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Tag: goals

Thoughts become things

Several months ago I made clear what I would do if I had $40,000.

I’m no stranger to the power of making dreams known. There is a creative force behind intention. Set your mind to it, and seemingly distant aspirations become achievable.

This is where we sell ourselves short. It’s terrifying to announce what we want. Not only might it NOT happen, it COULD happen. And then?

The important thing is to have a vision, but not become so fixed on the end result you miss alternatives to getting there. No, I didn’t find $40,000, but a grassroots effort has taken hold, and a group of dedicated, brave individuals have come together to make the Learning House a reality.

Don’t simply wish this holiday season. Write it down, believe that your idea can take flight. Because if you believe it, it can.

Happy holidays from Nepal and from the Project Exponential community worldwide.

The hardest part

The terror, the fear. The realization this is the moment that separates good from greatness. Your chance to succeed, to make your dreams real. The do or die.

Your stomach churns and your heartbeat quickens.

The leap.

You’re not alone.

The school boy entering his first class.
The athlete poised at the starting block.
His first college exam.
Her investor pitch.
Signing the contract.
The alarm goes off.

You’ve felt this before.

You survived.

You moved on to the next, bigger thing.

Accept the fear. It’s part of it. Then begin.

Autonomy (I will teach you to be rich and have a perfect body and find the love of your life)

There is one faucet wheel left in the kitchen. When you turn the water on or off, it drops with a loud CLANG into the tin sink. I’ve offered to have it fixed. “It’s not our house,” they say. I’ve been living here for just over one year; they’ve been here for seven.

I live among the people I work for (and with). Not only have I grown to love them like my own family, I’ve been offered a window into their lives, the trials they must suffer and how they see the world. One of the best gifts in life is a new perspective, and I’ve been lucky to be invited to share theirs.

I’ve compared the psyche of probationers and CMOs, entrepreneurs and monks, diamond sellers and social workers. There’s one significant difference.

It’s what marketing schemes and addiction recovery theories capitalize on. It’s what books promise when they tell you “I will show you how to get rich” and fitness models tempt with chiseled abs and downloadable workout videos. It’s how self help “gurus” sell monthly packages and some people start businesses while others stay at jobs they hate for years on end.

Autonomy.

Autonomy is the belief that you can do, and that you’re capable of doing. People who are depressed lose this. This is the tragedy when you see animals, even people, trapped, locked up, stuck. They’ve lost the belief that their actions have an effect, so they give up. This is the worst thing.

The belief in yourself comes BEFORE any plan or action. It requires confidence and courage. It is the seed from which work and ideas blossom. Where creativity takes flight.

It doesn’t have to be big. One thought, “I can do,” followed by “I am doing,” and finally, “I did it!” tends to ripple. A little thing becomes the next, slightly bigger thing. And before you know it, you’re making dreams come to life.

Start with the kitchen sink.

No one has it figured out

A large number of Nepalis work or study abroad.

Recently I found myself speaking to a young man preparing for his first year of college. He was scared as hell, understandably so, leaving behind his family and everything familiar to attend college in Louisiana. This would be the first time he traveled outside Nepal.

I was 17 when I left the cornfields of Longmont, Colorado for Manhattan’s concrete version. It was terrifying, and I cried the entire plane ride from Denver to LGA. My flight was just over three hours, and it took everything in me to not unlock the hatch. This guy was looking at three days of travel, layovers in several countries, and an immigration officer waiting at the end.

We talked about what he could expect — pop music and football fields, red and blue plastic party cups, kids from different backgrounds, movie popcorn, pizza delivery — and what not to expect — daily dal bhat, the hum of electric generators, saris, cows in the road, bargaining over prices. I taught him how to pronounce Baton Rouge.

I was told to study Humanities because this is what students were advised if they didn’t know what they wanted to do. I focused too much on grades and too little on experiences. It wasn’t until later I realized how valuable relationships with professors could be and that some my greatest lessons would be learned simply living in New York City. What I know now, at age 30, I failed to recognize then:

Nobody knows.

Some people are just really good at pretending. That kid who marched into the lecture hall, back straight, broad smile? I envied him. He said he was going to be an actor. I think he is selling shoes now in Lower Manhattan.

I had a girlfriend who lit up every room she walked into. Her laughter was contagious. I studied the way she talked to the lunch lady to try to figure out how she did it. One night I found her crying in our tiny dorm room closet, something I always did when she was out lighting up the city. She didn’t know, either.

Everyone is flailing. We fly through the air until we find something to hold onto: love, a promotion, a career change, money, a new job, adventure. We’re always wanting something, unless we give up or stop trying.

And this is one of the secrets of Project Exponential, it’s why dinners work. There’s a chance Your Something — your work, your passion, your failures, your connections — might be what someone else needs to find Their Something. And they might have exactly what you need to move forward with yours.

The student in Louisiana is fine. He likes Pizza Hut.

On beginning, career change, and empathy

The following is derived from an interview. For the full article, click here. 

How did you begin Project Exponential?

MW: I was living in New York City, bored out of my mind after finishing my masters at Columbia University and working in their admissions department. The creative in me wasn’t satisfied, and the realist in me knew I couldn’t afford to stay in Manhattan on a social worker’s salary. I began moonlighting as a copywriter and slowly weaseled my way into the advertising industry.

How does a social worker enter advertising?

MW: The same skills I’d use in the therapist room I would use while consulting with larger companies: asking questions, trying to dissect possible causes for a person’s behavior, trying to understand what they want and what drives them. In advertising, it’s the same thing. You identify your audience and imagine who they are, what they want, what motivates them. Then you build campaigns that successfully reach them. The method is similar but the population is different.

How did the first dinner come about?

