No amount of planning, preparation, modeling, or anticipation is sufficient to predict the future in full resolution.

To know with certainty what will work and what will not, what you’ll like and what you won’t — there’s no getting around it: you have to build it, ship it, workshop it, launch it, do it.

And as soon as you do, you’ll learn. You’ll adjust for the next time. You’ll notice what you hadn’t previously considered.

But all this doesn’t happen with better planning. And it doesn’t happen in your head. It happens after you conclude the prep-work and you engage with the work-work.

Occasionally, the ideas don’t seem to come — as though the well has run dry.

This can feel like a failure of creativity.

It’s not.

It’s a lack of patience. An inattentive sight. A muted listening. A false story you’ve told yourself.

The spirit is still there. The seeds are still germinating.

It’s just that the energy is focused on non-ideas and what doesn’t work. As though we’re at the riverside — thirsty — holding a net instead of a bucket.

In these moments, have patience. Like so many things in nature … creativity, inspiration, and motivation have their ebbs and flows.

Saying, “You’re wrong,” is a good way to get someone’s hackles raised.

A few alternatives:

“Help me to understand what you mean by that.”
“That hasn’t been my experience.”
Or simply, “Tell me more.”

It’s not that others can’t be wrong; they can be. But we move forward through invitation and conversation, not by calling fouls and silencing voices.

In a recent round of golf with my son, we both shot a five (bogey) on a particular hole. For him, it was a good feeling. For me, a bad one.

My son got out of trouble brilliantly. He handled a few errant shots and found the bottom of the cup in five strokes instead of what could have been six or seven.

On the other hand, I had a good opportunity at making three. Two poor putts, however, left me with a five.

If the golf jargon has lost you, here’s the simple explanation. We both ended up with the same less-than-perfect score. For one of us, it felt like a win. For the other, a loss.

This happens in life, too. Two people can be in similar situations, yet their feelings about it can be completely different. One person squanders a good opportunity and feels like a failure. The other overcomes setbacks and feels like a victor.

Much of what we experience — if not all of it — is the story of where we’ve come from, where we find ourselves, and where we think we’re headed.

When we begin a thing, we never know how long it will last. Or if it will catch on. Or if it will become tradition.

Mostly, these things emerge over time.  We begin, we experiment, we repeat, we continue. And at some point, we look back and say, “We’ve been doing this for so long. When did we even begin?”

(It’s why “first annual” events are strangely named; they promise a tradition that has yet to take hold.)

Be open to a gradual layering of history and tradition. But also, have the serenity to accept when things run their natural course and fade away.

If we’re not careful, our frustration about a small problem can become the origin of larger problems.

Said another way: our reaction to a problem can become a problem of its own.

Keep perspective.

I spent five minutes looking for an adapter to connect a cable to a port. Then I looked at the cable again. The problem wasn’t that I needed an adapter; the problem was that an adapter had already been attached to the cable.

I didn’t need to find an adapter — I needed to remove one.

Just another lesson: sometimes the solution isn’t from addition, it’s from subtraction.

There will be times when you put a lot of thought and care into a project. When you consider every detail. When you adopt the role of an expert curator.

And most of it will go unappreciated. Or unnoticed. Or seemingly ignored.

Don’t lose heart.

And don’t change your ways.

Do the thoughtful work. Even if it’s only fully appreciated by one person. Even if that one person is you.

And don’t take it personally either. Beauty and craft surround us — we often don’t see it ourselves.

So do the work for the sake of the work, not the recognition.

The world needs your contribution.

There are people who will tell you you cannot do it.
There are others who will tell you you can.

There are people who will marginalize your work.
There are others who will elevate and support the work you do.

There are people who will tell you all the things you’re doing wrong.
There are others who will tell you all the things you’re doing right.

Our radio dials are not perfect; we can’t completely tune out the naysayers.

But we can choose who gets our attention. And we can decide who to believe.

Spend some time in a locally-owned shop, and you’ll notice things.

