I used a newly renovated bathroom yesterday. It was clean and the finishes were beautiful … but a few things were not quite right.

The toilet seat was loose. The sink was not affixed to its base. The faucet was low, making it awkward to wash hands. The towel bar was high and nearly out of reach.

While the design was picture-perfect, the functionality was lacking.

This seems like an example of someone doing the hard work of building something, but not doing the easy work of using it — checking to see that it all works properly. Leaving the role of designer and adopting the role of user.

Design. Build. Test. Adjust if necessary.

If we’re not testing, we’re doing a disservice to those we seek to serve.

The road to mediocrity is paved with critical statements like, “I could do that.”

This idea that one sees something someone else is doing, and whispers to a friend, “Yeah. I could do that.”

As if speaking the dismissive phrase is akin to having actually done the thing.

As if there’s merit in just having the ability to do something. Or saying you do.

No. It’s the doing that deserves the credit.

Those who pooh-pooh the doers ... well, they’re least likely to create much value.

Spend a day in any organization, and you’ll be able to see who the leaders are.

You won’t identify them through an org chart, or where they sit, or what they wear.

You’ll know them by how they interact with others. How they respond to challenges. How they make things better.

Leadership isn’t determined by a label. Leadership is action. It’s poise and posture ... not position.

Some of the books on my bookshelves ... I haven’t read. I intend to read them, but I haven’t gotten to them yet. Some of them have even been on the shelf, unread, for years.

I’ve always felt a tinge of regret about this. As though these books represent small failures. Little goals I never achieved. But a friend helped me to re-frame this.

Unread books serve as a reminder of the many things we do not know. A world of knowledge we have not yet accessed.

A plentiful, personal library — even one filled with unfamiliar texts — is the mark of someone with a healthy, intellectual curiosity. A lifelong learner.

Make time for the unread works, as time goes by. But when you discover pristine books with unblemished spines, don’t feel the sting of self-reproach; see those books through the lens of possibility … and a reminder of your endless passion for learning and growing.

You can learn a lot about people by listening to how they talk about other people.

Much more than, say, the car they drive, or where they live, or what they wear, or what they look like.

Listen to how they speak about other human beings.

You can’t draw a complete picture in this way, but you can come to know something about their hearts.

The flip side of this, of course, is knowing that other people can draw conclusions about you too, based on how you talk about others.

Lighting a fire under someone is different than igniting a fire within someone. If you light a fire under them, they will take action while the fire is lit. But as soon as the flame is gone, the action likely ceases.

Activate the spark within them — help them to access their own passion — and they carry the flame onward ... growing it and making their mark in the world.

Is the story you tell yourself one of sufficiency or of poverty?

Of abundance or of lack?

Of possibility or of obstacle?

In order for us to move forward, we must begin with the attitude of, “I have what I need, right now.”

Mindset. Ambition. Resources. Motivation.

We overcome inertia by recognizing sufficiency, believing in ourselves, and then taking the first step.

Did you forget about the dream you had for yourself?

Did you forget that you are powerful and well-able?

Did you forget the passion you have for being your best self?

Did you forget that you are remarkable?

Pause.

Take a deep breath.

Remember.

That feeling of empowerment ... of possibility ... grasp it once again.

Now pick your head up, set your shoulders, and go.

When a group needs to make a decision, “laying out all the options” does not accomplish the task.

Discussing possibilities, evaluating risks, listing benefits, itemizing contingencies and dependencies ... it can all feel like decision-making.

But until a decision is actually made, we haven’t finished the job.

“What did we decide here?” If we can’t answer that question, there’s still work to do.

When we’re preparing for a trip, we’re careful to pack what will be needed. We take inventory and we evaluate various scenarios. Will I need this? Should I pack that?

Bringing this same kind of thinking to the workday is useful, too, and this goes beyond the material things like a bagged lunch or a notebook.

What kind of attitude should I pack? What kind of mindset? Which persona? Which posture?

