Sunday, February 23, 2025

Stories Can Last When You Wake From Your Dreams

Photo by Etienne Girardet on Unsplash

The morning of May 1, 1852 likely would have dawned cool in Petilla de Aragón, Navarre, Spain, where Santiago Ramón y Cajal was born. Santi was both precocious and rebellious. In 1963, he was imprisoned for destroying his neighbor’s yard gate with his homemade cannon.

Santi was a talented painter, gymnast, and artist, but his father, hoping to instill some discipline, apprenticed him as a shoemaker and barber. What his father wanted for him, more than anything, was that Santi would go into medicine, which he eventually did.

In fact, Santi grew up to be what many consider to be the father of neuroscience. He used his incredible artistic skills to map neurons, revolutionizing our understanding of the brain. His dreams of being an artist didn’t die, in spite of his father’s attempts. Instead, they found an outlet; a different way to last.

In a different scientific discipline, and not too many years earlier, Augustin Fresnel worked to prove that light behaved as a wave. Physicists of his time dismissed his ideas, hanging onto the concept that light must travel as some kind of particle (wave and particle, as it turns out). Fresnel didn’t give up. He refined his theories and eventually created the Fresnel lens, an invention that modernized lighthouses and saved countless sailors. That wave theory became the foundation of modern optics.

Photo by Jack Anstey on Unsplash

The Winding Path to Success

Cajal and Fresnel’s childhood interests played into their later discoveries and inventions. They continued to nurture things they were passionate about, even when life (or others) tried to steer them elsewhere.

Their persistence invites us to ask ourselves the questions: What dreams or ideas have we abandoned too soon? How often do we assume that a closed door isn’t an indicator that another path is waiting?


Like Cajal and Fresnel, we often have persistent ideas that won’t die. When I started my first company 16 years ago, I quickly gave up on it because finding clients was “too hard” and someone offered me a job that satisfied some of my very nerdy cravings to work in distribution and build software applications to help manage inventory and pricing.

I’ve continued to work for others for the last 15 years, but the idea for starting my own software development company has never died. Ask any of my family members, and they’ll tell you I’ve been talking about it for so long they had stopped believing it would ever happen.

During those 15 years, I’ve continued nurturing relationships and building skills that “all of a sudden” lent themselves to the development of my company and working with two of the best friends anyone could ask for.

You can reason that if I’d just stuck with things 16 years ago, I’d have had my first multi-million dollar exit from a software company.

The arrow of time makes that impossible to know for certain. I don’t think I was ready back then. I think I needed all the experiences and relationships that I’ve built in the last 15 years to get me to where I am today.

There were times (as recent as last week) when I’ve assumed that my story has ended because of the challenges of starting two companies when my children are getting to the age that they’re getting married, going to college, and having their own busy lives.

In Take the Long Way Home by Supertramp, there’s a refrain that says:

Does it feel that your life’s become a catastrophe?
Oh, it has to be, for you to grow, boy.
When you look through the years and see what you could have been.
Oh, what you might have been.

How often do we all assume that our stories are over rather than just taking a different route? Maybe that route looks like “the long way,” like a fifteen year detour before I created my software company.

If I chose, I could tell the story that my “life’s become a [work] catastrophe” of missed opportunity, or I can look at it the road I had to travel in order to get where I am today.

I held onto the dream without a clear vision of how it would play out in my life. That’s how it is for a lot of people in business and otherwise. There’s a winding road of experience and education that ultimately leads to where you want to be.

If you take a step back to examine your own life, do you see the same pattern? Do you have ideas of what you want to do or who you want to become that linger in the back of your mind?

I’m 46 years old which isn’t really old but I’m not in my twenties or thirties anymore. It’s easy for me to get caught in the trap of feeling like I’ve missed my shot, like the opportunity passed me by years ago and there’s no point in revisiting it now. I realized, however, that my old passions weren’t wasted. Just like Cajal and Fresnel (though on perhaps a smaller scale), I’ve been able to refine and repurpose my dreams to fit where I am today. If you’ll pardon the cliché statement, it’s almost as though the idea’s just been germinating for a long time, just waiting to take root.

I spent 15 years often thinking my only opportunity to build a software company had slipped through my fingers, only to realize that all those past experiences were just shaping me into someone far more capable of making it work. What if the same is true for you? What if the dreams you quietly set aside aren’t dead. What if they’re just waiting for you to grow into them?

