Project Persons
A Project Person is someone who is always building, rallying, or reimagining a business, side gig, or life-giving endeavor. They are dreamers, yes, but they are also doers who see what’s possible and then bring it to life.
I’ve spent the last 18 months writing my first novel. I’ve been doing this alongside my other projects, ones I love and plan on continuing: I’m still a partner at an HR biz, I’ve kept one grassroots marketing client, and we just renovated and sold a mountain shack.
I was feeling a little insecure about all of this, as my work doesn’t line up in a very tidy LinkedIn narrative. But I’ve realized I’m just a project person. I’m always going to be building something—and more than likely multiple somethings, all at once.
This got me thinking about other project persons I know—B.T. Harman, Aaron Chewning, Bethaney Wilkinson. These are not mad scientists or quickstarts; they are intentional in what they do and how they do it, and most importantly, they see it through.
I realized there’s a pattern and a framework here that differentiate a Project Person from any ole hobbyist or dreamer:
Projects require (1) a significant investment of time and/or money and (2) a commitment. A project does not go on forever—it’s not a hobby or habit—but stopping requires a significant decision and effort.
For example:
Singing at karaoke night might not be a project but starting a band might be.
Taking photos might not be a project but starting a photography business might be.
Going for a run might not be a project but running a marathon might be.
(I use “might/might not” in all of those examples, because you can easily poke holes in this framework. What qualifies as significant? etc etc)
Projects tend to fall in one of three categories: an organization, a job, or a life-giving endeavor.
A life-giving endeavor is something you want to do or accomplish that is good for your soul. This might be art, worship, community involvement, charity, ministry, or self-improvement. It likely costs you time and money, but it produces something else of benefit either to yourself or someone else. (It may turn into a job or biz/org.)
Examples: Completing an Iron Man, learning to play an instrument, joining a non-profit board
A job or side gig is something you do with the intention of making money. It requires your time, and it makes you money. It basically stops when you stop. (It may turn into a biz/org, and it may also be life-giving!)
Examples: A calligrapher, a house flipper, a writer
An organization is something you do to make money, but it also has the chance of existing beyond your input. It requires other people’s time or donations, and it makes other people money (as well as you!). It is an asset; it can go on if you stop. (You can have a job within your biz/org, and this can also be life-giving).
Examples: A nonprofit like Refuge Coffee, a business like Same Page HR
Why does any of this matter?!
Being intentional about how you approach your project:
releases certain expectations.
helps you make healthy time and financial decisions.
Do you have the capacity to invest forty hours a week into a project that will likely only cost you money and not make you money? If a project is meant to be a job/gig, do you need to invest in certain things a larger business needs? If your project is a business, do you still need to have a job within that business or is it time to pass that on to someone else?
Here is how this plays out in my own life:
It’s helpful to recognize when I need to switch categories (ex. pursuing publishing made writing move from just a life-giving endeavor to a side-gig), as it allows me to recalibrate my expectations.
My brain does best when doing three large projects and a few small ones. I get overwhelmed if I do any more; I get bored if I do less.
When considering anything that requires a commitment, I now think of my current commitments in these categories. Is there anything that needs to wrap up or roll off? (When considering that, I ask myself: Do I have more to give, and do I have more to gain?) Am I meeting both my financial and life-giving needs/wants? Is there a shift that needs to happen in order to do that?
Here are a few projects of mine along with how I think about each:
Grassroots marketing: this is a job. I started groundsweller thinking it may one day be an agency, but I realized I wanted to keep it as just a job. I’ve held on to one client, and I get paid to do the work. If I stop doing the work, the money stops. If I were to quit, it would require a significant conversation with my client and my husband (how will I make up that money?!).
Same Page HR: this is an organization AND a job. I am a partner in this fractional HR company where we have a team of HR Generalists performing the work for clients. I get paid to do a specific job for the company, but I could also replace myself and the clients would continue. This is an asset I could one day sell.
Writing historical fiction: this is a life-giving endeavor that I am turning into a job. For the first 18 months, I invested about 10 hours a week learning about writing fiction and actually giving it a shot by writing a novel. I decided not to think about making money from it until I felt like I had a finished product I was proud of. I am now ready to move into the side gig/job category as I pursue publishing.
groundsweller, Same Page HR, and writing are all also life-giving endeavors for me. I enjoy the work, the people, and all I get to learn in the process.
Young Norcross: this is a life-giving endeavor that I decided will always stay a life-giving endeavor; I never want to make money off of this. This weekly email sent to my neighbors is something I started as a way to build community and support our local businesses. While I could see a business plan for advertising, I knew that would add pressures and expectations I didn’t want.