The person behind the desk asked, “Can I help you?”

I replied, “Maybe. I’m not sure if I’m in the right place.”

This happens sometimes, too, in an existential sense. We look around and we wonder, “Am I in the right place? Is this where I’m supposed to be?”

And there might be people along the way who help us to answer that question. But when our vision is clear, we can help others. We can choose the generous act of noticing someone doing right and saying, “I see you. You’re doing a good thing here.”

Or the more generous act of offering, “If it’s not here, then where is it that you want to go? I will do what I can to help you get there.”

When I was in high school, I remember writing reminders that I’d tape across my bedroom door jamb at night. Things like “biology homework” or “library book” or “linseed oil”. When I woke up, I couldn’t leave my room without seeing the reminder.

Making a morning routine of checking a list in a notebook would have been a more refined system. Probably would have been a better habit to develop. But for fifteen-year-old me, the taped sign worked.

Today, I use different tools for reminders. Whether it’s analog or digital, the important thing is to find a system that works. If the tools and methods you’re using aren’t helping you to accomplish your goals, find new tools and new methods.

Let’s pretend that we have a legitimate claim on what the weather is supposed to do.

Even if that were so (and it’s not) how much is our surprise or disappointment going to change the precipitation?

The rain is just as wet when it’s predicted as when it’s unexpected.

So when it rains, don a slicker and pull out an umbrella ... or get wet. Don’t spend much time worrying about what the weather was supposed to do. Like so many things out of our control, it does what it will. What we can control is what we do once we see the raindrops.

Is this another metaphor? Yes. I think so.

There’s a difference between speaking, texting, typing, and writing longhand. A difference in the way the words are formulated and expressed. A difference in the way the words are received.

Part of this has to do with tradition. Part of it has to do with technology and its availability. Speed of delivery plays a role too.

Some sound advice: make a clear choice about the media with which you communicate ... based on what you’re communicating and what you’re hoping to accomplish. The method matters, and there’s a big difference between what’s satisfactory and what’s best.

I’ve often written about being intentional. But while we try our best to be thoughtful and deliberate, there are many times we’re not.

The reality is … many times, people are not intentional. Including us.

It’s a mistake to assume that others are always intentional in what they do and say. They’re not.

This is not to suggest that people aren’t accountable for their words and actions. Rather, it’s a reminder. Sometimes that long, detailed story we invent — the one about what’s going on inside someone else’s head — sometimes we get that story wrong.

Win or lose, when the play is over, we get ready for the next play.

And if it’s the end of the game, we get ready for the next game.

And if it’s the end of the season, we get ready for the next season.

And if it’s the end of our career, we get ready for the next career.

And if it’s the end of our long journey, we get ready for the journey beyond.

It never ends with the win or the loss. It’s always about getting ready for what’s next.

As I opened a cabinet with a child lock, I realized that the lock was no longer necessary. My youngest son (for whom the lock was installed) is now old enough to use the contents of that cabinet, and he knows how to operate the latch. He does so many times every day.

* * *

This got me thinking about locks and gatekeepers. How things change over time, and how we may have locks where they’re no longer needed.

How we may be keeping people out of things to which they should now have access.

How some things which were once exclusive, might be improved if they were inclusive.

So the question is this: where are the locks and latches that we can remove? The barriers that, once removed, would make things better?

You are capable of great things.

Do you need to read it again?

You are capable of great things.

If you need to, write it down and read it often.

The other message — the one of fear and insecurity — it’s neither worthy of being written down nor worthy of being repeated.

You are capable of great things.

Capable.

Now are you willing?

Instead of making big promises, what if we made small promises ... and kept them?

Not that we can’t think big and act big. Indeed we should.

But if we aren’t reliable with the little things, maybe we’re missing part of the big picture.

When we leave a job or a relationship we give ourselves a fresh start.

It’s not completely fresh. Our history — or a vestige of it — often accompanies us.

Nonetheless, when we leave one thing, we have the opportunity to set a new course. New adventures. New challenges. New possibilities.

Of course, we can also give ourselves a fresh start without leaving anything except a mindset … and we can do it at any moment.

We can begin anew by doing just that: beginning anew. Adopting a new posture. A new commitment. A new attitude.

