You've heard me say more than a few times how one of the most powerful things you can do to grow yourself and build your success is to capture your year. I've been doing that for almost a decade now and it has never failed to illuminate something important or improve me and my businesses in some fundamental way.
But one of the things I haven't talked as much about is the "auditing" part of capturing your year, aka the numbers. Now, before you run screaming, I'm not talking about over-complicated spreadsheets, but something simpler and more manageable: tracking your stats. Because numbers don't lie (unless of course you torture them until they confess what you want!). And if you want to measure your progress and keep yourself on track to achieve your goals, you need to get quantifying. Every year when I sit down to set my targets for the year ahead, of course there are intangible goals ("improve people's lives", "be a more present parent", etc), but almost every intangible has a tangible quality that can be counted or measured ("how many hours of their time have my clients saved by our working together", "how many evenings did I leave my phone out of sight so I could play with my daughters before bed", etc). You get where I'm going. So as you plan and refine and build your vision for what is to come this year and into your future, start counting. Not everything can be reduced to numbers, but many things can be measured in some way. And if you don't count, you may be deluding yourself about just how much - or not - you are doing. Numbers don't lie. So use them however you can to make sure you're not lying to yourself.
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At this time of year, so many of us are planning the year ahead, filling the next 365 days with goals and targets and ambitions and things-to-be-achieved. And while I am a huge proponent of planning and putting things on paper, I worry that for too many of us, our plans are rammed full of other people's agendas.
Now, someone may not actually be telling you what to do or aim for or target, but we all carry noise from external sources that influence what we think we should do: what we see others in our industry doing, what our friends are consumed with, what our family members suggest, what the books we read say about how to live/lead/succeed, what people our age care about, and, and, and... And while inspiration is wonderful, we can get so tangled in it that we silence what we know to be true for ourselves. From within ourselves. So as you plan your year ahead, think about where your "should's" are coming from, and interrogate whether they belong in your plans for your life. Tune in, turn inwards, and remember: just because you can do something, doesn't mean you should. Ahhhhhh... I love this slow period between Christmas and new year. It's quiet, it's relaxed, and it seems perfectly designed for lazy days at home after all the frantic activity of the year that's passed.
Whenever I go into seasonal hibernation-mode, I binge-watching Brooklyn Nine-Nine (or whatever TV series I am usually the last to awaken to!) and binge-read for fun (I'm currently going through a delightfully dark Finnish writer's books). Whatever your down time looks like, I hope it rejuvenates you and reminds you that it's okay to do things just for you from time to time, just because you can. And that sometimes, the world and our businesses can wait - or need to wait - while we recharge. I would love to be a part of your emotional and physical "top up" time, so I thought I'd share some of my most popular articles. These are the articles that you commented on, shared, liked, and talked about the most. For newer members of our community, I hope you enjoy these for the first time, and for all of you who have been here with me from the beginning, I hope you get a new insight, takeaway, or ah-ha moment the second time around (I know I do!)... >>Trolls, Haters, and Anonymous Negativity>> >>Run Your Own Race>> >>The Data-Driven Life>> >>The Millionaire Next Door>> >>The Life of the Mind>> >>Not Balance, but Harmony>> >>Sur-thrive-al Skills>> >>Fire Your Clients>> Happy reading, happy holidays, and happy (almost!) new year! Here are my final two Lessons Learned in 2021. Thank you to everyone who has been sharing their lessons with me these past few weeks, and here's to all of us never viewing another year (or day or week or month) as a "waste"... it's only wasted if you let it be.
Lesson 7: Good health makes all the difference - Now I have a confession to make. Whenever life gets busy or stressful, my fitness is the first thing I drop. I stop working out, I start eating Hula Hoops, and I wake up later than I want to. And for the past two years - full of COVID upheaval and having a new baby - my life has been very busy and very stressful. So my fitness slipped. And every day I would feel it in my body. Every day I would feel slightly “gross”. Every day I would feel this untapped well of energy desperate to burst forth through some form of physical exertion, and every day, it would wither and die for waiting. It was getting out of hand. And I know that how I feel IN my body (not ABOUT my body) has a huge impact on my performance. So at some point in the summer, I gave myself a kick up the a$$ and made a plan to get back to myself. I started doing the Couch to 5k program. I signed up for online ballet and yoga classes. And I made a schedule of workout times that I protected from work or other tasks. And a few days into my new routine things started to fall back into place. I was eating better. I was sleeping better. I felt better. And I was performing better. (I was also being nicer to the people I love.) You guys, it’s a cliche and often-said for a reason: health is wealth. And when we are on top of our health, it has trickle down effects on EVERY aspect of our lives. So whatever you do in 2022 and beyond, find a way to invest in your health. Whatever that means to you. And see the positive difference it makes. Lesson 8: Say yes to (some) opportunities that come your way - Now this lesson comes with a caveat. I am the first to remind anyone who will listen that “no” is one of the most important words we can master. BUT, what you say no to is less of a science and more of an art. And sometimes we have to keep our eyes open for opportunities that would be easy to say “no” to - because we don’t view them for what they are - but that we should say “yes” to. Earlier this year, I joined an author’s forum. I had bought a ticket for an event where literary agents go to find new talent, but then a friend of a friend kindly offered me her place at the same event two months sooner. It meant that I would have to get my submission materials together that much faster, but also that I would get to meet agents that much sooner. So I said yes. And that was the event where I met my now-agent who got me my now-book deal. It would have been easy to say “no” to that friend of a friend. I could have told myself that I needed more time to put my materials together. That I was too busy. That my newborn was too new for me to make time. And a whole litany of other excuses. But I didn’t. I said yes. And then I found a way to make things happen. And that’s how it is for so much of life. When we say yes to something, we find a way to make it happen. We have to. So we do. And that’s why we need to keep an eye out for the opportunities that may not look like obvious opportunities. And we have to be willing to take a chance even if we don’t realize it’s a chance worth taking. This is a tricky one to give a concrete lesson about. As I said, seeing and taking opportunities is more art than science. But if you start practicing, you’ll get better. And you’ll see which chances are worth taking and which are worth passing on. Remember, some opportunities may never come back to you. So be careful and selective. And be ready for magic to happen. I would love to hear from even more of you about your Lessons Learned in 2021, so please do get in touch! With Christmas just around the corner, here's to a great end to 2021 and bring on 2022! We're half way through my 2021 list of Lessons Learned, so sit back and enjoy this week's duo!
