Paddle Two Rivers

[continued from yesterday’s post – October 16, 2013 – of no title]

After reading my post about the similarity in actor auditions and entrepreneur pitches, Step Onto The Field, Skip sent me several questions and reflections. One of my favorite questions from his batch concerned this section of the post:

An exciting viable idea in the hands of a pretender is a useless thing – just as brilliant plays are routinely slaughtered in the hands of fakers.

Skip asked me to clarify this statement relative to two rivers of thought we’d previously paddled. The first river was the notion that a brilliant play is different in every production despite the sameness of the script. How can a single script be interpreted in such vastly different ways? Is it the actor-as-pretender that makes the play useless? Or, is it the second river of leadership, the direction that can dull the brilliant? Skip reminded me of a phrase I like to use: save-your-ass-theatre. It’s a phenomenon that happens when the leadership is weak so all the actors (members of a team) resort to saving their own ass instead of bringing their best game for the team.

Plays are a literary form performed in an arena called a “stage.” A play is like the playbook of a football team. It maps the ideal action but must be executed by the players in an ever-changing context. Actors that pretend to execute the action will kill a play just as fast an NFL player that pretends to play. The pretending eliminates the need to watch. The absence of anything real is as boring and lethal as what is now happening in the public schools. Separating content and method (the equivalent of pretending to learn instead of engaging the unknown) is mind numbing.

Entrepreneurs are great a numbing investors minds because they have confused reading the playbook with executing the play.

The written play is poetry, often a piece of art by itself. It transforms when activated and the variables of activation are endless. Different actors, different cultures, different audiences, different budgets, different stages, different eras, different points of view,…; no play is ever performed the exact same way night to night because the audience is different night to night. Plays are different decade to decade and society to society. It is like the Buddhist concept that you can never step into the same river twice.

Entrepreneurs often confuse their big idea with the presentation of their big idea. The two are as different as a play as literary poetry and as a produced piece of theatre.

As I wrote above, save-your-ass-theatre happens when leadership is weak. The hallmark of weak leadership is the investment in being expert. Great leaders don’t orient according to what they “know.” They orient toward what they don’t know. They can never be expert because they are not trumpeting their past experiences but are engaging with the mysteries of the moment. Great directors of plays, like great leaders in organizations, facilitate the gifts of their team toward a common intention. Great leaders serve the story, the intention, the ideal, the creation, the business – something bigger than themselves. That’s why experts make lousy leaders: experts by definition serve only themselves. Experts, by definition, need others to be beneath them.

Skip and I have watched accelerator cohorts sadly devolve into isolated islands lost in pitch mania. The partners in the accelerators (experts all) look high and low for an explanation for the lack of clarity but rarely have the capacity to look at their leadership. Cohort members know, like actors know, that there will be an opening night, a moment when they will step in front of an audience and need to be seen. If they have had strong guidance, they will show up as members of a powerful team in service to a big idea, ready to step into the great unknown (also known as potential). If they have had experts all along, they will have become pretenders just like their leaders, invested in looking good and eager to tell you what they already know.

[..to be continued]

For a humorous look at the wonderful world of innovation and new ventures, check out my new comic strip Fl!p and the gang at Fl!p Comics.

[Continued from Know Your Net]

In addition to using the phrases “honest moment” and “honest action,” I used the term “honest pursuit” and Skip asked, “Pursuit? Same or different from honest action and honest moment.”

One of my favorite terms from the theatre is “split intention.” It has come in handy most of my life and is useful in all settings from corporate to non-profit to education. Viv gave me the perfect shorthand definition for a split intention. It’s from a Chinese proverb: chase two rabbits and both will get away. Chasing two rabbits splits your focus and confuses your action. For actors, a split intention happens when the actor believes they can determine what they audience will think of their performance. They focus on audience response rather than pursue their intention on the stage. The split focus also splits the audience from entering the story. The actor engages in a power game by trying to please or be seen as…. The performance experience for all concerned becomes a lie rather than an opening to a deeper relationship, a shared moment of truth. The pursuit is a false.

