You’re Allowed to Delegate.

Here's a photo of a laundry basket. Ours is white, not blue, but you get the idea.

Sally and I are on vacation this week, but I’m thinking back to the days before we left.

I had a busy week last week: A big presentation, a dozen calls, work on a few new articles for the site, and a lot of emails to deal with. I’m often busy, but this was more than usual.

And in the 48 hours before we left, with Sally working back-to-back days, I was trying to do everything: All of the work, plus all of the packing, laundry, and cleaning. I don’t get visibly stressed too often, but I was last week. (Just re-writing this, I’m feeling the stress levels rise again!)

So Sally reminded me: It’s OK to delegate. No, she can’t take on my work, but she’ll always have the time to help with errands or tasks around the house. Yes, she’s also busy, but no, that doesn’t mean I have to do everything.

It was a reminder I needed to hear. I don’t have to be Superman — I can share the load with her. There’s no award for doing it all; there are just consequences.

The next time the work piles up, see if you can find a way to share the responsibility and take a little off your plate. You don’t need to do 120 percent of the work. In the long run, you can’t.

———

That photo of a laundry basket comes via Annie Spratt and Unsplash.

I’ve Been So Lucky.

I’ve been exceptionally lucky in my life in so many ways. I was thinking about this yesterday after hearing the news that David Crosby had died, at age 81.

I spent the morning listening to some of Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young’s biggest hits: “Carry On,” “Woodstock,” “Teach Your Children,” “Suite: Judy Blue Eyes,” “Ohio.” I was thinking about how amazing it would’ve been to have seen them live.

And that’s when I remembered: Two decades ago, I had.

It was my sophomore year of college. CSNY had reunited and was doing a tour full of protest songs about the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq. St. Louis was the second-to-last stop on the tour, and since I was just two hours down the road in Columbia, MO, my roommate and I drove out to see them.

I remember they did two sets — the first full of newer protest songs (“Let’s Impeach the President,” “Military Madness”), and the second full of hits (“Southern Cross,” “Rockin’ in the Free World”). They were men of the ‘60s who also happened to be, at that moment, in their 60s. I remember talking through the first set, and loving the second one. I remember that it was a beautiful fall night in St. Louis.

It was a great night of music, but there have been a lot of those over the last twenty years: Springsteen, McCartney, U2, Paul Simon, Joni Mitchell.

I know how lucky I’ve been. I’ve gotten the chance to see great artists, to go amazing places, to meet incredible people.

Is there more out there? Sure, I hope so.

But I’ve been lucky, a thousand times over. I don’t think I could ask for more.

———

At top, that’s a video of David Crosby performing “Ohio” at Newport Folk Festival in 2018. I wasn’t there that year, but true to the title of this post, I’m a lucky guy — I got to go in 2022.

You’ll Figure It Out.

This is Capital One Arena, where the Washington Capitals play.

I went to see my Washington Capitals play last night. The team is in an interesting place this season: They’ve got a ton of veteran players who were part of the Stanley Cup run from 2018, several young players who’ve been impressive this year, and a few players who are coming back from injuries. The coach, Peter Laviolette, has some real choices to make when setting his lineup.

And at the game last night, everyone around me had an opinion about who should start, who should sit, and which players should be playing together. If I’d polled the fans within earshot of me, I think I would’ve gotten a dozen different answers. Everyone had an opinion, and no one was happy. (The Caps lost to the rival Philadelphia Flyers, 3-1.)

But the thing I kept telling my neighbors was: There’s a long way to go in the season. It’s not the playoffs yet, and not even the stretch run leading up to the playoffs. The season’s barely halfway done. So the team has some time to figure out the answers.

It can feel like you’re in a rush to get to an answer. But there’s no rush here — the direction you’re headed is more important than the speed at which you get there.

Try a lot of things, and see what sticks. In the end, if you’re patient, you’ll figure it out.

(The Caps, hopefully, will too.)