Lesson 5: Keep perspective - I have a foreign policy background. Before I started my first business, I worked for six years on our reconstruction and democratization efforts in Afghanistan. After I left that career behind, I paid less and less daily attention to what was happening, but still had an eye on developments there and around the world in general (yes, I am one of those people who reads The Economist cover to cover each week…). And seeing the heartbreaking way the country has relapsed and collapsed since the end of August this year has whiplashed some perspective back into my life. Now I get it. A lot of people everywhere have it hard. We all go through personal challenges and difficulties that consume us and feel like the equivalent of a personal disaster. But there is disaster. And then there is disaster. And any time I find myself anxious or worried or frustrated about how hard my life is, I look at a picture on my fridge that I took in Kabul of a car full of smiling kids who waved excitedly at me from their windows way back when. And I wonder what their lives must be like now. And I tell myself to stop being such a whiny “first-world” citizen and remember how damned lucky I am. Problems and all. If we have the luxury of access to email (and a luxury it is) and time to read articles like this one, then how bad could our problems really be? Perspective is powerful. And we all have a lot to be thankful for - yes even amidst all of the challenges we face - if we let ourselves remember that. Lesson 6: Less is (often) more - Now this is one that I find really hard to digest sometimes. I'm the kind of person who thinks "Why say something with just one word, when two hundred words will do?", but a lot of the time, less is very definitely more. This past year I have shrunk one of my businesses to almost half the size it was at its peak and it has been one of the best decisions I’ve made. There is less “noise”, less stress (it's that Pareto thing where 80% of the stress comes from 20% of the customers...), less hassle, AND our profits are actually higher. It’s not easy to tell our egos that we are shrinking our businesses, but it can be a necessary exercise to save our businesses. So be honest about what you are putting up with. And whether each part of your business, each client, each partner, each relationship is worth what you are investing in it. Sometimes the answer will be “yes” (horrah!), but if it’s a “no” then don’t be precious about letting it go. Sometimes one of the best things you can do is "fire" your customers or excise the extra. See you next week for my final two Lessons. Last week I shared with you the first two of my Lessons Learned in 2021. It was great to hear from some of you about how you are doing pulling together your own list, so keep it up (and please keep sharing!).
Here are this week's installment from my own list: Lesson 3: Make time for the things that fuel your soul - I find that so often when we set goals and aspirations for ourselves, we can do so by forgetting about the other “stuff”. We grind and work and burn the candle at both ends and obsess over monetizing things and hack at ourselves with productivity hack after hack. But, my dear readers, there is more to life than doing, doing, doing all the time. And it’s okay to do things for their own sake. Just because you love them. And just for the joy they fill you with. Earlier this year, when I was planning my “income and impact” goals, I consciously chose to NOT monetize everything I was doing. Sure, the money is important (especially after the smackdown COVID laid on most of our businesses!), but so are things other than money (duh!). So I gave myself permission to speak and do workshops just because I love doing them. Without an “upsell”. Without an agenda. Without any metrics or targets or KPIs to guide them. I love sharing what I learn and I love connecting with people. So I did over 24 (!) different workshops just for the fun of it and totally for free. And I loved every minute. I loved preparing, and executing, and fielding questions, and meeting people I wouldn’t have otherwise met. And I let myself enjoy what I enjoy without saddling the joy with justification. Doing what I love and helping other people was justification enough. So think about where you can add more joy into your life. Just because. It doesn’t have to become your full time job, but do make time for it. After all, how we spend our days, is how we spend our lives. Lesson 4: Learn how to be content without being complacent - If the past two years have taught me anything it is this. Sh*t happens. Sometimes really big, bad sh*t happens. But even amidst all of that horrible, stinky, mess, there are so many things to be content about. And the “secret sauce”, I think, to sustainable careers and sane lives is to find a way to be content with where we are and what we have while still maintaining the drive to strive and do more (if we want to!). It’s not easy, but this year in particular, I have started to give myself talking-tos any time I start going down a woe-is-me spiral. Sure, I have had some really tough times and really stressful times and really anxiety-filled times this year. But instead of stewing, I remind (read: force!) myself to think about all the great things going on in my life. And then I remind myself that even though I want to do better, or build more, or have a bigger impact, I have enough now, too. Content, not complacent. It’s a skill worth working on or we will drive ourselves into the ground with frustration and unhappiness. See you again next week! Last week I wrote about how to Capture Your Year, and give yourself the gift of seeing how much you have accomplished and progressed without registering it. As part of that exercise, I suggested you share some of your Lessons Learned with others, and I'm here to take my own advice and share my Lessons Learned with you!
So, sit back and get comfy as we travel back over the year together and I share the first installment of my Top Lessons Learned in 2021: Lesson 1: Keep the faith - This is a big one I learned in lots of different ways this year. Two of my biggest life goals came true this year, one of which was to become a published author. For years and years and years and YEARS I wrote to my heart’s content - sometimes sharing my writing, other times keeping it to myself - always knowing I wanted to do more, and craft a life full of putting pen to paper or finger to keyboard. I didn’t know how I would find a publisher, or how I would reach more readers, I just knew that I wanted it and that I would keep going until “it” happened. And after seven years of consistently writing (and lots of other things too!), all the pieces started to come together. I met people. I pitched myself. I found agents to represent me. And then I got my first big paid writing gig. And then I got a book deal from a major publisher. It didn’t happen by wishing for it. And it took years for it to happen. But all along I never stopped knowing it would happen as long as I didn’t give up. As long as I showed up and did the work. (And guess what? My book is now available for pre-order!) So don’t let the unpredictability of how long things might take scare you from doing. If you want something badly, keep the faith, keep working, keep experimenting, and keep trying. Or, as one of my favorite quotes puts it so perfectly: "Never give up on a dream because of the time it will take to accomplish it. The time will pass anyway." Lesson 2: Think (even) bigger - This lesson is somewhat related to #1, but whatever your goals and dreams and aspirations, it can NEVER hurt to think even bigger (my friend Richard Brown said this perfectly in an article he wrote a few months ago where he talked about 3x-ing his income goal for this year and then making it happen in a few short-but-full-of-hard-work months!). There is no extra “cost” to thinking bigger, so don’t sell yourself short and keep yourself small. When I was thinking about the audiences I wanted to speak in front of, I didn’t limit myself to what I knew was possible or what I had already done. I imagined packed stadiums, and large arenas, and big corporate gatherings. And guess what, that’s what I am doing. It’s not to say “small” is in any way inferior or unworthy, it’s just that being bolder about our ambitions and visions means we start busting through self-imposed limitations and prove to ourselves that anything is possible. Yes, even for us. It’s that thing about shooting for the stars. Even if you “fail”, you’ll still land on the moon. So start seeing where you can think bigger and start surrounding yourself with people who think bigger too. We are so powerfully, if subtly, influenced by the people around us and the thoughts we let in. I've got more of my Lessons Learned coming your way in the weeks ahead, but till then, please take some time to let these first two sink in. Where can you keep the faith and keep going? And where can you think bigger? I'd love to hear about it. I don't know about you, but I love this time of year. It's when the world starts to both pick up and wind down. It’s a great time for reflection and review and that’s why this week I wanted to share with you one of my all time favorite leadership and performance habits: Capturing Your Year.
