Letter from John: October 2011

Last month, our team gathered around a table with the creative wordsmiths from Zuula Consulting. We've known Deanna and Meghan for several years, and were excited to engage their talents as we to develop a shared language around our business, our community and the work that we do.

We started with music. Seriously. The Zuula team asked each of us ahead of time to identify a song that represented our company, and out popped the very eclectic mix of U2's "Elevation"; the iconic "We Are the World" from the 1985 USA for Africa effort; and the peppy but political "Dream Machine" by Mark Farina. Can you see a common thread in the three songs? We did.

We migrated from music to explore some deeper concepts: emotion, connection and transformation. We explored what we collectively imagined Floricane to be at its best. In short order, a real sense of shared perspective began to emerge in the room.

A few discoveries (or rediscoveries) from our time with Zuula:

• We bring meaningful connections, a relevant process, fresh perspective and the freedom to dream to our engagements. 
• Our biggest competitor? Surprise. Our own egos, and that difficult tension between hubris and self-doubt. 
• A gift we bring? Intentional space that can create a shift for individuals and teams. Opening windows of possibility, provides our clients a glimpse of a different future. 
• Our aspiration: To help our clients dream, leap and change - and by doing so, change our community, and the world.

It was refreshing to hit the pause button during what turned out to be our busiest month of the year, and to allow someone else to do the facilitating. Our brief time with Zuula opened new windows of possibility for our team, and we think you'll be excited by some of what's already drifting from the room.

Playground Perspectives: Writing Our Stories (September 2011)

During our summer weekends at her great-grandfather's riverfront home in Deltaville, Thea found a home in a hammock.It was where she and Nikole went to watch the sun rise over the Chesapeake Bay each morning, and where she and I joyously swung in the late afternoons as the sun set across the Rappahannock River.

"Swing me faster," she would cry out as I stood in the grass pushing the thickly woven tangle of rope.

And suddenly -- "Not so fast, Daddy!" as the hammock tilts toward the horizon.

I found myself alone on the hammock one recent evening, reflecting on the memories we are beginning to create with Thea.

A consultant I know is fond of saying, "When we're on our death bed, no one says, 'Bring me my stuff, I want to touch it all one more time.'" Rather, we want to be surrounded by our memories, our stories, those of our friends and families able to gather near.

All of us leave memories, stories and lives in our wake every day. In our best moments, we are as enriched as the people we touch. At our worst, we fray the edges -- we spill out.

Helping to create new stories for Thea is a deeply rewarding product of the way Nikole and I have decided to parent her.

While we're very intentional about wanting our daughter to experience a life full of relationships and activity, most of what we create with her is driven by her enthusiastic discoveries and the basic business of day-to-day life.

We have a child that loves to do things -- collect bugs and acorns, make puzzles, explore the city's nooks and crannies. She loves her simple, weekend visits with her Omie to play with an oversized, meticulously crafted dollhouse, and weekly excursions with her MeMaw to art class or to get ice cream.

Lately, she's craving stories -- of my first dog, of my dad, of my first day at school. She's reassured that her mother and I have pasts not too dissimilar from her life, and takes simple joy from hearing about our childhoods.

We come full circle.

I watch my daughter live her own, unique reflections of my childhood -- a little richer, a little happier. I watch my shadows grow smaller as her life becomes more fully her own.

"Faster!" and then, "Not so fast!" as summer draws to a close.

Letter from John: September 2011

In preparation for a five-month leadership program we're designing and facilitating for a diverse group of 35 leaders, managers and influencers at the Library of Virginia, I've been re-reading a slim, yellow book -- "The Art of Possibility".

Written by husband-wife team Benjamin and Rosamund Zander, it is an affirming read that inevitably triggers debates between the optimists and pessimists in any given room. Ben Zander is the conductor of the Boston Philharmonic, and his perspectives are deeply rooted in the world of music. They resonate with me. They're also deeply optimistic.

Among his lessons: Leading from any chair. Being a contribution. Giving yourself an A.

