Notes

This is a place for thinking out loud, reflecting, and sharing ideas. Notes are a window into my process, thoughts, inspiration, and experiments. Explore visual gallery.

Last Friday, I shared a new essay, Building Teams with TLC. I can't tell you how good it felt to hit the publish button! The framework has been a work-in-progress throughout my time building out the design team at Barrel. Until last year, these concepts only existed in my head. While the team was living them every day, it became challenging to chart the future without visualizing the current reality.

In October 2020, I wrote about visualizing project staffing models and how powerful it was to align with the team. This exercise was the beginning of the framework.

From there, I continued my work codifying other core concepts as I planned for the next stage of my team. Through the process, I found that their application was universal, which led me to document and share them with you.

Since publishing the framework, it has been fun to get feedback from within the team and peers beyond Barrel. Just yesterday, I enjoyed hearing how one of our team members used the Best Fit Activities Diagram to help delineate roles when conducting a website audit at the start of a project. See below.

Best Fit Activities Diagram from TLC framework applied to project
Workshop conducted in Whimsical.

Whether you’re in the process of building a team, scaling an existing one, or even an individual contributor on a team today, I hope the TLC framework brings you new insights on the power of creating a clear team structure.

If you decide to give TLC a try or have questions/feedback, I'd love to hear! Feel free to shoot me an email.

Interested in a TLC template? I'm planning to create templates for each of the framework's components. Sign up here and you'll be the first to receive them when they're ready.

Sometimes, we miss the mark. It happens.

Unfortunately, we missed the mark with one of our clients this week. While I'm not intimately involved with the project or on calls, talking it through with the designer reminded me of a powerful lesson.

Let's take a look at the situation.

The Situation

Round 1

We present the designs via Zoom. We're super excited about what we've done. Luckily, the client loves the look and interactivity of the work. Check. The issue? They feel like we failed to capture the unique selling points of the product. They admit that they have some work to do in gathering the content, but at the same time, we know it's our job to guide them.

The client does not provide additional feedback. They say, "we provided all we have to say during the call."

We regroup and make revisions, focused on creating a page that clearly outlines what the product offers and why it's unique.

Round 2

We present the revised designs, once again via Zoom. Within minutes of the call, the client lets us know this is not what they're looking for; it's feeling very sales-y and off-brand. We finish walking through the designs and end the call.

The internal team does not feel great, and we assume the client does not either. The team sleeps on it (some lose sleep over it) then regroup the next day.

Round 3

In round 1, we nailed the visual but missed the why. In round 2, we nailed the why but missed the visual. In round 3, all we have to do is find the perfect combination of both. Right? We take a step back and revisit the structure with a wireframe. We send it to the client and ask for feedback.

As I write this note, we're still waiting to hear what they have to say before we take it back into design.

So, besides the client being unhappy, what's the issue here?

The Challenge

The client's feedback was reactive on our calls because that's what we asked of them. We did make room for follow-up but from their perspective, they said all they needed to say. Our process did not create space for the client to spend time with the work. Caught up in finding a way forward, we did not re-align with the client on exactly what they're hoping to see. Outcome? We're shooting in the dark.

As demonstrated in this situation, clients often see our work for the first time on calls. When they love it, this can work out fine. When they have feedback, which is inevitable, it's hard for them to give meaningful insights after spending just ~30 minutes with the work.

Many times, this means they regroup offline and send written feedback a couple of days later. In situations like this, we may not get anything more. From there, we have to jump on a second call to make sure we understand the feedback or share revised designs.

Have the Second Meeting, First

If we could do this all over again, I'd suggest we have the second meeting, first. A topic I wrote about in my newsletter in February.

Send the designs the day before the first call, outline the key ideas, and ask for initial thoughts. Give the client time to sit with it and gather their thoughts.

When they provide feedback, we may even have time to address it before the first call. Now we're that much further along. If the client is unhappy with the direction, we can cancel the meeting to revisit the work or get on a call to talk it through.

