Today is my father’s birthday. The first one of my life where he isn’t here.
He was the coolest. He was the baddest. I miss him every damned day.

Today is my father’s birthday. The first one of my life where he isn’t here.
He was the coolest. He was the baddest. I miss him every damned day.

You are not going to be everyone’s cup of tea. Not professionally, not personally, not ever. You shouldn’t try. In fact, you shouldn’t even necessarily try to improve the numbers in your audience.
The numbers are already there! You just have to find them.
The world is large. No matter what you do, there are thousands upon thousands of people – if not many more – who will love it. They’ll love you. You don’t need to convert people. You need to find people; you need to filter out the people who are wrong for you.
Most people don’t do this nearly aggressively enough.
When I first got my start in sales, my very brilliant manager pointed at a crowd of people. “In that group are a hundred people. Three of them want what you’re selling and would buy it if they knew about it. Let’s be ultra clear about your job: it’s to find those three people. It’s not to go through the whole group and badger each one into buying until they punch you in the face. It’s to be an efficient detective.”
So someone doesn’t like you? Isn’t picking up what you’re putting down? Cool – ask why, then move on. Don’t argue, don’t dwell. Gather the feedback, incorporate it into your search, and then move efficiently toward your people.
They’re out there, waiting for you. You’re exactly their cup of tea – find them before it gets cold.
Whenever someone makes a claim to me that someone else is a bad communicator, I first ask them if they understood what the person was trying to communicate. They usually don’t – that’s why they’re making the claim. But if you don’t understand what someone is saying, then you can’t make the claim that they’re a bad communicator!
Consider: I don’t speak French. Voltaire was, by all accounts, a wonderful communicator. But if he spoke to me in French, I wouldn’t understand a word of it. If I then said, “everything that guy said was gibberish, he’s a terrible communicator,” I would be quite the fool.
Sometimes I understand perfectly what someone else is communicating, and I cringe at the way they said it. I see myriad opportunities for misunderstanding or I look around the room and see mostly glazed eyes. Then I can claim bad communication technique on the part of the speaker.
While a communicator is responsible for communicating, that doesn’t mean they’ve failed just because you don’t get it. So don’t immediately write them off as not being worth listening to; it could be that there’s a lot of brilliance just on the other side of a little more fluency on your part.
“The energy debt charges interest,” someone said to me today. Wow.
So many of our personal struggles can be approached the way you balance a checkbook. You can’t be financially stable just by making more money, nor can you reach stability solely by curbing your expenditures. You need a balanced flow – expenditures shouldn’t outpace income, and ideally at least some of those expenditures should produce income in a virtuous cycle.
The same is true of energy, of joy, of all the other things you need to live. We use the term “live below our means” in terms of money – spending less than we’re capable of in order to save more and insulate against shocks. But how often do we do that with time? With passion?
Are you “living below your means” when it comes to how much you put in your schedule? Are you balancing the checkbook of things that give you energy versus things that cost it? Are you making sure that whatever pain you endure, you find a way to balance out?
All bills come due, sooner or later. The more you push them off, the higher the final tally will be. Someone is counting – it should be you.
The title of this post was typed entirely by my middle child, The Squish (she also typed the word “Squish”). My youngest, my son Buddy, then typed this part: hhhhiiiii
As soon as they saw me sit down to write, they raced over: “Can I help you?”
The answer to that should just always, always be yes. Not just with kids. With anyone. There are few things that can build stronger relationships than accepting the help that’s offered.
The world is absolutely full of people who want to help you. Some want to help you because they want something for it, but that doesn’t make the offer less genuine. Some want to help you even though they aren’t really able to, but they want to just be there with you during your own journey.
Sometimes it’s just a bored sales associate in a department store and helping a genuinely pleasant and appreciative customer will be the highlight of their day.
Look for ways to help others, certainly. But don’t forget to let others help you.
Happy New Month!
My resolution this month is a simple one: get back to the forest. Camping season is upon us again, and it’s been too long. Before the end of this month, I resolve to spend a night in the woods. I’ll get my gear prepped, check the weather, and let nothing stop me. It’s not a maybe or an “if I have time” this month.
It’s a necessity.
I think people get caught in traps around “informal” meetings or groups. You hear from someone in a professional context that they just want a quick, “casual” coffee or something like that, and suddenly you have no idea what that means.
When something is formal, it has – by definition – rules. And rules make things easy. They give you a set of things to do (or in some cases, tactically not do), which also means you know how to prepare.
Let me take the mystery out of an “informal” meeting for you – it also has rules. In fact, it has pretty much the same rules, but you don’t wear a tie.
Here are the “rules” – for any meeting:
Don’t make this more complicated than it has to be. That’s how you get value out of every meeting – formal or not.
We so often hide the worst parts of us, shielding them from observation by others. But the worst parts of us are like mold. They thrive and grow in the darkness; they die in the light.
Our insecurities, our fears, our failures. These things will haunt us if we let them take up permanent residence in the dark recesses of our memory, forever protected from the hard light of public scrutiny. If we let them out, they diminish to nothing.
It’s the black mold itself that tells you that you should hide it, because it knows. But that darkness is a terrible advisor. Exile it into the sun, and leave no room for its growth.
Think about a circle of people you interact with regularly. Your co-workers, perhaps. Maybe your extended family. Possibly the other people in your hobby group.
Without asking them, do you know what each and every one of those people truly wants, in their heart of hearts? What their deepest desires and ambitions are?
Probably not. So why assume they know yours?
The first step to getting what you ask for is to ask for it. The biggest reason people don’t give you what you want is they don’t know you want it. Speak up, tell them you want something. Ask them what they want, then work together.
Life is often easier than we make it.
When I was at the start of my career, a very common requirement in job ads was “no visible tattoos.” That’s an absolutely insane thing to imagine being on any job ad these days.
I talk to a lot of people who are worried about appearing “professional” to the world at large. There’s nothing wrong with that, by itself. The problem is that you have no idea what that means.
“Professional” is one of those extremely vague and variable adjectives that mean something totally different to everyone. It usually means, “looks, acts, and probably thinks very similarly to me.” Which is why it’s impossible for you to judge yourself as professional or not. You always look like you, but you can’t simultaneously look like everyone that you might want to work with.
Here’s the real deal about professionalism: it’s bullshit as a descriptor of demeanor. It can describe actions very well. Your actions are professional if they’re done with a level of dedication and seriousness that indicates respect for the outcome and those affected by it. A professional carpenter cares that the house he’s building doesn’t fall down and keeps the rain out, and builds accordingly. That carpenter may have tattoos, a Metallica tee shirt, and a mouth like a sailor. But if the house gets finished on time, under budget, and securely? He’s a damned fine professional.
That doesn’t mean everyone can curse a blue streak and be professional, of course. Notice that if you care about the outcomes and those affected by them, your language might matter! But it doesn’t automatically matter – and neither does your hair, your clothes, your skin, your taste in music, et cetera.
What people care about in your actions is professionalism. What people care about in your demeanor is passion.
When I size somebody up as someone I may or may not want to work with, I’ll draw conclusions about their professionalism by examining the outcome of their prior or current work. But if I’m going to draw conclusions about their demeanor, it’ll be whether or not they’re excited! Leaning forward in your chair and clearly being interested in the subject matter beats a three-piece suit or a Victorian communication style.
Show professionalism in your work. Show passion in how you show up to it. And forget about any other bullshit.