Literary Canon or Literary Rubbish: I Read It All

I read a lot.  I always have.  Moreover, I read virtually everything.  I love the classics and comics.  I escape into spy novels and detective stories.  I am enthralled by science fiction and love short stories.  Fiction or non-fiction it doesn’t matter.  I learned to love the literary canon.  Realized I would never be a Twain or Austen, Vonnegut or Heinlein.  Kafka was prescient. Not me.  I even adore the atlas, old ones and new; side by side they teach one so much about our changing world.  I even read Playboy as a teen just for the articles.  Cross my heart!  The only thing my wife says I do not read are instructions, but we all know that is akin to a male asking for directions when he is lost.  It is genetically impossible.  So, that’s not my fault.

Now, I also read blogs from a great assortment of folks. Though, that is a tad risky, because everyone is an authority, pseudo or authentic; some with real worth, some worthless.  Of course, this is a blog, so I fall somewhere along the pseudo-authentic continuum too.  But this blog does not aspire to pillars of wisdom, or things you should do to improve yourself, or quaint anecdotes to store away for dinner conversation.  It is not even designed to build readership (though it should be) nor to sell ads or gain notoriety.  What it really is, is a blog about me and how I perceive the world and how that perception effects the way I think about things.  That’s all.  In fact, it is really not supposed to be a blog about what I think or feel, but more a way to bite off an interesting observation of what it is like to work for the Greater Impact Foundation.   It is just that I haven’t been able to think of a more creative way to do it other than to relate it back to my personal experience. Like right now.

Two days from now I will be in southwestern Uganda in the Kisoro District with Raising the Village, www.raisingthevillage.org, a very interesting enterprise trying to help villagers living way off the grid steeped in poverty; trying to do it in a sustainable way that empowers the villagers.  If all goes well we hope to welcome them into the GIF family.  If all goes well I might even see a gorilla or two.  This is the part of Africa where Dian Fossey did some of her seminal research before her untimely death in 1985.  I also have heard there are other types of guerillas seen in these parts.  I would be more than pleased not to bump into one of those.

By the way, I hate the word blog.  It is one letter away from blob and all I think about when I see the word blog is the movie, The Blob, the original which is a b-rated quasi-horror film from my childhood.   I hate horror films and by default horror stories unless it is the obsessed Mr. Poe.  I know Stephen King is a great writer, but I do not read his books for the same reason I do not watch horror films.  They give me nightmares.  So, I guess I do not read everything.

The Blessing of Insecurity

When I was younger, much younger, I was extremely insecure.  Maybe at that age it was raging hormones and the lack of experience that made me so.  But now that I am older, much older, I am still insecure. It might still be the hormones, or lack thereof, but I think not.  I have had my share of experiences, but nothing has changed.

When I was younger, maybe a need for approval from my peers and parents or simply my adolescent lack of self-identity was the underlying cause of my insecurity.  But now I am older; I know who I am, who I am not, and I really do not look to others for approval.  Yet, I still feel insecure. Tempered somewhat, but still there.  So, that can’t be it.

Maybe it is a feeling that I lack control of my own destiny.  Read the news and it is easy to feel that way.  Get on a plane.  Wonder if the pilot is angry at life.  Just don’t do it at 35,000 feet.  Go into a movie theatre in the U.S. to see a comedy and end up witnessing a real life tragedy.  End up in a traffic jam with someone behind you experiencing road rage.  Ride a packed New York City subway and here someone sneeze.  Spend time with the elderly whose conversation eternally revolves around disease, death and a broken medical system.   Listen to inept politicians.  These are good reasons to feel insecure; feel a lack of control.  But clearly a lack of control is not the reason.  Anyone who knows me, knows that. 

I did not really know much in my adolescence.  Who does?  I thought that the approval of others would affirm my self-image and subdue my insecurity.   It did not.  Smoldering underneath, it did not matter that my peers seemed to accept me.  Always there, in the back of my mind was this sense of inadequacy.   I am older and a little bit wiser now.  More than most, I have had my share of experiences, but that doesn’t seem to help. I still feel insecure.  And, while I hate the idea of the lack of control, it has never been a primary issue with me.  I am as close to a prepper as one can be without being obsessed.   So, what the heck is going on?  Is ignorance really the pathway to bliss and a sense of security?  I think not.

