One of my worst habits is wanting to do personal projects “all at once.” When I start something, I tend to overdo it rather than taking appropriate breaks. Conversely, if a project looks like it will take more juice than I currently have available, I don’t start at all until I do.

Today, I started a major project that I knew I couldn’t finish. But I made progress – real, solid progress. And now, the full task is smaller.

I haven’t beaten this bad habit entirely, obviously. But hey… it’s a start.

Tonight, my oldest daughter said: “What’s the point of cleaning something if you can’t mess it up again?”

She then immediately followed that little gem up with: “That was smart. You should write a blog about that. You could say: ‘Tonight my daughter said, “What’s the point of cleaning something if you can’t mess it up again?” And as I thought about that, I realized how right she was.’ And then you could write about what you think about that. Because that’s how your blog always goes.”

Oh. My. God.

Forget about AI, the real danger is in your children just absolutely nailing you like that. Part of me feels very seen and appreciated, but another part of me just feels gutted knowing how easy it was for my daughter to reduce me down to my core elements.

Hey, at least I’m consistent, right? And she’s very clever and observant about people. And, much to my delight, she pays attention to what her father says. This could all be worse.

Oh! And yes, of course she’s right. Cleaning is a reset. To put something into a ‘ready’ state. If you aren’t using that thing, whatever it is – why have it?

When possible, I try to use communication to help people. I try to talk about things that I know about so that that information can be of use to people. I try to structure my conversations so that they lead people to figure things out. I try to compliment people.

The things you know about and the things you need are often very far apart.

Practice at helping people isn’t practice at asking for help. Those are different conversational methods.

Whenever something isn’t working, you have no incentive to protect it. Our inclination is to yield to the sunk cost fallacy and think that anything we’ve put effort into is worth shielding, but that just prevents us from getting to the root of the problem. No matter how much you’ve worked on something, if it isn’t functioning as intended then it’s worthless – so you might as well flip it on its head. Break it; shuffle it up and put it back together. You have nothing to lose, no matter how much your brain stings at the idea. But you might gain something. You might actually fix it, or you might realize how to build it better. Or you might just break the hold it has on you, which is worth everything.

I generally think of myself as smart. But I’m careful not to count on it.

I was shopping with my oldest daughter recently and we were browsing a camping supply store. While she was looking at stuff she wanted, I found a merino wool shirt I wanted. The hanger was threaded through with some sort of “security wire” that kept it from being removed from the rack.

I scowled. What a dumb thing, I thought. Are we really so worried about theft that I have to be inconvenienced in this way? That I, in turn, have to inconvenience an employee to come over here and what, unlock a shirt for me? Ugh. So I looked around, made eye contact with an employee across the store, and called him over.

He was cheerful enough, and his smile didn’t falter when I explained what I wanted. He then took the shirt off the hanger and handed it to me.

The hanger was threaded with security wire. The shirt was just… hanging on the hanger.

We both laughed about it (the guy had a good sense of humor), but it was also a really good reminder about how “smart” works. You’re smart when you’re in your “zone of genius.” That means both A.) talking about your area of expertise, and B.) having your ‘thinking cap’ on, i.e. not stressed, not distracted, not hungry, not tired, and consciously deciding to bring your higher intelligence to bear rather than going through whatever you’re doing on auto-pilot because it isn’t that important.

When you’re not in your Zone of Genius, you’re not a genius, no matter how smart you might be while you’re in it. So be careful counting too much on your own intelligence, and give other people grace when they make mistakes. They’re probably just well outside their particular zone, but they’ll be back at some point. So will you.

The more convenient something is, the less resilient it is to any sort of damage or change.

If something – an object, a process, whatever – is very easy to use, even streamlined, then chances are good that when it breaks, it really breaks. Yeah, that iPhone is real sleek. But you can’t fix it if it breaks.

Things that are clunky and inconvenient are also often resilient. A key component of making something convenient is hiding all the moving parts, so you can’t get at the things that need to be tweaked when the whole process goes belly up.

So be careful; a little inconvenience is good for you.

Whenever you present a persuasive argument, it’s generally aimed at a particular group. A common mistake I see when people make such arguments is either assuming that everyone in that group is your enemy or that everyone in that group is your ally.

Every group will contain a mix of both. Your goal in any persuasive argument is to turn your enemies into your allies without turning your allies into your enemies.

