Have you ever wondered why people feel the need to start up their own non-profit for a cause rather than just work with the non-profits that are already working for that cause?
Wouldn't it be more efficient, focused and drain less resources to have one BIG non-profit rocking the water problem, one BIG non-profit tackling the homeless problem, one BIG non-profit healing the disease problem, etc?
It has become trendy in my world to criticize non-profts in a city with more non-profits than any other city in the United States. "They should stop asking people for money and go out and get real jobs," I heard a friend of mine recently say.
But does he feel the same way about...say...photography? I mean, shouldn't there be just one BIG photography company that runs all of the worlds photography needs? Wouldn't that be more efficient?
And shouldn't there be just one BIG clothing company, and one BIG bank and one BIG school and one BIG government and one BIG church and one BIG TV station or film company where everything is streamlined and efficient?
Think about your profession. Shouldn't there be just one BIG [insert your profession here] to take care of all of the world's needs?
If you're like me, answering that question gets uncomfortable. It seems like when you start making one BIG anything you start losing something else. You start losing uniqueness, you start losing leadership development, leadership expression and-- in the long run-- you diminish a culture's capacity to create, not enhance it.
Not everyone loves being a worker bee in middle management of something huge. Not everyone should. Some people love to start new things. Other people love to run old things. Some like to take broken things and fix them, others like to take the best and make it better.
Non-profits and For-profits should work together when they can, absolutely. But the presence of many unique people tackling the same problems in their own unique way with their own unique social networks should be celebrated, not condemned.
The same goes for business, governments, churches, universities, and-- yes-- non profits.
We need more of them, not less. And the ones we have now need to be better. So get on it.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Take It Off The Shelf
Right now there is a book on my shelf, taunting me.
It was an impulse purchase from Amazon. I tend to buy books in bulk and then read them over the next, say, 20 years. If “1-click purchase” was crack cocaine I wouldn’t have any teeth and would live in Baltimore.
Or then again, maybe I have it all wrong. Maybe it’s like the puppy locked out of the house in the back yard. You walk by the window and he puts his two front paws against the glass, whimpering. His puppy-dog eyes say it all:
Play with me.
Whether that book is taunting me or whimpering I can’t be sure. But one thing I know is that it’s on the shelf. Collecting dust. Sandwiched between a sci-fi novel and a self-help book. How terrible.
I tend to put a lot of things on the shelf. Not just books, pictures and trinkets from the last vacation. I can also cram relationships, hobbies, hard conversations and dreams between my IKEA purchased, put-together-myself-without-swearing shelves.
Upon reflection, there’s a lot of stuff that is in my life...but barely. They’re on the shelf. “On the shelf” means I think about it every now and then, usually before I fall asleep. My last waking moment is usually, “Oh! I would really love to do that! Maybe I’ll start tomor….zzzzzzzzzzz.”
And on the shelf they stay. Collecting dust.
"On the shelf" items get talked about over coffee with friends or standing in line for an over-priced movie. "Hey, wouldn't it be cool if...?" we say. And then the cup is empty or the movie is over and-- for whatever reason-- that idea never makes it into the texture of our daily lives.
The problem is that many of life’s most fulfilling moments, most rewarding risks and most exciting opportunities tend to stay on the shelf. Like fine china or a grandfather’s watch—we hold those possibilities with such high esteem that we never bother touching them.
Could it be that the keys to unlocking the parts of our lives we most desperately want to change are sitting on the shelf, right in front of us?
So take your life off the shelf.
www.sparkgood.com
It was an impulse purchase from Amazon. I tend to buy books in bulk and then read them over the next, say, 20 years. If “1-click purchase” was crack cocaine I wouldn’t have any teeth and would live in Baltimore.
Or then again, maybe I have it all wrong. Maybe it’s like the puppy locked out of the house in the back yard. You walk by the window and he puts his two front paws against the glass, whimpering. His puppy-dog eyes say it all:
Play with me.
Whether that book is taunting me or whimpering I can’t be sure. But one thing I know is that it’s on the shelf. Collecting dust. Sandwiched between a sci-fi novel and a self-help book. How terrible.
I tend to put a lot of things on the shelf. Not just books, pictures and trinkets from the last vacation. I can also cram relationships, hobbies, hard conversations and dreams between my IKEA purchased, put-together-myself-without-swearing shelves.
Upon reflection, there’s a lot of stuff that is in my life...but barely. They’re on the shelf. “On the shelf” means I think about it every now and then, usually before I fall asleep. My last waking moment is usually, “Oh! I would really love to do that! Maybe I’ll start tomor….zzzzzzzzzzz.”
And on the shelf they stay. Collecting dust.
"On the shelf" items get talked about over coffee with friends or standing in line for an over-priced movie. "Hey, wouldn't it be cool if...?" we say. And then the cup is empty or the movie is over and-- for whatever reason-- that idea never makes it into the texture of our daily lives.
