Today I'm attending a workshop on how to build a strong culture. I imagine a world in which work deepens the connection between us and the things we love. I need tools to further my cause so I seek help.

Today I also have a call helping two passionate business owners build a strong culture of their own. They have big ideas about what a business can be and are intent on bringing their dream to life. They need tools to further their cause so they seek help.

I like to imagine that this continues all the way up and down the spectrum. That those I'm helping are helping others. Those helping me are reaching out for help. An unbroken chain of students and teachers.

Today offers one literal example of this chain but here's the great part:

We don't need to sign up for a formal class to learn.
We don't need a huge platform or following to teach.
We learn just as much helping others as we do seeking help.

But only if we approach each moment with intention.

Every day each of us has the opportunity to be both a student and a teacher. If we don’t embrace both paths, we're selling ourselves and those around us short.

Your good intentions can't inspire someone, give someone hope, or make them more equipped to tackle the challenges they face. 

Only your actions can do that.   

It's recently become clear that the picture of myself I have in my head and the actions I take don't match up. At least not as much as I'd like them to. 

As much as I want people to see me for what I believe, I must accept that they can only judge me based on what I do. 

Finding the courage to act isn't always easy. Putting a flag in the ground means you're going to piss some people off. People who might be close to you. People you value.

But your road is yours to travel, and standing up doesn't mean standing alone. 

You gain the opportunity to find people who feel the same way as you. To inspire others to take action of their own. To help others who need you.

But only if you send the signal. Only if you act.

For many of us, work is a means to an end. We have to pay rent. We have to eat. So we work. We show up every day and we clock in.

But as we clock in we check out. We view work as a separate part of our lives, something that’s somehow disconnected from the whole. But the time and energy we trade are very much real.

Long after we’ve clocked out, we deal with the emotional aftershocks of the day. Stress. Anxiety. The pressure to be a different person at work than we are at home. These are feelings that no amount of vacations, meditation, massages or spa days can cure.

The culture has convinced us that we want work-life balance. That it’s ok to spend all day shoving a square peg through a round hole because the PTO we’re accruing makes up for it. Fuck that.

We can do better. Not just as employees and bosses, but as a culture. It starts with us. Let's get to work.

There's a difference between hearing and listening. 

The action is the same but our intent drives the result.

Being heard makes us feel safe, understood, and appreciated. 

Simply being listened to often leaves us feeling more frustrated than we were in the first place.

The amazing thing about hearing others is that we usually learn something about ourselves in the process.

Our bosses, teachers, parents, friends — they all listen to us. It's the ones who truly hear us that have the power to impact our lives for the better.

Who will you hear today?

That box wasn't built for you. 

Even if it was, you don't have to get into it. 

No life hack beats knowing what you believe. 

No productivity technique beats a strong sense of purpose. 

Apps and software can't organize us, only our thoughts can. 

So maybe we should listen to them. 

Maybe, instead of finding more efficient ways to do things we hate, we can do the hard work of looking deep inside to search for something we love.

Graduation. Your first big job. Opening day. 

More locations. New markets. Increased revenue.

Chasing the thrill of the highlight reel teaches us to ignore the adventures that happen every day.

Life is a collection of moments, not a collection of milestones.

What you do today matters, even if it doesn’t change your status, get a thousand likes, or make you a million dollars.

Each of us has a contribution only we can make.

When we give ourselves permission to live our truth, it creates an environment that gives us the freedom to do our best work.

We all deserve the opportunity to do our best work, not only for ourselves but because it’s the best way to contribute to the things we believe in and show up for the people we serve.

Being involved doesn't mean doing everything yourself. 

Empowering others doesn't mean relinquishing ownership. 

The idea of hands-on vs. hands-off leadership implies that we live in a black and white world when in fact, everything is a shade of grey. 

Don't choose a side. Choose the courage to thoughtfully explore balance.

Today's a great day to help someone. You don't need money or a huge platform. 

Make a call. 
Send a message. 
Write a letter. 

When we're feeling the weight of uncertainty it's easy to disregard each other in the name of saving ourselves, but there's a catch:

If we put all of our energy into saving ourselves, we must be aware that when the dust settles, we'll be alone.

We already possess our most valuable gifts.

The real work is to unlock, shape, and share them. 

"I'm going to relocate my career into coffee, you guys are having so much fun!" A friend texted to our group thread.

"Trust me, coffee looks cooler than it is." A fellow coffee professional replied. 

I can relate. Some days I dream of switching industries in hopes of finally feeling at home but I know it's not our industry that's broken.

A great relationship with our job is much like a great relationship with another person. One where we feel safe and comfortable being ourselves. If a friendship becomes toxic or one-sided we let it die. We know friendship itself isn't the problem. 