For me, the answer is straightforward.  I need to be insecure.  It is the driving force that pushes me forward.  It is not the kindling for the fire in my belly.  It is the fire.   It pushes me to board the plane not knowing the pilot, ignore the insane on the road (though I might comment out load to myself behind closed windows), ride the packed subway and take care of my health and ignore my age.  It drives me to just be prepared for the unexpected versus being afraid of the unknown.

You might ask, “Ken, what does this have to do with the Greater Impact Foundation?”  Well, maybe it is a stretch, but it seems that those that are over confidant, even defiant about their ability to succeed in circumstances largely stacked against them are the least likely to succeed and those that are constantly questioning their choices, constantly worried about intended outcomes, constantly seeking alternative paths to their endgame are the most likely to succeed and if that is not emblematic of insecurity I do not know what is.  Yes, there is a wisdom to those who are always questioning, always unsure that their choices are the best.  Do you have to be insecure to be like that?  Of course not! But it sure works for me.

What Changes You?

I am old enough to know better.  No matter how often I do something new like venturing into the unknown, I know the result could either be benign or even devolve into something quite terrible, even harrowing.  Nevertheless, I cannot help but become excited. It is irresistible.  Perhaps, I am a bit of a masochist, but I think not.  I just get a rush of adrenalin when something new is about to happen.  Why?  It is quite simple.  It changes me.  It seems to alter my DNA (figuratively speaking).  And, without fail, that change is a result of the people I meet or the places I experience, that always seem, in some symbiotic way, to transform me for the better.  Here are a few examples, not all, but they help make the point.

Nine years old. My parents sent me to sleep away camp in Kents Hill. Maine.  My first time away from home… alone, for the entire summer.  I wanted to go, but was certainly a little bit scared.  We drove to LaGuardia.  I was loaded onto an Eastern Airlines shuttle to Boston with a bunch of other scrawny kids, probably as scared as me.  My first flight.  Theirs too.  No one really talked.  No one knew anyone else.  Thinking back all I really remember is the kid next to me throwing up.  Then a bus ride to Maine on which I threw up.  Not an auspicious start.  I went to that camp on Lovejoy Pond for nine years.  Loved every minute, except for the first two hours, which frankly I forgot about other than to write this blog.  All I remember are the people at that camp who changed my life.  A big deal when you are nine.

Nineteen years old.  Drafted.  Vietnam War accelerating.  Lottery number 18.  I was going whether I wanted to or not unless I did something to avoid it.  I love my country, but did not think this war was just.  So, I sought a way out.  Fought the draft legally.  Eventually, went to Israel instead, again alone.  Worked on a Kibbutz doing hard labor in the fields.  Long ago I forgot about the trauma of being drafted, forgot about the hard labor in the fields.  I only remember the people and that kibbutz that changed my life again forever.

32 years old.  Again alone.  Divorced.  Working all of the time just to have enough money to stay afloat.  Walked into a bar on election eve I had never been in before and met my future wife.  Still today, I only remember the person who changed my life… again and forever.  The bar was forgettable.

62 now. More than three decades have passed since I met my bride.  I have been incredibly lucky over the years.  I have travelled extensively, as an itinerant, in relatively corporate comfort, on vacation with my family and friends.  Time has passed and I could go on forever about moments and people that have changed my life yet again, but this is a blog and I am already over the recommended word count.  I haven’t even begun to tell you how my kids transformed me when they were born as they still do today.  So, obviously, when I think back, what I really remember is not only the places I have been, but more so the people who changed my life.

So, again I am going on the road, headed back to Africa for the Greater Impact Foundation to reconvene with enterprises we already support and to conduct due diligence on three new opportunities in Uganda, Kenya and Ghana.  As I gear up, I do so with optimism. Why?  It is fairly straightforward.  I am expecting… no, I am sure, I will experience something new and meet someone who will again change my life.

Jean Paul Satre in his seminal play, No Exit, characterizes hell as other people, but he was an existentialist.  I do understand what he means, but for me the opposite is equally true, heaven is other people and heaven is right here on Earth.

What Defines Talent

Perhaps you have heard the adage that in times of crisis some people pass water, some tread water and some walk on water.  It does have a bit of a religious overtone, but it is also an apt description of first responders; those that in times of crisis run towards the challenge, not away.  It is also a common denominator emblematic of successful social impact entrepreneurs.

People are wired differently; that is fairly obvious.  Think, for a moment, about how some people spend their leisure time; laying on the beach reading a good book or climbing El Capitan solo.  Cruising the Mediterranean or trekking to Antarctica just because it’s there.  Successful social impact entrepreneurs we observe are the doers, like the rock climber traversing a sheer vertical wall, or trekker tackling Antarctica’s harsh climate.  The common denominator? Unrelenting tenacity.

