Business + Entrepreneurship – Page 3

What Your Job Is Not

Posted on March 12, 2012January 6, 2016 by Sarah K Peck

What is your job?

Or, more importantly, what is your job not?

One evening, late on a Friday night, I asked myself what I was accomplishing, and what I was achieving. Who am I working for? What’s the bigger picture? How am I making this happen?

Sometimes, to figure out what to do, you have to make a “do not” list. A “Your job is NOT” list.

So, frustrated, I scratched a few reminders and notes down in my journal. What am I doing? I thought. What really needs to be done?

Here’s a few:

Your job is not checking email.
Your job is not (just) making other people happy.
Your job is not to stay late.
Your job is not to be miserable.
Your job is not to make other people miserable.
Your job is not procrastinating.
Your job is not acting in a way that goes against your beliefs.
Your job is not to be bored.
Your job is not your life.

What is your job?

Your job is something you do.
Your job might help you to pay the bills.
Your job is a place to create great work.
Your job is to learn.
Your job is to bring your unique and necessary skillset to particular projects.
Your job is to excel.
Your job is to innovate, improve, and generate.
Your job is to to make your boss look great.
Your job is to use your judgment wisely.
Your job is to be the best professional you can be, given your knowledge, expertise and judgment.
Your job is to be a great teammate.
Your job is to make others’ work better.
Your job is to grow.

The “Working Vacation” or How I Briefly Escape From Insanity

Posted on March 2, 2012December 31, 2012 by Sarah K Peck

I’m on a slow retreat, one in which I escape–although not completely–from the working world. I’m taking a long weekend in Catalina, off the coast of southern California, to spend time with my family, catch up on writing, and slow down on the work-crazy that sometimes takes hold. (Okay, fine, it takes hold all the time.) I’m grateful, excited, and so joyful to be pausing for a minute to let my writing, reading, and exercise dreams expand to fill the day in its entirety. I am thankful that I can do this… in fact: I really could get used to this…

What is a working vacation? Sounds miserable, you might think. I’ll try to explain…

A working vacation

This morning, I got a note from a colleague, for whom I’m working on a presentation outline. I sent her a brief note that I’d be delayed in my presentation outline, asking if she would mind if I got it to her next week–and I confided that I was taking a working retreat to vacation and regroup, and to spend some time writing and observing. I worried for a bit that she would be upset by my lack of work ethic, by my missing the deadline–all worries I made up in my mind, naturally. Yet instead, she wrote back:

“Enjoy the space between work and leisure–it is a great place to work on big ideas. I’m looking forward to seeing yours.”

I couldn’t have said it better myself. It’s not about not working, per se, but taking myself out of context of everyday work, back and forth, to explore, dream, reflect, and think big. It’s when I play big, a phrase that Tara Mohr talks about, which I LOVE. It’s when I have the AH-HA! moments on the top of the mountain, when I shake off the insecurities and the banalities, when the frivolities of life ungrip themselves from my psyche, when I find that I’m no longer scurrying around in a HUGE FAT HURRY, cracked out on adrenaline and worried about getting everything done. In it, I realize that, YES, YES, I want to be working on these things, YES, what I’m doing is fun, and wow–my job is cool. More than that: what I dream of, create in my own space–these are projects worth pursuing.

Taking time off is so important as part of my process that I’m certain I wouldn’t be capable of the work that I do without regular, intermittent breaks. I’ve written about how the strict 9-5 doesn’t make sense to me, and I still agree: you need to work in the way conducive to greatness, not in a way prescribed by archaic remnants of past industrial societies.

I confess, too, that I sometimes hate posting the routine pictures on social networks of the “vacation,” where I look like I’m doing nothing all day, because it doesn’t capture, for me, what a working vacation really is. I’m as guilty as the rest of us (Oh, how I love photographs and pinning things on pinterest!) But I digress. I vacation. I retreat.

It’s about big ideas. It’s about balancing movement and reflection with learning, consumption, and creation. And here on the island, scribbling in my notebooks, I wrote this in a long-form message to one of my friends: “I like to ‘fill up’ from inputs such as reading, people, learning, studying, and then LOVE taking time to process, reflect, and percolate… mostly outside, in this crazy-beautiful world we get to live in.”

