The treasure hunt was coming to an end, and I was definitely in trouble.  And to make matters worse, I knew it was my own darn fault. 

The scene: a classroom at the Boston Museum of Science. The players: a group of thirty management consultants.  Everyone had come through the first stage of the hunt in the museum with flying colors, returning in record time, with all the clues correct. Clearly these were a bunch of sharpies; surely, I figured, I could up the ante in the second hunt – push them out of their comfort zones a bit. So, ten minutes into their 90-minute stage two hunt, I rushed in and announced, “Management informs you that the deadline for your current project has been pushed up – dramatically.  You now have only one hour for this hunt.  Terribly sorry.”   

Chaos ensued.  Teams started scribbling madly on their clue sheets.  Representatives from teams started bartering frantically with other teams in an effort to swap answers and exchange clue resources.  Some groups even tried to create alliances, divvying up their clues with other teams so they wouldn’t have to visit all the locations in the hunt.   This was a rather splendid idea, I thought, except that each team, by rule, was also required to take a group photo of their team at each location.  Hence the complication – if you split the clues with another team, you only get half of the required photos.  Tempers flared; temperature rose; I’d made a terrible mistake.  By reducing the time, I’d pushed the challenge beyond the people’s ability to succeed – and they weren’t having it! 

In my last blog entry, I wrote about my attendance at this year’s NASAGA conference.  In one fascinating session, presenter Bernie DeKoven spoke to us about “flow”, a term much-popularized by Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi.  According to DeKoven, the “flow” state is like being “in the zone”; we feel like we’re at one with our task -- whether it’s hitting a tennis ball or making a presentation.  One of the main characteristics of “flow” is that the challenge closely matches our abilities.  In other words, if the challenge is too high for our capabilities, we’re likely to check out in frustration. Conversely, if our abilities are too high for the challenge, then we’re again apt to check out, this time in boredom. 

By changing the rules on my treasure hunt group, I had escalated the challenge beyond the group’s existing ability to succeed. In short, I’d taken them out of “flow”.  Thankfully, just about everything that comes up during a training is “debriefable”.  So, back to the wall, I ventured: “Well isn’t this just like work?” Management pushes you up against an impossible deadline. How do you react? Do you sit and suffer, or do you make it work for you?  Etc.” 

As you can imagine, the discussion was animated, if not a bit acrimonious.  I’m sure I deserved it. I’d like to think that they got some learning out of it.  This is what we trainers call “rationalization”.  I know I learned something:  be careful how far you push people for the sake of “teachable moments”.  There’s a lot to be said for allowing people to experience that rare and elusive state of “flow”.

One of my favorite organizations is NASAGA, the North American Simulation and Gaming Association.  Every year its membership of teachers and trainers meets at their annual conference to exchange ideas about how games and simulations can bring alive classroom lessons and training workshops.  I’ve been going to NASAGA conferences for 8 years now, and found each one a treasure trove of innovative presentation techniques, game design tips, icebreakers, jolts, etc.   Having been in the training business for a decade or so, I thought I’d seen it all until – during a workshop at this year’s NASAGA conference in Vancouver –Ken Bellemare proved that the mind is stronger than the potato.

Everyone in our class was handed a potato and a straw -- not one of those flimsy stirring straws, mind you, that dissolves in your coffee.  These were good, strong restaurant straws and hard, red Russett potatoes.  Ken instructed us to place the potato in the crook between our thumb and forefinger.  Then, on the count of three, we were to summon up our mental and spiritual energy, let out a might “Yaw!” and thrust the straw through the potato.  I’m a pretty open and optimistic fellow, but I’ll admit I was a bit skeptical about that little piece of cylindrical plastic making its way through an intractable, starchy tuber like a potato.  Well, what the heck – if I fail, I’m sure at least a few others in class will do likewise. Surely in advanced karate classes, not everyone manages to break his board, right?  So I lined up my straw, visualized it going all the way through the potato like a knife through butter, and uttered my most full-throated “Yaw!” And by golly – the straw went right on through my potato.  Remarkable!

I haven’t yet used Ken’s potato activity in one of my teambuilding workshops, but I’m surely going to.  After all, we are often faced with challenges in our life that seem impossibly hard and impenetrable – like a potato.  Sometimes all it takes to get through is a simple, ordinary tool, and a whole lot of belief. 

