While this is not a post about my newest self imposed challenge, I wanted to let you know that this is indeed the first of 61 (hopeful) writings. As I move forward not with soul searching, but instead a soul growing goal in mind, I’m giving myself the challenge of writing every day until my birthday (Oct 7th). It’s been a year of ups and downs (okay let’s be honest - like 5 years), and I’m still on a hunt to find the thing. The thing that makes me the best version of myself, the thing that propels me to the next big thing, and the thing that gives each day meaning. Of course I find challenge and growth and meaning in work and motherhood and humanhood, but I’m still in a search of the thing.
And because this is a bit of an update since my last writing, I realized I never followed up about the ebook I was writing. The short guide book is complete and available here: Get Your Own Coffee: A Guide to Running an Intern Program That Empowers Your Business and Impacts Interns' Lives. Feel free to share it with anyone that would benefit from starting or improving an existing internship program.
Want to join me on my 61-day journey?
Onto today’s post…
Stone Soup
I fell asleep last night after time traveling to my 5th grade class where after reading Stone Soup, we were instructed to each bring in various vegetables to communally create a giant cauldron of soup for the class. I didn’t even know that memory existed in the recesses of my brain until reading “How to Make Stone Soup” in Peter Diamandis’ BOLD.
If you don’t remember the story, a few hungry soldiers convince the villagers to help make soup out of stone - something so novel that everyone got excited about it. Diamandis writes:
So the villager contributes some carrots. Soon others are adding poultry, barley, garlic, and leeks. After a while one of the soldiers calls out, “It’s done,” and shares the soup with everyone. The villagers are heard saying, “Soup from stones! It tastes fantastic. I had no idea.”
That story of stone soup comes from an old folktale that eventually became a children’s book. I heard it in college and it’s never left me. In fact, I’ve come to think of making stone soup as the only way an entrepreneur can succeed. The stones are, of course, your big bold ideas; the contributions of the villagers, the capital, resource, and intellectual support offered by investors and strategic partners. Everyone who adds a small amount to your stone soup is in fact helping to make your dreams come true.
-Diamandis, Peter H.; Kotler, Steven. Bold: How to Go Big, Create Wealth and Impact the World (Exponential Technology Series)
The old “it takes a village” is true for babies and true for businesses. But it’s not just that. It’s also the power of persuasion, and the power of the first follower. The person who contributed the carrots was the one who gave the rest of the people the thumbs up to contribute the rest of the vegetables. Credibility. Trust. And then the crowd. And THEN the soup.
Maybe moms don’t do enough persuading others to join in on the “fun” of child raising, because they know how hard it is - a tough thing to ask for help on. And partners (the ones with the carrots) aren’t like “wow this baby is so incredible, everyone else should take care of him too!” We feel like it’s our responsibility and if and when we do receive help it’s a humungous life saving favor. We don’t look at it as a communal benefit, even though if my son is raised well by everyone around me, it will in fact, benefit the greater good. He’ll be able to relate better, learn more, and eventually he’ll contribute to the soup too.
I think I took a similar approach to starting and growing Knit, and while Tiny Topanga is a little soupier, we’re still pretty insular. Our babies. Our responsibility. We’ve had help, advice, resources, etc. but not enough that you could call either business stone soup.
Reading this was timely, because yesterday, I had coffee with David Gaines, author of Radical Business, an extremely refreshing take on social enterprises and doing good business. Among some very hopeful topics of growth and community, we also spent time talking about entrepreneur burnout and lack of self care, and how lonely it can be for the social entrepreneur just trying to do good in the world.
It all came together for me with the stone soup concept. Maybe we’re tired and hungry and lonely because we don’t ask for help enough, and we haven’t spent the time convincing others that what we have to offer is for everyone. In fact, just like the mama not asking for help thinking it’s all on her, it’s not just that we’re not convincing others - we haven’t even convinced ourselves that what we’re building is good for everyone. It’s not just a cool idea that I want you to invest in so you can make some money (although that’s part of it), but it’s a ripple effect. The social entrepreneur is creating something good and if you contribute, not only will it benefit you, but it will benefit the team, the organization, the buyers, and the community at large. It’s soup for the whole village - because the whole village contributed.
A call to us all. To the mom - ask for help and believe that help is exponentially beneficial not only to you. To the founder - show the magic in what you’re doing and persuade the community that it’s for the greater good. To the community - get excited about new ideas and throw in a carrot.
Let’s be the village. And let’s make some soup.
Odd - here I am, a tad bit older than you - undertaking my own creative challenge. Both born of an unquenchable desire to develop and share my talents, to create things that did not exist previously, and of a frustration at what I've failed to get done.
And yet, while I am horrible at taking my own advice, I offer this cliché.. the doing, the journey, that's the real objective. After many years of toiling, I'm starting to believe I cannot arrive at growth. As soon as we get to a point - in time and of growth - the next one seems to be calling us.
Not sure what I'm trying to say except, I hope you enjoy the writing as much as I enjoy reading it. Try to enjoy the journey as much, or more, than the destination. Sheesh! Do I sound like an old man trying to impart wisdom that was never asked for. I probably wrote this for myself anyway. ;-)