ideas or natural energy.

One of the things Tim Brown said was "We need some rules to break some old rules.  Play isn't anarchy" 

We engaged in an exercise where we had thirty seconds to draw a picture of the person sitting next to us.  At the end of the thirty seconds, the room filled with the sound of laughter, embarrassment and surprise, with many of us apologizing for our quick sketch.  Tim explained that we fear the judgment of our peers and our own inner critic so much, that we are compelled to apologize for our creative expression.  He goes on to say that when children are asked to do the same exercise, they do so without hesitation or fear, in fact celebrating the chance to create and play. As children get older, they become less inclined to risk exposing their gifts to the harsh light of their peers.

If we are to propagate playfulness and creativity in our service engagements, we need to design environments with an architecture that supports freedom.  While rules can help define where we can play and what isn't appropriate for the environment, too much control and a demand for compliance can strangle playful expression.

Country Story

Living in the country with my wife, and with land stretching out so far and wide (Green Acres theme!), you get accustomed to a near constant parade of creepies, critters and crawlers.  In the past four years we've seen all manner of wildlife wander through yard and garden.  We have fox, coyote, racoons, skunks and ground hogs.  We have a steady stream of heron overhead, sandhill cranes, pelicans, and skies full of big, little and even littler birds.  We have far too many deer, and once and a while we have a cranky turkey hobbles by, stopping for a momentary hob-nob at the base of the bird feeder.

Living here has given me an appreciation for how much and how little life matters to the inhabitants of this landscape, or how nature has written a different code for those creatures who inhabit the wild spaces.  Every Spring there is a mad rush to replicate, everything is horny and humping and working overtime to get the eggs out, spawn progeny and recreate.  It isn't just the mammals either, but the bugs, the swamp belching frogs and other slithering reptiles that are caught up in the dance of fornicating frenzy.

Wildlife deals a different hand to its young. In the trees life and death is played out with cold resolve.   Being a chick isn't an easy path, even in the bent twig cradle in which they are born, there are many that don't survive.   Humans would never toss a baby out into the brush because it was too weak or stupid,  or build a home, like a nest, atop a dead offspring. I've seen all of that.  We would be hopelessly traumatized if one of our children were attacked in such manner, yet a hawk or black bird will often swoop into a nest, pull the heads off a few of the offspring, or carry one away leaving a few behind for the mother to tend to when she returns. This happens without our attention or consent, and the mother bird won't weep or moan, but simply except the circumstances as given and move on to reproduce more.  Out here, life is tough and often violent and most of it comes and goes without much notice from the neighboring bipeds.

This morning, while I was coddling a cup of hot coffee, a sparrow flew itself, with a loud thud, into the patio window.  It rolled backwards into the dirt showing some sign of shock, and then just sort of sat there starring into space. I wanted to do something, but really, once you spend this much time with this much wildlife you begin to see events like this differently, it's normal.  It was clear this little bird wasn't going to survive, and nothing in the world, my medicine cabinet or universe cared, so I just stood and watched its breathing slow down and eventually its head fell uneventfully to the side and it expired. No fanfare, no gnashing of teeth, no family to care, and no sound, just a simple uneventful death.  I picked up its still warm body and tossed it into the high, dry grass, where it will be welcomed fodder for bugs and worms.

I wonder about that little life and whether or not it actually had any significance.  Does it matter that it lived at all, and does anything or anyone in the world care whether it ever lived?   Watching this bird perish this morning was neither painful or consuming, but it was provocative.  Its nearly useless life provoked me to consider the details of my own life, and the subtle pulse of life around and within me. Everything, at some level, matters, and it matters most when I'm paying attention. Life, wherever it is and whatever shape it comes in, matters.

Oddly, I find myself feeling something about this birds death, I'm feeling a welcomed  empathy.  The day will come when I too will hit a window and stare into space as my heartbeat slows and my consciousness fades to static. My life will come to its own end, and while I hope people I care about will be nearby, as time stretches on after I'm gone,  my life, my contributions and what I owned or cared about will fall into the brush and decompose. Perhaps then, the only difference between the sparrow and me, is simply the length of time it takes for the world to forget I was here.

I want to live  sensitive to the small and insignificant in the world around me.  I want to notice the hairline thin details in others, to get over myself. If nothing else, I just want to stay awake, and breath.

But alas I must go, there are things to do today, however, I will allow the experience of having watched this bird die soften me; a reminder that all life, no matter how small, is precious.  It will be a better day for it,  and for me, a better way to live my life.

Chasing the possible.

Each morning my lab, Willie, stands at a large window watching and waiting for something in the yard to move. My wife and I live in the country, where our home is set at the apex of treeless hill. From the window there is an unbroken view of several acres of rough land that is host to every manner of mammal, bug and bird. Between the hours of 5 and 7 in the morning it is kind of migratory rush hour led by deer, fox, coyote and lately, a large lumbering heard of wild Turkey. 

Willie, whose brain to body size suggest a challenged intelligence, is driven to chase or capture any or all of these critters as they wander through the yard foraging for something to eat.  He stands nearly motionless in front of the window, ears pert, eyes wide and certain, waiting for something to move.  Then, with a sudden burst of energy, he moves to the door and begins whining to go out, a sign that he's spotting something and must be dealt with.

The door opens and Willie bounds across the yard, down the hill, and into swamp water, brush or trees, flushing out the violators.  Deer, which continue to make the mistake of pausing in our yard, continually become a target of Willie's quest for a kill.  They stand with tails and ears twitching until they see the streak of brown fur and intention flying down the hill at preternatural speed, at which point they leap away, white tails up and a trail of turd dispensed in fear behind them.

