If you order a coffee in a cafe and they mistakenly give you the wrong one, do you:

a) let them know about the mistake and request the right coffee because that’s what you ordered? or;

b) suck it up and drink the wrong coffee (while resentfully promising to never come to this stupid cafe ever again) because you don’t want to “cause a fuss?”

Regardless of your answer, you can learn a lot about your personality by answering this questions and listening to this episode of The Imperfects podcast.

As for me? I’m in camp B, attempting to convince myself there’s no difference between a weak, soy, extra hot mocha and the long black that I ordered.

Am I on autopilot?

Because when we roll from meeting to meeting to meeting, it can be easy to glaze over into autopilot, nodding along and acting as if we’re listening. An alternative is to treat each meeting as if it were a takeoff or a landing. That is: a task that requires our attention, energy and concentration.

The brilliant Michelle Florendo recently pointed out that the opportunities presented to us through work and life are a bit like tennis practice.

On one side of the net sits a ball machine, firing ball after ball to the other side of the net. These balls represent opportunities.

Some we capitalise on perfectly having enough time and composure to hit a satisfying forehand back across the net. Others might come a little too fast or a little too slow, causing us to mishit, shank off the frame or swing and miss entirely.

Then there are the balls that hit us square in the face when we’re not ready. The ones that cause our eyes to water and an emotional outburst to occur where we throw the racket, look up to the sky and scream “I don’t even like tennis, especially when used as a metaphor!”.

The thing about a ball machine, though, is that there’s always another ball coming. The machine doesn’t care whether you hit the ball or the ball hit you. It certainly doesn’t care how you feel about it.

In life too, there is a constant stream of opportunities. We can view this stream as overwhelming and frustrating or we can view it as an opportunity to practice, improve and get better… Especially when we get hit in the face.

What do I value?

Because everyone has too much to do and not enough time to do it. The answer is unlikely do more so an alternative might be to do what matters.

Hat tip Kirsty Stark for calling me out this week and making me think about this question.

When in Paris recently my wife ordered a diet coke and received a glass of red wine. It was an insight into how ‘good’ our basic French was (it was terrible) as well as a fascinating example of how to respond to mistakes.

In this case we explained to the waiter (in even worse French) about the mishap, apologised for our terrible French and she proceeded to laugh and swap the drinks, without fuss. It was funny, a little bit awkward and easily fixed.

It got me thinking about all those times when we don’t laugh off a mistake. When we choose to avoid the awkward and get angry or frustrated at a miscommunication at work. When we take a mistake personally and create a story that someone is out to sabotage us rather than pausing to laugh at what might have transpired.

No-one wakes up in the morning hoping to make a bunch of mistakes. No-one hopes to miscommunicate and cause frustration. No-one wants to serve someone a red wine when they ordered a diet coke.

So what might it look like if we acted as such?

Hey legend,

Here’s a small collection of books and podcasts that I consumed in June, while eating my bodyweight in pasta, pizza, gelato and assorted pastries in France and Italy.

…

…

… well this is awkward.

Turns out I didn’t consume anything but aforementioned food groups.

Instead, I switched to using a different part of my brain (the part that decides “what will I eat next?”) and took some time out to rest.

For more on this novel concept, see this recent podcast. You didn’t think I’d leave you without at least ONE resource, did you?

When’s the last time you celebrated something awesome that a friend did? When’s the last time you celebrated something awesome YOU did?

Take inspiration from my brilliant friend Kirsty who created a #dailyawesomeness channel in Slack where we post our wins and celebrate one another. It has me noodling on instead of cutting down the tall poppy, what if we helped it grow?

Have you ever had the experience of hearing someone share an embarrassing, vulnerable story, and immediately feeling more connected to them? Like the time I wore shorts to a job interview with an Executive in a very formal government department.

It’s because our imperfections connect us.

So what if we lead with them? (See The Imperfects and Armchair Experts podcasts for great examples of how to do this).

PS. By some miracle, I still got the job.

What would it look like to be the world’s best boss?

Because as Seth Godin points out, we’re often our own worst boss, which has me curious on what would it take to flip that.

“The tone is wrong, the characters ring false and the humour is strained and simply awful. Don’t waste your time and money.“

“I loved every minute reading it. It had a whole new feel to it.”

These are two seperate reviews of the exact same book. Two humans having a completely different experience when faced with the same thing.

It’s baffling, hilarious and really quite reassuring.

Another moment of Sonder. Another reminder that no-one knows exactly what you know, believes exactly what you believe or cares for exactly what you care for. Another reason to lead with curiosity and empathy and ask: what might be happening for this person to make them feel this way?

The book in question? One from the Harry Potter series.

Why is the diameter so small?

Because Bo Burnham is a comedy genius and, well, I was really just looking for an excuse to share this clip from a few years back. It has a lazy 32 MILLION views.

It also makes me wonder: What else am I missing that’s right in front of me? Because he’s right, Pringles legitimately are too narrow.

