Starting with the end in mind
"If you're fond of sand dunes and salty air, quaint little villages here and there." (Groove Armada - "At The River")

A conversation at work today planted a seed in my head which is starting to turn, uncomfortably, into a Big Idea. Research manager Kate, who is creative but also suited to her methodical job by a love of thoroughness and completion, missed hearing the end of a sentence on our radio station. The voice on air trailed off indistinctly, but this made Kate shout for our attention.
"What!? What did you say? Tell me what they were supposed to be saying!"
You might suppose that Kate had been hooked by our presenter's lucid explantion of the meaning of life and that she was annoyed by missing the last, crucial detail. Or were they giving out a phone number to claim a free car, and Kate missed the last couple of digits? Actually, I think it was a pretty unremarkable bit of banter, sadly not too memorable, but that reaction to missing the ending started an thought provoking conversation.
Why do we get irritated by things which start but don't finish?
The End.
(Only joking!)
If incompletion annoys us, compels most of us to look for an ending or resolution, then why is obsessive compulsion called a disorder?
Scientists have coined the term "brain itch" for an idea which gets stuck in the head and repeats, sometimes annoyingly, over and over. Here's a good article about brain itches - http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/science/nature/3221499.stm
I love the example of Mozart who was obsessively compelled to finish musical scales. If his kids wanted to wind him up, all they had to do was start a scale while dad was in earshot, and not finish it. "I can make the old man run down the stairs!" they could say to mates they wanted to impress. Creak open the piano lid... run fingers up the white keys... do - re - me - fa - so - la - ti. Wait. There's shuffling upstairs, now footsteps, now running down the stairs. Here he is, not happy. The great man's finger on C... doh! Mozart was a master composer, enslaved by his brain itches, controlled by the need for completion.
That does sound a little extreme. We might not all work the same way, but endings and satisfaction are vital to us. My wife Helen gets wound up every time she hears Groove Armada - "At The River". "If you're fond of sand dunes... then what? That's not a whole sentence? If... then what?! What are you trying to say?!!" (If you need to know, check out the original song it samples, "Old Cape Cod" by Patti Page. And be careful what you wish for - it's not really that exciting. Old Cape Cod lyrics )
Have you ever been to see a film, and loved it all the way up to the disappointing ending? I bet you didn't just feel annoyed, but cheated and insulted. That was a crap film! Not only would you fail to recommend it to friends, you'd go out of your way to spread the word about what a bad film it was - a waste of time from beginning to end.
What about the TV series Twin Peaks? Did you feel like you wasted two years intrigued but never getting to the answer you craved? Most people in our office are afraid the same might happen with Lost. Maybe it's not worth an emotional investment in case it doesn't get repaid with the satisfaction of answers.
I think we're brought up, perhaps usefully, to idolise completion and fear starting something we can't finish. I grew up assuming Magnus Magnusson was TV's cleverest man, because he had all the answers to the Mastermind questions. If you wanted to be like him, you'd say his best known phrase, "I've started so I'll finish." Jesus told people they should count the cost of following him before they start, using the example of a foolish man who starts to build a house but can't finish it. Such a person is left with expensive waste, worse than nothing. Church founder Paul instructed these same followers to think like athletes, racing with their eyes and minds set on the finish. Today's business gurus, self help writers, even the devotees of neuro linguistic programming, all think they invented this idea - start with the end in mind. Visualise your ideal outcome. Set SMART objectives and evaluate - achieve your goal!
There's clearly a principle at work here. I've found the advice worth taking - not only do I gain satisfaction when I finish what I start, I also gain respect from others for keeping my promises, and increase their trust that I'd do the same in future. Sadly I've learned this most powerfully from my mistakes, failures to deliver, or worse, my eagerness to start things I can't finish. It's so easy to make empty promises to happy people who can't wait to see what you can do, and so difficult to face disappointing them knowing that you didn't or couldn't follow through from the best intended start. So I'm learning to be careful about what I commit to, count the cost, and work to finish what I start.
Here's what really bugged me by this evening, though, after today's conversation with Kate had itched my brain in the background all day. I meant to start this blog ages ago, roughly themed around creative thinking, and exploring how we can do it better. I'm pretty good at coming up with ideas, and working in radio over 14 years with dozens of creative presenters and producers, I've learned a lot about it. Probably enough to write something useful, definitely enough to start discussions and experiments. So why didn't I start before today?
I've certainly not realised how to finish, I've not costed my writing time or put it in my diary, and I've not waited for free time - the approach to Christmas is the busiest time of the year for me, because my radio stations run 24/7 across the holidays. I want to cram the work I'd normally do daily over weeks into a few days now, so I can get out of the office for a fortnight. I haven't got time for this.
What struck me uncomfortably was realising - the fear of not finishing holds me back from starting.
Yet I know that to get anywhere useful, I need to start, and sometimes work things out on the way. "A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step," says the Chinese proverb. Can you apply that to something you're stuck on? If you failed to progress any further, what's the worst that could happen? Maybe starting without finishing will annoy you or someone else, but is it really always better to keep yourself from starting, never playing or exploring, just in case you find something on the way, or even just for the fun of the trip itself?
Annoyance at this growing but incomplete idea, this brain itch, forced me to start writing this. I don't know where it'll finish - but it's a blog, not a book, so perhaps it doesn't have to. Starting without the end in mind feels scary, also exciting. If you know how this feels, and you'd like to join me in exploring creative ideas and music, I hope you'll come back. For now, I'll only promise to write a bit more soon - I think I'll need to do that. I'd love to engage you in conversation, but don't have a good question for you right now.
