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Little Coincidences Are Everywhere.

Red Rocks, in Morrison, Colorad, on June 28

Two of the first people I told about Inbox Collective were my friends Dan and Ryan. I’ve known them since college — we lived on the same floor of the same dorm. We met our very first night at Mizzou. We’ve been close ever since, and they’ve been huge supporters of mine through work ups and downs over the years.

I remember telling them in Chicago three years ago — we’d met up and were en route to a Cubs game. They were surprised by the news, but also excited, and absolutely sure that I’d be able to build this business.

We met up this week in Denver to go to a concert together, and I was reminiscing about our memories of that Chicago visit. It felt like we’d all come a long way from that day.

And then I looked back at my calendar. I felt like I’d told them right before July 4th, so I looked on my calendar for the date when I’d told them the news.

It was exactly three years ago.

The universe is funny like that. Sometimes, by chance, you end up in the same places or with the same people on the same dates, and it feels a little like fate. You just need to keep your eyes open for those little coincidences. They’re everywhere, if you take the time to look for them.

Here’s to good friends, and to good things happening with friends on June 27th.

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That’s a photo of the rocks at Red Rocks, where we saw the show last night.

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We’re Going to Make It Better.

that's a screenshot of the new Inbox Collective site

The new inboxcollective.com will be launching soon. I’ll be the first to tell you: It’s not perfect. There’s a lot it doesn’t do that I want it to do. There’s a lot we still need to figure out around photography, art, and site navigation.

But it’s going to be enough to start. It’ll have interesting stories and sign-up boxes for the newsletter — the essential parts. It’ll have a page explaining how to work with Inbox Collective. It’ll be enough.

It’ll go live, and then we’ll make it better. That’s how projects like these work. You launch, you listen, and then you start working to improve things. 

There’s no need to wait until the site is perfect. If I wait for perfect, I might be waiting a long time. Good enough is good enough for now.

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That’s a screenshot of what the new site will look like.

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When Will You Get To Do This Again? (Part II)

That's a photo my friend, Ian, took at the show. Ian had better seats than we did.

A few months ago, I wrote about living in the moment. “Sometimes,” I wrote, “you’ve got to try something because, honestly, when are you going to get to do it again?”

Sunday was one of those days.

A few months ago, Paul McCartney announced that he was going on tour. One of the dates on a Sunday night in Baltimore. A few childhood friends texted me: Was I in for the show?

Sally and I were — but there was one complication. We’d be coming from a wedding in Connecticut, six states and 300 miles away. It’s a 6-hour drive in normal traffic, but on a summer weekend on I-95, six hours becomes 10 quickly.

We said yes anyway.

Was it a lot of driving? Yes. Did we somehow make it on time? Yes. Were we exhausted by the end of the night? Yes.

Was it worth it to see freaking Paul McCartney play a three-hour, 37-song set? Oh, absolutely.

Sometimes, you have to do something just because you might never get the chance to do it again.

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That’s a photo of Paul on stage in Baltimore. My buddy Ian took the photo. (We had pretty good seats, but Ian had amazing seats.)

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The People Who Help You Along the Way.

a photo I took from my seat as the sun set over Dulles Int'l

A few weeks ago, I had what might seem like the flight experience from hell.

We were flying to San Francisco for a wedding. The flight was at 7 a.m., which meant getting up well before 5 to get to the airport. Even if the flight had gone perfectly, the early wake up meant that I was going to be a little grumpy.

But from the start, everything that day went a little screwy. There was a ton of traffic getting to the airport. The trip from the parking lot to the terminal took forever. We got to check-in exactly one minute late, which meant that we couldn’t check one of our bags, and had to try to sneak a giant bag through security. Our flight had mechanical issues, so we had to make an emergency landing in DC. We got stuck there for 9 hours. The delay took so long, Delta had to fly in a new crew from several different cities just to staff the flight. We didn’t get to San Francisco until nearly midnight — 12 hours after our expected arrival.

