Be open to bold advice … but beware of bold advice from insulated advisors.

Those who have big safety nets and fireproof coats won’t always take into account your potential to fall or get burned.

Assess your own risk tolerance accordingly.

I overheard a colleague having a disappointing customer service experience that ended with the agent on the phone rudely disconnecting the call.

My colleague’s problem still wasn’t solved, so he called back to speak to someone else. Now he wasn’t just a customer with a problem; he was a frustrated customer with a problem.

Consider the transition from the first agent to the second. Without having deserved it, the second agent had inherited a headache created by first.

This happens in many settings. One sour interaction creates a deficit — and the fallout is felt by the next person in line.

It’s good to remember this when you’re passing along an unsolved problem. Someone else will have to deal with the mess you’re creating.

And it’s good to remember this when you’re the one picking up where someone else left off. That person’s present state has been influenced by previous interactions.

And it’s good too, to keep all of this in mind when you’re on the receiving end.

Of course, this heredity isn’t always negative. It can be the opposite. When we’re at our best, we can create virtuous cycles where positive interactions spread.

Even better, the positive influence can begin from either side: from those serving or those being served.

You might feel un-qualified.

But you’re not necessarily dis-qualified.

* * *

We have the ability to — slowly but surely — form our future selves.

And doors that have shut don’t always stay locked.

For some people, as soon as they open their eyes, they’re wide awake.

For others, they’re not fully alert until sometime after they’ve gotten out of bed.

Our projects can begin similarly. Some of them come alive the moment we begin. Others need time — some groggy stumbling — before they come to full stride.

Either way, we can’t always wait for a perfectly refreshed spark. Sometimes we have to push through a sluggish beginning.

The hardest way of answering the question, “What do I do?”

… is by not effectively answering the question, “What do I want?”

You don’t need an instrument to make music.

You don’t need a canvas to be an artist.

You don’t need eyes to have vision.

You don’t need words to be poetic.

You don’t need movement to dance with joy.

* * *

Don’t let “if only” keep you from a world of possibility.

One way to determine walkway placement is to let them emerge naturally. As people navigate between and around buildings, paths begin to wear. These trails become the blueprints for more permanent construction.

Even better is the name for these lines: desire paths.

* * *

If you’re game, zoom out. Soak in the big picture of your life. Take note of your own desire paths. Do they follow the roadways that the culture has already paved? Perhaps there are some interesting lines that are the result of your own creative journeying.

When you’re feeling down, or uninspired, or listless … check the dashboard.

Are you hungry? Are you dehydrated? Have you been getting enough sleep? What have you been reading? What have you been watching? What have you been eating?

If you’re feeling off, you might not have lost your connection to the Muse. You might not have run out of good ideas. You might not have an underlying illness.

Of all the possibilities, begin by checking in on the simple things.

There’s an old saying in medicine: If you hear hoof beats, think of horses, not zebras.

You may indeed have some complex things going on … but tending to the simple things can often pay outsized dividends.

Paul Cézanne once said, “A work of art which did not begin in emotion is not art.”

Inasmuch as we can all feel, we can all make art.

Let yourself feel more.

From there, coax art into existence.

Sometimes we put our work into the world and we wait for it to catch fire. We send out sparks of creativity — watching to see if it spreads.

It’s easy to get discouraged if “catching fire” is all you’re looking for. Especially if it’s not happening.

But maybe the kind of work you’re doing is firefly work. A little bit of light. A brief glow. Magic in small doses.

Let it be so.

Remember: fireflies can light up the night with beauty.

How much does it take for us to be satisfied? To be grateful? To set aside critique?

Can we enjoy the coffee if we don’t like the mug?
Or a meal if the side is not to our liking?
A generous friend with one annoying quality?
A beautiful book with one boring chapter?
A great movie with a lackluster end?

We know this: perfection is impossible. It’s an illusion.

But there’s still much to love. Much to appreciate. Much to embrace.

We can focus on beauty or we can focus on flaws. It’s our choice — and there’s an endless supply of both.

Roofers will tell you: “You can’t fix a leak in the rain.”

It’s a good reminder. Sometimes, we have to wait for the storm to pass. The best you can do in the meantime is to get a bucket and try to keep things dry.

* * *

If you have moments when life feels like a rainy day with a leaky roof, be patient. The storm will pass and you can patch things up later. (The sun might even shine while you work on the repairs.)

But when it’s raining … things just might get a little wet.

Last week, I took a train from Frankfurt to Nuremberg. Ten minutes into the journey, before I was asked for my ticket, an attendant asked, “Would you like something to drink?” I was happy to request water. But his second question is what stuck with me: “Are you hungry?”

Not, “What can I get you?” or “Do you want to see a menu?” but, “Are you hungry?”

There’s something familial about asking the question that way. Kind. Connected. Needs-oriented.

A simple interaction with a Deutsche Bahn employee, and I felt cared for.

* * *

The way we ask — the way we offer services — it makes a difference.

With the right words, a transaction can become an encounter.

Sometimes children want to do something, but they don’t want advice about it.

Even good advice.

From someone who’s done it before.

From someone who knows how to do it correctly.

They just want to do it however they’re going to do it.

It’s part independence, part experimentation, part stubbornness.

Right or wrong, win or lose … in that moment, they will not be influenced or deterred.

(And adults occasionally act in this same way.)

As we invest in all sorts of things — money, time, resources, relationships — we strike a balance between the certainty of today and the uncertainty of the future.

A guiding principle: Invest like tomorrow is guaranteed, but live knowing that it’s not.

The United States purchased Alaska from Russia in 1867. At the time, U.S. Secretary of State William H. Seward was lambasted. The deal was known as “Seward’s Folly” and President Johnson’s “polar bear garden”.

Alaska would eventually be treasured for its beauty, wildlife, and natural resources.

Foolish decisions aren’t always wise moves in disguise. Sometimes people do make colossal errors in judgement.

But history shows us that some things seen as wisdom today … were once seen as complete folly.

In your projects and in your creative work, it could be that you’re building. You’ve been careful to lay a foundation. Stone upon stone. Brick upon brick. You’re choosing every piece to last the test of time.

But it’s possible that another metaphor could serve you better.

Sometimes we’re not building. Sometimes we’re crossing a stream, and the stepping stones only need to be in place while we traverse the waters.

In this sense, the stepping stones can be temporary. Not a permanent bridge, but a way to the next stage.

The advice is not to be careless. The advice is to consider the difference between building something to last … and the value of nimble forward movement. Each has its season.

An unexpected delay can cost you time, money, productivity, and opportunity.

You don’t need to let it cost you your peace as well.

The mind is yours to manage — in all situations.

Touch a hot stove once and the lesson is learned.

Most of our learning, however, is not so straightforward. It’s not as clear. Not as sticky.

Many lessons have to be learned again and again and again.

Because learning is a practice, not a light switch.

Right is not always easy.

Fair is not necessarily even.

Justice may require sacrifice.

And sometimes, movement involves standing firm.