Doing what you want

Even today, there’s so much griping about the opportunities we don’t get, the hierarchy and the job titles and all that nonsense.

Here’s an idea – why not be so darn valuable that you can write your own ticket?  Take whatever they’re asking you to do, double that, and do it without breaking a sweat.  And on top of that, do what you want.

It’s true, this isn’t a shortcut. If anything it’s a “long cut.”

No one said you’d get there without working really hard.  And at the end of all this you’re exactly where you want to be, which is way better than complaining about all that cool stuff they’re not letting you do.

The list makes no sense without you

Try this: write down everything you currently do in your job.  Make a good, clear list with step-by-step instructions.  Imagine someone’s really going to read and use and follow this document.

Could they do it?  Could they follow all the steps and do what you do?

I hope not.

What you have to offer is so much more than a list.  We don’t need you to accomplish specified tasks that can be boiled down so succinctly.

We need the list to make no sense without you, because you are the one who makes things happen, who anticipates and makes things more joyful and surprising and unexpected for your customers and your co-workers.

We need the list to make no sense without you, because you naturally coach and mentor and advise and counsel people around you.

We need the list to make no sense without you, because even if some of the tasks seem small or less grandiose than you’d like them to be (right now), you do them with such relish, conviction, and quality that it always ends up being more than the sum of its parts.

We need the list to make no sense without you, because you are doing emotional work that has meaning and spirit and soul, and there’s no handbook for that.

Confidence and Abilities

A woman I’ve gotten to know has had one of the most incredible professional trajectories I’ve ever had the pleasure to witness.  In six years she’s gone from an off-the-street volunteer/intern into a key player in a global organization.  It’s not just that her job title or her responsibilities have changed – she is a fundamentally different person (or, more accurately, she’s taken huge strides towards becoming the person she’s meant to be and who the world needs her to be).  Amazingly, the organization she works for has been able to keep up with her trajectory and give her bigger, more challenging roles.

When we talk about her career and her life, we keep coming back to the fact that one of her biggest challenges is having her confidence keep pace with her abilities.  While the people around her realize who she’s become, realize what a linchpin she is for her organization, at times the echoes of her former self, her former self-image, her former limitations, all reverberate, if only for her.

For a while I thought that this reflection was just for her, because most people don’t transform as quickly as she does.

But of course it is for all of us.

Most of us carry the mantle of our former selves – the intern we were, the person with the entry-level job clamoring for attention, with all those perceived limitations holding us back.

Worse, we make the mistake of spending time and energy clamoring for that bigger job, the new job title and formal responsibilities, energy that could instead be spent on actually doing bigger, better, more audacious things.  And we get even more confused when our asking for more actually gets us more, reinforcing the specious notion that real authority, ability, and voice come from anywhere but inside of us.

 

I disagree

Each time someone says that to me (emails it to me, comments it to me), my first reaction is to be a little surprised and, if I’m really honest, just a tiny bit hurt. (“I can’t believe someone unsubscribed from my blog!” or “Really, they didn’t find that David Brooks piece compelling?!”)

But then I remind myself: if no one’s vehemently disagreeing, then no one’s vehemently agreeing.

“Vehement” is the point.

Conversations are the point.

I’m not advocating for being controversial just for its own sake, but do have something to say and say it….if you do that, some people will beg to differ.

And that’s more than OK, it’s great.

Pushing, prodding, exploring, tripping, falling, and getting up again…that’s what it’s all about.  Otherwise, you’re just standing there, not doing much of anything.

It finally happened

Cranking through my inbox for a few hours doesn’t feel like real work.

Satisfying? Yes.

A relief?  Yes.

But not real work.

Pretty sure this is a good sign.

Which conversation – addendum

I’ve heard from a few readers that yesterday’s post – Which Conversation – was a little opaque.  So here’s take 2:

There are two models of how you build yourself up professionally, how you grow your visibility and responsibility.

The first model says that you do what’s asked of you, (over) deliver, and then ask for/be given more responsibility. That’s the school version of life – do your homework, get good grades, advance to the next class.

What I was getting at is that you’re holding yourself back if you always ask for permission.

Why not be indispensable instead? Go ahead and DO all those things that seem like the next step, the thing you’d like to do next year or someday.  If you do that well, if you’re already delivering like crazy AND handling a bunch of other important stretch opportunities, then you’re no longer going to your boss asking for permission, you’re going to her with a full list of things that you’re already doing and just asking her to formalize your role in whatever way will confer the official authority you’re looking for (but may not even need).

