ar·chi·tec·ture (ˈärkəˌtek(t)SHər/) noun

  1. the art or practice of designing and constructing buildings.
  2. the complex or carefully designed structure of something.

We’ve all heard the concept of the stage dad or mom.  That parent standing just off-stage, off the court, or even outside the classroom.  Their child’s success is somehow attributed to their success in life.  If the little “me” can somehow make it onto that team, make it into that college, or fit into that crowd, it somehow redeems the fact that I didn’t find the same success.

I think it can translate into repressed hopes, dreams, and desires of the heart as well.  For instance, I’ve always loved architecture.  Our favorite part of living in Chicago was the abundance of great architects and the things they created.  We took tours of their creations and tried to get our many visitors to do the same.

My boys slight interest in building prompted us to grow an almost unhealthy lego collection.  My daughter’s interest in architecture led to a professional drawing board, tools, and even software that would facilitate creating in that space.  No one made it into the architecture field (so far!), but the kids seem to have a strong sense of space, the eldest is involved in timber frame construction primarily with trees that have experienced oak wilt, and the three youngest are still working over the lego collection. 

My personal lone holdover is the exclusive use of a mechanical architecture pencils when I write.  I still carry Moleskine type journals and record almost every thing in .7mm pencil lead.  The heavy weight of the industrial feeling pencils and the need to periodically replace the lead and erasers, makes it feel almost holy to me.

Through our LifePlan process, we spend a lot of time excavating the story of people’s lives.  We monetize the clues found in the good times and fight to find the redemptive perspective from the bad.  Mining those fertile fields, mixing in the essential ingredients of passion, desire, gifting, ability, allows one to start conceiving a different picture of the future.  Often a more inspired future than ever thought possible.

The thing we’ve realized through our corporate coaching as well as our LifePlan work is that writing a more impactful and fulfilling future is a choice.  In both, it is the architecture behind everything that determines the future outcome.

  • Is the foundation of the purpose statement clearly set?
  • Are the guiding walls of core values solidly in place?
  • Is an inspired and motivating future clearly seen by all?
  • Does everyone see themselves in the blueprints, understand their roles, and know what part they play?

Writing a different narrative for your business, organization, or family is really that simple… but it is not easy.  Finding a life worth living is about the same.  If you want the next 10 years to look inspiringly different than the last, simply architect a different future and you will find it.  Let us know, we can help.

  • How is continuing to do things the way you’ve always done them going to produce the life you always hoped for?
  • How is the way you are currently leading your business, organization, or family, going to find the more inspired future you have always hoped for?
  • Are you really ready to do something about it?  It really is simple, it is just not easy.