I am a storyteller. It’s in my nature, and that goes along with a voracious appetite for consuming good stories as well. I love hearing people’s stories, and I love most fiction. Compelling cinema, great novels, brilliantly-crafted television: it’s all great fodder for me.

I do have a particular animosity for one type of flaw in fiction, however. I can “suspend disbelief” for any outrageous concept. Your story can have magic or wondrous technology that breaks the laws of physics, whatever. I do think it’s a mark of good storytelling if your magical conceits are internally consistent, but even that isn’t always a dealbreaker for me.

What is a dealbreaker is when a story relies on humans acting in ways humans simply never act. Humans in Star Trek are far more virtuous and altruistic than humans of the real world, but that’s built into the show – the writers address it directly quite often, talking about the advancements not only in technology but in culture several centuries in the future. That’s believable to me – after all, even though modern humans might seem selfish at times, we’re wildly more altruistic and peaceful than humans were a few thousand years ago (or even a few hundred). When someone sees a neighbor with a shiny new toy, they might be jealous, but 99.9% of them don’t even feel the urge to beat them to death with a rock and take it, even though that’s absolutely in our biological nature. So if time and culture can get us from there to here, I can buy that in the future we go even farther.

But sometimes stories that are ostensibly set in the modern-day “real world” feature humans as virtuous and noble as any Starfleet captain as the default, and that just becomes unwatchable to me. Procedural crime dramas that feature entire major city police departments whose members never lie, cut corners, or take the easy road instead of the difficult one are far more unrealistic than any faster-than-light spaceship or magic wand.

Why do I care? Because I think our fictional narratives are so important because they show us how our culture sees the world. Stories of romance can teach you to be romantic by showing you what tugs on the heartstrings of your fellow humans. Stories of bravery can show you how to overcome adversity and inspire you to do so. Stories about pain and loss can give you a connection to your own, and to others that feel as you’ve felt.

But all of that only works if the humans you’re experiencing that narrative through actually… act like humans. They can be noble, aspirational figures, of course – especially the main protagonists, who often should rise above the average in terms of the virtues of the soul. But they should also carry their flaws, bring their nobility to bear in realistic ways, and exist in a world where the average level of virtue is similar to what you’ll actually see.

If you read romance novels where every character immediately swoons at every suitor’s gesture, that’s not going to teach you much about how romance works! If your action hero is so amazing that he never even needs bravery or cleverness to overcome anything, then it might be a fun distraction for 90 minutes, but it isn’t adding anything to your own reserves of inspiration when you need it.

I believe in the power of stories, of fiction, to connect us to a wider world of humanity. And the stories I love the most are those crafted by people who have obviously met other humans, and understand them a little themselves.

You need to eat. Sometimes, that means you need a slapped-together peanut butter sandwich right now. Other times, that means saving your appetite for a really great meal you’re going to spend several hours preparing. The decision of whether to meet a need (or even a want) soon but with a lesser option versus “holding out” for a better option later can only be made by you, but you should make that decision with intention.

Our desires will often drive us toward the quicker option. That’s not always the wrong choice, but it’s definitely the wrong choice to default to. Instant gratification is a trap that can drain us of the mental resources we need to build a better life. Desire is fuel. It’s a resource that, when carefully cultivated, can turn into ambition and dedication, planning and prosperity.

When you need to eat immediately, do so. But as often as you can, for eating or anything else, plan and prosper.

I like vegetables. I’m not a vegetarian, but there are definitely multiple days each week where I don’t eat meat at all, simply because my overall diet choices prioritize a lot of veggies, beans, etc. I get a lot of my protein from things like cottage cheese, Greek yogurt, etc. (I mention this because encouraging “Meatless Mondays” is a great way to advocate for less meat consumption, as opposed to strict vegetarianism, if that’s your thing!)

While I don’t have any problem with going meatless, there’s one thing I strongly dislike: imitation meat. Not because I have a problem with the taste or whatever – some taste good and some don’t, just like any other food. I have a strong dislike of the concept.

If you don’t like something (like meat), you don’t have to imitate it to replace it! You don’t have to create a version of that thing that’s as close as you can make it. You can just not do that thing! You can just grill portobello mushrooms instead, or even create entirely different dishes. There are so many delicious things you can eat that aren’t meat! You don’t have to go through all the extra rigmarole just to imitate your adversaries.

