At some point in the last decade, I changed how I approach New Years resolutions: Instead of creating abritrary goals that I'd inevitably not keep, I started to build rules for myself around the things I value. These rules help me change for the better by prioritizing what's important to me, and by being rooted in who I am, I am much better at sticking with them.  I started adopting these rules years ago - and, based on whatever was going on in my life, some years brought more rules than others. With 2023 around the corner, here are my 23 rules for 2023: [2012] Listen with the same energy as when I talk [2013] Laugh Out Loud. (For real.)  [2014] Embrace failures with enthusiasm. [2015] Feed my wonder, exercise my curiosity. [2016] Strangers are future friends in disguise. [2016] Be better about giving praise. [2017] Magic is not just for kids. [2017] It's ok to say "I don't know" but finish it with "I can find out..." [2017] Creativity is a muscle th

Do you ever deal with self-doubt? I do. Even with things I'd done before - and even if it went well. In the "To thine own self be true" spectrum ranging from People-who-over-inflate-their-egos to People-who-self-doubt , you'll find me hanging with the anxious latter. Some talk about their Impostor Syndrome strategies and meanwhile I'm still wondering if I've properly understood it. The weird thing though, is I'm still pretty confident. I'll commit to things, knowing I know nothing about them, and I'll follow through. Looking at a different spectrum, Decision Making, I rarely suffer from Analysis Paralysis. Instead, I'm at a different end: Analysis Catalysis - the more I analyze, the more I want to do. (I just Googled "Analysis Catalysis" and this term shockingly does not exist so I'm going to credit myself for coining it. 😁 ) I may as well define it better. If it's not obvious, Analysis Catalysis is when analysis drives ac

I'd always been told grocers stock the freshest milk at the back of the refrigerator. Without a second thought, I will lean low, reach far, and extend my arm deep into the back of the fridge and take hold of whatever container of milk rests on that back row. Comparing the date with those in the front, I've never been disappointed. This truth is eternal. On occasion, as I reach deep into the seemingly endless void, my eyes will blur and strain to focus on the darkened shadows of the refrigerated stock room. Mysterious figures move with quiet determination. And on the rarest of these occasions, when my hand feels the vast nothingness that comes with having extended my reach beyond that last row, a shadow will near. A gloved hand will meet my splayed fingers with the handle of a jug of milk colder than the air in which it is surrounded. Pulling it back, I see an expiration date stretching beyond comprehension of what is commonly thought to be an acceptable expiration for milk. My