The notion of giving yourself an A is what has triggered the most debate among previous groups I've facilitated. The idea is simple -- as you begin an effort, step into the future and imagine "giving yourself an A" at the end of the project or activity. Then map out what you did (will do) to earn it; write yourself a letter from the future describing it. Take it a step further and give an A to people around you -- assume the best, set aside your judgments, ask deeper questions about what might really be going on, provide encouragement and direction.

One of the hardest things to do over the past three years of running my own business has been to give myself an A. There have been big moments in my Floricane life where an A just seemed too hard to achieve. Moments when my confidence flagged, when I wasn't hitting on all cylinders, when money was not just tight but the meter was running in reverse, fast.

Fortunately, I'm surrounded by a lot of people who are willing to give me an A -- my wife, the Floricane team, friends, clients, and a plethora of smart mentors. In moments of self-doubt, nothing beats having a handful of good graders surrounding you. Finding ways to give yourself an A, and looking for opportunities to give others a solid grade, can have a huge impact.

It's powerful stuff, and its surprisingly simple. Aren't most things that make a difference?

Current Work: August 2011

Our team is pretty excited about our current mix of clients, as well as some of the recent work we've completed.  Here's a sampling of some of the activity that has kept the Floricane team on our toes this summer:

• Strategic planning for Virginia Clean Cities
• Staff strategic retreat for the Bonner Center for Civic Engagement    
• Board strategic retreat for the Virginia Oral Health Coalition    
• Leadership and team development for the Library of Virginia    
• Leadership and team development for the Richmond Association of Realtors    
• Team development for Bon Secours Watkins Center    
• Insights self-awareness training for Mentor Richmond    
• Insights self-awareness training for the Software Consortium    
• Board development for The James House

Letter from John: August 2011

The problem with ideas? Sometimes they just keep coming...

An example: In July, my friend John Bryan from CultureWorks headed out to Powhatan County for a little tour. He met a local farmer who started talking about the importance of floricanes in the cultivation of blackberry bushes.John immediately told her about Floricane, the business, and suggested that she and I meet.

The minute John mentioned it to me, my mind took a plunge: 24 of my favorite clients on a walking tour of a Powhatan farm, getting schooled on floricanes and raricanes and the art of cultivation. Lun ch on a plank table in a barn, where we connect the dots to the cultivation of people and cultures within our organizations. Everyone leaves with their own blackberry cutting, and a new perspective on leadership.

These things literally write themselves.

Ideas are a dime a dozen, of course, especially when you're an entrepreneur. When I worked for someone else, the ideas came just as easily. Sometimes more frequently. But they had to navigate bureaucracy and politics. They were often subsumed by or integrated with other people's smarter ideas. They simply took more time.

In any world, ideas should add value. And the best ideas still come from collaboration; the different perspectives of other people clarify and strengthen even the best ideas.

When the June launch event for i.e.* was finished, I found myself in conversation with brand architect Peter Fraser and designer Ansel Olson about collaborating on a follow-on event. Within two weeks, we had a six-week workshop series designed and 10 talented #RVA creatives lined up to engage 240 people in hands-on creative experiences.

The idea we're cultivating in Powhatan and the SHOP CLASS workshops that launched in early August won't add a nickel to Floricane's bottom line, but they'll change the way people connect and create, and learn and lead.

We know that when ideas strengthen our community, they also serve our small company's brand.

We also know that while ideas still have to add value, the bottom line doesn't have to drive our creativity and passion.

Playground Perspectives: Just You and Me (August 2011)

"I want a special Daddy and Thea day," my three-year-old said to me several weeks ago. This heart-warming request came on the heels of a heart-breaking week -- hysterical mornings complete with meltdowns, tears and plaintive pleas that I not go to work.

And so we have carved out some blocks of time during the weekend where Thea and I hit the mean streets of #RVA to run errands and explore together.