Now, I hear so many people talk about 2020 like it was a “lost” or “throw away” year. The focus on the fact that COVID robbed many of us of new experiences, change, growth, or variety (not to mention the mental and physical toll). But that is a terrible way to view any amount of time, much less an entire year. Even in the midst of challenge and adversity and upheaval (that sometimes felt like the “same old, same old” every day), we grow and change and progress. It might not be the way we are used to growing or changing or progressing, but I don’t know a single person who is the same in 2021 as they were in 2020. It’s just that they might not have registered the changes or growth or progress concretely. And what a waste that is. What a waste to look at a day, a week, a month, a year and think “Man, I’m glad that’s over.” Sure, there might be things we’d like to forget, but let’s not throw away the proverbial baby with the bath water! No matter what you think of any 365-day period, it’s always worth investing a bit of time to reflect on what has happened. So, as we get towards the end of another year, here’s a step-by-step plan for how you can make the most of all that has happened this year:
So don’t rely on your memory. Join me this November as I sit down to do the same. Crystalize the key lessons and takeaways from your year. Make them concrete by writing them down. And share them (if you want to!) so that others can learn from your generosity and honesty. I’ll be sharing my Lessons Learned in 2021 with you, starting next week, so stay tuned! Almost a decade ago, I was having lunch with a dear friend and we were half-laughing, half-crying about our inner nerds. I was bemoaning my need for “gold stars,” and it was then that my friend said what has stayed with me all these years: “I get it dude, it’s your Lisa Simpson complex. I’m the same.”
Now for the unfamiliar, Lisa Simpson is a cartoon character who is endearingly obsessed with perfection and good grades, with being the archetypal “good girl.” And my friend’s comment has stayed with me all these years because elements of my “Lisa Simpson complex” still infect so many big and small aspects of my life, and it’s something I have to work hard to keep in check. (But her comment also reassured me that there are other “Lisas” out there… maybe you’re one too!) Now, part of me is proud to be meticulous and painstaking about things that are important to me (good grammar, detailed P&Ls, folding my clothes just-so… you have to have standards, so they may as well be good ones!), but part of me also recognizes that there’s a reason “pain” is 36% of the word “painstaking,” because too much Lisa Simpson is no good. It is painful. And it can be destructive. And it can give too much power to people or things outside our control. And it is only with a lot of practice and the perspective that comes with time (I won't say "age" just yet) that I have finally started letting go just a little bit of my once-near-obsession with getting gold stars and being "perfect" in all aspects of my life. I know I will never NOT care what other people think of me, but I have started to be selective about whose opinion I DO care about (Are they qualified to have an opinion? Have they been in the ring themselves? Or are they just haters raining down popcorn and peanuts from the cheap seats?). I know I will always want some actual or symbolic gold stars, but I have started getting better at giving them to myself. I know there will be times when I look at my businesses or look in the mirror and only see the things that need “fixing,” but I have started getting better at focusing on what is amazing and beautiful, too. As high-achievers, I think sometimes we put so much pressure on ourselves to be everything to everyone and to do it all perfectly, often by a standard of perfection or performance that someone else has given to us. And I get it. Wanting to be “the best” is hardwired into my DNA. One of my favorite stories about my mom goes something like this: When she was around 8 or 9, she came home from school bawling her eyes out, shaking with sadness. Her grandfather – my great-grandfather – rushed out of the house terrified by her distress, and asked her what was wrong. Through sobs and snot, she told him it was because – wait for it…. – she had gotten a 98 out of 100 on her exam! And even as I type this I am smile-crying because god, do I understand her despair. I wish I could transport through time and give the 8-year-old version of my mom a massive hug for feeling those two points so deeply… My friends, this stuff is hard. Being a leader is hard. Achieving big things is hard. Being a human is hard. Having high standards is hard. But it is also sometimes – maybe more of the times than we realize – made harder by our own doing, by that self-imposed soundtrack nattering in our ears making us forget that a perfect score isn’t the goal, and that what we are doing or have already done is pretty damned great if we would just allow ourselves to see the damned greatness. So, all I’d like to suggest is that from time to time, we let go of those two points and turn the perfection soundtrack off. That we give ourselves credit for how many points we DID get, how many new customers we DID get, how many milestones we HAVE achieved, and to focus less on how far there is still to go. For me and so many us, the trick, the work, is finding the elusive sweet spot between striving and accepting: striving for more and better while accepting where, and who, we currently are. It’s not about becoming complacent, it’s about recognizing that sometimes, even when we do our best, all we’ll get is a painful 98% and a tearful walk home, but our grandfathers will still be there to hug us, and we’ll still go on to have amazing lives full of inner and outer achievements, and maybe one day, sixty years into the future, we’ll have daughters (literal or figurative) who write lovingly about us and admire us for all the times we chose not to give up, not to stop, not to throw everything away even when we were less than perfect. And it’s about recognizing – as my great-grandfather said to my mother all those years ago – that sometimes those two points aren’t ours to have, anyway. Sometimes 98 is our perfect score. And that really is perfect enough. I was standing in front of my closet the other day packing for a work trip when out of the corner of my eye I caught sight of a hideously ugly dress that made me smile and then laugh hysterically.
The dress in question is extra-wide A-line with poofy white sleeves, life-sized faces of strangers covering the front and back, and has two large slits near the neck for a harness. Oh, and it's made of made of neoprene. Now before you question my sanity - or lifestyle choices - for owning a dress that comes with a harness, let me hasten to explain that it was the dress I wore for the Opening Ceremony of the London 2012 Olympics. The ugliness of that dress makes it all the more endearing, because from so much ugly came so much beauty: I became friends with three amazing creatives who were fellow volunteers, and am still close friends with them now. And I got to be a part of a once-in-a-lifetime event in an up-close-and-personal way. I mean when else was I going to be in a world-class sports stadium rubbing elbows with world-class athletes? Being a volunteer for the London 2012 opening and closing ceremonies was one of the best adventures of my life. And I spent that summer eating horrible boxed lunches (cheese sandwiches, Pringles, and Nature Valley bars EVERY DAY for two months) instead of doing the "smart" thing for my career, which would have been to get an internship with a top-tier consulting firm (I was an MBA student at the time). But I didn't choose "smart" that summer, I consciously chose adventure. Because one of the guiding principles I try to live my life by is to always say yes to adventure. My friends, life gets shorter each day, and as high-achievers with big ambitions, we can get so consumed with achieving and doing and growing and learning and accolade-collecting that sometimes we forget about fun. Sometimes we forget that we need work AND play (even when work already feels like play). And sometimes we forget that adventure can come around every day if we are open to seeing it. I'm not advocating hedonism or the mindless pursuit of new-ness or throwing responsibility to the wind. What I am encouraging is that we at least consider saying yes the next time adventure comes by our door. It might come in the guise of a new business venture. Or a book idea. Or a trip to Nashville. Or a walk around that museum we pass everyday. Or confessing to someone how we truly feel about them (good or bad!). Or having a conversation with a total stranger who strikes us as interesting. Going on an adventure isn't about bungee jumping and sky diving; it's about finding the thrilling aspects of the things we encounter every day and letting ourselves be thrilled by them. It's about (at least sometimes) choosing joy over ROI. About saying yes sometimes when we might otherwise have said no. And for me, it's also about living the type of life that will take me on all the physical, emotional, and mental highs and lows I can cram into my brief time on this amazing planet. So, as you look to the week ahead, and the weekend, and next month, and next year, what adventure will you say yes to? What adventure will you allow into your life that will stretch you, grow you, nurture you, or simply make you smile, then laugh, when you look in your closet of life? I'd love to hear all about it. Before I started my first business, I had an exciting career in the intelligence services. I worked with some of the most brilliant people I will ever know, got to do some really meaningful work, and lived in parts of the world that I would never have seen otherwise.