In my past life facilitating change processes in education and organizations, I often used two related phrases that are aspects of a split intention: circumstance driven and intention driven. Organizations spend oodles of time defining their values with the notion that they are driven by a clean set of aligned values. It’s nice on paper but falls apart when the money dries up. Nothing goes out the window faster when the economy tanks than the phrase, “We value our employees.” If you want to know what an organization or nation really values, watch what they do when the cash flow disappears. An honest pursuit doesn’t waver when the circumstance changes. This is one reason why I love artists and the artistry in myself: we do the work whether there is money or not. The artistry trumps the circumstance. The imperative runs deep.

Entrepreneurs and artists are a similar breed of cat. Both are marginally feral. They desire artistic/creative freedom. They want their ideas to be manifest in the world and desire to prosper from their efforts. They want to create their own constraints. Usually (but not always), entrepreneurs are trying to fill a need. They are in a service profession (whether they recognize it our not). They have fun creating cool things that make life easier for the user. Entrepreneurs split themselves when they succumb to the illusion that an investor controls their destiny. They split themselves when they give away their intention for investor dollars. They essentially become circumstance driven and, like the actor attempting to be liked by the audience, their pursuit becomes false. They give away the essential for the immediate.

The split becomes visible in their pitches. Are they pursuing the creation of their idea or hunting for dollars? This distinction is a swords edge but the difference is dramatic. After all, a pitch is made to investors. However, in the first case, the pursuit is intention driven and the second case it is circumstance driven. How much of the idea/dream will be sacrificed for the funding? It takes dollars to make an entrepreneur’s idea manifest. It also takes boundaries. Actors succeed when their pursuit is in service to the play and not themselves. Entrepreneurs succeed when their pursuit is in service to their users and not to their funders.

[to be continued]

For a humorous look at the wonderful world of innovation and new ventures, check out my new comic strip Fl!p and the gang at Fl!p Comics.

Know Your Net

[Continued from the post Step Onto The Field]
One of the reasons I adore working with Skip in our company, Flipped Start-Up, is that he requires me to look deeper into my assertions. He routinely asks me to explain, expand, question, re-consider, and dive deeper into my thoughts and perceptions. For instance, yesterday he read my post, Step Onto The Field, about actor auditions and entrepreneur pitches. Today he sent a response with 10 questions that made my brow knit and will give me blog fodder for weeks.

For instance, in the post I wrote this:

Auditors want actors to succeed. They want to be engaged, surprised, and swept into an honest moment. They want to meet the actor on the field of possibility. They want access into the story and the door is always honest action.

His questions: What is an honest moment? Is there a difference between an honest moment and an honest action?

I had a few great mentors in the theatre and they taught me that the art of acting was the art of presence. For instance, it is a common misperception that acting is about pretending. It is not. Acting as defined by my masters is the honest pursuit of an intention in imaginary circumstances. An actor that pretends to pursue their intention actually prohibits the audience from participating in the story. It is the actor’s honest pursuit of their intention that opens the story door for the audience. Athletes do not pretend to play the game. They play. They play to win and that is what keeps the fans invested. The game is real. The same is true for actors. The game is real. They know their goal, how to score points, and what they need to do to win. The action is honest.

So my first stab at Skip’s question is this: an honest moment is to be fully present – as an athlete is fully present – within imagined circumstances. It may come as a shock but the world series or the world cup or the super bowl are made-up circumstances, just as is Hamlet’s Denmark. We believe that the made-up circumstance is real when the pursuit on the field is real. Next year there will be another world series winner just as 200 years from now there will be another production of Hamlet.

