You cannot ask people to act against themselves. People can sacrifice, yes. But they will not oppose their fundamental needs. If you build your plan assuming they will, your plan will fail.

The rock. The hard place.

There’s no middle path, sometimes. Impossible choices still need to be made. What do you do then?

It’s helpful to imagine myself on the opposite side of my own desk. I get stressed and frustrated and stuck, the same as anyone. A big part of my job is helping other people get un-stressed, un-frustrated, and un-stuck in exactly the same kinds of circumstances. So when that happens to me, I can run myself through my own process.

Because it is a process. There are systematic steps to take. Reflection, contextualization, research, planning, action.

1. Reflection. Why am I stuck? What have I tried? What’s holding me back? Get answers, challenge them for honesty, get better answers.
2. Contextualization. Where does this problem fit in the overall goal? Go big. Look at the whole picture. Is this even a real problem? Is the solution somewhere else on the map?
3. Research. Okay, now I know where I am, where I want to be, and what’s in between. Time to look for solutions that have worked for others in the past, best practices, tips and tricks. The world is full of knowledge, and I don’t have to reinvent every wheel.
4. Planning. Now I know what I need to do, more or less, to get to Point B. So I plan out the individual steps and get to work.
5. Action. I do the steps, I iterate when things need adjusting, and I get where I need to go.

Walking other people through this process doesn’t even require that they know about it. It’s just a series of questions I ask, challenges I make, support I offer. Some part of it is getting people emotionally safe enough to see it, being a hype-man or a shoulder to lean on as the case warrants. When it’s me, I can cut through a lot of that.

(Tangent: I once reached out to a really great manager, who had helped me like this many times before, for help. He was very busy, but still took my call. When I explained my problem, he said: “You know me pretty well, you can probably guess all the things I’ll say here, right? So just pretend I said them and skip to the part where you feel better.” It was amazing, and it worked incredibly well as a way of empowering me to grow beyond needing him as a crutch. I’ll always be grateful for that moment, and I do that to myself frequently now.)

The only important thing is to remember that I have a process. When it’s me who’s stuck, it can be a tricky, hidden fact. But the process works; that’s why I use it.

Take pride in your work, not your profession. How you manage your money is more important than how you get it, and what you do with it is even more important than that. Stay humble, and never look down on an honest day’s work.

I truly don’t know if I’d love camping as much as I do if my father hadn’t taken me. Maybe I’d have naturally enjoyed it just as much if I’d gone for the first time when I was 30, who knows? But I enjoy it immensely now, and every time I set foot in the wilds I think of him.

Yesterday I took all three of my children on an overnight camping trip. Our first one all together. They loved it as much as I did – as much as I do, still. They asked me if we could go again soon, and if we could go more often, and when the next time we could go was.

I don’t know the long-term effects of my choices or my actions. No one can know such things. But now, in this moment, my family is good, and I am with them, and I love them so.

Give your caring to those who can receive it. When you spend effort and emotion, make sure there is someone to accept the payment. The people in your reach need you more than you know. That’s where it belongs.

Often the way to solve a sticky problem is to ignore it for a bit and work on something energizing. The creative juices flow again, and you come back to the original problem with renewed clarity. It helps to get “unstuck.”

Sometimes it can feel difficult to do that, especially when many interrelated problems are all especially thorny or you have multiple areas of your life that bring you stress today. But I promise, there is some corner of your life, however small and dusty, that has something you can take action on and improve in a simple way, right now. It could be as simple as cleaning your toilet, but it’s still progress.

Don’t run from stress, but sometimes a tactical retreat to regroup is just fine.

The source of all anxiety is looking at things you can’t touch. Touch is the cure for anxiety; if you can interact with something, physically move it or speak to it or draw on it, then it ceases to be something that hijacks your amygdala.

That sensation you feel, when you feel anxious? That’s supposed to be a set of chemicals and impulses that help you deal with the problem. It gives you the alertness to find an escape route or the strength to fight or even the social impulse to befriend. But it’s reactive. Something frightens you, and that part of your brain goes “Oh, you seem to have a problem! Here’s a bunch of brain juice that will help you solve it.”

