Insight isn’t as mysterious we make it out to be.
The nature and origin of insightful thinking, the cognitive neuroscience that drives the insight process, not to mention the history of how artists successfully used insight to fuel innovation, are all widely documented.
But here’s the part of the process we miss.
Developing insight is only half the work.
Delivering it is the other half.
And if our job as leaders and innovators and thinkers and advisors is to contribute meaningfully to the growth and well being of every person connected to us, we can’t just disappear into our own heads. Insight is a social transaction. It’s not just theory, it’s theater. It requires motion. The sharing of our thinking is the act of gratitude that finishes the labor.
Once we create that pivotal moment with our audience, when the intellectual meets the interpersonal, when we deliver insight in such a way that it becomes fundamental to someone’s worldview, we start to make a real difference in people’s lives.
I’ve seen it happen. Dozens of times. And on both sides of the insight coin, too.
I’ve had conversations with people whose insight sent shockwaves through my system and changed my life for the better, and I’ve had conversations with people who said that one of my insights changed the way they approached their work for the better.
And the same patterns always emerge:
Insights that are delivered in interesting, packaged, original, actionable and relatable ways, exert the greatest amount of influence.
Next time you go to work creating insight for your audience, execute against these five categories as a strategic audit for your insight delivery process:

INTERESTING 
1. How provocative is your word choice? 
2. How dangerous are the ideas behind your words? 
3. Are you offering a new way of looking at a problem? 
4. Does your insight give perspective or just information? 
5. What is your audience’s physical, bodily reaction to your insight?
PACKAGING 
1. Is your insight inherently rhythmic and easily repeatable? 
2. How much time did you spend on the theater of presenting the insight? 
3. Does your insight gain weight and truthfulness with each mental repetition? 
4. Is this the right message, in the right place, at the right time, to the right person, in the right proportion?

ORIGINALITY
1. Have you googled your insight to gauge its uniqueness?
2. Does your insight contain any recycled language or secondhand wisdom?
3. Have you coined a new word, and therefore, created a new world?
4. Do you understand this with your life, fully believing what you understand and incapable of disbelieving it? 
ACTIONABILITY1. Does your insight contain meaningful concrete immediacy?2. What are you connecting your insight to that helps it travel?3. How does your insight make people proud to take the first step?4. Will your insight make people think, I believe this, I can do this and I want to try this?
RELATABILITY1. Is your story big and important enough to believe?2. Can people easily superimpose their own meaning onto your story?3. Do your words equip people to spot the new story with their own eyes?4. What’s already in your audience’s head that you can hang your insight next to?5. How does your insight expresses what others can’t think, say or feel on their own?
That’s the difference maker.
Combining intellectual development with interpersonal delivery.
Real insight requires both.

Identity crisis is a group effort.
It may manifest in the individual, but it’s magnified by the collective.
When you realize you’re done doing that which defined you, giving up a self that you have come to identify with and call our own, courageously leaving behind a world you know so well––maybe the only world you’ve ever known and felt home in––the first brand of devastation that manifests is existential.
Imagine an entrepreneur who retires or quits or sells her company after ten years of painstaking work. It’s like she doesn’t know who she is without the business. Nor does she know how to cope with reality in its absence. She’s become a stranger to her own life.
But then comes the other brand of devastation.
When the identity crisis magnifies socially.
And it makes perfect sense.
Humans understand the self in the context of other people. We regulate our emotions and understand the world by connecting with others. And we form our identities based on what we hear ourselves say to people.
Back to our example of the entrepreneur. Without the company attached to her anymore, other people don’t know to relate to her anymore. Because for so many years, that was her chief form of identification. She made the business the most important thing about her. People couldn’t tell where she ended and the company began. And in their eyes, she was always going to be nailed to that cross.
But that’s my work, not my whole self, she says to herself.
Exactly.
Since identity is a social construct, until she changes her attitude about what her role in the world is, nobody will be able to tell the difference between her work and her whole self.
Which means, she needs to reeducate people. To teach them how to treat her and what to call her. And to live her life in a way that proclaims to the world:
I am bigger than my past. I am surrendering my case history. I am outgrowing yesterday’s definition of myself. I am becoming more than what I am known for. I am living larger than my labels.

