The person with whom I had an appointment was ten minutes late.

She began, shaking her head, “I’m so sorry. There was a ... “ and then she stopped herself.

She looked at me and smiled. “I’m not going to give excuses. But sorry we’re getting started late.”

And that was that. No excuses. No story. Just on to the work at hand.

I was quite happy. Not that I wouldn’t have listened or been sympathetic. But offering the excuse wasn’t necessary, and it would have put us further behind schedule.

Sometimes, we don’t need an excuse. We just need an apology, or a “thanks for being so patient” and then we can move on to business.

At the career fair, Amber was the only recruiter from her company. For five hours, the line of candidates remained steady, with new arrivals every few minutes.

She could have conducted interviews all day without a single break.

Instead, she chose a better option. Mid-day with a kind smile, she let those in line know that she would need to step away for a quick lunch.

The candidates scattered.

When Amber returned, so did the line.

* * *

If we’re not careful, systems will work us to exhaustion. If we choose to work without ceasing — to the point of our own mental and physical exhaustion — we can. The system will allow it.

But we can also choose to take care of ourselves. To step away when we need to step away.

And in most cases, our work will be waiting for us when we return to our posts, and we can begin again … refreshed and ready.

Yesterday, I heard someone say, “I’m not good with money.”

When we say things like this, we imply a state of permanence. A condition that cannot be changed. Something innate.

What if instead, this person had said, “I haven’t yet learned how to manage money.”

There’s a change. A shift. A posture of growth. An attitude of, “I can improve if I choose to improve.”

When we substitute “I’m not” with “I haven’t yet” we acknowledge our ability to grow, and we nurture the faith we have in ourselves.

We need that nurturing — even if we’re doing it ourselves.

Bigger is not always better. Better is better.

Who’s it for? What’s it for?

Let these questions guide us in our endeavor to build better things, better experiences, and a better world.

If you seek advice from an expert, it’s best to understand the full context of the advice. Some parts may be contingent upon others. For instance:

• Close account A, and open account B.

• Paint the room white, and buy a gray couch.

• Sing it this way, and incorporate guitar.

• Stop eating this, and start eating that.

In each of these scenarios, we can imagine how taking only half of the advice might not work to achieve the intended results.

Ask the expert, “If I only do this one part and ignore the other, what might happen?” Given that candor, don’t be surprised if the advice changes.

Saying, “I’m responsible,” takes some bravery. Owning an outcome — particularly one that’s negative — is not an easy path.

It’s much easier to say, “He chose this,” and “She made that decision,” and “This was their idea.”

But when we assign blame in this way, we will always be victims of the choices that others make.

Saying, “I’m responsible,” not only empowers us ... it positions us to continue making choices, and it enrolls us in the practice of choosing a better future.

Some people like to work long hours as a badge of honor. They sometimes tell others about those long days, too.

But if you’re taking ten hours to do six hours of work ... that badge of honor isn’t very shiny.

If you’re keeping track of something, keep track of the change you’re able to make. Track your impact ... it matters much more than the hours.

Why are we so often concerned with whether our puns are intended?

Maybe we intend to make a pun. Maybe not.

But if we’re not joking around, let’s guide others toward being concerned with the real intention behind our words.

That intention is what’s most important.

Splinter removal doesn’t occur without some discomfort. Maybe even a little pain.

But the healing doesn’t begin until the splinter is removed.

We can’t just ignore the splinter ... hoping it goes away on its own. It must be addressed ... unpleasantness notwithstanding.

As usual, there’s a metaphor here, and it challenges us to use some metaphorical tweezers.

There are times when we’re not in a position of power, and we’re treated unfairly.

So what do we do when the roles are reversed? Do we change the dynamic when we have control? Do we act fairly? Justly?

Or do we “show them what it’s like” ... Do we give the other side a taste of unfairness?

Returning injustice with reciprocal injustice is a downward spiral.

