The gift of grace, the ability to fail
Dan Wieden 1945-2022
I couldn’t have known a year ago when I wrote “Creating the conditions for magic” when David Kennedy died, that less than a year later Dan Wieden would be gone, too. Together they founded Wieden+Kennedy, Nike’s ad agency and one of the most creatively influential agencies in the world. But to those of us who worked there, it was a place to grow up and get wild(er).
I’ve attempted multiple drafts of this newsletter and considered giving up entirely. I felt frustrated to the point that I wanted to wing my MacBook across the room, and could not figure out why this was so damn hard until I realized — ahhhh this is quite fitting. I was intimidated by Dan. As a copywriter and writer who didn’t yet know she was a copywriter and writer, it might be reasonable to be intimidated by the man who came up with JUST DO IT.
I didn’t have the working relationship with Dan that I had with Kennedy. I didn’t work with him, really, I only worked around the corner from him. He never gave me life advice, never steered my career personally. But he did that same thing that Kennedy did — he helped create the conditions for magic. He built a place where kids were in charge, god help us all. He built something that shaped culture but more than that, shaped countless lives both in and outside of that place. (I wrote more about my experience at W+K here, so won’t revisit it in this newsletter.)
On LinkedIn I came across Rick Boyko’s short film, an interview with Dan from a few years ago (posted below). And I have to say, for all the stories I’ve heard and read, and reflecting on my own experiences at W+K, watching this was the first time I cried. It was like a key sliding into a lock. Or discovering a secret family diary. Things just started to make more sense to me. Why that place was the way it was, and why no other place is quite like it. Why Dan and David were the way they were. And how we all became how we are to this day.
Maybe you’re wondering what this has to do with you? Well, this film of someone you perhaps did not know is peppered with insights and inspiration and gravity. And that pepper will serve you as a creative person and as a person-person. The gift of grace. The ability to fail. Even if you hate advertising like a motherfucker, I promise you will take something of value away from it. Perhaps it will invite you to reflect on those partnerships, relationships, and connections in your own life that led you to where you are today. Perhaps it will invite you to think of where you might want to go, what you might want to do, tomorrow.
Too many people who worked at W+K died young, or certainly before their time. It’s stunning, actually, and in truth I try not to dwell on it. I don’t know who will write the definitive history of W+K, but I hope someone does. There is so much to remember. There is so much we have already forgotten. There are so many people we have already lost. With Dan’s death I feel like my time there has somehow finally ended, 24 years after I quit. I guess this isn’t all that different than what happens in families when the parents are gone. It means that you are next, maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but make no mistake you are next.
It is the end of an era.
Ok I guess I do have one quick Dan story. One afternoon Dan and I got to chatting in the hallway in print production in the old Dekum building. We somehow got on the subject of CBS Sunday Morning, a show that my mother always had on when I was growing up and I was still watching regularly to that day. And he said “remember how long those nature segments used to be? Like five goddamn minutes of nothing but nature! Incredible.” I’ll be damned if I haven’t thought of him every time I’ve come across one of those nature segments since.
Rest in peace, Dan. Thank you for everything. And everyone. I have a good feeling that those nature segments go on forever where you are. x
If you are so inclined, please donate to Caldera Arts in Dan’s memory.
Just about two weeks ago I was in Lincolnville, Maine for the resurrection of Writers Weekend. Unlike previous Writers Weekends (which I wrote about here), this trip was less about thunderous writing momentum and began earlier in the week for me as a necessary exercise in pulling the threads of my life back together.
After my almost five-month Rumspringa, I needed to tune back into the daily goings-on of my life. And, yes, I wanted to reconnect with writing but loosely, slowly, and with no expectations. I spent those first few days just weeding through emails, making to do lists, working, and napping. I napped every day until my body could not nap anymore.
With the arrival of my friends that Friday, I was ready for a shift in focus. And I was also ready to stop feeling crazier than a rat in a coffee can after 4-1/2 days alone. When we went out to dinner that night, it struck me how that restaurant, that dinner, had become a tradition. How even after three years away from it, we picked up right where we had left off. And also how that first night dinner always seems to involve cackling, rapid fire storytelling, and inevitably a show of vulnerability. I can’t recall a time when one or more of us hasn’t been close to or actually in tears over some personal struggle. Parenting, marriage, friendships, money. Life. I have certainly done my share of crying on at least one of those weekends. Perhaps not at dinner, but alone in my cottage or driving around in my car.
After watching the film above of Dan and reflecting back on Writers Weekend, I realized that this year’s coming together represented a newfound feeling of grace. It wasn’t about who could get more done, but how we could support each other in just being. To recognize what these last 3 years have been like, what they have taken from us, and what they have left behind. To regroup and reconnect. It was a weekend focused on reflection and organization, not on outcomes or pressure.
Of all the Writers Weekends, I may remember this one the most. Because it was perhaps the only year I felt at home, emotionally. What mattered more than the productivity porn of a writing getaway was a much-needed reminder that even if we sometimes forget, someone is always in our corner. Maybe it isn’t the obvious person, the closest friend, the one we text every day. But there is someone in your life who believes in you, who knows you are a good person doing your best. There is someone who will frame and reframe your shit until you finally have to give in and say okay I get it, maybe I’m being too hard on myself. Connect with those people. Reconnect with those people. You will not regret it. Not even one tiny bit.
At dinner on our last night, a paraphrased quote (an idea, a lens) was shared that seemed to connect perfectly with our conversations that weekend:
“When stumped by a life choice, choose ‘enlargement’ over happiness. I’m indebted to the Jungian therapist James Hollis for the insight that major personal decisions should be made not by asking, ‘Will this make me happy?’ but ‘Will this choice enlarge me or diminish me?’ We’re terrible at predicting what will make us happy: the question swiftly gets bogged down in our narrow preferences for security and control. But the enlargement question elicits a deeper, intuitive response. You tend to just know whether, say, leaving or remaining in a relationship or a job, though it may bring short-term comfort, would mean cheating yourself of growth.”
— Oliver Burkeman
This is your one life. Allow yourself some grace. Allow yourself to fail. And then get on with it, maybe with a new lens (and some friends) to help guide the way.
You can find my books here. You can find my writing here. You can find my copywriting and creative direction work here. You can find me on Twitter. You can find me on Instagram.
Thank you. Love all this. I watched the Dan video and it’s a gift I will give my son today on his 19th birthday. 💕💗💖. Fail harder.
I've always had a hangup with the word grace. So churchy, I guess. But I'm picking up that word like a new shiny pebble thanks to you. I just sent the last three paragraphs to my 20 year old daughter who is having a crap week, far from home. She needs to allow herself some grace. Don't we all?