David Miller takes his student actors to hockey games so they can see honest action in the pursuit of a real goal. Get the puck into the net. The play called “hockey” is about getting the puck into the net more times than the other team (Note: the rules of the game are made up. In the theatre, the rules of the game are called “circumstance.”). David is a brilliant teacher who knows that young actors have been steeped in the language of pretending. Their actions are often dishonest because they are invested in being liked by the audience instead of knowing the power and simplicity of playing to get the puck into the net. The net is not as apparent for actors but no less essential to their action.

Entrepreneurs have the same problem as young actors. They rarely recognize the game and moment-to-moment have no clue where to find their net. Many times they don’t even know how to locate the ice rink. They don’t see that their circumstance is as made-up as any other game. Consequently, they pretend. They play the role of CEO or CTO (made up roles for a start up) and want their audience to like them. Being liked is not the net. They want their audience to think they know what they are doing. Knowing what they are doing is not the net. They pretend to participate in accelerator programming only because that may lead to funding. Their actions are consequently dishonest.

Shifting the circumstance might illuminate the point: I just had dinner with a college student who told me his classes were worthless. He was bored. I asked him why he continued to go to school and he told me that he had to play the game if he wanted a degree because a degree would get him a better job. He thinks the net is a better job and so is dishonest in his action. He thinks the game is “get a degree.” So, he pretends. He thinks his boredom is the fault of the university. It is not. He thinks he is being forced to participate. He is not. College students have been anesthetized to think that a better job is the net. It is not. They think someone else has what they seek and over look the mindset necessary to live a vital life (which is the same mindset required to really learn as opposed to pretend to learn). The net is their mindset. This same concept applies to entrepreneurs. The net is their mindset.

[to be continued….]

For a humorous look at the wonderful world of innovation and new ventures, check out my new comic strip Fl!p and the gang at Fl!p Comics.

Step Onto The Field

The first few decades of my career were rooted in the theatre. In casting plays and assembling companies I’ve held and seen hundreds of auditions. Generally, it was my experience as an auditor (and also in managing auditions for others) that in the first round of auditions an auditor can see everything they need to know about an actor in seven seconds or less. Whether the audition is a prepared piece, a cold reading or some form of improvisation, this “seven second” rule seems to hold. For the auditor, the rest of the audition is usually an act of courtesy or spent hoping that they are wrong about what they already know. Auditors want actors to succeed. They want to be engaged, surprised, and swept into an honest moment. They want to meet the actor on the field of possibility. They want access into the story and the door is always honest action.

What can an auditor see in seven seconds or less that inspires them to call the actor back or put their file in the “no” pile? Probably a more accurate question is, “What can the auditor feel that inspires them to call back the actor?” The honest pursuit of an intention is something that can be felt before it can be seen. This is true on or off the stage, isn’t it? Do you feel it when someone is not authentic? Do you “know it” when you are being told a half-truth? How many times have you said, “I knew it but didn’t listen to myself.” Auditioning others is as an act of listening to what you sense in the first few seconds and the scanner is seeking honesty.

In the past few years I’ve been watching entrepreneurs do pitches for investors. Auditions and pitches are surprisingly similar activities! In both cases, the “seven second” rule applies. Investors know, like auditors know, when they are seeing something honest or something manufactured. An exciting viable idea in the hands of a pretender is a useless thing – just as brilliant plays are routinely slaughtered in the hands of fakers. Entrepreneurs, like actors, are more likely to meet success when they cease giving away their power and show up as they are. Showing up is not passive and has nothing to do with information delivery. Showing up means to share the quest, to bring others along on the pursuit of a dream. Showing up is being present with others. It is inclusive (as opposed to protected).

Rule #1 for entrepreneurs is the same as it is for actors: You can’t determine what others (investors/auditors) see or think or feel or value. You can only bring your best game to the field of possibility and love playing it.

For a humorous look at the wonderful world of innovation and new ventures, check out my new comic strip Fl!p and the gang at Fl!p Comics.

