Be Willing to Get Lost.

A splash of white light on an otherwise darkened staircase.

I read Andrew Leland’s new book, “The Country of the Blind,” this week. It’s a memoir about a writer who has been slowly losing his sight over the previous decades, and he uses the book to better understand life as a blind person in the United States. It’s a fascinating read, and a reminder of just how much sight shapes the way I think about the world. (Even in trying to write that last sentence, the first three phrases that came to mind — “a glimpse into Leland’s life,” “an illuminating read,” “an eye-opening experience” — all reflect a bias towards sight.)

One chapter towards the end of the book truly struck me. Leland visits the Colorado Center for the Blind, a place where members of the blind community stay for months as they learn new skills, from woodworking to cooking to navigating the outside world. Leland meets a younger student at the Center, Ahmed, who offers some advice about how to get around as a blind person:

The single most important skill for blind travel, Ahmed later told me, is that “you have to be willing to get lost, and be confident in your ability to figure it out.” In the early days of his blindness, he once took three hours to traverse a route that would have taken him five minutes with a sighted guide. Eventually he got better at navigating Washington, DC, learning the direction of traffic, the patterns of certain stoplights, the way the sound of another person’s footsteps changes as they begin descending a set of stairs. In Colorado, he learned to use cardinal directions, and can now often figure out which way he’s facing from the feeling of the sun on his face. But, he added, “it’s not like once you leave [the Colorado Center for the Blind], you’ll never get lost again.” … Getting lost is not always comfortable, or pleasant, but it is an organic and fundamental part of the human experience. The more one is able to accept it, rather than fight it, the more skillful one becomes in one’s travels.

Later in the chapter, Leland describes the experience of Ahmed and two other students heading to a local store. As Leland writes, not only do Ahmed and his classmates make it to their destination safely, but Ahmed is so comfortable on the walk that he does some it while walking backwards!

Anyway, I’ll be thinking about this line for the rest of the day: “You have to be willing to get lost, and be confident in your ability to figure it out.”

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That photo of a darkened staircase comes via Unsplash and photographer Carolina Pimenta.

I Am Not The Wolf.

I was rewatching “Pulp Fiction” on a flight the other day. My favorite chapter of that movie is the scene with Winston Wolf, the fixer. Vincent Vega and Jules Winfield get themselves into hot water, and The Wolf gets them out of it.

And I was struck by a thought, rewatching it, that a lot of people think that my job at Inbox Collective is basically that of The Wolf.

Some teams come to me thinking that I’ve got all the answers or magic fixes. I often do not.

What do I actually do? A good advisor isn’t there to have all the answers. My job is to help you ask the right questions — and figure out how to find the answers together.

I’ll admit, it’d be fun to be The Wolf, to be able to come in, survey the situation, and identify a quick fix.

But my job, if I do it well, is to do more than fix the glaring short-term issues. I’m here to help teams build the right strategy in the long term.

All of that starts, not by having all the answers, but by figuring out the right questions.

Break Down the Results When It’s Over.

Missouri celebrates their Cotton Bowl victory on the field

It’s easy to jump to conclusions too quickly.

Last night, I went to the Cotton Bowl in Arlington, Texas, to see my Missouri Tigers play Ohio State. Through the first 40 minutes or so, there wasn’t a lot to get excited about. Ohio State led 3-0 at halftime. Missouri could barely move the ball on offense. There were a lot of Missouri fans near us who were angry, distraught, or dismayed. (Many were all three.)

And then, in the final 20 minutes, everything flipped. Missouri scored a touchdown, then scored another, then forced a fumble to put the game away. Final score: 14-3, Missouri.

My analysis of the game looked a lot different after 60 minutes of football instead of just 40 minutes.

It’s a reminder for me, whether you’re watching football or working on a new project, that there’s a tendency to decide that things are over a little too soon. I know I’ve been guilty of declaring that something won’t work — even if I don’t have the data I really need to make that decision.

Often, the right move is it let everything play out. Once you have all the data, then you can look at what happened, break down the numbers, and decide what to do next.

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That’s the photo I took of the post-game celebration at the Cotton Bowl.

The Work is Never Done.

The chambers of the Economic and Social Council, with its unfinished ceiling.

For the past decade, I’ve lived just a few blocks away from the United Nations. And yet, until this week, I’d never actually been inside.

