For someone who likes the finer things as much as I do, I see value in needing less. Overhead is a son of a gun, and I’m cognizant of the fact that what we expect to “have” can inflate over the years.
Especially considering the reality that as we get older, we hope to progress, earn more, do more, have more free time, etc etc etc.
Where we are now is a springboard for a better tomorrow. The question seems to be, “what do we have to do or not do, to sustain the types of lives we want for ourselves and our families?”
Budgets work in two directions and getting caught up in the maelstrom of things is a temptation most of us relate to. Needing less has to do with being intentional about how we spend our money, and perhaps having that awareness allows us to be more conscious about why we buy in and to what end.
What’s more, forgoing a few things to ensure we have more time is a trade most of us would be willing to make.
The thing about doing something new is that there’s inherently more risk. There’s no data as to whether or not it will work, not to mention the fact that this new path also needs to be messaged decently to catch on.
The cutting edge is sharp because that’s where we make new things, whether art, businesses, products, communities, or projects.
The thing is, it’s less and less sharp the more we add skills that increase our ability to be creative in building new solutions. Specificity is important, but so is uncharted territory.
As long as we add more paintbrushes to our toolkit, the cutting edge is a great place to be.
(It’s also where the most upside tends to reside.)
Authenticity and positioning don’t always have to run counter to each other. We can be our real selves while also making sure we’re not valuing responsiveness more than making, building, or organizing.
As someone who is very expressive, I tend to give too much away. I tend to respond too quickly, which in business can indicate to whomever you’re relating to that their time is more valuable than yours.
Since time is an increasingly valuable quantity in my mind, I’ve been thinking a lot about when I do what I do (as per a recent post), thus prioritizing my own production and workflow while staying responsive – just not immediately, responsive.
If we’re positioning, it’s easy to lose our authenticity. Ego games and the rest. But we don’t have to. We can be fair to ourselves by making sure OUR WORK gets done, while simultaneously offering the level of service, care, personality, & mission that levels up everything we do.
Prioritizing the making, building, and organizing ensures that we contribute our best.
If we do, that’s all the leverage we’ll ever need.
We usually think of our lives from one semi-cohesive vantage point. The plot, characters, and themes are the same, and we use those experiences to auto-extrapolate a way of being in the world.
We react to a certain type of comment or input in pretty similar ways.
In that sense, what we offer is often the same. The energy, presence, or contribution we have carries a certain vibration and has its own tenor.
If we’re putting the same thing in, we’re probably getting the same thing out.
So lets test. Let’s try approaching a certain type of situation in a different way, look at the data, and compare it to what we normally experience, social testing in that we switch up the equation.
Both in our overall offering and the possibilities that open up as a result.
P.s. I’m working on a rhetorical pivot that is all about changing one element of the equation and seeing what the data tells me. I’ll keep ya posted.
myatribe – when our contribution to someone else’s comment reflexively shifts back to a theme, topic, or opinion that we currently ascribe to. Real listening isn’t happening, and the other person in the dialogue is rendered unimportant, insofar that they have merely paved the way for us to come back to our thesis of choice.
We’ve all done it, some less opaquely than others, and it’s the product of a species of restlessness; an energy which is single-minded and often well-intended but functionally precludes real connection. If the subject at hand is something directly mentioned by our conversation partner, then by all means, we should add, brainstorm, and contribute.
But if we can hear our inner monologue interrupt real listening when the subject is unrelated, it’s time we cultivate the skill to sit back, listen, and forgo our latest rant.
It seems appropriate, if only on balance, but it might also help us prove that our presence isn’t a one-way street.
Whether we’re too far inside our own heads or overly transactional, either approach seems destined for black holes.
Here’s to squashing our next myatribe.
And here’s to taking my own advice.
I recently started working with a coach to do some distilling and processing in an effort to think about how I might be limiting myself, or how I might be operating from places that serve me and others less, or impede growth.
I’ve been using the word “uplevel” as the most concise way of describing how I’m thinking about the process.
I’ve been fueling my body better and being intentional about health and fitness, and whether it’s physical wellness or mental and emotional wellness, I realize that to show up, serve, produce, and provide the way I want to, that I can’t just wing it.
I can’t just assume that the how is going to sort itself out in any catalytic way if I’m not being intentional about it.
As I discussed with Lindsey last night over the dirtiest of martinis, there’s just no substitute for intentionality.
P.s. I’d love to hear what you’re trying to be more intentional about. And whether you reply to this email or share it with someone else, an example of intentionality seems like a worthwhile offering.