Either way, the meeting we'd typically have second is the one we have first. Not only do we save everyone's time, but we also invite more thoughtful feedback, and in the end, we're more likely to hit the mark by the first meeting.

I'm confident we'll get this project back on track. In the meantime, I'm excited to apply this thinking more actively across all current and upcoming projects.

Yesterday, I ended the workday feeling off like I might be getting sick. Dana suggested we take a walk outside and take advantage of the warm weather. After a short walk and an impromptu Pomegranate Recharge shake from Juice Press, I started coming back to life.

Whenever I'm not feeling well, I'm on the fence about working out. Unless I'm clearly ill, I usually push myself to do it anyway and feel glad I did afterward. Sunday and Monday were rest days, so I was anxious to get my heart rate up.

I decided to repeat a workout from September 15, 2020, ironically a Tuesday.

Part A, 4 Rounds of:

  • 10/arm x DB Single-Arm Kneeling Press
  • 12/arm x DB Row
  • 15 x Leg Lift with Pulse

Part B, 4 Rounds for Time:

  • 30 x Sumo DB Deadlifts
  • 20 x Goblet Lunges
  • 10 x Push Ups

I increased the weight for a few of the movements. From 35# to 40# for the DB Single-Arm Kneeling Press and DB Rows. From 40# to 52.5# for the Sumo DB Deadlift.

I'll admit, there was a second there on Part B where I wondered if I should have stuck with the original weight! In the end, I powered through, and it was well worthwhile. I was feeling good until I noticed my time for Part B in September...

In September, I completed Part B in 7 minutes, 55 seconds. Last night, my time was 13 minutes, 23 seconds. What... the...? For one, I should have looked at the time ahead of the workout. I love trying to beat an old time. But more importantly, why was I so slow?

In these moments, I find it hard not to be frustrated. Annoyed, I immediately dismissed how I felt pre-workout and the increase in weight. In a group workout setting, my coach or friends would remind me of these circumstances. Without that, I needed some other way to understand the discrepancy.

So what did I do?

  • Flip back to September 15 in my camera roll. I record every workout in time-lapse. A habit I picked up last year. How did I look? Was I home or visiting family?
  • Open the Withings app. I weigh myself daily. What was my weight on September 15? Body composition?
  • Open the Whoop app. What was my strain on September 14? What was my recovery score for September 15?

Here's what I gathered:

  • Shorter hair seven months ago. Not a big deal, but it is hotter these days.
  • Body composition is nearly identical.
  • My recovery was ~20% higher on September 15 and trending higher in the days prior.

For me, tracking like this is how I know I'm staying on the right path and making progress. In a situation like this, it makes all of the difference.

Discovering that my stats in September were close and slightly better than now, I could more confidently deduce that my DB weight increase and overall physical state were the factors driving the increase in my Part B time.

One question that I wish I could answer is: what did I eat that day? I'd love to understand if my diet had any impact on my time. I used to track my diet in MyFitnessPal. Since learning what I need to maintain my weight, I've stopped. Maybe I'll pick that up again soon. More data = more insights.

Today, I repeated a workout from August and beat my time by 26 seconds. No increase in weight, but I'll take it.

I was chatting with an employee recently who shared a challenge they often face when giving feedback to others. They mentioned that when the response is "Can you be more specific about an example where this took place?" when they give feedback, they feel like their feedback is being dismissed or questioned. It's as though they have to prove that their feedback is worthy of discussion or "correct," leaving them feeling unmotivated.

I never thought about this perspective. It makes a lot of sense. I'm guilty of it myself, and since surfacing it, I've noticed it happening in conversations daily.

What's interesting about this interaction is that, most times, both people want the same thing; to work better together. However, when they communicate, their unique context gets in the way of the message.

