Just as I was closing my car door yesterday, a seed floated in and landed on the floor.

That evening, it traveled 8.5 miles to my home, and when I arrived, it once again rose with the breeze and continued on.

Like that little seed, we don’t always know where our ideas will go. We can’t predict their full effect. We don’t know how far they’ll travel.

But one thing is clear: if we don’t share them, our ideas will go nowhere. Without expression, our ideas will die.

So let’s put them into the world. Let’s see what happens when we give life to our ideas, and the wind carries them on.

“I don’t have enough time. I don’t have enough resources. I don’t have enough energy.”

Maybe you’re right.

But if the thing is important, do it nonetheless.

There are a few possibilities why you’re in the meeting room, alone.

One, you’re early. Good for you.

Two, you’re late. You missed it.

Three, you think it’s Thursday and it’s actually Tuesday.

If you fall into the second two categories, take a deep breath ... and then take a few more for good measure.

You’ve got this. You can manage a clock and a calendar. Now, take a moment to manage yourself.

When you’re waiting for someone to come home, you leave a light on.

Leaving the light on is a signal. I’m here. I’m expecting you. I look forward to your arrival.

We do this in our homes. How can we do this as we interact in the world?

How can we leave lights on ... showing that we see others, that we’re available, and that we’re eager to engage?

There’s a difference between moving one’s body, and dancing.

A difference between being in the right positions, and moving in a way that is beautiful and expressive.

* * *

Sitting at a conference table during a meeting, sitting across from someone on a date, standing in front of an audience ...

These might be the right positions, but we know there’s so much more to it.

* * *

Know where to be. Know the positions. But don’t forget: you’re not just moving; you’re dancing.

Consider an untested airbag. A parachute that hasn’t been inspected. A bridge made from steel of unknown strength.

There are times we feel like we’re under a microscope. Times we face significant challenges. Times our psychological strength is tested.

But in a way — in order for us to become fully ourselves — we have to be seen ... have to be challenged … have to be tested.

And instead of seeing these moments as “this is preventing me from being me,” ... perhaps we can see them as closer to what they are: “I’m becoming me.”

Are you the secret ingredient? The one that makes everything remarkably delicious?

Or are you the ingredient whose flavor is just a little off? The one that somehow spoils what might have otherwise been a fine recipe?

Many times, we are in a position to choose one or the other.

Choose to be delicious.

All around the world, we see beautiful architecture. Some of it is as wonderful as it is old. But just because something is historic doesn’t guarantee it’s of meritorious design … or even a quality example of a particular period or style.

Sometimes we get caught up in nostalgia — some kind of deference for the “original” — particularly when it comes to architecture. As though all of the architects, designers, and craftspeople from decades and centuries ago ... were somehow infallible.

While time and historical context may indeed add value, let’s not equate “historic” with excellence in design. Sometimes, it’s just not so.

The concept can be extended further, of course … to laws, policies, educational systems, and political agendas. With these examples, it’s pretty clear: poor design can occur at any point in history, and some of it ends up sticking around for a long time.

Part of your job is acquiring whatever is necessary to do your job.

Your job is not to have a sympathetic story about how your work has been stifled and sullied.

Your job is to figure out how to do your job, and then to do it.

It’s often said, “There’s no such thing as a stupid question.”

Maybe true. Maybe not.

But this is certain: in every situation, there are questions that don’t matter. Questions whose consideration does not help to advance the agenda. Questions that divert from the goal. Questions that distract. Questions that point to unpreparedness, rather than curiosity or useful investigation.

Don’t worry about asking stupid questions. Worry about asking relevant questions. Questions that matter.

You can’t read a book all at once; it’s read section by section, page by page. Not necessarily sequentially, but never all at once.

Similarly, you can’t live life all at once. Life is lived moment to moment, day to day, year after year.

The more time we spend impatiently anticipating those future chapters, the more likely we are to gloss over the chapter we’re presently experiencing.

Today is a beautiful part of your story. Let it unfold. Read it with care.

Put the friendly people up front. Holding the door. At the ticket counter. Answering the phone.

