What Is Long, and What Is Not.

“The NFL isn’t a career — it’s an experience. Most careers last 40-50 years, and people grow old in them.” — Alfred Morris

 
Two things got me thinking:

The first is that quote, at top. It’s from Alfred Morris, the rookie running back for the Washington Redskins. (That’s a photo of him sleeping on the couch. He still sleeps on the couch when he visits his parents.)

NFL players don’t usually have that kind of awareness, but Morris really seems to understand what’s happening in his life. The NFL is something most players have worked for since they hit puberty. It’s all they’ve worked for. The idea that it wouldn’t be forever is…. well, impossible.

Understanding what the NFL is — a job, an experience — and what it is not — a career, a lifestyle — is going to change everything for Morris. It’s going to let him make the most of this incredible opportunity.

But most of us can’t tell the difference between what is big, and what is not. We see a half an inch of water and we tell ourselves we’re going to drown. We hit a bump and think it’s a mountain.

We lack perspective, and that’s one thing we need most to understand the road we’re on and the places we’re headed.

There’s a second thing. I had a Latin teacher in high school, Miss Cherry. One of her quotes comes to mind now: Ars longa, vita brevis.

Art is long, but life is short.

And in high school, I remember thinking: What the hell is that? Art is long?

LONG?!

But that’s exactly what Morris is talking about, too. It’s this idea that some things are forever, and some things fade away.

The memories are long, but the job is short.

The ambitions are long, but the opportunities are short.

We work to build things that are long — but ultimately, the one thing we know is that the chances to make them are short.

Make things now, with the time you have now. To wait is to discover that now is very, very short.

Photo at top of Morris comes via the Washington Post.

Go On.

“There is a direct relationship between your ability to handle uncertainty and your happiness.” — Joshua Fields Millburn

 
We’re all going to make mistakes in our work. We’re going to go directions we didn’t expect. We’re going to make choices we don’t like.

It happens.

But here’s what happens next: It’s normal for us to ask forgiveness of others. We make a wrong choice that hurts someone else, and we tell that person, I’m sorry.

That’s normal.

What doesn’t happen, I’ve found, is that we forgive ourselves for the mistakes we make in our own work. I know I’m guilty of this myself: Something goes wrong in my work, and I won’t let it go for months.

I have to learn how to forgive myself for making the mistakes that I know I’m going to make along the way. Screw ups happen. It’s okay.

And it’s not like the screw ups were in vain. I really have learned from many of my mistakes. They’ve taken me a step further in my work.

Sometimes, I’ll look back on these mistakes with amazement.

You did THAT?

You chose THAT?

You said WHAT?

Yes, mistakes happen. And I know now: Time makes things better. Time lets you move on.

But you have to find ways to move on long before then. Otherwise, your work gets held up along the way.

Life goes on, no matter what the hell you do. It really does.

Give yourself permission to go on, and then get on with it.

I Need A Race.

Superman

“If you’re the smartest person in the room, you need to find a better room.” — Chris Conrey

I’ve been going to the gym for a few weeks now without a goal.

At the gym, especially, goals are huge. Last year, I had the Belly Challenge. And then I had the sprint tri.

Both gave me something to work for. Something to strive for.

Without a goal, I now find myself aimless at the gym, spending 30 minutes on the bike, or 20 minutes on the elliptical, and calling it a workout.

Sometimes, I won’t even break a sweat.

Seriously, Dan?

I need a new race. I need a new challenge.

All of us do, I think.

Without new goals to shoot for, we get stagnant. Our work gets lazy.

If you’re not setting and re-setting the bar, what the hell are you doing? Are you getting better?

I know that right now, I’m not.

So I’m picking a 5k for the spring. I’m giving myself something to shoot for.

I suggest you do the same. We all need a race to run.

Photo at top via.

Waiting Sucks.

“Find what moves you, and move. Find what keeps you up all night, and stay up all night.” — Nicole Antoinette

 
There is so much I want to do this year. So much to take on.

There really is no time to waste.

But more importantly than that: This is no time to wait.

Waiting sucks. Sitting around, waiting for other people/things/events to come around before you can do your work — that’s no good at all.

