Notes

"It all comes down to getting the right people in the right seats." (Gino Wickman, Traction)

Before deciding whether or not you have the right people, take a closer look at the seats.

You hired them because you saw something special. Are they able to flex their unique ability in their current position?

You were excited for them to join because you saw their potential. Are you giving them the opportunities and support needed to reach it?

The hardest part is getting started.
The hardest part is navigating curveballs.
The hardest part is pushing through plateaus.
The hardest part is knowing when you're finished.
The hardest part is acknowledging the fruits of your labor.
The hardest part is seeing the win, even when you've lost.

The hardest part only grows harder when I label it that way. In moments of defeat, I think that life would be better if I could only get through to the other side. Then, if I do, the other side has a new set of challenges.

I'm always practicing how not to get hung up on "the hardest part" because I know it will change with every step forward. In that way, the hardest part is just another part of the process.

If you're like me, and catch yourself labeling challenges, try to resist the urge. Focus on finding your groove. Understand the process. Practice. Show up. Show up again and again.

The hardest parts are no match for perseverance and consistency.

"This week flew by."

"Wow. It felt like this week lasted a lifetime."

"Was that Monday? That seems like ages ago."

"I can't believe it's already been a year."

Time is constant, yet it always feels like it's moving fast or slow. Our commitments, hopes, and fears shape our perceptions.

We cannot control time; but we can control our relationship with it. We can recognize its rhythm and design our world to get in sync. Or we can ride the wave, always falling behind or racing to catch up.

"You should be far more concerned with your current trajectory than with your current results." (James Clear, Atomic Habits)

For the last week, I've been visiting with family in a suburb outside of London. At times, it's been a challenge to keep up with my daily habits, but I've been able to stick with many of them, like reading, writing, and journaling. That said, my exercise regimen, diet, and alcohol consumption have gone by the wayside, by choice.

I've opted to maximize the time to play with my nieces and nephews rather than find time to exercise. I've opted to indulge in one or two sticky toffee puddings with family instead of prioritizing my diet. (It's delicious, by the way.) I've opted to toast with a classic gin and tonic instead of sticking with water. What feels good, though, is that I feel in control. I'm not concerned with how these decisions might impact my life in the near term because I know I'm still on track; my current trajectory is looking good long-term.

I'm excited to continue enjoying what's left of this trip and then hitting the ground running when I return home.

While it's good to be future-oriented and set big goals, we can't forget to be present. When we become obsessed with achieving an outcome, we risk missing what's right in front of us.

"We think we need more and don’t realize we already have so much. We work so hard “for our families” that we don’t notice the contradiction—that it’s because of work that we never see them." (Ryan Holiday, Stillness Is the Key)

Always a welcome reminder; for now, and the future.

While your client may be one of many, to them, you're the only one. Embrace the latter; never give them a reason to be reminded of the former.

"If your shoulder starts to hurt while doing a push-up, the first thing you will do is start making some adjustments to your form. This happens spontaneously and unconsciously. You might slow your speed, move your hands a little bit further apart, or adjust your trunk angle. After a few repetitions of playing around, the shoulder now feels comfortable. Now imagine you are in a class with an instructor telling you exactly how you need to be moving, prescribing the “correct” hand placement, technique, sets and reps. Or worse yet, telling you that you need to stop moving right away and go to the doc. This might inhibit the natural tinkering process that would have solved the problem." (Todd Hargrove, Playing With Movement)

As a manager, it’s natural to want to step in when we see an employee struggling. We know we can leverage our experience to make their lives easier. The trouble is what happens later when we’re not there to provide a step-by-step. They freeze, worrying about remembering the steps instead of feeling out the situation, asking questions, and making their way. The best thing we can do as managers is to teach the fundamentals, leaving enough room for employees to tinker and figure out their version of solving the problem.

The other day, I inflated a balancing disc my mother-in-law got me to keep my feet occupied while sitting at my desk. It's also fun to use for practice balance during a workout. Anyway, as I was nearing the end of inflating it, I noticed it became difficult to see progress in how inflated it was and determine if it was complete.

I'm not sure what it is was about this simple experience, but it made me think about growth in various parts of my life. It was a reminder to keep working toward my goals, even during periods that feel stagnant. Often, you're on the brink of something special, and all you need to do is keep pushing through.

I wonder if we don't ask for feedback more frequently because we don't want the burden of addressing it, not because we're afraid to hear it. When we receive critical feedback, it is natural to feel pressure; pressure to make abrupt changes and find solutions immediately. Rarely does this work or lead to lasting change. Meaningful growth takes time, patience, and discipline.