There's something special about being alone with her for a block of time; during exceptionally busy weeks, I might see her for an hour at each end of the day -- and we're usually very focused on getting dressed, eating or wrapping up the day.

We don't do anything exceptional during these Daddy and Thea jaunts. Generally we hit the coffee shop, maybe a farmers market. We'll visit her Omie (my mom) for a spell. The library, the playground, the grocery store -- these are a few of our typical excursions. This past weekend, we made fresh grape juice and tomato sauce together. She had a blast!

We both value this time. Certainly, she seems to enjoy herself when we're together. It eases a bit of the jealousy I sometimes feel during the week when Nikole updates her Instagram photo stream with gorgeous photos of Thea at the beach or playing in the house. It reminds me just how important it is to create individual time with people -- those we love, those we influence, those we value, those we lead.

We like to pretend that we're too busy to create connections and nurture relationships, that those things will take care of themselves. Wrong answer.

When I worked at Luck Stone Corporation, Charles Luck demonstrated the value of relationships constantly. Way back in the day, he and his dad used to hop in the car and drive to quarries in western Virginia. They'd have lunch together overlooking the quarry operation, then meander down and spend the afternoon talking to the employees who made their business run.

When I arrived at Luck Stone in 1996, Charles was ceding his own leadership to his son, Charlie -- and passing along the same lessons he learned with his dad: People matter. Let them know.

Charles would drop by my office every month or so, or stop in the parking lot to chat. He knew Nikole's name, and later Thea's, and asked after them. We'd compare notes on #RVA restaurants -- he and his wife, True, were fans of some great downtown spots. The day before I left Luck Stone, Charles spent an hour in my office just catching up, reminiscing, reminding me that I was appreciated -- during the toughest month of his business life, he was still making time to connect with others.

That visit meant so much to me. I hope my weekend escapes with Thea also have a lasting impact.

The Amazing Floricane Makeover

For the past several years, Floricane has happily shared space in a Federal-style walk-down on East Cary Street with our friends at Zeigler | Dacus Marketing. Happily, in the sense that I had a distinct office in which to work, periodically meet with my growing team or individual clients, and a physical address. Also, I really enjoyed the company of my office mates.

I was a bit surprised to discover that the rest of the team didn’t [heart] the space like I did.

Tina, who handles client and brand management for the business, recently volunteered to apply her magic touch to the space – to spruce it up and balance our feng shui.

And so it came to pass that one day I returned to a very different office environment – a  more open and inviting space, conducive to more collaborative interactions with my team, as well as the client interactions that are increasingly important for our small group.

I spent a large slice of a recent day working in the office. Throughout the day, members of the team dropped by to chat, touch base on projects, write thank you notes to clients and do their work. My office has been transformed into our office.

It’s pretty wonderful.

Making Richmond the American Destination of the 21st Century

When you think about it, there are few cities in this country who have played a substantial role in virtually every American moment – colonization and revolution; slavery and civil war and emancipation; industrialization and suburbanization. Richmond’s been in the mix, every time.

When you combine that deep, rich historical foundation with the churning natural backdrop of the James River, you have the main ingredients for a quintessential American destination. Add strong dashes of outdoor recreation, more than 1,000 restaurants, a powerful and eclectic arts community and easy access to the wider world by road, rail and air.

What you have is the recipe for the American destination of the 21st century.

That’s what the tourism vision plan we delivered to the Richmond Metropolitan Convention and Visitors Bureau (RMCVB) said.

Working with Peter Fraser – a design and brand strategist and frequent Floricane collaborator – we interviewed more than 150 key tourism stakeholders, dug into tourism best practices from other cities, and applied our own knowledge of Richmond and the surrounding region. Our final document provided RMCVB with a high-level roadmap – it is a visionplan, after all – toward a dramatic North Star for the region.

Changing the way our region considers its place in America’s future is as important as the work that remains in coming to terms with some of the darker chapters of our past. We’re excited about the opportunities that lie ahead for #RVA.

photo: ©Fraser Design on Flickr