Feel It

I’m not making this up. It rained the entire time I was in Seattle packing up my studio. The morning we left the sun broke through and was with us as we crossed Washington, Idaho, Montana, North Dakota, Minnesota, and Wisconsin. We crossed five states during the days that the weather channel chirped about the quadruple threat of storms. Each day we were on the road we heard dire weather predictions and reports of record snowfall. Each day we experienced blue skies, crisp air and warm sun. It was so gorgeous that we dallied. We stopped in Idaho and spent the majority of a day walking through the leaves and snoozing on a warm rock. It was as if we were in a bubble of amazing autumn weather.

We talked with strangers along the way who told us of the miserable rains the day before we arrived. We heard more than once that the storms would come the day after we passed through – and they did. Since I am given to metaphor I want to believe that the weather was an affirmation of this move. I want to believe that the weather was a blessing by the universe saying, “Yes. You are on the right path.” Whether I believe it or not, that is how I felt.

I hear often (and say) phrases like, “It wasn’t meant to be.” Or, “The universe didn’t want me to do it.” Or, “I was blocked, it wasn’t the right time.” Or, “The door was closed to me.” Or the opposite side of the coin, “I knew it was my time!” Or, “All the forces were with me today!” Or, “It must have been my time.” Or, “It is my lucky day!” Affirmations and sense-making come in many forms and are expressed through a variety of phrases.

It’s worth the time to ask, “If it was meant to be, who meant it to be; who intended it?” If the universe wants something or doesn’t want something, then are we merely pieces in a chess game, a rook or a bishop. What is it that “wants?”

I like to think that the universe works the other way around: it responds. When we intend, when we act from clarity of vision and a deeper truth, the universe responds. We want. The universe responds when we have clarity of intention. When we are muddy, we get mud. For much of the past year I have been heart-split. I have been muddy in my intentions, conflicted in my thoughts and actions. When my internal warfare was over, when the smoke cleared and peace was declared, when I could see clearly and act with clarity, I was met with clarity, simplicity and light. And just like my move from Seattle, the rains stopped at last, the skies cleared, and the path has been gorgeous with sun, an open road, brilliant autumn leaves, plenty of supplies and places to rest just when I need them. A blessing from the universe? It certainly feels that way.

For a humorous look at the wonderful world of innovation and new ventures, check out my new comic strip Fl!p and the gang at Fl!p Comics.

Feel The Vastness

The day we packed the studio there was a break in the rain and I was grateful for the moment of sun. The previous night on Skip’s deck we were treated to a double rainbow. It was vibrant for a few precious moments and then faded. Skip took some photographs before it dissipated and then we drank wine and laughed.

The first night back in Seattle, walking from the light rail to the ferry, we were drenched. The skies opened and buckets of rain soaked us to the core. Judy gave us wooly dry socks and hot soup to warm us. She transformed my story of reentry from one of harsh weather to one of deep and enduring friendship. Later, she played a song on the harp so that I might remember Seattle.

This morning as we crested the pass and began our decent into the eastern part of the state, I felt released. I was drawn to the Puget Sound almost 15 years ago. It was a magnet, the place I was supposed to be. I was seeking that indefinable something, the parts of myself I thought were missing; it turns out I had them all along. I had to stop looking to find them. Today, it seems that the poles of my earth reversed themselves and sent me on my way. It happened in a moment and I sighed at the recognition.

Kerri and I stopped at the Wild Horses monument. We climbed the hill and stood still with the running metal horses. The sun was warm so we sat on a rock and took in the expanse of the gorge. I closed my eyes and felt the vastness of space and the autumn and of life.

Tonight, I do not believe that chapters open or close and I have no faith that time is linear or progresses in any single direction. Past and future are stories, merely. Once, I saw Stephen Hawking talk about the universe as bubbles and where they brush together, for a moment, entire worlds come into being.

For a humorous look at the wonderful world of innovation and new ventures, check out my new comic strip Fl!p and the gang at Fl!p Comics.

Peel The Onion

It is the eve of the big move. Tomorrow we fly to Seattle to pack up my possessions – mostly paintings, a rocking chair, and art supplies – and drive east. After months of wandering, paring down and letting go of all things familiar, I am creating a new home.

