Which stopped working first? You or the new habit?

The problem with “will begin to see results in four to six weeks” is that we often don’t have weeks worth of patience. We’d rather see the results right now, thank you very much.

Whether it’s a new medicine, a fitness routine, a creative practice, or studying new material … change doesn’t always happen overnight. More often, change is gradual. And for what might seem like too long, change can be invisible. Like a germinating seed, the (important) initial stages of growth can be hidden from our eyes.

Trust the process. Give it time. Work worth doing is reward worth waiting.

We all start somewhere.

Nothing says we have to keep starting from that same place.

Often, it’s a choice.

Nodding your head is easy, much easier than taking follow-up action.

It’s thrilling to discover new ideas and truths. We read something and think, “Yes! Exactly!” But highlights, underlines, and sticky notes don’t amount to change.

Indeed, the gulf between theory and practice can be huge.

The question is often: Now that I know this, what will I do?

“I am not throwin’ away my shot.”

Lin-Manuel Miranda’s Hamilton teaches us the importance of taking our shot.

But it’s just as important to remember that for the most part, we get many shots. Maybe not a second shot at the same thing, but other shots in other situations. Some might even be bigger. Many will be smaller.

Whether we win or lose, leap or freeze, new opportunities will always be on the horizon.

So take your shot, and then look for the next. It will be along.

What are your rules for living? Do you play it by ear? Perhaps you’ve written them down. Maybe yours are drawn from sacred texts.

If you haven’t codified them, it could be useful. It could be helpful, too, to browse others’ rules.

Take clinical psychologist Jordan B. Peterson’s list. The table of contents from his book 12 Rules for Life is compelling, even without further explanation.

Rule 1 / Stand up straight with your shoulders back
Rule 2 / Treat yourself like someone you are responsible for helping
Rule 3 / Make friends with people who want the best for you
Rule 4 / Compare yourself to who you were yesterday, not to who someone else is today
Rule 5 / Do not let your children do anything that makes you dislike them
Rule 6 / Set your house in perfect order before you criticize the world
Rule 7 / Pursue what is meaningful (not what is expedient)
Rule 8 / Tell the truth—or, at least, don’t lie
Rule 9 / Assume that the person you are listening to might know something you don’t
Rule 10 / Be precise in your speech
Rule 11 / Do not bother children when they are skateboarding
Rule 12 / Pet a cat when you encounter one on the street

What are some of your own guiding principles? (I’d love to hear them.)

“One way or another” is a useful attitude, unless we become too focused on the “one way” and forget about the countless other possibilities.

Our first attempts won’t always work, and it can be hard to overcome the sting of that experience.

But overcome it we must.

Lots of people can make a first attempt. Far fewer have the resilience to try again.

The better we can get at making additional attempts, the better we’ll be in the long run.

I know a purchasing manager who has a “worry board”. It’s an affectionate term for a whiteboard that lists all the parts in short supply or with long lead times.

What’s nice about the whiteboard is that it has a physical limitation; it can only list so many things. It’s a double-edged sword, though. Concerns are top-of-mind so they aren’t forgotten, but that also means that they’re always staring at you.

* * *

What’s on your own worry board? Is it in plain view? Is it all rational? Has it gotten overgrown? What would happen if you switched to a smaller size?

What would happen if you wiped it clean?

Trust. Make. Do. Allow.

Work, and work hard. None of it happens without hard work.

Purpose and meaning will reveal themselves — little by little — not in advance of the work, but through the work.

Stop running. Start feeling.

Don’t wonder by thinking, wonder by doing.

You can hit every red light along the way … and still be on the right path.

Delays and setbacks aren’t coded messages that you’re going the wrong direction; they’re a normal part of every worthwhile journey.

Daylight Saving Time ended last week and we moved our clocks back one hour.

Looking out the window after a day’s work, I said to a colleague, “Weird driving home in the dark, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but it happens every year.”

(My friend is not one for small talk.)

It’s interesting. A regular event — one that is known, anticipated, and even familiar — can still feel awkward.

Perhaps it’s because change is change, and it often requires adjustment.

Whether internal or external, gradual or sudden, we’re always navigating a changing world. We can become skilled in that navigation, but that skill doesn’t make change invisible. Instead, we become more aware of it … but as a friend, not an adversary.

You might not always recognize former versions of yourself.

But why would you?

Back then, things were different. The world was different. Your circumstances were different. You were different.

Who you are now is who you are now. And that might not be exactly who you’ll be tomorrow.