Of course this requires you to figure out a way to nail your current responsibilities and to make time and space for all the new stuff.  It forces you to think hard, confront your fears, do things without formal authority or blessing from above.  It forces you to do real work.

If you’re up for it, then you’ll find yourself having a very different conversation with your boss a year from now:

1. School version: “I did well. Is it OK if I do these new things next year?”

2. Indispensable version: “Here’s everything I’m doing, all the ways I’m going above and beyond.  Anything I should stop doing?  If not, at some point we should formally acknowledge that I’m doing a lot more than the job I was doing before.”

Hope that’s more clear.

Which conversation

I bet you had a great year last year.  You hit your goals and then some.  You checked all the boxes and now you’re thinking about the coming year and ways you’d like to grow as a professional.

Which conversation do you want to have with your boss?

One version goes like this: Hey, boss, great to see you.  I’ve been thinking that since I delivered so much last year that I’d like to take on these new projects and be given such-and-such new responsibilities and this new job title.

It might work, but wouldn’t you rather have this conversation?

Hey boss, not only did I ship like crazy last year, but as you know I also was leading up these projects, I’ve been taking responsibility for these relationships and these other initiatives that are underway, and I’m also the point person for this big idea that’s going live in March and it’s going great.

So, boss, which one of these things would you like me to stop doing?

Your choice.

Really, it’s up to you.

Do Linchpins have Checklists?

Atul Gawande has convinced me that checklists are way more powerful than I’d ever realized.  I picked up The Checklist Manifesto because I love Gawande’s writing and I’m fascinated by ways to improve the practice of medicine.  While I wanted to learn more about improving surgical outcomes, I never expected that in so doing I’d learn why buildings don’t fall down, why planes are a safer way to travel than cars, and how some of the most successful VC firms beat their competitors: you guessed it, they all use of checklists.

Guwande leads with a deep look at the building trade, which used to rely on master builders who ran the show, until that stopped working.   What it takes to put up a building got too complex for any one person to handle in an improvisational way, and so the “master builder” model gave way to intensive use of checklists: checklists that describe who does what, the steps to follow, and, most importantly, how the groups interact with each other.  The parallel is to modern surgery which, until recently, has been dominated by the surgeon as “master builder;” Guwande’s compelling argument is that modern medicine, with all of its sub- sub- specialties and technology, has become so complex that this “master builder” mindset is hopelessly outdated.

As I’ve been digesting this, I’ve been trying to reconcile it with the idea – which I believe on a deep level – that to thrive in the modern economy and to be a happy and fulfilled person, what the world is asking of all of us is that we be linchpins, that we create our art and do the work that no one else can do.  And then the question arises: where are checklists in this picture?

And then it hit me that the point of intersection between checklists and linchpins grows out of the recognition that the most successful checklists define both the steps to take in a given situation AND the norms and expectations for how people are going to interact.  For example, something as simple as members of a surgical team introducing themselves to one another by name before the start of surgery, Gawande found, has a significant positive impact on surgical outcomes: people on the surgical team (nurses especially) are more likely to speak up when a step is skipped or a mistake is made if everyone knows each others’ names.

Last week at NextGen:Charity Seth Godin said that only the perfect problems are left today – because all the imperfect ones have already been solved.  What a great rallying cry!  As our teams get more virtual and more loosely connected, as roles begin to blend and the edges around our roles and responsibilities get softer, the answer Guwande points us towards is not to create a process for everything, to think that there’s a series of all-encompassing steps that will foresee each new situation and how we interact with it.   Instead, the onus is on us to increase our comfort with that place of uncertainty by defining two things: the steps we’re going to take in situations in which the steps can be defined; and how we’re going to interact with each other all of the time.

So it’s not about constantly improvising outside of all norms and best practices; nor about thinking that everything will go right if we can just systematize the process.  It’s about our orientation towards the world, and the knowledge that we can optimize how we solve the imperfect problems and, in so doing, free up the space in our minds and our lives so we can practice our art – and tackle the remaining, perfect problems.

Willing and able

I had a professor once, a big fan of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, who was emphatic about the limits of didactic learning.

“Try to learn how to farm from a book,” he’d say, “and you’ll discover when it’s better to learn from experience.”

It’s true, one cannot learn ANYTHING from a book (or from the web, or through online courses, etc.), but the number of things that you’re ABLE to self-teach is growing exponentially.