It reminds me of a classic rom-com where the couple breaks up because of a misunderstanding, only to later realize they made a mistake. As the viewer, you know that neither of them wants the relationship to end; they just have no idea how the other is feeling. You wish you could step through the TV into their unrealistic, picturesque NYC apartment and scream, "Hey!!! She DOES want to be with you. She didn't answer your text because she thought you had feelings for your ex."

Exploring Context

I took this experience as an opportunity to explore the possible context that surrounds each person during the exchange. In this example, the feedback is between a junior designer and an account director.

The feedback: "I find it hard to get a word in when you're in meetings. Over time, this has made me feel like my opinion doesn't matter." 

Junior Designer: Giver

  • They are doing everything they can to deliver quality work and show their capabilities.
  • They're eager to grow in the role and learn new things every day.
  • Feedback is uncomfortable to them, but their manager has shown them how important it is to give feedback and do it directly.
  • They spent the night practicing how to deliver the feedback with their roommate.
  • They're feeling nervous and apprehensive about the conversation.

Account Director: Receiver

  • They want to support the team as much as possible.
  • They're still learning the ropes and trying to figure out how they fit into projects.
  • They often feel like they're talking to themselves in team meetings. They wonder if anyone cares about the work. They try to fix this by being louder and more enthusiastic.
  • They haven't had a lot of feedback from the team and wonder how they're doing.
  • They're excited to have a feedback conversation and are hungry for growth areas.

After the Junior Designer gives the feedback, the Account Director says: "I had no idea. Can you be more specific about an example where you felt this way?"

Imagine how this might go if neither shares what they're thinking? If they do?

Going Forward

When it comes to feedback, I find it liberating to put all of my relevant context on the table; so the other person has a chance to get inside my head. It can be hard to be this vulnerable, but the relief afterward is always worthwhile.

In terms of asking for examples, I don't think it's unreasonable when receiving feedback; it's just good to consider how the question may be received. 

When giving feedback, this insight has been a welcome reminder to be as specific as possible. Come prepared with the examples before ever being asked. It's natural to want to give high-level, vague feedback in fear of discomfort, but that can be hard for others to take action on. 

Here are some related posts on feedback:

Every Wednesday, I meet one-on-one with our three senior designers for one hour. 

Until recently, the format has been open-ended. Sometimes, we spend most of the time reviewing designs. Other times, we go deep on themes such as role definition on projects or how to distill client feedback.

In recent weeks, I noticed a trend. If there wasn't much activity on their projects, they wouldn't prepare much to discuss. Early Wednesday, I'd receive a message: Hey, I don't have much to discuss. We can probably end early. 

While we'd always end up using the full hour anyway, it was clear that the meeting structure was worth revisiting. Last week, I rolled out a new format. Here's a look:

Highlight of the Week (5-10 min)

Project Review (30 min)

Open Discussion (remaining time)

  • Anything that’s come up lately that you think I should know about?
  • Are there any ways I could better support you?
  • Have there been any recent situations where you’d like my advice on how to handle it now or next time?
  • How much time are you spending on executing work? Overseeing? Anything you'd change?
  • How much time do you spend in meetings? Are there any you don’t feel you need to attend?
  • What do you think are the biggest blockers right now for the team?
  • What is your favorite part of your role? Why is that?
  • What is your least favorite part of your role? How do you handle that?

The new format is meant to uncover thoughts and ideas that may not otherwise get surfaced. While we still have time to review designs, the goal is to make sure we leave time for open discussion. If there's nothing pressing on the designer's mind, the list of questions can be used as a guide. Whichever question feels most relevant is where we start.

We're only one week in, but the questions have already proven to be incredibly insightful. With shared notes in place, I'm excited to see how their answers to the same question evolve.

Every Friday, I make time to review my notes and tie up any loose ends as I close out the workweek. A helpful tool for making sure this is not a big lift is the two-minute rule, one of my favorite productivity tips from David Allen’s book, Getting Things Done.

The rule is simple. For any new tasks that can be done in less than two minutes, complete them immediately. I practice this habit all week long, making it easy to welcome the weekend with open arms.