And with a ton of work, slowly, the new self starts to emerge.

Leadership isn’t about having power over others.
It’s about giving people the freedom to be themselves.
Inviting them to discover pieces of themselves that were lost or undernurtured, encouraging them to exploit talents they might never exercise anywhere else, allowing them to show off the luminous parts of their identity that exist beyond personality and inspiring them to become who they always were but had, until then, been afraid to embrace and to live out.
That’s the real power.
You say to people:
You no longer have to fight to be who you want to be. I want to see you exactly as you always are.
Which makes people a bit uncomfortable at first.
And they think to themselves:
Should I sand off all the interesting edges? Should I chase away my shadows? Should I remove my soul before I come inside? Should I keep hidden my most secret compartments?
So you say back to them:
Never. Who you are is not up for public comment. I am not here to prove you wrong in how you live your life.
How often you having those conversations with people?
Emerson once said that being yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment, but I would argue that person who gives others the freedom to be themselves, is equally as accomplished.
Be someone’s permission slip.
Help people become what they are.

I’m fascinated by the things in life that will never lie to you.
Dogs and children and nature and mirrors and dumbbells and thermometers and bank accounts and human bodies, these are humanity’s greatest reference points, the givers of perspective, the beacons of truth we can always turn to.
Especially in moments of uncertainty.
When you’re sitting across the table from a person who can potentially hire or buy or date or join or whatever verb will cause your relationship to move to the desired level, you’re always on the lookout for signals. Unconscious indicators of interest. Personal tells in the poker game of human interaction.
And there are millions of varieties, but here are my two favorites:
If the person you’re talking to starts taking notes, congratulations. It’s a silent compliment of the highest order. Taking notes is proof of interest, attention and message reception. It shows that what you’re saying is worth capturing, considering, saving and revisiting. And that the other person might take action on something you said. After all, if you don’t write it down, it never happened, right? Right?
If the person you’re talking to checks the time and the conversation doesn’t end, congratulations. Time is the most valuable asset people don’t own. The story they tell themselves about time is the overriding narrative of their day-to-day lives. And if they weren’t interested in deepening the relationship, they would’ve ended the meeting by now. After all, nobody has time for anything or anyone anymore, right? Right?
Follow the pen, follow the clock.
They will never lie to you.

Sentences are my spiritual currency. 

Throughout my week, I’m constantly scouring and learning and reading and annotating from any number of newspapers, blogs, online publications, books, articles, songs, art pieces, podcasts, eavesdroppings, random conversations and other sources of inspiration.
Turns out, most of these sentences can be organized into about eleven different categories, aka, compartments of life that are meaningful to me. And since I enjoy being a signal tower of things that are interesting, I figured, why not share them on a regular basis?
In the spirit of “learning in public,” I’ve decided to publish a weekly digest of my top findings, along with their respective links or reference points. Sentence junkies of the world unite!
Creativity, Innovation & Art 
“Navigators need the stars to structure their voyages, and artists also need other points of reference to stay on course,” from The Artist’s Way Every Day.
Culture, Humanity & Society 
“An amateur shopper is somebody who gets pleasure out of the act of acquisition, but a professional shopper is someone who takes pride in ownership,” from the Tom Peters Cool Friends Interview with Paco Underhill.
Identity, Self & Soul 
“Our players are very skilled, but what really matters is what type of people they are,” from an article about Brazil’s psychological edge.

Lyrics, Poetry & Passages 
“Big bugs too lovely to squish,” from an art project about beautiful insects.
Meaning, Mystery & Being 
“Every human being is somewhere on the journey between belief and unbelief,” from Saving Casper by my friend Jim Henderson.

Media, Technology & Design 
“The founders threw a bat and a ball on a field and the users invented baseball,” from Duct Tape Marketing.
Nature, Health & Science 
“Smoking cured everything, it could be anything I needed it to be,” from an article about returning to addiction.

