I went for a walk in February. Two people walking towards me crossed to the other side of the street as I approached. I felt self-conscious and wondered about their avoidance.

I went for a walk in March. Two people walking towards me crossed to the other side of the street as I approached. I felt connected and grateful. We exchanged smiles and waves.

Understanding the intention behind the gesture can make all the difference.

The wish that things will go back to the way they used to be ...

... is a wasted wish.

We have influence on the future, but not so much that we can turn it into the past.

The good thing is, we have the ability to work toward making things better. At any given moment, that options is available to us. And that should give us hope.

It’s less often that we’re sure of a perfect fit.

When we’re putting together a jigsaw puzzle, usually — as we hold a piece — we only have a guess about where it will fit. Even as we place it.

“Hmm. Let’s try it here.”

If we waited until we were one hundred percent certain of the fit, we’d rarely place a piece.

It’s this way with so many things. We don’t really know exactly when things will fit. We make reasonable calculations, but it’s hard to be certain.

And then when pieces do fit, we’re often surprised by where things align and by the new patterns that are formed.

But waiting for certainty and perfection? That’s an awfully difficult way to put things together.

A clenched fist can neither accept nor offer peace.

How can we learn to live with open hands?

And how can we teach others to do the same?

Yesterday, you were going to do great things.

You were going to be your best self. Passionate. Selfless. Productive. Even-tempered. Admirable.

And maybe you screwed it up.

Maybe a little. Maybe a lot.

* * *

Be the first to forgive yourself. Do it completely.

Then, start again.

This isn’t yesterday. This is today, and it’s a brand new gift.

If you can’t see it, then listen for it.

And if you can’t hear it, then feel for it.

And if you can’t touch it, then try to smell it, or taste it ... or merely sense it.

However you choose to find north in turbulent times, it’s important to trust yourself.

Yes, listen to the experts. That’s paramount.

But also trust your own ability to navigate uncharted waters.

You’re the captain of the ship that is you. You always have been, and you are today, too.

When we feel like we’re note being heard, sometimes we want to increase the volume.

If only we were louder, then they would hear us.

But in non-urgent, non-emergency situations … if we become too loud, people sometimes stop listening for content, and they start considering our emotional stability.

Instead of hearing the important message that we so desperately need to share, they begin thinking about our ability to control ourselves.

* * *

Shouting is always communicating. It’s just that sometimes, it communicates the wrong thing.

When things start to go sideways, our instinct is to tighten our grip.

In those times, it’s useful to remember: gripping the steering wheel tighter does not actually give us more control.

H/T Marie

In a recent conversation with a friend, I recalled the phrase related to generosity and self-care: “You can’t pour from an empty vessel.”

My friend brilliantly pointed out the other side of this metaphor: you can’t pour into a vessel that’s full.

How true. A completely full vessel leaves no room for curiosity, vulnerability, open-mindedness, growth, and learning.

It’s subtle, but there’s an important balance between being filled … and not being full.

When we consume news, we never reach a point where we feel satiated. It’s not like consuming food. There’s never an empty plate. And never a feeling of being full.

News is constant. It’s endless and we can’t process all of it.

So it’s wise to set limits. Maybe it’s a few curated email briefings each day. Maybe a trustworthy news program. Maybe it’s just ten minutes of daily reading. Or twenty.

Whatever the strategy, “consuming all of it,” is not viable. The more we try, the more we keep ourselves from doing the work that matters.

By giving ourselves the grace to step away from the news after a period of time — and to abandon the illusion of knowing it all — we give ourselves the ability to take a deep dive into our own endeavors.

A great way to not finish a project is to give yourself endless time to do it.

Instead, mark the calendar. Set a date. Introduce a time constraint.

A deadline is a gift to yourself. Done right, and you’ll have a finished project ... plus the opportunity to start another.

Two gifts in one.

Like generations that preceded us, we too are tested: what will we do for the sake of others?

The common application of this question today relates to our planet — the long, complex, non-urgent problem of taking care of Earth. What are we doing today that will affect how future generations live?

But our more pressing test is in how we respond to a global pandemic. Beyond protecting ourselves and our families ... what will we do in service of others? How do we help to flatten the curve of a rapidly spreading virus?

Will we suffer the inconvenience of cancelling a vacation? Can we tolerate staying home instead of visiting the local pub? Will we buy only what we need so there is enough for others?

