Start well, finish better, but what happens in the middle matters

It's often said: "Start the way you mean to continue".

The way we start something is definitely important. And perhaps equally important is how we finish.

As a musician, we'd often talk about how important it was to get the introduction and ending of a song sounding fantastic. After all, that's all that anybody really remembers at the end.

And the drum solo. No-one forgets the dummer's thirty seconds of fame.

But this is in the context of live music. In live music, the audience is present to the moment of creation, and arguably participates in creating much of the experience themselves.

It's a different story with recorded music.

Recorded music allows us to listen again and again to a song on repeat. In listening over and over again, we can discover our favourite moment buried deep somewhere in the fourth chorus of the eleventh track on the third album. Once we've found our moment, the purpose of the recorded introduction is to be a trigger, a reminder, a promise of the good stuff we know is coming.

What about when we're building a house?

When we're making something that will last.

Making something that someone is going to spend time in. Time living in. Time living with.

Starting well is undoubtably important. And the finish, the way things are left, matters.

But the middle sections, the work that is done, the main body of work that remains with the owner long after the creators are gone, that matters too.

Good homes - well designed, well built, well finished homes - should leave the possibility open that the best bit is not just walking in on the first day, but something discovered in the midst of living in the home. Discovered as we are present in the home. As we participate in turning a house into a home by the act of living in it.

Good homes bring a blend of the live performance where we engage and contribute to the creation of space and goodness, and the permanance of the recorded track, where we can discover our own distinct key moments in which to linger.

Good homes, well designed, property thought out, and well lived in, can become like that favourite piece of music, that ideal album where the popular title track fades in significance over time, leaving us with those moments that mean the most to us.

Nothing but a carrot

We all have something to offer. We can all contribute something.

And we all want to.

Having nothing isn't just a practical survival issue. When you often receive from others, and rarely have an opportunity to give, it's hard to feel like you have anything to offer. And it's hard to see how your presence and time matters.

The solution? Or at least one solution? How about a community garden.

For those without many options, community gardens can be a space where they can contribute their time and there presence, and see meaningful change after even half an hour of work.

And more that this, there is the opportunity for generosity. To share the fruit of your labour with others.

To give a carrot to a toddler. An act of hospitality and generosity so simple, yet potentially so restorative.

Dignity maintained. Mana enhanced. With nothing but a carrot.

Work hard, work fast, work together.

We've become obsessed with being busy, and lost sight of being productive.

A building company reduced staff hours from 45 hours per week to 38 hours per week, with no change in annual pay, and didn't have a blip on the bottom line.

A well functioning team can be many hundreds of times more productive than a poorly functioning team. Whereas the most efficient worker is only going to be ten times more productive than your least efficient worker, at best.

Think about the last design team on your building project, or the workgroup you sit with, or the subcontractor who installed your plumbing. How do they rate on the "effective team" scale?

We've lost sight of the benefits of intensive work and traded it in for long hours of solo drudgery.

How much more productive could we be if we spent less time working?

How would the construction industry change if we all learnt how to work hard, fast, and together?

We might build more, better, for less.

Which sounds like a piece of the solution to our housing crisis...

If you don't like it, change it!

I'm curious about something:

How come we look to tried and true methods to solve problems with the status quo?

The solutions to the broken system are going to come from outside. From another way of seeing the world. From another way of being in the world.

Or at least, they'll be inspired from somewhere we haven't seen before.

Unhappy with housing affordability? Why not reduce your costs? Here's a few thoughts on how:

• Buy a smaller house
• Buy a house with other people
• Buy in a different neighbourhood
• Sell your car and bike to work
• Flat with people to save a bigger deposit
• Stop dining out three times per week
• Don't go shopping every week
• Cook your own food

In short: Don't assume that home ownership needs to look the way you think. The home, the ownership, and the owner can all change.

The cost of belonging

When we know someone, we miss them when they're gone.

When we are known, we're missed when we're gone.

Imagine if our neighbourhoods were places of knowing and being known. 

Places where we were missed.

Places we belong.

Where we belong because we live there.

Belonging and community are buzzwords these days, and are held up as attractive ideals for our lives. But let's not gloss over the cost of belonging, the cost of community. Let's not imagine that it comes for free, forms without deliberate action, is created on purpose.

The value of feedback

Some of who we are is hidden to us. And some of what is hidden to us, is seen by others.

That's why feedback works. That's why feedback is essential to growth. That's why feedback initiates change.

How many feedback loops are there in your life?

How many feedback loops are there in our building industry?

And is anyone actually listening?

If we're seeking to change the property problem, if we're asking for insight, if we're looking for new and better, we could do worse than starting with feedback.

If the industry has the solution, and knows what the solution, it's either unable or unwilling to deliver. 