Here’s what I learned when I adopted it:

  • I unconsciously put off simple tasks like replying to emails, saving down files, and e-signing documents.
  • When I delayed these tasks, it took me longer to document them than to get them done.
  • Over time, these tasks piled up. They added weight to my day that took energy away from more pressing initiatives.
  • In the end, a bunch of small tasks had turned into one giant one. I had to rely on a heroic effort to get them all done.
  • Two minutes is a long time! It’s surprising how much you can accomplish with a focused two minutes.

In the words of David Allen, “the two-minute rule is magic.”

In my teenage years, it was rare to find me without a guitar. If I wasn't in school or working, I was in my room writing new songs or practicing in the unfinished basement of my best friend turned drummer turned best man, Kyle, or performing for a room of people. We played everywhere; the local bookstore, Sweet Sixteens, the neighborhood cafe, a pottery studio, an old record store, restaurants, fundraisers, you name it.

I'm grateful to have had a supportive family who attended just about every concert. Even to this day, they'll gladly make the trip to NYC to see me perform. Before I could drive, my dad would typically accompany me on his own for performances on weeknights. Many of these were open mic nights, aka a lot of fun and a lot of waiting.

As an adult, I look back fondly on these memories with my dad. We found ways to pass the time together, and in the process, I think we formed an unsaid bond. After performing, he'd give me feedback. I'd make mental notes. Most nights, he'd also record the performance, so I'd review it when I got home. More notes. Rinse and repeat.

The more that I performed, the more comfortable I got, the more I wanted to perform for more people.

As recollections of past performances pass through my mind, there is one that always stands out. It wasn't because it was our best performance or we had the largest audience. It was quite the opposite. I can't place the venue, but the turnout was much smaller than we had expected. I had high hopes, and regretfully, I let my disappointment show on stage.

Seeing my frustration, my dad came over to talk to me after a few songs. I don't remember him saying much except this: Always perform like you're in an arena.

It was a reminder that I was performing for myself, just as much, if not more, than my audience. It didn't matter if there were two or 2,000 people in the audience; what mattered was that I gave it my all. For those who did choose to support me, why give them any less than my best?

This statement stuck with me. I still find power in its application today. Over the years, I've come to view life as one big performance. Every day, we perform for our significant other, friends, family, co-workers, clients, etc.

Performance is about being true to yourself and consistently striving for growth. For this to be true, we have to perform for ourselves before we perform for others. We have to want to get up and make a special breakfast for our family because we enjoy seeing them smile. We have to want to design an incredible website experience because we know it will take the client's business to the next level, and that excites us. The minute we stop performing for ourselves and start performing for others, we begin losing sight of why we ever got up on stage.

As I write this, I don't know who will take the time to read it. When I let that get in my way, I find that I rarely make it this far. I become focused on the stories that I think others want to read, not the stories I want to tell. The stories that I know best and make me, me.

Teams are special because collectively, they can produce work that no team member could create alone. Teams represent a range of skills, expertise, passions, and perspective. 

When working on a project with a team, it is natural to get caught up in the details without ever surfacing relevant background about ourselves and our teammates. Yes, our job is to create an impact for the client or customer; we must focus on them and learn as much as possible. That said, imagine the value we could make by uncovering the connections that our teammates have with the work and we have with each other.

How helpful would it be to know that your teammate spent 15 years as a personal trainer when working with a fitness client; or that the developer on the project is studying animation?

Here are some questions to consider when starting work with a new team. Not only can these questions help uncover important context about the team, but through those discoveries, they can also create a deeper understanding of the work itself and make for more productive collaboration.

  1. Share a positive experience from a recent project. Why did it make you feel good?
  2. What is most exciting to you about this project? Intimidating?
  3. What unique perspective or skillset do you think you bring to this project?
  4. How do you relate most with our target audience or customer?
  5. Are there any relevant lessons from past projects that you think might apply to this one?
  6. What do you hope to learn by the end of this project?