Early in that career, I was one-third of a team that designed and led a project that was going to be delivered to some very high-level officials. And when it came time to choose the team who would brief these officials, a supervisor a few levels above me decided that at 27 I was too young, so sent someone more senior (though less qualified) in my place. I was devastated. And for the longest time I took it personally. I interpreted it as another injustice in a line of injustices that had robbed me of well-deserved accolades and hard-worked-for opportunities that meant so very much to me. And I carried an element of I-won't-get-what-I-deserve-so-what's-the-point-in-trying-anyway defeatism deep within me for years. But the thing I realized with time and distance, is that how we interpret what happens to us is entirely up to us. And things can mean everything or nothing or something in between depending on the story we choose to tell ourselves. That missed opportunity with those officials? I took it as another example of what I saw as a pattern of robbed rewards. But I could so easily have looked at it in a less-charged way: as just one data point of how the world works, but a data point that had nothing to do with me and nothing to do with my deservedness. My friends, in our businesses and in our lives, so many things will go "wrong" or turn out in ways that take no notice of our best efforts. Investors will act like jerks. Co-founders will suddenly get selfish. Product launches will fail. Suppliers will ignore us. Team members will abuse the responsibility we entrust them with. And reality will take liberties with our timescales and targets. But how we internalize or interpret each of these things is entirely up to us. We can view them for what they often are (just a normal part of business) or as an indication of personal unworthiness or a "fated" failing. I'm not saying that we become delusional in the face of negative feedback or that we absolve ourselves of responsibility for what happens. What I am saying is that we take ultimate responsibility for how we interpret those things and that we choose carefully how we respond - externally and emotionally - when "bad" things happen. Not everything means what we think it means. And sometimes $hit just happens, whether we "deserve" it or not. We get to decide what things mean. We get to pick up - or leave on the floor - the damaging interpretations that will keep us and our businesses small. And we get to choose how we internalize - or not - everything that happens as we take our businesses and ourselves to the heights we know we can achieve. For most of my adult life, anytime I set myself a target or wanted to grow my business, I threw hours at the problem. I figured if I worked hard enough and long enough that anything I wanted to do would get done.
And to some extent I was right. There is a positive correlation (albeit one that gets looser under investigation) between hours and output. But it took a phone call with a friend and fellow entrepreneur to illuminate the industrial-era fallacy behind "working harder". More often than not, we don't need to work harder and more, but smarter and less. Now, many of us can probably recall times when we have been grinding out work and burning the candle at both ends and running on fumes and [insert-hard-work-metaphor-here], because we think we have to, or our work culture dictates that we do, or we don't know another way. But the thing is, that hours-for-output mentality doesn't make sense anymore. Sure, in the industrial era there was a direct and necessary relationship between the number of hours input and the number of widgets produced. If you wanted to make more things, you had to put in more hours to make those things. And we got so used to trading hours for output that even when our economy evolved, our way of working stayed the same. We tried to pretend that what served us in the 1800s would continue to serve us now. But it doesn't. Many of us are not in the business of making actual things. Most of us operate in a service-based or knowledge-based environment, but we still cling to old ways of working that are actively counterproductive and a colossal waste of time and effort. And even those of us who do make things do so under vastly different conditions to what existed in the Industrial Age. For example, "face time" in the office tells us we "should" arrive at a certain time and "should" leave at a certain time, regardless of how productive we are in between. Most people (I would venture to guess) end up padding their day with coffee breaks, chit-chat, scrolling through social media, busy work, whatever they need to do to be visible for long enough until the boss goes home. What a wasteful charade. Or those 100-hour weeks that are the expected norm in a lot of companies? They're often counterproductive and dangerous. There are measurable and diminishing returns to working that long for any sustained period. Our minds simply can not and will not function optimally without rest, and our performance will suffer and accidents will happen. And yet we continue to think we need to do more, more, more, more and work longer, longer, longer, longer to achieve. But what if instead, we worked less? What if we chose to prize working smarter over working harder? In the 21st Century, in the service- and knowledge-based industries in which most of us operate, the industrial approach to work simply doesn't make sense. And to create sustainable businesses - that we can live long enough to sustain! - we need to escape our industrial era mindset. I am not saying we should be lazy or slow, but that we are thoughtful about the work we do and that we question why we are doing what we are doing, and that we always ask ourselves if there is an easier, better, simpler way, or if we are just creating work to justify our salaries and assuage the industrialist lurking inside. I don't know about you, but at some point every day I find myself feeling bad about where I'm not. It might just be that I have an over-developed sense of guilt (I mean I went to Catholic school for 13 years and come from a big Indian family, so the combo turns normal guilt trips into epic guilt pilgrimages) or it might just be that I always feel pulled in too many directions.
When I'm working, I worry that I'm not spending enough time nurturing my personal relationships and when I'm spending time with people I love, I worry that I should be doing something for my businesses and when I'm working diligently on my businesses, I worry that I'm not investing enough time on my health and fitness. It's a no-win situation that can drive anyone crazy. And I remember clearly the day a few years ago when I was going down a spiral of "I should be here, no I should be there, no wait, I NEED to be way over there..." and a really wise friend - who is a successful, seemingly non-stressed business owner (who travels all the time for her business) AND is a mom of three - gave me the best advice I have gotten for my business and my life in general: Make a decision and then own it. Now this little bit of advice might look obvious - and often the best advice is - but the profundity (now there's a big word for a Sunday morning!) lies precisely in its simplicity. And I can usually tell how profound advice is by how difficult it is for me to implement. In this case, it's that much harder because there are two parts: 1) making the decision, and 2) owning it. I find that as I've practiced and gotten better at 1 (Get Good at Being Decisive), I've really needed to up my game when it comes to 2. And damnnnnnnnnnnn, is it hard. Not because I abdicate responsibility for my decisions, but because with every decision I make, there is a trade-off, and in my heart of hearts I am an unrepentant maximalist so I hate that I can't have it all, be everywhere, do all the things, and be everything to everyone all at the same time. Trade-offs suck, but the grown-up (and homo economicus... gosh, I am being really nerdy today!) in me knows that trade-offs are inescapable. And it's only with time and practice and catching myself that I've gotten better at accepting that truth and being truly present wherever I am instead of agonizing about where I'm not. Because the thing is, once we make a decision, that should mean we have already considered the relevant facts beforehand. That should mean we have done our best to make the best decision with the circumstances we are given. And that should then mean that it is easier to own the decision - trade-offs and all - and move on. So now, whenever I am traveling to grow my business or spending evenings giving talks or writing on the weekends, I TRY to be fully present and focus on delivering the best talk, having the best meeting, writing the best chapter I can, and leave everything else where it is. And then when I am with my family, I TRY to focus fully on them, on what we are doing in the moment, and leave my phone and all of the things on my never-ending to-accomplish list physically and mentally out of the way. It's not easy, but I try as best I can. And I firmly believe (know!) that we are not compartmented people, despite what we tell ourselves, and we take everything with us wherever we go. But the key is not to let guilt come there with us too, because it will consume us AND the fun and success we could otherwise be experiencing if we hadn't invited guilt to the party. I get it. Like I said, I struggle with this on a near-daily basis. And there are no hacks that I've uncovered other than practice. So, the next time you start wishing you were somewhere else or feel guilty about where you are not, remind yourself that you decided to be wherever you are and then practice owning that decision. It will make being a grown-up, a boss, a business-owner, a leader, a parent, a partner, and a person that much easier AND will be a reminder that choice is a gift we shouldn't always spoil by wishing we had made a different one. Summer may already seem like a figment of our imaginations, but I gotta say, I love the “back to school” energy of September.