Any ideas?

A conversation at work today planted a seed in my head which is starting to turn, uncomfortably, into a Big Idea. Research manager Kate, who is creative but also suited to her methodical job by a love of thoroughness and completion, missed hearing the end of a sentence on our radio station. The voice on air trailed off indistinctly, but this made Kate shout for our attention.
"What!? What did you say? Tell me what they were supposed to be saying!"
You might suppose that Kate had been hooked by our presenter's lucid explantion of the meaning of life and that she was annoyed by missing the last, crucial detail. Or were they giving out a phone number to claim a free car, and Kate missed the last couple of digits? Actually, I think it was a pretty unremarkable bit of banter, sadly not too memorable, but that reaction to missing the ending started an thought provoking conversation.
Why do we get irritated by things which start but don't finish?
The End.
(Only joking!)
If incompletion annoys us, compels most of us to look for an ending or resolution, then why is obsessive compulsion called a disorder?
Scientists have coined the term "brain itch" for an idea which gets stuck in the head and repeats, sometimes annoyingly, over and over. Here's a good article about brain itches - http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/science/nature/3221499.stm
I love the example of Mozart who was obsessively compelled to finish musical scales. If his kids wanted to wind him up, all they had to do was start a scale while dad was in earshot, and not finish it. "I can make the old man run down the stairs!" they could say to mates they wanted to impress. Creak open the piano lid... run fingers up the white keys... do - re - me - fa - so - la - ti. Wait. There's shuffling upstairs, now footsteps, now running down the stairs. Here he is, not happy. The great man's finger on C... doh! Mozart was a master composer, enslaved by his brain itches, controlled by the need for completion.
That does sound a little extreme. We might not all work the same way, but endings and satisfaction are vital to us. My wife Helen gets wound up every time she hears Groove Armada - "At The River". "If you're fond of sand dunes... then what? That's not a whole sentence? If... then what?! What are you trying to say?!!" (If you need to know, check out the original song it samples, "Old Cape Cod" by Patti Page. And be careful what you wish for - it's not really that exciting. Old Cape Cod lyrics )
Have you ever been to see a film, and loved it all the way up to the disappointing ending? I bet you didn't just feel annoyed, but cheated and insulted. That was a crap film! Not only would you fail to recommend it to friends, you'd go out of your way to spread the word about what a bad film it was - a waste of time from beginning to end.
What about the TV series Twin Peaks? Did you feel like you wasted two years intrigued but never getting to the answer you craved? Most people in our office are afraid the same might happen with Lost. Maybe it's not worth an emotional investment in case it doesn't get repaid with the satisfaction of answers.
I think we're brought up, perhaps usefully, to idolise completion and fear starting something we can't finish. I grew up assuming Magnus Magnusson was TV's cleverest man, because he had all the answers to the Mastermind questions. If you wanted to be like him, you'd say his best known phrase, "I've started so I'll finish." Jesus told people they should count the cost of following him before they start, using the example of a foolish man who starts to build a house but can't finish it. Such a person is left with expensive waste, worse than nothing. Church founder Paul instructed these same followers to think like athletes, racing with their eyes and minds set on the finish. Today's business gurus, self help writers, even the devotees of neuro linguistic programming, all think they invented this idea - start with the end in mind. Visualise your ideal outcome. Set SMART objectives and evaluate - achieve your goal!
There's clearly a principle at work here. I've found the advice worth taking - not only do I gain satisfaction when I finish what I start, I also gain respect from others for keeping my promises, and increase their trust that I'd do the same in future. Sadly I've learned this most powerfully from my mistakes, failures to deliver, or worse, my eagerness to start things I can't finish. It's so easy to make empty promises to happy people who can't wait to see what you can do, and so difficult to face disappointing them knowing that you didn't or couldn't follow through from the best intended start. So I'm learning to be careful about what I commit to, count the cost, and work to finish what I start.
Here's what really bugged me by this evening, though, after today's conversation with Kate had itched my brain in the background all day. I meant to start this blog ages ago, roughly themed around creative thinking, and exploring how we can do it better. I'm pretty good at coming up with ideas, and working in radio over 14 years with dozens of creative presenters and producers, I've learned a lot about it. Probably enough to write something useful, definitely enough to start discussions and experiments. So why didn't I start before today?
I've certainly not realised how to finish, I've not costed my writing time or put it in my diary, and I've not waited for free time - the approach to Christmas is the busiest time of the year for me, because my radio stations run 24/7 across the holidays. I want to cram the work I'd normally do daily over weeks into a few days now, so I can get out of the office for a fortnight. I haven't got time for this.
What struck me uncomfortably was realising - the fear of not finishing holds me back from starting.
Yet I know that to get anywhere useful, I need to start, and sometimes work things out on the way. "A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step," says the Chinese proverb. Can you apply that to something you're stuck on? If you failed to progress any further, what's the worst that could happen? Maybe starting without finishing will annoy you or someone else, but is it really always better to keep yourself from starting, never playing or exploring, just in case you find something on the way, or even just for the fun of the trip itself?
Annoyance at this growing but incomplete idea, this brain itch, forced me to start writing this. I don't know where it'll finish - but it's a blog, not a book, so perhaps it doesn't have to. Starting without the end in mind feels scary, also exciting. If you know how this feels, and you'd like to join me in exploring creative ideas and music, I hope you'll come back. For now, I'll only promise to write a bit more soon - I think I'll need to do that. I'd love to engage you in conversation, but don't have a good question for you right now.
Any ideas?
