I was recently asking a colleague for more data, evidence, and insight on a topic.
They pushed back, and I’m glad they did.
Sometimes the data just doesn’t exist. Sometimes things can’t be reduced to numbers.
Doggedly pursuing more evidence when there is none is just false precision.
It may give us comfort, but it doesn’t take us closer to our goal.
It was devastating to wake up to the Russian invasion of Ukraine.
I can’t even begin to imagine the fear and suffering Ukrainian families are facing right now.
Although I know little about the history and events leading up to this moment, I’m determined to spend the next few days understanding it better. If you happen to have any recommendations of good articles or summaries to read, I’d love if you’d be willing to share them with me. Similarly, I hope to share some resources over the next few days for those of you also trying to learn.
And although I’m unqualified to comment, I feel a deep human responsibility to acknowledge, to sympathise, and to offer my deepest thoughts and prayers to those facing this crisis in Ukraine.
The average non-fiction book is about 50,000 words.
I checked the stats in my blog folder, and I’m just shy of 150,000 words.
I can’t claim to have written three books though. That would require a huge level of commitment to a specific topic, and the insight to hang a set of ideas together in a deliberate way. And I know I’m not there yet.
But it still feels meaningful.
Little by little the words add up.
Although there’s no single post that stands out, it’s the consistency that matters.
I loved this project from Samuel Ryde.
The idea is really simple.
Every day at 12:34, Ryde has an alarm that goes off, and he takes a photo of whatever he’s doing at that moment.
And the purpose of the photo is not to capture the best or most beautiful memory from that day, but rather to capture ordinary, daily life.
It makes a difference looking at his images and knowing they were all taken at exactly the same time of day.
Constraints make us more creative, and they can make the end work more powerful, meaningful, and beautiful.
I also love that Ryde picked 12:34pm for no other reason than it’s the numbers 1, 2, 3, and 4 in sequence.
Ryde has kept his photo-taking streak for 10 years. As someone who is almost 3 years into their blogging streak, I’m inspired because I’ve still got a way to go before I hit that milestone!
A colleague recently shared the idea: “Run towards the pain.”
Of course it’s not universally applicable; that’d be unwise.
But given the right set of circumstances, this is an excellent piece of advice.
Sometimes pain is symptomatic of the most meaningful problem to solve. Other times it will signal that an experience will help us growth at a faster pace, or better prepare us for future challenges.
And if we’re careful to minimise injury—both physical, mental, and emotional—pain can be a fuel, a stimulus, and a catalyst for our betterment.
“Inspiration exists, but it has to find you working” – Picasso
This quote hit different today.
It sums up so much in so few words.
And it reminds me of one of my favourite books: The War of Art by Steven Pressfield.
The crux of his book is that our responsibility is simply to turn up. Over and over and over again. And eventually, the muse arrives.
I love finding hidden gems in London.
It always feels like there’s a quirk, artwork, or piece of history that’s waiting to be discovered.
Today I came across a postage stamp vending machine.
Clearly no longer in use, but still left in its place just outside the post office.
It was less of a reminder, and more of a discovery of what life used to be like.
When letters were the fast form of communication, of course there would’ve been a postage stamp vending machine. I just never considered it.
Perhaps one day people will think the same about our current devices.
When I was a kid, my mum would always buy clothes and shoes in sizes that seemed like four sizes too large.
Some of you may be able to relate. Kids grow so quickly, so why not “buy something that’s going to last a few years.”
I was laughing with mum recently about how some items were worn well before they ever fit—like those clomping, clown-ish, school shoes that had much more than an extra thumb width of space.
But I loved, and still love, the sentiment behind the idea.
Think ahead. Plan for the future. What may be right today may not be the best for tomorrow. Deal with some discomfort now, but it’ll pay off later.
These principles usually hold true.
I may just avoid buying four sizes too large for my own kids.
There are other ways to learn that lesson 😉
Today was the first time in a long time that the number of people in the office outnumbered the number people on video conference.
