Month: March 2018

Taking Decisive Action

If there are two words of advice I could provide for decision making, they would be Don’t Waffle.

Simple. To the point. And all too often ignored.

When we’re faced with an important choice we’re tempted to pause. To consider the risks and the alternatives we’re giving up in the process. And, subsequently, to get trapped between the paths forward.

Yes, it can be beneficial to be deliberate when facing a grave decision. But excessive deliberation leaves us stuck in neutral. It leaves us on the path to nowhere.

We understand this. But we fall into the same trap, time and again.

Why?

Because of our fear of imperfection. Of having to own a subpar result.

Even if we’re the only ones who know we chose the lesser option, it eats at us. Visions of what could have been serve to remind us that the grass is greener on the other side. Regrets abound.

This angst is so pronounced that we factor it into our decision-making process. Often long before we know what the results of our decision might be.

And therein lies the fatal flaw.

Most decisions are made ex ante, before the results are known. We can anticipate the results of our choice based on past results, future forecasts or our gut instincts. But there’s always a chance that things won’t go according to plan. There’s always a chance that we’ll be wrong.

There’s really no way of knowing that with certainty now. With all respect to psychics, Biblical figures and Tarot card readers, the future is unpredictable by nature.

Yet, our fear of undesirable outcomes causes us to gloss over this point. To take expected results as reality. To treat these ex ante decisions as ex post — or after the fact — ones.

It’s only at the point of no return that we realize how uncertain these outcomes are.

So, we pause. We agonize. We leave ourselves — and everyone waiting on our decision — in limbo.

This monster we create does no one any good. So, it’s best to slay the beast.

It’s best to take decisive action.

To treat our decision as a necessary step to move forward. And to commit wholeheartedly to our choice.

I’m a huge fan of the decisive action approach. It’s simple, yet all-encompassing.

Taking decisive action is about far more than just coming to a decision.

It’s about embracing the finality of our decision, regardless of how it turns out.

It’s about taking responsibility for everything that happens ex post. Including making reparations or apologies for anything that goes wrong on account of our choice.

It’s about continually learning from the results of our decisions. Using good outcomes to inform subsequent decisions.

Now, it’s not about throwing caution to the wind. It’s still critically important to prepare, so that we can make an informed decision.

But when the moment of truth is upon us, it does us no good to freeze.

So, let’s break the ice.

Let’s stop waffling. Let’s start moving forward.

Let’s take decisive action.

An Ode to Utility

Utility.

What does it mean?

On a basic level, it means usefulness. It means everything having its place, with nothing going to waste.

On a personal level, it means my life philosophy.

You see, I’m utilitarian to a fault. The idea of wasting money on resources I don’t need bothers me. And the thought of wasting the day away doing nothing makes me nauseous.

The way I see it, resources are way too strained for me to go off-script with a day or an item. Everything must have its purpose and nothing should be left to neglect.

This also means I must maintain internal discipline at all times. I can’t shut off my brain for a day or mindlessly chase a thrill now and then. My mind is always working, my joy always tempered by my sense of responsibility.

This can drive those in my inner circle crazy.

“Live a little,” they say.

But I’ve lived a lot. Long enough to know that there are no shortcuts.

All of our actions balance out in the end. Better to be cognizant of this construct throughout than to live in a boom or bust cycle.

Yes, as great as it might be to live carefree, we have many responsibilities to manage. Our possessions, our bank account and our well-being are just a few. Forgetting about these for a while means we’ll need to work extra hard to tend to them later.

I’d rather do the hard work before I commit. To stay agile and think lean.

This keeps me on task and on purpose. Which helps me live a more fulfilling life. One that’s worth the grind.

So, how do I do it? Well I start by considering the use case. Then I consider the cost.

If I can’t find a good, regular use for what I’m considering, it’s not worth getting. It will simply waste away as clutter, and my hard-earned dollars will be better spent elsewhere.

And if something is prohibitively expensive, I don’t pursue it. Utility is about living within one’s means, and budgets do matter.

Of course, there are exceptions to these rules. Gifts and family heirlooms are not always utilitarian, but they are valuable. And sometimes I feel a financial splurge is necessary, even if it stretches beyond my means.

But I balance out these moments of excess with frugality. After all, the ultimate goal is utility. And utility requires a return to my purpose-driven normal.

Now, I realize my reality is a bit extreme. Not everyone has my laser focus when encountering each decision. Many don’t want to have it.

That’s understandable.

But we would all benefit by looking at the big picture now and then.

We would all benefit by considering our footprint. Of how we use what we obtain and what value that brings us.

We would all benefit by thinking of our purpose. Of how our lives fit into our grander plans.