Yet, tenacious people often believe that they can and must do everything by themselves to be successful, even if they lack some of the expertise required to do it.  So, they tenaciously pursue solutions that frequently lead to a dead end.  However, when tenacious people with positive self-esteem recognize that reaching out for support is a strength, not a weakness, results improve dramatically.  Dead ends are circumvented, solutions are implemented efficiently.  Progress accelerates.  This combination of drive and self-esteem in the leadership of social impact enterprises is a spectacular combination. 

We at GIF know that in the end that talent is the key to success and we mean talent that is driven, self-assured and wise enough to surround him or herself with others with the same drive, the same self-esteem and the knowledge and skills that complement their own.  The sum of the parts is clearly greater than the whole.

The environment of a social impact enterprise focused on poverty eradication is unforgiving.  Little to no infrastructure, extreme weather, political shenanigans, language barriers and cultural idiosyncrasies are just a few of the challenges faced by organizations endeavoring to do the right thing.  It is not easy.  Those organizations that are making measurable progress are far more likely to face the challenges head on, pushing forward, playing and testing hypothesizes with a persistence regardless of their own personal needs. They do not give up.

I was fortunate early in my career to be invited to a team building seminar.  Naturally jaded (I am a native New Yorker) I thought, at the outset, that I would be taught well intentioned approaches to team building only to return to the daily grind, get caught up in the inevitable fire drills and then revert to the old way business was being done.  But, I was wrong.  The very first day the attendees were split into groups and given a life threatening problem to solve.  It was a revealing exercise.  The team was on a plane that ended up flying off course and then crashed in the desert.  Everyone survived (even the cynical New Yorker) and we salvaged twenty items from the wreckage.  The moderator asked us to do two things.  First, individually rank the salvaged items in order of importance for survival.  Then, second, do the same thing as a group.   Remarkably, everyone who ranked items individually ended up dead in the desert before rescuers arrived.  Everyone who worked together survived.

I have never forgotten this lesson that, in fact, was based upon a true story.  Ever since that day I have always tried to work collectively recognizing that others often brought perspectives to the table that made the team stronger.  It seems like a no brainer.  But, the workplace can be very fickle.  Fickleness in the unrelenting challenging environment of social impact enterprises tackling poverty can be life threatening.  The enterprises will fail. Progress on poverty will be set back. 

Run towards the danger.  Bring like-minded people with you.  Embrace ideas from others.  Walk on water.

The Folly of Fuzzy Metrics

Measure it and it will get better.  It is a common mantra in business and it is true.  True, undoubtedly, if what you are measuring is meaningful. No less critical, in fact, more critical is what data is measured.  Otherwise, I think we can all agree the results may be useless, or even dangerous, driving decisions that actually damage businesses.  Narrow online surveys are excellent examples.  So are the post-customer service surveys we are often asked to complete after what has been a painful, excuse my directness, infuriating experience dealing with a customer service call center.  Oh, one longs for the days when a sassy telephone operator like Lily Tomlin answered your phone. At least that was comedic.

Rate something on a scale of one to five, or one to ten.  Fill in a bubble.  Provide a number.  No nuance.  Often meaningless or irrelevant questions, or at least meaningless or irrelevant relative to your personal experience.  I do not mean to be a skeptic, but who in the world is interpreting that data at the phone and cable companies?  And, haven’t we often heard that research can be manipulated to deliver whatever outcome desired?  Let’s be honest, if research is genuinely intended to provide data to glean insights to foster improvement, is a one-fits-all approach the best way to do it?  Or, the most expeditious and economical?  My apologies for the cynicism.

Imagine a personalized approach!  Better yet, imagine an organization that values feedback so much that it is as important in the P & L as getting your cost of goods sold right.  Imagine an organization that does this at all points in the value chain.  I am not a gambler, but I would bet that organizations that truly value research regardless of cost are the most successful ones in the marketplace. 