Because it is crazy-beautiful. We shouldn’t miss it with our heads down, cramming behind desks, adrenaline surging from the latest reprimand or arbitrary deadline.

No. It’s not about this.

It’s about taking time to live the balance that I crave, and really put into practice, now, the ability to be flexible, to work from anywhere, to change it up, to produce, create, and enjoy. To create moments of wonder and awe, and balance and love. To live.

How to take a working vacation

A working vacation, my definition: Taking a leave of absence from your current life and packing only the components that you want to bring, in order to be productive, inspired, relaxed, and restored.

Here are some rough notes about a working vacation–what I do, and why it works for me.

Leave your current context. Find somewhere new to go and set up shop. Go somewhere new. Some weekends in San Francisco, I’ll take a “writing vacation” and unplug from the internet, hole up in a favorite coffeeshop with my laptop, and work three back-to-back four-hour stints and just read, write, and write. The last time I did this, I wrote more than 15,000 words in a weekend. Exhausting? Yes. Exhiliarating? Completely.

Spend more than half the day away from the screen. For the better part of ALL OF HUMAN HISTORY, computers and sitting have not been a part of it. The greatest thing about vacation is that the computer seems less important, less toxic and controlling. Somehow, in the sounds of the rolling ocean and the vistas on the mountains behind me, the computer seems somewhat small and unimportant. I can’t help but get up and move around throughout the day. In an office, my patterns and habits become ingrained, and I forget that 10+ hours a day at a desk is not healthy or sane.

Find things to say No to. I’m on vacation from my full-time job–yes, vacation hours were used–and I told my colleagues I’d be in email contact for a few hours a day, but put up a vacation responder to remind folks that I’d be mostly out of touch. My personal rule? No more than 2 hours of work-related tasks per day. When you’re in the middle of coordinating big projects and deadlines, and pushing ideas forward, it can be hard to leave and carve out time for other projects. Sometimes it seems impossible. For me, the most important thing is leaving my desk behind and being clear on communication with my team that I’ll start back up again when I return next week.

Okay, so you should also plan a little in advance. It’s helpful for me to plan in advance (cue: when responding to people and coordinating life and projects, include a line that says, “I’ll be out of touch until Monday, but I can get back to you next week”). When saying No to things, I cue people in to when I’ll be available so I don’t leave projects or teams hanging.

Pack only what you really want to bring. This is critical. Leave the crap behind. Go on a vacation from obligation. Leave your unfound worries at home. Shirk some of your responsibilities, if you can. I said “No” to several projects and put them on hiatus to make space for other projects to have the full attention of my day. Often, I get so buried in the menial tasks related to organizing things and people, that I forget to carve out time for idea generation and creation. I set up an auto-repsonder on my main email accounts related to work and duties, and said no to bringing obsessive email with me. Instead, I packed 7 books I want to enjoy reading by the oceanside, a notebook with outlines for book ideas I have, a list of essays I’m working on, and two binders with my current projects that I want to catch up on.

Set goals. I love small time frames with clear goals. Even some weekends “Have no goals, except enjoy yourself!” This weekend, there are three big projects that I’m working on that I need to make space for, and have been impossible to finish in the wee hours of the night when I get home from my full-time job. Design projects; writing ideals; unfinished essays. When I started this long weekend, I set a project goal for each day, outlining the three major milestones I want to accomplish while here. Will I go on long bike rides? Absolutely. Jump in the ocean? (Um, have you met me?) Will I spend an hour in the jacuzzi bouncing ideas around late at night with my family? Of course. This is all part of it. And for several hours in the mornings and again post-dinner, I’ll be tackling these big projects because I want to. And I can.

Move. I have a personal head-over-heels relationship with fitness, movement, dancing, prancing, swimming, running, and all things movement. I think our bodies are marvelous, wonderful things, and the greatest sin of our lives is to waste them away by sitting behind screens. Vacations should be rejuvenating to the mind, soul, and BODY. Get out for a slow hike, a walk, a stretch, a paddle, a jog. My dad calls his running “happy trotting,” — this is your happy pace. Your place where it’s comfortable and fun, and where you walk when you want to walk and stop when you want to stop. But by all means, move.