There is a purposefulness to Willie's quest.  Though his cognitive abilities may come up short and he seems to forget that he has never actually caught anything, he doesn't give up. Every morning the pursuit is fresh, the possibilities never seem to change, though one day it would be easy to imagine he will catch something weakened or injured and make the kill (more likely, he would catch it and not actually know what to do with it!)

What then of our own pursuits?  How often in work and life we sacrifice a goal or an idea which has provoked us because we couldn't, or didn't believe we could capture or sink our teeth into it the first time? Willie is certainly wired for chase and the taste of blood and sinew, so he never pauses to wonder if he will fail, never stops running full out, never yields to a larger, rational brain that would tell him this pursuit is a waste of time. 

Perhaps we too are wired for such adventures but have just given up listening, watching, and looking for something interesting to wander out of the brush.  But the longer we sit and wait, the more we'll feel the creep of entropy and the dulling of our senses.  Willie may never catch anything, but for him the chase is the prize, and each attempt sharpens his senses and resolve. What would my life look like if I would pursue something that mattered to me with the same relentless determination?

Blake said "He who desires, but acts not, breeds pestilence."   We don't always have to capture to win, we can just enter the chase for the pursuit itself.  Sooner or later we'll close the gap and catch something, though nothing will every happen until and unless we dash towards our target.  Life is measured by movement, and though we may not capture all we long for or chase, in the pursuit itself we will feel more alive and awake and perhaps discover that it isn't always the capture that matters, but that the hunt will keep our life big, bold and vital. 

Needless Possibilities...

As a “Motivational Speaker”, a title I rarely announce with comfort, I’ve traveled to enough conferences and events to see many of my fellow "motivators" well, motivate.  Motivate is defined as; getting someone excited about doing or accomplishing something.  Not exactly a high stakes game, and though there is nothing wrong about honestly provoking people to think about things in a different way, or to take action on something that matters, it really isn't that hard to do.

During the past few years I’ve become increasingly uncomfortable with motivation syntax.  Language, like so many other things, has its fashions.  Certain words and concepts become vogue, only to be replaced by another generation of words that are perhaps more hip and cool.  Terms like “paradigms” and “coach-able moments” seem to be everywhere, then just as quickly something smoother and more “powerfully authentic” shows up and we start all over again.

What is troubling to me (and I’m no expert in language) is the unchallenged use and context of so many words and ideas.  What we get from the books, articles and motivational gobble-de-gook, are terms, words and phrases that sound important and powerful, but upon the slightest examination discover how often the definition and context in which these words are used is silly or downright false. 

Why does this matter?  Because language is really all we have to define our experiences and to communicate ideas and concepts.  If we simply distort words to comply with our concepts than both become meaningless and useless.  After all, if everyone called you a different name, and your real name was never used, your identity in the world would be lost. Words are important, and how they are used is even more important.

The latest fashion in word or phrase usage, like “infinite possibilities” or “doing the impossible” burn like new age incense and mantra chanting and seem to imply something meaningful and powerful in the context of how they are so often used.  In the past year I have heard these phrases used more and more by the motivational preachers, which is usually a signal to me to look closer at what is going on here.

In motivation speak there is this common theme,  that we can become whatever we want, and that if we simply apply ourselves enough we can do anything.  We are encouraged to look at the world around us and see the infinite number of possibilities, apparently meaning there aren't any limits to what we can achieve. 

This might be a nice thought, but utter nonsense.  It is really quit impossible.   Sure, we can say everyone could grow up to be the president, but in practice that probability is so remote as to be actually impossible.  It’s a bit like winning the lottery.  Sure, someone wins, but statistically no one wins, and the odds are stupid against you ever winning the big-ticket lottery, so it’s safe to say you’ll NEVER win the jackpot lottery.

So while the possibilities are seemingly limitless the impossibilities are bigger and far more likely to occur.  We are free to give it a shot, but lets not fool ourselves in the conference rooms and hallways of our workplaces about infinite possibilities.  Our possibilities are finite, and frankly, in my world that seems like it should be enough and more than any of us need. 

In a recent issue of Fast Company the global leader of Cirque du soleil was quoted as saying. “Everyday, I wake up and think, what am I going to do today that is impossible?”

If the impossible still means something, than the answer to this absurd question is, nothing.  Impossible means it can’t be done.  What he really means to ask is, “what am I going to do today that is really, really hard to do?”  Not exactly quotable, but certainly more accurate and, I think, honest.

Why do we need infinite possibilities when the few we have are more than enough to fill a lifetime?  Perhaps an infinite possibility is simply a form of resistance, that to seemingly have so many options keeps us from having to choose something right under our noses.  It seems to me that we have too many damn possibilities, and we’d be better served by throwing infinite out and working from a handful of meaningful and powerful possibilities that we already have around us. 

In the end the consumers of motivational thinking, books, tapes and speakers, need to look at the language and ask if it makes sense.  Pick up a dictionary and look up words, try them on, see if they matter.  Challenge the context of these ideas and trust your instincts.

I believe we can, and should work to grow and improve our lot in life.  There is nothing wrong with learning about our selves, and there are reasonable voices and ideas that can provoke our imaginations along the journey of self-discovery.   But if our journey and hard word are to mean something to us, than let us protect our language from the meaningless hype and the best selling gurus of good will.