20-80-100 and Adjacent Possibility

Katya and I were comparing notes last week about our blogs and the experience of blogging.

One of the biggest impacts blogging has had on me is that it forces me to develop thoughts that would normally remain 20% developed (in the form of casual observation) and form them into blog posts, which are about 80% fleshed out.  (Katya and I both agreed that we’d leave the 100% development of ideas to professional journalists like Ellen McGirt at Fast Company…there’s something nice about the leeway blogging gives you not to be perfect, and in fact I think it’s just this leeway that gives space for creativity.)

Think about the impact, over years, of systematically taking ideas that are partially developed and developing them fully.  Think about what you learn over time, both at the level of the individual idea – because the act of writing takes you places you didn’t know you’d go – and over time, from repeating this action every day.

I’ve been reading Steven Johnson’s Where Good Ideas Come From – I’ll review it fully when I’m finished, as it’s one of the most interesting books I’ve read this year.  The foundational idea in the book is that great ideas are formed in the “adjacent possible” space, the space that’s right at the edge of understanding of a particular problem you’re working to solve.  Breakthrough insights typically come from the reassembly and reconfiguration of existing ideas that are right at the edge of what you know and what you don’t know.

This feels 100% right to me.  Generosity Day, for example, grew out of my Generosity Experiment more than a year ago, coupled with the experience of helping create Search for the Obvious at Acumen Fund (really the brainchild of James Wu), along with the ongoing hunch I’d carried around for 14 months (and explored occasionally in other blog posts) that there was something bigger that could and should come of my personal exploration of generosity.  Generosity Day was sitting in my adjacent possible space, and it took the panel at Social Media Week and the ensuing discussion with the other panelists to crystallize the “aha!” moment – that we were three days away from Generosity Day 2011, we just didn’t know it.

And if that’s right, then what serious bloggers do every day is expand – inch by inch, bit by bit – their own space of adjacent possibility.

Keep up with the Acumen Fund Fellows

The Class of 2011 Acumen Fund Fellows are an incredible group of people working with our investees around the world.

This year’s class has enthusiastically taken on blogging – it’s a great chance to see what they’re up to and get a glimpse of the front lines in this hard, important work.

Their blogs are here:

  • Benje Williams (The Fragments that Remain) is working at Pharmagen, providing low-cost water, in Lahore, Pakistan
  • Khuram Hussain (The Healthy Archer) is working with Ecotact in Nairobi, Kenya to help make sanitation sexy.
  • Bavidra Mohan (Imagine Something Different) is working in Shenzen, China with D.Light, which manufactures and sells solar lights to replace kerosene
  • Mario Ferro (Imagine there is no…) is spending the year with Husk Power in Bihar, India, helping get affordable power to remote villages
  • Shane Heywood is in Kitale, Kenya, helping Western Seeds get high-yield hybrid maize to smallholder farmers
  • Brenda Williams (GlobalLink Consulting) is in Hyderabad, India, helping get safe, affordable water to Indian villages
  • Wendy Wallace (Adventures of Wendy) is working with Lifespring Hospitals helping bring high-quality, low-cost maternal care to thousands (and we hope eventually, millions)
  • Chika Fujita (Feel the Wind, Live Like the Wind) is in Mumbai, India, supporting the growth of the Dial 1298 ambulance service across India
  • Bryan Farris (Rising Pyramid) is in Lahore, Pakistan, helping Ansaar Management Company expand the only for-profit housing development for the poor in Pakistan

These Fellows all have incredible stories to share, and I know from experience that the more people that follow their stories, the more their stories will be shared.  Jump in, and happy reading.

Here’s a video of these Fellows from last month, the day before they left New York.

For you, for me

For some folks, the fact that I blog is a semi-mysterious black box of cool, kind of like talking with a great English accent (if I had one). It is something people kinda sorta want to do before they talk themselves off the ledge instead of leaping.

When they ask me about it, here’s what I say: that I had no idea what I was getting into when I started; that it’s been harder and better than I expected; that I learn from every post that I write and from the things I hear back from folks; and that I’m absolutely positively sure that I would stop doing it if I didn’t have lots readers out there reading.

There are tons of great external things that come from blogging but what I get from it each and every day – even (especially?) on the days it’s hard – is already plenty of payback.

Each person reading is part of what makes this possible, part of what allows me to bring something into your day and mine.

So thank you, because I write for you but I also write for me.

And, with that in mind, what about you? Why not make today the day you leap into that thing you’ve been thinking about doing? Why not get up and spread the word about something that you love?

Whatever it is you’re thinking of doing, do it already.

The work of blogging

The days I’m not ready to write, the days I don’t feel like I have something to say, the days that I have to burn the midnight oil, the days I have to scramble….those are the days I’m doing the work.

What is the work, exactly?  Many things, but partly it is earning the right to have the days when lightening strikes, the days full of great leaps forward, the days it comes easy.

This is how it is with everything: we do the hard work in between the peaks, we toil along, even when it isn’t pretty.  And when we get to the top, the view sure is beautiful, all the more so when you can share it with people that matter (all of you)

So thank you for helping me do the work.  I’m positive I wouldn’t do it without you.

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Blogging meta-post

On the days I don’t write posts, it seems just about impossible that I have a post in me.

On the days that I do write posts, I write them.

This means one of two things:

  1. I underestimate what is possible
  2. I accomplish the impossible on a regular basis

Pretty sure both of those are true.