But don’t take my word for it–Richard Branson says the most important thing he’s done for all of his productivity and success is to work out every day. Countless articles on fitness and health say that moving, walking, standing, stretching and meditation are world-changing for your productivity, success, and long-term health. One of my favorite outdoor fitness programs in San Francisco talks about why movement is important for life: “When people start to move around with others every day, they start to get a sense of what they’re capable of and what they’re built for.” Yes.

Make a dedication. On this island, the sun rises in the east over the Pacific, a luxury not experienced on the mainland of the States. When I wake up in the morning, I walk outside and greet the sun and the day, sleepy-eyed, in my pajamas, and I make a dedication to myself, to this process, to the projects, and remember how grateful I am to be doing all that I am doing. It involves a big stretch, some toe-touches, and a happy smile, among other things. This weekend, I’m dedicating to observing, watching, and rejuvenating my creative spirit by balancing playfulness with ample time for creation.

On a personal note, my goal is to write at least 1000 words every day in March, mostly short stories and explorations. I’ve been remiss in writing lately and it affects everything else I do. Or, as this excellent NPR article covered earlier this week–what you’re holding in your unconscious brain is actually killing you. Let it out. Take this as a cue that writing soothes and restores your soul and keeps you healthy. It’s not a hobby. It’s a necessity.

Hopefully these notes help you. Sometimes a weekend away, a day off, is really what your soul needs. Listen.

End note: Don’t miss out, or When I give in, I lose.

I’ll close with a short story that crossed my mind while climbing up a hill earlier today on a big bike–a two hour hill that challenged my leg strength quite a bit. It was 3 PM in the afternoon, and I was a bit weary of reading and writing, and the lazy slump of post-afternoon stress started to inhabit my mind. I hadn’t worked out that well in a few days and my cells were starting to feel sluggish, lazy, full and fat with unused glucose molecules. I looked at the couch. I could just sit here for a while… I thought to myself. I had told Carol that I’d go on a big bike ride with her in the afternoon. My mind said, you know, you could just do it tomorrow.

But I knew, somehow, that I had wanted to do the ride, and that I would still like to do it. But getting over the sluggish me is not easy.

I should go, I thought reluctantly. Carol quipped: Stop thinking! Let’s just go! So I put on my helmet and we started up the hill. Yes, it was hard. And then, within thirty minutes, we pulled around the corner of the first hill and I saw this:

I grinned. I realized that I had, once again, almost canceled on a beautiful ride because I was afraid of a little hard work. We continued up the hill. How could I have missed this? Skipping out on a little hard work–a tough hour on the bike, pedalling, something which we are all capable of, and missing out on the views, fresh air, sunshine, and satisfaction? My brain is crazy! She is crazy, I tell you! And I realized:

In general, if I talk myself out of doing something, I like myself a little bit less.

Every time I concede to the monkey brain, I lose.
My brain is wired to keep me safe, to protect me from danger, to want to fit in with the crowd. It wants me to keep me from hard things. I have to fight this.
Because doing things, exploring, creating–this is life’s meaning.
Living with others, loving, having meaningful relationships. This is it.

So fuck the monkey brain. Do it anyways. It doesn’t know what it’s talking about all the time.
There’s a lot waiting for you if you’ll let go of the nerves, reluctance and fear.
And if you skip out on an opportunity, you lose.

If I listened to it unwaveringly, I would miss out on so many opportunities for wonder, growth, and exploration.

To live is to work, and to love.

Paraphrasing the distinguished quantum physicist, Freeman Dyson, in an article from the Economist:

“To be healthy means to love and to work. Both activities are good for the soul, and one of them also helps to pay for the groceries.”

Yes.

When The Going Gets Tough…

Posted on February 3, 2012December 31, 2012 by Sarah K Peck

Hiking through urban Taipei, Taiwan as part of a landscape project.

You’re probably heard the phrase before:

When the going gets tough … the tough get going.

