Ideas – Grandpa Bob Encouraging Leadership

When an Idea Stops Being Yours Alone

There’s a quiet moment in meaningful work when your idea begins to live in someone else. You see it in the way they talk about it. You hear it in their enthusiasm. You notice how they add their experience and their language to it until the idea carries their imprint as much as yours.

It can feel strange the first time it happens. You know the origin, but they suddenly feel the spark of the idea for themselves. That’s the moment you know your idea has begun to grow.

Real success often arrives like this, but we don’t always notice it. People begin to adopt your idea, reshape it, and eventually believe in it with a conviction that can be surprising. They explain it to others in their own voice. They defend it. They improve it. If the idea spreads far enough, some will forget where it began. Your name may fade from the origin story. That loss of attribution can sting if you hold the idea too tightly. It should feel like success instead.

Leaders have a responsibility here. Ideas rarely spread through logic alone. They spread through emotional ownership that grows when people discover a piece of themselves in the idea. When that happens, they carry the idea farther than you ever could by insisting on authorship.

A leader’s task is to create the conditions for this transfer. You offer the early shape of the idea, then invite others to step inside and help build the next version. You ask for their insight, their experience, and their concerns. You let their fingerprints gather on the surface until the idea becomes a shared creation. People support what they help to shape.

As others begin to adopt your idea, they’ll need to feel safety in their new enthusiasm. They need to know they’re not the only ones who believe in this direction. A wise leader pays attention to this. They take the people who have embraced their idea and introduce them to others who have done the same. They form new connections, helping to create a small community where confidence strengthens and courage grows. When people see others adopting the same idea, they feel validated, understood, and ready to act.

This is how ideas gain momentum inside organizations. One person sees the promise. Another begins to shape it. A third begins to feel inspired. Before long, it becomes a shared narrative. It starts with your imagination, but it continues through their belief and conviction.

Once people begin to adopt your idea, you must release it. You may or may not receive credit for it. Either outcome is acceptable.

The goal was never to build a monument to your creativity. The goal was to move the organization forward. When others bring your idea into new conversations without you, your contribution has done its job.

Your attention can return to the horizon. There’s always another idea waiting for you, another possibility that needs your curiosity, another problem that needs new framing.

Good leaders plant seeds. Great leaders celebrate when those seeds take root across the organization.

Inspired by Dr. Michael Levin’s post, h/t – Tim Ferriss

Photo by Alex Beauchamp on Unsplash – a new idea taking root and growing beyond its beginning.

How Limits Bring Art to Life

Inspired by G. K. Chesterton

I’ve come to believe what Chesterton once said. Art is limitation, and the essence of every picture is the frame. It took me time to see that truth.

Many of us grow up thinking freedom creates great work. Unlimited time. Unlimited canvas. Unlimited choice.

But if you’ve ever stared too long at a blank page, you know what real freedom can feel like. Paralyzing.

Nothing takes shape until the edges appear. A story waits forever if the writer can’t decide where it begins. Music is noisy until the composer chooses a key. The frame gives the work its purpose.

The same is true in leadership and life. A budget helps us decide what we value. A deadline turns a dream into something real. A small team learns to trade excess for imagination. Limited resources push us to invent new ways to adapt. The frame brings focus.

Still, the frame itself matters. A picture can feel cramped when the frame becomes too tight. A project can drift when the wrong thing fills the center. When the boundaries are off, the whole image loses clarity. That’s why wise leaders spend time defining the edges before the work begins.

Whenever I work on a puzzle, I start by finding all the edge pieces. Once the border comes together, I can see how everything else might fit. The same principle applies to creative work and leadership. The edges give us context. They help us imagine where the middle pieces belong and how the picture will come to life.

Frames should change as we grow. The world shifts. We learn more about what we’re building. Every so often, we step back and see whether the picture still fits. Sometimes the frame needs widening. Sometimes the colors need more light. Adjusting the frame keeps the beauty true.

Constraints give possibility its shape. They reveal what truly matters. Choosing the right limitations helps us see what is essential.

When you feel boxed in or limited, pause before you push against the edges. The frame around your work may be the very thing helping the picture appear. And when the picture becomes clear, refresh the frame so the beauty within it continues to grow.

Thanks to James Clear for sharing this G. K. Chesterton quote: “Art is limitation; the essence of every picture is the frame.”

Photo by pine watt on Unsplash

Choosing Curiosity Over Fear

When we look toward the future, two voices compete for our attention. Fear tells us to run away. Curiosity invites us to step forward.

Fear whispers, “It’s too much. I can’t keep up. Better to stop trying.” Curiosity responds, “I don’t understand…yet. Let’s see what happens.”

Fear closes.

Curiosity opens.

Fear imagines disaster.

