Notes

Dana and I enjoy watching interior design and home renovation TV shows together. Unfortunately, we have no more seasons left of Grand Designs, so we have been making our way through the latest season of Save My House.

In the episode last night, designers Nate and Jeremiah help an older couple who have been living without floors (plywood subfloor), literally, for 16 years. They were cooking on a cooktop and cleaning dishes in a hallway bathroom sink. The story goes like this: the couple embarked on a renovation almost two decades ago, the contractor was not reliable, then they "could not find anyone" with a good sense of design, so they tolerated this. They had the money, but they gave up. I wish I could show you the shape of this home. I am all for compact living, but this was like living in a construction zone. For 16 years...

At first, I was in disbelief. How could anyone let this go for that long? The couple had become grandparents a few years prior and did not feel safe having their grandson visit, so they never had him over. It was heartwarming to see them smile as he ran around their newly installed floors and kitchen at the end of the episode.

The more I thought about it, the more I could empathize. No, I have never tolerated anything this intense for that long, but I believe we all create obstacles in our lives, sometimes without even knowing, and we go about our days tolerating them.

I think of the suitcase I neglect to unpack on a busy Sunday night after visiting family. The action of the week ensues, so I leave it there, stepping over it night after night as I get into bed.

I think of the clothes that sat in the trunk of my car for months when I said I'd donate them. Whenever we'd need trunk space, I'd have to shift everything around to make room or make it all fit in the backseat.

I let myself become immune to these self-imposed obstacles, taking more energy to work around them than to remove them. When I finally take action, I feel liberated, free. There's a weight that I never even realized was there, only noticing it when it's gone.

The scary reality is that these seemingly small obstacles can have a compounding effect. At first, it's an unpacked suitcase, then a useless trunk. Add a few more, and suddenly, every day starts to look like an episode of American Ninja Warrior.

While we're stepping over suitcases as we try to relax and spending extra time packing when heading out of town is already stressful, our mood deteriorates. Happiness and joy become a thing of the past. All we can think to do is take any drastic measure to turn our situation around and get out of the mess. We hit our breaking point and rely on one giant heroic effort to save ourselves.

We rearrange our room because it no longer feels like a resting place.

We buy a new car because we think we need the space.

Sure, change is good, but not if it's the outcome of sacrificing our well-being. I am still unsure how the couple last night made it work in that environment for so long, but they did. I'm happy to see them happy, but I'm sure there's a big part of them that wishes they unpacked that suitcase 16 years ago, or in this case, committed to finishing the job.

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Related: BL&T No. 007: Identifying the Noise Before It Stops

"Youth has no age." (Pablo Picasso)

Today is my birthday. One of those days every year that you feel connected to while to everyone else, it's just another day. I don't know about you, but lately, it's creeped up on me.

I spent this past Sunday at Jacob Riis Park beach with Dana and a friend. We spent a good deal of time talking about our grandparents, but more specifically, getting older. Uplifting, I know.

I drove home thinking about my Mom-Mom & Pop-Pop. For as long as I can remember, they never acted their age. Despite their bodies growing older, their minds remained sharp and full of wonder. At 92 years old, my Mom-Mom is an avid texter, sending me messages like this one I received today:

Not to mention that she can still hang, even if that means roasting marshmallows until the wee hours of the morning.

Looking ahead to my future, it's this youthful spirit I hope to embody at 92 and beyond.

I'll leave you with this video of Dick Van Dyke doing crunches at age 95. I'll take his youthful mind and body, too.

Both of my parents recently replied to one of my newsletters with thoughts and feedback. It may sound odd, but it's a small gesture that goes a long way. Here's why:

Newsletters & Engagement: Having spent many years performing, I'm still getting used to the feeling of developing an idea and putting it out there without ever knowing if you'll receive feedback. You learn to let it go because otherwise, you'd drive yourself crazy thinking about what others think. There may be a mailing list full of people, but there's no obligation for them to engage. When you're on stage, there's an energy in the room you can feel. Not with newsletters. You have no idea how you're doing. Any engagement means the world, especially when it comes from my parents.

