I asked a friend about his job and what he thinks his department should be doing that they’re not doing.

“If you were in charge ... if you didn’t have to ask permission ... what would you do? What changes would you make? What would enable your department do its best work?”

He mentioned four things.

Here’s what’s remarkable: without needing approval or additional resources, he can already implement three of those four things — including the thing he identified as most important.

* * *

Sometimes we’re capable of making things right ... and we just don’t stop to recognize that capability.

Sometimes our biggest roadblock is ourselves. That we have a mindset of limitation.

Maybe it’s not about “what would you do” ... maybe it’s about what will you do. Because maybe you can.

It’s one thing to wait for the right opportunity. But if you’re not ready to leap when the opportunity presents itself, then you’ll miss it.

Waiting is more than just being vigilant; it’s also being poised to act.

Your posture is part of your readiness.

Yesterday, I saw a young baseball outfielder miss catching a fly ball. He slumped his shoulders and hung his head as the ball continued past him and nestled at the bottom of the fence.

A teammate had been sprinting towards him, and finished the play ... quickly grabbing the ball and throwing it hard into the infield.

Most of the time, we’re not as fortunate to have a teammate who’s there to chase the ball we’ve dropped.

Most of the time, the onus is upon us to be quick on our feet. To recognize our personal responsibility and to play our position with heart.

Yes, there will be times we stumble, and we may be judged for it. But we will also be judged by what we do immediately afterwards.

After all, everybody stumbles. How we recover often ends up having more significance.

What is it like to be your friend?

What is it like to be your coworker?

What is it like to be your partner?

What is it like to be your neighbor?

When we ask ourselves, “What is it like to interact with me?” it gives us an opportunity to imagine someone else’s experience of the world with us in it.

Sometimes this practice results in us feeling good about who we are and how we live.

And sometimes it challenges us to make an adjustment. A change in attitude. A change in our approach. A change in our action. A change in effort.

It begins by asking the question, “What is the world like with me in it?”

There’s no direct correlation between eloquence and good ideas.

Plenty of skilled speakers have bad ideas, and plenty of brilliant minds struggle to bring voice to their thoughts.

The challenge is in identifying the good ideas ... even when they’re whispered, or awkwardly presented ... and to be wise enough to look past the polished fluff.

Without purpose, we lose focus. Without purpose, we can become distracted by shiny things.

Problem is, our world is filled with shiny things. There’s an endless supply.

And those shiny things don’t care about us. They have no concern for our goals and our hopes and our dreams. They’re just shiny things that seek our attention.

Let’s focus on our goals. Let’s recommit to our purpose. Let’s make sure those shiny distractions don’t keep us from being our best selves.

“We’ve always done this, so we’ll keep doing it.”

This can be a good thing ... if the thing is serving us well. If it’s working.

But “what we’ve always done” doesn’t always maintain effectiveness in an ever-changing world.

Unless, of course, “what we’ve always done” is “periodically questioned what we do to ensure that we’re doing what’s best.”

If that’s the case, then we should keep doing what we’ve always done.

Some people seem to stay the same as time goes by. But people can change.

When they do, it can take time for us to understand or accept the change (not that it’s even ours to understand or accept).

If we’ve already made up our mind about a person, it’s a lot easier to stick to the story we know.

It takes emotional labor to navigate a change in someone else. It takes curiosity, empathy, and open-mindedness to learn about a person’s new interests, new values, new habits, or new identity.

But that’s our challenge. To loosen our grip on “I know all about you” and to embrace the idea of “I’m curious about you, and I want to know more” ... even for people whose story we think we already know.

The person with whom I had an appointment was ten minutes late.

She began, shaking her head, “I’m so sorry. There was a ... “ and then she stopped herself.

She looked at me and smiled. “I’m not going to give excuses. But sorry we’re getting started late.”

And that was that. No excuses. No story. Just on to the work at hand.

I was quite happy. Not that I wouldn’t have listened or been sympathetic. But offering the excuse wasn’t necessary, and it would have put us further behind schedule.

