A warm, sunny day can begin as a cold, wet trial.
So when we look at the forecast, we can’t just look at the highlights — we have to survey the entire day.
So it is with projects and endeavors. There will be highs and lows. We need to expect both. We need to prepare for both. And really, we ought to appreciate both for what they are.
“Contact us if you’re serious.”
“Contact us if you’re curious.”
Both are relevant stipulations, but the latter brings more people to the table.
Without openness to the curious outsider, there’s little hope in finding the serious insider.
We begin with curiosity.
“… except when you’re hungry and there aren’t other options.”
Take it as a metaphor.
When our needs increase and our options decrease, we quickly become less picky.
What we’re willing to do reflects the balance (or imbalance) of our needs and our options.
When my children were in pre-school, their teacher (wisely) used a clever way to communicate time: sleeps.
When is our special guest visiting? Two sleeps from now.
When is the reading buddy activity? Three sleeps from today.
When is the field trip? Six sleeps away.
We often measure time in days, but our body naturally understands time by the number of nights we sleep between now and what we’re anticipating.
Indeed, the concept of “sleeps” is much more approachable than having to wait days.
Have compassion. Be sympathetic. Give the benefit of the doubt.
You’re not a schmuck for practicing these things. You’re not getting duped. You’re being a good human, and we need more good humans.
Three out of four is not too bad. Nine out of ten? Even better.
Unless you’re counting wheels on a car or sections of a bridge.
There are many scenarios where partials are good enough. Plenty others, however, where we don’t celebrate anything short of one hundred percent.
A healthy mind knows the difference between the two.
Far better to lose the right way than to win the wrong way.
In the long run, the pattern of how we play matters more than the individual outcomes.
I stood under an umbrella watching a cold, wet, fall baseball game. I overheard the head coach say sincerely, “No place I’d rather be.”
It reminded me of a cartoon I once saw. Two men were fishing from a boat. Two other men were on a nearby golf course. All four were being pummeled by rain. The fishermen looking the golfers, the golfers looking at the fishermen … each pair thinking, “Idiots.”
We gladly do what we love, even when the circumstances are less than perfect.
Wishing you ideal conditions — and knowing you’ll be at it either way.
Often, what’s loved most isn’t what’s pristine and untouched. What’s loved most is evidenced by its patina and wear.
Our deepest love isn’t expressed with shelves and glass vitrines.
Like a tattered stuffed animal, the worn edges of a book, or the threshold of a beloved home … well-worn is often well-loved.
Look for the signs.
One beautiful thing about creativity is that often, burning a small bit of fuel doesn’t deplete the tank. Rather, it refills the reservoir.
There’s little to lose and much to gain. We just need to begin, even if we begin small.
“I’m not perfect. I make plenty of mistakes.” This is an easy phrase to say. I believe it. I know it. It comes with no feelings of guilt or shame.
However … hearing the phrase, “You made a mistake,” isn’t quite as comfortable. Even worse when there are consequences.
A general acceptance of imperfection is not too difficult. An acceptance of specific imperfections is more of a challenge.
Knowing that we err is easy; knowing the error is less so.
In the 1800s, German electrical engineer Werner Siemens created a device that turned mechanical power into electric current. He called the invention a dynamoelektrischemaschine, or “dynamo-electric machine”.
The word dynamo is well past its heyday (circa 1891) but it’s still occasionally used. For example, it describes a particular type of bicycle hub that can power a light. Or a person with a certain kind of energy.
* * *
Energy conversion is a useful skill we can develop. It’s that moment between feeling inspired and taking action. The moment between having a vision and bringing that vision to life. Between feeling creative and being creative.
Harness the opportunity. Be the dynamo.
What’s important?
What’s urgent?
What’s interesting?
We spend our lives making choices in response to these questions.
And too often regretting when we’ve mistaken one for another.
Many a thing will masquerade as all three. But few things are so.
You don’t discard a radio because it’s emitting static; you tune it.
People can be the same way. It’s not that they’re broken. It’s just that they’re tuned to a poor station — or not tuned to anything at all.
In our better moments, we can help each other to find the signal.
“I stayed at work late.”
“I put a lot of effort into this.”
“I skipped lunch.”
“I came in on my day off.”
There are a lot of things people say when they really mean something else. Most workplaces don’t have a culture of laid-bare honesty. So what we hear can often be code for something deeper. Something like:
“I don’t feel appreciated.”
“I feel like I’m working harder than others.”
“I’m someone who needs acknowledgement.”
“I don’t feel seen.”
Look for the clues. Consider, “Why is this person saying this? Is there a need that’s not being met?”
You might have a conversation about it. Maybe. But even if you don’t, you can make a habit of witnessing with empathy.
Strategy, aim, execution. You can’t just have one or two; you need all three.
A good direction without action. A well-played move toward the wrong target. A solid plan, poorly carried out. And so on …
Strategy, aim, execution. For things to work, we need a healthy balance of the lot.
A car pulled out in front of me. The move was mildly reckless. As it passed, I noticed a large dent on the side of the vehicle.
Some observations:
Upon seeing the dent, I created a story that fit what I saw. “This is an unsafe driver who is likely to cause accidents. This dent is evidence.”
What I witnessed may or may not be typical of this driver. There’s no way for me to know. Nonetheless, I told myself the story that it was on-brand.
A mile down the road, I was in a parking lot at the same lunch spot as this vehicle — quite happy I hadn’t created a scene earlier.
The whole thing reminded me to not always believe the stories I invent about people (based on ten-second interactions). And also, there are plenty of times when not escalating a situation is a prudent choice.
Phone trees, chat bots, recorded options — they’re imperfect.
It can be intensely frustrating. It can make you want to shout.
But when you’re yelling at a robot, who does it hurt?
Hint: it’s not the robot.
Someone may quote you — but not necessarily what you’d want them to quote.
If you’re asked for a statement, you might carefully curate what you’d like to say.
But most often, we’re not asked for statements; they’re just captured as we speak. Sometimes out of context. Often not of our choosing. That is, what someone quotes of you might not be something you’d quote yourself as saying.
The point is not to fight with this reality. Rather, to recognize it and accept it. And to notice it happening in the world.
Noise surrounds us — internal and external. Some of it gets highlighted. Some of it gets ignored. Generally, whether a thing gets a lot of attention is out of our control.
What we can control is how we think about it and how we respond.
How do we handle mistakes other than to circle, annotate, and highlight with a bright, red pen?
The other way is with the eraser: the correction that makes the error disappear.
We can use a red pen publicly. Or we an use an eraser privately; not necessarily secretly, but not on the grandstand either. We can do it collaboratively, one to one.
If you’ve been on the receiving end of this, then you know the feeling of great relief when you don’t hear, “You’ll pay for this,” and instead hear, “Let’s make this right, like it never happened.”
There’s a time and place for certain kinds of accountability. But there’s also a place for mercy, forgiveness, and clearing the slate.
