project people


This weekend, Marcus and I were sitting in our kitchen with a relatively new friend, Paul, who had stopped by.  As we talked, we learned that Paul and I had actually attended the same university at roughly the same time, overlapping one year.  "What was your major?" I asked.

"Aerospace engineering.  You?"

"Civil engineering."

We both laughed.  Neither of us are doing anything related to our undergraduate degree programs.  That's how it goes, I guess.

We continued talking -- both of us having had several different careers since our early twenties, when he suddenly said, "I realized some time ago that I'm a project person.  I love to have a project to immerse myself in, from beginning to end, and then move on to another project and do it all over again."

As soon as he said this, it was like a light went on.  "Me too," I smiled.  And suddenly, I knew what was the cause of the unease that I've been feeling over the last few weeks:

I need a new project.

It has been three years since I wrote The Beauty of Different, and since then I've been incredibly busy:  tons of travel, both for public speaking engagements and storytelling gigs -- and the truth is, I've enjoyed every minute of it.  But talking with Paul, I realized that what I've been missing is what the process of writing The Beauty of Different was to me:  an all-consuming, invades-all-my-thoughts, big-huge-goal-to-be-trudging-towards project.

I love those.

So, I'm on a quest for a new project.  Let the brainstorming seriously begin.

If you're on a similar quest for 2014 (or you're a project person, like Paul and me), consider signing up for CREATE.2014:  it's going to be all about framing the coming year, with lots of mess-making, and not a guilt-inducing resolution in sight.   I'd love for you to join us.