How to make your impossible project possible

If you’re like me, your projects start out with beautiful ambitious visions that turn out to be impossible.

If I don’t make an idea more feasible, it won’t get done at all. Or it’ll get half done and then take up mental or physical space forever. I use to think about making the project do-able as matter of narrowing. It felt like having to build a cramped hallway in the middle of an expansive meadow. Narrowing always felt like a loss— like giving into my limitations. It always made me sad.

Now, instead, I try to focus the project by finding the coolest part of the idea and letting the rest go. It’s like going to that meadow, finding a lovely shade tree and spending the afternoon there. With focusing, the valuable core of the idea can really start to sing and the whole project comes out much better than it would have, even if I could have executed the original big idea.

I’ve used this focusing technique when leading big teams on major projects, creating strategic plans, working with a few collaborators on shoestring budget, or doing something just for myself. I use this when I’m designing university classes and activities for kindergartners.

Here are the steps I use. My examples come from my own areas of work but these steps could apply anywhere.

I start out trying to think of the craziest, biggest ideas I can. I really lean in to my inherent unreasonableness and actively disregard practical concerns.

This step is inspired by a former colleague at a museum who often encouraged thinking big. We would get bogged down in some detail, like on an exhibit project we’d get lost debating which color gray to paint the wall, or whether to use a tv or a projection screen in this corner, and he’d come in and say “Never mind about that! If you could do anything, what would it be?” What a wonderful invitation. Maybe we could build immersive sets for each section… Maybe we could get a vintage car up to the second floor as part of a street scene… Maybe we build a place for live music performances… Maybe we could have a working photography darkroom… Once we were thinking this way, good things would happen.

Some of the ideas might be fun, but don’t have too much to do with the immediate goals. Those go straight to a “someday” file. You’ll be surprised when these ideas come around later.

I was planning a class about making podcasts about science and I had an idea that students could make hands-on activities that teach a science concept. It seemed like a way to think about how to break down a complex idea into something easy to understand. As I worked on the class, I realized that this activity didn’t add enough to the podcast project and so I filed it away. Now, I think I’ll be able to use it in a class I’ll teach next year, “Learning Science without Schools.”

Look for what ties together the ideas that are left. Maybe they are all different ways of creating the same effect. Maybe they are all variations on the same starting point. Maybe they all have the same basic structure. One way to find this common thread is to imagine changing different elements. Imagine eliminating part of the idea or doubling it. You are looking for the foundation of what attracts you to these ideas.

Once, I was working on an activity room for kids to go along with an exhibit about space suits. We had all kinds big ideas, like creating a rocket with a control panel and a launch sequence simulation, a wall full of stars that would turn on and off to show different constellations, and kid-sized replica spacesuits from different eras. This was all beyond our $500 budget. Looking at the ideas, though, we realized that they were all really about letting kids imagine themselves in space and letting them play in a big physical way.

Take that piece that you’re really excited about and make that the whole idea. Ruthlessly drop everything else. Even if something seems nice and not too hard, if it’s not part of that core, let it go. You could add it to your someday folder. This will make room for you to go big with what is left. With this focus, you can usually push this core to a new level. Once you’ve pushed your core idea as far as seems reasonable, try to think of how it could be even more so. Sometimes more is more.

With the space-themed activity room, we wanted to push the physical, imaginative play aspect and drop the rest. We made a tent-like fabric rocket that hung from the ceiling and could sway back and forth or spin. We hung some white and orange jumpsuits on the wall, and kids had everything they needed to play rocket. We also filled a giant basket with throw-able magnetic LED lights (modified Ikea tea lights) that lit up when they stuck to a piece of sheet metal on the wall. Along with a set of constellation-shape cards as a challenge, kids had a great time touching (and tossing) stars. Once we let go of the simulation and didactic elements and focused on physical fun, the activities snapped into place.

If there is some big problem that makes the idea impossible, make that part of the core of the idea. Decide that the fatal flaw is a feature and see what happens. I often come up with something much more interesting than I expected.

I was creating a series of short videos about the history of Lowell, MA as part of a Smithsonian project, but I had the big problem of having no crew, very little editing skill, and equipment for object photography rather than for making documentaries. There was no way I was going to be able to do talking head interviews, site visits, or Ken Burns-style panning across photos. I knew that the core of the project was a collection of great documents and a clear narrative. So, I made the problem the solution by setting up the camera as if I were going to take pictures of the documents and then shooting a video of the table while I moved around the documents and told the story into a podcasting microphone. The result was much more interesting than if I would have tried to do a more traditional documentary style.

I always overestimate what I can get done, so I try to start out by just reducing off the top. This is exactly analogous to adding a 30% pad to a project budget (I also always underestimate what things will cost).

I do this in so many contexts. When I have five things I want to do during a class meeting, I drop two of them. If I want to put 70 things in an exhibit, I let go of 20 of them. It’s hard in the moment, but I’m always glad I did.

With these steps you can forget about those narrow hallways and still not get lost in the meadow. You can find that wonderful corner, that shade tree where the scene comes alive, and spend some time there. That beautiful, impractical meadow will still be there in the background, supporting the actual project. And you can always go back and spend time in another corner.

What big, beautiful, unreasonable projects do you have?

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