There’s a story in the book Atomic Habits about a weightlifting coach who works with some of the world’s top athletes. When asked what separates the best from the others (ie people like me with obnoxiously long limbs and poor flexibility) he shares that beyond genetics and muscle mass he believes it boils down to ones ability to deal with the boredom of doing the same exercises over and over, session after session, year after year.

Three things I take from this:

1. Those who are world class at what they do aren’t always motivated and inspired. They get bored and feel like giving up just like the rest of us and;
2. While they might feel like skipping a session, those at the top of their game choose to show up anyway. They realise that the act of showing up is a skill.
3. At 6″7′ with 2 dinky hips and poor hamstring flexibility, I’ll never be a world class weightlifter.

How have you solved problems like this before?

Because chances are you already know what to do and you’re just afraid to commit because of FOPO (fear of people’s opinions).

Hey legend,

Here’s a small collection of books and podcasts that I consumed in May and recommend to your good self.

If you’re having trouble creating new habits or breaking current ones:

Atomic Habits by James Clear is a must read. Bonus: this week’s episode of The Long and The Short Of It unpacks some of the same ideas.

If you’re wondering what it sounds like to own your imperfections:

Tough by Terry Crews.

If you’re after practical guide to executive or leadership coaching:

The Coaching Manual by Julie Starr is a great starting place.

If you feel like a masterclass from two of my favourite creative thinkers, Debbie Millman and Seth Godin:

Checkout this interview.

That’s it for this month. If you’re feeling generous forward this email to a friend along with your completed Wordle, Quordle and Octordle just to remind them of your genius and tell them to join the list of legends that receives these posts in their inbox.

…marvelled at the sheer awesomeness of existence?

In listening to (and attempting to make sense of) some of the genius from David Whyte I was struck that us even being here on this particular day reading this particular blog post on a device that 50 years ago would’ve been considered science fiction is completely absurd and totally remarkable.

So what might change if we acted as such?

I was recently pushed an ad that started with this question:

Do you like GANTT charts?

I couldn’t believe it. GANTT CHARTS?! Does ANYONE like GANTT charts?! What the hell is this company talking about?!

Then I thought of the project managers and detail oriented planners of the world. Those who love talking about dependencies, timelines and milestones. The brilliant, operational geniuses like my partner, who keep the rest of us honest and on track. Where would we be without them?

This fiasco reminded me that if something is not appealing to us, that doesn’t make it wrong, stupid or ineffective. It just means it’s not for us (and that is okay).

For those of you who don’t know what a GANTT chart is consider an even more basic example: Horse riding boots are for those who ride horses, not for those who don’t. The opinion of non-horse-riding humans, no matter how loud they are, is largely irrelevant.

What if you had to make up a song on the spot with a friend about your favourite Ninja Turtle?

How would you approach it knowing there’s no time to prepare? What might you say? How would you keep people engaged without preparing a slide deck or speaker notes? What would you do when you make a mistake?

See below for a mind boggling example of said prompt (be warned: it contains expletives).

The lessons I see are many and varied. Most notably the spirit of the collaboration. It’s joyful, full of delight and has no attachment to perfect.

And while us mere mortals don’t have to do an improvised rap in front of millions of YouTubers, it does make me wonder: what if we showed up with with no scripts and no slides to our next meeting? What if we started with a prompt and proceeded to give everyone in the room equal space, time and permission to respond? What if we sought to build on each idea with as much joy as these two do, even the ones that don’t make sense?

I recently re-read the best selling book Atomic Habits by the brilliant James Clear which resulted in all sorts of aha moments and feelings of being kicked in the stomach.

It’s the kind of book you read out loud to your partner (even though she’s waiting to read it herself if you’d just hurry up and finish) while she’s trying to go to sleep. “Ohhh, listen to THIS part…”

On top of creating sleep deprivation to said partner it inspired a habit audit made up of 6 questions.

First looking at the current state of play:

1. What good habits do I currently have?
2. What bad habits do I currently have?
3. Who am I becoming as a result of these habits?

Then, looking at the ideal:

1. Who do I want to become?
2. What habits do I need to add to help me get there?
3. What habits do I need to remove to help me get there?

Over to you.

What might happen if you had 1 full week of no-meetings?

Because:

1. It’s easy get stuck in, and hang your identity on, the meeting industrial complex (a term I just invented)
2. It’s crazy how far fetched, non-sensical and/or scary that a week of no meetings can be for most of us

So what if we did the hard thing and created time and space to actually think deeply about a problem?

“I don’t have all the answers”

“I’m curious to learn more”

“What do you think?”

“I’d love to hear your perspective on…”

“What am I missing?”

“What are you noticing?”

“I don’t know”

“Let’s brainstorm some bad ideas”

“I learned this from…”

“I’m afraid of…”

When it comes to leading, humility is a superpower not a weakness. It builds connection, collaboration and innovation.