When is a piece of infrastructure more than its utilitarian function? When do we deem a structure to be remarkable or notable? Tower Bridge in London is one of many bridges on the River Thames. It is not the only one with history, royal initials, and adjoining key landmarks. Yet, this bridge is viewed more as an iconic part of the city than a functional crossing over water.
What, if any, parts of your organization achieve ‘more than’ status?
What is the difference between being an icon and being famous? Today, I saw a YouTube star while I was visiting a museum. The YouTuber has interviewed some of the most popular athletes and celebrities. I would consider them famous. A short walk from the art institute, I saw a mural of William Shakespeare. I would suggest that he is famous and iconic.
What is your definition of the two terms? What does the Venn diagram look like if we mapped out the two terms?
Minding the obstacle may be a full-time or periodic process. How do we set people up for success when it is needed most?
If you make everything “important,” it is challenging for the essential information to reach your target. As a listener, it takes a lot of energy to absorb too many communications that are all prioritized the same.
"Something hidden. Go and find it. Go and look behind the Ranges -
"Something lost behind the Ranges. Lost and waiting for you. Go!" -Rudyard Kipling
What gets you seeking? What keeps your adventure going?
Seeing a Coors can flattened in the dirt on the side of a 4-wheel dirt road is an iconic signature of the American West. It can easily be defined as trash and littering, but for some, it is confirmation that they exist in a location that represents their values. Coors has branded itself as coming from the heart of the Rocky Mountains; seeing a Coors can is evidence.
Not all iconic moments represent our best work. They do tend to rhyme with our values and beliefs.
When we share a Magnetic North (purpose, vision, mission, and values), it is easier to decide on behalf of the group if we arrive at an intersection first. If we are unclear about our compass, we will likely wait for the group to assemble before proceeding. If we consider generative questions when our environment is stable, we get clarity on where the boundaries exist for our team. We can forerun future events if we deliberate about unique situations our peers encounter. A culture of curiosity allows us to focus on the work that matters and guides our reaction when we find ourselves lost in the wilderness.
We cannot always be together, call a meeting, or wait for an answer. Periodically, we must act for the whole. A sense of shared purpose and a calibrated compass enables us to navigate, even in unfamiliar terrain.
Speed changes our sense of scale. Flying in a commercial aircraft over the landscape at 30,000 feet, we can take a peak out the window, then sip on a drink for fifteen minutes, and upon looking out the window again, the geography changes. However, shouldering a backpack and tugging on hiking boots, traversing the terrain becomes a colossal undertaking, perhaps taking weeks to cover.
How might we recognize that the speed at which we move changes the sense of scale? How might we account for the delta between a road trip on an interstate and a thru-hiker on the Continental Divide Trail? How might we understand the scale facing those that we serve?
I received a webinar invite focused on incorporating well-being into the corporate workplace. It made me realize that one of the social sector’s best attributes is prioritizing the well-being of those it serves, and that mindset reverberates in the workplace. There are numerous upgrades that social sector team members might yet experience, but the advantage of being attuned to the well-being of others is it sets the intention. A powerful platform from which to build a more dynamic ecosystem.
How might we match the level of empathy and care for those we serve in our workplace?
What commitment have you made that generated a nervous feeling? Was it the uncertainty, the scale of the endeavor, the unknown result, the inability to de-commit?
Feeling nervous can be viewed as a privilege in some situations. We put ourselves on the starting line of a race by choice. However, it can also be generated by external forces, a deadline, a demand placed on us, or unfortunate circumstances. Nervousness heightens our senses, and we must react. We might feel isolated, as if on an island with insufficient space to gather resources and respond. Our mindset could be our most significant advantage or disadvantage at this moment. How we frame nervousness has a profound impact on how we act? Seeing a competition as a celebration of all the training we endured has a different feel than seeing a race as an event filled with moments of possible failure.
How might we embrace the privilege of nervousness (when appropriate) and celebrate the opportunity to act? How might we recognize that we may not always have the chance to feel nervous and this is a unique moment?
What-if-concepts 