A few weeks ago, I discovered Michael Chernow's podcast, Born or Made. Michael is best known for founding NYC restaurant, The Meatball Shop. In a recent episode with guest Will Ahmed (founder/CEO, Whoop), Michael shared a ritual for handling stressful moments:

"I do something called the 'S.T.O.P. Smile' ... If I'm feeling overwhelmed, which happens often, I literally stop, close my eyes, and smile from ear to ear for 15 seconds."

S.T.O.P. stands for:

  • Smile, pause, and breathe.
  • Transition from an overwhelmed state to patience.
  • Observe this new reality.
  • Proceed.

As I listened to the podcast, I couldn't help giving Michael's theory a try. He was right; smiling is transformative.

Michael describes the ritual as tapping into his serotonin. Out of curiosity, I turned to Google to learn more. According to this article (among many others), there's science behind every smile:

"When you smile, your brain releases tiny molecules called neuropeptides to help fight off stress. Then other neurotransmitters like dopamine, serotonin and endorphins come into play too. The endorphins act as a mild pain reliever, whereas the serotonin is an antidepressant. One study even suggests that smiling can help us recover faster from stress and reduce our heart rate."

I always remind myself to take a deep breathe when a situation gets tense but I never thought to smile. I've enjoyed putting this simple ritual into practice.

Feedback has been on my mind a lot lately. It was a theme in my performance reviews at the start of the year, I just completed reading An Everyone Culture: Becoming a Deliberately Developmental Organization, and last week, we kicked off a six-month coaching program centered on building a culture around feedback and personal growth (featured in my newsletter today).

A common complaint I hear from employees is: I don't get enough direct feedback from my peers. While I'm grateful to see employees crave feedback, feedback is no one's responsibility but our own.

I love to reframe this complaint into a question: what can I do to get the type of feedback I'm looking for? If we all actively seek out feedback, they'll be plenty of feedback to go around.

We often confuse "How did that go?" after a meeting with asking for feedback. We're vague, so what do we get? More vagueness in return. The team mutters:

  • Jake: "Pretty good!"
  • Jasmine: "Not bad."
  • Jessica: "Client seemed happy."

We leave the meeting with some interpretation of how it went and go about our day.

In the future, Jasmine is asked to do a peer review of our performance. She mentions how she wishes we took more of a lead in meetings. We get frustrated. Why didn't Jasmine share this when I asked?

The trouble is that we never asked...

Getting constructive feedback requires specificity. Specificity is taking How do you think that meeting went? and going deeper. What do you really want to know? Try: Do you think I was effective in explaining how the client's vision informed our approach?

Specificity can be challenging in more ways than one. It requires focus and vulnerability. But once you get in the swing of it, the benefits greatly exceed any temporary discomfort.

I was chatting with a freelance designer recently, and we got to talking about the creative process. I shared an exercise we do with our clients to kick off the design phase of any project. We call it the Creative Alignment Workshop. I was surprised at how interested they were in giving it a try and realized, hey - maybe I should share it with others?

The Origin

Before I explain what it is and how it works, let's start from the beginning. Several years ago, we had a client who kept telling us to make the website feel warmer. After maybe... ten iterations of the homepage, we realized that we must be missing something. We jumped on a call and asked them to show us what warm looked like to them. They showed us a bunch of websites with images of people. Here we were experimenting with one warm tone after another in our designs. Wrong warm!

You may be wondering: Why hadn't we asked them this sooner? Why didn't the client ask for people earlier? That, unfortunately, we'll never know, but what I do know is that we were clearly not creatively aligned.

I learned two lessons through this experience:

  1. Everyone has their own words to describe what they see.
  2. Everyone has tastes and preferences. They will remain the same before and after ten homepage iterations.

The Creative Alignment Workshop was born out of these lessons. The objective is to align on a shared design vocabulary among Barrel and the client team. It is simple, effective, and clients love it.

How it Works

Step 1: Gather references.