MW: After directing New York City’s Social Media Week, my contact list became an eclectic mix of social do-gooders and non-profit leaders, tech experts, marketing gurus, entrepreneurs and a various assortment of athletes, entertainers and minor celebrities. I imagined what might happen if these accomplished, talented people found themselves in one room. The therapist from the South Bronx has something to offer the Wall Street executive; it’s just a matter of giving them the opportunity to exchange ideas and talk openly.

Who was invited?

MW: The very first dinner was a list of academics, entrepreneurs, investors, therapists, writers, performers, and marketers. I invited around twenty people to SoHo’s Cafe Select. They have a great back room, a hidden dungeon that you have to walk through the kitchen to enter. It’s lit with small lights and candles, and the magical environment added to the evening’s serendipity.

One of the key ways I separate Project Exponential from other networking events is I don’t tell people who is coming. I don’t list names or titles. I want people to connect on a real and personal level. If they want to reveal they’re the CEO of whatever company because they feel that is important, fine, but I’m more focused on relationship building and what someone has to give. That’s where the real magic happens.

What do people talk about at dinners?

MW: Dinners are loosely structured with questions; the exact format depends on who is attending. I encourage people to talk about their struggles and challenges because everyone in the room is some expert. It’s an incredible resource for people. Sometimes the best insight comes from someone looking at a problem from an entirely different perspective, and work can be inspired with a fresh set of eyes.

How are dinners structured?

Dinner questions often focus on empathy and giving. The topic of empathy is one that has been derived from my social work training. The ability to recognize what contributes to another’s worldview, what influences the way they assess and analyze situations, and how to put yourself in their shoes is a skill that can be utilized both personally and professionally.

Seating charts are designed based on what I’ve come to learn about each person and what I think they can offer. The number of attendees is limited because I have found small groups allow the type of intimacy that enables people to connect and get honest.

You have a large roster of clients who want to attend. How has the word spread?

MW: It’s been word of mouth. A lot of thrashing happened in the beginning. I tried different formats and researched the history of the salon. Trial and error came helped me define the ideal size and format for the dinners. The evening unfolds like an onion: the beginning is creative and exploratory and by the end of the evening, people are helping each other with real life problems. They’re asking each other questions and using each other as resources, even sometimes hugging as friends.

What is the process of selecting guests for the evening?

MW: That’s my social work background: how to analyze and assess and identify areas of need and opportunity. My work is to get the right people in the room. I evaluate each attendee’s experiences and look to match skills and interests. I look at it like a big puzzle piece, putting people together in a way that makes sense.

My opinion is that most everyone is trying to get somewhere. If I can make introductions to someone who is already “there” or knows how to move in that direction, that is value. Very few people are exactly where they want to be. And that’s a good thing. We’re all in this together — exploring and failing and achieving goals. The beauty is that people have different experiences across different verticals.

How do online interactions affect these offline encounters?

MW: Technology has been instrumental to bridging gaps that once existed. We have the opportunity to develop so many different connections and reach out to people we didn’t have access to before; however, I believe certain things can only develop in person, away from computers and gadgets.

Project Exponential has been founded on blending both worlds to create meaningful relationships. I use social platforms to introduce and connect people yet emphasize the value that stems from real experiences. The most authentic, vulnerable conversations take place when you step away from the screen.

What has been most rewarding for you?

MW: The emails I get from people whose career paths have changed because of someone they met, people who have started projects together. Others have found business partners, friends, mentors. My work with Seth Godin showed me the value of connection and what can happen when people build relationships in a real way.

My best success is when I’ve helped someone move in the direction that’s closer to what they want for themselves, both in business and in life. As a probation officer, I found great satisfaction in seeing positive change. It’s the same thing now: I love hearing I’ve helped people achieve their goals by introducing them to the right people.

The art of the pitch

I’m not an investor or angel, but I recently received an email from a stranger looking to raise significant funds for his seafood company. This eager entrepreneur quickly launched into the background of his fish farm, detailing his motivation and financial goals. In his excitement, he failed to do background research on my work and interests.

While I can’t claim I’ve secured millions for a start-up (yet…), I’ve raised my fair share for causes and organizations, conferences and seminars. I’ve successfully procured hard cash, in-kind partnerships, sponsorships, food, clothing and more.  I’ve learned there’s a certain grace that must accompany requests; a careful, precise touch can endear people to you instead of sending them running away.

I’ll spare details from the fish man’s email and provide my top tips for anyone looking to acquire capital and build valuable partnerships:

1. Serve an appetizer before the main course.

Give people a taste of what you have to offer. If they’re interested, you can launch into your full pitch. It’s like dating; you don’t want to give away too much too soon.

Investors and VCs are short on time and attention, so keep your message concise to increase your chance of success. If someone likes the first course, they’ll stay for the next serving.

2. Know your audience.

Invest in the people you’re asking to invest in you. Ask questions. Find out what they’re interested in, what they like to do on the weekends, what projects they’re excited about and pitch appropriately.

3. One size does not fit all.

Take time to craft individual emails. (If your need is met, the energy and time spent will be worth it.) Copy-and-pasting can result in embarrassing formatting errors if you’re not careful, and people know if they’re subject to mass mailing. Hand-crafted emails make people feel like you actually care — and in turn, they’ll care about what you have to say.

4. Express gratitude.

It doesn’t matter if someone funds you or not, you’re building a relationship. They’ve taken time out of their schedule to hear you out. Thank them graciously.

5. Investment isn’t only dollars.

Don’t be discouraged if you’re not handed a check. Consider other ways someone might “invest” in you: Mentorship? Referrals? A solid reference? Meaningful introductions? Ask for feedback and suggestions as you continue to move your project forward.