———

That photo of a Caps game was taken by Alex Korolkoff for Unsplash.

Stop Stomping Around. Go Do The Work.

That's an alarm clock and a calendar, overlaid on a pink background.

There’s this story Mel Brooks tells about writing the title song for his movie, “The Twelve Chairs”:

“I was gonna get somebody to do the title of ‘The Twelve Chairs,’ and Anne [Bancroft, Brooks’s wife] said, ‘No, you’re a songwriter. Go up to the attic and don’t come down until you have a version of the title song for ‘The Twelve Chairs.’ ’ So I went up to the attic, walked around for a while until I’m sure she could hear me. And then I got an idea, and I sat down, and three or four hours later, I came down with ‘Hope For The Best, Expect The Worst‘ [which became the title track].”

I had one of those moments this week. I’d been procrastinating on a big project. It was one of those days where I was crossing stuff off on my to-do list, which made it feel like I was getting stuff done, but really, I was doing other work to avoid the big thing I knew I had to do.

And then Sally, who’s wonderful at holding me accountable, told me directly and sternly: “Go to your office and do your work.”

It was just what I needed. Everyone needs someone to hold them accountable from time to time.

So I went to my office, and a few hours later, came out with a finished project.

——

That photo of a clock is what comes up when you search for “deadline” on Unsplash. It was taken by Towfiqu barbhuiya.

What Are You In Such a Rush For?

That’s a photo of a jam-packed First Avenue here in New York City

When I talk with a prospective new client, they almost always tell me: We want to grow as much as possible, as quickly as possible.

And that’s natural — but my follow-up question is usually: Why?

If you’ve got the team in place, and the strategy in place, I understand the need to grow, and grow quickly — you’re trying to reach a level of scale where your business can flourish.

But so many of the teams I talk to aren’t there yet. They don’t have the team yet. They don’t have the strategy yet.

And in those cases, growth shouldn’t be the top priority. Their priority should be growing their audience to the point where they can prove out their editorial concept and business model. Only once they’ve done that should they shift into growth mode.

Yes, growth always sounds great. But maybe it’s worth asking yourself: What are we in such a rush for?

———

That’s a photo of a jam-packed First Avenue here in New York City. It was taken by Lerone Pieters for Unsplash.

A Wish for the Year Ahead.

That's a photo of three people clinking champagne classes while setting off sparklers. Seems like a lot for a toast, but then again, I've never tried to do both at once!

As we wrap up 2022 and look towards the new year, I wanted to say a few words:

As we shift out of a “We’re actively living through a pandemic” mindset and into whatever’s next (more of an “I guess I might get COVID but it’s not my no. 1 fear” mindset), I’ve noticed something: We’re as busy as ever.

There are so many commitments we’ve jammed back onto our calendars, from stuff we have to do (appointments, meetings) to stuff we want to do (dinner with friends, nights out) to stuff we feel like we need to do (keeping up with the new show that everyone’s talking about). In 2020 and 2021, time moved slowly; in 2022, time seemed to move at 2x/speed.

There’s a lot I’m sure you want to do in 2023. You’ve got goals and adventures and all sorts of things on your to-do list. And my wish for you is simple: I hope you find ways to make time for all the things you want to do.

You can’t do everything — but I hope you find ways to make time for the things you truly care about.

Here’s to a 2023 filled with things you love.

Cheers.

———

That’s a photo from Unsplash, taken by photographer Kateryna Hliznitsova.

You Know More Than You Might Admit.

That's a photo of a WordPress screen with various plugins. It's not from my site.

I’ve been helping one of my writers out recently, and they asked a question: Dan, any chance you know how to fix this little WordPress issue that’s been bothering us?

I’ve got this very site on WordPress, and Inbox Collective runs on WordPress, so I know a bit. I told them I couldn’t promise anything, but I’d be happy to give the issue a look.

And then, over the course of the next hour, we managed to fix that issue — plus a handful of other WordPress issues that had been bugging them for a while.

