Three Lessons For Creating Unforgettable Experiences

games, playing, child

As those close to me know, over the past few weeks, I’ve been knee-deep in some new projects. Projects I haven’t been this excited to produce in a long while. One of which is around experiences.

At the same time, as friends and long-time readers of this humble blog know, I am no stranger to the world of social experiments and experiences. I still don’t have a great catch-all term for it. They’re not just another set of “events.” Events just remind me of the same conference, fireside chat, or happy hour playbook. But I try to take my events a step further. So, naturally, given my fascination around building experiences, I walk hand-in-hand with both psychological research and game design. The former of which I share a bit more in previous blogposts than the latter.

So, I’m going to dedicate this essay to three of the lessons I picked up in the latter.

  1. Create experiences that optimize for people who know no one else there.
  2. Don’t confuse complexity with depth.
  3. A great event is great not due to the event itself, but because of the story one gets to tell again and again.

1. Create experiences that optimize for people who know no one else there.

I had always had this somewhere in the back of my head. To design experiences where no one was ever left out. But when I caught up with a friend recently in New York, he codified it into what it is today. As someone who runs a design studio that builds immersive experiences in New York, he spends most of his time building experiences for strangers. And while friends may visit his exhibits together, the vast majority of his attendees do not know anyone else.

Take, for example, happy hours. Most happy hours aren’t designed for the person who knows no one. Usually the event itself is fairly laissez-faire. Most of which, the hosts don’t actively try to connect attendees. And so if you show up at a happy hour and the host is too busy to intro you to anyone, unless you’re an outgoing person, you’re likely standing near the edges, hoping to jump into a conversation if any group will let you. This often leads to events where people leave early and form cliques. It also optimizes for early birds, rather than the fashionably late.

Tactically, it’s creating excuses for people to jump in conversation. While not a problem for outgoing individuals, I need to empower everyone, including shy introverts, with tools to start conversations, where I and/or the experience shoulder the initial responsibility and blame to start conversations. That could be with customized fortune cookies where one is supposed to read their fortune to someone else. Or empowering people with a mission or an ask greater than themselves. For instance, to over-simplify it a bit, “I’m trying to put together a small group of everyone who’s wearing glasses tonight. Do you mind helping me find out all the names of the guests who are wearing glasses?” Or “I’m trying to resolve a debate with my co-host. Pineapples or no pineapples on pizza. I’m all for pineapples, but she isn’t. Can you help me find more allies?”

2. Don’t confuse complexity with depth.

This is unfortunately a fallacy I often find myself spiraling down the longer I’m given to ponder. And I lose myself in intellectual complexity.

Many years ago when a couple friend and I first decided to host an escape room in a mansion over three days and two nights, the greatest question we had was: How do we create an immersive experience over multiple days? And retain that level of immersion throughout? I thought, hell, what if we created a brand new language for the event. One that all guests would have to learn and practice throughout the event. We’d ease them in slowly, but the biggest puzzle could only be solved through adequate mastery in this new language. This easily gave me the greatest injection of dopamine when planning for the event. And I went deep, talking with linguistic professors, studying how Tolkien created Quenya, and how Cameron and Paul Frommer created the Na’vi language.

It was truly interesting to me and to many of my friends. But unfortunately, through user testing, to most others, while interesting to hear its backstory, was not fun to practice. I had ended up developing it to a level to where it departed from its English roots to resembling language of Scandinavian origin. Because of its complexity and how there were more guests who were English speakers than speakers of this new language, immersion broke almost instantaneously.

The great Mark Rosewater once defined interesting as intellectual stimulation and fun as emotional stimulation. While they’re not mutually exclusive, it’s important to not confuse the two.

There’s a great Maya Angelou line that I, like many others, like to reference. “People will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” And it is no less true for gamified designs. Emotional satisfaction often runs deeper and longer than intellectual satisfaction. The former has a greater chance of becoming a “core memory,” to borrow from the brilliant minds behind Pixar’s Inside Out, than the latter.

I was lucky to learn this lesson from one of the greatest designers of card games alive today. It was on a call earlier this year, where I was telling him about all the awesome bells and whistles I was planning on implementing for an upcoming experience. And I asked what he thought. To which, he responded: “Kill all complexity. Complexity is not a substitute for depth. Rely on your audience for depth. The more borders, the harder it is enjoy. Too few, it’s chaotic. Find the absolute minimum number of borders.”