Careful packing of these things can be just as important as an i.d. badge or a briefcase.

The things that bring joy to others are not necessarily the things that will bring joy to you.

Said another way, it’s important to listen to your own heart. Mirroring the life of someone who appears contented is a fool’s errand. This essay is your own, and plagiarism will do you no good.

Toward the end of a long hike, my destination was a well-worn dirt road. As I looked down the bank of dry dirt and loose stones leading to that road, I had two choices. I could take small, careful steps ... resisting the hill’s invitation for my feet to slip out from under me. Or, I could commit to the movement. Lean forward and jog down the slope. Embrace the spirit of the decline and move sure-footed until I reached the gentle swale and the flat road.

I chose the second option and was soon standing on the road having traversed the rocky terrain safely. My hiking companion chose the other way ... his feet nearly slipping with every step. Each movement risking collapse.

The point here is not about how to navigate a hill. Rather, that there are times when “slow and steady” is not the safest route. That sometimes, running confidently is the less risky option. That leaping might seem scary at first, but it might be just what’s called for.

As I was getting into my car, a neighbor who was driving by slowed to a stop and rolled down his window.

“Hey. I think you have a tail light out. I saw it when I passed yesterday. Wanted to make sure you knew.”

I didn’t know, and I was quite glad to learn of it.

* * *

How do we build community? How do we cultivate a thoughtful, caring society?

It starts with simple acts of kindness. Seeing where we can help ... and then helping.

Sometimes it just means speaking up and having a friendly conversation with a neighbor.

Finding quiet isn’t about being in a place where there’s not a lot of noise.

Quiet is a mindset. Finding it takes intention. It might even take practice.

But whether we’re in a serene setting, or amidst chaos ... it’s possible for us to breathe deeply, to calm the noise in our head, and to seek quiet. No matter what we’re facing.

Even for just a moment.

Even right now.

“Did that answer your question?”

We don’t ask this often enough.

And in politics, it’s never asked.

Imagine the conversations that might happen — the meaningful communication that could occur — if we took care to verify that communication is actually happening.

You may be a big fish in a little pond, but the internet has softened the boundaries of the ponds we occupy.

Does this mean we need to compare ourselves to all the other fish in the world? No.

But it does challenge us to know what’s going on elsewhere. To lift our head up once in a while to see what others are doing. To learn from the best in our fields of interest. To engage with other thought leaders.

If we don’t — if all we ever see is what’s in our little pond — we’re cheating ourselves out of our greatest potential.

There comes a time when, “Why isn’t anyone doing anything about this?” must transition to, “Why am I not doing anything about this?”

And once we ourselves take action, the conversation can turn to, “What are we doing?” and, “What else should we be doing?”

When we take these steps, we move beyond a victim mindset and into a place of empowerment and possibility.

Sometimes we like to flip to the end of the book to see what happens.

Or we fast forward to the end of a show. Maybe we skip ahead in a series.

All perfectly fine to do.

But let’s not make the mistake of carrying that into our lives ... of trying to rush to the next chapter.

The chapter you’re in right now? It’s important. Give it its due.

What’s your excuse? We all have them.

• It’s too hard.

• I don’t have the money.

• I don’t have the time.

• I don’t have the expertise.

• There’s a technical problem.

• The logistics are too complicated.

• They won’t let me.

• It’s too risky.

• …

Whatever the excuse is, ask yourself, “Is this really true? And if so, is there no way around it?”

The biggest challenge is not the roadblock. The biggest challenge is being honest with ourselves about what’s truly holding us back.

We spend a lot of time checking email, voicemail, social media, mailboxes, and all sorts of other things.

We don’t spend nearly as much time checking ourselves.

Sure, we look in the mirror. But how often do we do a self check-in?

How do I feel, right now? What is my body telling me? What is my mind telling me? What are my emotions telling me?

If we’re not doing this regularly, who knows ... we might have quite a few unread messages.