* * *

May we act in ways that will earn the gratitude of our neighbors today and of generations to come. May we be able to look back upon this time and to say, “See? Amidst monumental challenges and widespread tragedy, look how we rose to the occasion. Look at how the best of us drew forth from the best of ourselves ... for the sake of all of us.”

A short rant about email auto-replies.

“I will have limited access to email” is a phrase often used in out-of-office replies. I accept the statement, but I suspect that it’s rarely true.

Yes, there are times when we go off the grid. Into the woods. On a spaceship. Into a fallout shelter. Places without a signal, without Wi-Fi, and without Internet.

But these cases are atypical. When we say “access to email will be limited” what we usually mean is something like:

• I’m taking personal time and I won’t be checking business email.

• Responding to work emails while I’m travelling is a challenge. I might not reply until I return.

• I’m out-of-office, so I’m only replying to critical, time-sensitive messages.

I received a “limited email access” auto-reply yesterday. And more than likely, what the sender meant was, “We’ve been working remotely because of the COVID-19 pandemic. These are new challenges and we don’t have all the answers. We also don’t have a solid plan, and as a result my reply will likely be delayed.”

It wouldn’t have been the best marketing tactic, but I’d have respected the candor.

Amidst so much change and uncertainty, now is not the time for a canned auto-reply. Now is the time for leadership and clarity in communication.

There are enough problems — big and small — that we can spend all of our time in distress ... feeling overwhelmed and frustrated.

But it’s also possible for us to focus on just one problem — something worthy of our attention — and to bring the best of our skills and talents to bear upon that issue. To not throw our hands up in despair saying, “There’s too much. I can’t do it all,” but to open our hands and hearts and to say, “Here’s what I can do, and here’s how I can help."

“I can’t miss this appointment.”

“This event has to happen.”

“There’s no way we can postpone.”

Except that we fall ill. Or there’s a natural disaster. Or a pandemic. Or something else outside of our control.

And then our perspective shifts. What was once priority number one quickly finds its way to the back burner.

But amidst the challenges, we find that we’re rather resilient. That when so much is turned upside down, we surprise ourselves by remaining right side up. Or by learning how to see things upside down.

That in a world of constraints, we don’t shut down — we find ways to create beauty.

I’ve read this phrase a lot in the past week. “We will continue to monitor the situation closely.”

The pandemic we’re facing brings immense change and uncertainty. As a result, different organizations are adopting different strategies based on the latest news reports.

The hope, however, is that the leaders we trust are always monitoring relevant situations closely. That they’re always operating with their eyes open and making course corrections as necessary.

It’s what effective leaders do. Not just in times of global crisis.

But always.

If you planned to attend a two-hour event ... and it’s cancelled at the last minute ... what happens with that time?

Does that now-empty slot on your schedule fill itself with a scroll through the internet? An episode on Netflix? A trashy novel? A celebrity news feed?

Or does it become a fog where you’re not really sure how the time slips by?

In 1665, when Trinity College sent students home during the Great Plague of London, Isaac Newton worked on math problems which would become early calculus, as well as theories on optics and gravity. Yes, that theory on gravity.

We’re facing weeks, and potentially months of closures, cancellations, and schedule adjustments. Health and safety is our primary concern. But beyond that, many of us will have new, unoccupied time slots on our calendars.

How will we bring intention to that time? And how will we bring the best of who we are to our new schedules?

Lots of things are on pause, but we don’t have to be.

Sincere caring necessitates action.

When we pay lip service to an issue, but do nothing else, we’re pacifying a guilty conscience. Or we’re polishing how others perceive us in order to maintain social status.

When we care, we act.

Change doesn’t come from people caring; it comes from people acting when they care.

In an effort to fight the exponential spread of COVID-19, international health organizations are recommending social distancing. This helps fight the spread of a virus by maintaining physical distance between people. It worked in St. Louis to flatten the curve of the Spanish flu in 1918. It will help today, too.

Social distancing, however, does not mean that we are isolated. We live in a time where we are more connected than ever. But the onus is upon us to use technology to intentionally cultivate and maintain close social ties. To see each other. To listen to each other. Friends. Families. Community members. Strangers.

A period of separation is upon us, but our time for connection is more important than ever.

Wishing good health to you and the people you love.

If you’re not enrolled in a course where you can sit in the front, fully engaged, raising your hand, and asking questions ... then you’d be wise to revisit your course selection.

* * *

While this can apply to education, it’s much more powerful when read as a metaphor.