We sometimes give into thinking that our ambitions are all-or-nothing. They’ll either happen when we first set out or they won’t happen at all. Life rarely works that way. Somehow, those things that are important to us have a tendency to stick with us, even when they take longer than we expected.

So here’s a question: What ideas have been loitering in the back of your mind like that cute person across the hall you’ve been meaning to talk to for years? What skills or ambitions have you dismissed as “not meant to be,” when maybe they were just waiting for their moment to shine with you?

Are You Resigned to Be No More Than You Are?

 

Photo by Marek Piwnicki on Unsplash

I don’t identify as a runner, but I’ve done plenty of it in my day. Statistically speaking, I’ve run more distance in one year than 99% of the total population will in their lifetime.

In 2023, I set a new personal record: more than 1,410 miles in one year. Those last 10 miles made the difference.

Science tells us that running is good for us. It also tells us that it increases the likelihood that our bodies will store fat because clearly we’re running from something.

A phrase from the biblical Proverbs comes to mind:

The wicked run away when no one is chasing them. — Proverbs 28:1

The real missed opportunity here is that it wasn’t Proverbs 26:2 (IFKYK). Pheidippides should have been born 300 years earlier.

Here’s the thing about running. When you run a lot, your body screams for calories. For the most part, the kinds of calories aren’t even that important. I mean, they are important, but also not. Long-distance runners are like calorie-burning factories. It’s probably obvious, but I’ll say it anyway, that there are different types of calories. A salad with a lot of protein sits very different on a 20-mile run than a bowl of ice cream with a lot of toppings.

After my personal record-setting year, I stopped running.

I gained 40 pounds.

Why?

Because I continued eating how I did when I was running up to 60 miles per week.

I added a lot of stress to my life as well; leaving a job I’ve been at for years and starting two companies.

Just under a week ago, my youngest child asked me, “Dad, when are you going to start running again?”

“Tomorrow,” I replied.

“Okay, and if you don’t run tomorrow, what’s the consequence? Will you add one mile to the next day’s run?”

“Sure.”

I didn’t really mean it, but then the next day I got a Discord message from him while I was at work.

“Did you run today?”

“No.”

“So, you’re going to run 6 miles tomorrow?”

“Sure,” I replied again, not really meaning it this time either.

The next day, he asked me again. I still hadn’t run, and I knew he wasn’t going to let it go.

So, I woke up the next morning and ran 8 miles. It took me as long as 13 miles used to take me, but I did it.

One day running doth not a runner make.

Or does it?

I was stuck, feeling stressed and over-eating every day.

Then, something changed. My son’s gentle, innocent reminders spurred something inside me.

This week, I have a goal to run at least 15 miles. It’s a far cry from where I was just over a year ago, but it’s a start in the right direction again. I don’t think I have a need to get back to running 40+ miles every week, but I do have a need to respect my body and shed the unwanted pounds.

We’re all faced with crossroad moments in our lives where we can choose to stay where we are or choose to change. Humans are creatures that crave change, no matter how small. Most people switch up what they wear on a daily basis for variety, we eat different foods, we go to places we’ve never been before, we say hello to people we’ve never met before. All of those things signal a desire to be a little different than we were before.

While daily, one percent improvement is impossible in any given thing over a lifetime, there are so many things we do in life where we can make tiny, almost imperceptible improvements.

We all know people who choose the path of no resistance and will Netflix themselves to death, fading into irrelevance because it’s harder than challenging yourself to be better.

The question I’ve been asking myself, even before my son declared himself my personal accountability partner, is whether I’m willing to be more than I am.

My decision to return to running is a life-altering decision, but I won’t see results overnight and certainly not all at once. Tomorrow, after I run, I might be lucky enough to be one pound lighter due to water loss on the run. If I’m a bit more careful about the calories I consume, it’ll be a tiny step forward; a choice that nudges me away from resignation to who I was.

For you, it might not be running. Maybe it’s finally fixing your diet, or calling a friend you’ve been meaning to check in on. Maybe it’s choosing to put your phone down for just five minutes and do something little that moves you in a direction you won’t regret.

The alternative? The slow fade into sameness, disappearing into a version of yourself that just never quite got around to changing.

What will you choose?

Sunday, February 16, 2025

Problems Are a Bucket, Not a List

 

Photo by Galen Crout on Unsplash

I rolled over and looked at my clock.

2:42 am.