(mind-bending side note: I wrote this post on a day I never write posts.  What does that mean?)

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The only blogging advice I have ever taken

There’s a lot of advice out there for how to be a successful blogger, and most of it feels like it either should be ignored or needs to be taken for what it is – advice on how to game the system.

The reason I don’t take most of it seriously is because blogging to me doesn’t fall into some mysterious online category that has a slew of opaque rules only discernible by Web 2.0 (3.0? 4.0?) gurus with massive Twinfluence.

Instead, it’s just another way of delivering relevant, engaging content to readers.

Which is why I’m much more interested in turning to a writer for advice here.

This from the closing of Anne Lamott’s Bird by Bird is worth printing out and pinning to the wall:

If something inside you is real, we will probably find it interesting, and it will probably be universal.  So you must risk placing real emotion at the center of your work.  Write straight into the emotional center of things.  Write toward vulnerability.  Don’t worry about appearing sentimental.  Worry about being unavailable; worry about being absent or fraudulent.  Risk being unliked.  Tell the truth as you understand it.  If you’re a writer, you have a moral obligation to do this.  And it is a revolutionary act – truth is always subversive.

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Questions and answers

A close friend and loyal reader of this blog has asked me a question enough times that I thought I’d share it and take a stab at an answer:

“A number of your posts have questions without any answers, and you sometimes pose these to your readers as if THEY should have the answers.”

Implicit in the (paraphrased) question:

  1. Your job, Sasha, is to give or find answers for your readers
  2. If you don’t know the answers, how do you expect that your readers will?

Fair enough.

So here’s how I think about it.  When I started blogging a year and a half ago, I had no idea what I was getting in to or how big a step I was taking.   What does it take consistently to develop observations/thoughts/insights/questions and making them sharp enough that they’re worth sharing? This is the gift from readers to the blogs they follow, because without readers what you’d have is a journal (something I’m sure I would have abandoned long ago).   Without the audience, the thoughts won’t get completed; the ideas would lie there, undeveloped and fallow.  This is one of the many reasons I’m thankful to all of you for reading and for spreading the word.

Thank you.

The big unanswered question before you start blogging is: what’s “good enough” for a blog post?  At the outset, you can share all the totally-unique-this-one’s-really-important thoughts you’ve been storing up for a while.  But then you run out of those.  And, for me and for this blog (which isn’t a “I read this blog/article, and here’s my take on it” kind of blog) I know that if I thought each post had to contain a world-changing insight, I’d never post anything.

For me, blogging is the discipline of continuing the conversation I’ve begun with my readers and fellow bloggers, constrained by the time I’ve allotted to blogging given my already too-full plate. So when it’s time to post I am where I am: sometimes I have an insight, sometimes I have an observation, sometimes I have a reaction, and sometimes what I have is a question I think is worth asking.

And here’s the secret: when I ask the question and I don’t share the answer, it’s because I don’t KNOW the answer.  But forming the question and honing it into something worth posting requires refinement, it requires getting to the heart of something that’s I think is worth exploring.

And my hope is that you agree that figuring out which questions are worth asking is as important – maybe more important – as my take on answers.  If I can help you discover a question worth asking, you’re confronted (and I’m confronted) with thorny issues you (and I) would rather run away from.  By sifting through and distilling a good question, I hope to offer up something worth answering, a direction for focusing your (and my) energies.

So on the days I don’t have answers, success is a tough question that readers decide is worth sitting with, worth grappling with, worth sharing with a friend, and worth resolving.

(And when you come up with a great answer, by all means, let us know.)

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Glitch

Of the time I spend blogging, 99% is spent on writing, and 1% (if that) on the site itself and its functionality.

However I discovered a small glitch which I’ll correct going forward: those little icons on the bottom of every post often have broken links, something I just discovered this morning.  It’s a WordPress glitch I just discovered.

It’s fixed on this post and will be going forward.  So now you can click away when you read posts that you like and want to share.  So please click away.

(And if anyone out there has been dying to improve the look of this blog, its functionality, or anything else about it, please email me.  Offers of help are always welcome.  For example a good non-manual “Tweet this” for each post…?   Feedback of all sorts is always welcome).

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Reason number 45

A few months ago I blogged a list of 44 reasons I blog.  I just stumbled across reason number 45 as I prepare for a speech.

My job (your job, anyone’s job who talks to customers or donors or board members or the media or just about anyone) is to create and to tell stories.  Stories that get people to act – to give or to buy or to stand up for something they believe in.

It should go without saying that if I’m going to be an effective storyteller, I need stories to tell.  MY stories.  Not just for big speeches – though I need them for those too – but for conversations and for media interviews and for talking to colleagues and giving feedback and of course for presentations.

Turns out I’ve got a blog full of these things – some better, some worse, but it’s there: a catalogue of stories and vignettes and thoughts and hopefully some insights every now and again.  Blogging puts a pretty high bar on what makes the cut and also forces me to develop ideas beyond my initial reflection.

I’m 100% sure I wouldn’t have the discipline to do this without the blog.  So thanks to all of you for reading, because I wouldn’t keep at it without you.

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Someday…

…I’ll be a week ahead on blog posts.

I meant that day to be today, but it’s not. And I’m going on vacation.

This is the kind of thing that should stay behind the curtain for you as a reader.

Next time.

Happy summer.