Notes

"As a general, Napoleon made it his habit to delay responding to the mail. His secretary was instructed to wait three weeks before opening any correspondence. When he finally did hear what was in a letter, Napoleon loved to note how many supposedly “important” issues had simply resolved themselves and no longer required a reply." (Ryan Holiday, Stillness Is the Key)

I wonder how Napoleon would have handled instant access to his mail every second of every day. Regardless, he was on to something with snail mail.

It is way too easy these days, and I guess two centuries ago too, to prioritize everything. Sometimes I think we do it because we want to be the hero. We want to come in and resolve every problem. The thing is that when we do that, there is no priority, and no one learns.

Not long ago, a client was emailing a member of our team late at night. The person did not see the back-to-back emails until it was just about bedtime. Unsure how to respond at that hour, they waited until morning.

At the start of the next day, they got in touch with the client for a call. The client immediately apologized for the late-night messages, embarrassed by their behavior. The issue turned out to be a misunderstanding.

I cannot help but think that had the team member seen the emails earlier and responded, the heat of the moment would have been explosive, dominating the evening and making a mountain out of a molehill.

Some issues do require our immediate attention, but more often than not, it pays to be selective.

I remember inviting a classmate to my house to "jam" with me in middle school. He'd play piano while I sang and played guitar. I was looking for more people to perform music with and heard that he was quite good.

Despite being a talented pianist, classically trained through childhood, he could not keep up. There I was, self-taught, jamming away, not even sure what key I was playing in while he sat there trying to make sense of every note. Unfortunately, I had no sheet music to guide him.

On paper, he was brilliant. In practice, it was not a good fit. As he packed up to head home that day, I remember thinking that I should have talked to him about what I imagined our session to be like rather than making assumptions about his background.

Whether it's adding a new member to your band or a new project manager to your team, who is the right hire?

Someone with the perfect skillset?
Someone with the right experience?

The right hire for you may not be the right hire for me, but does that make the candidate any less qualified for the job?

Imagine choosing a spouse or friend based on the skills you think they'll bring to the table or their track record with past relationships. While these areas may get surfaced early on in one way or another, they are not enough, on their own, to determine the future of the relationship.

You know you've found the right hire because you can feel it in your gut.

Maybe they don't have the perfect skillset.
Maybe their experience isn't what you'd expect.

Portfolios, resumes, tests, and personality assessments may help you feel better about that feeling, but when you know, you know. And more often than not, when you don't know, but let what's on paper tell you otherwise, you end up wishing you hadn't.

Tonight, I embarked on a piece that took me on a several-hour journey, much longer than expected. It has been some time since I've gotten lost like that. I can remember writing music in my dorm room until the wee hours of the morning, sitting on the bathroom floor strumming my sunburst acoustic guitar, singing softly to myself. You always wonder if what you're creating will be as exciting to you in the morning.

Part of me loves those moments of discovery, while the other part of me loves my sleep.

This weekend, I was out with family for a bike ride and decided to turn a leisurely ride into a workout using the Tabata training method.

Tabata training is a high-intensity interval training (HIIT) workout program invented by scientist Dr. Izumi Tabata in the 1990s. It is one of my favorite ways to get in a workout while traveling or when I'm looking for an efficient method for getting my heart rate up. Tabata training is simple:

1. Pick just about any form of exercise (biking, running, push-ups, sit-ups, dumbbell curls, jump rope).
2. Practice that movement at full capacity for 20 seconds.
3. Take 10 seconds of rest.
4. Repeat steps 2 & 3 for 8 rounds, a total of 4 minutes.

You can make any workout longer by stacking Tabatas with different movements. For example, a simple and tough 20-minute bodyweight workout could look like this:

• 00:00-04:00 - Tabata #1: Push-Ups
• 04:00-08:00 - Tabata #2: Air Squats
• 08:00-12:00 - Tabata #3: Sit-Ups
• 12:00 -16:00 - Tabata #4: Burpees
• 16:00 -20:00 - Tabata #5: Jumping Jacks

Note: You can add optional rest time but only between Tabatas. Try to keep it under 30 seconds!

If you don't have 20 minutes to spare, keep scaling it down. I know we all have four. Regardless of how long you workout, don't forget to get a stretch in before you get started.

Wondering how to track the time? There's plenty of options that don't require you to count in your head or doing "math." My favorite Tabata timer so far is this one. There are apps, too, but I love the simplicity of this timer on desktop and mobile. Yes, it was loudly screaming 3-2-1 from pant pocket while biking this weekend. Tested and approved.

Happy Tabata-ing.

Call it a healthy habit, a daily/weekly/monthly ritual, or a routine; whatever it may be, structure it with enough flexibility to keep it going without ever losing the joy of the practice. Too rigid of a structure can add pressure or stress, and practicing is anything but joyful. If that happens, you start questioning whether or not it's worth it. Then suddenly, you're not practicing at all.

