The unwelcome truth is likely the message we most need to hear.
But it’s these truths that we’re used to ignoring because they’re hard to hear, and often require an arduous and uphill battle.
But what would happen if we learned welcomed these unwelcome truths. How much faster would we learn, grow, and improve?
I love this clip of Freddie Mercury and Brian May in the studio working on the song One Vision.
In the first few seconds, Freddie says, “You can do better.”
The pair then spend the next few minutes trying new sounds and approaches.
What I love about it is the respect and trust between the two musicians, as well as the lack of ego. Hard feedback doesn’t have to taste like vinegar when both people know the criticism is levied at the work, not at the person.
Pre-pandemic, my 08:10 Southbound on the London Tube used to be packed to the brim. People would squish and squeeze into the last bits of remaining space in each carriage. And it would remain like that all the way into town.
It was even worse on rainy mornings. People who travel by bike now took the train. And the soaking umbrellas took up space and left the floors of the carriage a sopping mess.
I took the 08:10 train this morning and braced for a crammed, unpleasant journey. But I was so happy to be wrong. It was spacious, calm, and comfortable.
My guess is hybrid work not only impacts how often people choose to go into the office, but also gives them the flexibility to stay home on days when the weather is foul and the commute is a real pain. This leads to a much calmer commute for those travelling on rainy days.
I’m not complaining!
When we’re beginners, we’re thinking about the next best move.
When we’re approaching mastery, we’re thinking multiple moves ahead, we’re considering actions within a larger system, and we’re pattern matching on the fly.
When we’re a beginner we shouldn’t worry that we’re not yet proficient. There’s many patterns we have yet to observe. Just give it time and deliberate practise.
Maru and I began watching one of the more recent Spider-Man films—a tastefully animated adventure where Peter Parker mentors the “new” Spider-Man, Miles Morales.
As the character shot his webs and flung himself about the screen, I couldn’t help but remember one of the first posts on this blog about Stan Lee, the creator of Spider-Man, and how we almost missed out on this fantastic superhero.
It’s true, and it still baffles me, most people don’t like spiders, so we shouldn’t love Spider-Man, yet he’s the most famous and loved superhero by an order of magnitude.
I only get to see my nephew for a few weeks a year. When we get time together, we like to wrestle, pretend we’re superheroes, and play with water guns in the pool.
I recently saw some advice on playtime with kids, and it changed my perspective on how I want to spend time with my nephew. Kids have little control over their day. They’re often running to their parent’s schedules, and are told what to do and when. That’s normal.
But playtime is their time. That’s when they get to create the rules. That’s when their whims and dreams get to take centre stage. We shouldn’t quiz them on what to character to play or what activity to do next, we just need to let them lead, never laugh at the weird and wacky ideas, and go along for the ride.
Multitasking is a myth.
Or just for superhumans.
I’m not one though.
I needed this reminder today.
I found 3-4 chocolate truffles in the freezer yesterday. They were stored in a little jar. Individually wrapped.
I asked Maru, “What are these?”
Maru replied, “They were a gift. But I’m saving those for my mum when she visits later this year. She loves truffles.”
Love is truffles in the freezer.
“Don’t mistake motion for progress.”
The calendar may be full. There’s probably a new plan, post, or pivot each day. The team meet and nod in agreement about what must be done.
But is there real progress? Are we actually any closer to our goals?
I didn’t know Boston Dynamics—the robotics company—has been around since the 1980s.
They only came to my attention, and much of the world’s attention, in the mid-2010s with their robots capable of autonomously lifting and moving objects. At this point people could start to piece together what role these robots could play in the automation of work.
However, this impressive video really shows the development and improvement of their robots over the past 40 years; it’s beyond impressive.
It reminded me of the saying that an overnight success takes decades.
Last week I posted about how I had iPod nostalgia. Over the weekend, I was surprised—and delighted—to see an older gentleman with discman nostalgia.
He sat looking out the window of a cafe, headphones over his ears and plugged into his discman. He had a set of CDs in his bag that he would take out to change album.
He didn’t look at his phone. He wasn’t there with anyone else. He was simply enjoying his coffee whilst listening to his favourite albums in their entirety.
If you didn’t know there was a second act, you’d lament the fortune of the lead character.
Thankfully, the intermission is just a short break.
So don’t walk out after the first act—a first attempt at something new, the first milestone in a larger project, or a first impression of a stranger.
After the intermission comes the second act, and the resolution.
“I’m certain.”
“I’m probably right.”
“I’m likely wrong.”
“I’m just guessing.”
When everyone has an opinion, listen carefully to the folks who are open about their doubts, and be wary of the people who claim certainty.
It’s been 4 years of daily writing!
Thank you for joining me on this journey. I love receiving your replies—the cheeky ones, the ones that tell me I’m wrong, and the ones where you let me know a post has been helpful. It means a tonne!
I’ll be honest, I’ve found the last year of writing harder than the first three. At times I’ve questioned my own motivations and whether I want to continue.
I don’t like doing anything half-heartedly, but I also think it’s natural for motivation to ebb and flow over a four year period. It’s ultimately a commitment and aspirational discipline that’s kept me going at times when I didn’t want to.
My formula hasn’t changed since day one though: show up, be curious, notice things, and share them in the most generous way possible.
Let’s keep going!
When you’re on shore, you can look at the forecast, you can see the grey clouds rolling in, and you can make a decision to stay on land or venture out.
When you’re out at sea and far from land, no matter the size of the swell, the lashing wind, or the brewing storm, you need to sail through.
Most of life’s decisions are made from shore. But there will be a few moments and situations where we’re far out at sea. Knowing whether we’re on shore or at sea has a big impact on how we act.
In particular, we don’t need to press on when we don’t have to. There’ll be another day with clear skies.