And yet, as I think back on that day, all I can think of are the people who helped us along the way.

There was the Delta agent at check-in at JFK, who calmly talked us through what to do even though we were late for check-in.

There was the pilot, who kept us updated about everything happening with the plane.

There was the crew in DC, who ordered pizza for hungry passengers and delivered news, good or bad, whenever they had it.

There was the employee at the airport lounge in DC, who kindly let us bring in a friend from the flight, even though we were only allowed two guests.

There was the TSA agent at Dulles, who let us back through security after we stepped out (unwisely, we later realized) to get some air, even though he had every right to tell us, “Sorry, you have a boarding pass for a different airport. You can’t enter.”

There was the friend on the flight who texted us to come back to the gate after we’d started to seriously consider leaving and staying the night in DC.

There was the crew — based in four different cities — who volunteered to fly to DC to make sure we got to California.

There were a half-dozen different times when the day could have absolutely gone wrong. Instead, at every key moment, we found people willing to help us, even on a day when nothing seemed to go right.

It’s easy to be pessimistic. It’s easy to feel like the world’s fighting against you.

But look around. You might find a few kind people, going well out of their way to help — even on those tough days.

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That’s a photo I took from the runway at Dulles International Airport. That day, I saw the sun rise and the sun set from my seat in coach — on the same plane.

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Don’t Overthink The Name.

that's a photo of the first store, in Sonoma, CA

When I have conversations with writers in advance of the launch of their newsletter, they often worry about the name of the product. They’ll worry that it’s not clever enough, or that it might be too simple, or that they need to spend more time coming up with the perfect name. (I’m guilty of doing this myself.)

So here’s a story for you, if you’re thinking that the name of your next product launch isn’t quite right:

I was in Sonoma, California, a few weeks ago, walking through their downtown, when I passed a store I’ve seen many times before: Williams-Sonoma. If you’ve bought cookware at any point in your life, there’s a decent chance you thought about buying it from Williams-Sonoma.

I’d never thought much about their name before. But walking past the store, I had that moment. Not an “aha!” moment, but an, “Oh, duh!” moment.

The Sonoma in Williams-Sonoma must mean… they were founded here.

So what about the Williams part? There was a small sign right by the door about Chuck Williams — the man who bought a hardware shop in Sonoma, California, in 1956, and turned it into a store for home cooks.

Chuck Williams. Sonoma, California.

Often, keeping things simple is just the easiest decision — it’s also the right decision.

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That’s a photo of the original Williams-Sonoma. That photo was published on their website, and I’m hoping they won’t mind me re-using it here.

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Lessons From 1,000 Blog Posts.

cake and candles

This is the 1,000th blog post I’ve published on danoshinsky.com. How’d I get here?

In 2008, I started publishing on this blog, but I got serious about it in spring 2015. I was doing less writing at work, and wanted to make sure I always made time to write.

So every week since, I’ve found something to write. Some are inspired by a conversation I’ve had, or something I’ve read, or something in the news, or something happening at work. When I first started writing, I worried I’d eventually run out of post ideas, but for seven years, I’ve always found something to write about. (There’s always more to say, it turns out.)

Some of these blog posts are good, but many are not. And that’s OK! In a year, if I publish a handful of really good ones, I’m thrilled.

So how do you get to 1,000 posts? You pick a routine, and stick with it.

Mine is simple: I write, and write often.

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That photo of a cake and candles comes via Unsplash and April Pethybridge.

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You Can.

You can make a choice to do something different.

You can go back to school, even when everyone around you wonders, “Why leave a good job?”

You can commit to learning something new, even when it’s hard. (Especially when it’s hard.)

You can build an amazing support system of family, friends, and teachers to help you through the process.

You can spend your free weekend hours studying at the library, even when your friends beg you to come out for a drink.

You can get through the doubts and the struggle. You might get knocked on your butt a few times, but you can get through it.