Of course you have a history. Of course there’s a through line. But we’re also ever-evolving inventions upon reinventions.

The evergreen consideration is this: who are you today, and in what direction are you moving?

When we doubt our individual potential to influence the world, let us recall R. Buckminster Fuller’s wisdom:

Something hit me very hard once, thinking about what one little man could do. Think of the Queen Elizabeth — the whole ship goes by and then comes the rudder. And there’s a tiny thing at the edge of the rudder called a trim tab. It’s a miniature rudder. Just moving the little trim tab builds a low pressure that pulls the rudder around. Takes almost no effort at all. So I said that the little individual can be a trim tab. Society thinks it’s going right by you, that it’s left you altogether. But if you’re doing dynamic things mentally, the fact is that you can just put your foot out like that and the whole big ship of state is going to go. So I said, “Call me Trim Tab.”

The truth is that you get the low pressure to do things, rather than getting on the other side and trying to push the bow of the ship around. And you build that low pressure by getting rid of a little nonsense, getting rid of things that don’t work and aren’t true until you start to get that trim-tab motion. It works every time. That’s the grand strategy you’re going for. So I’m positive that what you do with yourself, just the little things you do yourself, these are the things that count. To be a real trim tab, you’ve got to start with yourself, and soon you’ll feel that low pressure, and suddenly things begin to work in a beautiful way. Of course, they happen only when you’re dealing with really great integrity.

A wise and inspiring metaphor. Thank you, Bucky.

Hot melt glue is a wonderfully useful material. For many projects and applications, it’s just the right thing.

But versatile solutions come with a downside: the temptation to think that they’re universal solutions.

And we know that’s not true.

Versatile solutions allow the expert to move with facility. They lighten the mental burden for addressing many problems.

But they risk being overused — particularly when someone is being lazy or they just don’t know any better.

Knowing when to grab the metaphorical glue gun — and when to resist its use — takes both knowledge and discipline.

There’s a fullness that comes from acting out of love — one that is never matched by things done out of guilt.

The very same actions can have radically different rewards. It all depends on the heart.

“We specialze in proofreading.”

* * *

There are times when we can be casual, fast, and loose.

But sometimes, the details are a signal. Sometimes, the details affirm (or call into doubt) the promises that we make.

A mistake in the wrong place or at the wrong time can raise a lot of questions about the important work we set out to do.

When it matters — and where it matters — be free of error.

When you’re working on something, you watch it. You track your progress.

Whether you’re building muscle, growing a following, raising funds, or painting a fence. Each incremental step is on your radar.

Conversely, we create a kind of misery when we don’t put in the work, but we still watch, waiting to see a change.

It sounds like a joke. You can, of course, use a pencil with either hand.

The handedness of a pencil has nothing to do with its function; it’s about what you see when you hold the tool.

Nearly every pencil you find will have text that begins toward the tip and travels toward the eraser. For ninety percent of the population this means that the words are presented properly when they hold a pencil in their writing hand.

For the rest of us — the lefties — the words are upside down (except for when we erase).

It’s useful to consider: some things are so natural that they’re invisible. For most people, if the text on a pencil is noticed at all, it will be unremarkable. For others, it will be upside-down, as usual.

Of what other differences in experience are we unaware? What other design choices quietly favor one group over another? Surely, the list is extensive.

“Where does the time go?”

If it’s an honest question, find the answer. Take a day (or even better, a week) and track what you’re doing. Use a simple spreadsheet or a notebook. Use an app or a screen-time tracker if you’d like. Log every fifteen-minute block.

Again, if the question of “where does the time go” is a serious one, then do the work. Not forever. Just until you know what’s going on.

It won’t take long to discover blind spots.

Once you see the big picture, you can decide if there are things that don’t align with your values. Then you can make an adjustment.

But step one is getting clear about what you’re doing with all that time. After all, we don’t have an endless supply.

But we do have this very moment — all of us.

There’s little satisfaction in things that are too easy or too hard.

Things that are too easy become boring and useless. Things that are too hard become frustrating and demoralizing.

We like challenges that are somewhere inside of those edges.

If you’re feeling discomfort, it might not be that things are too hard. It might be that they’re too easy.

Meet uncomfortable feelings with curiosity — not with hostility or resistance.

Feel what you feel. If it prompts discomfort, hold that discomfort (at least for a moment).

Seek to understand. “Why am I feeling this way? What’s underneath that? And underneath that?”

Allow yourself to follow the thread to its origin.

Our feelings are messages, and in a way, we’re the messenger.

Welcome the messenger and see what you can learn.