Many months ago, on December 31, the eve of 2013 with my life freshly exploded, a tarot reader told me that being by the water was essential for me and that I should at all cost stay by the water. I wouldn’t normally invest too much in the specifics of a card reading except that this particular reader has been frighteningly accurate. She told me with startling precision the details of what would happen to me (and for me) throughout the spring and summer. It’s as if I am living through the notes that I took from the session. I laughed when I knew in my guts that it was time to move and I realized that my move would take me from the Puget Sound to another powerful body of water.

I have felt for many months that the universe sent its border collie to herd me to a new pasture. I’ve been making choices but my choices seem guided or predetermined. It’s as if I am seeing a GPS map with a bright green line that shows me the path. The voice in my head is clear “In 300 feet, turn right…. Turn right.” And I do. A few instances early on I turned off the highlighted path, saying to myself, “This can’t be right! It can’t be this way!” And each time my metaphoric car broke down. I heard, “Recalculating,” and, when I listened, I was guided back on course.

In the past several years I have often used the word, “surrender” and keep thinking that I know what that word means – and I learn again and again that it has more layers than an onion and I am only beginning to grasp the depth of its meaning. To give over does not mean to live without intention. To let go does not mean to relinquish responsibility for choices. To surrender requires a destination in mind; it’s a paradox. It means to be a wayfinder, to listen to the ocean of life, read the fingerprint of the waves, hold the destination in mind, and call the island to you. It means that obstacles and deviations are necessary and never what they seem to be. Sometimes what looks like an obstacle is really a palette of choices or a regulator of time: you might get to the crossroads too soon and the universe needs to slow you down. It means to understand that life is a long-body of phases and not about fixes or arrivals or outcomes. In this sense, surrender, listening and presence are really the same thing.

For a humorous look at the wonderful world of innovation and new ventures, check out my new comic strip Fl!p and the gang at Fl!p Comics.

Practice

It has been the perfect autumn day: warm sun and a drive along the shore. The trees are just beginning to turn. Autumn days demand a slower pace. They inspire reflection and quiet. I’m giving great slices of time to staring into space. I am not asking any deep or life altering questions. I’m listening. I’m closing my eyes and feeling the sun on my face.

Yesterday we stopped work early and walked north on the beach. The lake was quiet. It is listening, too. We found two adirondack chairs and sat with our feet up on a log and talked about writing songs and ideas for paintings. We talked about spiritual practices and meditation. We talked about new beginnings and tying up loose ends.

Art has always been a spiritual practice for me. When I was younger it was my route to inner quiet. While the rest of my life might be a cacophony of mind noise, the moment I picked up my brushes I grew quiet. I became present. As I have been learning to make all-the-world my studio – and consciously making every action of my life the same as picking up my brushes – I’ve grown to understand that every action I take is really a spiritual practice. How I do what I do, being as present as possible in all of my life’s moments, is a practice.

Not only are all actions a form of spiritual practice, but all places are sacred places. The idea of separation -being in church or out of church – is an illusion. It’s a recognition. If we are to walk a sacred path then we are never off the path. Here’s another cliché that is mostly true: It is the in little routines and small moments of life where the riches are found. Sitting on the shores of Lake Michigan in an adirondack chair, talking about art with Kerri, the autumn sun on my face, the waves lolling in – what could be more sensual, sacred, eternal and passing?

Dance With Grace

Chris wrote to me of Grace. His words were beautiful and I have been meditating on them these past few days. Chris has that way with me. We used to take long walks or sit in cafes late at night after rehearsal and talk about god, faith and spirituality. Chris is solid in his faith and is among the few people in my life who has deeply challenged and informed my personal path through the forests of belief and disbelief in the divine. He gets me thinking. Better, he helps me listen to the deep rivers within me.