The goal of creating systems is to create opportunities for serendipity. To create opportunities where people can dive deep. Not to force people to take the plunge when they may not be ready.

His advice just happens to rhyme with a quote I’ve always kept somewhere in the back of my mind, but now sits on the wall above my PC.

“Your ability to solve problems with magic in a satisfying way is directly proportional to how well the reader understands said magic.” — Sanderson’s First Law of Magic

3. A great event is great not due to the event itself, but because of the story one gets to tell again and again.

Under the ambiance of MarieBelle, which I still so fondly remember the moment my friend told me this, she said, “A great event is great not due to the event itself, but because of the story one gets to tell again and again.” It’s the truest definition of surprising and delighting. She was someone who used to work on the Dreamweavers team at Eleven Madison Park when Will Guidara was still there. As such the above lesson was a page out of Will Guidara‘s book Unreasonable Hospitality, whose best known for how intentionally he took front of the house hospitality at 11 Madison Park, one of the greatest restaurants in the world. 4 stars on New York Times, and 3 Michelin stars. He also happened to be the person who conceived the Dreamweavers team there. Just to give you an idea of how seriously they take their roles

First off, the core of the event itself the meat, the protein has to be great. If it’s a tofu burger, it better be a damn well-marinated fat slice of egg tofu, double-fried to perfection. To Malcolm Gladwell, that’s the meal.

And only once you have it all, what’s the cherry on top? What’s the candy? Why would people want to talk about it? For events, that’s:

  • Delivering surprises gifts and/or experiences they do not expect
  • Transferrable pieces of knowledge insights, frameworks, or trivia knowledge that are useful even after the event
  • Meeting great people WITH great stories “Did you know that [so-and-so] did X?” And for this to happen not just opportunistically but at scale, finding ways to help people share stories of vulnerability or of adventures that have yet to grace any public media is key. The easiest way is through questions. The slightly harder way is through a set of triggers where it makes sharing such a story natural.

In closing

I am, as always, a work-in-progress. And with the events I’ll continue to host this year, I’m going to learn more. And in time, be able to share more of my lessons, trials, and tribulations in this journey. In hopes, this will aid or inspire you on your path.

Photo by Holly Landkammer on Unsplash


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The views expressed on this blogpost are for informational purposes only. None of the views expressed herein constitute legal, investment, business, or tax advice. Any allusions or references to funds or companies are for illustrative purposes only, and should not be relied upon as investment recommendations. Consult a professional investment advisor prior to making any investment decisions.

Quirks That Just Make Sense

different, quirky, weird

“Here’s to the crazy ones, the misfits, the rebels, the troublemakers, the round pegs in the square holes… the ones who see things differently — they’re not fond of rules, and they have no respect for the status quo… You can quote them, disagree with them, glorify or vilify them, but the only thing you can’t do is ignore them because they change things… They push the human race forward, and while some may see them as the crazy ones, we see genius, because the people who are crazy enough to think that they can change the world, are the ones who do.”
— Steve Jobs

We live in a world where everyone is seeking validation from some kind of audience — large or small. And I’ve come to realize over the years that as long as we’re chasing what most people want, we will eventually be like most people. And truth be told, forgettable. Speaking for myself, I will just be a number in a sea of sameness, rather than THE number.

I realized later than I would have liked that I didn’t want to be like everyone else, after being inspired by a rejection email from someone I deeply respect when she replied with four words “Be interested and interesting.” And I count myself lucky to be surrounded by people who think different, to borrow a phrase Steve Jobs loves. For some, that means going where no human has gone before. For others, it’s a means to live their most fulfilling life.

So, I can only thank my good buddy Matt — one of the most outlier and honest-to-goodness thinkers I know — for the alchemical jazz that birthed this blogpost. Our only ask is that you suspend judgment until you reach the end. What may seem eccentric at first glance may prove to be the kernel of inspiration you didn’t know you needed today.

Below is only a snippet of quirks — seven to be exact — that make the two of us us, but hoping this inspires a larger conversation of people being unapologetically themselves.