Children often err on the side of eye-for-an-eye conflict resolution.

But we’re not children anymore, and we can model a better way.

You might experience frustration if you give a gift ... and you want to have control over how the recipient uses your gift.

Maybe it’s money. Maybe it’s an article of clothing. Maybe it’s a tool. Maybe it’s advice.

“Here. This is for you,” is an act of generosity.

“Here. This is for you. Now do what I say,” is an attempt to gain control or influence.

We should be careful to know the difference between the two.

Maybe you’ve made a promise about what you’re going to do tomorrow.

That’s great. Keep your promise.

Now, make a promise about what you’re going to do today.

Keep that promise, too.

At a potluck, there will be times when everything comes together with balance. Just the right quantities. Just the right variety.

And then there will be times when you have six containers of the same side dish.

It’s not that you can’t feed a group entirely with potato salad, but it’s not ideal.

* * *

Meetings can be a little like a potluck.

See what’s in the room with you at the next meeting you attend. What have others brought? Focus? Cooperation? Empathy? Sarcasm? Impatience?

And you? What have you brought to place on the table? What have you decided to share?

We might not be able to control the menu, but we can control what we bring to contribute.

Sometimes big problems seem insurmountable. We convince ourselves that only the largest and most coordinated efforts will make any difference.

But small actions — done by many — can also effect change.

More specifically: small, meaningful actions can make change happen.

And if we’re trying to make things better, then bringing intention and meaning to our actions, no matter how small, is a move in the right direction.

People will say, “How does she do that?”

They will rarely say, “How did she commit to learning that?”

Or, “How hard must she have worked in order gain that ability?”

It’s a lot easier to think people’s skills are born inexplicably as though by magic ... than to consider the intense drive, determination, and grit that are most often responsible.

Connection doesn’t require unusual circumstances and serendipity. Often, it happens with a simple question.

How did you come to live here? What do you do for work? What sort of things interest you?

The questions themselves aren’t as important as the message they send: I’m interested in knowing about you.

And a question can turn into a conversation ... which might even turn into a friendship.

But it doesn’t start with us talking about ourselves. It starts with us being genuinely curious about someone else.

There will be turns in the road.

There will be obstacles.

There’s no scenario where the road is free, clear, and infinitely straight.

So the thing to do … is to learn how to steer.

It’s not about seeking utopia.

It’s about learning how to navigate reality.

Remaining grateful is challenging. The thing is, we get used to things being how they are. When we experience prolonged good, we tend to forget that things are indeed good.

It’s when sickness or death or hardship are upon us ... that’s when we become keenly aware that moments or days or weeks ago ... things were better, or in better balance.

For me, it’s a sore throat that brings this into focus today. Two days ago, I had no consciousness of my throat. Two days ago, I was in full health, without pausing to be grateful for it.

Small price to pay ... a sore throat. It’s a little reminder to be grateful for the many good things in life. Family. Friends. Health. Safety.

To not wait until these things are threatened or missing ... but to be grateful today. Now. This very moment.

On my way home from work the other day, I saw a dozen cars stopped where traffic normally flows smoothly. The backup went beyond a bend in the road.

“What's going on?” I wondered. Accident? Animal in the road? Broken-down vehicle?

I turned down another road and took a different way home. No time lost.

It made me think, however, of the times I’ve made an effort to see what’s going on. Not intentionally sitting in traffic ... but rather, seeing what the commotion is about. Hearing an argument and perking up my ear. Seeing something going on and changing course to go investigate. Not in order to help, but to indulge in a little rubbernecking.

Perhaps not a big deal.

However, if we have important work to do — if we value our time, our energy, and our purpose — we might think twice about falling so easily into distraction. As best we can, let’s stay focused on the work that matters.

The hard work is not collecting the data. Or putting it into pretty charts and graphs.

The hard work is deciding what to do now that we see the data.

All that discussion and analysis and interpretation is useless if we’re not willing to take action.