But if you can’t solve it? Then you just keep that feeling, and your brain just keeps pumping in more jitter-juice and you overload. That stuff is meant to come in short bursts.

In the days when we evolved this particular function of our brains, there was no such thing as a non-immediate problem. Our savanna ancestors didn’t think about things like the state of a distant world or a looming proposal at work. The sorts of problems we evolved that response to deal with are all problems that would be dealt with swiftly, and then the panic would recede until it was needed again.

Listen to me. You are not meant to panic all the time. And if you are, it’s not a disorder or a psychological problem. It’s a very expected response to a really terrible behavior that most modern people have adopted, which is paying attention to problems you can’t solve, all the goddamned time.

Look, your brain can’t tell the difference between a tiger and a really realistic video of a tiger, which is why scary movies work on us even though we know they’re movies. So when you look at a picture of a problem that would be really, really concerning if it was happening right in front of you, your brain reacts the same way. But unlike the problem in front of you, you can’t actually respond to the distant one. So it never gets solved, so you never stop panicking. You can’t fight, can’t take flight. You just soak in the jitter-juice.

You need to stop.

I know this is hard. For one, when there’s a tiger in front of you the last thing your brain wants to hear is “just ignore the tiger.” For two, things like “doomscrolling” and other ways we let our lives become flooded with distant fear-generating scenarios are downright addictive for many. And for three, a whole lot of people have figured out that numbers One and Two mean that they can make a lot of money or gain a lot of influence by constantly feeding you this stuff.

But despite all that, you need to do it. You need to stop allowing that stuff to constantly hijack your brain. If you don’t, it’s just anxiety all the time, forever. In order to get rid of anxiety, you need to be able to solve problems. And this is one you can really, truly solve.

Sometimes, when there are many paths in front of me, I feel scrambled. I imagine deadlines where there aren’t any, and I feel a sort of pressure that is entirely self-imposed. I don’t want to be scrambled. I want to be over easy.

Here is what I do:

1. Choose actions that can benefit the largest number of possible paths. For example, taking on a few freelance clients to save extra money will be pretty much universally helpful, regardless of what I end up investing that money in.
2. Remember that time passes no matter what, and as long as I’m not backsliding I’m moving toward my goals, because I’ve already done number 1.
3. While time passes, don’t ignore it. My life is very good now, regardless of what I want to build for the future. I have incredible children, and spending time with them is a joy. No matter what else I’m doing, that’s my “why.” So take it while I have it!

These three things calm me considerably. And being calm lets me think more clearly, which lets me take the actions I want to take. It can sometimes feel like the long way around, but that can be the surer path.

As a leader, you have to conduct yourself in a way that sets the expectations of what acceptable behavior looks like. More than telling people how to behave, you have to show them by how you behave.

I’m thinking specifically as a parent, but this applies in just about every circumstance where you’re influencing the behavior of others. It’s not just about the example you set, either. Yes, you need to “walk the walk,” so to speak. But you also need to teach behaviors that go beyond that.

You need to be a gently padded brick wall. What I often see leaders acting like instead is a spiky sponge.

What is a spiky sponge? It’s someone who barks but yields. They may yell, threaten, or even strike physically. But they’re also inconsistent, threats are often idle, and they’ll yield if they get frustrated. They try to lead through intimidation but often their main motivation is to make their own life easier.

Instead, you need to be a gently padded brick wall. You need to be kind in your demeanor, forgiving of errors, and welcoming to questions. But you must also be firm, consistent, and patient. People can bounce off you all day without hurting themselves, but they won’t move you. They know they won’t be hurt by you, but they also know that your values won’t be compromised.

Being the latter takes patience and confidence, both of which come from reflection. Be sure of your methods by researching, practicing, and being willing to adapt. Test your values and your ideas so that you are confident they’ll support the gently padded brick wall you’re building on their foundation.