People, Relationships & Love “Use your creativity to bring happiness to others,” from the latest edition of the Zappos Culture Book.

Psychology, Thinking & Feeling
“Jackhammer some rational thought into the debate,” from Scott Adams.
Success, Life & Career“I don’t want so much hard work and love to disappear in exchange for a pile of cash,” from an essay on your irrelevance strategy. 

Work, Business & Organizations“Don’t make it easy for people to share your product, make it easy for them to share themselves,” from Hugh Macleod.

See you next week!

You can’t cure loneliness with warm bodies.
Only the right bodies.
Joining a club or becoming part of a group or getting hired at a new company quickly buys you a baseline of belonging, but if you start to discover the organization is filled with people whose mental, physical and moral temperament is incompatible with your own, after a while, the loneliness starts to creep back in.
And the problem is, you don’t notice it at first. Because it’s not your typical brand of loneliness. Unlike the bonafide social isolation that leads to chronic inflammationand premature death, this type of loneliness is more insidious. It comes in a much lower dosage. So much so, that when you’re surrounded by other human beings, your eyes actually tell you that you’re not alone.
Which is true. Physically.
But the eyes betray you. They don’t realize warm bodies aren’t enough. They don’t realize loneliness is a multi-sensory experience. They don’t realize feeling less alone in the world requires something beyond material nourishment.
The heart, on the other hand, begs you. It knows what home feels like. It’s knows who the right people are. It knows that true belonging comes from surrounding yourself with like minded, like hearted and like spirited individuals.
That’s the organ you should listen to.
Considering that loneliness has become the most common ailment of the modern world, it may take more work than you thought to satisfy your basic belonging needs.
All hearts on deck, people.

The other day I was reading a bodybuilding and fitness forum when I stumbled across something that really disturbed me.
It wasn’t so much the picture of the guy with biceps the size of trashcans, but the headline written above him:
I’m so obsessed with success, I barely smile.
That broke my heart a little. Probably because I saw a part of myself in that post. Not so much the muscles, but the mentality.
Dig.
I live in a city where eight million centers of the universe are scrambling around town, building their personal real estate, froggering their way to the front of the line.
And because of that, I’ve actually discovered a newfound pleasure in reeling it in a bit.
Turns out, there’s more to life than being successful. Turns out, it’s amazing how sublime and quiet and simple and weightless life can feel when you’re not running around making it all the time.
With nothing to fear, nothing to lose, nothing to hide and nothing to prove, you’re finally free to focus on the present. You can just be here, now. You can shake off the cobwebs of the past while the future, which you once perpetually gripped with quiet panic and tight anxious hands, can disafuckingppear from plain sight. And from that place of joyful lucidity, there’s actually room to pursue life’s more existential achievements.
Happiness. Satisfaction. Wholeness. Meaning.
You’re building your existential real estate, not just your biceps.

                                            

We don’t care if you know everything.

We care if you can participate in deep, thoughtful conversations about anything.

That’s a completely different skill. An infinite game, if you will. In which you’re not playing to win, but playing to keep the game going. Where it’s less about intellectual firepower and more about curiosity and vulnerability and enthusiasm and patience and maybe even a little bit of wow I never thought about it that way.
Improv comedy has a similar model.
My wife and I spent a summer taking classes at a local theater company. Not only were they some of the funniest moments of our lives, but some of the healthiest communication tools we learned as a couple.
As our instructors told us, it’s not about being the funniest person on stage, constantly inventing punch lines to get a cheap laugh from the audience. It’s about saying yes and serving the scene. It’s about looking into someone’s eyes and feeling their reactions. It’s about responding honestly to people’s realities. And it’s about keeping the ball in play no matter what, fully committing to whatever rabbit hole you go down.
Conversation should be like that.
Songwriting has a similar model as well.
I’m reminded of one of my favorite books, Unintentional Music, a program for using openness and acceptance to get the most out of the creative process. The subject matter of the book mostly revolves around music, but there’s still a lot we can glean from an conversational standpoint.
As the author writes, focus on the music people do not intend to make. Align yourself with the flow of process. See disturbing or unwanted things as potentially meaningful. Stay open to what you are typically closed to. Rather than judging experiences, just be with what is. When something arises, let it come, and when something disappears, let it go. And learn to love whatever happens and trust that it will lead you to where you ultimately need to go.
Conversation should be like that.
And the best part is, you don’t need to be a know-it-all to make that kind of interaction happen.
If you want to participate in deep, thoughtful conversation about anything, it’s all in how you approach the exchange. It’s all about what you see when you see people.
Because when everyone is operating from pure intention and passionate attention, the rest of the exchange takes care of itself.