"Any job is only as good as what you work for, who you work for, and how much of yourself they let you bring to the game every day," I replied. 

If we spend 8 hours a day, 5 days a week, year after year not feeling like ourselves, it doesn't matter what industry we're in.

“How many locations do you have?”
“How many employees do you have?”
“How many wholesale accounts do you have?”

Trying to assess the value of an organization by way of the above questions is like trying to assess the value of a human by asking what kind of shoes they wear or how many followers they have on Instagram.

We’re not actually trying to get to know people, we’re simply attempting to rank them in our dysfunctional social hierarchy.

The questions we ask reflect our values and start the conversations that shape our culture.

“What do you stand for?”

A time to be heard. A chance to identify, to belong, to connect with others like us.

We run to our soapboxes armed with our predetermined soundbites—predetermined by people we want so desperately to believe have our best interests at heart, and we shout.

Flags planted firmly in the ground. Mouths open, ears and minds closed. The best aspects of democracy choked to death by fear and misunderstanding.

For want of winning so bad, we all lose.

It can be hard to show up as ourselves.

Societal pressure, groupthink, our perception of others, or sense of self-worth all have the power to impact the version of us we give to the world.

It’s easy to build the nasty habit of running our truth through different funnels and filters to please other people or even hide from ourselves.

The problem is, when we compromise our beliefs and values in hopes of fitting in, we really aren’t there at all.

Tweet. Gram. Update. Publish. All signals to let people know we’re still here. “Don’t forget about me, I’m important!”

Endless time poured into digital networks in hopes of being heard, of feeling like we’re a part of something. Hours spent meticulously crafting posts to make sure people understand who we are and what we stand for.

A sharp contrast to our conversations in real life.

“Sup?”
“Nothing.”
“How you doing?”
“Good.”
“Cool.”

Ironically the bank we’re paying into is the very thing that’s keeping us from what we want most.

We willingly trade our lives to increase the valuation of entities who could give a fuck about us. Entities that try their best to make us think if we don’t participate, we don’t exist, but the reality is the inverse. The more we participate, the less we exist.

Milton Friedman's idea of shareholder supremacy asserts that the function of a business is to simply maximize its profits. This idea lends itself to a certain language.

Charts, graphs, and numbers become our primary communication methods, while emotions, sense of purpose, and connection are left in the dust.

Friedman’s ideas sound much more scandalous when translated into a personal setting: 

“The function of any relationship is to maximize the gain from it.”

While this idea makes our skin crawl, we accept it in business because business isn’t personal.

But business is personal. No matter what language we use to muddy the waters and remove responsibility from ourselves within our organizations, every interaction at its core, is with an individual.

“Is starting a business hard?”

Starting a business is much like beginning a new friendship. It’s front-loaded with fun and excitement. Everything is electric — the vision of perfection in your mind is unbendable.

The test of any organization comes with time. Making the right decisions when things are going poorly. Resisting the temptation to compromise your beliefs and take the easy way out at the expense of everyone else.

Such is any long term friendship. When the glitz, glam, and excitement have passed we’re left with something far more special although we don’t often realize it.

Truth. Substance. Safety.

A bond of trust that has the potential to weather any storm if we can play our part not only when times are good, but when things suck.

So no, starting a business isn’t hard, it’s really easy. But that’s just the tip of the iceberg.

Six people. Six laptops. Six phones.

Someone talking, everyone else checking email, fielding text messages, looking forward to the next item on the agenda, waiting for their turn to speak. Doing everything but listening. 

It’s no wonder that as a growing organization communication is one of our biggest challenges. 

A server texting while taking our order. Our barber checking their email while cutting our hair.

Things we immediately recognize as unacceptable. We expect undivided attention from these people but don’t offer the same to our businesses, friends, or loved ones.

I'm as guilty as the next person and it's time for a shift. Who wants to join me?

“Always just being so selfish,” my brother said. Our grandmother had just passed and he was lamenting not going to see her more often. 

I was even more guilty. When I didn’t visit it was because it was hard. Hard for me to see someone who was so strong and vibrant, someone who used to churn out a seemingly endless supply of homemade tortillas and tamales, and cook huge dinners for the whole family, barely be able to move. 

It made me uncomfortable. Mostly because I know that will be me one day. It will be all of us one day. 

Earlier that same day I’d heard the Anne Frank quote: “Dead people receive more flowers than the living ones because regret is stronger than gratitude.”

The ultimate flower is our time. Extremely limited in supply but available for use however we see fit. 

Driving home from Christmas dinner at my mothers I could see my grandma’s house from the freeway. I’d visited her recently and it was getting late so I told my wife: “I’ll just see her next time.” She died two days after Christmas. 

Sometimes next time never comes.