If you’re visiting New York, the UN is worth a visit. It’s tough to visit the UN and not feel a little bit optimistic about the future of the world. Diplomacy is never easy, and yes, we’ve got massive global challenges ahead of us, but it’s amazing to visit a place where all the countries of the world have come together to try to solve big problems. World hunger, nuclear disarmament, climate change — the world gathers here, at a campus on 1st Avenue, to try to find the answers.

I was familiar with a lot of the places we saw on the tour. I’d seen the big Assembly Hall on the news. I’d seen photos of delegates sitting around the table of the Security Council Chamber. But there were a few rooms I’d never seen.

One was the chamber for the Economic and Social Council. The room was designed in 1952 from Swedish architect Svem Markelius.

It’s a beautiful room, featuring wood from Swedish forests. But there’s one particularly unique feature of the room: The ceiling is unfinished.

That’s on purpose, our tour guide informed us. It’s a subtle reminder: The ceiling is unfinished because the work of the UN will always be unfinished. There will always be more to do.

Here’s to whatever work and whatever challenges lie in the year ahead.

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I took that photo of the Economic and Social Council chamber on a visit to the UN.

Some Things Are Just Different.

If you’ve spent any time with me in New York, I’ve probably taken you to Breads Bakery.

Breads opened a decade ago, and as you’d guess by the name, they make fantastic breads: Ornate challahs, delicious croissants, and amazing black and white cookies. But the showstopper at Breads is the chocolate babka, layered with Nutella and dark chocolate. Bring one home, throw it in the microwave for 15 seconds, and you’ve got something close to perfection.

There are other babkas in New York. Some are quite good. But Breads exists on a different level. It’s the kind of babka that’s worth a 30-minute trip, each way, just to get your hands on it.

Not everything is worth the money or the time. I think about that a lot with the stuff I’m working on. It can be tough to know what tools to use or which projects to prioritize. With whatever you’re working on, it helps to have people in your corner who can tell you when something’s worth the trouble. But when you hear from folks that something is worth it, you always make time for it.

(And if you’re at Breads, the chocolate rugelach is great, too.)

Good Advice Can Come From Anywhere.

A few weeks after Ben was born, we hired a photographer to take photos of our newly-expanded family. Midway through the photo shoot, Ben got hungry and started to fuss. I grabbed a bottle to feed him, and the photographer followed along to take a few shots of us together.

When it came time to burp Ben, I put him into the position I’d been shown at the hospital: His chest on my shoulder, with me gently patting his back. But I couldn’t get a burp out.

“Would you like me to show you how I do it with my kids?” the photographer asked. It turned out she had four young kids, so she’d had plenty of practice.

I immediately handed over Ben, and watched as she propped him up on her knee, tilted him gently forward, and placed her hand on his chest.

Before she could even pat his back, Ben let out a massive belch. Naturally, that position became my go-to any time I needed to burp my son.

It was a reminder that day: Good advice and ideas can come from anywhere. You just have to be willing to make space and listen.

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That photo of lightbulbs comes via Unsplash and photographer Daniele Franchi.

People Remember The Little Things.

Here's the note from Delta. In part, it reads: "We appreciate your loyalty, and wishing you and your family an amazing day."

On a Delta flight today, the flight attendant stopped by my row. “Mr. Oshinsky,” she said. “We wanted to thank you for your loyalty.” And then she handed me the note above.

“Aww, that’s nice,” I thought.

A few minutes later, the flight attendant stopped at the row in front of me and handed another passenger a similar handwritten note.

“Aww, that’s so kind,” she said.

And then I saw the flight attendant do the same for someone else a few rows ahead of me, and then for the passenger sitting beside me. All gave a big smile after reading it.

The notes were a tiny gesture — but the fact that someone took the time to hand write a few words of thanks felt meaningful. Had I gotten that exact same message in a marketing email from Delta, it probably would’ve felt far less powerful. The medium — a hand-written note — changed everything.

Those little things get remembered. Those little gestures often feel extra meaningful.

Sometimes, it’s a small act of kindness. Sometimes, it’s someone taking the time to make sure you feel seen and heard.

Whatever you do, do the big things well. But don’t forget about the little moments, too.

Only the Prepared Can Be Spontaneous.