I’m at the tail end of this persistent cold, so it meant I was one of the few people, if not the only person, who was dialling in remotely for my meetings.
But even from afar, it was great to hear the rumble of chatter and the bubbling energy that’s been missing for so long.
We’re back. It feels normal. And it a great sign of things to come.
This is always a trusty reminder: when working through a complex problem, tricky situation, or tough trade-off, it almost always pays to take a step back and ask “Why?”
We may already know the answer. We may learn something new. Or we may have been so deep in the weeds that we forget there is a larger purpose to the challenge at hand.
This little habit can help us with both making better decisions, and avoiding catastrophic outcomes.
The more meaningful the work, the less we overthink about the small stuff.
So when we overthink, it’s time to look at what we’re working on.
Is it a meaningful, worthy, and fulfilling way to spend the little time we’re given?
There’s been a stunning trend in recent years of musical artists selling their catalogues to labels and investment firms.
Bob Dylan, sold his rights and master recordings for $500 million. Stevie Nicks, sold hers for $100 million. And it isn’t just artists from past generations either. The Killers, Imagine Dragons, and Shakira have done the same.
In return for an eye watering sum, these artists give the new owners the right to licence the songs out to whomever they choose.
The principle behind any good investment is that the net present value of future cash flows will be worth more than the amount paid to buy the asset today. In the case of Bob Dylan, this means Universal and Sony think they’ll make significantly more than the $500 million paid for his music.
I’m no expert in this space, but I think we’ll see a few things happen over the coming years.
1) More and more artists will sell the rights to their music. They’ll receive an immediate, monumental pay day, and forego a set of future cash flows that weren’t guaranteed anyway.
2) There is going to be a tonne more music licensing in the future. The songs of these famous artists will be heard in more places, in more movies, in more advertisements, and at more events than ever before. The buyers have to make back their money somehow. The need to license will likely drive down the price to license a hit song, and create a lot more liquidity in the market. For example, right now I couldn’t upload a video to YouTube with a Bob Dylan song as the background music. In the future, for a few dollars, I may be able to licence any song from his catalogue, or any song from a long list of artists.
I don’t see how Dylan’s catalogue is worth half a billion, but someone does!
Finally, I’m still not convinced if this is artists selling smart, or selling out.
I’ve was unwell this past week. Not COVID, thankfully, but a cold / flu thing.
When I retrace my steps, I can pinpoint a few potential causes.
Travelling from New Zealand to the UK. Jumping straight back into working, exercising, and seeing friends without taking a moment to pause. Additionally, a bunch of cycles and runs in the rainy, windy, cold, winter weather likely weren’t helpful either.
One morning earlier this week, I went to the gym and my trainer said I wasn’t looking too good, but stubborn and committed, I said I was fine, and pushed through.
That evening, I felt rotten.
I didn’t listen to my body, and by exerting myself when my defences were already down, I believe I added a couple of extra days to the recovery required.
I’m really feeling this lesson this week: slow down to speed up.
My prescription sunglasses were useless after my LASIK surgery.
Instead of throwing out the pair, I popped out the lenses, and ordered a non-prescription set from Sunglass Fix.
They’re an Australian-based business that has a “cut on demand” lens service. They have the frame dimensions of thousands of frames and manufacturers, making it super easy to find the right lens/frame combo.
If you still like your frames, but perhaps the lenses are scratched, they provide a great low cost way to get a “new” pair of glasses; without the waste, and without the cost.
I’m a big fan of businesses like this where the idea just makes sense.
I really liked Seth’s post from today.
Here’s a short excerpt: “We were wrong.” Groups rarely say this. They often (and loudly) state “we are right,” but when the future arrives, and it always does, it’s not surprising that it turns out that many projections and predictions turned out to be wrong.
How much better could our work, relationships, friendships, and projects be if we created a safe space to say, “We were wrong”?
And what if we welcomed it? Celebrated it? Normalised it?
Safe spaces may see more mistakes, but they also see more magic.