Sometimes, we don’t need an excuse. We just need an apology, or a “thanks for being so patient” and then we can move on to business.

At the career fair, Amber was the only recruiter from her company. For five hours, the line of candidates remained steady, with new arrivals every few minutes.

She could have conducted interviews all day without a single break.

Instead, she chose a better option. Mid-day with a kind smile, she let those in line know that she would need to step away for a quick lunch.

The candidates scattered.

When Amber returned, so did the line.

* * *

If we’re not careful, systems will work us to exhaustion. If we choose to work without ceasing — to the point of our own mental and physical exhaustion — we can. The system will allow it.

But we can also choose to take care of ourselves. To step away when we need to step away.

And in most cases, our work will be waiting for us when we return to our posts, and we can begin again … refreshed and ready.

Yesterday, I heard someone say, “I’m not good with money.”

When we say things like this, we imply a state of permanence. A condition that cannot be changed. Something innate.

What if instead, this person had said, “I haven’t yet learned how to manage money.”

There’s a change. A shift. A posture of growth. An attitude of, “I can improve if I choose to improve.”

When we substitute “I’m not” with “I haven’t yet” we acknowledge our ability to grow, and we nurture the faith we have in ourselves.

We need that nurturing — even if we’re doing it ourselves.

Bigger is not always better. Better is better.

Who’s it for? What’s it for?

Let these questions guide us in our endeavor to build better things, better experiences, and a better world.

If you seek advice from an expert, it’s best to understand the full context of the advice. Some parts may be contingent upon others. For instance:

• Close account A, and open account B.

• Paint the room white, and buy a gray couch.

• Sing it this way, and incorporate guitar.

• Stop eating this, and start eating that.

In each of these scenarios, we can imagine how taking only half of the advice might not work to achieve the intended results.

Ask the expert, “If I only do this one part and ignore the other, what might happen?” Given that candor, don’t be surprised if the advice changes.

Saying, “I’m responsible,” takes some bravery. Owning an outcome — particularly one that’s negative — is not an easy path.

It’s much easier to say, “He chose this,” and “She made that decision,” and “This was their idea.”

But when we assign blame in this way, we will always be victims of the choices that others make.

Saying, “I’m responsible,” not only empowers us ... it positions us to continue making choices, and it enrolls us in the practice of choosing a better future.

Some people like to work long hours as a badge of honor. They sometimes tell others about those long days, too.

But if you’re taking ten hours to do six hours of work ... that badge of honor isn’t very shiny.

If you’re keeping track of something, keep track of the change you’re able to make. Track your impact ... it matters much more than the hours.

Why are we so often concerned with whether our puns are intended?

Maybe we intend to make a pun. Maybe not.

But if we’re not joking around, let’s guide others toward being concerned with the real intention behind our words.

That intention is what’s most important.

Splinter removal doesn’t occur without some discomfort. Maybe even a little pain.

But the healing doesn’t begin until the splinter is removed.

We can’t just ignore the splinter ... hoping it goes away on its own. It must be addressed ... unpleasantness notwithstanding.

As usual, there’s a metaphor here, and it challenges us to use some metaphorical tweezers.

There are times when we’re not in a position of power, and we’re treated unfairly.

So what do we do when the roles are reversed? Do we change the dynamic when we have control? Do we act fairly? Justly?

Or do we “show them what it’s like” ... Do we give the other side a taste of unfairness?

Returning injustice with reciprocal injustice is a downward spiral.

Children often err on the side of eye-for-an-eye conflict resolution.

But we’re not children anymore, and we can model a better way.

You might experience frustration if you give a gift ... and you want to have control over how the recipient uses your gift.

Maybe it’s money. Maybe it’s an article of clothing. Maybe it’s a tool. Maybe it’s advice.

“Here. This is for you,” is an act of generosity.

“Here. This is for you. Now do what I say,” is an attempt to gain control or influence.

We should be careful to know the difference between the two.

Maybe you’ve made a promise about what you’re going to do tomorrow.

That’s great. Keep your promise.

Now, make a promise about what you’re going to do today.

Keep that promise, too.