A company I did some work with called Moving Mentor out of Amherst, Massachusetts does remarkable personalized research to determine the best course of action to help elderly people who are facing life changing choices such as moving from their home; their castle, to a continuing care facility, a strange unknown environment, many with both positive and negative reputations.  When introduced to a potential client they actually spend the time to visit them in their homes.  They often say very little, ask few questions and spend most of their time listening and observing the client and their surroundings.  This practice of listening and observation reaps remarkable personalized information that enables Moving Mentor to prepare a plan for their client that actually helps them make the best decision for themselves.  And, guess what, it takes time, energy and money to do this.  Are you listening cable and wireless companies?  Better yet, political pollsters, are you listening, observing, spending the time at your expense to gather data that is truly meaningful?  I do not wish to be painting anyone with a broad brush, but when employee and customer churn rates never really diminish, especially if you do research as a regular part of doing business, doesn’t it make you scratch your head?

At GIF, we have enormous respect for the right kind of research and we would encourage every enterprise to think about it from day one, maybe even before day one.  For us, baseline market research is mandatory; rhythmic follow up equally important; personal observations and skilled listening at the end user level no less so.  We know that the enterprises that do this; make it part of their DNA are likely to succeed.  These are the types of enterprises we love to support.

I Don't Write For You

Ever since I started blogging on behalf of the Greater Impact Foundation www.greaterimpactfoundation.org  I have received many comments, positive and otherwise.  I enjoy the feedback. It helps me focus.  Makes my writing better.  However, one comment, in particular, hit a discordant note.  The writer basically said that it doesn’t seem that my missives are written for or to anybody but myself.  I think he was trying to be constructively critical, saying that it seems like I’m talking to myself in the mirror, which, I admit, I have a tendency to do.  I cannot deny that.  More directly, I think he was saying that if I want to build an audience for the website I need to write about things people want to read about.  That comment raised my ire.  If you don’t want to read what I write about, then don’t.  I tell my friends who rale at incendiary pundits, just turn off the TV.  It is that easy. 

I am not a newsman.  Nor am I a correspondent.  I am not a professional writer.  Nor am I at all interested in hits, clicks, sound bites, CPMs, appeal to advertisers or basically anything on this big blue marble that seems just a tad patronizing just to attract an audience.  So, I guess I am guilty, I do not write for you.

E.L. Doctorow, bless his sole, did not write for me.  But The Book of Daniel which I read decades ago still reverberates with me today.  I am fairly certain that those that still annually visit Edgar Allen Poe’s grave know that he did not write for them, even though they all feel touched by the dark potency of his pen.  In fact, I know of no one embraced in the literary canon who gave a shit about anything but what interested them, not you, not me, and certainly not anyone who put pen to paper to speak of what most engaged themselves.  It may sound blasphemous but I do not think even Mr. Trump, our current national court jester would write for anyone but himself.  That is, if he could write at all.  

I know my writing is less than stellar.  I know my subjects are narrow and personal.  I know that is the truth, nevertheless, I write because I cannot express myself verbally as well as I would like.  It is my default mechanism.  Yoga is an escape for some, as is running to free one’s endorphins.  Writing is an escape for me, however brief, and I know it creates a conundrum.  The writing I do for the Greater Impact Foundation blog lets me express myself, allowing a little time for reflection, but I am also expected to expand my audience to make people aware of the great work the Foundation does.  It also lets me talk about the wonderful organizations like Sistema Biobolsa  www.sistemabiobolsa.com  in Mexico, Edom Nutritional Solutions https://www.facebook.com/edomsolutions in Kenya, Good Weave www.goodweave.org in Nepal, and Food for the Poor www.foodforthepoor.org everywhere.  So, I guess I have to modify my approach or just make a plea to my readers to like, share, comment, forward or just shout from the roof tops that this blog is worth the two minutes it takes to read. 

Hopefully, I am mildly entertaining along the way.  Hopefully, you will value the content.  Maybe, you will even be motivated to follow GIF www.greaterimpactfoundation.org to learn more about the enterprises and entrepreneurs we work with, or even get involved.  That would be awesome.

To Choose or Not to Choose

I know no one who dislikes Robert Frost’s iconic poem, The Road Not Taken.  In it the narrator ruminates over which of two similar yet divergent roads he should travel knowing he is unlikely to ever return to see where the other might lead. What might he be missing?  They appear to be about the same, but the narrator must choose or remain “cosmopic,” or unable to choose, as Jacob Horner, John Barth’s protagonist suffers in one of my favorite books, The End of the Road.  For me, both the poem and the novel are compelling.  Both have become, over the years, fundamental to how I think about my own future and my decision-making.

