Don’t just forward information.

Don’t just list the problems.

Summarize the situation.

Synthesize the data.

Ideate solutions.

It’s our job as partners, employees, colleagues, and linchpins … not to regurgitate, but to add value.

I love to sing.

But not every day presents me with an occasion to sing.

Unsurprisingly, I do not receive daily requests: “Please sing something. I’d love to hear your voice. Right now will do.” (Agreed, that might be awkward.)

And yet, the opportunity to sing is there if I embrace it.

The world — yes, “the world” — does ask us to sing. Does ask us to have a voice. Does ask us to contribute.

Like skipping, singing is a placeholder. It’s what we get to do if we choose to do it.

Sure, we can hide. We can keep our gifts to ourselves.

But what happens when we choose to do the opposite?

Choose anyone who’s at the top of their game. An athlete. A musician. A writer. An entrepreneur.

You will be able to find someone (perhaps many someones) who doesn’t like that person. They might even say things like, “I hate her,” or “Ugh. I can’t stand them.”

What does this tell us?

Some people just can’t be pleased. Some people are perpetual fault-finders. And no one is universally loved.

* * *

We have a bias toward the negative. Our ears and our hearts are fine-tuned to recognize criticism.

But let’s use our minds to shut that out. To ignore it. To recognize that some people don’t know us, they don’t care about us or where we’re headed, and their comments aren’t going to serve us well.

The very best of the best is not without harsh critics. That we ourselves are treated harshly by some is to be expected.

It’s not nice and it’s not fair … but it’s not going to keep us from doing our good work.

Last year, I changed the way I create to-do lists: I added a column titled, “Why is this important?”

That simple column changes my mindset.

First, it helps me to keep trivial items off the list. If I can’t identify why it’s important, it doesn’t go on the list.

Second, it helps me to focus on the “why” that drives my action.

I’ve noticed that the “why is this important” column often relates to my identity.

For instance, beside “submit report” I don’t write, “because it’s due.” Instead, I begin to write something like, “so-and-so needs this,” which I edit to, “I’m a responsible colleague,” and then further revise to, “my contribution is valuable to the team.”

Another example: “dust the dashboard and vacuum the car,” isn’t important because, “it’s dirty.” Rather, it’s important because, “I’m the kind of person who takes care of his belongings.”

See the difference?

As I do these mental edits of why something is important, the column begins to reflect who I want to be. The to-do list becomes an affirmation of my best self. “I don’t miss appointments.” “I value learning.” “I take care of my physical body.” “I prioritize family.”

The daily task list becomes more meaningful than a simple checklist.

* * *

The to-do list helps me keep track of what needs doing. The “why” column is what keeps me committed.

Your heroes are flawed. In ways you recognize and in ways unseen.

Know it. Accept it. “Forgive” it if that’s what you need to do.

Love them even more in that they can be so heroic while still being so human.

(It’s likely that you’re someone’s flawed hero too.)

Heard recently: “I wish we could just sit around the table and hash this out.”

Today, that’s a wasted wish.

We can sit around the table … just not the same way we used to.

A slight shift in expectations of venue, and we can collaborate more efficiently than ever.

No driving. No subway. No plane tickets. No hotel rooms or conference centers.

Just a camera and an internet connection, and we’re around the table discussing whatever needs to be discussed.

We can even sit quietly together if that’s what will feed us.

We won’t always be physically separated. But while we are … we still gather around the table — just in a new way.

Look around. This very moment, you are in the presence of the beauty of creation.

Even more, you are an integral part of it.

You can’t lose that connection, but you can sometimes forget about it.

Don’t.

Much of the world operates because of millions of workers who are cogs in the system. They follow directions, they perform repeatable tasks, and they don’t question the way things are done. “Don’t blame me. I’m just doing what I was told.”

You might ask: Wouldn’t things fall apart without these workers?

Perhaps.

But just because the current systems call for cog-like workers doesn’t mean that you need to be one of them.

How do you know when something works? How do you know if it’s broken?

One way is to listen for the response. In some instances, we know something is working because it generates a visible reaction — a facial expression, a change in posture, a count of likes or shares. Or, we know it’s working because we hear nothing: no news is good news.

When we’re lucky, we’re connected to generous critics. Those who know where we’re aiming, and who can let us know when we’ve missed the mark. “Did you mean to say this, because I think you might have meant to say this other thing.”

Not a troll. Not an adversary. But a fellow traveler who shines light on what we might be missing.

These connections — when you can find them — are golden.

* * *

H/T: my father, who encouraged me to revisit the phrase, “effect change,” and to Nic, who helped me to see a new coding error in this blog’s email template (which I gladly corrected and would have otherwise missed).

Today is February 3rd. Unlike the movie, you are not repeating yesterday.

Today is a new day.

Nothing can be done about yesterday.

