Make the Most Of This.

Red gondolas pass through snowy peaks and evergreen trees on a snowy day in Park City, Utah.

During the pandemic, when we were living on the coast in North Carolina, I started going to the beach every single day. The weather wasn’t always great, but every day that it was safe to go in the ocean, even when the water was cold, I went in. Sometimes, it was just for a minute or two. But I had this realization that there might not be another time in my life that I lived minutes from the beach, and I didn’t want to miss a single day. I didn’t want to let that moment pass me by.

We’ve since gone from the beach to the mountains. There is snow in my driveway right now, and the ski slopes will open this weekend. So here’s my pledge:

I don’t know if Park City is a place where we’ll spend two years or 20. But I live five minutes from the base of the mountain, and I know that’s probably not going to be something I can say forever. I intend to make the most of it.

And any time I’m making a choice that takes me away from getting outside and doing something in the mountains — particularly on those half-day Fridays or a weekend — I need to remind myself: Make this most of this, Dan. Who knows how long it lasts.

———

That photo of the gondola passing over snowy mountains and trees — I’m pretty sure it’s the Red Pine Gondola, over at the Canyons — comes via Mollie Moran and Unsplash.

Do a Little Extra.

I tried a little experiment in my newsletter today. At the top of the email, I wrote:

I’ve found LinkedIn to be a useful channel for meeting new folks and discovering interesting newsletter content, and I’d love if you connected with me there. But if you do, will you also attach a note to your connection request? I accept pretty much every request as long as they add a note…

I got about 20 requests on LinkedIn today. Of them, seven had a note attached.

I find that to be amazing. I don’t personally know most of the people making these requests — I hadn’t met one in person, to my knowledge, and in many cases, I hadn’t even received a previous email from them! Why would I connect with someone who I don’t even casually know?

I think part of this is how LinkedIn is set up. It’s really easy to send a connection request without adding a note. (In fact, I did that this evening — I clicked the button to connect but it didn’t pop up with the ability to send a message.) I’m also a little bummed — if I knew that these folks were definitely readers, I’d happily connect with them.

I know some people on LinkedIn hate all the notes because they feel obligated to reply to each one. (I usually reply with a “thanks, and thanks for reading!” Takes two seconds to do so.) But the little bit extra goes a long way — at least in my book.

———

That’s the basic LinkedIn request form: “How do you know this person?” The screenshot is from Barry Schwartz and is re-used here thanks to a Creative Commons license.

I Don’t Know Yet.

Election Day was Tuesday, and the results are still rolling in. We know who the President will be, and we know who will control the Senate. The House is still up for grabs, and two toss-up Senate seats are not yet called, as well as many other local races around the country.

And yet, 48 hours later, I’m seeing a lot of pieces offering explanations as to what happened and why.

So what happened?

The truth is, we don’t really know yet. Most of the data — not just votes, but the behind-the-scenes data that can inform why people voted the way they did — isn’t in. We might not know for a while why the results were what they were.

I understand the desire to rush to provide answers. It’s frustrating to have to wait to understand something that just happened.

But what often happens is that the wrong lessons pop-up in the few days after the election, and those stick around even when they’re later proven inaccurate. I’d rather wait — the data, however long it takes, will help us understand what’s really going on (and what might happen next).

This is one of those cases where the only right answer — in the short-term, at least — might be to say, “I don’t know yet.”

———

That photo of the red and blue of states on the electoral college map comes via Clay Banks and Unsplash.

Look for the Big Tree.

Twenty years ago or so, my family took a vacation to Costa Rica. We rented a car to drive to this park that we were going to visit.

We didn’t have iPhones or Google Maps or GPS. We’d never been to Costa Rica before.

What we did have, from the travel agent who helped us book the trip, was a printed-out set of instructions to get to the hotel. We were mostly traveling on two-lane roads to the park — not the kind of roads that have big signs pointing you where to go. So instead of the instructions you’d expect — “Travel 10 miles down Highway 1, take a left at Highway 17, continue on for 12 miles…” — what we got was a bit more abstract.

I remember the very first instruction vividly: We were told to drive about 15 minutes down the road and take a left at the big tree.

I was in the front seat, and my dad was driving. So as we drove, we kept an eye on the clock. 15 minutes seemed a bit unclear — did we think Costa Ricans drove faster than the speed limit or at a more average speed? (Were there speed limits?) And how big was this big tree? We drove down the road looking at each tree we spotted. Was this tree big enough? What about that one?

And eventually, some 20 or 25 minutes later, we came to a fork in the road. And there, dead ahead, was a very big tree.

We took the left.

I don’t remember how long it took to get to our destination. But I do remember being amazed that we got there at all, especially considering the directions we had. They weren’t what I was used to, but they were enough to get us there.

Point is: There are a lot of ways to get to where you want to go.

———

That photo of green and red trees along the blue Costa Rican coastline was taken by Max Bender for Unsplash.

Do Your Prep Every Single Time.

I did a stupid thing today.

I was driving down with my son to pick up my wife at the airport. It’s an easy drive — 35 minutes, especially on a low-traffic day like a Sunday. There was no one on the road when we left home. We left two hours early so I could run a few errands beforehand. I was already thinking about activities to fill all the extra time we might have.

The drive was going fine — until it wasn’t. About two miles before the highway exited the canyon out into Salt Lake City, we hit a standstill. What we didn’t know was that an 18-wheeler had crashed, and the road was completely closed. It would take officials nearly eight hours to re-open the road.