Around this time each year, I find myself bursting with new ideas, itching to do all the things, and craving stuff to do and places to go. BUT, I also recognize that while so much of success and progress depends on what we do, as much depends on what we don’t do. So on this fine September Sunday, I thought I’d share some essentials on what we can all stop, avoid, prevent, let go of, and kick to the curb. Essential Don’t # 1 - Don't hide behind "perfectionism" I get it. We love to be in control. We love to get things done. We love having things done our way. And we are really, really, really good at some things, maybe even a lot of things. But too often, self-proclaimed perfectionism is just anxiety in disguise. "It has to be perfect or people will never buy it"; "No one will execute my vision as perfectly as I can"; "If I don't do it, it won't ever get done"; etc, etc, etc. But the thing is, done is better than perfect. Trying is better than worrying. An imperfect business is better than one that stays in your head. Get something out there and then improve, iterate, and - dare I say - perfect it later. Essential Don’t #2 - Don’t shy away from asking for what you want Whether we admit it or not, we all have standards and expectations and preferences for the way we want things to be done. It doesn't matter if someone else thinks it's stupid or over the top or irrelevant because no one else can tell us what we care about. And that's why it's so important, in life and in business, to ask for what you want. We wouldn't go to a coffee shop and expect the barista to know what we wanted without telling her (well, unless you're a regular and always order the same thing...), so why do we do that with our partners, our clients, our suppliers, or our colleagues? Why not just communicate what we want, exactly how we want it, and take the guesswork out of it? Why not be specific about when certain instructions are must-haves and when others can be executed within general parameters? It doesn't mean we'll always get what we want, but at least it leaves no room for mis-interpretation. And when we communicate what we want and are specific about it, it frees the people in our lives from the stress of not knowing and makes it easier for them to succeed. Essential Don’t #3 - Don't Always Listen to Your Customer There’s that great Henry Ford quote: “If I had asked my customers what they wanted, they would have said a faster horse.” And that is true for all of us. Sometimes a customer doesn't know what they want until you show it to them. And sometimes what they want is not part of your plan for your business. You can only offer what you can offer. Now, I'm not saying we should ignore our customers or pretend like their suggestions or requests are irrelevant. What I am saying is that we should work hard to make our service or product as good as possible, hold ourselves to really high standards in how we deliver it, commit to always improving, listen to feedback and requests, and then filter the feedback and requests. Some ideas might be worth considering, others might not. A request is not an order. Feedback is not a command. You don't always have to listen to your customer. And sometimes when they ask for a horse, you have to give them a Model T instead. I don't know about you, but there are days - especially in the lazy days of summer! - when I really struggle. It'll be approaching 4-o'clock and I'll be wondering where the time has gone and what I have to show for close to a day's work (and then panic at the thought that I only have a few hours left to "catch up" before my daughters get back from nursery).
There are times when I feel so swamped and buried in the "stuff" that I am terrified that I'm not actually moving forward in any meaningful way, and wonder if I am doing enough. And it's during these moments of (mini) crises that I go back to my data. See, a while ago (7 years to be exact), I got sick of wondering and wanted to know. I remembered a fantastic New York Times article (I highly recommend reading) that talked about the data-driven life. So I started to track my stats. I set myself daily, weekly, and quarterly targets and then tracked how I was using my time against those targets (in the early days, I used Excel, now I use Toggl and can't recommend it enough). And doing so changed everything. It gave me a concrete and objective picture of where my time was actually being invested. I could look back at a day, a week, a year, and see exact percentages and numbers of minutes being invested in business development, marketing, speaking, admin, etc. And I could use those stats to hold myself accountable against the targets I had set. Simple and powerful. And most important: objective. Because, the thing is, we are often the worst at assessing ourselves. And we often get it wrong when we are guesstimating or appraising off the top of our heads. We suffer from recency bias. And availability bias. And self-preservation bias. We judge our performance based on what has just happened, what we can recall (and we forget a LOT), and we tell ourselves stories to make ourselves feel better ("I have been working soooooo hard and soooooo much!"). But the reality is often different to what we imagine. When I started objectively measuring what I was doing each day, what I learned surprised me. It still does. In some instances, I was way ahead of my game (a few years ago, I was having a really bad week so wanted to see where I was going off track... and you know what? I wasn't off track at all. I had hit 50% of my targets for the YEAR by May!). And in other cases, I was doing far less than I thought (when I was starting my first business, I was making shockingly fewer calls to partners and clients than I thought I was. No wonder things weren't moving as quickly as I wanted back then). The data changes everything: practically, emotionally, and energetically. When we are ahead, wouldn't it be great to know that? We can breathe a little easier, we can stop stressing (a bit) about how much always needs to be done, and we can maybe even celebrate our successes or pat ourselves on the back (crazy, I know!). And when we are behind, isn't the data morale boosting in a counterintuitive way too? If we aren't seeing progress, isn't it better to use the data to tell us whether that's because we're not investing enough time on the important things or if it's because we're spending too much time on "low value" things? Isn't it better to know if the flaw is with the process or with the execution? The data gives you answers. The data helps uncover solutions. And the data makes it easier to know, instead of guess. Business and success and growth don't happen by guesswork. And that's the beauty of the data-driven life: you swap the confusion of wondering with the power of knowing. And knowing is half the battle. We've all heard the saying "A penny saved is a penny earned", but in my family, my mom often reminded us that "A penny saved is two pennies earned..." What she meant by that, I think, was that earning is the hard part so saving what we earn and being smart about how we spend/invest it is worth twice as much as simply earning more. (She may also have been thinking about pre-tax and post-tax money, but I never clarified!)