Daddy walking his baby in a stroller in front of one of Stockholm's emblematic creamy façades in Södermalm.

One funny lesson from parenthood: In order to be spontaneous with the baby, we’ve learned we first have to be prepared.

Whenever we get home from being out with the baby, the first thing we do is prep the stroller to go out again. We’ll restock the diaper bag with new diapers and wipes. We’ll make sure all the stuff we need to feed the baby is clean and ready to go. We’ll add a fresh outfit to his bag if he wore the last one we’d packed.

Why? Because we want to be able to be spontaneous. We want to be able to meet friends out for a last-minute drink. We want to be able to go for a long walk in the park. We want to be able to stay out a little longer than we expected with the baby.

But that starts by being prepared. Imagine being out and about and wanting to do something spur-of-the-moment — but realizing that you’ve left a few key things at home? You’re probably not staying out — you’re heading home right away, and probably not heading back out.

I always want to be a more spontaneous person. But having a baby’s reminded me: The only way to be truly spontaneous is to be prepared for anything.

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That photo of a stroller — which, I’ll note, doesn’t seem to have anything packed underneath — comes via José Jóvena and Unsplash.

Get the First Win.

This is a photo of white golf balls and red, white, and blue golf tees on a driving range.

I went to the driving range once and found myself next to a couple that was playing golf for the first time. They had an instructor with them, and within the first minutes of the lesson, he was walking them through the complex biomechanics of the swing. He was telling them that there were more than three dozen different parts of the swing, all of which had to work together. He was giving them tips from professional golfers. He was getting into the mental side of the game.

In the hour alongside them, I didn’t see either of them swing the club a single time. The entire lesson was on golf theory.

And I remember thinking: These people will never come back and try to play again — because they never had that first win.

Golf can be a frustrating game, and yes, a really good swing is a complex thing, but the reason you come back is because of the feeling that happens when you hit a really good shot. That feeling — the sound off of the club, the whoosh of the ball in the air, seeing the ball fly — is what every golfer chases. You come back to try to recreate that feeling, over and over again. Those first-time golfers weren’t going to hit a drive 250 yards or experience a perfect wedge shot, but they never even got the chance to try.

With anything you’re doing for the first time, you’re chasing that first win.

Maybe that first win is the first time someone compliments your work.

Maybe it’s the first dollar you make.

Maybe it’s the first time a lesson starts to click.

The goal is to get that first win as soon as you can. Because once you’ve gotten that first win, you’ve experienced a taste of what the work is for — and can decide whether you want to come back for more.

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That’s a photo of golf balls and tees at a driving range. It was taken by Robert Ruggiero for Unsplash.

Let Everyone In.

Here's a photo I took during “Born to Run” at the Bruce Springsteen & The E Street Band show on April 9, 2023, at UBS Arena. The house lights are up, and you can see the entire crowd dance and sing during the performance.

We saw Bruce Springsteen & The E Street Band last week, and there’s a cool moment in the encore that Bruce and the band do at every show. Throughout the concert, the house lights are down, with just the spotlights on the band. But right as they break into “Born to Run,” the house lights go up — suddenly, you can see every single person in the arena.

And since the song is “Born to Run,” every person in the arena loses their damn mind. People spill out into the aisles, singing and dancing along. If you want to understand the concept of “dancing like no one’s watching,” go to a Springsteen show and wait for the lights to come up. You’ll see 20,000 people leaning into that mantra.

What I love most about it, though, is that it shifts the perspective of the show. For 2+ hours, you’re standing in darkness, watching Springsteen and the band perform. And when the lights come up, it all changes: Suddenly, the crowd is part of the show. Their dancing, their singing — it’s part of the performance. And as the crowd gets into their role, you can see people around the arena starting to loosen up. Seeing so many others dance freely and sing at the top of their lungs gives them permission to do the same.

Would “Born to Run” be the same if the house lights stayed down? It’d still be a great moment during the show, but it’d be different — it wouldn’t be a shared performance. What makes it special is that everyone gets to be part of it.

There are moments when you want others to join in. There are moments that you want to share with the crowd. Recognize them. Turn the lights up.

Let everyone in.

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That’s a photo I took of the crowd at UBS Arena, on April 9, 2023, during the performance of “Born to Run” at the Bruce Springsteen & The E Street Band show.