  1. The whiteboard in the shower: Leaving no shower thought unturned
  2. Dream journaling: Better access to conscious and subconscious memory
  3. High-quality notebooks: Evergreen homes to high-quality ideas
  4. The Emotional Catalog: The vending machine of emotions
  5. The Excite-o-Meter: Matt’s personal Stoke Diary
  6. Marriage counseling: A recipe for strong co-founder relationships
  7. Restaurant recipes: It never hurts to ask

1. The whiteboard in the shower: Leaving no shower thought unturned

There are only two kinds of reactions I get when I tell people this. Utter bewilderment. And, what I call, sparkle-eyes.

Many of my best ideas happen in the shower. In fact, about 60-70% of the topics I write about on this blogpost found its origin in the shower. But, forget myself for a second. There’s a whole movement in the world called shower thoughts. There’s also some great academic literature on the subject — that hot showers open your pores, helps your blood circulate, and put you in dopamine-high, yet relaxed states, just to name a few. But whether the science matters or not here, one of my biggest frustrations in life is losing access to great ideas just because I couldn’t commit it to memory or document them. Many of mine merely happen to start in the shower.

So, with a small purchase of a $10 whiteboard and $15-20 rainproof markers, you’ll be set.

2. Dream journaling: Better access to conscious and subconscious memory

I’ve been fascinated by dreams ever since I was a kid. Luckily, blessed by vivid imagination, I was able to synthesize the art, movies, and stories I was consuming into interactive experiences in the amphitheater of my mind. To me, dreams were the ever-evolving playground that very few tangible experiences could rival. I’m gonna be hated for saying this, but I remember the day I was let down by the Disneyland promise. I was only seven. And I told myself that day, I would start trying to remember my dreams.

You see, as fantastically awesome as dreams are, the only downside is I forget the vast majority of them within seconds of waking up.

So, for a long, long time, I’ve been dream journaling. I have a notebook by my bedside. And every time, I remember a dream, I write it down and/or draw it out. Even if all I remember is a single word or a single image. Over time, I get better at it. The better I get at capturing my dreams, the more intentional I get.

There’s now a whole slew of literature on the topic, but for me, it’s fun. And an interesting byproduct of it all is I seem to have better memory than most of my peers.

3. High-quality notebooks: Evergreen homes to high-quality ideas

This is truly a prime example that while we all come from different backgrounds, curious minds can reach the same conclusion from different angles. That’s exactly what happened when Matt and I were ideating for this blogpost when we realized we both graduated from ten-cent back-to-school-sale spiral-bound notebooks.

The more expensive the notebook, the more respect you treat it with, and the higher quality of thoughts you will entrust it to house. Think of it like sunk cost fallacy. After all, it’d be a pity to leave the sacred halls between the two leather covers unadorned with ideas that would complement the quality of the frame.

To Matt and I, our weapon of choice is Leuchtturm1917. For myself, undeniably, paper that boasts the density of 150 g/m2.

4. The Emotional Catalog: The vending machine of emotions

The human emotional spectrum is fascinating, yet quite volatile and unreliable when you most need it. For instance, I know I’m not alone in this, but I used to always find myself feeling anger and aggression upon hearing constructive feedback, rather than curiosity. That I felt anxiety and overwhelmed when on stage rather than excitement and confidence. That I felt frustrated and discouraged when writing blogposts when I want to feel inspired.

So when I committed to this blog in 2019, I started keeping tabs on when I feel strong emotions, hoping to preserve these emotions in cryogenic slumber and awakening them when I needed them most. I keep a Google Doc that has a glossary of emotions in it — from joy to anger, from optimism to jealousy, from compassion to sadness, just to name a few. And each time I consume a medium that inspires a certain emotion, I include it in that doc. They become my shots of espresso when I’m just on the wrong side of the bed.

For example, I find inspiration from Ratatouille. Or Avatar. Or Admiral William McRaven’s UT Austin commencement speech. I feel grateful after watching The Blind Side. Yet, if I want to feel sad, I watch Thai life insurance commercials (here’s an example of one). Envy, from select friends’ Facebook/LinkedIn posts. Direction, from Kurt Vonnegut or Brandon Sanderson’s lectures. And the list goes on.

5. The Excite-o-Meter: Matt’s personal Stoke Diary

Matt: I’m a big believer that energy is palpable, but ephemeral. Like a wisp of smoke, energy is beautiful and can dazzle and inspire, but it fades… eventually. The buzz dies down, and it saddens me. That’s why I’ve developed a practice to immortalize positive energy – by keeping a running list labeled “Excite-o-Meter.” It’s my personal Stoke Diary.