And I think of that Patel-family wisdom often, especially whenever I am looking to grow, introduce something new, or "do big things" in my businesses. Because it's so easy to chase after shiny new-ness for shiny new-ness's sake, but I've found that it's usually better to focus on protecting what I already have before I go looking for more. Now as business owners, we all know that it takes money to make money. There's no escaping that. But there is a difference between spending money (throwing it at something new for new-ness's sake, for example) and investing it (protecting what you already have). The trouble is far too many people do the former instead of the latter. When was the last time you sat down with your P&Ls and looked at where your money was being spent or invested? When was the last time you looked carefully at all of the big and small costs and worked hard to eliminate the unnecessary or negotiate the price of the essential? When was the last time you reviewed your prices? Or chased up missed payments? Or went to the bank to cash that check sitting on your desk? Or simply decided NOT to throw money at a problem and think about a better solution instead? I get it. There is always so much to do and there are so many pulls on our time and attention and energy, but if we're not careful, we can start to take our business for granted and neglect the important things. As in all relationships, our relationship with our business and our money and our customers needs to be nurtured and attended to ALL THE TIME or it will suffer. Protecting what we already have means closing the door on Neglect's smug little face. Neglect wants you to think it's okay not to review your financial statements because that's what your accountant or bookkeeper is paid to do. Neglect wants you to think new customers are sexy and seductive unlike your boring old customers at home. Neglect whispers oh so sweetly in your ear about expansion and growth and new-ness that your body tingles at the thought... But what Neglect fails to confide while slowly courting your business brain is how potentially deflating and expensive and fruitless all of his advice could be! (Who put Neglect on your Board of Advisors anyway?) When I sat down and regularly started reviewing my costs and P&Ls, my profits almost literally exploded. Because I am committed to keeping my existing clients happy, they are great brand ambassadors who stay with me for years. And due to the focus I put on treating my suppliers like equals and partners, I get priority service in return. All of these things took time and effort, sure, but it is time and effort invested, not spent, in protecting what I already have. I front-loaded the hard work of building a business, getting customers, establishing great service delivery mechanisms, finding reliable suppliers, and building relationships and consistently told Neglect to hit the road. So the next time you find yourself itching to run a new marketing campaign to get more customers, or reaching for the phone to buy a new asset because the old one just won't do, or strategizing how to do more, more, more in your business, stop yourself and consider whether you could do more with what you already have (make more profit from the income you already have, offer more to the customers you already have...) and whether your business wouldn't be better off if you did. Less sometimes really is more. And protecting what you already have is often the best, smartest, and easiest thing to do. Back in 2014, I remember hearing a speaker talk about how, when he was first getting started with his business, he bought a load of empty binders to remind him of how many clients he wanted to have.
Every time he saw those binders, it subtly prompted him to get going (or keep going) with everything he knew he needed to do to start and grow his business. I loved the idea (and the "woo-woo" behind it) so off to Staples I went. Now, I am not naturally prone to superstition or woo-woo (and I definitely wasn't back then), but the thing with the binders made sense to both my left and right brains. It was the perfect combination of practical and philosophical. Because it wasn't as if the speaker was expecting the binders to fill themselves with new client details. And neither was I. But having something concrete and visual to represent my targets prodded, reminded, and nudged me forward each day. And as I've gotten into the habit of setting goals and targets and then diligently making them happen (I'm at a 100% completion rate after years of learning how to properly set goals and execute on them; there is an art and a science to it), I've realized that some of the "magic" behind those empty binders was that they were, well, empty. I had created a void. And nature abhors a void. And what I've realized is that whenever we want to bring anything into our lives - better health, deeper relationships, more knowledge, bigger business, anything - we have to make room for it, mentally and physically. We have to create a void so it can then be filled, ideally with something, or someone, better. Saying no to a dinner invitation creates a void we can fill with learning about something we care about. Spending less time with people who drain us creates a void we can fill by spending more time with people who fuel us. Opening up a new savings account creates a void we can fill by putting some money away each month as we've always been wanting to do. It's not technically "magic" but it can feel magical. Because when we create space in our lives for the things that are important to us, when we declutter the thoughts, relationships, and activities that no longer serve us, amazing things can come in to take their place. We just have to guard the gates and make sure we fill the void with things that are worthy of it, and that are worthy of us. Back in the early days of starting my business, I remember having some ugly moments. I would find myself looking around at the other entrepreneurs I knew and wishing for a piece of their action. There always seemed to be someone else doing more, making more, and achieving more than I was. And when I wasn't careful, those comparisons would deflate me and cause me to wonder if I should just give up and throw in the towel.
Maybe you've felt that way, too? Maybe you've watched friends, colleagues, family members, anyone else do or achieve something you wanted to and started to hate them for it (even if you never tried)? Success can feel hard, and when you're climbing up a hill, it's so easy to look at others and think of how much easier/better/luckier they have it, and then to want some of that for yourself too. But from the time we are born, we are never told how to handle jealousy. We're never given the tools to manage it responsibly. But like so many things in life, jealously doesn't have to be bad. It's just a feeling. And it's what we do with that feeling that makes it "good" or "bad." When I was in my jealous-woes all those years ago, my partner said to me: "It's normal to be jealous, but don't leave it at that. What can you learn from their success that will help you create success for yourself?" And just like that, I was given a formula to turn something ugly and destructive into something productive and helpful. Jealousy is okay. We don't have to wallow in despair and self-pity when we see others being successful. We don't have to see their success as a reason to give up on our own. (There is enough success out there for all of us). We don't have to quit just because someone else already did what we want to do. And we don't have to stop just because someone else is ahead of us. We can choose to be inspired instead of jealous. We can choose to open up instead of shut down. We can choose to see a role model instead of a rival. And most important, we can choose to use our envy to fuel us and drive us instead of stopping us in our tracks. It's not easy, but it can be that simple. We can use our envy for good. Over the weekend, I found myself getting really irritated as my husband was reading "The Ugly Duckling" to our daughter. I've never realized it before, but that popular children's tale is based on a totally false premise. The only reason the duckling is considered "ugly" is because it is being held to the wrong standard: it's being judged as a duck when it's really a swan.
Now this might seem like a forgivable literary contrivance (and I do like the soft revenge element at the end when the creature that was once teased and taunted suddenly becomes valued and vaunted), but when we do the same thing in our lives and businesses, it's less easy to dismiss. Standards have impact (just ask the poor swan who was bullied and rejected for being un-duck-like), and sometimes, maybe often-times, we use the wrong ones. I have lost track of the number of times I've judged myself based on an irrelevant or inappropriate metric. I've gotten dismayed about my business performance in Year X by comparing it to a far more developed business enjoying the success of Year Y. I've gotten despondent about my strength and muscle tone by comparing it to that of elite athletes working full time on their fitness. I've looked at any number of things going on in my business and had to fight the urge to compare it to someone else, something else, that is just different. My swan to their duck. But as we build and grow our businesses and craft lives of our own design, we have to be diligent against irrelevant standards. We have to make sure that any comparisons are appropriate (ducks with ducks, swans with swans, and all that). And then, perhaps, we have to let it all go anyway and find ways to judge ourselves by our own standards, our own values, and our own metrics for success. There's a great scene in the movie Office Space, where the secretary is needling the main character for not being chirpier as he drags himself into the office. "Looks like somebody's got a case of the Mondays," she says, not knowing he has just battled stop-and-go traffic, ducked-and-dived to avoid seeing his slimy boss, and skulked into his cubicle only to be interrupted by the sound of an annoying colleague on the phone. (It's a hysterical film, and I highly recommend it for some silly Sunday fun.)