Nobody should be awake at that unholy hour, but I’d been lying there for a while, trying to think of a reason I couldn’t just go back to sleep already.

My Oura ring tracks my sleep. It regularly tells me how bad I am at getting an adequate amount which sometimes adds to my brain’s resistance to sleep.

3 hours, 21 minutes.

Too many nights lately, my ring has decided I’m just taking a long nap instead of actually, you know, sleeping.

My to-do list is long:

  • 40 separate, work-related projects.
  • A house that’s 21 years old and, let’s face it, they don’t build ’em like they used to.
  • Exercise? Not happening.
  • Eating right? Maybe next week.

My to-do list is like a rope made up of a thousand strands, each one frayed at the end, and I’m trying to snip them one at a time with a dull pair of those tiny travel-sewing-kit scissors.

Futile.

There’s no finish line, no moment when the last thing gets checked off, the last email gets sent, and I get to put my completed to do list in a drawer, never to be touched again. The list is always going to regenerate as fast (or faster) than I can cross things off, and some tasks burst onto the scene, demanding my attention, before I can even write them down. If you have a boss who understands prioritizing about as well as a four-year-old understands quantum mechanics then you know what I’m talking about.

The things to do and problems to solve are steady drips of water falling into a bucket that will never be emptied during a person’s life.

So. . .do we just give up? Surrender to the idea that we’ll never empty the bucket so what’s the point in trying?

Some people do.

For the rest of us, we have to embrace the truth that humans are wired to be problem-solving creatures. When we lack friction in our lives, we create it so we have something to solve.

An important, and often overlooked, aspect of this truth, however, is that we can’t do it all. It’s impossible to tackle every challenge, meet every opportunity, and do all the things.

So we have to choose.

And sometimes, the choice paralyzes us, and it’s not because we’re incapable, but because the sheer number of competing priorities makes it really hard to decide which thing is actually the most important.

In a world overrun with hacks, frameworks, gurus, and efficiency, we’ve been conditioned to believe there’s a perfect system for solving all our problems. Every productivity guru has the method for getting things done. Every business book has the strategy for prioritizing what matters. Every leadership coach has the secret to time management.

I understand that businesses need efficiency to be profitable. But there’s a vast difference between being profitable and maximizing profit at the expense of everything else. At some point, efficiency turns into extraction (exploitation?) where people stop being people. They become gears in the profit machine; expendable parts that can be tossed out when the numbers don’t align. That’s why the C-suite gets golden parachutes while hundreds of thousands lose their jobs. That’s why “doing more with less” is just corporate-speak for “squeeze harder.”

And maybe that’s why we all feel so exhausted.

So, what do we do?

We stop chasing the impossible.

We stop treating “getting everything done” as the goal because that goal is a mirage; one that is always moving out ahead of us no matter how close we think we’re getting. Instead, we redefine success. We accept that some things will not get done, and that it’s okay. The real challenge isn’t how to do more, it’s how to be okay with doing enough.

1. Identify What Actually Matters

Not everything on your list deserves your attention. So many things are urgent but meaningless, feel important but aren’t, or don’t need to be done at all. The trick is figuring out which is which.

Here’s a simple exercise:

  • What would happen if you didn’t do the thing? (If the answer is “nothing,” move on.)
  • Who are you really doing this for? (If it’s for appearances rather than necessity, reconsider.)
  • Will this matter in a week? A month? A year? (If not, why stress over it now?)

Did you know that the plural of priority wasn’t even used much until almost 1940, and prior to the 1900s it wasn’t even a word? If everything feels like a priority then nothing is. You can’t find more time, try as you might. You just have to actively decide what’s worth your time.

2. Let Go of the “Perfect System” Illusion

The productivity world sells the idea (for 15% off if you buy today) that if you just find the right system, you’ll finally get control over your time. Spoiler alert: no system will save you.

There’s no planner, no time-blocking strategy, no AI assistant that will magically make it all fit into 16 to 20 waking-hours a day. The sooner you accept that, the sooner you can stop wasting energy trying to optimize every minute of your life like you’re a machine.

Instead of obsessing over “perfect efficiency,” focus on effective sufficiency which is doing what matters most, and being okay with leaving some things undone. Like I just told my nine-year old son, you don’t have to be perfect. Most of the time, adequate is all you need.

3. Redefine Success in a Way That Doesn’t Drain You

If success is checking every box, you will never feel successful. If success is progress on what matters, suddenly, you’re winning.