Selling is the side effect of giving.
Through reckless generosity and a promiscuous heart, you create so much value in the marketplace, that people have no choice but to pay you what you’re worth.
In short, you give yourself away.
This concept began as an anonymously written article in Forbes magazine nearly a hundred years ago. And due to its popularity and volume of reprint requests, the piece was later expanded into a book. And it became an inspiration to millions.
Especially me. Especially in the world of business.
Truth is, sales was never my thing. I’m not aggressive, I’m not competitive, I’m not motivated by money and I’m not a closer. I’m more of a touchy feely, sensitive artist type who loves creating things and talking to strangers.
But what I lack in selling skills I make up in generosity.
Here’s my philosophy:
Giving yourself away is about being generous with your tangible assets like time, talent, treasure, touch and ties. Are you building a monopoly by becoming a center of connection for your customers?
Giving yourself away is about generous with your intangible assets like thoughtfulness, understanding, appreciation, attention, tolerance, courage and faith. Have you created a system for filling your customers’ emotional tanks?
Giving yourself away is about practicing generosity as loving impulses, not calculated actions. When was the last time you talk yourself out of thoughtfulness?
Giving yourself away is about increasing the acceptability of your gift by the multipliers of friendliness, immediacy and enthusiasm. Are you giving too long after the moment is gone?
The good news is, the reservoir of giving is in the heart, not the wallet.
And it never runs dry.
Are you keeping your giving away machinery in good working order?

You can’t teach thoughtfulness.
What you can do is create a system that makes thoughtfulness easier, reminds people to keep practicing it and rewards them for doing so consistently.
Kahnoodle is an app that gives you points every time you do something thoughtful for your lover, like bringing home flowers, writing a sweet note or doing the dishes. You can even cash your points in for discounts at popular stores. And if you haven’t done anything in a while, the app sends a push notification to nudge you in a thoughtful direction.
The reviews were through the roof.
Women said it helped them feel like they were dating again. Men said it rekindled their relationship’s romantic flame. Even marriage counselors said they prescribed it to their clients who were having problems communicating.
Kahnoodle dubbed this process, “filling people’s love tanks.”
Isn’t that the perfect definition of thoughtfulness?
It’s just sweet enough to be memorable, just visual enough to be useful, and just simple enough to be effective.
Filling people’s love tanks. Awesome.
So I couldn’t help but wonder, why stop at couples? Why limit thoughtfulness to just our romantic partners? Shouldn’t we extend that same practice of care and generosity and delight to people we aren’t sleeping with?
After all, relationships work when we work at them. And whether it’s business or personal, it’s less about labor and time and more about intention and attention.
As I go about my day, one of the questions I try to ask myself is:
“Who do I love that needs to see this?”
Maybe it’s an article I find, maybe it’s a product I buy, maybe it’s a picture I take, maybe it’s a person I meet, or maybe it’s a book I finish. But whatever it is that I experience, I always try to observe it with a filter of thoughtfulness. 
And then I share it with them. 
That way, the people that I love, know that my thoughts are full of them.
Because thoughtfulness isn’t a big thing, it’s a thousand little things.
And if we need an app to nudge us along in the right direction, so be it.
Whatever it takes to fill people’s love tanks.