Or if the industry has the solution, but doesn't know it, feedback is essential.

Trial and Error v2.0 is called Action/Reflection

How often do we pause to take stock at the completion of a project? To reflect on the process, the people and product. To search for lessons to learn. And then embed those lessons in the next project.

How often do we change?

Making time to identify, solve and implement opportunities for continual, incremental improvement is critical if we want to try and keep pace with the world. And it's even more critical if we're seeking to make a difference, to deliver something new, to do something better than the status quo. To do more than meet spec, we need to challenge and improve the specification itself.

This is not a case of trial and error. We do this by design. We do this on purpose. We do this because we know we've never nailed it. Because there's always more to learn.

Trying is necessary, because otherwise we'll just talk. 

But reflection is necessary, because otherwise we're wasting our try.

Do collaborative design

Because not one of us has the answer.

But all of us have an answer.

And we've all got questions.

"Why do the windows have to be different sizes?"

"What is this space being used for?"

"What about when I get older?"

"Can we make it simpler to build?"

"Do you really need a walk in wardrobe?"

"How much will we save on power bills?"

Innovation killers

Building good homes isn't expensive. The price reflects what a home worth living in costs.

If the cost is too much for some people to afford, the answer isn't to give up and keep building poor houses. Instead, reflect on what is driving up costs, and look around to see who else might be benefitting from having a healthier, more connected society who could (and possibly should) contribute to costs.

Doing good isn't expensive, its necessary.

Design delivers purpose, for good or otherwise

I'm a fan of good design. Of all kinds.

Interior design. Landscape design. Urban design. Architecture. Graphic design.

Design is creation with intent and purpose.

What is created embodies the purpose of the designer, and effects the environment around it accordingly.

Where we live affects how we live.

• If we have a six foot fence, we're less likely to get to know our neighbours. Because we're less likely to see them.
• If we have a 300 square meter house, we're more likely to buy more stuff. Because we have the space.
• If we have a double garage, we're more likely to have two cars. And probably even more likely to keep more junk.
• If we live close to work, we're more likely to walk or bike.

And we haven't even thought about how the inside of our house is designed and laid out, and how that affects the way we live together.

Design matters. Because it changes us.

What is the purpose behind your house?

Most of the houses being built seem to be built to-spec, not built for people. The purpose lies somewhere between making money for the developer, and looking appealing to the market, which really means the same thing.

The purpose isn't to build a home that is good for the people who will live there. It's to build a home that looks like what people want, so we can sell it at a good price.

Build a Good Home vs Get a Good Price

While we might strive for both, I suspect the latter is the priority for most people in the business of designing our new subdivisions.

Push Pause Part VI - The Reality Reference Check

I've pushed pause on the usual blog posts to make space to reflect on some questions. This post is the final in the series, Part VI.

If you want to make a difference in the world, or feel like you're not sure what to do with your vocational life, you might like to look back at the questions and ponder your own answers.

Rawa.

What's in your hands?

And is it enough?

It is possible? Has anyone with my resources every pulled off anything like this?

Firstly, what are my resources?

• Engineering degree.
• Professional experience in a high-performing consulting firm.
• A small amount of cash.
• Confidence/Optimism.
• Insatiable appetite for learning.
• Supportive community and family.
• Varied reading/research.

An incomplete and inaccurate list, to be sure.

But what is clear is that my most valuable resource is time, because time is finite, and scarce.

And there's a highly competitive market for my time.

Who else has been in a similar situation?

I really don't know! 

So here's some takeaways

1. Do some research to find out what people with similar resources to me have done. Find out their stories.
2. Do a resource map to look at what I have available and how they overlap and connect.

Push Pause Part V - Is it important?

I've pushed pause on the usual blog posts to make space to reflect on some questions over the next week or so. This post is Part IV of VI.

If you want to make a difference in the world, or feel like you're not sure what to do with your vocational life, you might like to follow along and answer these questions for yourself. 

Whaihua.

No pain, no gain, or so the saying goes.

But our energies and efforts are a finite resource.

So we have to wonder: It is even worth it?

It’s easy to say that making the world a better place is worthwhile. But it’s harder to say whether the current project is worth it.

So lets get back to property, just for a bit.

Does an attempt to do property differently, to buck the system, to rebuild property ownership, development, and design justify the risk and effort I’m prepared to put in?

tl;dr: Probably.