Does it mean I’m suddenly giving up email and going into WordPress design now? Oh, absolutely not. I still barely know anything about this platform.

But I know enough to share and to help — at least sometimes. And on the right day, that might be enough.

———

That photo of a WordPress site (not mine) comes via Stephen Phillips and Unsplash.

Make It Work For You.

That's a photo of a Brother typewriter, in teal and black.

I’ve been working with a few newsletter writers who are in a period of transition. For nearly two years, they’d been writing multiple newsletters per week. Now, they’re all trying to figure out what to do next. Should they write more, or less? Should they change the way they monetize?

And my advice, over and over, has been simple: Whatever you do choose to do next, make it work for you.

There isn’t a single way forward here. There is no one-size-fits-all answer.

Which means that the right answer, for now, is the one that works for each of these writers. It’s up to them to figure out what they want to build and how they want to build it. There’s no need to build around someone else’s constraints or rules — they’re free to do what’s best for them.

Maybe that means, as I told one writer, telling their readers that they’d be taking a month off in December so they can get ahead for 2023 and pre-write the first few months of newsletters. “I’m allowed to do that?” they asked me.

You are, I told them, because this is all about making it work for you.

Maybe it means changing up the way they monetize. One writer’s been trying to push forward with a paid subscription, but it isn’t working as well as they hoped. But they do have a fairly large, engaged audience. Advertising might be a better way forward for them.

“Can I just cancel the paid offering and switch businesses models?” they asked me.

You can, I said, because if you’re going to make this work, it first needs to work for you.

What’s the best route forward? Figure out what’s best for you , and work from there.

–––

That’s a photo of a Brother typewriter, in teal and black. It comes via photographer Laura Rivera and Unsplash.

Heads Up.

People walk down the sidewalk in Manhattan

I keep thinking about this thing I saw a few weeks ago in New York.

I was walking down the sidewalk, and as I looked ahead, I saw something I’d never seen before: A young woman was reading a book while she walked. And this wasn’t some act of passive reading — her face was buried in the book.

It was hard to miss. She almost walked directly into me — I had to slide out of the way to avoid her. (She didn’t seem to notice.)

I know people are busy. I know everyone’s trying to get the most out of their day. But not every activity is one that allows for multi-tasking.

If you truly care about something, you’ve got to make time for it. Maybe that means putting down your phone before bed and picking up a book. Maybe it means blocking out time on your calendar to read. Maybe it means subtracting something — fewer after-work drinks, more reading. Or maybe it means finding ways to responsibility multi-task. (Audiobooks are great for the commute!)

And if you’re walking through New York City, please: Walk responsibly.

———

That photo of a Manhattan sidewalk comes via Dominik Leiner for Unsplash.

Be Thankful For the Little Things.

That's a photo of the Statue of Liberty, with the port in Jersey behind it, at sunset.

I was driving back to New York a few weeks ago. It was one of those days where a 90-minute drive was somehow taking close to three hours. And on the way out of town at the start of the trip, I’d gotten stuck in traffic getting through the tunnel — the same 90-minute drive took nearly four hours.

I was a little sour on New York at that moment. The city can be such a wonderful place to live, but there are parts of it — the traffic is certainly one — that can be so frustrating. Wasting a weekend in traffic made me wonder why I was living here.

I was on a stretch of highway leading through Jersey City and towards the Holland Tunnel. It’s an interesting part of the road — you’re driving among tall buildings, with even taller buildings in downtown New York looming behind.

And then there’s one little window between the buildings where suddenly, you can see the Statue of Liberty emerge. You can’t see the river — just the statue, poking up like a part of the skyline.

It reminded me: Sometimes, you have to go through a lot of everything — work and struggle and crap and things you really don’t want to do — in order to find the stuff that makes it all worthwhile.

The special stuff is out there. You just have to make sure you’re looking for it.

———

That photo of the Statue of Liberty, with the port in Jersey behind it, is by Oliver Plattner for Unsplash.