Getting to the Why
Here we are, December already. Isn’t it really, like, Thursday, March 386th? 2020 has been the Groundhog Day none of us could have predicted. I have days when I have no idea what I did, but think perhaps maybe I did the same thing I did the day before, but then maybe I didn’t; I can’t remember. It’s been a fog.
Like many, in moments of clarity, I reflect on the last 12 months and my experience of them. This year is hard to describe (aside, that is, from being a total dumpster fire). What was that? What did we do? What exactly happened? It is ironic this year is 2020 because truly, the hindsight it’s provided is second to none. For me, this was the year of unlearning and relearning, closing chapters and starting new ones. I didn’t want some of those chapters to close but sometimes we’re forced to choose between what’s right and what’s easy. I chose the former. It still stings, but that doesn’t mean it was the wrong choice.
And so now 2020 is ending, and here I am, six months in to a new business, aged 40 and a half, wading through a pandemic that seems to be close to an end, as does that Orange Cheeto in Chief on the other side of the Atlantic (this year hasn't been the only long year, people). The United Kingdom, my second home, is about to leave the European Union for… I’m not sure what… and so we head into 2021 with hopeful but weary eyes and hearts, desperate for something other than the four walls of our homes — if we were lucky to keep them this year — and the opportunity to hug those from whom we’ve been isolated almost a year.
One of the ideas that has permeated much of my thinking this year is the Why behind the reasons people do the things they do, both professionally and personally. It’s something I spend a great deal of time with my clients dissecting these days, because if we cannot articulate why we do what we do, how can we ever expect to be the drivers of our own existences and our companies. Simon Sinek’s Start With Why is an excellent book about this very thing. I won’t go into detail here because a simple Google will tell you the basics of what you need to know, but suffice to say that being able to stand up and say “this is why I exist” is maybe the most freeing thing I’ve discovered this year. It has given me purpose.
2020 gave me the opportunity to embrace my inner geek: I, Lindsay Faller, am fascinated by strategy and business; I love it. I find business theory interesting. I read business books for fun and listen to podcasts on leadership, marketing, strategy and find it riveting, all of it. Before this year, I used to do all of the above, but quietly, as if it was a guilty pleasure. In the creative industries, business and strategy are boring byproducts of a rigid and stale corporate world. Yet this year, I realised it is the opposite. Business can be a vivid and dynamic opportunity to create something that is both meaningful and commercial. And it is 100% creative.
15 years ago, when I started out in my career, I was always drawn to creative people and industries. Even my Masters is in History of Art instead of Fine Art (i.e. looking at what other people have created, instead of my own work). When I tried to do roles that were creative by their very definition, I always saddled into the role of business manager, willingly I might add. Up until recently, I thought I always aligned myself with makers and creators because I so desperately wanted to be a “creative” myself — an artist, a designer, a chef — but I clearly wasn’t, so the next best thing was to be the practical one alongside them. At least I could bask in their creative glow whilst I tinkered about with my spreadsheets and figured out how to shorten the number of aged debtors.
Then 2020 hit and everything went into a tailspin. My life went from regular travel between home in Amsterdam to my office in London to rarely leaving my apartment at all. Constant comms with my business partners morphed into a telling silence. While the whole world bolted itself indoors, I too shut down, unsure of anything and everything, yet knowing whatever it was it wasn’t this. I quit my job, feeling broken, hurt and frustrated. I turned 40 and gifted myself a six-week consultation with a business coach to work out what the hell I actually wanted to do next. It turned out to be one of the best decisions I’ve ever made (shout out to Tom Pinchard!).
Tom helped me define my values and get reacquainted with my professional worth. He helped me hone what I love to do whilst letting me grieve what I had lost. And he showed me what life could look like coming out the other side of all this metaphorical garbage I was sifting through. He helped me define a vision for myself. One day, I just said it out loud: “If I could help creative entrepreneurs be strategic about their business every day, I would do it.” Right then, it was as if a light went on, and I was able to finally see that my own creativity had always been there, humming away behind the scenes, in the creative businesses I sought to work. I looked back at my whole life and saw it was there all along. I wasn’t attracted to working with creative people because of them and their artistic ingenue. Rather, I loved building businesses for them. I was attracted to the work itself. I cook, I paint, and I build creative businesses.
I love figuring out the solutions to difficult problems. I love telling a designer’s story, or building teams that collaborate, support each other and work towards common goals. I bloody love tinkering about with Xero and financial planning. And all these things may sound dull from the outside, but when you’re working with creative people — architects, designers, artists, makers, chefs — what you’re doing is creating a foundational structure within which they can succeed. And that’s where I get my buzz.
It is my mission to help creative businesses thrive and grow. And for what it’s worth, I don’t think growth necessarily means literal growth in terms of staff. It could mean reputational growth, or financial growth, or even cultural growth. It is first and foremost about what a thriving, healthy business looks like for them. I’m incredibly passionate about this and 2020 is the year I’m owning it, yeah!
All this is my Why. I want everyone with which I work and collaborate to live fully so that they can fully live. Armed with this is purpose is how I am heading into 2021. I am relaunching the company in the first quarter as a fully-fledged agency, dedicated to consulting creative SMEs, looking for their why. Cloudfields will offer coaching, consulting, and one-off projects with the sole purpose of creating and nurturing functional creative businesses. 2020 has felt like the longest year, but it’s a year which has changed my life. I rediscovered my creative self and it’s a gift for which I shall eternally be grateful.
See you in 2021.
Lindsay Faller is a Business Strategist for the Creative Industries — see more at www.lindsayfaller.com