No matter how we do it, a fresh start is a gift we give to ourselves. Let’s be generous in that regard.

Sometimes we do the right thing, but at the wrong time.

Like someone who makes a valiant push moments before a door is unlocked.

Or someone who plants the right seeds, the right way, but in the wrong season.

Be patient. You might not be reaping the benefits of your good work if the timing is wrong.

But just because you’re out of sync at the moment doesn’t mean you’re not doing the right thing ... and it certainly doesn’t mean that you should start doing the wrong things.

Keeping doing right. Your time will come.

Sometimes it’s not about how fast you can go or how well you can perform.

Sometimes it’s about what’s in your way.

A good question to ask yourself is this:

Given what I’m capable of doing, what’s getting in my way?

I asked a friend about his job and what he thinks his department should be doing that they’re not doing.

“If you were in charge ... if you didn’t have to ask permission ... what would you do? What changes would you make? What would enable your department do its best work?”

He mentioned four things.

Here’s what’s remarkable: without needing approval or additional resources, he can already implement three of those four things — including the thing he identified as most important.

* * *

Sometimes we’re capable of making things right ... and we just don’t stop to recognize that capability.

Sometimes our biggest roadblock is ourselves. That we have a mindset of limitation.

Maybe it’s not about “what would you do” ... maybe it’s about what will you do. Because maybe you can.

It’s one thing to wait for the right opportunity. But if you’re not ready to leap when the opportunity presents itself, then you’ll miss it.

Waiting is more than just being vigilant; it’s also being poised to act.

Your posture is part of your readiness.

Yesterday, I saw a young baseball outfielder miss catching a fly ball. He slumped his shoulders and hung his head as the ball continued past him and nestled at the bottom of the fence.

A teammate had been sprinting towards him, and finished the play ... quickly grabbing the ball and throwing it hard into the infield.

Most of the time, we’re not as fortunate to have a teammate who’s there to chase the ball we’ve dropped.

Most of the time, the onus is upon us to be quick on our feet. To recognize our personal responsibility and to play our position with heart.

Yes, there will be times we stumble, and we may be judged for it. But we will also be judged by what we do immediately afterwards.

After all, everybody stumbles. How we recover often ends up having more significance.

What is it like to be your friend?

What is it like to be your coworker?

What is it like to be your partner?

What is it like to be your neighbor?

When we ask ourselves, “What is it like to interact with me?” it gives us an opportunity to imagine someone else’s experience of the world with us in it.

Sometimes this practice results in us feeling good about who we are and how we live.

And sometimes it challenges us to make an adjustment. A change in attitude. A change in our approach. A change in our action. A change in effort.

It begins by asking the question, “What is the world like with me in it?”

There’s no direct correlation between eloquence and good ideas.

Plenty of skilled speakers have bad ideas, and plenty of brilliant minds struggle to bring voice to their thoughts.

The challenge is in identifying the good ideas ... even when they’re whispered, or awkwardly presented ... and to be wise enough to look past the polished fluff.

Without purpose, we lose focus. Without purpose, we can become distracted by shiny things.

Problem is, our world is filled with shiny things. There’s an endless supply.

And those shiny things don’t care about us. They have no concern for our goals and our hopes and our dreams. They’re just shiny things that seek our attention.

Let’s focus on our goals. Let’s recommit to our purpose. Let’s make sure those shiny distractions don’t keep us from being our best selves.

“We’ve always done this, so we’ll keep doing it.”

This can be a good thing ... if the thing is serving us well. If it’s working.

But “what we’ve always done” doesn’t always maintain effectiveness in an ever-changing world.

Unless, of course, “what we’ve always done” is “periodically questioned what we do to ensure that we’re doing what’s best.”

If that’s the case, then we should keep doing what we’ve always done.

Some people seem to stay the same as time goes by. But people can change.

When they do, it can take time for us to understand or accept the change (not that it’s even ours to understand or accept).

If we’ve already made up our mind about a person, it’s a lot easier to stick to the story we know.

It takes emotional labor to navigate a change in someone else. It takes curiosity, empathy, and open-mindedness to learn about a person’s new interests, new values, new habits, or new identity.

But that’s our challenge. To loosen our grip on “I know all about you” and to embrace the idea of “I’m curious about you, and I want to know more” ... even for people whose story we think we already know.