Smashing just posted one of the most important pieces I’ve ever read about the creative process, and how it’s supported (or not) by structure. If you’re interested in creativity in any kind of corporate or organisational sense, this is an essential read. It’s also by turns witty, fun and sad.

Check it out by clicking here. Now I’m off to read more from it’s author, Speider Schneider.

This is part of an ad campaign put out by Levi’s called Go Forth. Some of their other recent efforts are more conceptually cluttered, to say the least. But this one is remarkably compelling.

Recently there was a case of a baseball empire making a bad call that cost a pitcher his perfect game. (I’m not going to link to it, or research names. Baseball fans will know the story way better than I do, and non-baseball fans won’t care about it, which is the camp I’m in.) The ump apologised publicly and apparently privately to the pitcher, and by all accounts there was peace.

Some took this an object lesson in apologising, manning up, etc. For me though, and for where I’m at, the most important part of this is that someone has got to make the hard call. The call may not be right every time. It might not be popular. But there would be no progress if there was no decision. So when it’s up to you, be afraid, count the cost, prepare your apologies if necessary, but make the hard calls.

I’m sort of an automotive nut. I read a lot of magazines, I follow automotive blogs, and talk to people who are wired about cars. I particularly appreciate older models. Somewhere along the line someone said that if you’re going to restore a classic you’d better love that car. If you don’t really love it, you won’t finish it. Craigslist is full of disassembled projects that people lost interest in. It’s easy to get distracted at any stage of the major undertaking, and find something else that’s more appealing, less work, or to simply get disheartened just give up on the whole thing. That same concept applies to a whole lot of things in life.

Sometimes it’s amazing how much energy it takes to make one incremental difference. And just because you achieved one step, that doesn’t mean that the next increment is going to be easier. Perhaps eventually they will, but not necessarily. You have to be realistic about that investment. Don’t look too far in the future or you will become overwhelmed. You need to establish small goals and celebrate their achievement.

You can only do this if you’re doing something that’s connected with the core of who you are. (Of course, that means you need to know that about yourself which is an investment in and of itself.) And you need to surround yourself with people that will keep you honest and humble yet driven. Using those people to help establish and celebrate the increments is a really good idea.

The revolution that you’re trying to start, lead or shape is worth the investment. Line it all up, and make it happen. When you’re done, you’ll end up with something that will appeal to a whole lot more people than it does now. Even if it’s a weird-looking, quirky contraption, it’ll be better with no rips in the seats, a fresh coat of paint and it’s running smoothly.

My first exposure to Emiliana Torrini’s music was the Inspired by Iceland video. (Warning: brief nudity alert!) I like that video, but it dawned on me that what I like most about it is the song. It didn’t take me long to find the official music video, and I think it is a much better match.

This tune is great fun, but there’s something haunting in its periphery. It’s like a dream that just became self-aware, and that gives it a desperate edge. It seems to know that it has to glean absolutely everything it can out of the three minutes it’s alive. But I could listen to this song for half an hour and let Emiliana unpack all of the sounds of the jungle drum. In my head, I still am…

Human nature tends toward isolation. We tend to hold grudges, to become righteously indignant, to break ties and burn bridges. I see this repeatedly even in how the church talks about fellow members of the body. Those with similar views are are rarefied paragons. Those holding a dissenting opinion are dangerous villains.

It’s much easier to throw stones than it is to hold fast to community. We’re called to build our entire network out of love. But most often the authors, the pundits, the artists, the musicians and the bloggers create because they have an axe to grind. In fact, viewed through that lens this post might even be seen to fit into that human nature agenda. So to ward that off, let me say go on record that finding dissension is missing the point. Our fight is to love, to bring harmony, to inspire unity, to effect peace. I have an axe to grind with everyone out of sync with that. There are myriads.

If you want to create an atmosphere of safety, you can’t start with safety as a motivation. Safety as a motivation won’t tolerate risk of any kind. When danger becomes intolerable, then smaller and smaller risks become greater and greater problems. No-one can ask questions. No-one can address issues. No real conversations exist. No real relationships either. Nothing is allowed to disturb the artificial peace. When safety is the ultimate goal, no-one will ever be safe. Everything dies by default.

But if everyone is encouraged into healthy, appropriate and necessary risk, then safety can happen. Grace can abound in a place where each person is responsible to speak their minds, to exercise their callings, to simply try stuff. Then we all learn to moderate our expectations, to allow for people bumping into us as we bump into others, to learn from both good and bad experiences. Everything comes to life!

When I was in high-school, one of my classmates asked the question “What is love? I mean, how do you know when you’ve got it?” I remember fumbling my way through the ‘right’ answer (love is a decision more than a feeling, etc.), and predictably I got an exasperated sigh and a brush-off. The issue has resurfaced recently in a very close-to-home sort of way which I’m not prepared to get into. But let me just add some more perspective that age has offered.

The actual right answer is that love is a feeling. And a decision. In fact it’s a decision to maintain the feeling just as much as it is to maintain the commitment in its absence.

There is no way that you can separate feeling from love. It’s inherent. Love will break your heart. And when your heart breaks, well, that’s how you know you’ve got it.

But when your love is only causing you pain, it’s time to get out.

Oh man, where do I start? A ton of emotional energy and time is invested into developing and wordsmithing this stuff, but I’ve never seen it do anything appreciable. Really, I’m not exaggerating: not a single thing.

Humans don’t get this stuff by reading, or even writing it. They just don’t. They get it by doing it. Just like everything else in life. But especially mission/vision clauses have somehow been bestowed with an in-built expectation that they are feasible surrogates for experience.

Core values also have a perceived capacity to solve problems and unite people. Their reality is a lot more problematic. No mission statement works if it’s too prescriptive, that is to say, focused on what we should be doing. Lofty, ambitious statements are apt to be divisive, because people have the hardest time agreeing on the future. Rather, they work best if they are descriptive, defining who we are right now. So they succeed at a goal that is obvious, pointless and which has a very short lifespan.

Every time out, when the statement is crafted it will either get filed, or put into a unvisited portion of a website, or at the very highest level of visibility, posted on a wall to collect highly visible dust. Again, totally pointless. Words simply do not carry the life that is invested in them.

So why is there such heightened angst surrounding mission, vision and core values? Why are things held up until they exist? No mission statement ever started anything. Everything starts with action. You can refine what you’re doing, and what you’re not doing as you go, and you can describe it when it’s moving. I can certainly help with that. But if you’re doing it right, so can anyone else. Perhaps it’s just better to do and worry about the words after.

I’ve had an urge to start asking questions of people. Random, out-of-the-blue questions put to random, out-of-the-blue people. I’m starting here.

What is the most bizarre compliment you’ve ever received?

It could be unintended, misconstrued, ill-timed, awkward, back-handed or just ‘off’. Drop me a comment.