Sometimes, when the going gets tough, I want to head home, curl up in my favorite blankets, turn the lights down low and eat cookies and watch TV. (That’s my escape, at least). Sometimes, I get so overwhelmed with the projects in front of me, with my dreams and aspirations, and with the sheer amount of work on my plate that I just want to give up, stop, quit, throw my hands up in exasperation, or just plain hide out for a while.

And, as a small confession: sometimes–actually a lot of times–I do hide out. I look at the person who was writing and smiling confidently a few days before and I peer out from behind the virtual mirror like a kid hiding inside a big store, wide-eyed in the corner, watching, and I wonder–I did that? I can do that? It’s not possible … it’s just me over here!–and for a short time I retreat back into my home space, escape the world with some good old-fashioned “Terrible Television,” procrastinate like mad, and eat delicious cookies. You might call it my vice.

But, when I’m done hiding out–or on the days when hiding out isn’t a proper option, because often, as much as we want it to be it’s not–I have to come back into reality and figure out how to deal with the tough stuff. This year has at times been a particularly tough one–and at the same time, an amazingly wonderful one. It’s like each time I make it through a challenge or adventure, life ups the ante. And yet each time I face the new obstacle, I have more confidence and gumption because I tackled those previous challenges and made it through most of them.

The best way to build confidence is by doing things. Not by thinking. Not by worrying.

Sometimes the hardest part of the race is getting started. One step at at time is all it takes. Ask anyone who’s already finished.

Breathe in, breathe out. There’s beauty in adversity. Maybe do a handstand or two. And get back into the ring.

When the going gets tough … the tough get going.

The expectation: achievement dance

Posted on January 31, 2012January 30, 2012 by Sarah K Peck

“Achievement is rarely is in line with expectation; and if it is, dream bigger.”

Each time you cross the threshold and reach a goal; a goal set forth determinedly by your younger self, you may encounter both a sense of satisfaction and a sense of gnawing expectation for more, for greater. As your abilities expand and your potential grows, you’ll continue to leap-step your mind past your achievements, dreaming of the next idea and project long before you finish the current ones.

Take a moment to celebrate your current victories, and then push the envelope another turn and see what else you are capable of. Have fun.

The 9-to-5 Doesn’t Always Make Sense. How I Work: Discipline. Differences. Structures. Boundaries. Freedom.

Posted on January 16, 2012July 31, 2017 by Sarah K Peck

Sometimes my Grandpa says I work too hard. I try to tell him that my work is not the same as work used to be. I work late. I work early. I take breaks in the middle of the day.

He points to the clock. It’s 6’o’clock, he says, wobbling over his cane and tapping on the table where I’ve got my laptop opened. It’s time to stop working, he commands.

I agree, and I also completely disagree. I’ve just finished taking a half hour break to chat with friends and colleagues online–spirited discussions and meeting new people and reading and networking like a champ–and now I’ve got to get back into my grind and focus on the production, the creation that I do every day.

I live in a new world, perhaps, at least to my parents and grandparents. I work in bursts of creation, usually 90 minutes to 3 hours in length, inset by pauses for lengthy conversations, connectivity, explorations, learning, and movement. My days–my sometimes 16-hour days–begin with walks, meander through coffee with great thinkers, are sometimes propelled by spurs of insane connectivity in the middle of the day, outreaching and coordinating with editors and speakers and writers and clients–and then in between it all I nestle down for sessions of quiet solitude filled with reading, writing, creation, drawing. I shutter down each day from the internet, often hours at a time (forgive me, twitter, but I schedule you out at times to play along, but I’m a ghost; not really there as much as it might appear). During these shutter hours I focus, focus, driven by purpose and deadline, and mostly, discipline.

These structure and boundaries give parameters for freedom; space to think within the allotted lines, which inevitably bend and give way once I gallop and leap beyond them. Loose, dashed lines of constraints provide the discipline required for invincible creativity, and I thrive in the flexibility and structure provided by these bare-bone parameters. As Jonah Lehrer has written, one of the paradoxes of the human condition is that we are more creative with boundaries; our freedoms and productions tend to increase within constraints, to a certain degree.