You can find a way — through the slog of tests and classes, and the setbacks, and even a pandemic — to reinvent yourself in a brand new career.

You can get a great new job, and do amazing work helping others.

You can, because I just watched you do it — and come out stronger on the other side.

Congratulations, Sally. You can — and you did.

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You’re Never Going to Be Perfect.

that's me, standing over a golf ball on a recent round of 18 holes

There’s a lot that’s frustrating about being human, but here’s one thing that’s annoyed me a lot lately: You’re not always at your best.

There are days you show up to do the work, and things feel a little off. It doesn’t matter what the work is — it could be a project, or a big piece of writing, or a day on the golf course. Some days, you show up and know you’re not quite right, even if things felt amazing the last time you showed up to do this work.

It’s hard to accept that your body feels a little different today, that your mind’s in a different place, that your energy’s different than usual. Maybe you know why, or maybe you don’t. But you know, because you know yourself:

Today will be less than perfect.

I like being at my best. I like how confident I feel when I know that I’m doing my best work.

But there’s something to be said for getting through those days when you’re at 70%, when it’s not all there. You make the most of what you can with what you have that day. You find a way.

Accept less-than-perfect for today. Better days will come. 

———

Naturally, that post was inspired by a morning on the golf course. The day before, I hit the ball so well and felt confident over every shot. The next day, it looked like I’d never hit a golf ball before. It happens. 

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Know Who’s In Your Corner

Every year, I meet up with my buddy Aaron for what we call our corporate retreat. We both started indie consulting businesses in 2019 — Aaron works in PR and communications, and I work in email. We’ve both been figuring it out as we go. This trip is our opportunity to catch up, play a little golf, and talk about where we’re going with our businesses.

I feel so lucky to have someone like Aaron in my corner, someone who’s building a similar business and in a similar place in his career trajectory. When I have a question about bringing on freelance help for a specific project, I can call Aaron to hear what he’s learned about working with freelancers. When I have a question about setting the right price for a contract with a potential client, he can offer feedback. The relationship goes both ways: He often checks in with questions to get my thoughts. And when we hit certain milestones or have a big win, we’ll share those with one another and cheer each other on.

I’m running a one-person business, but I know that I can’t do this alone. I’m grateful to the people I have in my corner, like Aaron, who help keep me and this business moving forward.

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That’s me and Aaron, at right, (and our friend, Lou, who came along for the retreat weekend).

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Find a Way to Give Back.

food ready for donation at a food bank in Australia

When you make a donation to a nonprofit, you’ll probably get this message afterward: Does your company match donations? Check and see if you can double your impact today!

Inbox Collective, sadly, is probably a long way away from being able to do that.

Still, it always feels good to find ways to give back. Here are three I’ve been doing a lot of during the pandemic:

1.) Find an organization to volunteer with — I’ve been volunteering with Invisible Hands, a nonprofit here in New York that delivers groceries to needy families. I have a car, so it’s easy to take a few hours on a Saturday, pick up groceries, and drop them off to families in need. (And, during the pandemic, it’s felt like a safe way to help out my neighbors.) If you’re looking for volunteer opportunities, check out Idealist — you’ll find organizations near you that are looking for volunteers.

2) Donate blood — Finding time to give back can be a challenge, but donating blood is one way to help that doesn’t require a ton of time, and there’s probably a Red Cross drive happening near you this week. Donating costs nothing, usually takes less than 30 minutes, and might save someone’s life.

3) Donate to causes you care about — During the pandemic, I was so moved by stories about food banks that helped millions of Americans put food on the table during a time of need. So I made donating to food banks one of my core causes. Every time we travel somewhere, I find a local food bank in that area, using Feeding America‘s site, and donate whatever I can to the cause. 

Give what you can when you can. Everyone wants to be able to do more — but whatever you can do right now, it’s more than enough.

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That photo of donations at a food bank in Australia was taken by Nico Smit for Unsplash.

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