Or more likely: Waiting for the moment when you give yourself permission to start doing the work — that’s even worse.

So start now. Start with what you have. Start with as little as you need.

Waiting sucks. Find a way to get yourself moving.

What Really Matters.

“To practice courage and compassion is to look at life and the people around us, and to say, ‘I’m all in.'” — Brené Brown

 
What really matters in this life?

People. That’s it.

Get good people in your life. People who lift you up. People who challenge you. People who help make you you.

People matter.

Money, anger, jealousy, things — the rest of it is just filler.

Find good people, and you’ll understand what makes this life all it can be.

What I Really Mean When I Say ‘Fail.’

Don't Stop Believin'

There is a phrase I use a lot. I overuse it. A lot of my friends do, too.

The word is “fail.”

Fail can mean a lot of things. It can mean:

-Go try hard things, and see what works!
-Don’t be afraid to mess up!
-If it doesn’t succeed, that’s okay — it doesn’t mean you’re a failure!

But sometimes, when we just wrap all that in into that one word — fail — we lose a sense of what we’re really trying to say. Sometimes, I’ll find myself telling people that they should be willing to fail, and they think, “Dan doesn’t think I can do it.”

And that’s not it at all! If you’ve got the skill and hustle and the team, you can absolutely pull it off.

So if I’ve told you, “It’s okay to fail” or “Go fail fast,” I’m sorry. I can say it better.

This year, be willing to do difficult things. Be willing to go on adventures where you don’t know the outcome. Be willing to persevere.

Most of all: Be willing to do great work.

Yes, some of the work won’t live up to your standards. Yes, yes, some of the work will take you directions you didn’t intend.

What matters is you and your work, and that you keep going.

The only true failure comes when you decide that the work isn’t worth it anymore.

Everything else is just a stop along the way.

My List of Things for 2013.

Last year, I put together a List of Things for 2012. It wasn’t a bucket list — just a list of things I wanted to make more time for in my day-to-day life.

I had three big things in mind for 2012:

-Travel more — I got out to Austin, New York, New Orleans, Denver and Vancouver. Not bad.
-Speak publicly — I gave a TEDx talk, and I hosted a talk at a big journalism conference.
-Ship things — This one I really took to heart. This year: Tools for Reporters. Very Quotatious. And a whole bunch of Stry.us related stuff.

Now with 2012 almost finished, I’m looking toward 2013. Seven things are on my list:

Build more stuff — with others.
Learn new web tools.
Follow up better (with friends/colleagues).
Spend more time outdoors.
Make more time for art (theater, museums).
Be patient.
Do good.

Most of that stuff is pretty self-explanatory, but to take the final one a step further:

As I look at 2013, I want my work to reflect one thing: A desire to do good for others and our world. I want to make stuff that makes our world more good. And by that, I mean: I want to do work that helps move us forward. I want to do work that makes our world a more pleasant place.

And in everything I do, I want that spirit of “good” to be present.

Doing work is a wonderful thing, but to do work that helps make our world a little better — that’d be amazing.

In 2013, that’s what I’m hoping to do.

Practice Isn’t Optional.

“You really can see what makes up a winner when you put them in a lose lose situation.” — Mike Germano

 
I really like Shaquille O’Neal. I’ve written about him before on the blog. I even created a site inspired by one of his quotes.

But I’ve been reading Phil Jackson’s book about the 2003-2004 Los Angeles Lakers — the team that Jackson coached — and it sheds some interesting light onto Shaq’s behavior.

Here’s a section from part of the Lakers’ playoff run that season. Jackson had been critical of Shaq’s free throw shooting abilities. (That playoffs, he shot 109 of 254 from the line.) Here’s what Jackson had to say about one pre-game effort:

“The press made a big deal out of [Shaq’s] dedication, showing up at the arena today three hours before tip-off to work on his free throws. To me it was no big deal. That was exactly what Shaq, as a professional, should be doing.”

And… he’s absolutely right.

Where else but in sports do we hear about how hard people practice? We don’t praise the coders who spend weekends diving into the craft. We don’t compliment the writer who stays up late working on drafts that never get read.