The first sign that a conversation is necessary is when you realize that it will be difficult. Difficult conversations surface the uncomfortable truth we'd rather avoid; otherwise, we'd welcome them. And yet, delaying doesn't serve us. Delays not only delay progress but will only make the conversation more difficult in the future.

The art of lasting change is not about willpower or one heroic effort. It all starts with habits.

"A habit is a behavior that has been repeated enough times to become automatic." (James Clear, Atomic Habits)

Habits only become habits when there is a shift in lifestyle that allows for that activity to exist. Every time you practice a habit, consider yourself taking one step closer toward a larger outcome, whether it's desirable or not.

Eating sweets before bed every night will lead to unwanted weight gain over time. Eating an entire cake in one sitting won't lead to anything other than an upset stomach and maybe some temporary extra pounds.

Doing ten push-ups every morning will lead to a stronger upper body down the line. Suffering through 300 push-ups at once won't do much but make you tired.

"Any good coach will tell you that more is gained practicing a short time each day than doing it all at once. Living with it day by day keeps writing on your mind and in your muscles." (Pat Pattison, Writing Better Lyrics)

Dana and I enjoy watching interior design and home renovation TV shows together. Unfortunately, we have no more seasons left of Grand Designs, so we have been making our way through the latest season of Save My House.

In the episode last night, designers Nate and Jeremiah help an older couple who have been living without floors (plywood subfloor), literally, for 16 years. They were cooking on a cooktop and cleaning dishes in a hallway bathroom sink. The story goes like this: the couple embarked on a renovation almost two decades ago, the contractor was not reliable, then they "could not find anyone" with a good sense of design, so they tolerated this. They had the money, but they gave up. I wish I could show you the shape of this home. I am all for compact living, but this was like living in a construction zone. For 16 years...

At first, I was in disbelief. How could anyone let this go for that long? The couple had become grandparents a few years prior and did not feel safe having their grandson visit, so they never had him over. It was heartwarming to see them smile as he ran around their newly installed floors and kitchen at the end of the episode.

The more I thought about it, the more I could empathize. No, I have never tolerated anything this intense for that long, but I believe we all create obstacles in our lives, sometimes without even knowing, and we go about our days tolerating them.

I think of the suitcase I neglect to unpack on a busy Sunday night after visiting family. The action of the week ensues, so I leave it there, stepping over it night after night as I get into bed.

I think of the clothes that sat in the trunk of my car for months when I said I'd donate them. Whenever we'd need trunk space, I'd have to shift everything around to make room or make it all fit in the backseat.

I let myself become immune to these self-imposed obstacles, taking more energy to work around them than to remove them. When I finally take action, I feel liberated, free. There's a weight that I never even realized was there, only noticing it when it's gone.

The scary reality is that these seemingly small obstacles can have a compounding effect. At first, it's an unpacked suitcase, then a useless trunk. Add a few more, and suddenly, every day starts to look like an episode of American Ninja Warrior.

While we're stepping over suitcases as we try to relax and spending extra time packing when heading out of town is already stressful, our mood deteriorates. Happiness and joy become a thing of the past. All we can think to do is take any drastic measure to turn our situation around and get out of the mess. We hit our breaking point and rely on one giant heroic effort to save ourselves.

We rearrange our room because it no longer feels like a resting place.

We buy a new car because we think we need the space.

Sure, change is good, but not if it's the outcome of sacrificing our well-being. I am still unsure how the couple last night made it work in that environment for so long, but they did. I'm happy to see them happy, but I'm sure there's a big part of them that wishes they unpacked that suitcase 16 years ago, or in this case, committed to finishing the job.

+

Related: BL&T No. 007: Identifying the Noise Before It Stops

"Youth has no age." (Pablo Picasso)

Today is my birthday. One of those days every year that you feel connected to while to everyone else, it's just another day. I don't know about you, but lately, it's creeped up on me.

I spent this past Sunday at Jacob Riis Park beach with Dana and a friend. We spent a good deal of time talking about our grandparents, but more specifically, getting older. Uplifting, I know.

I drove home thinking about my Mom-Mom & Pop-Pop. For as long as I can remember, they never acted their age. Despite their bodies growing older, their minds remained sharp and full of wonder. At 92 years old, my Mom-Mom is an avid texter, sending me messages like this one I received today:

Not to mention that she can still hang, even if that means roasting marshmallows until the wee hours of the morning.

Looking ahead to my future, it's this youthful spirit I hope to embody at 92 and beyond.

I'll leave you with this video of Dick Van Dyke doing crunches at age 95. I'll take his youthful mind and body, too.