Connecting with Parents: A few years ago, I would have told you that I wasn't sure my parents understood what I did for a living. Pretty sure I'm not alone on this! Writing about my personal and professional journey has allowed me to connect with my parents in new ways. Not only do they better understand what I do, but now, we can engage in deeper conversations around topics that interest us both, whether in person or over email.

Making the time to prepare my newsletter on a busy weekend like this past one can be challenging, but once I hit send, I never regret it. Thanks, Mom & Dad, for the increased momentum this week.

"The more you ritualize the beginning of a process, the more likely it becomes that you can slip into the state of deep focus that is required to do great things." (James Clear, Atomic Habits)

We love to go at full speed, flying through life, switching from one thing to the next. When we get stuck, we get frustrated with ourselves. We call it a creative block. We may even give up for a while or seek out new sources of inspiration. The harder we push, the less enjoyable it is to create.

Maybe it's as simple as slowing down and taking those familiar steps, much like getting a good night's sleep. "Sleep is a quiet, relaxing activity, so it doesn't make much sense to try to transition to that directly from something that is quite the opposite. Our bodies don't do well with abrupt changes. Quiet sleep rituals help ease this transition, preparing us mentally and physically for sleep." (Bedtime Routines and Sleep Rituals for Restful Sleep)

When it comes to the creative process, a ritual can be defined however you see fit. Maybe it's a desk only used for one activity, a lighting setup, a type of music, or all of the above. For author Seth Godin, it's all about getting into uniform.

"There's a whole bunch of obligations that go with being a professional that put you on the hook. And for years I've had uniforms at work. I don't usually wear them in public. They change from time to time. The beginning was a lab coat. Lately, I've just been trying the Japanese volunteer fireman hoppy coat because when you put on the uniform, you've just sent yourself a message to your work at your workspace. Do it at the appointed hours. Never, ever miss a deadline." (The Knowledge Project #105: Failing On Our Way to Mastery)

While I have yet to define any distinct rituals for my creative endeavors, I am curious to give it a try, especially after a hectic week where writing hasn't come easy.

"Anxiety is caused by a lack of control, organization, preparation, and action." (David Allen, Getting Things Done)

Complaints are caused by a lack of clarity, empathy, communication, and context.

Anxiety enjoys a good complaint's company.

Ever hear an unfamiliar term come up in conversation? Instead of asking for clarification, you ignore it. Naturally, everyone around you assumes you know. Weeks later, you are in a meeting with a client when they ask you a question. You panic - that unfamiliar term is coming back to haunt you. You respond, but you stumble. You have no idea what they are asking you. What comes out might as well be gibberish. Your words hang in the room for what feels like hours when suddenly, a colleague breaks the silence.

I am no believer in fake it till you make it. Even if you think you made it (whatever that means), at some point, you run out of steam, with no bank of knowledge to draw on and keep going.

You might be thinking, Lucas - sometimes you need to fake it to learn. Sure - we have to explore the unknown to fill in the gaps, uncover new ideas. That is not faking it. Faking it means you are pretending to know when you have no idea. Faking it means you are afraid to look dumb, so you shy away from asking questions.

Here is the thing - no matter how much we know, there will always be something we have yet to discover. When we fake it, we stop being curious. We stop learning. We stop getting better. We plateau.

"If you wish to improve, be content to appear clueless or stupid in extraneous matters — don’t wish to seem knowledgeable." (Epictetus)

A teammate once gave me feedback that when I say "to [insert name]'s point" in group settings, they feel validated. So, when I don't say this, they worry that I'm not on board with their approach or idea.

I had never thought about my use of this phrase or how it might impact others. Our words carry weight, sometimes more than we realize.

We'll likely say something today that we'll disagree with years from now and may have never considered years ago.

I used to worry about this when I first started writing publicly. I thought that if I contradicted myself somewhere along the line, people might call me a hypocrite.

I no longer let myself get hung up on this train of thought. If we are hungry for knowledge and information, our beliefs are bound to change. From that perspective, contradiction can actually be a symbol of growth.

Sharing our ideas and engaging others in them is one way to put our growth in hyperdrive. It not only requires us to articulate our thoughts, but it invites feedback, helping us see the world from a new vantage point.

It's better to have an idea, shape it, share it, learn from it, and evolve it than to never let it out of your mind.

