IT’S LIKE A BOWL OF FRUIT

What if your best skill is all the skills?

Here’s a hint: It’s not.

I’ve admitted here before that after reflection on my body of work, brilliance isn’t the first thing that comes to mind. No matter how hard I try, I am only able to accomplish things fairly well if I accomplish them at all. Yet, knowing this as I do doesn’t seem to stop me from thinking that I’m the best person for every job, every time. I’ve tried to pull back from wearing so many hats. I try to let more of those on my team lead more projects, initiate more initiatives, and define more directions. The problem is, they never do it the way I would do it.

I know what you are expecting to hear next: You think I’m going to say “And that’s a beautiful thing. The way I would do it is not as gifted as theirs, so it’s a clear win.”

IT’S LIKE A BOWL OF FRUIT

Sorry, but it’s not so easy for me, and here’s why: Take a painting of a bowl of fruit by a master like Monet or Picasso. Undisputed brilliance. That’s what I’m going for. That’s what the project needs. Then there’s a child’s sketch of a bowl of fruit that winds up on the kitchen refrigerator. That mom sees it as the best painting of a bowl of fruit ever crafted.

In this example, I’m both the child and the mom. I’ve painted my version and I think that it’s better than what those masters put together. So I toss theirs and put mine on the fridge for the world to see.

In fairness to me, I’m exaggerating for effect as I often do. I don’t do this every single time. I take pride in seeking out gifted people, then watch them bring their best. But I can point to several times where my bowl of fruit analogy isn’t far from reality, and that’s a shame.

MY VERSION OF COLLABORATING

I preach a lot about knowing our limits and strengths. About conceding to those limits, and leveraging strengths. I preach it, but I don’t always practice it. This is likely rooted from years of working by myself as a record producer. I’ve “collaborated” with some of the most gifted musicians and vocalists in the studio. Why did I use quotes on collaborated you ask? Because being a musician in my sessions typically went like this:

Step 1. A gifted session musician hears the track and comes up with an amazing part to play.
Step 2. I tell them how nice that suggestion is, but here’s the part I would like them to play.
Step 3. The musician plays my part. We just collaborated.

Allow me to overgeneralize and say that there are two types of record producers: Those that hang back in a dark corner of the studio and let inspired musicians bring their best while contributing here and there to drive the overall sound in an agreed direction. Then there are those that hear every detail in their head long before the sessions are booked, and they work to that end directing every decision in the studio on the artistic and technical sides. You can imagine which type I was.

I had a fantastic run as a record producer and I’m very proud of my work. Still, I can’t help but wonder if I’d have had more fun, and more creative outcomes had I dipped my toe into that other personality - even if only on occasion. Instead, I was too busy with my crayons painting my bowl of fruit, then putting it on the fridge like it was my crowning achievement.

IS IT ALL JUST CAMO?

I have a distaste for people patting themselves on their back. If you want to be congratulated, then don’t tell me how well you did something. It’s meaningless when it comes from you - your work should do your talking for you. But the more I think about the way I control and collaborate, I wonder if I’m not doing exactly the same thing. Perhaps I need everyone to know that these are my ideas. Perhaps I’ve simply found a more camouflaged way to pat myself on the back.

I’m just thinking out loud here and that may not be the case, but I can’t rule it out. It’s more likely that my introverted personality simply enjoys working things out on my own. Then there’s the possible explanation that I’ve been stuck in a closed loop. Perhaps by accident or sheer luck I turned out one good product, which led to the next client knocking on my door, and the one after that. Changing my formula could have adverse affects on the product. On the other hand, changing formulas at each turn is exactly what some of my favorite visionaries have done in order to retain relevance as things around them change.

THEN IT DAWNED ON ME

I have a community of friends who are far smarter than myself. I notice them often seeking input to decisions or challenges they are facing. It has seldom occurred to me to ask for input. I must have thought to myself that I was the only one who had it all together. The only one who had all the answers. One embarrassing example stands out:

Many years ago a friend was asking me for advice on a music publishing contract. I told him what he needed to do, and that settled the matter. An hour later I hear him asking another friend for the same advice. I was literally offended because that matter was already settled. He was simply looking for input from various perspectives so that he could make his decision. It somehow hurt me that he would seek input beyond my definitive answer. Try as you might and you’re not going to find anything more messed up than that.

It took a long time to dawn on me that I need advice more than most people, I just didn’t realize it.

LET IT GO

I eventually found the power of leveraging the skills and experiences of those around me. These last few years I’ve particularly embraced this. Occasionally in my new zeal I’ve even gone too far. I’m sure that even that’s debatable, and if true it’s a refreshing and welcome change.

So this one took me a while but I’m getting there and I’m seeing great value. It still isn’t my natural course, and I still think my bowl of fruit is pretty dang good. The difference is now I realize that I’m wrong - It’s usually a worse bowl of fruit.

But that’s actually a different topic. That borders on self-awareness. I’m not yet ready to write that blog post.

Cheers!