A block propping open a door.
Wire carefully wrapped to hang a picture.
A zip tie used to tidy some cables.
A hand-written sign.

Because even carefully-designed spaces don’t account for everything, and we improvise. We find ways. We solve problems with the tools we have and the ideas we come up with.

Two takeaways. One, notice the home-grown solutions (they can be clever or sometimes amusingly and boldly inexpert). Two, be a problem-solver in your own space. Our surroundings — just like us — are works-in-progress.

Not too long ago, I slept in on a Sunday.

At the breakfast table, I happily reported, “Hey! I reached my sleep goal.”

My youngest son replied, “I didn’t reach mine — because I don’t have one.” He smiled wryly. (This is on-brand for his style of humor.)

But it reminded me of the power of goal-setting. When we set goals — even if they’re not particularly lofty — they become opportunities for us to celebrate what we’ve done.

Without goals, we’re just doing things. When we set goals, we turn activity into personal achievement.

Not as you envisioned in your own mind, but collaboratively with a team.

Not precisely, but together with a child.

Not as it was scripted, but in a new, unexpected way.

Sometimes it’s much less about the outcome and much more about how we get there.

The destination becomes what it is because of how we journey.

“I don’t have time” can be a reality. But it can also be a posture. And a trap.

And sometimes what makes it real is that we’ve trapped ourselves by the posture.

People will screw things up that you would have gotten right. (They’re not you.)

People will make choices that you wouldn’t have made. (They’re not you.)

People will think things that you wouldn’t think. (They’re not you.)

There are certainly areas where we find affiliation and alignment. But we are all different people. To feel surprise, disappointment, shock, or outrage when others do not do as we do is to forget: they’re not you.

In golf, there’s a central principle: play the ball as it lies.

This means that once the ball is in play, you don’t improve its position. You don’t pick up the ball and move it. You don’t play it from somewhere else.

There are exceptions, but generally, you have to accept the situation — even if it’s daunting — and make your stroke.

This could be a helpful attitude in life, too. We play it as it lies. We accept the current conditions as our starting point. We play it from where we are.

Surrendering to what is now, in service of where we’re going. It’s not giving up; it’s accepting what is, and positioning ourselves for the next move.

H/T Angus

Daina Oniunas-Pusić says this of her latest film: “It was a story that presented itself before I necessarily knew where it was coming from or why, and it felt very urgent for me to develop.”

Consider the feeling she’s describing.

I don’t yet know where this is coming from. I don’t know where this is going. And yet, it is calling for my participation. It beckons me.

Creative prompts present themselves in many ways. Sometimes the vision and path are clear. Other times, we navigate through a compelling mist.

How we travel (or hide) tells a lot about who we are and what we seek.

Where do you feel creative urgency? Where do you sense urgency in life?

What is your reply?

Legal freedom and actual freedom — they’re not the same.

Being free and knowing you’re free — they’re not the same.

Knowing you’re free and feeling like you’re free — they’re not the same either.

* * *

But regardless of how we experience it, fighting for freedom is always a worthy fight.

Don’t underestimate the power of a warm, genuine smile.

Even with brief encounters, a smile can create lasting ripples.

And with longer gatherings, a smile sets the stage for positive interaction.

Don’t wait for showtime. Don’t save it for a clever joke.

Smile from the start.

In the moment, it’s possible to convince ourselves that we need to start over. That we need to scrap the work-in-progress. That we need to start from scratch.

Perhaps that’s true.

But more often, we merely need a reset. A pause. A re-centering.

Beginning again is not the same as going back to zero. The reset lets us restart from right here.

The Resistance — the feeling of stuckness that holds us back from our creative work — it often presents itself as full-strength. That is, insurmountable.

But it’s a lie.

Sometimes the Resistance is strong. Other times, it’s remarkably fragile and merely pretending to be strong.

When we think we need a creative push, sometimes all we really need is the gentlest breeze … a whisper of effort. At times, that’s all it takes for forward momentum to take hold.

Just begin.