Do you have the target defined? Marketers get this — if you create work for other people, then your work serves others. If you want to serve others, then you must inhabit their world.Inhabiting a person’s worldview is tough. You are requried to suspend judgment and play the role of observer — noticing things around you. Perhaps only as the observer can the craftsperson develop a better idea of what they must build. Perhaps only as the observer can we output more helpful things. Perhaps only as the observer can we truly see who we serve.

The ease of writing a book to you daily - great.Intention ≠ Ease. Concise and direct requires time, intention, and attention.

I sat in a shuttle going between terminals. The shuttle driver received an incoming call on the radio. The dispatcher asked the shuttle driver to go to Parking Lot A to pick some passengers. Another person came on the radio and said they would go to Parking Lot A. The shuttle driver said he would proceed to departures. The dispatcher asked the shuttle bus driver to pick someone up in Lot B. Another person said they were in Lot B. The mess of communication made the shuttle bus driver crazy. He raised his voice. He complained about how people don’t listen. He did not appreciate the lack of organization and clarity from his teammates. He said, “listening is such a hard skill. I mean, why is it so hard for people to shut up and simply focus on the task at hand.”

If you’re in a new place, you may have a list of restaurants you want to try. Which one do you pick? Consider this: you’ve never been to any of them, so you don’t know what you’re missing. And if you would derive relatively equal value from each restaurant, then consider the one that offers the least rushed experience. Give yourself the gift of savoring new.

I am not skilled at networking — it’s not my gift. However, I thought about two opposite yet complimentary ideas related to it.First: Quantity over QualityNetwork with as many people as you can to maximize for future optionality. The more people you meet, the more you can pick and choose with whom to cultivate relationships. Second: Quality over QuantityWhy not pick just a few people and focus on them? Have a few memorable conversations that may produce something beautiful in the future. People aren’t trading cards. ConclusionNetworking is a cost for me. I’m more introverted than not, and I’m a bit weird to meet in person. That said, I see how the person like me can exist in either world — quantity or quality. Focusing on rapid networking doesn’t require me to deploy emotional resources. I can see how many people I can meet before I’m exhausted. I optimize for a balanced intro and an option to meet in the future. Focusing on quality seems like a smart move for people I believe there can be a strong exchange of value. Perhaps I look at relationship-building like a funnel and I reserve “quality” towards the lower half of the funnel?

I like to think about culture. And I like to wonder how culture shapes our view of the world and how we exist in it. Perhaps I’m a bit of a culture contrarian most times. As it relates to AI, I’m remarkably curious how our culture will be changed (I believe for the better) in times to come. Here are two examples care of Tyler Cowen: Click here for a clip of how OpenAI (makers of ChatGPT) developed their tech to order 400 chocolate covered strawberries… and pay in cash.Are doctors considering AI’s diagnostic reasoning? “Doctors were given cases to diagnose, with half getting GPT-4 access to help. The control group got 73% score in diagnostic accuracy (a measure of diagnostic reasoning) & the GPT-4 group 77%. No big difference…. But GPT-4 alone got 88%. The doctors didn’t change their opinions when working with AI.”Play the role of the devil to my own optimism — how might this new tech change creative work? I believe we are entering an era where humans are challenged to be more creative. And creative in a way that kids shine — asking questions. It’s my experience that the median adult struggles to generate questions to answer; they are over index on finding answers. My experience with the median child is the opposite — they over index on asking questions. Working with AI, the ability to get better outputs from the technology is correlated to a user’s ability to craft useful prompts. Is the ability to ask better questions a result of a creative mind? In my opinion, yes. While I share the concern of many that AI may disrupt our lives in unpleasant ways. I also see the potential. I see myself becoming more creative in my thinking and more productive in my outputs. I see others experiencing the same gains. Nothing is ever too good to be true — and AI is no exception. And, simultaneously, it’s beautiful seeing how we adapt to an ever changing landscape.

Some people like to avoid conversations around death. I’m different.At the quantum level, a particle could be or could not be present — we only know once it’s observed. I take that and use it as a model for existence. You, faithful reader, could be here or you could not be here; it will only be once I see you whether I know you’re here. My idea about the impermanence of life gives me a freedom to adopt a realistic view on life and death. In a way, it’s the thought of death hanging over my head that motivates me to work harder, be more present, and to never take any moment for granted. I stress less. What’s the incentive to avoid death then? Personally, I don’t see one. I acknowledge that others might have had traumatic and horrible experiences losing a loved one. I can’t offer an insight to counter their experience, and I would never. I wonder if our avoidance is because deep within our mind there is a question that we are afraid to answer. That question might be: “Did we make the most of the time we had?” I fear the answer, for some, might be “no.”

I am playing a funeral today. I notice people investing lots of time and energy into making the service perfect. Attempts to keep things “cool” are obvious. I hear people give moving speeches about the deceased’s life and how they interacted with others. I see people showing up in black and dark colors — in grief. I think: Will the deceased ever know this happened? I wonder: Who are funerals for? I acknowledge that different groups of people have different views on death and rituals relating to death. It is not my intention to disparage those views. Rather, I intend to question my own views. I hypothesize: Perhaps funerals are not to celebrate the memory of the person who left. Perhaps funerals are ways to create a memory of what it was like to accept and move forward. It could be said, “well funerals are for honoring the dead?” For my own belief system, I wonder if the best way to honor the dead is to honor the living while they are with you. For every moment you’re in the company of someone else, make that moment count. Let that person, or those people, know how much that moment meant to you.It could be said, “funerals are a way to grieve.” I see that. I then wonder, does the flower and the stressed planning improve the effectiveness of my grieving process? Certainly saying “goodbye” to someone is tough. It’s sad to lose someone. While I hold that belief, I hold a parallel belief that every time I say goodbye to someone, I am saying “goodbye.” Until we meet again.

I’m playing a gig today. On the gig, I will play all kinds of music. I can play music the way it’s recorded. I can also add my own voice. Most musicians prefer a blend of the two — depends on the gig. For the gig I will play, I get to add my own flare. My musical voice is distinct. It’s a product of all that I listen to, have played, and have learned in my life. It’s slightly unrefined, soulful, happy, different, and full. Those are words others use to describe the sound. When I play and infuse my self into the music, I transmit who I am to the listener and to the other musicians. They experience what words can’t describe. I am translating myself so that others can understand me. Musicians that play with me often know how to understand my musical language. They know how to finish my sentences. Through my work as a translator, I have helped those musicians become fluent in “me”.Translation and transmission of self are daily acts.

A translator bridging the understanding gap of culture and language helped explorers, teachers, leaders, sales people, families and all types of human occupations for a very long time. A translator’s output is a function of their ability to comprehend context, language, tone, cultural norms, and attributes of two different culture (read: groups) and bridge the gap. I translate. I attempt to communicate my ideas to you in ways you might comprehend. Some translations are insightful, others jibberish. I translate for my team. I take business concepts and enable my team to understand and use these concepts in a way they understand. I translate myself to different groups of people. At a church, I attempt to translate my ideas in a way that’s respectful of the norms and traditions of church goers. In a business setting, I attempt to translate myself in a way that business executives accept. In my family, I attempt to do the same.You are no different than me. Our work every day is a work of translation. Perhaps the way we navigate the complexities of social interactions is to learn all we can through immersion and active engagement with different cultures of people so that we can translate and authentically transmit ourselves to them. That ancient skill whose value grows and compounds century-on-century.