What is your power source? Does it rely on pure power, or do you benefit from additional forces such as aerodynamics and physics? How might we ensure we are not wasting power by generating massive outputs but increasing drag by forgetting to put appropriate pressure in our tires?
How might we strategically deploy our power to do the work that matters?
Just because you have a key, it may not be the right one for the vehicle you are trying to start. If you have a template/framework/idea/donor/board member/network from another cause does not mean it will work for your current enterprise. The right key and the right vehicle are essential to initiate your journey. Just as the right resource must match the culture and needs of the organization you intend to serve.
What happens when your proprietorial work makes it into the public domain? What is the impact of others iterating on your creation? How does it align with your values and focus? If you believe in making the world a better place, does it matter who gets the credit? If you believe in delivering for your shareholders (or donors), is it essential that you generate a metric that shows a return on investment? What if your idea is leaked to the sector, and it is the spark that generates an unexplored way of serving those that you are committed to helping? Do you need credit, or does moving closer to your vision suffice?
We will not know there is no more time until we cross some imagined or real threshold. Until then, the anxiety and panic of these alarming pronouncements claiming we are out of time feel insufficient (and liminal). How might we raise awareness and create pathways to change, informed by a limitation of duration but not stating we passed the endpoint? If we miss the last train/plane/bus, there is little we can do but wait in place (and perhaps sulk). If there are options to rejoin our journey, we should make those opportunities visible. Distracting the team by activating the alarm system creates distraction; we focus on evacuation when alarms sound instead of addressing the problem.
There are circumstances in which a local expert delivers an invaluable service and possesses the required resources to ensure we arrive safely. How might we invest in local experts when the conditions (and risk assessment) benefit our work and allow us to traverse the high-exposure terrain?
What did you glance at that was exceptional, but you were unable to witness (or capture) the entirety of the event? A shooting star? A retreating grizzly bear? The first moments of an unforgettable keynote? An iconic board member who is finishing their term just as you start your service? A glimpse of the impact bestowed by the first year of a transformational grant?
Glances are helpful since they furnish a picture of what is possible. They may not be sustainable or ordinary, but they set the conditions for developing a vision for the future. How might we use glances to inform our current and future efforts? How might a glance be the beacon to which we orient?
What is the inflection point between hoarding and securing additional resources? In the social sector, this tension plays out when an organization with a significant endowment requests funding for distinct initiatives. For example, a summer camp requiring deferred maintenance of its facilities may be questioned about the criteria for deploying the endowment for the upkeep and maintenance of the facility versus seeking new contributions.
How might we be prepared to communicate with our supporters when we are building up caches to provide fuel for our journey and when we are stocking a storage room for a pandemic we hope never occurs? Knowing how we intend to deploy resources may differentiate a donor’s perception between contribution and aggressive panhandling.
A tugboat is not useful for the majority of a transatlantic crossing. However, it is a crucial tool to pilot a large cruise ship from the departure port and upon arrival at the destination port. Tugboats are uniquely positioned to ensure successful voyages. We do not disparage the value of a tug boat when it returns to the harbor once the cruiseliner reaches the breakwater and open seas. The confined and complex waters of a busy port require a specialist, and the tugboat is the ‘offensive lineman’ of the harbor. Working in close proximity to others and rarely receiving the spotlight unless something goes wrong.
How might we maximize our usefulness without fretting about the portion of the journey we are not equipped to support?
We project reflections to those we serve. Despite our original narrative and authenticate approach, the process of interpreting us is left to the receiver, who must decode numerous cues and subtle outputs. No matter how vast, rapid, versatile, gritty, dedicated, inspired, generous, or empathetic our intentions, they must be converted into the base language of the recipient.
How might we remain curious about the impact of our superpowers? We may think we are saving the village nestled in the mountain valley by removing the giant balance rock perched precariously on top of the cliff, but perhaps that boulder was the iconic centerpiece of the town’s identity and folklore.
How might we consider, ‘What else can this represent’ before reacting to our reflection?
What makes for a celebration? Goal reached? Duration of commitment to a cause? Serendipity? Historical reverence? Gratitude for current conditions, such as freedoms and liberty?
What do you celebrate? Why do you take time to focus your intention on a specific moment/event? Is the celebration for you or to recognize others?
What-if-concepts 