Starting to see that our ability to make progress and build momentum has less to do with time management or prioritization and more to do with how connected we feel to our vision and how courageous we feel to take the first step, no matter how imperfect it may be.

If you walked one mile per day for one year, you could walk the entire length of Pennsylvania (~170 miles) and back. Then, spend the last 25 days or so walking a marathon (26.2 miles).

Just another way of saying that small steps add up, but taking no steps gets you nowhere.

What good is a lamp without power?
It doesn't matter how bright it can shine if it can't shine.
Like a lamp, we all need an outlet for power, an outlet to light us up.

An outlet to experiment.
An outlet to share ideas.
An outlet to learn from others.
An outlet to express ourselves.
An outlet to think.

Unlike a lamp, our outlets can come in many forms.

A journal.
A group of peers.
A song.
A canvas.
A podium.

We'll never know just how bright we can shine if we can't shine.
We all need a power outlet.

I need a vacation.

I used to say this if I was feeling inundated with to-dos and responsibilities. It seemed like escaping for a while would give me the relief I needed.

The thing is that even after weeks away, it only took a moment for all of the weight to return. Commitments are still commitments. Issues are still issues. So, what was the point? Temporary peace?

These days, I do my best to stop saying I need a vacation and start asking, why? What needs to change? I'd rather live a life that I don't need to escape every now and then.

Vacation should be a time for re's. Relax, reset, reimagine, rejuvenate. Not running.

Today's newsletter is about the power of letting go as a manager and trusting the team to succeed with your guidance and support. As I made my final newsletter edits and prepared for the day, I learned about a hiccup on a recent project.

Every bone in my body was ready to put all of my other priorities aside to jump in and try to make it right. Luckily, with the topic of my newsletter top of mind, I paused and thought instead. How could I help the team get this on track without doing it myself?

By the end of the day, we had a plan in place. One that didn't involve me getting in the weeds. I lost some time in the day, but I know the time spent now will pay off in spades down the line.

"Through thick or thin, in spite of the hundreds of things calling for your attention every day, never forget what you’re ultimately here to do: help your team achieve great outcomes." (Julie Zhuo, The Making of a Manager)

It's one thing to write about and reflect on concepts. It's another to apply them. Today was a welcome reminder to take my own advice. Also, to never stop revisiting, questioning, and evolving old ideas.

I loved this Gretchen Rubin quote featured in James Clear's newsletter this week:

There's so much power in this simple shift in mindset. I can think of one too many times when something didn't go as planned, and I let it bring me down, shaping my mood for the rest of the day. A distraught client, a miscommunication between employees, you know the drill. The thing is that when I let these experiences have a negative impact, it makes it harder for me to show up fully and turn them around.

I've learned to remind myself that nothing is the end of the world, but I love the idea of replacing "I'm having a bad day" with "I had a bad quarter" and taking steps to make the next quarter incredible.

I don't get much natural light in my current apartment, so when we first started working from home last year, I joked that I was working in a dungeon. It was funny, but I didn't love looking like I was in the dark all the time, especially when interacting with clients or new acquaintances.

I eventually found a lighting kit that brightened things up, but the clarity was still awful. Side note: I'm still amazed that even the latest Macbook Pro camera looks like we're in the early 2000s.

Anyway, everything changed when fellow Barrel partner Peter told me about Camo Studio via a mutual friend, Hum. Camo Studio allows you to use your iPhone as a camera (I have an iPhone 11 Pro Max), and the results are insane.

Here's a before and after (with the same lighting):

The comments after I started using Camo Studio ranged from "Whoa, your eyes are blue!?" to "Wait, why does it look like you're a YouTube influencer?" That was months ago now, but the comments haven't stopped.

To make it easier to use my phone, I revisited my setup. Here's a look at my desktop:

The more I meet new people (or catch up with friends and peers), the more I get asked about my setup, so I figured I'd list it here for easy reference. I figure that for every person who asks me, there's at least one other person out there looking to upgrade their video call appearance.

Below is a breakdown:

• Camo Camera App
• Lume Cube Mini Panel
• Lume Cube Telepod Streamer Stand & Tripod
• Lume Cube Smart Phone Mount

Happy video calls!