We like to anticipate big things. Holidays. Graduations. Anniversaries. Astronomical events.
But we can anticipate small things, too. The little joys.
The first sip of coffee. Lunch with a friend. An afternoon stroll. Evening meditation. A refreshing shower.
Joyful anticipation: it can happen often, if we seek it and delight in it.
Temporary doesn't always feel temporary. Sometimes, temporary feels permanent.
Pain. Suffering. Sorrow. In those experiences, we might need to consciously remind ourselves: this is temporary. Be patient. It will pass.
But the good things can be temporary too. Joy. Contentment. Peace. They can slip away unexpectedly. When you are wise enough to recognize them, embrace them. Cherish them. Feel them. Those beautiful moments don’t last forever.
Seeds represent possibility. Potential growth.
And with proper storage, seeds can last many years. That sense of possibility can be carefully wrapped up and kept in safety.
To plant, however — to seek germination — risks death as much as it promises new life.
So we have a choice: protect the seeds, or grow them... risking failure.
* * *
Unlike seeds, our hopes, dreams, ambitions, and inspirations cannot be kept indefinitely at minus 18°C.
If we don’t act on them, they’ll slowly, quietly expire. They’re not safe on the shelf. If we believe in them — if we truly believe in them — we must take the risk. We have to try. To plant. To grow. Yes, to risk failure... but also to risk success beyond what we can imagine.
When you’re always concerned about the next thing on the schedule, or the thing that’s happening somewhere else, then you’re missing out on what’s here, right now.
The irony is that when you actually are somewhere else, or when you’ve arrived at that next thing on the schedule, you’re probably not paying attention there either — because, you know, there’s always that next thing on the schedule, or something happening somewhere else.
We don’t always get praise for doing what we’re supposed to do. And that’s OK.
Because to laud adequacy is to defund the spirit of innovation.
Celebrating responsibility is positive reinforcement for small children. But we’re not small children, and we’re not bare-minimum people.
We’re let’s-do-better people. We’re above-and-beyond people.
We don’t need acknowledgement for just showing up. We show up because we’re supposed to show up. For us, it’s what we do after we show up that matters.
Just like the best products, systems, and services, the best relationships are those that have been tested, and have endured.
Relationships inevitably have some tension. And sometimes, it’s more serious.
For casual friendships, a single conflict might very well be a spoiler.
But strong relationships — enduring commitments — they see ups and downs. They share joy, and they weather conflict.
And with years of intentional connection and of vulnerable mending, two people sometimes find themselves joined through a beautiful, unbreakable bond. Tested, and lasting.
Collect the data.
Analyze the data.
Take appropriate action.
If you’re only doing the first two things, you’re missing the most important part.
Data tell a story. They offer clues. They can let you know whether you’re moving toward your goals.
But if you’re not going to do something based on what you learn from them, why are you collecting the data in the first place?
I overheard an exchange at a local small business. It went like this:
Will those be back in stock next week?
Maybe.
Really? Oh! That's wonderful. Can you please call me when they arrive?
I can…
It’s the way the shop owner said “I can” that was telling. The word “can” was up-and-down sing-song in a way that conveyed, “I can, but I certainly don’t want to do that.”
The customer seemed surprised by the tone.
I know that brick and mortar shops face all kinds of challenges, particularly when so many goods are available online with next-day shipping.
But interacting with customers face-to-face is an opportunity where shop owners have the advantage.
Replace the reluctant “I can” with a cheery “I’d be happy to do that” and you win the valuable loyalty of a customer.
If someone has left her home and traveled to your store with a willingness to buy your wares, show appreciation and serve her well.
Try to pursue work worthy of sacrifice. Not your own (that will happen naturally) but the sacrifices of others. That is, build something into your life so generous, so meaningful, so important, that other people are willing to make sacrifices in order to give you the opportunity to do your work.
We want to be relevant. There are a couple of ways we can deal with this desire.
We can identify a group to whom we’d like to be relevant, and bend to their will. Aim for that target. Try to meet their needs. Figure out what they like, and then do that as best we can.
We can start by looking inward. We can work really hard to be our best selves. We can give fuel to our passions. And then we can make ourselves visible. We can find connections, one by one. Real connections to people who find value in what we do.
The first method requires some research. It will involve flexibility. If the group shifts, you need to shift. They write the script, and you are the actor.
The second method requires patience. It requires discipline and emotional labor. But it gives you the freedom to dig deep. You are the writer, the actor, and the producer. Your measure is not how well you match what the group wants, but how well you can be the best version of yourself.