Let’s say Sam is trying to get the employees of a particular company to unionize. Sam addresses the whole of the worker population, so that’s the group he wants to persuade. It’s an easy mistake to assume that every worker wants to unionize and only needs a coordinator; if Sam makes that mistake, Sam fails to address the enemies in the group. As a result, the group doesn’t get persuaded.

Meanwhile, Sam is giving speeches to management in that same company trying to bully them into accepting a union. Sam addresses that group as if they’re all enemies, and alienates the potential allies in the group as a result. There may have been managers that were sympathetic or even supportive of a unionization cause, but when they’re treated as adversaries and insulted right from the start, you push them further away.

When you address a group that you’re hoping is allied to your cause and you want to spur them to action, you have to acknowledge the people in that group that aren’t allied to your cause at all. And you have to do so kindly, without bullying – or you’ll never incite the entire group to move the way you want them to.

When you address a group that you’re assuming is opposed to you, you have to seek the allies within that group first. That will show the others that you aren’t an enemy – that you want to reach common ground, which is far more likely to entice others to move in your direction.

Every group is mixed. Be aware, and don’t waste your efforts!

Imagine your goal wasn’t to get something to work, but to break it as quickly and efficiently as possible.

The assignment looks like this: You have to deliver some final process or product, but it won’t pass quality control unless it breaks ten times first, in ten different ways, with proof that you’ve fixed each of those flaws.

Changes how you think about things, right? If you want a car to pass this process, the first thing you have to do is get a (barely) working model and crash it. Then you have to examine that crash and find which things did the worst during the collision – preferably with some prior hypothesis about which parts would suffer the most.

When you’re first starting out on any new project, think this way. Don’t try to go from idea to final product quickly, and don’t expect to get there efficiently. Instead, look to break something quickly. Find the flaws intentionally. Most importantly, don’t take flaws in the initial versions to be indictments of your ability. Your goal is to find flaws, which means they aren’t failures.

Your projects – and your spirit – will be stronger.

I believe the core of all self-improvement is this: help other people.

If you want to be happier, make other people happy. If you want to be wealthier, help other people succeed. If you want to be esteemed, help other people live better lives. If you want to be healthier, work with others on healthy goals.

Methods may change, but that’s all I’ve figured out so far in four decades on this planet.

When you watch a NASCAR or Formula 1 race, you immediately notice that the secret to success isn’t just going as fast as you can all the time. If that light turns green and you put your pedal to the floor and never let up, not only will you not win, but you’ll very likely crash.

You need pit stops. You need to slow down in the curves (but not stop), and you need to go as fast as you can go during the straightaways. You need to adapt to small problems and variations.

All of this isn’t “time management.” It’s energy management.

Our focus as professionals on “time management” feels like an attempt to squeeze as much work out of us as possible, but it ignores the nature of the machines that we are. We overheat and need refueling as much as any car. We need to slow down in curves, and we need to let ourselves fly when the way is clear.

Part of the challenge is identifying what “curves” are for you in this context. I’ll give you a personal example: for the past week I’ve been working in a way that’s not common for me. I’ve been in a room full of brilliant professionals all day, every day for a week – actively collaborating, discussing things, even eating together. It was very productive, but it was also absolutely a “curve” for me – a big energy drain. I simply could not do that every day full-time. The strain would be too great. But in short bursts, it’s a great way to gain some ground if navigated well.

If I went into that curve without realizing that’s what it was, I would likely have pushed myself way too hard and hit the outer wall. I don’t want to crash! So I made sure to focus on techniques to keep my energy levels reserved. I curbed my inclination to volunteer for too many things, I listened and took notes more frequently than I spoke (that’s generally an energy-generating activity for me), and I communicated my intentions early. In short, I slowed down for the curve.

“Time Management” is about not wasting time, doing the most you can do, and being efficient. But you can’t be efficient all the time. Being efficient takes mental and emotional (and even physical) energy that isn’t infinite. Sometimes you need to be a little less efficient in order to maintain a healthy energy flow in your life. You need pit stops when you run out of gas or need a tune-up, not according to a rigid schedule set by someone else. You need to let your energy go somewhere when you have a lot of it, and you need to slow down when you don’t. You need to recognize the shape of the track.

What was the last curve you faced? How would you go through it differently if you thought about this first?

What’s the next one?