Both of my parents recently replied to one of my newsletters with thoughts and feedback. It may sound odd, but it's a small gesture that goes a long way. Here's why:

Newsletters & Engagement: Having spent many years performing, I'm still getting used to the feeling of developing an idea and putting it out there without ever knowing if you'll receive feedback. You learn to let it go because otherwise, you'd drive yourself crazy thinking about what others think. There may be a mailing list full of people, but there's no obligation for them to engage. When you're on stage, there's an energy in the room you can feel. Not with newsletters. You have no idea how you're doing. Any engagement means the world, especially when it comes from my parents.

Connecting with Parents: A few years ago, I would have told you that I wasn't sure my parents understood what I did for a living. Pretty sure I'm not alone on this! Writing about my personal and professional journey has allowed me to connect with my parents in new ways. Not only do they better understand what I do, but now, we can engage in deeper conversations around topics that interest us both, whether in person or over email.

Making the time to prepare my newsletter on a busy weekend like this past one can be challenging, but once I hit send, I never regret it. Thanks, Mom & Dad, for the increased momentum this week.

"The more you ritualize the beginning of a process, the more likely it becomes that you can slip into the state of deep focus that is required to do great things." (James Clear, Atomic Habits)

We love to go at full speed, flying through life, switching from one thing to the next. When we get stuck, we get frustrated with ourselves. We call it a creative block. We may even give up for a while or seek out new sources of inspiration. The harder we push, the less enjoyable it is to create.

Maybe it's as simple as slowing down and taking those familiar steps, much like getting a good night's sleep. "Sleep is a quiet, relaxing activity, so it doesn't make much sense to try to transition to that directly from something that is quite the opposite. Our bodies don't do well with abrupt changes. Quiet sleep rituals help ease this transition, preparing us mentally and physically for sleep." (Bedtime Routines and Sleep Rituals for Restful Sleep)

When it comes to the creative process, a ritual can be defined however you see fit. Maybe it's a desk only used for one activity, a lighting setup, a type of music, or all of the above. For author Seth Godin, it's all about getting into uniform.

"There's a whole bunch of obligations that go with being a professional that put you on the hook. And for years I've had uniforms at work. I don't usually wear them in public. They change from time to time. The beginning was a lab coat. Lately, I've just been trying the Japanese volunteer fireman hoppy coat because when you put on the uniform, you've just sent yourself a message to your work at your workspace. Do it at the appointed hours. Never, ever miss a deadline." (The Knowledge Project #105: Failing On Our Way to Mastery)

While I have yet to define any distinct rituals for my creative endeavors, I am curious to give it a try, especially after a hectic week where writing hasn't come easy.

"Anxiety is caused by a lack of control, organization, preparation, and action." (David Allen, Getting Things Done)

Complaints are caused by a lack of clarity, empathy, communication, and context.

Anxiety enjoys a good complaint's company.

Ever hear an unfamiliar term come up in conversation? Instead of asking for clarification, you ignore it. Naturally, everyone around you assumes you know. Weeks later, you are in a meeting with a client when they ask you a question. You panic - that unfamiliar term is coming back to haunt you. You respond, but you stumble. You have no idea what they are asking you. What comes out might as well be gibberish. Your words hang in the room for what feels like hours when suddenly, a colleague breaks the silence.

I am no believer in fake it till you make it. Even if you think you made it (whatever that means), at some point, you run out of steam, with no bank of knowledge to draw on and keep going.

You might be thinking, Lucas - sometimes you need to fake it to learn. Sure - we have to explore the unknown to fill in the gaps, uncover new ideas. That is not faking it. Faking it means you are pretending to know when you have no idea. Faking it means you are afraid to look dumb, so you shy away from asking questions.

Here is the thing - no matter how much we know, there will always be something we have yet to discover. When we fake it, we stop being curious. We stop learning. We stop getting better. We plateau.

"If you wish to improve, be content to appear clueless or stupid in extraneous matters — don’t wish to seem knowledgeable." (Epictetus)

A teammate once gave me feedback that when I say "to [insert name]'s point" in group settings, they feel validated. So, when I don't say this, they worry that I'm not on board with their approach or idea.

I had never thought about my use of this phrase or how it might impact others. Our words carry weight, sometimes more than we realize.

We'll likely say something today that we'll disagree with years from now and may have never considered years ago.

I used to worry about this when I first started writing publicly. I thought that if I contradicted myself somewhere along the line, people might call me a hypocrite.

I no longer let myself get hung up on this train of thought. If we are hungry for knowledge and information, our beliefs are bound to change. From that perspective, contradiction can actually be a symbol of growth.

Sharing our ideas and engaging others in them is one way to put our growth in hyperdrive. It not only requires us to articulate our thoughts, but it invites feedback, helping us see the world from a new vantage point.

It's better to have an idea, shape it, share it, learn from it, and evolve it than to never let it out of your mind.