   "So how does one become a treasure hunt master?"  It's a question a lot of people have asked me over the years. To which I generally answer, "Oh, you know, the usual career path...school of clue-ology, that kind of thing!" Which gets a laugh, of course.  But really!  How did it happen?  Here then, in brief, is my story: From Blues To Clues

The year was 1995. I had just turned 31 and I was "temp"-ing around in corporate offices all over San Francisco, wondering if and when my real career "light bulb" was ever going to go on. Everyone else around me seemed to know what they wanted to do with their lives (or so it seemed). So why not me? Why was I still stuck in the "career blues"?

An unabashed extrovert, I knew one thing very clearly about myself: I process things best out loud, in conversation with others. Luckily, I had a friend from the neighborhood, Scott, who was willing to indulge me in a series of regular brainstorm sessions: The purpose - to help me get a clue about my career.

And so we began to meet at a nearby cafe, me and my "business buddy," every Monday night. Over the course of several weeks, we talked about a large variety of job titles, but nothing was clicking. Scott, an entrepreneur with his own environmental planning business, then made a radical suggestion that changed my life. He asked:

"Have you thought about starting your own business?"

The son of a journalist and a teacher -- as liberal and anti-business as you can get -- I burst out, "Are you kidding! I don't know the slightest thing about economics or marketing or bookkeeping. There is no way I'm starting a business!" Scott, bless his heart, was a patient and persistent fellow. He kept on pushing and probing and eventually talked me into at least thinking about entrepreneurship. As I had recently been working in an employment agency, we both decided I should take a week to ponder starting a possible business as a professional interview and resume coach. So off I went.

Then the strangest thing happened.

The notion of life as a career coach just wasn't sitting right with me. Not that there's anything wrong with that career, certainly.  It just didn't sound fun to me, and fun is a big deal in my life. If I was to start a business, with all its challenges, then shouldn't I LOVE what I'm doing? Clearly I needed to look at things another way. So I ripped out a new page in my notebook and jotted down the title: "Activities I love doing."  My thinking was, if I could figure out the things that really thrilled me over the years, then perhaps I could craft a business built on the direction of my heart. What I came up with were these three "touchstones":

1) Travel. 

2) Working with groups.

3) Games and wordplay.

So Monday came around again and I explained to Scott that these three activities were what really turned me on. Couldn't we perhaps come up with a "career" that might incorporate my favorite touchstones?  Scott soon reminded me that I had once attended a treasure hunt in San Francisco -- a big public-event fundraiser -- from which I had come back quite jazzed. Perhaps, Scott suggested, I could start my own treasure hunt business. "Well sure, I could try it," I answered. "But would it fly?"  Moreover, would it be possible to incorporate "teamwork" into the treasure hunts. Now that would be interesting!

And the rest, as they say, is clue history. Okay, that's a flip response.  Truly, it's been a ton of hard work, persistence and luck, as any entrepreneur can tell you. In fact, I kept my day job for 5 years (!), creating treasure hunts on the weekends for friends and family at first, then later expanding out to social groups, organizations and companies. The learning curve was intense, but what sustained was the source of the business itself -- my heart. Rather than looking outside myself for something to excite me, I instead looked inside for my passions and brought something new into the world - teambuilding treasure hunts. The job for me! And now, I feel like one of the lucky ones, doing at least one of my "touchstone" activities almost daily: traveling, leading programs or creating word puzzles!

And you can build a career from your touchstones as well! For those of you in job transition and even those who aren't, consider trying the following: 

1) Make a list of all your favorite jobs and activities, the ones that make you giddy with excitement just thinking about them. 

2) Try to determine what features or values characterize those jobs or activities.

3) Narrow your list to down to three or four "touchstones" -- the thing at the core that turns you on.

What you'll have before you is a powerful, personal list of the features and characteristics that you deserve to have at the heart of your next "career". Making the list takes as little as a weekend, but the results can be profound!  Try it!

Hey everyone,

Welcome to my first Dr. Clue Team Building blog.  I'm really excited about this opportunity to open a dialogue with you about my favorite topics:  team building and treasure hunts.  In the entries to come, I'll be sharing team building tips, commenting on treasure hunts I've seen, attended and/or facilitated, and answering your questions about anything you can think of.   Give me a "clue" about your interests and I'll do my best to accommodate. 

For now -- a big welcome!  And much more to come.

Dave Blum

President, Dr. Clue Treasure Hunts