Here's why:

1. There is a significant wealth gap in New Zealand. A large amount of the nation’s wealth is held in property. Inequality is a national issue, and the majority of us are on the right side of the property/wealth equation. A shift in how property works may be a piece of the solution to the problem of our national inequality.
2. We have a massive mental health issue in New Zealand. Call it a crises, call it an epidemic, what it means is that more of us are affected by poor mental health. It might impact us personally, our family, or our workplace. Security of accommodation, a scarcity mindset and lack of social connection apply downward pressure on the health of people. All these things are tied to property.
3. We are all seeking community. The most inclusive community is one that is not defined by demography, interest, or social status, but by geography. Neighbourhoods are the places where everyone can belong, because we all live somewhere. Therefore how we live together in our neighbourhoods is important. Not to mention addressing the issue that some people don’t have a place to call home at all.
4. Communities are built around people who commit, who stay, who provide stability for those who come and go. They know the stories, they hold the vision, they remain when others leave. The more people like this we have, the stronger our communities will be. And the more support these people have on a day-to-day, week-to-week, year-to-year practical on-the-ground basis, the better. Staying requires a place to stay in that can adapt, change, sustain and grow.
5. Our relationship with the planet needs to change. And that starts at home, with how we relate to the dirt we live on.

Alternative property ownership, development and design is a high-risk, high-reward project, to be sure. The only mitigation I’ve got it to start small, learn as we go, and move as fast as possible while taking others with me.

Push Pause Part IV - Put the work in

I've pushed pause on the usual blog posts to make space to reflect on some questions. This post is Part IV of VI.

If you want to make a difference in the world, or feel like you're not sure what to do with your vocational life, you might like to follow along and answer these questions for yourself.

Back to the mahi.

The work.

The effort.

Meaningful work requires effort. In seeking to make a change, we are attempting to bring something new into the world.

Creation requires effort. And sometimes, creating something takes our all.

Whakapau kaha.

How much work am I willing to do to bring something new into the world? What am I willing to give up, to tradeoff for the change I seek?

A non-negotiable for me is living an authentic lifestyle that is grounded in the same sentiment, attitude and values that drives the work I seek to do. Changing the way we live in the world means nothing if I am not working towards a different way of live myself. This is not only a matter of integrity, it is a key factor in grounding abstract, theoretical ideas of doing good, and actually doing something that does some good.

Proximity matters. Proximity to the people I seek to engage with matters. 

Change should be done with, and for, not to.

Another priority is family, But again, I am willing (and seeking) to relinquish traditional (modern) notions of what it looks like to be a family where it is in service of an authentic lifestyle and bringing about the change I seek to create. Shared living is a key part of this. As well as keeping expenses low, living with others enriches our family life, our personal relationships, and is a significant practical help with looking after children. All of this frees us, frees me to engage more fully in the meaningful life-work.

Shared living also brings it's strange security. My capacity for risk increases, because I know that I am grounded in a community that will support me. We strive together for a common purpose, with each of us on our own journey, carving our own path. 

I am willing to trade a successful, stable, lucrative career to pursue opportunities that align with purpose. I am willing to negotiate challenges in relationships as a result of how my choices are perceived. I am willing to stay at the table with people who disagree, in an effort to learn, understand and grow. I am willing to apologise when I am wrong. I am willing to be vulnerable. 

I think changing the world is as much about the things we're willing to put aside as the work we're willing to put in.

There is effort in personal change and sacrifice as well as productivity.

Push Pause Part III - Skin in the game

I've pushed pause on the usual blog posts to make space to reflect on some questions over the next week or so. This post is Part III of VI.

If you want to make a difference in the world, or feel like you're not sure what to do with your vocational life, you might like to follow along and answer these questions for yourself.

Turaru

Risk.

Life involves risk.

Change requires it.

If it were a sure thing, if there was zero risk, anyone could do it, and everyone who wanted to would.

So when we're looking at our lives, at the work we want to do, at who want to engage with, and at the change we want to see, what are we willing to put on the table?

How much risk? How much am I willing to put at stake to make the change I seek?

At the top level, the lifetime level, I'm essentially willing to stake my life on it. What could be more worthwhile to spend a life on? 

Lifetime given in service to others - 10/10, 100% risk.

On a project-by-project, item-by-item basis, it depends.

I guess, I'm forming together an approach to the work, the mahi, of my life that allows me to continue to give more to it. I reduce the risk of each step by developing some guidelines for how the work is done, that allows me to risk more on each project.

As the risk of failure reduces, I risk more of myself on it. Which means the impact of a failure is greater, but is less likely to happen.

And failure does not mean that a specific target isn't achieved. A key guidelines is that a project failure is not a failure of the work if there is something to learnt.

In summary: On a project with a high chance of being a waste of time, I will risk very little of myself, and spend my energies in other ways in pursuit of the life and world I seek to live in.

On a project with a high chance of being pulled off, of seeing change happen, I will risk much more of myself, and give more of my energies to seeing it happen.

Practically: The things of my life which are not (yet) aligned with the work I want to do, the change I wish to see and the people I seek to work with, are 100% up for grabs, when the opportunity presents itself.

