Story

I went to a really long party. (How long was it?) It was 8 blocks long! (That makes no sense!) They closed down Newbury Street!! (BUT THAT’S DISRUPTIVE!!!) IT WAS AWESOME!!! (GET A HOLD OF YOURSELF, AND stop shouting – it’s your own blog.)

Last Thursday was Fashion’s Night Out. Newbury Street was closed down to make way for fancy cars parked outside of fancy clothing stores with fancy people prancing around wearing fancy clothes and looking all fancy. And really really important. And cool.

Random red carpet and bands on every block aside, it was fitting to strut into a pop-up store. I’m still not entirely sure what one of those is either, but I walked into one. There was an outfit that made tailored suits, a gal who made bow ties, and then there were the guys in the back.

Hey, wanna hear our story?

That worked. I was intrigued – somebody had a story to tell me (What’s special about that?) – it was their own story. These entrepreneurs were showing off their side business: colored collar stays. (How the heck do you see colored collar stays?) You see colored collar stays through holes in shirt collars. (Don’t say they were selling shirts with – ) And yes, they were selling shirts with cut-outs in the collars.

They were excited. They had samples – hand-painted prototypes. They had the sacred holey shirts. They had business cards. They had a website from which you could order this new-fangled thang they introduced into the world. They had smiles. They had pride.

I quietly listened to them play ‘show & tell’. You would, too. They were in the zone. They were sharing a story that was their very own. They wanted to leave their mark on the world. They wanted to leave their legacy. It started with a story.

What’s your story going to be?

Proof Of Concept

Got a grand idea? Is it… too grand? If you think it is, then you’re right: it is. This idea may be a vision, a Scrum story too large to tackle in one sprint – that’s why they’re called ‘epic’s. You think about the logistics for getting it done: you break the epic down into smaller stories. You do the Scrum thing, and now each story is independent, negotiable, valuable, ‘estimatable’, small/specific, and testable – all that good stuff. Yet, while they’re now small enough to tackle in a sprint, it might not do anything to increase your confidence level – you still can’t see this grand idea come to fruition.

Take some time to convince yourself – set up a story that is a proof of concept. Craft a story with a definition of done where you will be convinced that this seemingly lofty goal is indeed attainable.

Congrats – this is your Version One.

I see a couple of ways to set up stories towards an epic. You can start with the epic in all its grandiosity and dissect it into what are essentially building blocks: get this part of it done, then that part, where some of the later parts will build off of the previous ones. The problem with this is that you are working off of one version of the vision that does not allow for evolution. As you’re building up to this blueprint, what if the vision changes? Now you have stories done (components built) with a specific purpose in mind that might not be easily reused – waste.

The other way to eventually materialize this epic is to ‘get to done’ a version that is scaled down – a proof of concept. Scrum espouses shippable product at the end of the sprint, and I see this partially to the benefit of product development; the sooner the product ships, the sooner it can get into the hands of the user, the sooner feedback can be harvested and analysed, and the sooner we can get updated on how to keep building this product – if at all! Abandoning ship is always an option, and isn’t it much better to figure that out sooner rather than later? Steering the product in very different direction is also a decision that’s better to get to sooner rather than later.

Now, iterate. Take this Version One and incorporate feedback into the vision you’re building towards, the grand idea that may be evolving. This is how you take versions of ‘good enough’ to ‘great’.

Life Is Like A Burrito

You go to a party. You chat up the peeps. You talk small-talk: the weather, them Yankees, the Ebola virus. You are offered a shot. You take it: yarrghthhpffft. You then ask what was in it: cheap stuff. You are asked what you do for a living. You take note of the crowd. You make a decision.

You lie.

Face it. Saying you’re a biomedical engineer results in one of two things. With the right crowd, you’ll get into a discussion about biomechanics, tissue engineering, fascinating research, genetics, medical devices that measure your heart rate and how much oxygen you have in your blood and go ‘beep’, the latest biomedical thing you read online that’s hot, weird, funky, and/or cool. With the left crowd, you get a face of feigned, short-term interest, “Oh, cool…”

So, you lie.

You say your major was biomedical engineering and that you went to grad school for more pain – I mean – biomedical engineering. Now you work for Taco Bell. Taco Bell MSG. The Taco Bell Motivational Speaking Group. You take note of the crowd. You take note of the faces of incredulousness, raining confusion upon you, sprinkled with intrigue. You compare this to faces of feigned, short-term interest: this is better.

You explain to them that not too many people know about this group, besides the tight circle of motivational speakers, and that’s how you like it. You step them through what you are first taught, affectionately called the Central Little Dogma. You deliver this while channeling your inner Antonio Banderas. You step them through Antonio Banderas: rrroll yourrr ‘R’rrrs, rrremove all yourrr dipthongs, have all yourrr vowehls vehrrry clee-ehrrr, ahnd weespehrrr VEHRRRY LAH-OODLY. AH YEHSS.

You lay it on them thick, you charming devil, you.

Life is like a burrito. Life is like a burrito where you have full control of what you put inside your burrito. You can put in the tastiest components, the most delicious ingredients. Or, you can put in shit. It is up to you. You have full control of what you put inside your burrito. Now, it is not only important what you put inside your burrito, how much and the quality, but it is also important who you share your burrito with. For just as you may be having some burrito of that special somebody, you must think about the burrito you yourself will be sharing.

You stop here. You take note of the crowd. You take note of the giggles: this is good, this is better than faces of feigned, short-term interest. You are into it. You are in the zone. You can go on. You can go on because this lie is just so damn fascinating and saturated with silliness: perfect for parties, perfect for… life.

You will undoubtedly have somebody believe you, you charming devil, you.

You will undoubtedly start to believe yourself.

Listen To Your Body

I was on vacation for the first half of the last sprint. For the second half, I powered through stories worth more points than I’ve done in a full sprint! But I almost didn’t.

I have this beautiful desk that was effectively inaccessible due to suddenly stackable mounds of stuff on top of and below my bastion of productivity – so you should now get a sense of the fire under my butt to make the space more livable. After work, I’d come home and attack post-move remnants of chaos – the refugee motif is charming for only so long. Every square inch of recovered surface was a win, an emotion stackable in its own sense, like the points of complete stories I was racking up through the week back.

Steamrolling towards a vision of a home where I’m not stepping over a box, I couldn’t help but notice competing motivations. My own medicine was dangerous: seeing progress in physical form and especially on a burn down chart was contagious. Although I was eating and resting enough, I felt like I was still running on fumes: fumes of will power. With blinders on, my body was trying to get a word in, edge-wise:

Dude, veg out.

“Don’t be weak!” I scolded myself, “Marvel at all this reconquered space!”

Dude, you suck. I require a break.

“Don’t be weak,” I whispered to myself through my teeth as I carried on. Yet, who was I kidding? I just wasn’t as efficient. You’d think this concept of taking a break is a no-brainer, but when you’re driven, slowing down represents a step in the wrong direction.

Unnecessarily long story short, I took a breather, recharged will power, and started back up again at a decent clip. This a great example of an idea in Scrum and moral of the story: work at a sustainable pace. So listen to your body and don’t get to the point where you’re body is talking to you in italics.

Dude, thank you.

You’re welcome.