The fact that I have several endorsements for blogging on LinkedIn says more about the generosity of my friends (and the UX of LinkedIn, as well as the manifold problems of credibility and cost in signaling) than about me.
I am, in fact, bad at blogging.
I am a bad blogger for a couple reasons. The first is that I don’t like disclosing lots of details about my analytic processes. At least not in a way that leaves me as vulnerable as does writing a letter to the world. Hi, mom.
The second is that I don’t know very much about CSS and WordPress but I’m powerfully anal about style.
So I’m making an effort to disclose more and be more honest and to pick up a little CSS and HTML.
The title of this blog is Pivoting Towards Bethlehem. The name derives from Joan Didion’s Slouching Towards Bethlehem, a collection of essays named for a line in Yeats’s poem The Second Coming. Both are fantastic.
Slouching is something like a minority report on California in the 60s. (The Second Coming, according to a guy named Harold Bloom, is something of an apology for Russian counter-revolutionaries. Eek.)
Didion writes in the preface:
I went to San Francisco because I had not been able to work in some months, had been paralyzed by the conviction that writing was an irrelevant act, that the world as I had understood it no longer existed. If I was to work again at all, it would be necessary for me to come to terms with disorder.
(I’m copying this from the Wikipedia page since my copy is buried under a pile of comics at home, by the way.)
To believe in pivoting, in the startup world, is to have a meta-strategy: to be aware of one’s one lack of information, to respond to new information, and to rebuild one’s strategy (and product) in light of new facts. To pivot is to respond and adapt and come to terms with disorder.
It’s been a few months since I’ve worked well too. Maybe longer.
Time to pivot. Wherever I’m going– San Francisco, Battle Creek, Chicago– I’ll see you soon.