Most couples in a happy relationship have a secret. They date a lot, a lot more than their fingers and toes combined. Similarly, people who love their work, tried many jobs.

It’s super rare to find a happy old couple who marry their first love. Yet, they are ones who get on the covers of the magazines, the ones that we use to write movie scripts and also the ones we’re all talking about.

That is the challenges in today’s culture, we are surrounded by Survivorship Bias. The ones who hit the jackpot, the couples in perfect matrimony.

It’s no surprise that we are hurt. We believe and put all our trust in our first love, being the last. And when that is gone, we are left with scars and vow never to love again.

The thing is most dating advice are bad, not because they are inherently so, but because there are no glib answers. There are no answers that apply to everybody.

Perhaps dating is a process. It is a process of self-discovery, testing your boundaries, feeling for your emotions, connecting with another person, being open to be vulnerable, compromising for each other, and above all, knowing that you are capable to love and to be loved.

(As you go about learning this for yourself, it’s important that you need to be upfront and state your intention. There is a human being on the other side. Don’t break their hearts.)

Go ahead and junk date. You owe it to yourself and the ones you love.


(26/12/19 Update: None of my past dates is junk. Junk dating is merely a process of finding out what I want, and what works for me.)

We dislike being told how bad we are (especially when we didn’t ask for it). Worse, to correct us in the midst of our happy doing and demand that their way is better.

They might have a better way. But by interrupting our attention with non-solicited advice, goodwill is diminished, the relationship is stressed and a learning opportunity is squandered.

(The exception: if there is any life-threatening danger, then yes, step in and take over.)

The simple solution: “Would you like some feedback on that?”

An invitation to suggest a better way, gaining permission to be in sync and enrolment for an opportunity to teach.

The posture of asking permission is how we interact with each other. Extending our hand for a handshake, opening our arm for a hug and leaning in for a kiss. We are asking for permission.

Yes, we might be rejected. But (I argue) it’s perhaps better than losing the precious relationship and permission you’ve worked so hard to earn.

Permission before advice. Because no one wants to hear how right you are and how bad they suck.

Compromising is a great idea, until generosity leads to grievance between those who give and those who take.

We enjoy working with people who are willing to accommodate, shift their posture to our needs. However, we would be a fool if we expect them to compromise endlessly.

Long-term relationships are built on alignment. It is when the thing that matters most to you is the same thing that matters the most to them.

Here’s an example: Mercedes make prestige cars that is unattainable to many and people want to send a message that they can pay a lot.

Mercedes doesn’t pretend to be the fastest, safest or coolest. They work hard to be reliably expensive.

Compare to the tense relationships which goals don’t align. These relationships are connected on a small opening but the deal was never fully understood or communicated.

The young chef exploring the culinary edges and the hungry diners that wants the same winning dish.

The venture capitalist plotting a hockey stick trajectory and the entrepreneur that wants to grow sustainably.

The architect graduate yearning to paint the skyline and the client wants a functional building.

This is no one’s fault but a lesson to learn about the edges, your edges. And perhaps to be compromising, it starts what you won’t compromise on.

A call came in at lunch, I had to get out of my co-working space ASAP. An event was happening, things needed to get done, and my stuff was getting in the way.

It turns out that the organiser had anticipated and prepared for it. An email memo was sent and alternative solutions were offered.

The problem is – I did not remember receiving the memo.

Wait… except actually, I did receive it. However, I heard something totally different. “Hey, there’s an event. Come join us”.

The difficult parts:
a. no one is waiting to hear from you.
b. you need to know who it’s for, what’s it for and precisely what you want them to do.
c. you have to have the guts to leave out everything that isn’t part of (b).

Consider a memo that was emailed to everyone in the office. The management sent it to 100 people, some got dropped into spam, and perhaps ten people read it and took action.

Here are some ideas that could level up the memo:

1. Pattern interrupt. When was the last time you listened to the seat belt announcement on an airplane? We ignore it because we’ve been trained to ignore it. Choose a different place, at different time, a different format.

2. Ten words per page. That how many words get read in the first pass. Which ten do you want someone to scan so they’re intrigued enough to slow down and read the rest? Help me scan instead of study.

3. Frame the message. Make it about me, my status, my needs. Create urgency.

4. Choose one intention. How many things are you trying to say? Should I attend the event or get out of the way. (Hint: two might be too many).

Take a look at the 2 different memos that were left outside every room of Hyatt hotel. Which is better?

If you’re committed for people to get the message, I think to you’ll find delivering it person, human to human, is a proven practice. And perhaps, the next best thing is a carefully crafted memo.

(h/t to Seth Godin)

Do you have a problem with gravity?

Because if it is not actionable, it is not really a problem, is it?

Except actually, you can relocate the earth’s orbit and pull that off. That just really hard.

Perhaps being angry and getting stuck by gravity (pun intended) is a choice.

We all have gravity problems. Our upbringing, where we are born, and ageing.

The easy part is to choose the ONE gravity problem to work on. The hard part is letting go (at least for now).

We don’t need to look very far to realise that the relationship between making money and making art isn’t what you might have guessed.

Enter an art gallery and you’ll be outraged at the price tag of paintings that a 7 years old could do. And yet many of your talented artist friends are starving.

In fact, making money and making art are unrelated skills.

So, let’s say you are really good at Origami. The problem is there’s no demand for Origami. You could spend years making the most beautiful Origami swan and trying to persuade people to pay you $10,000. It’s an uphill battle.

But it turns out that you can use Origami as a problem-solving technique. When your hands are busy with paper, your brain is freed up to be creative. Then, you can realise that really expensive meeting take place where people sit around a table, wasting time and money trying to brainstorm stuff. And maybe you could become a facilitator of those meetings, using origami as a tool to help people get tactile when they’re trying to solve a problem that’s not tactile. You’ll make a living still doing your art – doing it in a totally different way.

One way is to make better art. But what would happen if instead, we spend it on making people feel better?

Steph Smith  (@stephsmithio), 26 is the founder of Integral Labs where she works with top tech companies on scaling their products. 

After less than a year of learning to code (while having a full-time job), she has won the Golden Kitty award for inclusion, on Product Hunt. 

Steph writes a blog about remote work, women in tech and learning to code. 

These days when she is not at work, she is building Upread, a tool connecting indie publishers with their readers.

In this conversation, we spoke about:

  • Things women face in the tech industry
  • Steph’s transition from consulting to remote work
  • The ups and downs of remote work
  • and much more!

If you’ve only got 2 minutes, here’s a short video 

Links Mentioned

It’s entirely possible to teach without doing or making mistakes. We memorise formulas, regurgitate recipes, and recite entire piano melodies.

Yet the lessons that we carry around today are the most painful ones.

It turns out that once we know the answer, we stop asking. We stop wondering about the colours, the materials, the process and the uses in a different situation. How does this relate to that?

Free-range teaching is the act of giving questions, to show possibilities and to sit with the tension of knowing the answers.

“If the cafe doesn’t succeed in 6 months, what will do about it?”
“What about the people who don’t read the instruction?”
“What are the pros and cons of grandma adopting crypto-currency?”

As we go about helping others level up, we have the option to decide if it is a lesson is worth understanding. If it’s worth the struggle before something clicks.

It might be convenient to give the answer but when a new complex problem shows up, then don’t expect someone to out-perform google.

The alternative is an inconvenient way of teaching, free-range.