…is another word for lucky. Someone needs to get lucky, and it might even be you, but luck is not a strategy.
Not just the individual, the kid who doesn’t learn to walk the first day, or the violinist who doesn’t win a competition at the age of eight, but organizations and their projects as well.
The people who are good in the long run fail a lot, especially at the beginning. So, when you fail early, it might be worth realizing that this is part of the deal, the price you pay for being good in the long run.
Every rejection is a gift. A chance to learn and to do it better next time. An opportunity to figure out how to bounce, not break. Don’t waste them.
Sometimes, getting lucky at the start means that you fail to learn resilience and tenacity, and you lack the tools to get better. The long run is a lot longer than the start is.
Zipf’s law applies to more than just the letters in the alphabet. In just about every system and every market, a power law is in force.
Heavy users make markets work. There are a few people who eat out every night, or go to 30 Broadway shows a year, or send 200 greeting cards annually or buy $100,000 worth of jewellery at a shot. There are people who tweet every three minutes, individuals who work to have tens of thousands of Facebook fans or work overtime to be the top of the heap at door-to-door selling.
This is a given. Your power users will account for a disproportionate amount of your usage and attention.
The question is this: Is your project organized so that it benefits from the power users? (And so it benefits them in return?)
In the case of Broadway shows, not at all. Frequent ticket buyers do nothing at all to help the marketing or impact of a typical show. On the other hand, Twitter is designed from the ground up to grow as their power users push it forward. Wikipedia thrives on the work of just 5,000 power editors. eBay grew because just a few thousand home businesses used it as a platform to bring in millions of buyers.
Power users can pay you more or they can build infrastructure, or they can do outreach for you. The challenge is in finding them, embracing them and giving them tools to accomplish their goals as you reach yours.
Enrich your health by walking twenty minutes a day.
Enrich your community by contributing to someone, without keeping score.
Enrich your relationships by saying what needs to be said.
Enrich your standing by trusting someone else.
Enrich your organization by doing more than you’re asked.
Enrich your skills by learning something new, something scary.
Enrich your peace of mind by being trusted.
The connection economy pays dividends in ways that the industrial one rarely did.
This actually means, "it wasn’t important enough." It wasn’t a high priority, fun, distracting, profitable or urgent enough to make it to the top of the list.
Every few days, Twitter and Facebook soak up a billion hours of ‘spare’ time. Where did that time come from? What did we do before social media was here? Weren’t we busy five years ago?
Running out of time is mostly a euphemism, and the smart analyst realizes that it’s a message about something else. Time is finite, but, unlike money, time is also replenished every second.
The people you’re trying to reach are always recalibrating which meetings they go to, which shows they watch, which books they don’t read. The solution has nothing to do with giving people more time (you can’t) and everything to do with creating more urgency, more of an itch, more desire.
When you send a hand-written letter to your best friend on the occasion of her wedding, you don’t rush the note.
When a long-term patient needs to hear your plan on how she will beat the cancer you just found, you don’t rush the meeting.
When your best customer just discovered that his critical shipment is totally messed up, you don’t rush the phone call.
The problem is this: we’ve scaled the number of contacts, of patients, of Christmas card recipients, of Twitter followers, of email correspondents, of investors, of backers, of Kick-starter supporters, of readers, of correspondents, of co-workers, of… we’ve scaled it all.
And the one thing we can’t do is scale our ability to take time.
So, this year, when you sent out 500 cards, of course you didn’t take the time to handwrite each one with a personal note. How could you? And recently, when you sent a blast to 500 donors announcing a matching grant, you didn’t personalize each note and leave out the people you told personally, because, hey, it’s a huge list… how could you?
Treat different people differently. You decided to get bigger, but you won’t be able to treat everyone the way you used to. That was your decision, and it’s one of the costs of bigger.
Treating different people differently is the only way you’ve got to be able to take your time with the few, because, alas, you can no longer take your time with everyone. And if you can’t live with that, get smaller!
is getting someone else to agree with their point of view and take action.
The second most difficult work professionals do is developing a point of view in the first place.
There’s always a defect, always a slow drip, somewhere. Every plan, every organization, every venture has a glitch.
The question isn’t, "is this perfect?" The question is, "will this get me there?"
Sometimes we make the mistake of ignoring the big leaks, the ones that threaten our journey.
More often, though, we’re so busy fixing tiny leaks that we get distracted from the real goal, which is to go somewhere.
You have permission to create, to speak up, and stand up.
You have permission to be generous, to fail, and to be vulnerable.
You have permission to own your words, to matter and to help.
No need to wait.
"Succeed" is in the eye of the beholder…
Most likely to hit a home run Most likely to please my boss
Most likely to do the work Most likely to work for free
Most likely to stick it out Most likely to change everything
Most likely to be trustworthy Most likely to attract attention
Most likely to be invisible Most likely to be worth it
Right in the front row, not four feet from Christian McBride, was every performer’s bête noire. I don’t know why she came to the Blue Note, maybe it was to make her date happy. But she was yawning, checking her watch, looking around the room, fiddling with this and that, doing everything except being engaged in the music.
McBride seemed to be too professional and too experienced to get brought down by her disrespect and disengagement. Here’s what he knew: It wasn’t about him, it wasn’t about the music, it wasn’t a response to what he was creating.
Haters are going to hate.
Shun the non-believers.
Do your work, your best work, the work that matters to you. For some people, you can say, "hey, it’s not for you." That’s okay. If you try to delight the undelightable, you’ve made yourself miserable for no reason.
It’s sort of silly to make yourself miserable, but at least you ought to reserve it for times when you have a good reason.
It’s not the way the wind blows, its how you set your sails. — Unknown