Look: Great work only comes through hours and hours of practice. It’s not optional. And it’s not something that’s going to earn you a pat on the back.

It’s expected.

Show up early. Practice hard. Get at it.

Today’s a chance to get better.

Say *Something* With Less.

“Be quick, but don’t hurry.” — John Wooden

 
I am guilty.

I have used 50 words where five will do. I have used entire paragraphs when words like “yes” or “no” or “I agree” would have sufficed.

Forgive me, friends. I have not always been brief.

But I am reminded, again and again, that brief can be wonderful.

Here’s Derek Sivers, who delivers a TED talk — and all the inspiration and genius that comes with it — in less than three minutes:

Here’s Patrick Ewing, a tech guy at Twitter, who manages to sum up the way I do work in a single sentence:

Here’s Joel Plaskett, who explains why growing up sucks in a song that clocks in at under two minutes:

The good old days
Well I suppose, I’m glad they’re behind us now
The only thing worse than growing up
Is never quite learning how

So that’s the first thought: We can all be more brief.

Here’s a second: There’s an expression probably you’ve heard before — “Do more with less.” But that’s not quite it.

What matters is not that you do more. It’s that you do something.

It’s not the size of the action that matters — only the action itself.

Do something. Take a baby step. Today, a simple, small thing can be truly powerful.

I’m not entirely sure what’s happening in the photo at top, but it comes via @kitkat_ch.

Three Reasons Why Jimmy V’s ESPYs Speech Is Such An Amazing Display of Public Speaking.

“Don’t give up. Don’t ever give up.” — Jim Valvano

 
I have seen Jim Valvano’s speech at the ESPYs 100 times now. Maybe more. Probably far more, actually.

I’ve seen it on TV, and I’ve watched it for inspiration on my laptop. I once saw it played on the JumboTron at Madison Square Garden — even the beer vendors stopped for 10 minutes to watch.

It is, simply, one of the most marvelous, most inspiring, most deeply human things I have ever seen.

And for people like me — namely, people who enjoy public speaking — it’s a speech that can be watched over and over. I’ve studied it. I’ve wondered: How does he command a room like that? How does he deliver a speech like that?

Three things stand out to me about the speech:

1. His Poise on Stage — People forget this, but at the start of the speech, Jimmy V tells an opening joke about Dick Vitale — and it bombs! But he presses on. His facial expressions, his voice — they never waver in this speech. He demands attention with his voice, and he commands the stage by moving left to right, pointing at the crowd, throwing his arms around. He owns that stage. He’s got a few scripted lines ready, but mostly, he’s talking off the cuff. That really resonates here.

And when the ESPN cameras try to get him off the stage, and he tells them to screw off? That’s a raw moment in which Jimmy V wins the room. That’s the moment when the speech tips from great to epic.

2. His Use of Rhetorical Devices — He does two great things here. The first is his use of the Rutgers anecdote. It takes up the middle chunk of the speech, but it’s got a killer closing line, and it really humanizes him. For a few minutes, you get to forget that this is a guy who’s dying of cancer. For a few minutes, he’s a coach — speaking to a room of athletes and coaches, and a nation of fans watching on TV.

He also breaks out two great sets of three: “If you laugh, you think, you cry, that’s a full day,” and “[Cancer] cannot touch my mind. It cannot touch my heart. It cannot touch my soul.” Orators know: If you want to connect with someone, do it with a series of three.

3. The Call to Action — And here’s what so many speeches miss. So many speakers deliver great moments. They make the audience laugh. They make the audience think.

And then they walk off.

Jimmy V doesn’t. He closes with the biggest thing: A call to action. Donate, he says, to my new foundation. Help us find a cure. It will not save my life, but it may save yours.

Who could say “no” to an ask like that?

A great speech needs an equally great call to action — something that the audience can take on once the speech is over.

The call to action is the reason why ESPN can play this speech every single year during their Jimmy V Week. Every year, even though us sports fans have seen the speech more times than we can count, Jimmy V asks us to donate.

Nearly twenty years after he first gave the speech, we still can’t say no to Jimmy V. The speech is just that great.