As early as possible, before any design has begun, we take what we know so far about the client (brand book, existing website, website references) to start gathering imagery that we feel could be a good fit for the new direction. While we may have early ideas of the directions we want to explore, the goal is to gather a range of creative samples that demonstrate color, typography, imagery, illustration, and any other relevant design elements out in the world. These creative samples can include everything from websites to posters. Aim for a minimum of 30.

Step 2: Create the deck.

We add everything we gathered into a presentation deck. Don't labor over the order. Keep it random. Only include one creative sample on each slide.

Step 3: Conduct the workshop!

When it comes to the workshop, we like to make it feel like a conversation, so the format is casual. Typically it lasts one hour. The designer on the project clicks through each slide and briefly describes what they see in their language. The ask of the client? Talk about what you see, what you like, and what you don't like. Slide by slide, the client opens up more and more. It's like some sort of creative truth serum. Everyone vigorously takes notes on what they hear.

Here's an example of an exchange:

  • Designer: "On this slide, you'll see bright, bold colors juxtaposed with a formal serif typeface. We're interested in this tension."
  • Client: "I find those colors pretty distracting. I don't love the color yellow; my first car was yellow, and it broke down on me in the middle of the night. It brings back bad memories. The 'Times New Roman' typeface is nice, but I think it might be boring for us."

Do you see how differently the Designer and Client talk about the same image?

Why is this effective?

As you can see in the example dialogue, it is pretty amazing what you can learn with a simple conversation. In one hour, you get a sense of where the client sees the project going creatively, any visual motifs they love or hate, and hopefully a few different areas to explore.

To be clear, the idea here is not for the client to create the directions for you. The objective is to set you up with as much information as possible before you get to designing. Maybe you decide that, conceptually, yellow is a must-explore color, and that's fine - at least you know that the client may not be so open to it.

What is the follow-up?

We have done this several ways over the years, and sometimes, we change it with the client. Overall, we have had success by following up with two or three mood boards that bring together the creative samples into unique themes. We include notes from the discussion and give the client a chance to add any final remarks before we get to work.

If you decide to give this a try, I'd love to hear about it: lucasjballasy@gmail.com.

When I can't find what I deem to be the right words, I default to prefacing my thoughts with statements like:

  • "I don't want this to come off the wrong way..."
  • "I'm not sure how to put this, but..."
  • "I hope you find this valuable..."

At its core, this is a defense mechanism.

The pro is that I'm not holding my thoughts captive; I'm sharing them. An idea can be world-changing, but it is worth nothing if no one hears it.

The con? I'm getting in my own way.

  • I'm inviting the listener to form a perception about my idea before I even share it.
  • I'm expressing doubt while trying to instill confidence.
  • I'm creating distractions while looking for engagement.

Looking back, I see that these statements add no value. While they may create relief for me temporarily, they serve no purpose in delivering my message. 

Looking ahead, I am making an effort to catch myself and pause. Those few seconds in silence, while brief, are powerful. It is just enough to take a breath, collect myself, and speak with poise and clarity.

In my first-ever yoga class, I remember the instructor referring to the session as our practice. I now realize that this is common, but at the time, it stood out to me. As a beginner, it made me feel welcome. So much power in the subtly of those words. I wasn't coming to the class and expecting to leave as an expert. I wanted to give yoga a try and leave equipped with more experience than when I entered.

As a participant and spectator of growth, I find it all too easy to fall into the trap of framing our growth areas as a skill we must master in a finite amount of time.

We declare that we need to:

  • Be confident
  • Be a better listener
  • Trust others
  • Let go of past mistakes
  • Be honest

Maybe Amazon's influence on our culture plays a role? We know we can order a pack of Gatorade today and have it in time for our workout tomorrow. We get what we want when we want it. If I recognize that I need this skill, I can attain it soon, right? 

We end up working on our weaknesses focused only the outcome. We forget about the journey. We get frustrated when our package doesn't come as quickly as we hoped. Pressure builds. This mindset leads to anxiety and inaction.