I love that case-of-the-Mondays quote because it captures so succinctly the feeling that so many of us have at the beginning of the week. And even now, eight-plus years into being my own boss, Mondays can sometimes fill me with dread at all the stuff I have to do. But one of the magic tricks that I picked up years ago that has helped me cope better with that "Monday" feeling is this: reframing all of the things I feel I have to do, into things that I get to do. It's a small mental shift, but it can have a powerful effect on how we perceive the day, week, and tasks ahead. Because it reminds us that we are lucky, even if only in a small way, to have the opportunity and the ability to do the things we do. I don't HAVE to review my P&Ls, I GET to review them because I am in the happy position of being a director of two successful businesses and have a powerful brain that enables me to decipher numbers. I don't HAVE to take my daughters to nursery, I GET to walk them there because I am the lucky parent of two amazing children and have a healthy, functioning body that enables me to walk fast while pushing a stroller. I don't HAVE to get back in touch with a corporate client, I GET to email them because I have worked hard to develop the strong reputation I have, and others want to work with me. Do you see how the energy changes almost immediately? Very quickly we can go from feeling put upon and burdened to feeling lucky and energized. That's the power of what we "get" to do. This may not work every time, but it has a pretty good track record, and is a quick and easy way to change the way we feel about what's ahead of us. Little shifts like this, little energy boosts, little mental reframings, they all add up over the course of a day, a week, a lifetime, and before we know it, we've become do-ers instead of complainers, activated instead of deadened. So the next time we catch ourselves dragging our feet, hitting the snooze, moaning about what we have to do, let's remind ourselves that we get to do it, too. And not everyone is so lucky. When I was 12, I was desperate to be a supermodel. I remember reading in Seventeen Magazine that Nikki Taylor had been discovered while she was waiting at an airport, so for years after that, every time I flew, I would get breathless with desperation for some talent scout to pluck me from the traveling masses and plaster my face on billboards and magazines. (Thankfully - and no disrespect to supermodels - my older sister reminded me that I have a powerful brain and should do something more meaningful with my life. Phew!)
But that idea that I had to "be discovered" stuck with me. I wasted a good few years of my life, even as an adult, waiting to be chosen, wishing for recognition, waiting for nominations, and wishing for accolades. And I wasted even more of my life feeling deflated when they never came. What an idiot. Because what I realized with time and experience, is that the world doesn't work that way. We are led to believe that if we are good at something or have something to offer or create something worth sharing, that others will magically find out about it and find out about us. "If you build it, they will come" and all that. But that's utter nonsense. A lot of the time, the people on things like Forbes' lists get on those lists because they apply to be on them. A lot of the time, the companies that win awards are the ones that put themselves forward for the awards. A lot of the time, the speakers who deliver key notes at conferences are the ones who pitch themselves as speakers. They're not discovered. They do the work and give themselves a chance, instead of relying on chance. If I had really wanted to be a supermodel all those decades ago, I should have gotten a headshot, gone to auditions, threw my hat in the ring and done the work - and kept doing it and kept auditioning - instead of being passive-depressive about it. Because as wonderful as we all may be and as much as we all may do, no one else is keeping track. No one is tallying all the amazing things we accomplish. No one is talking about our many wonderful ways of giving back. And they (almost) never will. For example, over the past few years, I have volunteered 800 (yes, 800) hours of my time to my alma mater through free mentoring, coaching, and workshops. Is anyone chasing after me with a medal for my service? Is anyone nominating me for some sort of recognition? No, and no. But, if there is ever an opportunity to nominate myself, will I do so? Yes. And, of course. Does that make me a self-promoting jackass? No. Because I did the work. I volunteered the hours. I didn't do it so I could get recognition, but if the opportunity to be recognized arises, then I'm going to recognize myself for how much I contributed and put myself forward. That's what we all need to do. If you did the work, apply for the award. If you meet the requirements, put yourself forward. If you lived the experience, pitch for the story. If you have the product, ask people to buy it. There is nothing holy about obscurity. There is nothing holy about anonymity. And there is nothing unholy about not staying obscure or anonymous. Put yourself forward. Put yourself out there. Put yourself in the race. It doesn't mean you will always get what you want. But trying sure as hell beats waiting for someone else to discover what is wonderful about you or your business when you already know it is there. Over this long COVID period, many of us have gotten used to multi-tasking. We've made endless snacks while hosting conference calls. Taken Zoom with us into our bathrooms (yeah, you know you did!). Worked on product pitches while perfecting our Disney-song pitch. Typed up emails while spending "quality" time with our loved ones.
And while multi-tasking was one of our biggest allies during COVID, I think it's important to remember that it's really an enemy wearing a very friendly smile. Now, I get it. We all wear many hats and sometimes all those hats are screaming to be put on at the same time. But if we are honest with ourselves, can we really say we got 10 things done to the same quality as if we had done each one of those things in turn? And did we really need to do those 10 things all at once anyway? For me, I know the answer is no. Because there is a massive difference between multi-tasking and making efficient use of our time. When I take an honest assessment of the times I have been a multi-tasking fool, I find it's most dangerous when I am trying to do something business-critical but allow myself to get pulled into the low value tasks just to get them out of the way. In my attempt to declutter my to-do list of the mundane, I end diluting or prolonging the important. And that's why multi-tasking is a false economy. We delude ourselves into thinking we are getting a lot done, instead of appreciating we're just doing a lot. And doing isn't the same as accomplishing. In our crazy go-go-go world, we have lost sight of the importance of true focus. In our endless impatience to get to the end, we have confused quantity with quality. On this crazy English day, when even the weather seems to be multi-tasking, all I am suggesting is that we get real about the false economy of multi-tasking and try to unitask instead. And when that multi-tasking siren starts tempting us towards distraction and ruin, let's at least try to steer her to the low value things (brushing while showering, ordering groceries while walking, making social plans while cooking...) and harness our best and our focus for our most important work instead. Just a few hours ago, my family and I were sitting down for our traditional Sunday breakfast of pancakes, waffles, and smoothies. Our toddler kept running off to play with her Legos, and I kept trying to entice her back to the table, chasing her around the room with a fork full of food.