(I know you agree on some level, but to get this viscerally check out the Kahn Academy’s videos that explain EBITDA, the law of large numbers, 3-variable linear equations, or the Geithner plan.  This was built by one guy in his spare time.)

The pace of progress is hard to process, but I can’t help but notice, gathering dust on my bookshelf, a 15-year-old copy of German in 10 Minutes a Day, whose text exhorted me, unsuccessfully, to say “eeech seeche minuh koffer” (“I’m looking for my luggage,” in useless phonetics).  I threw in the towel after Lesson One because this was no way to learn a language – me alone with a book, sounding things out.

But if I wanted to try again, today, I could go online and have interactive, audio learning, repetition, playback that taps into the parts of my brain I need to activate to learn to communicate.  The excuse that I couldn’t learn German without going to Germany used to be true, and it isn’t any more  (and the same logic applies to understanding balance sheets and cashflow statements, DCF valuations, C++; Ruby on Rails; PhotoShop….you name it.  That means that the reason I don’t have a good working knowledge of everything on that list is because I choose not to).

If you’ve already gone to school, to college, through graduate school under the old system, getting your head around the new system requires a drastic rerientation.  The first thing to understand is that the barrier, for most of us, has silently shifted from what we’re able to learn to what we’re willing to learn.

Two conclusions:

  1. The value of deciding, of initiating, of self-directed action keeps on going up – because we have so much more leverage for each thing we decide to learn
  2. The value of things that only YOU can share and teach, things that someone cannot learn by themselves, has gone UP  – and your ability to share these things with everyone for free has gone up as well.  (And that’s a lot to wrap your head around too – a post for another day).

add to del.icio.us : Add to Blinkslist : add to furl : Digg it : add to ma.gnolia : Stumble It! : add to simpy : seed the vine : : : TailRank : post to facebook

Work like a freelancer

Twice in the last 24 hours I’ve come across two glimpses into the life of the freelancer / writer that struck a chord.  Chris Guillebeau, who is the author of an inspiring and useful manifesto called 279 Days to Overnight Success also sends out a weekly newsletter called “The Art of Nonconformity [AONC].”  From his last newsletter, about the life of a freelancer:

It’s always fun to go on vacation as a self-employed person because a) you still have to work, and b) no one thinks you do any work to begin with.  So then when you go on vacation they say, oh, must be nice that you don’t have a job and can do that.  Meanwhile on vacation I work six hours a day instead of ten.

And then I came across this passage in Anne Lamott’s “Bird by Bird, Some Instructions on Writing and Life”:

Every morning, no matter how late he had been up, my father rose at 5:30, went to his study, wrote for a couple of hours, made us all breakfast, read the paper with my mother, and then went back to work for the rest of the morning.  Many years passed before I realized that he did this by choice, for a living, and that he was not unemployed or mentally ill.  I wanted him to have a regular job where he put on a necktie and went off somewhere with the other fathers and sat in a little office and smoked.  But the idea of spending entire days doing someone else’s work did not suit my father’s soul.  I think it would have killed him.  He did end up dying rather early, in his mid-fifties, but at least he had lived on his own terms.

And my reflection is this: life, especially professional life, is becoming much more like freelancing.  The most important decisions we make every day – even if we have “regular jobs” – are how to spend our time, defining what success looks like for ourselves and for our customers, and figuring out who our customers are and how best to serve them.  This is where we all have the most leverage, and it’s a shift that’s happened in this last decade as markets have fragmented, costs of production have plummeted, and networks have become ubiquitous.  And it means that we all are, to a greater or lesser extent, a lot more like freelancers than ever before – and if we’re not acting and thinking like freelancers we’re missing an opportunity.

It’s easy to romanticize the life of a writer or a freelancer – in reality, as Chris reminds us, it’s hard and uncertain because you have to have the discipline to decide how to spend your time and to create the structure you need to produce your work (your art).

But what’s deceptive about “regular jobs” is that it’s incredibly easy to fool yourself into thinking that these aren’t your choices to make – because you have a full inbox and lots of meetings to go to and a boss telling you what you have to get done and when.

The moment you start looking at the 24 hours in your day and how you’re going to spend them, the moment you open the door to the possibility that you could wake up at 5:30am to do what you do best – whether blogging or writing or learning a new craft (or programming language or computer software or foreign language), or just going above and beyond for the job that you already do and love – is the moment you open the door to real possibility.

add to del.icio.us : Add to Blinkslist : add to furl : Digg it : add to ma.gnolia : Stumble It! : add to simpy : seed the vine : : : TailRank : post to facebook