Things go horribly wrong for Jacob Horner.  He chooses. He acts and the outcome is tragic.  Frost’s narrator chooses as well, but ponders in the fall of his life in that “yellow wood” what he may be missing.  But, indeed, he chooses.  Will he, like Jacob Horner, discover tragedy?  Or, as he tries to peer around the bend in the road ahead to glimpse his future will he discover something uplifting?  The narrator does not know, so he quietly laments that he will likely never know if the other road would have been a better choice. Nevertheless, like Jacob Horner, he too chooses.

To choose or not to choose?  To remain catatonic or act not knowing what the outcome will be?  Fear the future or embrace the unknown?  It is risky as Jacob Horner finds out.  Yet, the alternative, to do nothing is just as risky. This is why The Road Not Taken resonates.  Yes, the other road may be better, but it might be worse as well.  But, doing nothing offers no hope.  Choose a path.  Embrace whatever you face.  Use the experience to strengthen your character and when the road diverges again choose without regret knowing at the end is a different you, a better you.

How do I know this is true?  Because like you, my entire life has been a road taken or not. I have been formed by the experience of choosing and my individuality has been preserved.  I am better for it.  Today, I can ask for no better road to be on than the one with the Greater Impact Foundation.  In the 1970s I had to make a choice between teaching in Cali, Colombia and joining the circus (that is another story.)  I chose the latter, but often wondered what might have been.  I cannot help but think four decades later that I would have missed the opportunity to work on behalf of the Foundation had I chosen the former.   Perhaps another choice would have still lead to where I am today.  I do not know.  But, I am where I am and I love it.  The opportunity to positively impact those in greatest need is the most gratifying endeavor I have ever undertaken.  Life is full of choices.  Choosing wisely is often difficult when one cannot see around the bend, when one is not clairvoyant.  But, acting, making choices has proven that whatever road one chooses can lead to a better place. 

I Don't Do Selfies

I used to joke that if I was truly self-aware and capable of it, the day I was born I would have never allowed anyone, doting parents and grandparent, relatives of any ilk, friends at a beer fest, the DMV, any school I ever went to producing annual yearbooks, anyone at all, to take my picture.  Then and only then when I was old enough to be self-aware could I set out on a life of Robin Hood-like crime as a faceless cat thief in the night never to be caught on camera, on the pathway to creating the myth behind the mysterious criminal who was anonymously into redistributing wealth without permission.  Books would be written, movies made, stories told around campfires as the lore grew.  A human Bigfoot, a loch ness monster, a real alien, a wisp in the night with a cause everyone could understand, a cause celeb, a cause that all, but the rich could believe in.  That’s a lot of people.

I can hear the conversations of those who were robbed.  I can hear the timbre in the voices of those that were beneficiaries.  Of course, I could be right there listening because no one knows that I am the one behind it all.

 “Who is this person?  Certainly not the Lone Ranger.  Nor Batman.  They all wear masks.  They all have alter egos that are necessary to know for their storyline to work.”

“Is he a man or woman, old or young, beautiful or ugly?  Maybe not even human.  Maybe spectral.”

Of course, I grew up before I ever thought of this diabolical strategy.  “Drat,” as Snidely Whiplash would say, “foiled again.”  What addled mind would waste his valuable time thinking of such a plan?  Me, I guess, because in my mind redistributing wealth, especially to those in greatest need is worth the risk.  God would approve.  He might even help.  I could be “God’s Thief.”  I could be blessed.

There, by the grace of God goes the mind of a man-child, which is a moniker I am proud to wear in spite of the foolishness of it all.  And, because I am not that bright, by the grace of God, I have learned that this notion of redistributing wealth can be done legitimately.  It can be done intelligently.  It can be done sustainably.  It can be done anywhere.  It is just not called wealth redistribution.   It is embodied in the for-profit, non-profit social impact foundations and those they support who have recognized that there is a way to help those in the greatest need.

I did not join the Greater Impact Foundation to become a Hollywood-like lovable high class cat thief    do-gooder.  I joined because of a personally compelling desire to do something righteous absent the baggage of righteousness.  To help those in need by working within the system with likeminded folks to have a lasting impact.  I am still not a selfie taking personality, but it is a joy to stand next to those who work so hard to help others.  There are many.  Just focus the camera on them.  Take their picture.  Publish their stories.  I am happy to bask in the glow of their greatness outside the eye of the camera.  There is where I find joy.

