Andy Lykens

Innovating and operating through growth

Posts

Send another email

by

It’s important to you, this message you’ve crafted. The attention you want.

You’ve thought about just the right thing to say – it isn’t too long, or too short.

The timing has to be right, because the data shows that the best time to send an email is at 4am on Tuesday. Of course only suckers do that because everyone is sending their email at that time – so you’ll do it Wednesday.

Sending this email is work. It’s productivity. It’s marketing. It means you’ll be busier, and busier means you’re doing your job well.

The email is saying “there, I tried – I thought a lot about it too. I did it at the time I was supposed to, at just the right length. Just like everyone does.”

So you click send. And then you wait.

You wait because you don’t know the person on the other side or what they care about. But I’ll give you a hint: it probably isn’t getting more email from strangers.

Overlooked

by

It’s easy to feel unappreciated and overlooked. For all the talk about teamwork and collaboration, most people, most of the time, are not thinking about you (to test this ask yourself: “am I thinking about them?”). This isn’t their fault.

They’re thinking about all the tasks they have to do to move a project forward, to take care of things at home, to improve themselves. So unless what you’re doing greatly improves or severely limits the chance of one of their things, your thing will probably go unnoticed.

But it doesn’t have to.

You’re allowed to ask for help when you need it. You can propose a different solution. You can make it clear that your needs aren’t being met and then suggest a way to change that.

If you decide to do that, have a plan and be ready to sell it. Make sure your thing becomes aligned with their thing, and definitely be ready to raise your hand, discuss it, and compromise.

In the end, the only person responsible for you being overlooked is you. What are you going to do about it?

Luck and shortcuts

by

Between the origin and the destination, shortcuts are an oasis in the desert. They’re a sleight of hand. A prestige.

Luck is a tailwind. It’s a cloud when the sun is hottest. A mist when the climate is driest.

When you take shortcuts, you wind up needing to start over again and retracing steps. Shortcuts require you alter your course. They’re a distraction from the end goal.

When luck shows up, it enhances what you’re already doing. It’s encouragement to keep moving boldly ahead. It’s unexpected and welcome.

Neither luck nor shortcuts are dependable.

When you set out to do something, it’s not so crazy to believe you might get lucky, but watch out for shortcuts.