The simple recipe of 9 to 5 has no resonance with me; many suggest that the 9 to 5 is antiquated, a thing of the past. I can neither sit still nor think for eight hours, let alone be in one place or with one task. Everything about that schedule is arbitrary–the start time, the end time, the things that we must produce within that set amount of time. The only thing left is an antiquated system that we perpetuate because we don’t have the courage to think differently.

We have moved quickly, cleanly beyond an industrial age where outputs were set (“build 18 shoes, please, and send them down the conveyor belt”) a time when we knew exactly when our works’ work was done; beyond the infrastructure of the giant corporation, the relic of the 1950’s-2000’s, to today: today, we live in a world where information is ubiquitous and overwhelming, and being ‘done’ with work is never truly over. A world where information threatens to take over globally, yet somehow this collection of voices creates so much noise that it pulls us locally again, towards communities and coffee shops, to social circles that we can trust instead of constantly test (for being on top of information at all times takes far too much energy for the individual). In all of this, creative and intellectual pursuits require exceptional discipline, or else these individuals can become swallowed by the banal of chasing information and products that yield no results.

The 9 to 5 schedule, too, strikes at the wrong hours of the day for my scheduling. For me, 9 am falls in the middle of my best hours, and 5 pm at the middle of my worst hours. In any given day, I probably only have 5 hours of ‘great’ work time, time when I’m focused on writing and complex problem solving; I regard these hours as fundamentally precious and push everything to the wayside during these times. I have time for lower-level thinking tasks (batch email sending, task responses, errands, etc) – and if I don’t match my energy levels to the projects’ needs, I’ll end the day frustrated, discouraged, and unsatisfied. Trying to write during the slump of a post-lunch warm afternoon is what I call awful.

And so, I have both a peculiar and wonderful schedule. I wake up early, sometimes really early. I write in the lonely morning hours, silent and still, peaking by 10am and entering the flurry of the working world–and my job–turning onto the networks for a while, answering calls as they come in. On a lucky day, I’ll close the office door, turn off the phones, and continue to write until 11 or noon. On a ~~bad~~ busy day, I’ll have meetings all morning, eroding the precious hours of productivity with talking. (I’ll amend that: the busy, coordination days are not my favorite, but they are what set the stage for later days of productivity and creation. It’s more likely than not that I need a balance of both, that one doesn’t exist without the other). Still, I take steps to arrange meetings only during times when my energy levels match the needs of collaborating with others. Knowing that I only have a few “good” hours each day makes me carve out time differently.

I am a fastidious multi-tasker; in that I do many tasks throughout the day and let some percolate in the back of my mind while focusing most of my energy on the job at present. (This is distinctly different from trying to do things at the same time. Rather, this form of “multi-tasking” is akin to multiple burners, one on high, several on simmer. I think you’ll burn the food if you try to cook it all on high at the same time; but you can have ideas brewing on the back burner, certainly). Through it all I follow my energy flows closely, watching when my exhaustion peaks, when my lethargy sits, when my vivaciousness is at a high; and I match the tasks at hand to the problems I need to solve.

When I switch from writing to design, the office changes again, transforming into a new space to produce: I design best to pulsating music, so my office–or my coffee shop, wherever I am working–turns into a pseudo-dance party, techno beats and rhythms coloring the flurry of my designs. Most days involve dancing, thinking, and dancing again.

Throughout it all, I set targets and goals and deadlines, knowing the importance of self-discipline above all else–and in the mornings, I write out fresh post-it notes with clear, tangible goals and deadlines. With each, I strive to hit the 4 pm or 5 pm mark, a practice I’ve honed over years of incremental steps. My habits are reinforced daily: I know now that the projects have to be finished; to me, it makes sense to then try to do everything I can to finish them early. Deadlines are arbitrary; work expands to fill the space you give it. The sooner I get done with a design puzzle or a press release or a meeting, the sooner I can get back to precious creation. No sense in wasting time.

