I am curious when I encounter a man-made feature that’s current function seems less obvious. What was the opportunity that somebody recognized before the structure was built? Where did the idea originate? What went into the design? How was it constructed? When was it completed? How did it operate during its lifespan? Why does it remain?
When we build our real-time structures, how might we leave clues for those that follow? How might we leave sufficient insights to orient those who encounter it later can understand the context of our creation? How might we set others up for success?
How might we get the right amount of exposure to capture both the focal point and the background? It is often the elements that are not in focus that make the image remarkable.
I recently toured the Whyte Museum of the Canadian Rockies and the exhibit of photographer John E. Marriott. I found his wildlife images to be striking. His ability to use the camera as a vehicle to transport, to engage, humor, and amaze is uncanny. The photographic story he tells is more complex that putting wildlife in the center of the frame. There is a tension, emotion, complexity, and depth to each print. How might we add a similar amount of care to our art? How might we not mistake exposure for connection?
When I first encountered this sign I missed the arrow for Vaca Ranch and assumed every outfit was to the right. It seemed obvious that the main course of travel went right. Among the noise and clutter, it is hard to stand out, despite taking the road less traveled. Just because we are on different route than the rest, does not mean those seeking us will be successful in navigating to our location.
In attempt to appear frugal and lean with our resources, we quickly fill a liminal space. Our fans and interested parties cannot tell if we are open for business and functioning with remarkable impact, or if we have shuttered our services as a victims of thriving inspiration blocked by insufficient fuel for the journey. How might we balance stewardship with responsible investment in the people and tools that matter? How might we work effectively without appearing to putting our own needs before those we serve?
When we view an image, what assumptions do we make? What mindset do we assume? Does it alter our mood and influence our emotions? Is there a standard narrative that comes to mind? Do we experience FOMO (fear of missing out) or JOMO (joy of missing out)?
Do we select certain images to inspire or create fear? Are we hoping our tribe will activate, take action, become more aware, or lend their social influence?
What assumptions are we making when we curate the message? What assumptions our our fans making about the stories we share? How much is based on trust and how much is the work of creative editing?
Is there a symbol for your enterprise that captures what you stand for? Is it a logo, a person, a word, a program, an event, an image, a collage? What do you believe it represents? What do your fans believe it stands for? What is an outsider’s impression?
Not your confidence. The confidence of those who believe in you. The people who believe you are worth their loyalty and support. Those that cheer for you and risk their social capitol to recommend your services to others.
What if confidence is broken? What if it falls apart? This is not about disappointment but a break in trust. If we are designing what is essential to our work, the confidence of those we intend to serve is at the very center.
Is there a difference between working on versus working towards? Working on feels like I am engaged in the work that matters. Working towards provides a sense that there is ground between me and the work that matters.
Is it similar to a river viewed in different seasons? We are working on the river when it is flowing. We are working towards when we travel on its frozen surface.
Both journeys matter but the terrain we have to navigate is different.
Damming the Columbia River solved a number of problems. It reduced seasonal flooding, allowed agriculture to prosper, generated hydroelectric power, and was a catalyst for local communities to prosper. It also created problems. The dams altered the ecosystem and hydrology of a major watershed, it introduced crops that might not have propsered, obstructed salmon and sturgeon from returning to their breeding grounds without human intervention, and generated inexpensive electricity which delayed investments in other forms of sustainable energy.
Some would classify the Columbia River Dams as one of the great engineering and economic successes of the Twentieth Century in the United States. Others might define the complex as one of the most significant environmental disasters created by humankind.Politicians, citizens, environmental groups, and government agencies are still debating the merits and fate of the dams.
I might be helpful to frame our problem-solving with the mindset that we are both solving and creating in the same act. We should not stop aspiring to be a force for good but we might benefit from recognizing our solution will be somebody else’s obstacle.