So, we can become relevant either way. It just depends on where we start looking. Outward, or inward.
Don’t forget that everything online is filtered. Social media, in particular. Content. Photos. Everything. What you see is what people want you to see.
So when you’re comparing your actual life to the filtered view of everyone else’s life... it’s never a fair comparison.
It’s better to stop comparing.
Sometimes, in an effort to help craft our identity, we’ll share some personal information with casual acquaintances. We’ll mention some academic coursework. Or a complex family situation. Or a hobby. Or a medical condition.
The problem occurs when we do this too often. When we lead with the same story each time. When we tell before we’re asked.
If we’re not careful, instead of being the person who is ______, we’ll be remembered as the person who always tells us he is ______.
It’s great to know who you are, and it’s important to have a story. But you don’t have to lead with that story every time we see you.
We are part of the orchestra, and we get to play some of the instruments. Maybe not all of the instruments, but some of them.
In some situations, we’ll be the concertmaster. In others, we’ll be third viola. We might have a solo, or we might have thirty measures of rest.
Sometimes we’ll be the salient call of the trumpet. Other times, we’ll be the deep warmth of the double-bass.
The point is, there are times when we contribute quite prominently, and there are times we contribute in a supporting roll.
But we’re always contributing, because we’re part of the orchestra.
The flower gets the attention, not the roots.
People are often more interested in the beautiful results than the hard work that’s gone into what you’ve done.
Very few will appreciate the root structure as much as you do.
Bloom anyway.
If you’ve ever watched a four-year-old play independently, you know it can be fascinating.
These blocks go here. This figure needs to do this thing. I’ll talk to these animals. Where’s my bag? I need a very specific book; where did it go?
Children of this age have a beautiful way of setting very short-term goals (e.g. my doll is in immediate need of a bed made from blankets) and then operating like curious little scientists.
And while preschool-age ambition in make-believe can create challenges, it has a way of liberating play and experimentation. There’s little fear of critical review. There’s not really a little kid-version of cost justification. There aren’t metrics. It’s just play… where freedom and confidence work together.
As adults, we can still play… creating situations where we can act freely and confidently. And truly great work can come of it.
We have to make an assessment when we see a vacant lane.
Is it vacant because it’s a poor choice?
Or is it vacant because all the newcomers get into the same lanes with everyone else?
Of course, I’m not just talking about the market, the museum, or the roadway.
It’s bigger than that. It’s culture. It’s science. It’s technology.
Those who dance on the edges (as Seth likes to say)... they don’t get into long lines.
They forge new paths, and the lines form behind them.
The sun doesn’t ask permission to shine. It doesn’t restrain itself for fear of rejection. It gives generously, and spreads warmth to those who seek its radiance.
Don’t wait for an invitation to shine. Just do it, and be marvelous in what you do.
Would you change what you’re currently doing — this very moment — if your mentor was observing you?
The best part about this mental exercise is that your mentor can be imagined. It can be the mentor you’ve always wanted. A great mind, living or dead. A leader that you know only through what you’ve read. Even a fictional character.
So. Now that you know your mentor is watching... what are you going to do?
Digital messaging has changed the way we communicate. But perhaps texts can teach us something about how we speak to each other. How we listen and respond.
We need to take turns for communication to work well.
When someone is speaking, it’s tempting to begin formulating a response before the speaker is finished. And sometimes, we stop listening while we carefully craft our own words.
While the speaker is relaying A, B, C, D... we start to generate a response. Then, when we know our position... H, I, J, K.
And now we’ve missed three letters.
Just like the speaker at the podium asks us to hold our applause until the last name has been read, there are times when it’s best for us to let the speaker finish relaying her thoughts before we decide how we’d like to respond.
Just like a text message. When you see that someone is replying, hang on a second: something’s incoming.
The concept of “as soon as possible” is problematic. When someone asks me to, “take care of it ASAP” and I clarify, “drop everything and handle it right now?” I’m usually met with the response, “Well... no. Just sometime today. Actually, tomorrow would be fine.”
Sometimes we use phrases that imply immediacy when we really mean, “coordinated with other priorities.”
Setting a clear timeline is more useful. If you need something done by close-of-business, just say so.
And if you need something done immediately, you can say, “now.”
Maybe you like the swagger of saying A-SAP. If that’s the case, maybe “STAT” is the new, appropriate word for you (it’s from statim, meaning “immediately”).
But if you’re not running an emergency room, be careful not to overuse it.