A Modest Proposal...Again

Today, almost 300 years after being published, Jonathan Swift’s A Modest Proposal remains an icon of absurdist satire.  In it, he skewers the Irish and English governments behind the narrative voice of an esteemed economist who argues that the problem of poverty in Ireland can best be remedied by selling the children of the poor as food for the wealthy.  Surely all would benefit; food for the rich, money for the poor; except the poor children of course.  The perfect solution to the dilemma of hunger and poverty and over population.  Swift leverages great literary skill to prick contemporary economics and culture and the utter lunacy of the ideologies of that era.  An early 18th century Jon Stewart if you will.

It is worth noting, Swift’s brief, but powerful thesis was largely overlooked until the twentieth century.  In spite of that, progress on poverty eradication has been made, even if, seemingly shrouded in the background, pushed to the rear of everyday middle class life.  The subject is not a daily news item, thought it should be.  Poverty rates have declined, but the absolute numbers have continued to climb. There is an intense focus on poverty eradication, yet population growth coupled with cultural and ideological issues, not unlike those that haunt us today, create a cyclonic headwind that seems daunting.  So, let’s go to school again and revisit Swift’s thesis for the 21st Century.  Maybe, it can inform us another way.

Economic cannibalism for the good of all as advanced by Swift leads me to the thesis that climate change leading to rising oceans and imminent disaster, along with ideological jihad of any stripe have been overlooked as vehicles for good, not unlike feeding children of the poor to the wealthy in 1729. 

Imagine, left unfettered how quickly the absolute rate of poverty will decline.  Climate change deniers living near the coasts transformed into ocean food jetsam from rising tides will spell the end the dwindling food resources of our oceans because of over population.  Ideologues on shore will eliminate wasteful allocation of land based resources for the rest of us by weeding out the undesirables.  Not just the one per centers.  Maybe, the one to five per centers.  What luck, five X one might expect in today’s world.   Net, net, more for the hungry rich, though they too will be victims in the end. Those subsisting at the BOTBP (Bottom of the Billionaires Pyramid) are at risk.  Maybe even the first to go.  The absolute number of poor will decline.  Hurrah!  As will the census for the rich. More resources will be available to whomever is left.  If any!  Sooner or later, with no one left to bully, er, I mean convert to the ideology of the century.  They will have to self-destruct.  Sort of like martyring oneself.  How ironic.  The proverbial Garden of Eden will flourish once more.  No one will be here to revel in it except the innocent non-human.  But, poverty will be gone, radical ideology will have no voice, riches will be worthless and God can hit the reset button.  

Ten Secrets to Success

Years ago I came across a brief list in the Investor’s Business Daily titled Ten Secrets to Success.  It resonated, so I cut it out, laminated it and pinned it to my bulletin board as a reminder, a refresher course in how to think about life, not just in business, but personally as well.  It has been on my board for decades and its veracity has never wavered.  Except for number ten they rank in no particular order.

1.      How you think is everything:  Always be positive.  Think success, not failure.  Beware of a negative environment.

2.      Decide upon your true dreams and goals:  Write down your specific goals and develop a plan to reach them.

3.      Take action:  Goals are nothing without action.  Don’t be afraid to get started.  Just do it.

4.      Never stop learning:  Go back to school or read books.  Get training and acquire skills.

5.      Be persistent and work hard:  Success is a marathon, not a sprint.  Never give up.

6.      Learn to analyze details:  Get all the facts, all the input.  Learn from your mistakes.

7.      Focus your time and money:  Don’t let other people or things distract you.

8.      Don’t be afraid to innovate: Be different:  Following the herd is a sure way to mediocrity.

9.      Deal and communicate with people effectively:  No person is an island.  Learn to understand and motivate others.

10.   Be honest and dependable; take responsibility:  Otherwise, Nos. 1- 9 won’t matter.

Consistently acting on this advice is a challenge.  Sometimes life just gets in the way and it takes incredible will to stay on course; remaining true to your beliefs.  I decided to include the list here on the Greater Impact Foundation blog  because it occurred to me that the challenges faced by for-profit social enterprises striving for success under extremely difficult conditions demands a reserve of energy and reinforcement unlike what one might find in a stable home and business.  Remaining true to one’s beliefs is that much harder.  These ten tenets resonate as much, if not more, for those who often operate in unforgiving environments where  seemingly insurmountable obstacles are commonplace and there is no such thing as a level playing field.  Without structure, without great people, without a vision and a plan, success remains elusive.  Combined with the muscle of these tenets success feels more within one’s grasp.

These tenets have served me well, but I am sure that there are others to add.  I would love to hear our readers’ thoughts.  Join the dialogue.