Here’s how it works.

At the beginning of every week, I create a “dashboard” in a specific notebook I have for work –- a two-page canvas that I reference back to throughout the week. Page one contains items that I detail at the beginning of the week, like my “Big Rocks” (priorities for the week) and “Principles to Uphold” (personal growth tenets I aspire to embody). 

Page two is more dynamic. It contains running logs of moments that captivated me in the present, that I choose to immortalize.

I allocate 25% of page two to the “Key Learnings” of the week. But the real magic happens with the other 75% of the page. I label this section “Excite-o-Meter.”

My rule is that anytime my excitement exceeds a very scientifically-defined 7/10, I jot it down immediately. 

Reached alignment on a cross-functional project that was birthed out of a chaotic primordial soup of conflicting objectives? Jotted. 

Overcame a once-limiting belief, reminding myself that I hold the paintbrush against the canvas of my life? Jotted. 

My SQL query finally ran after debugging it for 24 minutes? Jotted.

At the individual level, it helps me memorialize the moment, etching it down onto my notebook and simultaneously, my mind. But when I read the log in periods of reflection, when I browse weeks worth of “Excite-o-Meter” entries – it reminds me of who I am. Of what gets me to tick. Of what makes me experience pure exuberance. It’s my Stoke Diary, and it’s my ever-growing source of inspiration.

6. Marriage counseling: A recipe for strong co-founder relationships

Two and a half years ago, after a conversation with one of my favorite founders, I stumbled across the parallels of marriages and co-founder relationships. Ever since, while I don’t do so with any element of regularity, I’ve found couple counseling to be a huge unlock to demystifying sticky co-founder dynamics, hell, even how to make amends with friends.

7. Restaurant recipes: It never hurts to ask

I stumbled across this one quite accidentally. So, one of the things I’m quite known for among my group of friends is that I like bringing a notebook with me almost everywhere. And there have been multiple times that for a party of two, I’ve been the first to arrive. In hopes to capture my thoughts and ideas before they dissipate into the cosmos, as soon as I am seated at the restaurant, I immediately start to take notes. Additionally, when I ponder, I tend to look around as if my eyes were bees just hovering above sunflowers in a prairie without any intent to rest on any particular nectary.

That, in effect, without even noticing it myself, makes me look like a food critic — to which I’ve been offered complimentary drinks and appetizers while waiting for my dinner guest. On occasion, they serve me something I wouldn’t have ordered myself and I love it. And well, being a curious home cook I am, I had to ask how they make it, in hopes of replicating the flavor and/or texture profile at home. And I remember the first time I worked up my courage to ask, the chef de cuisine hand-wrote out her full recipe and gave it to me at the end of the meal.

Ever since, every time I like a dish at a restaurant, I give my compliments to the chef and politely ask for the recipe. Most times I get a thank you but no, but surprisingly and anecdotally, about 40-50% of the time, I actually get the recipe. And in a small, small handful of times, the chef shows me how to make the dish live.

In closing

Most people don’t self-describe themselves as quirky. Neither do they seek to find a quirk that best describes them. Quirks are products of self-discovery and unadulterated problem-solving at its purest. Bespoke solutions to ones’ problems, unabated from society’s judgmental eye, birthed by the crazy ones. And that is something Matt and I find magical.

In fact, when Matt brought up this topic with his bud, Rebecca, recently, she described it best, “Quirks are an evolutionary adaptation. They stand out and persist because they survive. Because they are a survival mechanism. Everyone has a bunch of systems. I have a way of organizing my notes, packing my suitcase, curating my notes, and a bunch more.”

While the purpose of this blogpost isn’t for you to pick what quirks you like and copy them (while we won’t stop you if you do), rather, we hope this helps you better understand where quirks come from. And just maybe, this will help you build the blueprint schematics to what makes you you.

Photo by Mulyadi on Unsplash


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Any views expressed on this blog are mine and mine alone. They are not a representation of values held by On Deck, DECODE, or any other entity I am or have been associated with. They are for informational and entertainment purposes only. None of this is legal, investment, business, or tax advice. Please do your own diligence before investing in startups and consult your own adviser before making any investments.