And then, to dream, to kick on my dreamers’ hat again, and to watch the world, grasping the importance of being and the inspiration that’s required for any good work, I walk. And I walk a lot, exploring and moving frequently. Usually at least once between 3 pm and 7 pm–these are the times when during a puzzlement of problems, or of mounting frustration, I’ll push back my chair, stand up, spritz sunscreen on, grab my hat and keys, and wander. I leave the closed, strange office environment and sometimes I break into a run or a sprint, and I run, work pants rolled up, shoes exchanged for sneakers hidden underneath my desk, blouse replaced by a long-sleeved shirt. And I’ll run until I’m out of breath, looking out on the Sausalito waters, shaking my brain’s thoughts around until they settle like loose chips in a bucket, falling individually into place. Within a half an hour, I’m back at work, back at the desk, and without fail, the brain is working again–

–and it’s like morning, when I get back from a walk, and I’m ready. I eat, and I sit, and I take the next chunk of time, usually 2 hours, and I figure stuff out and get it done. In a precious day, sometimes up to 3 days per week, I’ll hit a second stride and find a creative flow to work for 3-4 hours. And I’ll chase it, producing quietly and steadily, building a stream of writing and coloring my desk with designs and drawings, and I’ll sigh at the end, satisfied, full, and tired.

Each day is different. The days the focus stays, I’ll finish a project with a 4-hour stint, coming home late to a glass of wine and a quiet yoga session. Other days my brain is clouded and maxed and I leave early, taking the afternoon to rest and recover and interact and play.

And that, that’s what I can’t say with my eyes when I look at my Grandpa. It’s just one thing that’s different in the world from when he used to work and the way that I work. His calculus, diff-e-q, tangential brain sits me down and marks up notes on electrical circuitry and my infantile, kinesthetic self squirms at being forced to sit; I feel my skin itch and crawl with the inability to roam free; and I know that it’s not just the generational differences that are at play. I must be free. Free to create. And you? You, do what works for you.

Put it out there.

Posted on May 27, 2011May 27, 2011 by Sarah K Peck

At some point, you need to let go. Stop holding on to the project. Take your hands off the working table and put the tools down. Put it out in the world.

What’s worse than a “good” project is a project that never sees daylight.

Most projects can be iterated. Most projects can get better – even after they launch. The trajectory of a project’s lifespan does not end at “publish.” Half the time it gets better when you put it out there for feedback.

A few weeks ago I almost pulled the plug on a big project I’ve been working on for over a year. Definitely a disaster. Cue the trusty quotes and the stores of inspirational knowledge I have built up for the terrifically-terrible meltdown moments:

“When you hit a wall with an idea or project, before you back up or give up, get help.” – by Matt Brown of Klutz Books.

So I got help. I sent a lengthy email to my advisors. I took a short break. I got advice.

They said: Stop working. Finish. Put it out there. Set your expectations lower for the first iteration and make it happen faster. Don’t hold on to the idea so tightly. Stop trying to control everything. Set a deadline. And put it out there.

Ideas are pretty worthless, really. Everyone has ideas. It’s what you do with them that’s important. Projects are key. Projects that launch are even better (although you can learn from everything you kill or don’t finish, too) – but find something to finish and put it out there.

Make it through that last 10%.

What’s the worst that can happen?

Simple wisdom: The five things you need to do to be a good entrepreneur

Posted on March 21, 2011July 20, 2011 by Sarah K Peck

I recently got some really simple (but great!) advice on how to be an entrepreneur.

There are only 5 things you need to do every day to make sure you’ll make it.

Sleep

Eat well

Exercise

Be social

Get the work done.

It turns out it’s really hard to get #5 without the first 4.

13 Outstanding Business Ideas from REWORK: Cut the Crap, Do What Needs to be Done, and Get Real (Book Notes)

Posted on February 10, 2011 by Sarah K Peck

If Seth Godin tells you to read something, you better freaking read it.

I’m on a plane back from LA, enjoying the peace and quiet of a non-wireless flight with no distractions. I’m re-reading the book REWORK, on my to-read list for 2011, and highlighting the best parts.

I’m trying desperately to ignore the sumptuous McDonald’s bag being consumed next to me (tiny little airplane seats!), or the blare of the noise from the headphones from all the people around me blankly watching movies.

When did I get so old to think that reading, writing, thinking, and moving were such wonderful inventions?

I suppose we do live in a world of zombies.

I digress. I’m on a plane. I’m scratching this out, pen-and-paper style, on my ever-present notebook.