  • If you worked on one meaningful project today, that’s a win.
  • If you took care of yourself in a way that lets you keep going tomorrow, that’s a win.
  • If you spent time with people you care about instead of squeezing in “just one more task,” that’s a win.
  • If you read a few pages in a good book, that’s a win.

At the end of the day, no one will remember how many emails you answered. They’ll remember how you showed up in their lives.

4. Accept That Rest Is Part of the Work

We’ve been conditioned to believe that rest is a luxury, when in reality, it’s fuel. Burnout doesn’t happen because people are weak. It happens because we’re not designed to function at full speed indefinitely. Even machines require downtime.

Because the to-do list is never ending, stopping for a moment is really the only way to keep going. A car with an empty gas tank doesn’t get anywhere.

Neither do you.

Give Yourself Permission to Let Go

The list will never be finished. The bucket will never be empty. And that’s okay.

Your job isn’t to do all the things. It’s to do the things that matter and to have a life worth living in the process.

So, go ahead and close the laptop and just enjoy that Hallmark movie with your spouse. Put the list down, and back up slowly. Remind yourself that the world won’t crumble if you take a breath. In fact, your world might crumble if you don’t take time to breathe.

Just... breathe.

Monday, February 10, 2025

The Productivity Trap: How the Tech Industry Turned Efficiency into a Weapon

 

Photo by Anthony Young on Unsplash

In the race to be more efficient, workers are discovering that productivity isn’t always their friend. What was once about working smarter has become a never-ending treadmill of optimization that serves the interests of tech companies far more than their employees.

The tools designed to streamline work (e.g. project management software, AI-driven task automation, and real-time messaging platforms) seem like miracles. Their promise is to make us all more productive. In reality, they create new and unnecessary pressures. The expectation isn’t just to get more done in less time; it’s to be constantly available, responding to messages in minutes, optimizing every workflow, and squeezing more output from every hour.

The announcement from Salesforce that they wouldn’t be hiring new developers this year because of AIs impact on productivity is an alarming symptom of tech leaders being out of touch with the needs of real people.

Productivity as a Business Model

This relentless drive is no accident. The tech industry has commodified (is that a word?) productivity, packaging it into sleek apps and subscription models that turn efficiency into a never-ending pursuit. Features like automated performance tracking and engagement analytics promise to help companies “maximize potential” — but they also fuel an unhealthy cycle of surveillance and self-optimization. The result? Employees who are always being watched, measured, and pushed to do more.

Many of the most popular workplace tools — Trello, Asana, Notion, and Microsoft Teams — are built on the premise that more structure equals more efficiency. Yet these very tools often contribute to a paradoxical form of inefficiency: endless status updates, performance dashboards, and notifications that fragment attention rather than enhance focus. Employees often spend as much time documenting their work as they do actually doing it.

The Tech Industry’s Stake in Burnout

Big Tech benefits from this culture in several ways. The more companies rely on digital tools to manage work, the more data tech firms collect. That data fuels algorithms, refines AI models, and feeds into broader business strategies. Meanwhile, the narrative of “productivity = success” encourages workers to accept longer hours and blurred boundaries between work and personal life — all under the guise of self-improvement.

The monetization of productivity is also evident in the explosion of “hustle culture” content, much of which is platform-driven. From LinkedIn thought leaders preaching the gospel of 5 a.m. routines to TikTok influencers promoting the latest life-hacking app, social media algorithms reward content that pushes the idea that success is simply a matter of working harder (and using the right tools at a “low” monthly fee, of course).

The Real Cost of Over-Optimization

It’s ironic that research shows excessive productivity demands actually reduce efficiency. Burnout leads to lower engagement, creativity suffers, and turnover rates climb. A 2021 study from Microsoft found that back-to-back virtual meetings lead to higher stress levels and lower focus, while a Gallup report found that burned-out employees are 63% more likely to take sick days. And since the Microsoft study, the situation certainly hasn’t improved.

Some companies are beginning to acknowledge this. There are experiments going on like four-day workweeks, “right to disconnect” policies (another irony that we have to be granted the right to disconnect), and rethinking performance metrics. But the broader culture isn’t changing. In some cases, it’s getting worse. In tech’s version of productivity, there’s always another level to reach, another tool to adopt, another metric to improve.

There’s nothing inherently wrong with wanting to be more efficient. However, when it’s wielded to control people rather than empower them, it stops serving workers and starts exploiting them. Until that changes, the productivity trap will keep running, whether we like it or not.

