Every time we have the floor we have the chance to create connection (or to sever it). We can open up possibility or we can close it.
Sometimes, we share our answer thinking it might be the answer, when it might have been better to ask a generous question instead.
Being funny by being cutting isn’t funny, that’s just an excuse.
It’s hard to take words back, and we use so many of them, it’s likely that there are some we’d prefer to retrieve. Note to self: better to slow down a little instead.
November 6, 2020
Before we make a decision, we wonder about our dreams, our stories and our needs. Some of the things we wonder about, even if we don’t verbalize them to ourselves:
What will I tell my friends?
What will I tell my boss?
What is everyone else doing?
Will this make me feel dumb?
Is this good for me right now?
Does it help my family?
Is it scarce?
Does it raise my status?
Will this help me be part of a group I care about?
Would my mom be proud of me?
Will I get blamed?
Is there a shortcut?
Is it safe?
Is it thrilling?
How will I feel if they run out?
Will it make the pain go away?
Is it forbidden?
[And then, maybe, if we’ve got many choices, “how much does it cost?”]
November 5, 2020
It’s comforting to have a snappy answer or the certainty of knowing not only how it is, but how it happened and precisely what happens next.
But sometimes we don’t know.
And in those moments, we are left with our first principles. To focus on possibility, on the change we seek to make, on showing up as an even better version of the person we hope to be.
Especially when it’s hard.
November 4, 2020
Today is ship day for my new book, The Practice.
Medium asked me to do a weekly series about creativity. The first two posts are now live.
Also! I’m doing a Facebook Live (to be reposted later on Insta, etc) today at 4:15 New York time. Come with your questions about the magic of shipping creative work.
This week, some of the best podcasters I’ve ever met are rolling out podcast interviews on creativity that might resonate with you…
And, for the next 24 hours, you can enter for a chance to win some rare, out of print or simply fun backlist items from my attic of past projects and provocations.
Find the form to enter right here. There are only 100 prizes, and I’ll do my best to deliver before the end of the year.
Included in the prize pool:
The behemoth, an 18-pound, 800-page collector’s item.
The titan, the follow-up, similar in size, and profusely illustrated with amazing photos from Thomas Hawk.
Sleeves of alternate collectible covers for This is Marketing.
The super-rare LP edition of my reading of two of my past books. These are beautiful, even if you don’t own a record player. Winners get five copies to share.
The cut crystal Purple Cow award, and just a few of the scarce remaining Purple Cow milk cartons.
Several other cool items, too scarce to mention here.
You can’t win if you don’t enter. I started doing online contests and sweepstakes in 1990, so this is a special thirtieth-anniversary celebration. You get a bonus entry for every copy of The Practice you buy.
Here are some pics of available goodies:
“The magic is that there is no magic.” Simply the satisfaction of doing the work.
November 3, 2020
The Cuban Missile Crisis was an actual crisis. The world was hours away from being annihilated–gone forever, all of us.
Since then, the media has exploited (and invented) crises on a regular basis, now more than ever, often at the expense of focusing our attention on chronic conditions, which are the real challenges.
Today’s election day in the US, and the whole world is watching. Even with mail-in voting, it’s mostly a one-day thing. A useful crisis, a chance to encourage millions of people to get involved, at least a little. The last time around, only 80,000 votes separated the outcome, a truly tiny fraction of the population who didn’t show up and vote but could have.
While the Tonkin crisis accelerated the US’s involvement in Vietnam, it was the chronic and persistent war that truly took a toll. We notice the amplified moments but the long haul is often invisible. And media like Twitter make it 140 times worse.
A crisis doesn’t have to be a negative event. A wedding is a crisis–one ceremony, one day, over and done. All eyes, all attention, all on this moment. That’s why we do it–even though the chronic condition of the marriage itself is always more important. And we do the same thing for job interviews and product launches as well.
Today’s the launch day for my new book, The Practice. People asked me why I would waste the focus and crisis of a launch on a day when everyone is going to be talking about something else. I did it partly because I know you can handle two things at once, and would probably want to find something to fill your time while you were waiting for the results. And mostly because The Practice is about the long haul, the persistent posture of creation and possibility. I’d love to have an exciting launch day (I’ll be posting some hoopla details later today) but I’m far more interested in what the people who go first do with the book after they read it. Tomorrow, next month and next year.
It doesn’t make sense to waste a good crisis, but it also hurts us when we are only concerned with them.
Please vote today if you can, and then let’s all try to find a way to work together to figure out how to focus on the persistent, chronic conditions that we can each do something about.