Life is filled with “veggie burgers.” People’s attempts at duplicating a thing they don’t even like, just to appeal to people who do like it. But the people who like meat don’t want a thing that’s (in their eyes) almost like meat but worse. I’ve never seen a hardcore carnivore won over by a plant burger. But I’ve seen them absolutely demolish a pizza with peppers and onions on it, in a way that makes me feel strongly like they could live on just that for the rest of their lives.

The point is, if you think your different way is better, then stay different. Sell your ideas based on their own merits, not based on how closely they can come to the ideas you’re trying to defeat.

It’s so easy to put off a major task with smaller, more achievable ones. To some extent, that’s okay – getting anything done is at least forward progress. But remember, you will never run out of small, productive accomplishments within your reach, so it’s very easy to fall into the trap of never making progress on the major thing. Don’t let it loom too long.

When you mix some of yourself into raw materials, you get something more than the finished product you’ve built. There is a difference between buying a chair and building one, an intangible connection that the mind makes to the resulting object. In a technical sense, buying a chair with money you worked for is still “making a chair,” but it’s too many steps removed for the subconscious mind to see in that way. When you really sweat something into existence, your mind also invests value in that thing, value which radiates back outward each time you use it.

So when you build something together with someone else, you get that same intangible investment, only now it’s an inseparable connection between two or more people as well. The car you build with your friend, the house you build with your partner, or the Lego set you build with your son will always carry something a little extra within the confines of its physical space. It will always be a vessel for some of the bond you’ve made. That is a valuable experience.

What works for me won’t always work for everyone, but I find that my “days off” are FAR more relaxing if I actually set some goals and do some projects. If I spend the day just lounging around, I tend to feel worse – more stressed than not. But if I set some goals, I feel great.

They don’t have to be “functional” goals! I’m still talking about fun stuff, just fun stuff with intention. Going for a hike, building something I want for myself, or digging into a pile of books all count.

Our relaxation time needs to charge us and center us. Slugging doesn’t do that for me.

My biggest boy is seven years old today. He’s got a heart of gold, nothing but kindness for everyone he meets. He bends over backwards to make his sisters and cousins laugh, he rescues everyone, and he makes friends instantly. He dreams big and loves bigger. He’s wild and active, an explorer and adventurer to his core. I couldn’t be more proud of the man I’m raising, every single day. Happy Birthday, my best Buddy.

No matter how good an approach is, you can think of an outlier example where it won’t work. You can always find the one odd exception. That doesn’t mean the approach is bad! 100% effectiveness isn’t the standard for improving your life.

Humor will keep someone interested in between places where the words themselves are. Deliver a message by delivering a punchline.

Let’s say you’re in charge of a project or team with a specific goal. Here’s an exercise to give you some incredible clarity and focus as you pursue your objective:

Imagine you have the ability to create a dashboard that gives you the answers, in real time and with perfect accuracy, to any five questions related to the project. What five questions would you plug in?

Here’s an example – I’ve recently started getting into Formula 1 racing. It’s neat! I still don’t know much at all about racecar engineering, driving strategy, etc. But if I was placed in charge of a team right now, I at least know what my goal is: To have one of my cars (every team gets 2) come in first place, and ideally to have both of my cars in the Top Two.

Without knowing anything else, what would I pick as my Top Five Questions? Probably:

1. How long is it taking each car to complete a lap?
2. How long is it taking each car to complete the whole race?
3. What position did we finish in each race?
4. How much time did we gain or lose between each race?
5. What were the road conditions in each race?

With the answers to those five questions accurately displayed for me, I could start making strategic decisions about how our car is designed, how our racing strategy is deployed, et cetera. Now, obviously the actual decisions would be much better if made by someone with real experience, but I would at least not be flying (or driving?) blind.

Often in business, people with great and relevant experience are still letting themselves “fly blind” because they don’t know the answers to the most important questions affecting their project. I’ve met sales leaders who didn’t know how many pitches their salespeople were making. I’ve met project managers who didn’t know how many man-hours were being spent on their projects, or how many were available. I’ve met HR leaders who didn’t know the turnover rates or costs at their companies. It’s rampant, and it makes for poor decisions even if leaders have the relevant expertise to make good ones.

In order to make good decisions, you need to have the expertise and the data. And getting the right data starts with asking the right questions.