Most of us don’t think about our water supply beyond the fact that we need and use it every day to survive. But my awareness of what it takes to provide communities with potable water has increased over the past few months, thanks to our Open Assembly Collective member Yorkshire Water.
Recently, I was in Alaska skiing in the Tordrillos with the good folks from Inkwell including Jimmy Chin and Mark Healey. On several of the runs I was haunted by the memories of an avalanche I was in several years ago.
My life, over the past several years, has been shaken up, multiple times. Anyone who knows me, knows this. I live with the results of this disruption every day. I haven’t forgotten it, but that’s not what I want to write about here. Right now, I want to write about where I’m at today.
A couple of weeks ago I let you know about the launch of the Open Assembly Collective which, essentially is a community of CEOs, Harvard Scholars, and executive level leaders who are passionate about and share the common goal of changing the paradigm and mindset of how people work. Our focus is to co-create and build the foundation for the future of work.
A small group of Harvard scholars, CEOs, and director-level managers was swiftly delivered by Uber and Lyft drivers a few months back to convene in a conference room on Kearny street in San Francisco. The group, sporting on-trend splashes of red, velvet blazers, shirts and blouses procured from online style clubs, was ready to roll.
I love this time of year. The conversations are full of gratefulness, vulnerability and beauty. I often wonder why we can’t take this tone into the rest of the year. There is, of course, the counter-trend that plays out on the news channels, one of bombastic, testosterone-driven pronouncements.
I posted a blog a few weeks ago called “The Gig Economy is the Economy” in reaction to reading an article about the economies of many African countries. It caused a bit of a stir. In my travels to chase adventure in many reaches of the world, I’ve noticed that the economies where I visit are gig economies.
My SUV in Sayulita, Mexico has been consumed by rust over the years as the salt in the air has taken its toll. It sputters quite a bit, topping out at 45 mph. The floor is full of sand and surf wax is permanently embedded in the dash. A while back, after a particularly memorable surf session here, I hopped a plane back to the states.