Availability can’t be ignored; it’s a necessary part of the equation.

When we work with what’s available, projects can move forward.

When we insist upon specific materials or conditions, we’re at the mercy of availability.

Projects often face this critical crossroad: wait for the ideal, or work with what’s available.

Mostly, we take the approach of “best available” rather than putting ourselves in an indefinite holding pattern (though sometimes, waiting is our only option).

But if we find ourselves in too many holding patterns, it’s worth considering whether it has to do with availability, or if we’re stalling for other reasons.

If someone shouts “Time!” during a baseball game, usually it’s a call for suspension of play. That is, “Time-out.”

If someone shouts “Time!” during a soccer match, it’s usually a shorthand message to the player controlling the ball: “Don’t rush. You have time before any defenders become a significant threat.”

Same words, different games, different meanings.

In life, the signs and signals we send and receive … they’re not universal.

When we send a message (or try to decode what’s being conveyed to us) we need to know what game is being played.

When we make ripples in a pond we can witness the effects — at least, on the surface.

But the ripples we make in life … some of them we see, many we don’t. Nevertheless, we’re making ripples all the time.

So part of it is having faith that we’re making an impact, even when we can’t fully see it.

Sometimes, the ripples will call back to us, and our hearts will be filled knowing that we’ve made a difference.

But either way — even without sight and sound — ripples we will continue to make.

“Here. We have boxes of money for you. Take them.”

“I just don’t know. So many boxes. How will I move these? And where will I put them? Do I have to recycle the cardboard? It all just seems so complicated.”

* * *

There’s the old saying, “Where there’s a will there’s a way.”

And yet. Sometimes there’s a clear way, but no will. Instead, there’s fear or apprehension or uncertainty or resistance.

It’s up to us to listen to our inner thoughts carefully. Well-reasoned caution has a particular voice. Over-cautious fear has another. It’s good to know the difference.

H/T David

There is a cost, always.

Of buying. But also of not buying.
Of doing. And of not doing.
Of speaking. And of silence.
Of connecting and of isolating.
Of going and of staying.

Costs are on both sides. But there are benefits on both sides, too.

Where we go wrong is in overvaluing the status quo … because the cost of change seems easy to calculate and uncomfortably disruptive.

But all too often, the status quo can cost us more.

Every experience in your life has led up to this very moment.

And every moment in your life has given you the experience you need to navigate today.

We are an enduringly able culmination, ready for whatever may come.

One symptom of love is that we begin to care about what others care about. The degree of separation finds a bridge.

“I care about it because you care about it.”
”I love them because you love them.”

In a sense, when we love someone else, their cares become our cares.

And when we say, “To you and yours,” indeed we mean it.

The most challenging matchup isn’t you against the world. The most challenging matchup is you against you.

But take heart: depending on how you look at things, the odds may be in your favor.

During the first major snowfall after I turned sixteen, my father gave me the keys to the car and said, “Go find an empty parking lot and learn how to drive in the snow.”

I knew the concepts from driver’s school, but I had never experienced the real thing.

Sure enough, spinning around for thirty minutes taught me plenty about how to maneuver the vehicle in slippery conditions. It was fun, too.

* * *

Find the snowy parking lots in life. Go where you can learn and play without causing any real damage. And don’t just go slow: purposely find the edge of control so you know what to do when things start to go sideways.

Because sometimes we have to leave dry pavement to learn valuable lessons.

The ideas don’t always come from within.

Because the universe is generous to creative spirits.

And there are times when the ideas are presented to us, fully formed.

Yes, we have to do the work.

But the spark can given to us.

We just have to be open.

Typical days and atypical days.

No matter what we experience — joys and sorrows, wins and losses — this is the cycle we navigate. We have many typical days, and a few atypical days. It’s hard to say which are more consequential.

Perhaps what we can consider is the way we approach either kind of day. We never know if a day will be typical or atypical, but we can choose to bring our same, resilient, intentional self to both.

This email could have been a meeting.

Productivity seekers gladly condemn unnecessary meetings whose purpose could have been achieved through a well-written email.

Agreed.

But let’s not live through posts, texts, and emails. Let’s remember the value of face-to-face.

Let’s meet intentionally. Let’s gather with purpose. Let’s connect in the way nature designed.

Our shortcuts and shorthand are the wheels of culture.

But synchronous meeting — in time and space — feeds us in ways that the shortcuts do not.

Every leap involves a little bit of uncertainty. But just because there’s uncertainty doesn’t mean we need to jump stiff-legged with our eyes closed. We can aim, we can cultivate vision, and we can plan for soft landings.

It might not always turn out the way we’d like, but there’s a lot we can do to avoid sprained ankles and broken legs.

Leaping is part of any meaningful endeavor. But the courage to leap doesn’t have to come without a plan to land; in fact, it shouldn’t. We can learn to do both.

Sometimes you noodle your way into a melody. You start with a note, then you respond to that note … and you keep going. Before long, you’ve got something.

Many creative paths can work this way. Whether it’s a daily blog or a practice of drawing and painting or some other regular act. Sometimes you just start somewhere and you see where it goes.

Some people think that artist have special gifts.

Maybe so.

But mostly, it’s a practice of starting and following. People who have convinced themselves that they’re not creative are simply not doing either.

January Second: that’s today. What a great day to have a January First mentality.

Because we can call upon that kind of optimism and vision whenever we choose.

The thing about fresh starts is that they’re regularly available to us.

Even today.

Today isn’t a special day of big promises, new beginnings, and fresh starts.

Rather, it’s another day as always. Same as yesterday, same as tomorrow.

Special in a sense that every day is special. Expectant with possibility like every moment of every day.

So make promises. Make commitments. Begin new habits.

But not in a way that’s different from what you would have done yesterday. And not in a way that’s different from what you’ll do tomorrow.

A day becomes a memorable inflection point when you make it so — whenever it happens during the year.

As we make, we too, are being made.

As we create, we play part in our own creation.

As we act upon others, indeed, we act upon ourselves.

While assembling a flatpack cabinet, I was ready to retrieve some bar clamps to help coax two stubborn pieces into place. That’s when I realized a single dowel wasn’t aligned to its hole. With a minor adjustment, all the pieces slid together effortlessly.

How often do we choose force when the situation calls for alignment? Or short-term command and control instead of the slower work of gaining enrollment?

There are plenty of times when clamps, ratchet straps, and hammers are exactly what’s needed. But often, thoughtful investigation will reveal a smoother, more effective path forward.

What if the next interaction you had was recorded, reviewed, and evaluated as part of your job interview?

Whether it’s a conversation with a colleague, a proprietor, a neighbor, or a child … what if that single interaction was analyzed? What if it mattered?

We’re not typically judged based solely on that kind of thin slice. But at times, we are.

Sometimes a single interaction is consequential.

This seems stressful. We can’t navigate every social interaction at peak performance.

But we can work to adjust our default. We can practice being thoughtful, courteous, curious, and poised.

And over time, random samples of how we interact — they’re likely to pass muster.

My son recently put together a lamp that was part of an engineering kit designed for children. After he was finished, I noticed a few extra parts in the box. I asked him about them.

“Yeah. Those were kind of tricky to install, so I skipped them.”

I laughed. It’s a totally natural thing to do: find a way to work around the tricky parts.

And this can be a good survival skill — a strategy for keeping forward motion.

But in the long run, it pays to figure out the tricky parts. In many endeavors, the tricky parts are what stand between good-enough and remarkable.