First contact — that initial moment of interaction — should be positive. Kind. Cheery.

There are plenty of other jobs for people who tend to frown, and people who don’t seem to like people.

First contact sets a tone. First contact can color an experience.

Put friendly where it belongs ... right up front.

We live in a busy time. We’re often over-scheduled and over-extended.

With conflicts and overlapping events, we’re frequently faced with a choice: “Do I attend a or b?” And plenty of times, the event that wins doesn’t win by a large margin.

So if you’re presenting to an audience … a group of people, synchronous, gathered in the same space, giving you attention … it’s a significant gift.

The assembled group has decided: being there with you is more important than being somewhere else.

Don’t waste that time; honor it. Honor it by preparing. By showing up with with intention. By your thoughtfulness in event planning and coordination. By not rambling in your remarks.

Let your audience walk away thinking, “My time was well-spent. I could have been somewhere else. I’m glad I wasn’t.”

Haircut: mohawk, shaved sides.

Build: tall, athletic.

Adornment: aviator glasses, tattoos, t-shirt, cargo shorts.

Expression: stern, determined.

* * *

As I drove through our Victorian town, I was at a stop sign — about to turn left — when I saw this man waiting at the curb. As I motioned for him to cross, that’s when it happened ...

He began walk, flashing a ringmaster’s grin, and offering a gracious bow of thanks, arms-extended, with a flair worthy of Amadeus.

We both laughed, and continued on our separate ways.

* * *

At every moment, we have the opportunity to make magic happen. To be an active participant in life. To make a simple interaction become one that is delightful and memorable.

Look for those moments. Create those moments. Be those moments.

Consider these, separately:

• A fork tapping a wine glass

• The words, “Let us pray.”

• The phrase, “May I have your attention please?”

• A request for volunteers

The first three situations prompt brief silence, and then someone speaks.

It’s that fourth one that presents the most awkward and prolonged silence.

You’re at a meeting. Heads will nod. All will agree: Yes. This is something we need to do. It’s important.

“And who will volunteer to do it?”

<silence>

Many times, we don’t need more head-nodding.

Many times, we need more people to raise a hand and to step forward.

When an average manager hears about a frustration that her staff experiences, she will take note, and perhaps look for a solution.

When a good manager hears about a frustration that her staff experiences, she will prioritize finding a solution.

And when any kind of manager — perhaps through covering a shift or filling-in — suddenly herself experiences the same frustration that her staff lives with ... that’s a problem that will most likely get immediate attention.

“Well, there’s always next time.”

Not always true. Yes, “next time” is a wonderful thought to keep failure and disappointment from crushing our souls. And sometimes we get second chances.

But let’s do our very best with this time. Let’s make this one count.

What’s keeping you from your dreams? What’s stopping you from living the life you want to live?

It might not be your circumstances. It might not be other people. It might not be external at all.

It could be your own self-doubt.

But just remember: this is your story, and you’re the hero.

Stop taking on the role of the antagonist. There are already enough obstacles along the journey. You don’t have to be one of them.

Without education and awareness, it’s nearly impossible to affect change. Even with those things, people ignore calls to action. Often, it takes personal experience ... some sort of conversion.

But education is a critical element.

We have Senator Gaylord Nelson and a team of young activists to thank for bringing about the first National Environment Teach-In in 1970.

To the great relief of those little boxes on our calendars, today isn’t called the National Environment Teach-In. It was the legendary copywriter, Julian Koenig, who coined its enduring name: Earth Day.

And yet we know … a name is just the beginning, and important work remains.

Even the smallest light can begin to dispel darkness.

A simple, small flame has the power to bring illumination to a cavernous space.

And that light ... it becomes a beacon for others.

As others come, the light can spread.

* * *

Candlelight vigils are a beautiful and remarkable scene.

It’s surprising how quickly the light spreads. One or two tapers light a few others, and within minutes, thousands are alight.

So it is — or so it can be — with our kindness, love, and generosity.

The critical moment, of course, is the moment we connect with others. The moment we pass it on.

Alone, we can bring light to a few, but with the engagement of others, we can bring light to entire worlds.