I stumbled into the phrase SNAFU by accident. Last winter, my father and a close friend both asked me, quite out of the blue, if I knew what SNFU means.
I’d thought “snafu” was an English word that means a small mistake. SNAFU is an acronym that originated during World War II, coined by soldiers to describe the commonplace messiness of war, military bureaucracy, and the human experience. It stands for Situation Normal: All Fucked Up.
I embraced the word for three of reasons:
- the original military dark humor
- my own somewhat mistaken interpretation meaning small mistake or misstep
- A reminder of two people I love
When we’re learning something new, everything comes as the result of trial and error – though baby steps, through small mistakes.
For me, Snafu – the word, not the acronym – has come to mean the small mistakes that result in learning. And the challenging, oftentimes hilarious, lessons we learn along the way.
I’ve been writing this newsletter for 18 months and haven’t missed a single week of publishing! The time has come to reevaluate the purpose of the newsletter, what I’m trying to accomplish with it, why I write it, and what it means.
Origin stories
I’m fascinated by origin stories because it is during those periods that character gets made.
I’m less interested in T.E. Lawrence’s exploits in Arabia, and more about how he came to become the world-changing character he was.
I’ve been a longtime fan of Tim Ferriss. But then the podcast and books he’s known for, though I’m intrigued by his come up – by who he was during his most difficult times.
Starting Robin’s Cafe in 3 weeks, and then selling it on Craigslist is one of my origin stories. Those early days of building my brick-and-mortal business made me who I am today.
Snafu is my attempt to document lessons learned over the last decade I would have enjoyed reading 5 and 10 years ago.
Advice I wish I’d had
Years ago, as a member of his Behavior Design lab at Stanford, BJ Fogg told me not to try to persuade the unpersuadeable. That is a moment I’ll never forget.
Snafu is my attempt to document lessons learned for myself, so that I remember them.
Sitting down to write each day forces me to clarify my thinking, to articulate my beliefs.
Snafu is my effort to document my own and other people’s learnings, to learn from the mistakes that make us who we are.
The crafts of writing & teaching
I’ve always loved the craft of writing. But up until recent years I was too ashamed of the potential of a typo to publish most of what I wrote. I still cringe when someone points out grammatical mistakes in my work, but I’ve learned to also say “Thank you.”
Snafu is my attempt to train myself to write. Maybe not John McPhee quality of writer, but someone who can assemble words in a way that might impact people.
I’ve been very fortunate in my life, and met a lot of people along the way who’ve shaped my learning. Teachers and friends have turned up at just the right time, when I needed a lesson or a next step.
Sometimes the right nudge at just the right time is all someone needs to transform their life or work. Change comes through minuscule steps – right up until those changes transform your trajectory. This newsletter is my attempt to offer small steps, and to make those steps smaller.
My hope is that Snafu might be a platform for some of those lessons for others.
What it all means
Life is short, and then we die.
We are tiny, insignificant on a large globe, and our Earth is insignificant against the scope of the universe.
I like gallows humor inherent in the acronym SNAFU because that humor recognizes our insignificance against the backdrop of the universe, and laughs, anyway.
That Snafu means “Situation Normal: All Fucked Up” is hilarious. Even more funny to me is that I’ve used the phrase “snafu” all my life without even knowing that acronym.
As Maya Angelou said, “When you know better, you do better.” That’s how learning works. We make the same mistakes until we learn to outgrow them, and then we make different mistakes until we outgrow those.
Life is a process of making mistakes again and again. Until we learn better. Hopefully, those mistakes are small enough that we don’t die, learn, and grow.
Until next week,
Robin