Finally, I resorted to the tried-and-true nuclear option: I told her that if she didn't come eat her food right now, then her father would eat it all up instead. And as the words were coming out of my mouth I caught myself. What the hell was I teaching our daughter? That we should only want something so that someone else can't have it? That even breakfast is a zero-sum game? That someone else's gain will always mean her loss? That she has to compete with her father for food? WTF? For so much of our lives we are given messages like this. Lack. Scarcity. Competition. Winner take all. Zero-sum. Only room for one. Someone else has already done it so don't bother. And sometimes, without realizing it or wanting to, we send the same messages back out. But the world isn't like this. And we need to stop living under a scarcity mindset. Sure, there are some things that are genuinely scarce: the element astatine (yes, I Googled that), opportunities to walk on the moon, endangered animals like pikas (Googled that too), and women at the top of pretty much every field you can think of. But many, many other things are not. And it's only once we start having a more abundant mindset that we will see that one person's success doesn't predetermine our stasis, that one person's beauty doesn't diminish our own, that one person's financial gain doesn't mean our poverty, and that one person's critical acclaim doesn't deem us unworthy. In pretty much every aspect of our lives we constrain ourselves with our scarcity mindset, when what we really need to do is start thinking more abundantly. To do away with "All the clients are gone" "All the good partners are already taken" "All the positions I want are filled" "All the art has already been created", and start thinking "Where can I find the right clients for my unique offering?" "Where can I find a partner who will bring out the best in me?" "How can I expand my job search to find a perfect fit?" "How can I create art that is different or unique?" (Spoiler alert: everything you do will be unique because there is no other you out there.) Do you see how the the first is a set of statements, declarative and fixed, that focus our minds on scarcity and lack? And do you see how the second is a set of questions, open-ended and expansive, that challenge our minds to think creatively and abundantly? What a huge difference. So the next time you find yourself saying or doing something from a place of lack or limitation, and telling yourself that you can't be/do/have something because someone else already is/does/has that thing, then please, please, please remind yourself that the world is full of pancakes, metaphoric and actual. And if someone has already eaten the stack you thought was supposed to be yours, you can always make more and make them your own. I have never been the type of person who enjoys exercise for its own sake. Now, don't get me wrong. I love being strong. I love pushing myself physically. And man do I love to sweat. BUT, I have always struggled with workout routines because I much prefer exercise to be incidental (like from dancing) or functional (like training for sports) or me-against-the-course (like competing in Tough Mudder), than for it to be something I just do.
Because boredom is the fastest way for me to quit something - and I don't want to quit on my health - I'm always on the look out for ways to keep exercise interesting for me. So when my personal trainer posted a challenge to do 500 skips (ie, jumping rope) every day in May, I was all in. And the sheer satisfaction I get from doing it, the mental anguish I feel until I complete it, and the thrill I get from ticking it off my list got me thinking. In so many ways, I prefer to live and work the way I eat: tapas-style. I like to have a little of a lot. I get bored easily. (And damn, do I get food envy!) And I need visual, physical, and mental variety. Everything that I have ever been consistent with in my life has scratched this itch. But it wasn't until I started jumping rope that I realized how much this is true. My career has always involved multi-functional roles. The businesses I started have me doing lots of different things each day. My schedule is anything but, and varies day by day with predictable unpredictability. If I tried to do the same thing every single day, I would go brain dead. But maybe you're different. Maybe you love consistency. Maybe you love predictability. Maybe you want to know exactly what you will be doing at 8:43pm on Thursday 13 July. And that's okay too. Because once you tune into what YOU need, and what works for YOU, it's important to hack the hell out of it and work it to your advantage in life, work, everything. For the magpie in me, this means doing 500 skips and then doing a ballet class later that day so that exercise stays interesting. It means writing for a few hours and then doing financial analysis later that day so that work stays interesting. It means having yogurt and honey, one piece of toast, coffee, a smoothie, and fruit in the morning instead of a huge bowl of cereal so that nutrition stays interesting. Doing lots of things does NOT mean multi-tasking - which is a terrible waste of time - but it does mean doing a variety of discreet things one-at-a-time to make the most of my personality. And instead of wishing I were different, trying to force myself to be someone I'm not, I'm finding new ways to leverage my tapas-style tendencies so that I stay consistent with the things I want to stay consistent with (exercise, business growth, nutrition). And the reason I'm sharing this, is because if you want to make a positive change, accomplish something important, push yourself higher - and make the change, accomplishment, or growth sustainable over the long-term - you don't have to change who you are, you have to be MORE in line with who you are. If you're a planner, make a plan before you get going. If you're intuitive, tune into your intuition before you get going. If you're a worrier, work through all your worries before you get going. Use who you are as an advantage, instead of as an excuse to stay fused in place. And if I can help you get there - wherever "there" may be - you know where to find me. If you've been with me for a while, you'll know that my husband and I are lucky parents to a toddler and a baby. And while parenting (or life!) is never easy, I've always found the first year with a newborn particularly draining, physically and emotionally.
With our 6-month old, we had been struggling with bad sleep and bleary-eyed days. For almost 3 months, she was waking up 4-6 times a night, and sometimes our toddler would wake up too just to be a part of the action. And all this night waking meant inevitably short-tempered days for all of us and my feeling at my less-than-best. All of the parents around us had been suggesting we sleep train our baby, and after weeks of misery and illogical resistance, we finally gave in and started on a schedule and a let-her-cry-it-out-at-night plan. And ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh my what a difference it has made. In less than a week, she started sleeping through the night, and we are ALL far more human and humane for it. And I realized that this pattern is how so much growth and positive change in life happens: we make it hard for ourselves, despite knowing there are better alternatives, and then when we finally start on a path towards where we want to be, things are really difficult before they get easy. For our newborn, the first few nights of her new routine she cried for almost an hour before falling asleep. And my husband and I would stare at the monitor, our hearts (and our ears!) cringing. But then she cried for shorter bursts, and then shorter, and shorter, until she started sleeping straight through the night. But those first few nights were brutal. And I wanted to run in and comfort her. I wanted to do something, anything to make it stop. But I didn't. And thank goodness for it. Because now we have a much better and a sustainable way of living and sleeping. It was - as my brother so wisely offered - short-term pain for long term-gain. But too often, and for too many of us, we never start - or we quit to soon - precisely because it is so hard in the short-term. I hear this so many times from the solopreneurs in my group mastermind who resist making a new hire or getting some admin support because "it is too hard to train someone new" or "by the time I teach someone else, I could have done it myself." And then they struggle with burnout and wonder why staying "Chief Everything Officer" isn't working. I hear this so many times from the corporate leaders I coach, who resist putting themselves out there to shine because it feels "icky" and "self-promotey" even though they know being more authentically visible will help them achieve their career goals. And then they wonder why they never get noticed for the right reasons and why they feel stuck in professional limbo. And I hear this so many times from the business school students I mentor who are trying to change careers or want to start their own businesses, but are too "scared" to do something new because there is "too much to learn." And then they wonder why they aren't happy when they go back to their previous careers and why they feel deflated and rudderless. And what I share with all of them - and what I re-learned with my baby daughter just a few weeks ago - is that EVERYTHING is hard before it gets easy. That's just how it is. Everything starts out awkward and icky and scary and overwhelming. Everything worth having requires us to get comfortable with discomfort. Everything is hard, hard, so damned hard before it gets a little easier, and a little easier, and easier still until what we once thought impossible or not for us becomes something we simply do. It's like my brother said, it's short-term pain for long-term gain. And we all owe it to ourselves, to our dreams, our ambitions, our businesses, our relationships to do the important hard things now before it's too late. Before we get complacent or bored or deflated. And before the windows of opportunity close. Think about what you are denying yourself because it's too hard. Think about what are you delaying because it feels awkward to start. Think about what you are diminishing because you can't be bothered to put in the effort. And then decide to do it anyway. |
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