CFC Blog #08: My Grandfather and Three Stone Cutters
(PIP NOTE: First off, Amanda is in the most grueling part of finals right now with four tests in two days so I am chipping in… she will be back in two days.)
Among the intentions in our writing is for us all to write from a place of “being part of” and “sharing” not speaking TO or speaking AT the community of 261 people as an “expert” of any sort… that “expert” thing can oddly be a hinderance at time of separating people into us/them based on content levels — I think perhaps humans have been conditioned for isolation and creating separation and might use loads of tools toward that end with “expert” being one. So I ask the folks who write to share where they came to develop a certain skill or way of thinking. I want to hear the roots of their journey not “merely” their expert advice. Here, Rob connects what he learned from his grandfather… Across time I have heard amazing stories of Rob and his grandfather as a relationship of synchronicity. I wish I had met him…
Pip
(From Robert Rose)
MY GRANDFATHER AND THREE STONE CUTTERS
Why Are You Cutting Stones?
I find myself sitting here thinking about Brinton and, as he laid out in his recent post, that room listening to a CEO “lay out his 100 year plan”, and how that naturally led him to a "set of guiding values wrapped up in the preservative of culture.”
It reminded me of this conversation I had last month with a startup CEO who was as frustrated as he’d ever been. As a former journalist, he found himself now running a venture based company looking to grow quickly. While he and his group had the usual startup challenges of focusing on feeding the growth engine, this wasn’t his frustration. What was leading him to consider quitting was frustration over where his work was going.
He asked, “How do we produce meaning in our work? Increasingly, I see myself separate from my business, polishing some separate jewel, instead of feeding my passion. We are focused on building things that will sell, or satisfy growth, rather than the things we think are meaningful.”
I asked him, “What are you building?” He asked what I meant.
I told him it was what my grandfather used to ask me every time I told him I was unhappy at my job, or frustrated at developing a skill. He would ask me “what are you building?” He would ask me that, and then tell me the story of the three stonecutters.
Here’s how the story goes. A man happens upon three stonecutters. He stops and asks each one what he’s doing. The first stonecutter pauses from his work and says, “I’m cutting stones. I'm doing my job. I’m making a living.” The second stonecutter keeps hammering as he says, “I’m cutting and polishing the best-crafted stones in the entire country.” The third stonecutter wipes his brow, points to the horizon, and says, “I am building a cathedral that will stand there.”
I have the following thought: it can be very easy to get lost as the second stonecutter. We may fool ourselves into thinking that we’re working toward something worthwhile – the equivalent of beautifully polished stones – but maybe, if we listen more closely to ourselves, it’s “worthwhile” with a little “w.” Lacking a cathedral, we might find ourselves moving from job to job, taking our commitment to excellence – and our frustration – with us everywhere.
Just as my grandfather would ask me, I got to ask this startup CEO. “What are you building? See, when I was young, I was the second stonecutter,” I told my friend. So I asked him if he might think about adopting some of the same aspects of his new job that he was less comfortable with. I asked him if he might lean more into the meaning of what his business is, rather than see himself as separate from it. I asked him if he might encourage his team to instill a culture of building cathedrals, and have his team ask why they are cutting stones?
Every single day that I’m frustrated with my job, my career, I hear my grandfather’s voice in my head. “What are you building?” And I ask myself why I’m cutting stones?
Rob