A funny thing happens when I talk to people: I hear amazing stories. I’m not sure where this ability comes from, but I can trace it back to a young age when I would listen to my parents and sisters talk about what they were going through. This ability to listen is excellent, but I’ve also learned to listen within for the question I really want to ask. And that’s when the stories start pouring out. In this episode of Getting Work To Work, I’ll share a few ways to listen and five questions I love to ask that draw out stories from anyone. By the end of this episode, you will have the tools necessary to hear unbelievable stories of love, loss, success, and failure. You’ll never know how it will impact your creative future.

It’s been an interesting time of decline and I’m honestly enjoying it. I’m not talking about society, culture, or my business, but my artistic ambitions and connection with others. It all started when I read this phrase in a book by Eric Barker: “the right amount of weirdness.” I’m a weird person, I’ll admit it, but I’ve learned to hide it, so I could be accepted by as many people as possible. I’ve even shoved my weirdness aside when it demanded to be shared with others. What did I get for my conformity? Burnout and boredom with my creative pursuits. Fortunately, the way forward is clear to me: embrace the void so in obscurity my weirdness can thrive once again.

The first time I heard it, I took great offense. But I started to hear it more and more. From an older generation who remembers life as it once was and no longer is, of a singular expert worker who knew the answer to every question and the solution to any problem—even if no one said it aloud. “I guess this is what we get nowadays” is not an ideal way to start any engagement, but the perfect statement to reflect upon in today’s episode of Getting Work To Work. Yes, technology and convenience have changed the world of work, but they have also changed our expectations as customers. How are we to respond as workers?

Living a creative life isn’t always glamorous and Instagrammable. Sure, there are perks: a level of autonomy and creative freedom that doesn’t exist in other organizations. But what do you do when you are chasing a vision that you wholeheartedly believe in and have moments where you can no longer see your way forward (or even backward)? When the path is missing, do you keep flailing around looking for salvation or stop and wait for a change in perspective? So many questions as I stop and recognize that my own path has disappeared for the moment. I know where I want to go, but I think I need to continue groping around in the dark for a bit longer.

Why do you buy new gear? Is it to achieve your creative vision? To compete against other creatives in the marketplace? To be cool? To realize unknown ideas? There are a million reasons to buy new gear and many valid counterpoints for using what you have. Regardless of where you sit on the continuum between new equipment and using what you’ve got, injecting the occasional purchase of something new into your rig can be inspiring and spark new ideas. But how do you do that if you are short on cash or don’t know what would be the best use of your funds? I’m going to share a few ideas on today’s episode of Getting Work To Work.

Are you a team player or a lone wolf? For most of my career, I have worn the badge of the lone wolf. I wanted to show my strength and capability without needing anyone else. I would take offense when wise elders told me I needed to build a team around me: “I’ll show you!” Because of this mentality, I would take jobs I knew I could do alone. And even in moments working for larger companies, I was still a loner. I didn’t fully engage in the team around me, and eventually, I returned to what worked in the past. But what if the work that I needed to do was let go of old stories and accept what my future self is becoming?

How often do you fear what other people will think and say to you and about you? For as long as I can remember, I’ve always been afraid of the anonymous collective of imaginary haters waiting to pounce on me the second I put something out into the world. Because of that, I don’t like to ask others for feedback, and I often keep my voice silent on issues and topics important to me. Fortunately, I’m slowly learning how to respond to the actual voices of others — in front and around me. The more I do that, the stronger my connection to my creative soul, and my fear of “the others” loosens its grip on me.

How often do you get ads for proven systems that help you create more content faster? For me, it seems almost daily. A year ago, I would have loved a plan to help me do even more than I was attempting to do. But today, not so much. I want to do less, at a slower rate, so I can do the work that truly matters. In today’s episode of Getting Work To Work, I’m going to explore seven bundles of questions that will help you examine a downshift from fast to slow. It’s not going to be easy, but much like driving the speed limit, you usually get to the same place at the same time as those weaving in and out of traffic.

As I’ve been sharing recently on Getting Work To Work, I’ve been putting myself in situations that reveal how much I don’t know. I have to learn as fast and as safely as possible. Most importantly, I have to recover from mistakes quickly. Some days it just feels like my best isn’t good enough. Sometimes people get upset, which in turn makes me feel awful. And that perhaps presents the most valuable skill anyone can learn: how to bounce back quickly after a setback, conflict, or mistake. If you are a chronic people-pleaser like myself and want to find a way to be okay with giving your best, even when it isn’t enough, this episode is for you.

How do you learn new things? Are you like me and read books and other sources of information until you feel confident enough to try? Perhaps you’re like others and love watching videos or listening to podcasts to get the same hit of information acquisition, but in a quicker way. As life-long learners, it seems like there is a never-ending source of learning opportunities until one day you wake up and ask yourself a powerful question: how do you learn new things? I grapple with this question and more in today’s episode of Getting Work To Work.

As I look back over the past twenty-plus years of working, I can see a clear pattern of behavior that I’m not proud of: an attitude of irreplaceability. I said yes to every task and increased my level of responsibility, not as a way of helping out and making an impact, but to prove that I belonged. To show that my work was great, even if it wasn’t that good. And to hold others for psychological ransom about how hard it would be to replace me. What a horrible attitude! Fortunately, as I get older, I not only learn how replaceable I am but how the attitude of impact can actually get me what I always wanted.

I was feeling it, massive burnout. Creativity seemed to take every ounce of my energy. My curiosity was absent. I was finishing significant projects, but other things were falling through the cracks. Bills were piling up, and I just couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t wrap my mind around the work I needed to do to move forward. I was tired of delaying the big decisions I needed to make to begin the healing process. I’ve been in this place before, and I didn’t want to make the same mistakes I did in the past. I wasn’t looking for salvation this time, just change. I didn’t want to close my business; I just needed some relief. So I did something completely different. And found a new road to creative recovery.

I love routines. I used to get up early, read for several hours, write and gather my thoughts for years. Then two weeks ago, my established and well-worn routine crumbled to pieces as my wife and I welcomed a new member into our family: Cosmo, The Wonder Pug. He doesn’t care about my need to read and write. He wants to eat, poop, play, and sleep. Quickly we learned that puppies need structure. As we planned his days, I realized just how much my routine required a reset. It had become a disgusting pile of day-old poutine leftovers.

Last week, several friends got together to talk about success and career development. I was invited to participate but couldn’t attend due to an appointment, but I’ve been thinking about the question, “What is success to me?” since then. I didn’t feel I had much to offer at the moment. Perhaps it’s because I don’t have traditional notions of success anymore. Maybe it’s just that I don’t feel successful or even deserve success. But I think it’s more that I have outdated definitions of success. In today’s monologue episode of Getting Work To Work, I’m going to share a few thoughts, stories, and ideas about what success is to me today versus 25 years ago when I was starting my career.