REWORK, written by the guys behind 37 Signals, is an unconventional book about business and about getting things done.

It’s refreshing. For everyone who thought that the ways we work are inefficient, who has questioned the value of meetings or debated the validity of staying late simply for staying late, REWORK tells the story of other, better ways to make fantastic things happen.

Written in an engaging, quick, and grabbing way (no chapter is longer than a handful of pages; each idea is accompanied by a great illustrative), REWORK can be skimmed, it can be pulled apart, and you can read it starting from any place in the book. You’ll want to read the whole thing, but it won’t take long.

Great.

Jason Fried and David Heinemeier Hansson’s mission statement is simple:

“We’re an intentionally small company that makes software to help small companies and groups get things done the easy way.”

I have a confession to make. I LOVE their products. I’m a fan of basecamp (use it to freelance as a project management software and I’ve recently integrated it into daily use in my career job) and the other platforms – backpack, an internet knowledge-sharing tool, and Campfire, a business chat tool. Best part? They are open-source (just like wordpress, the platform I use to run this blog) – in their invention of the computer programming framework Ruby on Rails.

Alright, I’ll stop geeking out on you (but I LOVE geeking out. I like knowing how things work. … and am always uber-impressed by the people who make the magic of the internet happen: you are ALL my HEROES.)

Let’s get to the good stuff: my favorite bits and important notes from the book:

1. “The truth is, you need less than you think.” If you’re waiting for the right set-up, more money, or more time, then you’re making excuses. You can probably make it happen with what you have right now. RIGHT NOW. (If you can’t figure out what you need to get started or what’s holding you back, you’ll have a hard time making it)

2. “Less is a good thing.” Embrace constraints. People make excuses all the time – their response is simple: “constraints are advantages in disguise. It forces you to be creative.”

3. “You’re better off ignoring the competition.” Just make a good product. Worry less about comparing yourselves to others or spending too much time running analyses. Just make a good product.

4. “You don’t need to be a workaholic.” Workaholism is stupid. Work less, do more. “Workaholics aren’t heroes. They don’t save the day, they just use it up. The real hero is already home because she figured out a faster way to get things done.” CHEERS to that!

5. “All you need is an idea, a touch of confidence, and a push to get started.” Instead of calling them entrepreneurs, REWORK calls people who put ideas to action “STARTERS.” There are thousands of people making profits and doing what they love, on their own terms, and getting paid for it. They created businesses. All it took was just getting started. (I love this idea – absolutely love it – eee! more on that coming soon!)

6. “What you really need to do is stop talking and start doing.”

7. “Make a dent in the universe.” “Great work comes from making a difference, and feeling as though you are making people’s lives better. When you find what you’re meant to do with your life, you do it.”

“You should feel an urgency about this,” they write. “You don’t have forever. This is your life’s work.”

8. “Ideas are plentiful and cheap.” Having an idea means nothing. Ít’s what you do that matters, not what you think or plan. MAKE SOMETHING. Just start creating.

9. “Have a point of view.” You can’t possibly agree with everyone. That makes you boring – and uninteresting. Have a point of view. Be particular about how you think things should work.

10. “Cut your ambition in half.” This seems counterintuitive at first. But the point is true: “You’re better off with a kick-ass half than a half-assed whole.” Lots of things get better as they get shorter. That’s why the book was cut in half. Cut out the stuff that’s merely good.

“You probably have stuff you COULD do, stuff you WANT to do, and stuff you HAVE to do. Start with what you HAVE to do.”

The world needs curators and editors.

11. Get real. “Test a prototype right away. Do it. Don’t make a proposal out of it, don’t sell an idea, don’t write a memo. Do the thing you’re going to do.”

12. “Interruption is not collaboration, it’s just interruption.” “And when you’re interrupted, you’re not getting work done.”

13. “Long stretches of time alone are when you are the most productive.” “Ever notice how much work you get done on a plane since you’re offline and there are zero outside distractions?” Funny I should re-read this sentence now. I’m on a plane.

This is a GREAT book. It captures the essences of productivity and time management and tells you to get off your butt, beat the status quo, focus on ONE THING, and test it work on it like crazy.

Enjoy.

Category: Business + Entrepreneurship