We have only today, and we begin again, fresh.

Just like always.

My departure for the office was delayed by a full ten minutes yesterday.

Weekly goal-setting and the morning inbox triage would need to wait.

The unanticipated priority was the need to cut out two cardboard shapes representing two generations of gingerbread men (one adult, and one baby).

“Can you please help me? They are my favorite shapes, Daddy.”

Top of mind for a kindergartener is creativity and play. Not management meetings. Not accounting audits. Just creativity and play.

Here’s to cutting out your favorite shapes, and making sure the important things stay at the front of the queue.

I stopped drinking alcohol for the month of January. I’ve done this for a few years now. Here are my takeaways from this past month:

• I lost some weight

• I generally slept better

• My skin was healthier

• I embraced a more intentional bedtime routine

• I proved to myself that I can change my habits

Most of all, I learned that a little bit of discipline can grease the wheels for other good habits.

Whether it’s directly influenced or not, during Dry January, I also happened to be great about making the bed, flossing my teeth, exercising, and daily reading and writing.

One good thing builds on another.

What good habits are you cobbling together these days?

Maybe start with just one and see what happens.

Midway through a book, I thought, “I don’t like this book.”

Instead of discarding it, I paused to consider: What don’t I like?

Was the content lacking? Was it the style? Was it the way the text was set on the page? The typeface?

Turns out, I didn’t appreciate the writing style. It was too conversational for me. Too many asides.

However, the content was good. I could still learn a lot from the book (which was my intention).

Do we ignore a professor’s genius because we don’t like her glasses? Or a brilliant lecturer because of the way he gestures when speaking? Or a blogger for overusing commas, dashes, and ellipses?

Of course not.

Look past the surface. Ignore the immaterial. Look for what can be learned.

Every minute of the day counts. Michael Lopp says it beautifully:

“... there are no marginal minutes. It is my personal and professional responsibility as a leader to bring as much enthusiasm, curiosity, and forward momentum to every single minute of my day. When I find myself in a situation where the value is not obvious, I seek it because it’s always there.”

I love this. So often we find ourselves in an uninspiring situation, and we hold our breath. Let’s just wait this out. It will be over soon, and we’ll be back to finding what’s meaningful.

But there are no marginal minutes. All the minutes are valuable.

Be someone who learns. Be curious. Be alive.

And seek the value; it’s always there.

There’s a 30-yard corridor in my office building.

For the past week, any time I’ve navigated this hallway, I’ve skipped. Literally. Not walking, but skipping. And not casually, either. Sky-high, in-it-to-win-it skipping.

Did you know: it’s nearly impossible to skip angrily? In fact, it’s almost impossible to do it without smiling.

Skipping is just a placeholder. There are lots of ways to bring small, unnecessary moments of joy to the day.

I hope you’ll try something silly of your own. It’s totally worth it.

Think before you say, “yes.”

It’s easy to agree to something quick and near-term. (We’re often eager to help.)

But what about the long-term yesses that are still pending? Those important, non-urgent issues that need our attention … but perhaps not immediately?

Let’s make sure the urgent requests of today don’t continually steal from the fire that feeds tomorrow and beyond.

In telling about a recent job, a photographer friend explained that he was, “shooting heavy.”

What he meant was that he was taking a lot of photographs. Not recklessly or haphazardly, but mindfully allowing for quantity.

This is in contrast to taking just a few photographs. If you only have one or two shots, that’s all you’ve got. Mess it up and you’re sunk.

In life, we often skew toward thinking we only have one shot. That opportunities are scarce, and we have one chance to get things right.

But many times, we have the ability to shoot heavy and pick from among the best.

I’ve been thinking of my strongest positive influences — the people, dead and alive, from ancient times onward — and how they might interact.

Would they get along? Would they be friends?

I think so.

No, they wouldn’t see eye to eye on everything. But I think they’d find themselves compatible with each other.

Even more: I think they’d be eager to learn from each other.

Perhaps this is a useful lens — a fun way to consider our heroes and influences.

What might x teach y … and how might z learn from both of them?

And what wisdom do we glean from the lot?

A friend of mine doesn’t ask herself, “Do I like this person?”

Instead, she asks, “Do I like who I am when I’m around this person?”

It’s a subtle nod to our internal monologue and the recognition of what we can and cannot control.

I like the shift in perspective.

After someone promises to do something — depending on who it is — you might consider asking one or both of these questions:

“When will you do it?”

“How will you do it?”

So often, the tension is released when someone says, “Yes. I’ll do that.”

Some people have poor scheduling skills. Or they struggle with identifying strategies and logistics.

Or they have issues with both.

Asking “When?” and “How?” is generous. It helps to keep others on the hook and it clarifies expectations for both sides.

Making a promise isn’t doing the thing. Doing the thing is doing the thing … and that often needs a timeline and a plan.