Grace has many definitions but the one that is percolating within me is Grace as a gift of the divine to humankind. Another definition is the generosity of spirit. And aren’t these two definitions remarkably similar? Here’s the phrase from Chris that most struck me:

Unless, we experience in human form what undeserved, unmerited Love looks like, we will always be skeptical or confused about what Grace even means.

Isn’t that lovely? He is writing about Grace as a gift of love freely given from one person to another; no strings attached. He implies that love is what happens between us and what happens between us is divine. This is Grace.

This morning Skip told me of a book called The Gift. The author offers different understandings of what it means to give a gift. In some cultures a gift is something experienced and then passed on – receiving a gift comes with the expectation of giving it. The value of the gift is in the giving of it, not the possessing of it. It is to understand “gift” as a verb, an ongoing action. From this point of view, it is impossible to separate the gift from the giver. If love is the gift freely given, love is also the giver. And, it follows: to receive love freely given is to become love. The giver and the receiver unite in an ongoing dance called “life.” This love dance is Grace.

Each of us has unique gift to offer the world and all too often withhold our gift or hide it or fear it. We ask, “What if I’m not good enough…?” What if the generosity you seek from the world would become available the moment you became generous with offering your gift? What if the real value of your gift was in the giving of it. What would your life look like if your gift was freely given? Isn’t that what we strive to do: fully express without inhibition or expectation our gift to the world? Isn’t that what we call “fulfillment?” Isn’t this freedom? Isn’t this cycle of giving freely and receiving freely and giving…, the generosity of spirit? Isn’t that Grace?

For a humorous look at the wonderful world of innovation and new ventures, check out my new comic strip Fl!p and the gang at Fl!p Comics.

Hold A Boundary. Make A Choice.

I had an extraordinary conversation yesterday about the benefits of having and holding personal boundaries. On the surface that sounds like a no-brainer until you consider that the epicenter of pain for most of my clients, personal, educational, corporate and otherwise, is the inability to hold a boundary. In most cases, people know that they are frustrated or in pain but do not recognize that they’re in turmoil because they are giving the farm away. They are hurting because others are stomping on their sacred ground.

My clients are my heroes because, once they recognize that they need clear boundaries, they do the hard work of establishing and maintaining their borders. They stop allowing others to step on them. And then an amazing thing happens. They become powerful. Not the power-over kind of power (that is not power, that is control), but the deep inner force kind of powerful. They “own” themselves. They stop assigning responsibility for their happiness to other people and because they lift themselves from the victim role, they become creators of their lives. This, too, probably sounds like a no-brainer. It is easy to articulate but in most cases not so easy to do. I often say (and write) this phrase and it applies here: the actions you need to take are usually simple – it is the story you wrap around the actions that make things hard. Establishing and holding a boundary is simple. What reason do you give yourself for allowing others to step in your sacred ground? What reason do you give yourself for withholding your voice? What conflict do you think you are avoiding with your silence? The answer to these questions is the story you are telling and it is the story that makes things hard.

There is an equation in boundary creation that is simple and leads directly to the capacity to create. It follows a very specific pattern and goes something like this: 1) drawing and maintaining boundaries allows you to see the choices that you make. Without boundaries it is hard to see how you participate in your pain; it is hard to recognize your choices when your choices allow others to violate your space. 2) With boundaries you see your choices. You start to make conscious choices. Owning your choices brings a magical realization: your choices are, in fact, creating your life. 3) Once you understand that you are making choices every moment of your life, once you see that you are assigning the meaning to your world, you are capable of seeing how you actively create your world. Owning your choices, recognizing your power to give meaning, necessarily leads to the real power center revelation: you are a creator. You are the creator of your happiness and your world.

If I were a mathematician, I’s scribble it on my chalkboard like this:

Boundaries x Choice = Creator

[912. Join me in inspiring truly powerful people. Each day I will add a new thought, story or idea to support your quest and mine.]

For a humorous look at the wonderful world of innovation and new ventures, check out my new comic strip Fl!p and the gang at Fl!p Comics.