And we would all benefit by recognizing that the little things can make a big difference.

We are all blessed to walk this earth.

Let’s live each day with purpose. And act with utility.

Character or Action?

How should we evaluate people?

This is a concern we all have.

It’s difficult to find the right attributes to benchmark others by, particularly when our heart conflicts with our head.

It’s a challenge to differentiate between character and action.

The divide between character and action is similar to that between effort and execution. We lavish praise for one, yet make important decisions based on another.

In essence, we love to talk about how great people are, and how great they make us feel. But we don’t ultimately judge them on those attributes.

Or at least we shouldn’t.

You see, far too often we hear a familiar refrain.

They haven’t been holding up their end of the bargain, but they’re such a nice person. So, I’m not going to do anything.”

Wait, what?

By relying on a person’s character when making a decision in this scenario, we do more than merely let them off the hook for inaction.

We shortchange ourselves.

Character is good. Character is important. But in a results-based society, character cannot be paramount.

Regardless how strong someone’s character might seem, it’s their actions that make the biggest impact. These actions can help us or hurt us. And we owe it to ourselves to avoid that second outcome.

On a basic level, we understand this delineation. We recognize that we must be firm and objective when evaluating options and making decisions.

But in practice, it’s hard to follow through. After all, we don’t want to appear as cold and heartless. We’d rather not rebuke the kindness we’ve received with a sharp “No thanks.”

So, we put character on a pedestal. We place the soft-skill of likability over the measurable attribute of productivity.

This makes us feel good. It makes us feel like we’re contributing to society, and that we care about others. But these sensations blind us to the damage we’re doing to ourselves.

Yes, despite what folk tale wisdom might say, leading with the heart can be very dangerous.

 

Quality character should be table stakes in our society. There’s no reason for us to treat others badly. We all deserve kindness and respect.

Sadly, not everyone demonstrates this level of character. So, it becomes an object of our desire.

This starts the vicious cycle that send our values out of whack. That prioritizes bedside manner over results.

We must correct course.

We must remember that actions speak louder than words. That character is no substitute for results.

We can continue to promote quality character, of course. To instill it in the hearts and minds of others. Making the world a better place is always worth doing.

But we must leave it there. And not forget where our priorities must lie.

Character speaks loudly. Action speaks loudest.

Reflection on Inflection

What is your inflection point?

The point that changed everything.

Mine came about 15 years ago, in a musty community hall in Folcroft, Pennsylvania.

My family had come to town that evening for my grandfather’s retirement party. After 40 years of serving the town’s medical needs, he was leaving the practice he’d built behind.

I knew what my grandfather did for a living. I remember going by his office from time to time, helping set up EKG’s for his patients.

But none of that could have prepared me for what I was about to experience.

The room where the party was held was packed with people I’d never met. I then watched in awe as person after person spoke of how much of an impact my grandfather had on their lives.

I was floored.

Coming into that party, I was an average teenager. I wore a backwards baseball hat, sought a good time at every opportunity and found the idea of growing up to be soul-crushing.

But by the end of the night, my entire life had changed.

I saw the impact my grandfather had on his community and felt inspired.

In that moment, I found my purpose. That purpose was to positively impact the lives of others, just as my grandfather had done.

That purpose has driven all of the major decisions I’ve made in my life and career. The college degrees I’ve pursued, the jobs I’ve worked, the places I’ve lived — all have been within the framework of profoundly impacting the lives of others.

Yet, it’s almost odd that this is the moment I circle as my inflection point. After all, I experienced the horrors of 9/11 firsthand, moved halfway across the country and made a daring career switch — all by the age of 25.

Those events changed the trajectory of my life, no doubt. But they were almost too direct.

There was no getting around the changes those events brought about. Whether by God’s will or my own, the status quo no longer existed. I had to come to terms with my new reality.

I felt small in those moments. And I felt powerless.

On the other hand, my grandfather’s retirement party didn’t have to change my life. I didn’t find myself facing the abyss, the point of no return. I could have gone on living my life as I had before, and no one would have batted an eye.

But that didn’t happen. I saw the the emotions my grandfather’s life’s work evoked in his community and decided to devote my life to helping mine.

I still felt small in this moment. But this time, I felt powerful.

I knew I had the power to live into my newfound purpose. But I had to do my part to make it reality.

There was clear buy-in required. And I was all in.

I believe this buy-in is key when it comes to our inflection points. After all, the most impactful moments in our life are not those that change us. They’re the ones that inspire us to change ourselves for the better.

So, when searching for your infection point, don’t focus on the changes you’ve endured. Search instead for your earliest moments of inspiration.

The smallest moments might be more impactful than you think.