One of our maxims at Barrel is "all feedback is information." When you look at feedback through this lens, it seems silly for us not to crave feedback daily if we're serious about our growth.

Whether positive or critical, feedback is information that we do not have access to on our own about our work, way of being, and performance. It helps us better understand ourselves and how we interact with the world around us. We can choose to resist it, but the fact is that the feedback, or the way others perceive us, is not reliant on whether or not we are willing to face it.

I like to think of feedback as fuel for new ideas about how I can be better. Even when it's regarding a positive trait or behavior, how can I do this more? What is it about this that I can bring to other areas of my performance?

When receiving feedback, listen closely and take notes. Maybe you disagree with the feedback and feel you need to speak up. Or, there's missing context, and you need to fill in the gaps. If you do either, the chances are that the feedback giver will shut down, and you will lose access to the precious information that they are offering you. That sounds likes a loss to me.

If we agree that feedback is nothing more than information, the best thing we can do is be curious when we receive it, hungry to understand. As you listen to the feedback, ask questions to gain more context. Try to put yourself in the feedback giver's shoes and understand their perspective fully. You said that you feel like you're unable to make your own decisions; do you feel like I trust you? If not, what about our relationship makes you feel that way?

Equipped with notes, take time to reflect. What are the few things you can do today, tomorrow, this week to show even 1% improvement in the key areas? Remember, meaningful change doesn't happen overnight. Sort through the details, prioritize, and keep on keeping on!

In my newsletter this week, I explored the benefits of inviting a reset to routine. Barrel CEO and fellow partner Peter Kang responded to the email with a response that I think captures it perfectly: "Love the reset mindset!! Turning curveball into a home run!" Watching Peter become a father two times over and manage to keep up with his routine has been inspiring to witness. A practice I aim to embody as a father someday.

There have certainly been curveballs with my recent relocation. Rather than force my old routine or dwell on the fact that I'm off track, I have come to welcome these curveballs with open arms and see what opportunities they present.

Since Monday, I've adopted a 9 am to 5 pm work schedule, fully embracing the new work hours options we rolled out this week to give the team more flexibility across time zones. This structural adjustment to my day has opened the doors for me to redesign my routine.

What I've loved the most so far is the quiet time in the morning to think and explore ideas, an activity I used to embark on toward the end of the day. There's clarity of mind in the morning that is hard to capture at the end of the workday.

I start my day by writing in my journal before checking my phone or engaging with the world. Then, I get ready, completing my Readwise Daily Review while brushing my teeth. Then, I head up to my office to read for 30 minutes.

Over the last couple of months, I stopped reading in the morning and transitioned to getting it done just before bed. While I enjoyed how reading provided a calming moment before sleep, I find that reading paired with the other morning rituals is powerful for generating ideas and easing into the day.

After reading, the goal is to write and think. If I'm lucky, I'll get my daily note completed. For the last two days, this has not been the case; instead, I ended up drafting two longer pieces that I'm eager to continue exploring. One of which will likely become next week's newsletter!

By 10 am (when I used to begin working), I feel a sense of accomplishment heading into the day. My vision for the future is for the morning to continue to be a sacred time for deep thinking and long-term planning.

“Without great solitude, no serious work is possible.” (Pablo Picasso)

When the day ends at 5 pm, I try to jump right into a workout and get the body moving. Someday I may try to exercise in the morning, but for now, I still find early evening workouts to be an effective way to release the body and mind from the events of the day and enter the evening with renewed energy.

What I find fascinating is that while these activities are all slight adjustments from my old routine, the change in timing has already proven to make a profound difference. In the past, there were many days where I felt trapped by my daily rituals. I'd stay up late to get my reading in or have to skip working out so I could make dinner. Now, by 6 pm, my goal is to have all my daily rituals completed, leaving ample time to do whatever I want until my head hits the pillow. This feeling is freeing, and the joy it brings is priceless.

"To some, routine can sound like where creativity and innovation go to die—the ultimate exercise in boredom. We even use the word as a synonym for pallid and bland, as in “It has just become routine for me.” And routines can indeed become this—the wrong routines. But the right routines can actually enhance innovation and creativity by giving us the equivalent of an energy rebate. Instead of spending our limited supply of discipline on making the same decisions again and again, embedding our decisions into our routine allows us to channel that discipline toward some other essential activity." (Greg McKeown, Essentialism)

Easier said than done.

However, if you can describe the steps and imagine the outcome, how hard can it be? Are you passionate enough to take the first step? Courageous enough to see where it leads us?

If the answer is no, who cares how easy it is to say? It must not be worthwhile pursuing.

