A prompt for the workforce:
“The work I get paid for _______ the work I love.”
What fills in the blank?
is (or is not)
supports
funds
informs
enhances
is not related to
distracts from
conflicts with
denies
has become
used to be
It’s different for everyone. For you, are you comfortable with the words that fill the blank?
If not, what might you consider changing?
When I’m playing catch with my sons, the rule is, you have to end on a catch.
Sometimes, when it’s time to go inside — wouldn’t you know it — one of them quickly develops the tendency to drop a perfectly thrown ball.
“Oops?”
When we want the game to continue, sometimes we fail on purpose.
This can happen in many areas of our life. Depending on the game we’re playing, sometimes it can be fun to keep it going. Other times, it probably doesn’t serve us well.
Common to large airport terminals, moving walkways can improve a traveler’s pace along a thoroughfare.
Consider how this relates to working alone versus working within an organization.
Alone, your pace is your pace. Each step is the result of your singular effort.
Within an organization, however, it’s possible that your forward motion is complemented by the forward motion of the larger structure. It’s like walking atop a moving walkway.
There’s a tradeoff, of course. In an organization, your influence on direction can be limited.
On your own, there are fewer guard rails, and you get to set the course.
Ultimately, how you like to operate and where you want to go will determine how you choose to travel.
Sometimes the ideas come fast and furious. Other times, they are frustratingly absent.
There’s an ebb and flow in creative work. Each state offers its own challenges.
When ideas are plentiful, it can be difficult to choose a single path. Everything is shiny. Everything has potential. We risk becoming overwhelmed with possibility.
On the other hand, an absence of ideas can be challenging too. The blank page has a way of resisting the first mark. It’s easy to feel stuck.
In the anxious lulls, don’t treat creativity like a lazy servant; see it as an infant that needs gentle care. Be patient and encouraging. Delight in tender beginnings.
And when there are too many ideas on the table, recognize that you’re seeing the infinitude of the universe. Remember that we’re always faced with many choices. That’s a beautiful thing. Sometimes you just have to pick one and go. Choosing all paths is not one of the choices.
All of us stumble; it’s part of being human. But sometimes we catastrophize such stumbling.
There’s a common phrase in Argentina: Un tropiezo no es caída.
A stumble is not a fall.
It’s a simple reminder of hope and the value of having perspective.
The beauty of course-correction is that it can be done at any time.
It requires no special conditions. It promises no particular outcomes.
Yes, it sets a new point on the horizon, but for the near-term, the adjustment is immediate and within reach.
Course-correction is about small changes that will eventually have outsized effects. Let the effects not be our primary concern; instead, let’s focus on the small changes. The long-term positive effects will take care of themselves.
In many situations, faster isn’t harder — it’s just different.
Often, slower is what’s harder … but it can also be more valuable.
Some of the most important and meaningful work we ever do can take only a few minutes or a few hours … but it takes years of gathering up enough nerve to do it.
And that’s OK.
“Many hands make light the work.”
But the hands must volunteer. Or be directed. Or invited.
Without coordination, more hands can become part of the burden instead of the solution.
We live in a world of sufficiency. Not all of us, but many of us.
So much so that we often have leftovers. Leftover food. Leftover time. Leftover energy. Leftover resources. Leftover attention.
And the question is: what do we do with it?
Who wants it? Who needs it? Who deserves it? Who will gladly take it if we don’t make an intentional choice otherwise?
Most of it won’t keep; we can’t hoard it. So where will it make a difference?
Saying “thank you” is a practical courtesy.
It can be short and simple, or laden with detail.
But the best thanks is the kind we express with actions, not words.
Suffering correlates tightly with how much attention we give to things outside of our influence.
Focus on what’s within your control. (And, accept that your mind is often the only item on that short list.)
You don’t attend the funeral because you know what to say. You attend the funeral because simply being present can be of comfort.
Not every act of kindness requires words, gestures, or gifts.
Sometimes what’s needed is your time and attention. Sometimes what’s needed is for you to be present as witness and friend.
The darkest times are often the quietest times.
In those moments, it’s our own voice that speaks loudest.
Don’t amplify the difficulties. Don’t soak in despair.
Be the encourager. Be the gentle coach. Speak words of hope — even if you don’t yet fully believe them.
You are your own travelling partner. Be a supportive guide no matter the weather.
All new. Meticulous attention to detail.
Needs work. Available as-is.
Carefully maintained. Lots of character.
Historic landmark.
Currently occupied by tenants.
These real estate phrases make for entertaining metaphors if we think about how they might describe people and new connections.
I wonder: how would you describe yourself?
Which stopped working first? You or the new habit?
The problem with “will begin to see results in four to six weeks” is that we often don’t have weeks worth of patience. We’d rather see the results right now, thank you very much.
Whether it’s a new medicine, a fitness routine, a creative practice, or studying new material … change doesn’t always happen overnight. More often, change is gradual. And for what might seem like too long, change can be invisible. Like a germinating seed, the (important) initial stages of growth can be hidden from our eyes.
Trust the process. Give it time. Work worth doing is reward worth waiting.
We all start somewhere.
Nothing says we have to keep starting from that same place.
Often, it’s a choice.
Nodding your head is easy, much easier than taking follow-up action.
It’s thrilling to discover new ideas and truths. We read something and think, “Yes! Exactly!” But highlights, underlines, and sticky notes don’t amount to change.
Indeed, the gulf between theory and practice can be huge.
The question is often: Now that I know this, what will I do?
“I am not throwin’ away my shot.”
Lin-Manuel Miranda’s Hamilton teaches us the importance of taking our shot.
But it’s just as important to remember that for the most part, we get many shots. Maybe not a second shot at the same thing, but other shots in other situations. Some might even be bigger. Many will be smaller.
Whether we win or lose, leap or freeze, new opportunities will always be on the horizon.
So take your shot, and then look for the next. It will be along.
What are your rules for living? Do you play it by ear? Perhaps you’ve written them down. Maybe yours are drawn from sacred texts.
If you haven’t codified them, it could be useful. It could be helpful, too, to browse others’ rules.
Take clinical psychologist Jordan B. Peterson’s list. The table of contents from his book 12 Rules for Life is compelling, even without further explanation.
Rule 1 / Stand up straight with your shoulders back
Rule 2 / Treat yourself like someone you are responsible for helping
Rule 3 / Make friends with people who want the best for you
Rule 4 / Compare yourself to who you were yesterday, not to who someone else is today
Rule 5 / Do not let your children do anything that makes you dislike them
Rule 6 / Set your house in perfect order before you criticize the world
Rule 7 / Pursue what is meaningful (not what is expedient)
Rule 8 / Tell the truth—or, at least, don’t lie
Rule 9 / Assume that the person you are listening to might know something you don’t
Rule 10 / Be precise in your speech
Rule 11 / Do not bother children when they are skateboarding
Rule 12 / Pet a cat when you encounter one on the street
What are some of your own guiding principles? (I’d love to hear them.)