The problem is that many of life’s most fulfilling moments, most rewarding risks and most exciting opportunities tend to stay on the shelf. Like fine china or a grandfather’s watch—we hold those possibilities with such high esteem that we never bother touching them.
Could it be that the keys to unlocking the parts of our lives we most desperately want to change are sitting on the shelf, right in front of us?
So take your life off the shelf.
www.sparkgood.com
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
No This Without This.
Take a minute and watch the short Youtube clip. Go ahead, explore your inner geek.
Okay, so this is how it works: you don't get the elation of victory without first stepping into the uncertainty of defeat. In geek: you don't get to experience the thrill of blowing up the Death Star until you first have to courage to almost die trying.
Everyone longs for the victory, for the elated moment when you get the girl, make the winning shot, overcome the obstacles and...yes...blow up the Death Star. But those moments are unavailable to those of us who don't ask her out, take the shot, fight the odds or...yes...fly into the heart of the Death Star.
So what's worth trying for? Go for it.
Okay, so this is how it works: you don't get the elation of victory without first stepping into the uncertainty of defeat. In geek: you don't get to experience the thrill of blowing up the Death Star until you first have to courage to almost die trying.
Everyone longs for the victory, for the elated moment when you get the girl, make the winning shot, overcome the obstacles and...yes...blow up the Death Star. But those moments are unavailable to those of us who don't ask her out, take the shot, fight the odds or...yes...fly into the heart of the Death Star.
So what's worth trying for? Go for it.
And if you like pictures:
NO THIS:
WITHOUT THIS:
Thursday, June 17, 2010
The Game Is You.
Ever notice how well you can get to know someone when you're not trying to?
Road trips are probably the best example of this. The point is to drive somewhere, but over the course of the next 8 hours of playing music, reading in the back seat, eating over-priced chips from the gas station and talking about important and mostly not important stuff, you begin connecting with the people in the car with you.
This can happen on road trips, this can happen playing basketball or poker or even watching The Bachelor on TV.
With road trips the object of the game is to get someplace but the result is often times friendship.
With basketball the object of the game is to win, but by striving to win you can often times become friends.
When it comes to Sparks the object of the game isn't a destination or winning-- the object of the game is you.
Now, not only is that a game worth playing but-- as with basketball and road trips and watching TV shows-- while you play or drive you also connect with people in unexpected ways.
Ask yourself this question: What games are you playing in your life-- what environments are you putting yourself in-- where the object of the game is you?
Not in a narcissistic way but in a way that helps you become more compassionate, more proactive, more alive.
The Game is You. And when you play that game well with others you get to know others in surprising ways.
www.sparkgood.com
Road trips are probably the best example of this. The point is to drive somewhere, but over the course of the next 8 hours of playing music, reading in the back seat, eating over-priced chips from the gas station and talking about important and mostly not important stuff, you begin connecting with the people in the car with you.
This can happen on road trips, this can happen playing basketball or poker or even watching The Bachelor on TV.
With road trips the object of the game is to get someplace but the result is often times friendship.
With basketball the object of the game is to win, but by striving to win you can often times become friends.
When it comes to Sparks the object of the game isn't a destination or winning-- the object of the game is you.
Now, not only is that a game worth playing but-- as with basketball and road trips and watching TV shows-- while you play or drive you also connect with people in unexpected ways.
Ask yourself this question: What games are you playing in your life-- what environments are you putting yourself in-- where the object of the game is you?
Not in a narcissistic way but in a way that helps you become more compassionate, more proactive, more alive.
The Game is You. And when you play that game well with others you get to know others in surprising ways.
www.sparkgood.com
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
I Don't Know.
A little while back I tweeted something in Latin.
Huc venite, pueri, ut viri sitis.
Considering the meaning of that phrase, this post is appropriate.
The response to that tweet was a little unnerving. A few friends made a joke about it (let's be honest-- Latin tweets are a tad pretentious...and so is using the word "tad")
But a few people actually gave me a hard time about the tweet since they didn't know what it meant.
The irony is that I didn't know what the it meant when I first read it either. I don't know Latin. I was reading a book and it didn't tell me what it meant. I had to look up the translation on Google. Took me about 2 seconds.
Few people who read my tweet knew what it meant. Almost everyone looked at the tweet and said what can be the hardest 3 words to say in the English language: I don't know.
What's frustrating is when "I don't know" is followed by a period instead of a comma. "I don't know" with a period is like saying "I don't know and I don't care." This is fine when it comes to Latin tweets. But often times we get in the habit of the period with things that actually do matter, and our confidence in our own ability to learn, solve problems and overcome obstacles becomes damaged.
"I don't know" followed by a comma means "I don't know but I'm going to find out." The coma is the 2 second Google search. The coma is curiosity and a confidence that you can probably figure it out if you put a little elbow grease into it.
Granted, the comma is more important when it matters.
So what matters to you?
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