[Video by Fernando Lazzari]
This is pretty easy to discuss when we’re discussing buying an ice cream sandwich. It costs $2, you get an ice cream sandwich.
It gets a little more nuanced when we talk about what $2 means to you, what the freedom to choose is worth, the guilt or joy you get from eating a sugary dessert all on your own, the fun of sharing it with a friend, your narrative about hormones and livestock… Maybe it’s not that easy after all.
And so we get to the sometimes subtle calculation of voting.
Tomorrow in the US is voting day. It apparently doesn’t cost anything to vote–just a few minutes of time. But it actually can feel like it costs a lot, because it comes with cognitive load, with decision making, with a feeling of power or futility or connection or loneliness. If you don’t vote, it’s a lot easier to deny any responsibility.
A year ago, I was standing in line at an ice cream stand in Syracuse, NY. A person in front of me took more than two minutes (a long time when it’s a long line!) to make up their mind, and even let two other people jump ahead because it was so hard (which means, also, so fun) to be undecided. That’s a choice, and the date certain of voting pushes us to move through that state…
But along with these costs, voting comes with the feeling of participation. Even if you don’t think your vote counts, others do. People are paying attention, and over time, it adds up.
And it comes with the feeling of generosity, because you can vote to advance the well-being of someone who needs to be seen even more than you do.
If you’re a habitual non-voter, it’s worth wondering for a moment about the calculation you use to keep that streak going, and perhaps consider exploring the feelings that come when you break that streak.
Not just tomorrow, but in all the ways, and on all the days, when we don’t speak up, don’t raise our hands and don’t vote.
November 2, 2020
If you accidentally leave the gate open and foragers end up destroying 1000 acres of crops, the guilt feels different than if you went and actively burned down the fields, even if the damage is identical.
In our society, we treat errors of omission differently from the decision to commit a crime.
But there are countless places in between.
What if you should have known?
What if you could have known but didn’t bother to do the work?
What if you promised you’d do the work to find a path, but then didn’t?
One reason we hide is that we’re afraid of being on the hook, of making a promise we can’t keep, of showing up and taking responsibility for our intentional actions. But, as information becomes more widespread and our leverage increases, we’ve already put ourselves on the hook. Could, should and would not only rhyme, they exist on a continuum.
November 1, 2020
It’s time for the annual window painting competition in my little town. Store owners allow kids to have a 2 foot by 4 foot piece of window to paint a scary/funny/punny Halloween billboard, and the winners get a certificate.
And every year, parents not only help, they often take over and do all the work.
The thing is: Not one of these entries, ever, has been the best in the world. None has been perfect or even worthy of hanging in a gallery. It’s not a worldwide absolute competition. It’s relative.
Relative to what you’re capable of.
You’re not running the race against everyone else. More often than not, you’re simply running it against yourself.
[And as long as we’re thinking about the Grateful Pumpkin and seasonal reasons to be thankful, a reminder that in the US, Thanksgiving is in three weeks. The annual Thanksgiving Reader is available for free download and easy at-home printing. Designed by Alex Peck, he and I are offering it to families so that we can create a new tradition. This year more than ever, even if it’s by Zoom.]
Don’t eat cheap chocolate!
October 31, 2020
Striving to be asleep is a difficult leap. On the other hand, committing to lying still is do-able. Lying still makes it more likely you’ll get to the next step.
Hoping to grow your business by word of mouth by willing your customers to talk about you isn’t nearly as productive as making something worth talking about.
Skipping a step is frustrating and usually futile.
October 30, 2020
The scientific method is the most powerful invention humans have ever created. It’s not just for people in white coats and in labs. The scientific method has changed what we wear, what we eat, the health of our families, the way we earn a living–the world as we know it is a result of a simple process of hypothesis, testing and explanation.
Unfortunately, school and other systems in our world focus on just one or two of the elements necessary to do it well.
- Know the rules, maxims and outcomes that came before. Do the reading, score well on the test.
- Understand the thinking behind these rules, so you can dive deeper and either change the rules or expand on them.
- Do tests that others haven’t thought of or that people don’t think will work. Intentionally create falsifiable hypotheses, knowing that you might be wrong, and then go test them.
- Publish your results so that others can examine your work and improve it. Show your work. Invite correction and improvement.
- Explain what you did clearly so that it becomes part of the canon, so it can be used by others, until it’s replaced by something even more useful.
There are very few contentious arguments in our world today that couldn’t be more quickly resolved if all involved were willing to act in good faith and work their way through the steps together.
Because if you seek to lead or to change minds, if you’re working for better, then you’re a scientist.
October 29, 2020
