It’s like you’re at the school dance. Or the playground. Sometimes, kind souls will see you on the sidelines and invite you in. They’ll say, “Come. Come play. Come dance.” But many times, no one extends that invitation. They might not even see you at all (so it would seem).

If you so choose, you can stand on the side until it’s time to go home.

But we’re not meant to do that. We’re not created to watch idly. We’re made to dance and to play. Even if we have to invite ourselves in.

Don’t waste this moment. Don’t wait in anticipation of that kind invitation. Shake off your hesitation, and be alive. Enter the game. And if you want... you can be that kind soul. Look to the sidelines. There are always people waiting there.

Does your word carry weight? That is, when you say, “I'll take care of it,” how truthful is the statement?

Do you mean that the job will be done in a reasonable time-frame?

Or that after months of delay, you’ll finally get around to it?

Or that it will get done only after you’ve been reminded multiple times?

If it’s anything but the first scenario, don’t be surprised when people aren’t eager to hear you say, “I’ll take care of it.”

There’s a tipping point where things can start to go wrong. One too many errors, one too many occupants, one too many violations, one too many drinks...

It’s a mistake, however, to worry about “one too many” when considering acts of kindness, generosity, mercy, and forgiveness. Don’t hold back.

Standing on a soap box might help you to be heard in a crowd. But if your soap box gets to be too tall — we’re being literal with the metaphor here — you’ll lose touch with the people you seek to reach. They won’t be able to hear you, and you won’t be able to hear them. Eventually, people will forget you’re way up there on that soap box, and they’ll just walk away.

When you can’t hear the encouragement…

When you can’t see the supporters…

When you think they’ve forgotten about you…

It could be that you’re running a marathon. That your journey takes you along paths where there’s no place for spectators.

And that soon — any moment now — you’ll turn another corner and see them. You’ll hear the cheering. You’ll feel their love for you, and you’ll realize that they’ve been rooting for you the whole time... even from afar.

Pushing at the right time matters.

It matters in childbirth.

It matters in negotiation.

It matters in sport.

It matters in creativity.

It’s not about pushing your hardest at every moment. It’s about pushing hard at the right moment.

The concept of “Wait for it...

...and, NOW.”

The timing matters.

There’s nothing quite like a bright, sunny day following a stretch of bleak midwinter. Sometimes those gray skies last so long that we forget how the sun feels on our face.

In a broader sense, we need occasional reminders that night is a season, and that joy comes in the morning. It’s easy to get wrapped up in the idea that things will never change (whether they’re good or bad)... until, of course, they do change.

The trick is in navigating that constant change. Not avoiding it, but navigating it. Leaning forward, seeking the bright spots, and dancing throughout the journey.

Along Pennsylvania Route 26 near Pleasant Gap.

If I share my thoughts, I could be rejected. If I publish my work, it could be ignored. If I say something, I might look stupid.

All true.

But the alternative is worse.

If I don’t share my thoughts... If I don’t publish my work... If I don’t say something...

Put the fear aside. Find a corner, and tuck it away. Share. Publish. Speak.

Forget about being rejected. Do the rejection yourself and reject the fear.

As six of us walked to dinner in the city, my friend announced, “Just so you know, I’m not leading us; I’m just in front.”

It’s a good reminder. Sometimes we assume that the person in the front knows where he’s going. That’s not always true.

It’s also good practice, more generally, to be candid about our roles... especially if people are following us and we don’t know the way.

Sometimes, being exceptional doesn’t require being extraordinary. Sometimes, it just calls for a little extra.

A little extra effort. A little extra time. A little extra thought. A little extra intention.

Don’t discount the possibility for “a little extra” to become quite remarkable. It’s often the case.

Plenty of things give us temporary happiness. A little bit of joy. And it’s tempting to think that if we can just line those things up, back to back, we can string together a happy existence. If we can just have enough of those things that bring moments of delight, we’ll enjoy happiness that lasts.

Thing is, a long series of temporal joys is not the same as lasting happiness, and our hearts know it.

A colleague of mine charged his phone all night. Ten hours. In the morning, the battery was still dead. Turns out, one end of the cable was plugged into his phone, and the other end was plugged into nothing.

We can be very careful to connect ourselves to a channel or a network, but establishing that connection doesn’t mean we’re being fed. We need to pay attention to what’s flowing through those pipelines... if anything at all.

The clever doctor, when she needs a four-year-old to open his mouth, or to take deep breaths, also asks that he...

• kick his right foot.

• wiggle his rear end.

• raise his pointer fingers alternately.

• choose a favorite ear.

She knows that the best way to get what she needs is to blend it with what the child wants, which is to have fun and to be a little silly.

You don’t get to be that kind of professional by punching the clock. You get to be that kind of professional by showing up with your whole self. Your joyful self. The best version of yourself.

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There’s this thing about buying a new car (or researching one). You start to notice that kind of vehicle more often. Your purchase of the car didn’t produce more of them on the roadway; you just start to notice them wherever they are.

I think it’s the same with opportunities. They’re always available. It’s just that when you’re looking for them, you see them. When you’re focused on opportunities, they seem to be all around you.

We look for misspelled words. Misused words (and malapropisms). Grammatical errors.

But we can make errors in the spaces, too. Five spaces between sentences can be nearly as ugly as a misspelling.

The bigger picture? Just as much as we can err in what we say, we can err in the times we’re silent.

At the end of the carousel in the Chicago O’Hare baggage claim, a man swiftly turns each piece of luggage coming off of the conveyor belt. He’s careful to arrange each piece so that a handle faces outward, making it easy for passengers to lift their bags off the moving apparatus.

One airport employee performing a simple task, making an entire operation work smoothly, and taking a little burden off hundreds of travelers. Little by little.

A screw can only withstand so much torque before it shears or the threads are stripped.

A certain amount of torque is optimal.

Tighter, therefore, is not always better. More is not always best.

The hard part is knowing when to stop. The hard part is having the discipline to stop turning before you break something.

There’s a metaphor here, and I’m sure you can think of an area of your life where it applies.

Before the show begins, the house lights go down and the audience instinctively quiets itself.

There’s a sense of anticipation. Of expectation.

Dimming the lights is a signal: something great is about to happen.

In your own projects, presentations, and events — public and private — what do you do to create that feeling?

Music, lighting, furniture placement, clothing, gestures... any one of these can be used, with intention, to create that light-dimming feeling of, “something special is about to occur.”

“I’ve upgraded your room.” (The room is exactly what I reserved.)

“Would you care for some coffee? Here’s a voucher for a free cup.” (The coffee shop is currently closed.)

* * *

A hotel check-in that would normally be unremarkable now tempts one to be disappointed.

When you’ve promised to do a special thing, make sure you’re not actually doing the regular thing.

Each of us is a conduit for creativity, and work intends to flow through us.

But if we don’t tend to that current... if we don’t nurture its outlet with respect... then an internal burden builds.

Like increasing, unreleased pressure in a pipe, a burst is inevitable… and that brings an unfortunate mess to what could have be a beautiful fountain.