Growth suddenly looks impossible. Becoming a better listener now feels like climbing El Capitan with no equipment. We can see the top, but we can't make out the trail. We get anxious at the thought of exploring unknown territory. It feels better not to worry, so we choose not to act.

The truth is that we can't expect change overnight. Alex Honnold didn't decide to climb El Capitan on Monday and get it done on Tuesday. He put in the preparation. He put in the practice.

"I talk about how much preparation goes into it, and how you take something that starts out totally crazy and impossible and turn it into something that is not only possible and likely but inevitable.” (Alex Honnold)

Our growth areas will always be a work-in-progress. Even when we progress, there will be days when we regress. Weeks. Months. Years. We have to stumble to get up again. Fail to learn, learn to grow. Even when we reach the top, we set our sights on the next climb.

Much like my yoga experience, we are all beginners in one way or another. I know I can't be perfect every day. I know that I can't expect to order a new strength for next-day delivery. However, I do know that I can practice.

By reframing our ambitions, we remind ourselves of what is important, showing up daily and giving them our best shot. We can declare to:

  • Practice confidence
  • Practice active listening
  • Practice trusting others
  • Practice letting go
  • Practice honesty

Our growth areas become our practice. What doesn't get better with practice?

You can be the one to speak up

...when a topic feels uncomfortable...

...when it feels like you have an unpopular opinion...

...when there's an elephant in the room...

...when you feel like context is missing...

...when someone is left out...

...when you don't understand...

...when the direction doesn't feel right...

...when the next step is unclear...

because chances are you're not the only one.

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Note: In those moments when I feel like I'm on my own in a room (or Zoom) full of people, I find this to be a comforting reminder.

When we feel at our best, we immerse ourselves in the activities that make us feel good. We are on top of the world. This might mean cooking our favorite dish, entertaining friends, going for a bike ride, or sketching in our notebook.

When we feel down, it can feel like the world is crumbling around us. We turn to our vices. We feel bad for ourselves and think we deserve this. This might mean drinking a couple of bottles of wine, binge-watching TV into the wee hours of the morning, or eating poorly.

The truth is that if we are feeling down, our vices are the last place to turn. While we may feel some initial satisfaction, they will only bring us down, likely leaving us in a more troubled state than where we started. Our health declines, we start feeling bad about ourselves, and soon, we regret our decisions. Why not focus on the activities that make us feel good? In these low moments, I think we face two challenges: motivation to take the first step and clarity on what that step is.

While I haven't yet read Matthew McConaughey's new book Greenlights, he talks about journaling as a pathway for happiness in interviews promoting it. He believes we spend too much time analyzing our failures and neglect to understand what life looks like when we are happiest. Through journaling, McConaughey can go back in time to peel back the layers of the happiest moments in his life. How was he using his time? What was his mindset? Equipped with these insights, he can use them to get back on track.

This outlook is inspiring. I have applied it to my own life by taking stock of what a baseline of happiness looks like for me each week. What activities make me feel like I am moving ahead? What do I need to do to go to bed each night feeling accomplished? The answers to these questions are the foundation for my habits.

No matter what is happening around me, good or bad, I make it my duty to maintain these healthy habits. When I feel on top of the world, they bring me added joy. When I am feeling down, they give me fuel to push ahead.

To take this a step further, I have also applied it to the way my team operates. I believe that every team has a collective energy that can be maintained with their own set of healthy habits or rituals. Over the years, I have created of number of them. Some have evolved, others remain the same. Regardless of how busy we are or how hectic the week feels, we stick to what energizes us. Some examples:

  • Daily Stand Up
  • Creative Juice (inspiration share)
  • One Minute Wednesdays
  • Weekly Discipline Meeting
  • Monthly Design Dialogue (leadership workshop with my direct reports)

We have a motto among the Barrel partners: no good days, no bad days, just days. Prioritizing healthy habits has helped bring some truth to this motto every day, at home and at work.