Push Pause Part II - Who is this for?

I'm pushing pause on the usual blog posts to make space to reflect on some questions. This post is Part II of VI.

If you want to make a difference in the world, or feel like you're not sure what to do with your vocational life, you might like to follow along and answer these questions for yourself.

He aha te mea nui o te ao
He tangata, he tangata, he tangata

We want good things for everyone. But we can't impact every person. We're finite beings, with finite time.

We have to choose who we focus on. Who we bias our energy towards. Who's interests we prioritise.

Who do I want to affect, and how do I want to impact them?

• Those who are overlooked, misunderstood, excluded and marginalised. Those who are seen as unlovely in society's eyes. I want them to be seen, to be understood, to experience belonging, to contribute, to love and be loved.
• I want to change myself. I want to unpick my unconscious biases, to be affected by the world around me, and to continue to understand what it means to love, and to practice loving.

Push Pause Part I - What is my work?

I'm pushing pause on the usual blog posts to make space to reflect on some questions over the next week or so. This post is Part I of VI.

If you want to make a difference in the world, or feel like you're not sure what to do with your vocational life, you might like to follow along and answer these questions for yourself.

Mahi

The work you do.

Not the job you have.

What is the work I want to do?

• Work that makes a change in the world. For good.
• Work that, when complete, leaves space for others to continue and grow the good work.
• Work that continues to grow and develop me. I thrive when I am learning.
• Work that draws together disparate ideas, skills, people, concepts etc that are usually seen as separate. Connection
• Work that leads to something new. The best projects are those that cannot be done, that produce something that hasn't been seen, that aren't sensible.
• Work of excellent quality, that continually improves. Substandard work devalues everyone.
• Work that is necessary. Work that leads to action, rather than producing an unnecessary part of a wasteful system.
• Work that values my unique contribution as a person more than my technical skills and knowledge. So that I can bring my background, interests, experiences and relational connections into the room.
• Work that aligns with my purpose in life: To make a positive and lasting change, especially for those for whom change is most urgently needed.
• Work that is centred around people. That views people as integrated elements of a global system that is ecological, economic, political, mystical, and fundamentally deeply relational.

How do we know what we really need?

Ever overdone something? Too much to eat. Ran too far. Stayed up too late. Took on too much work. Spent too much money.

We're not very good at knowing what we need.

We know what we want, and we know how we've got it in the past.
We know what we're supposed to have, and how other people have got it before.
We know what someone else has, and we've assumed we need it too.

It sounds like this:

"We need to move out of this two-bedroom apartment into a three bedroom house because we're having our second baby"

"We need to buy a house in this area because the school is better"

"I need to get my own place, because I'm nearly 30"

Notice how we often use the word 'need' when we really mean 'want'.

Really, really, really wanting something to the point where not having it is painful, still isn't a need.

Do we really need an extra bedroom? A second ensuite?

Do we really need to live in that neighbourhood? On that street?

Do we really need to live with those people? Or without them?

Do we really need a double garage?

Try going without, and see what happens.

It pays to be nice

Although the payments might not affect your bank account.

More than likely however, is that you'll be receiving payment in the form of:

• Friendships
• Connection
• Job security
• A good reputation
• Stable relationships

The traditional economic framework based on the concept of all of us action as rational self-centred actors on a global stage misses this fundamental fact that we all know to be true.

It pays to be nice.

Storytelling ourself into a corner

We're all living out of a story. But we might not like it that much.

Our story might drive us to do things we're not proud of.

It might trap us in places we don't want to be.

Or our story might simply not feel like it fits quite right.

So change it. 

Borrow someone else's for a while.

Get some help with demolition and reconstruction, from someone who has the necessary skills.

Practice telling a new story.

Practice telling stories in general.

Learn about other people's stories, and find the things you like in them.

Find a friend who'll listen.

The self-perpetuating commodified property market

Our houses seem to look best right before we sell them.

We fix the gutter, paint the garage, clear out the garden and finish the curtains just in time to put the house on the market.

The theory is, I guess, that we'll get a better price if everything's done. If everything's straight, neat and tidy.

We're trying to guess what will make the house most valuable to the buyer with the biggest wallet. A theoretical, imagined, impossible future buyer.

It's the same when building a new house. More thought seems to go in to what will make the house valuable when we sell it, rather than what will make the house valuable to us to live in, next year.

And so we all build, renovate, do-up and design houses for a theoretical, imagined, future owner', and never build houses for the actual people who live there.

Yet another symptom of the commodification of property, where the losers are us, the people.

It's a fulfilling prophecy. A self-perpetuating market: We build/renovate houses for the market, which then sell on the market because the market is people buying what sells on the market.

What if we built, bought, sold and renovated houses that we wanted to live in. Designed for us, not the market.