I have this theory that many of the perceived challenges of remote work are gaps that have always existed but have become illuminated now that we can't run over to a coworker's desk in the middle of the day.

Last week, we hosted our quarterly town hall and monthly team meeting. For these team-wide meetings, we enjoy experimenting with new formats regularly. Our focus is on hosting meetings that feel more like a team-wide dialogue than a formal presentation.

Back in the office days, we didn't talk about team meeting engagement nearly as much as we do as a remote-first company. Now, we're hard on ourselves when less than a few people participate. We use this as fuel by asking for feedback and identifying areas to improve the next time around.

From that perspective, I think our team-wide meetings have only gotten better since going remote. We used to rely on non-verbals and laughter to gauge engagement. These days, with Zoom and the need for muting, this can be a challenge.

This constraint has forced us to think more deeply about our time together. Here are a few changes from the last several months:

• Roll out straightforward updates via email memo (introducing a new role, work hours updates, etc.)
• Email team ahead of meeting to let them know what we're covering and give them time to think/prepare when necessary
• Feedback forms, especially when experimenting with new workshops

My brother, Nick, had a friend growing up who could never hang out when he had one “big” event going on that day, a family dinner, going to the DMV, decorating the Christmas tree, etc. It frustrated Nick. He wondered what happened to the other 13 or so hours of the day.

I find myself guilty of this mindset now and then, despite knowing how silly it is. When there is something "big" I need to get done, my instinct can be to clear the day to make room for it. Otherwise, I worry that I will not have the time to reach completion.

The truth, though, is that I do this when I have no plan. I want to clear my day because I cannot see the path to completion. Without that clarity, I let the one  "big" task takes precedence over everything else.

In these moments, I remind myself to pause, thinking through how to spend my time. Then, getting clear on what completion looks like at every stage of the process. Rather than losing a whole day to write my newsletter, I focus on when I want to have a concept, first draft, and final edit. This simple step puts my mind at ease and frees up space to focus on other important areas of life.

I wonder if Nick's friend was a poor planner or just needed clarity on a few details for his "big" event to make better use of his day.

Inspired by The Path of Least Resistance by Robert Fritz, I've enjoyed thinking about this question lately: If all of your problems disappeared tomorrow, what would you want?‍

When your problems frame your vision, you create imaginary barriers around your future.

What do you really want?

We've all met someone who "thought of that" invention before it hit the market and became wildly successful. I'm not that person, but I do have a story.

When I was in first, maybe second grade, I was crazy about skateboarding. So much so that my sixth-grade assessment topic was "the history of skateboarding." I can still remember the poster board of painted red bricks. Anyway, I digress. I wanted to keep skating while at school, and I couldn't, so I decided to create a mini version of my skateboard.

I cut index cards into the shape of a skateboard, filled the bottom layer with glue, and folded up the sides so my fingers could stay attached. Then, I waited for the glue to dry and become firm before adding artwork to the bottom. The final touch was wrapping the entire thing in tape, my version of waterproofing.

These glue-filled boards were all the rage among my friends. I started making them for kids on the playground, custom artwork included. I can't remember if I charged them or not, but I want to say that a "skateboard" was 25 cents.

In 2008, Tech Deck hit the scene, and I was out of business. If you ask my Dad today, he'll tell you that he still gets sick thinking about this.

If you can't beat them, join them. I joined the Tech Deck movement and pivoted my "business." If you're not familiar with Tech Deck, their skateboards are identical, miniature copies of real skateboards, wheels, trucks, hardware, and all. I'll admit, I still find them super cool.

Tech Deck boards were so realistic, I dreamed of having a mini version of my skateboard. Turns out, so did all the other kids, but naturally, Tech Deck didn't have every skateboard you could buy in real life (especially the more budget-friendly boards I owned).

Fairly new to the power of the internet, I logged on to CCS.com, learned how to resize the image of my board (in MS Paint?), and printed it. With some glue stick action and fancy scissor work, I had a personalized Tech Deck. After I had a few boards under my belt, I began offering this service to my fellow skateboard enthusiasts.

I look back on these memories fondly. I don't think what if? I think about how they were early signs of my love for invention, design, and entrepreneurship.

All said, it is a good reminder that ideas are nothing without action, no matter how big or small. Everyone has ideas. Few of us are passionate enough to go after them with the belief and perseverance to make them a reality. On a second-grade scale, I'd like to think I did. For my seven-year-old self, that was a success.

A couple of years before, my startup did fail, though. I decided to open a bank (I don't know why), photocopying dollar bills onto neon green paper. When my Pop-Pop got wind of it, he shut down the whole operation, sternly filling me in on the illegal nature of what I was doing. That's a story for next time.