johnmaconline

I was watching the Bills-Bengals game live when it happened.

First, thank God for the reaction, action, and expertise of the medical staffs, officials, players, coaches, crews, and everyone on that field or in the stadium.

Second, kudos to ESPN, including Joe, Troy, Booger, Suzy, Adam, and the behind-the-scenes crew, for respectful and emotionally accurate coverage and for not jumping to conclusions, purposefully obfuscating or grandstanding. In my opinion, that was great reporting.

Third, before us lies an opportunity. What will we do with it?

Some have already decided the opportunity is to stick a fork in the other side — to continue to push the agenda. 

“How many more have to fall? #DiedSuddenly”

“Anyone claiming this is a vaccine injury is despicable and repulsive.”

But the real opportunity lies in the conversation we should now be able to have. Sober, if emotional, conversation about data, studies, and the real world devoid of tribal influence. Conversation about those whose names we don’t know. Conversation outside of narratives. 

And most importantly, conversation about how we can see the world from different angles yet still come together. 

Resilience often requires a distributed model. Independent farming is resilient. The blockchain is resilient. Suburban sprawl is resilient.

Efficiency often requires a centralized model. Corporate farming is efficient. A central bank is efficient. High-rise, high-density housing is efficient.

Resilience and efficiency aren’t antonyms, but neither are they synonyms. They are orthogonal. Elegant solutions strike a balance in systems with orthogonal requirements. Sometimes we push one way, sometimes the other. Sometimes we need flexibility in both thinking and doing.

What we don’t need, however, is religious fervor about either.

“This is the year that I…”

Starts with “This is the day that I…”

Which starts with “This is the moment I…”

Here’s wishing you awareness, courage, and sentience for all those moments in 2023.

If you’re someone who excels, you want a meritocracy.
If you don’t currently excel but believe you can with the right opportunity, you want equality (of opportunity).
If you don’t believe you can, don’t want to, or don’t think you should have to, you want equity (of outcome).

There are approximately 79342 reasons why you might see yourself in one of these statements. This is the story you tell yourself, and our stories make us who we are.

None of those reasons are objective. None of those reasons are for one particular group. None of those reasons are better than another’s.

Let’s not pretend they are.

I have a favorite pair of pants, but I know they’re liars. 

My favorite pants indicate they are the same size as my other ones, but they just fit better. This can only mean they’re lying to me. It’s a little white lie, but still a lie. 

And this little white lie makes me feel better about myself. Plus, I suspect that these pants fully understand what they are doing because they know they’re the ones I’m reaching for when I need to grab some pants. 

They’re smart liars. 

Smart marketers, tribes, and leaders understand the power of the white lie. The little white lie can engage FOMO, weaponize empathy, or like my favorite pants, make you feel good about yourself. 

I often wonder where the line is. That line between, “eh, it’s harmless,” and, “now wait a minute here.” 

Everybody knows that the gym is a madhouse in January. The memes are already flying around. The January-gym phenomenon is an excellent perspective lab. 

There’s this guy at the squat rack with the string tank top:

“Dude, WTF! Just get out of my way! Take your sorry ass over to the treadmill! Pretend it’s mid-February and disappear!”

There’s this guy using his entire body to curl a set of 50 lb dumbbells:

“Oh my gosh, I sure hope I’m not as obvious as I feel. Do I look like I know what I’m doing? Are people staring at me? Do I look weak? Do people still do curls?”

There’s this guy standing next to the Cybex leg curl machine:

“How do I use this thing? Do I have it right? Oh, please don’t let the trainer see me. Are the guys at the squat rack laughing at me?”

There’s this guy walking around with fancy training pants and the gym’s logo on his golf shirt:

“Oh, not again. What is this idiot doing at the leg curl machine? Jeez, I guess I gotta go over and help him. Yo, bro, my name’s Chet, let me help you here…”

There’s this guy sitting in the back office signing the checks:

“This is great! I sure do love January! How do I keep this momentum?”

Remember, whoever you are, in whatever situation, your perspective is valid yet personal. When you look around, rarely will anybody else see it the same way. 

I published my first blog article on May 5, 2016. It sucked. 

Over the next several years, I published about a hundred more. They all suck, with maybe a few exceptions. 

I found that Resistance’s biggest weapon in my personal fight to publish was the complete lack of constraints around what I was trying to accomplish — too many variables. 

What was I trying to say?
How often should I publish?
Who was I trying to say it to?
What was my goal?
What was the skill I was trying to learn and use?

And a million other questions and variables.

A few months ago, I committed to publishing articles daily for a year. Those 365 will more than triple my output from the previous five years. To do so, I knew I couldn’t approach it the same way. I needed to cut out some of the variables and add some constraints.

The constraints I added were to keep each article to less than 250 words, publish at 8:44 am each day, and focus the content on helping people see other perspectives through transformative storytelling.

So many times, we get caught up in blaming constraints for why we can’t or don’t — if only I could do whatever I wanted. When, in fact, maybe those constraints are the very reason we can and do.

Where do you need to add some constraints?

Resolutions. Love them or hate them? I personally hate them, but here’s a good one for me. Maybe it’ll help you.

I have a yes/no problem.

Specifically, I’m not saying one of them enough, or to the right thing, or at the right time. 

How do I know which?

There’s science behind why we need to say yes to more things. The science of saying yes is about finding the right opportunities through experimentation. 

Yes is about possibilities and breadth.

Saying no is an art because the issue’s core is usually entangled in a web of emotions. Sometimes we say no out of fear. Fear of the unknown, rejection, failure. Fear that you won’t or can’t finish.

Other times we can’t say no because of fear. Fear of letting someone down, disappointing ourselves, or having to admit a weakness. We all want to be someone who can be counted upon.

The art is in separating your emotions of the moment from the journey you are on.

No is about focus and depth.

Yup, this is all me. But I have a solution that I’ve tried before and will commit to for the new year. In these situations, I will ask myself,

 “Which is harder for me (in this situation)?”

My comfort zone is a stone-cold sage regarding what I should be doing. The answer that threatens to pull me out of my comfort zone is likely to be the better choice.

Let’s jump out of our comfort zones.

I won’t be punished if I publish an article that cuts against the narrative.
I won’t get canceled if I say something offensive.
I won’t experience any public backlash if I take a side and defend it.

So I can do all of those things. However, that’s not the real benefit. 

The real benefit is that without these worries, I can continue to focus on My World. 

Oh, right. Anyone can do that.