Sunday, February 9, 2025

How Ordinary Lives Create Extraordinary Good

 

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

Grandma Vera wasn’t much taller than the organ she loved to play that sat in her living room. Grandma seated at the organ is a recurrent childhood memory.

She’d been playing the organ since she was a young girl, and even as an adult her hands were so small she had to stretch to reach the chords she loved. She played the organ at home all the time, but it was her service in her church that is a hallmark of her life.

Over the years, her music became the soundtrack of people’s grief and remembrance. I think the final count was seventy-two funerals. Seventy-two families that wept while she played, her music sustaining them in their loss. She never asked for thanks. She just showed up, sat down, and played.

Cancer finally took Grandma’s ability to play, but not before her final arrangement. At her own funeral, her recorded sounds played for the seventy-third time.

My grandma was never famous. She never really even sought recognition. Yet thousands of people left those funerals feeling comfort, peace, or just the warmth of grandma’s gift as she sat behind the organ.

For some time before she passed away, I had the privilege of living with Grandpa Tom and Grandma Vera. They, like their son (my dad), are some of my heroes.

Applause doesn’t typically accompany the music at funerals, but Grandma’s music was never about applause; it was about showing up for the people who needed her. That’s really the power of ordinary lives: their influence is rarely seen, but never insignificant.

The Power of Unseen Influence

Quiet, unassuming people, like Grandma Vera, are often the ones whose unseen efforts hold the world together. They give, serve, and love without expectation of recognition, yet their quiet influence supports almost everyone who has accomplished great things.

In Middlemarch, George Eliot wrote:

…for the growing good of the world is partly dependent on unhistoric acts; and that things are not so ill with you and me as they might have been, is half owing to the number who lived faithfully a hidden life, and rest in unvisited tombs.

The Myth of Monumental Achievement

We remember and celebrate the names that fill history books, but they aren’t the only ones who shape the world. It’s also built by the millions “who lived faithfully a hidden life, and rest in unvisited tombs.”

If you’ve ever stayed to watch the credits of a blockbuster movie, you can see that thousands of people work to make those movies a success. In a movie like Avengers: End Game, people are going to remember the performances of the major on-screen characters, but nobody outside of Amanda Akins’ family and friends will remember her role as dimmer tech on that film, yet important aspects of the movie’s lighting would be off without someone filling her role.

Multiply Ms. Akins’ role almost 3,000 times and you have the crew required to make Avengers: End Game a reality. Great as the actors may be (or not), the movie wouldn’t exist without the efforts of thousands of mostly anonymous people.

The world loves a hero’s journey, and because the stories appear to involve relatively few people, they’re easier to remember, but perhaps we’ve had it backwards all along. The world, for the most part, doesn’t run on heroes. It runs on ordinary, faithful lives, and always has.

The Ripple Effect of a Hidden Life

Now, just because most people won’t be remembered by millions (or even hundreds) doesn’t mean their influence disappears. Just like ripples in a pond, their quiet contributions extend far beyond what they or we ever see.

Grandma Vera had a profound impact on me. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been dutiful about making my bed, but Grandma Vera taught me how to really make a bed. She could easily have taught a masterclass to hotel staff about how to make a bed look crisp.

I also learned a lot from her about quiet, anonymous acts of service. Apart from the time she spent playing to organ for so many funerals, Grandma was active in the community and could often be found taking her aging friends to this or that doctor’s appointment.

Grandma V died just two days before Christmas in 2006, but I think about her all time. I think about how much she loved all her grandchildren. Her love extended far and wide, but so many of the people she touched never even knew her name.

Grandma Vera

Redefining Success and Legacy

Like him or hate him, I’m impressed by what Bill Gates has accomplished in his life. I’ve just started reading his memoire Source Code. While I admire him, I’ve never met him nor do I suppose I ever will. Bill Gates probably won’t ever know my name and he certainly wouldn’t mourn for me when I die.

It’s fine to be influenced and inspired by the accomplishments of great people, but I think it’s time for us to refocus our energy on remembering the people who have made the biggest difference in our lives. When I consider the depth of impact, the influence of Grandma V on my life reaches broader and deeper than any celebrity ever could.

Looking forward, perhaps it’s time to realize that success isn’t about how widely known we are, but about the profound influence we have on others. Success is also in remembering the sacrifices that were made by others, our own unsung heroes, to get us where we are.