To paraphrase a Franciscan priest: “When people say they don’t have time to pray, what they mean is that they don’t think prayer will work.”

It’s not a problem of time; it’s a problem of faith.

And it’s a powerful lens, regardless of our spiritual practice or religious affiliation.

When we believe something will work, we make time for it. Even if it’s inconvenient. Even if it takes priority over other important things.

On the other hand, when we don’t believe in something, or we doubt its effectiveness, or we’re hesitant to bet on a positive outcome — we’re far less likely to hold space for that thing.

Are the circumstances the problem, or is it your perspective?

The solution to whatever it is that’s vexing you might be to change how you’re thinking about it.

This word, not that one. This musical note, not that one. This hue. This mark. This flavor. This angle. This lighting.

For creators, part of the work is in making countless choices based on training, skill, experience, and intention.

Even the choice of whether an opportunity merits creation at all.

In a way, every choice is a creative act. The question is: what’s the choice in service of?

Someone recently asked me, “When did you decide to write a daily blog?”

I answered: “Over four years ago.”

But the real answer is: “Today.”

That’s the way it is with streaks. They’re only streaks because you keep doing them. And to do that, you have to make the decision every day. You don’t wait for the moment; you decide in advance of the moment.

What have you already decided upon today?

In my studio, it regularly takes me longer to build something than I think it will. In my mind, a project will take a few hours, but it really takes a couple days. In my mind, the commission will take a few weeks, but it really takes a couple months. It’s always longer than what’s in my head. Chalk it up to endless optimism.

The flipside is that some things can happen right away … but in my mind, I imagine they will take a long time. Like telling myself a new story. Like changing my mind about something I believe. Like adopting a new intention. These things seem like a heavy lift, but they can happen in a heartbeat if we want them to.

A prompt for the workforce:

“The work I get paid for _______ the work I love.”

What fills in the blank?

• is (or is not)

• supports

• funds

• informs

• enhances

• is not related to

• distracts from

• conflicts with

• denies

• has become

• used to be

It’s different for everyone. For you, are you comfortable with the words that fill the blank?

If not, what might you consider changing?

When I’m playing catch with my sons, the rule is, you have to end on a catch.

Sometimes, when it’s time to go inside — wouldn’t you know it — one of them quickly develops the tendency to drop a perfectly thrown ball.

“Oops?”

When we want the game to continue, sometimes we fail on purpose.

This can happen in many areas of our life. Depending on the game we’re playing, sometimes it can be fun to keep it going. Other times, it probably doesn’t serve us well.

Common to large airport terminals, moving walkways can improve a traveler’s pace along a thoroughfare.

Consider how this relates to working alone versus working within an organization.

Alone, your pace is your pace. Each step is the result of your singular effort.

Within an organization, however, it’s possible that your forward motion is complemented by the forward motion of the larger structure. It’s like walking atop a moving walkway.

There’s a tradeoff, of course. In an organization, your influence on direction can be limited.

On your own, there are fewer guard rails, and you get to set the course.

Ultimately, how you like to operate and where you want to go will determine how you choose to travel.

Sometimes the ideas come fast and furious. Other times, they are frustratingly absent.

There’s an ebb and flow in creative work. Each state offers its own challenges.

When ideas are plentiful, it can be difficult to choose a single path. Everything is shiny. Everything has potential. We risk becoming overwhelmed with possibility.

On the other hand, an absence of ideas can be challenging too. The blank page has a way of resisting the first mark. It’s easy to feel stuck.

In the anxious lulls, don’t treat creativity like a lazy servant; see it as an infant that needs gentle care. Be patient and encouraging. Delight in tender beginnings.

And when there are too many ideas on the table, recognize that you’re seeing the infinitude of the universe. Remember that we’re always faced with many choices. That’s a beautiful thing. Sometimes you just have to pick one and go. Choosing all paths is not one of the choices.

All of us stumble; it’s part of being human. But sometimes we catastrophize such stumbling.

There’s a common phrase in Argentina: Un tropiezo no es caída.

A stumble is not a fall.

It’s a simple reminder of hope and the value of having perspective.

The beauty of course-correction is that it can be done at any time.

It requires no special conditions. It promises no particular outcomes.

Yes, it sets a new point on the horizon, but for the near-term, the adjustment is immediate and within reach.

Course-correction is about small changes that will eventually have outsized effects. Let the effects not be our primary concern; instead, let’s focus on the small changes. The long-term positive effects will take care of themselves.

In many situations, faster isn’t harder — it’s just different.

Often, slower is what’s harder … but it can also be more valuable.

Some of the most important and meaningful work we ever do can take only a few minutes or a few hours … but it takes years of gathering up enough nerve to do it.

And that’s OK.

“Many hands make light the work.”

But the hands must volunteer. Or be directed. Or invited.

Without coordination, more hands can become part of the burden instead of the solution.

We live in a world of sufficiency. Not all of us, but many of us.

So much so that we often have leftovers. Leftover food. Leftover time. Leftover energy. Leftover resources. Leftover attention.

And the question is: what do we do with it?

Who wants it? Who needs it? Who deserves it? Who will gladly take it if we don’t make an intentional choice otherwise?

Most of it won’t keep; we can’t hoard it. So where will it make a difference?

Saying “thank you” is a practical courtesy.

It can be short and simple, or laden with detail.

But the best thanks is the kind we express with actions, not words.

Suffering correlates tightly with how much attention we give to things outside of our influence.

Focus on what’s within your control. (And, accept that your mind is often the only item on that short list.)

You don’t attend the funeral because you know what to say. You attend the funeral because simply being present can be of comfort.

Not every act of kindness requires words, gestures, or gifts.

Sometimes what’s needed is your time and attention. Sometimes what’s needed is for you to be present as witness and friend.

The darkest times are often the quietest times.

In those moments, it’s our own voice that speaks loudest.

Don’t amplify the difficulties. Don’t soak in despair.

Be the encourager. Be the gentle coach. Speak words of hope — even if you don’t yet fully believe them.

You are your own travelling partner. Be a supportive guide no matter the weather.

• All new. Meticulous attention to detail.

• Needs work. Available as-is.

• Carefully maintained. Lots of character.

• Historic landmark.

• Currently occupied by tenants.

These real estate phrases make for entertaining metaphors if we think about how they might describe people and new connections.

I wonder: how would you describe yourself?