I almost always check Google Maps before we leave, just to make sure there’s no traffic to be aware of. Had I done that today, it would’ve re-routed me to an alternate road. That trip to Salt Lake would’ve taken an extra 15 minutes.

I didn’t, though.

Instead, we got stuck in traffic for over an hour. Luckily, after a whole lot of waiting, police were able to route smaller vehicles like mine over a bridge and to an alternate route. We did make it to the airport for pick-up — it just took two hours for what should’ve been a 35-minute trip. Even more luckily: My son napped through most of the traffic.

Still, it was a reminder: No matter matter how many times you’ve done something before, you still should go through your routine. A five-second check of Google Maps would’ve saved me 90 minutes.

Next time, even if it’s the 1,000th time I’ve done something, I’ll still make sure to check.

———

That’s the photo I took while stopped in the canyon on I-80 today. We saw a out of red lights for a very long time. I’m grateful we didn’t have to sit there for 8 hours — I’m not sure what we would’ve done!

Always Be Moving Forward.

A concrete staircase, with a wooden railing on the right and brown spots on the stairs and walls.

Sometimes, when I’m on a road trip with the family, Google Maps will say that we’ve got two choices: We can stay on the highway and get to our destination in, say, 20 minutes, but things will be super slow due to an accident ahead; or we can get off the highway, driving at 25 or 35 miles per hour on a local road, and also get there in 20 minutes. The ETA doesn’t change — but with the local road, at least we’re not at a standstill.

When given that choice, my wife always chooses the local road. She always wants to be moving.

I was thinking about that recently while talking with a client. They were a little bit frustrated about the pace of progress with their work. They have a few big projects in the queue, but they need help from some colleagues to get those projects to the finish line, and that means a few more weeks (or months!) of work. They lamented the fact that they weren’t moving faster.

And I reminded them: There’s still stuff in their control that they can tackle sooner rather than later. Yes, those tasks might be a bit smaller, but getting them done would represent forward progress

A baby step is still a step in the right direction.

Everyone wants to move fast, but sometimes, that’s not an option. So if you have the chance to take a step forward, no matter how big, take it.

———

That photo of a white, concrete staircase in Italy comes via Gabriella Clare Marino for Unsplash.

Start Anywhere.

I ask myself this a few times a quarter when projects start to pile up: I’ve got a lots of things to tackle. Where should I start?

And the truth is: You can start anywhere — as long as you start.

I know I can find myself paralyzed by all those choices. Instead of getting stuff done, I end up worrying about all the stuff I have to get done. (And then I find myself with a lot less time to actually do the things I need to do!)

Don’t worry about finding the perfect starting place. The end result is far more important than where you start.

Start somewhere, and go from there.

———

That’s a photo of an American Airlines jet taking off, with pink flowers blurred in the foreground and the moon behind. It was taken by Sachin Amjhad for Unsplash.

Don’t Miss An Opportunity to Miss an Opportunity.

I read this line in a New Yorker article, and I haven’t stopped thinking about it since: “They never miss an opportunity to miss an opportunity.”

There have been so many times when I’ve showed up for something without knowing exactly what I might get out it. I didn’t want to miss out on something, even if I wasn’t sure what it was! When you show up, you don’t always stumble into something good — but sometimes, you do. (Case in point: My MLK Day story.)

Point is: There are certain opportunities that only come along when you take the time to show up. Don’t miss the opportunity to miss an opportunity. Just show up and see what presents itself.

———

That’s a photo of a departures board with flights from Singapore’s airport to destinations around Asia. It seemed as appropriate a photo for the “show up” message as any. It was taken by Benjamin Wong for Unsplash.

Just Fix This One Thing.

It’s been a busy week. We went to a wedding last weekend and are going to another in 48 hours. I’ve got some new clients starting this month, a few talks coming up, and generally just a lot of work happening. It’s a ton for a small business like mine — and of course, having a 1-year-old at home adds a whole lot to your plate.

So I really could’ve done without coming home on Sunday night to find that the garage door opener wasn’t working. it was just one thing too much for me to handle — the classic straw that broke the camel’s back.

I got myself twisted in knots for a few minutes about the garage door opener. I procrastinated for a day and got myself more angry about it. Really? Now this? And then I stopped spinning my wheels and decided to fix just the one thing.

I went to YouTube (bless you, YouTube), and found a tutorial. Two minutes later, I’d fixed the garage door. (Turns out it was a super simple fix. I literally just had to push a button.)

I still have a mountain of work to do. But just getting that one tiny task completed felt like a victory. I did this one thing — I can do the rest.

I didn’t need to do it all. I just needed to take care of that one thing.

———

That photo of a pale yellow garage door, with shadows creeping up the wall, was taken by Tim Mossholder for Unsplash.

The Second Why.

One funny thing about becoming a dad is watching how kids start to process the world. What I’ve noticed is that nobody — not even professional reporters — ask as many questions as little kids.

It’s one thing for a parent to get the initial question: “Why’s the sky blue, dad?”

The parent will give the answer. But then they’ll ask a second question: “Why?” And then a third or a fourth why.

It’s funny: In a certain way, kids are often more curious than a lot of the working professionals I know. I’m guilty of this myself: I might ask “why” once to a colleague or client, but if a satisfactory answer is provided, I won’t dig deeper.

And I want to challenge myself to be prepared for that second why. I want to be prepared to know more, to go deeper.

If I’m asked or if I’m not, I should be prepared to defend what I know — or at least be prepared to give more than the surface-level answer.

———

That’s a photo of a young girl with brown hair reading, as the pages of a book flip before her. It was taken by Johnny McClung for Unsplash.