Very curious people often accumulate a varied set of skills. Everyone does, but they do so even more.
We like learning, we like how learning one thing clears the way to learn the next thing. It’s a self-reinforcing loop that feeds on our endless desire for more. And many of us really enjoy thinking of how many different things we can kind of do.
This enjoyment of stacking skills is very obvious when we can include several of our abilities in the solution of a single challenge. Shifting between modes of thinking, connecting the dots and creating something that only our tesselated minds could achieve. That ‘s the ticket!
I also think this is a bit of a developmental trap.
It’s a mistake to focus too much on this.
The vanity of skill-stacking is bad.
Ok, you get it.
I am what I know
As I speak to many creative, clever and contrarian people, I’m starting to notice a pattern of identities that are organized around the multitude of abilities a person has.
I’m not innocent here, I’ve done this plenty.
I’ve even caught myself kind of gloating for having had days where I did so many different creative things that I should be called the next Da’Vinci. This is a bit silly, of course. It’s fine to feel pride in our potential for shaping reality, but that’s the thing with potential. It’s power that has not effected change yet.
When people ask you what you do and you list a number of things you can do, you might be doing that too. It’s understandable, but also slightly limiting.
Skills are tools. And , for the most part, the value of the tool is in its application, its effect on the medium it is applied to. When we describe what we do and what we are in terms of the competencies we have accumulated, it’s like we are proud of our toolbox. Not the things we do with it.
People like us like the toolbox. They want to see it. They want to show you their toolbox too. In a way, we are a crowd of toolbox exhibitionists (are we still talking about toolboxes here?).
Try this:
Next time that you meet that cousin you love but that doesn’t get what you do, pick up your favorite book that is work-related and try to show them some of your favorite notions it contains.
If I were a betting man, I’d bet money that you will struggle to keep your cousin’s full attention.
They love you, sure, but they don’t see the point of that toolbox of yours.
There’s a missing piece.
That piece is the work that requires the use of such a complete set of tools.
I am what I do
When we hoard competence, we can get blinded to the fact that there’s a selection effect at play. We collect skills like a squirrel collects nuts. Instinctively.
But we don’t collect ALL the skills. By the sheer realness of time, we can only grab a few things. Most other things, we leave behind. Theoretically I’d like to learn to speak Arabic, but I never put in the effort and I don’t think I will. So that ability is not going into my toolbox.
The apparent randomness of the abilities we accumulate fades away when we consider what we’re using our tools for. What things we are constantly fixing.
Like a sun holding all planets in order, there’s a central pull of a question we are trying to answer. The question that makes us keep looking for more ways, more techniques and more implements. That question, albeit abstract, can illuminate what is the rhyme and reason of our seemingly incoherent fixation with learning how to do more things.
Should we tell people what our question is?
Not yet. For most people, this will overshoot their understanding.
But we can use our Big Question, as a marker in the landscape, from where we take the azymuth to a more palatable explanation.
Let me illustrate:
- Recently, I’ve noticed that my Big Question was “How can clever, contrarian and creative people make a good living outside corporate structures”.
- this speaks to my personal pain point of finding my place, in a way that I felt would not be a waste of creative potential.
- When I noticed this question, and started to be intentional about answering it, the question changed.
- Now, my question is more nuanced, and related to helping Expertise based businesses communicate their value and depth.
When my Big Question was around CCC individuals, it was inspiring, perhaps, but pointed towards a kind of business I don’t want to have right now (mostly around individual coaching).
I love doing that work, but it requires an emphasis on client acquisition that is extremely demanding.
So I’m trying to do more with small businesses. And for them, the Big Question on how CCC people can thrive is not a good guide. Small businesses are still businesses and I believe they make purchasing decisions in a slightly more careful way.
To get this sort of client, I believe I must convey what I do, not in terms of the Big Question, but in terms of a more proximate phrase. Something that a small business owner can better relate to.
See how I’ve used the initial Big Question as a starting point, but did not rely entirely on it to convey what I do?
Call us what you want, multi-potentialites, generalists, rainforest minds, whatever. But we still exist in this world, and need to find ways to connect with others.
I am what I solve
Work identities are always a subset of our broader identities. The boundaries might be getting thinner and more permeable, but we are not 100% defined by our work. I get that. I’m not advocating for the completely bone-headed view that we only matter for what economic output we can generate.
But within the realm of parts of us that relate to the work we do, to me this is a useful framing.
If you do weird work, work that sits in between obvious categories, work that connects rather than isolates, maybe this is something worth trying.
- Get a piece of paper.
- Set a timer for 5 minutes.
- Write down the one problem you’ve been solving your entire life.
It won’t take 5 minutes to finish. But they are enough to get you started.
If you can come up with an answer that is good enough (they are almost always very janky and unsatisfying) practice saying that.
Really, into a mirror or an empty Google Meets call. Hear yourself saying that.
Repeat 10 times. Then 20 times. And then, 30 times more.
Then go out into the world and see how it lands.
Adjust, notice what fits, notice what people notice.
Keep adjusting.
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