Curiosity imagines possibilities.

Fear isolates.

Curiosity connects.

The world is changing quickly. The pace can feel overwhelming. Many will react with fear. A curious spirit asks questions. It wonders what could be.

Curiosity doesn’t remove uncertainty but transforms how we deal with it. When we lead with curiosity, we move from paralysis to participation. We see the unknown as a chance to grow.

“Never let the future disturb you. You will meet it with the same weapons of reason which today arm you against the present.” – Marcus Aurelius

We already have the tools we need. Curiosity and our ability to learn. What we need is the courage to use them.

Photo by ALEXANDRE DINAUT on Unsplash

Mesmerism and the Rhythm of Showing Up

“When I’m in writing mode for a novel, I get up at four a.m. and work for five to six hours. In the afternoon, I run for ten kilometers or swim for fifteen hundred meters (or do both), then I read a bit and listen to some music. I go to bed at nine p.m. I keep to this routine every day without variation. The repetition itself becomes the important thing; it’s a form of mesmerism. I mesmerize myself to reach a deeper state of mind.” — Haruki Murakami

Haruki Murakami has written some of the most widely read novels and screenplays — Norwegian Wood, Kafka on the Shore, 1Q84, and others. His stories are wide and varied. But his process? Based on this quote, it’s as simple as it gets (on first glance).

He wakes early. He works. He exercises. He reads. He rests. Then he does it all again. Every day. Without variation.

What makes that interesting isn’t just the discipline. It’s what that discipline creates. He calls it mesmerism.

He’s not trying to force creativity. He’s building a space, mentally and physically, where creativity knows it’s welcome. And he shows up to that space every day, without fail.

This kind of repetition, over time, can shift your state of mind. It can take you to a quieter, more focused place. It can help you bypass distraction and access something deeper.

He doesn’t wait for inspiration to strike. He prepares for it. He builds a rhythm and shows up to it daily. Over time, his mind knows—it’s time to create. And that, he says, is when the real writing happens.

It’s easy to think of habits as something utilitarian. A way to squeeze productivity out of our day. But what if repetition isn’t just a tool for efficiency? What if it’s a path into something more meaningful?

What if the act of doing the same thing, at the same time, in the same way, becomes a form of permission to go deeper?

Murakami’s routine isn’t about optimization. It’s about entry. It’s a way of reaching the part of himself that doesn’t respond well to noise, pressure, or force. And the only way in is repetition.

This idea of mesmerism applies to more than writing novels or screenplays.

Maybe your “deep work” is building a business, raising a family, managing a new venture, or simply trying to stay anchored when life is anything but steady.

The specific rhythm doesn’t matter. What matters is that it’s yours. That it becomes familiar enough, trusted enough, to lower your resistance and invite your mind to settle.

A short walk each morning before the day begins.

A time and place for reading, thinking, or praying without interruption.

A quiet moment after dinner, before sleep.

These aren’t productivity hacks. They’re entry points. Invitations to go below the surface of reaction and noise. To meet yourself in a more focused, honest way.

Reflecting on this quote, I see it as less about writing and more about living on purpose.

There’s no perfect rhythm. No universal method. But there is something powerful in choosing to show up each day, in the same way, with the same posture of readiness…even if it feels small.

Because over time, that rhythm changes us. It makes us less reliant on inspiration and more connected to our purpose.

Less reactive, more rooted. Less scattered, steadier.

Show up.
Repeat.
Let the repetition carry you deeper.

That’s where the real work—and the real exploration—can begin.

h/t – once again, Tim Ferris’s 5 Bullet Friday newsletter. He recently highlighted this Murakami quote. When I first read it, it didn’t make much of an impression. Who uses mesmerism in a sentence? Then I decided to re-read it, even though it’s a long one.

On my second reading, the quote sunk in and got me thinking about how his process of mesmerizing through repetition can be applied to anything we’re trying to accomplish (it even showed me how to use the word mesmerizing in a sentence). It takes us past brute discipline and into a rhythm-based approach that prepares our mind to do the work we want it to do; in the space that repetition provides.

Photo by Jack Sharp on Unsplash

Creating Like Children

When you watch a five-year-old, a ten-year-old, even a twelve-year-old create, you see what unfettered creative freedom really looks like. Whether it’s a drawing, a Lego tower, or a clay sculpture, they throw themselves into the process with joyous abandon. In their mind, they can see clearly what they’re making. They know why they’re making it. And there’s almost always a story behind it.

They aren’t self-conscious. They aren’t trying to impress anyone. Sure, they like to show their creations to parents, grandparents, and teachers. But their motivation isn’t just about approval. It’s about expression.

Most children are free from the baggage of expectation. They don’t wonder if what they’re making is good enough. And when they finish, they move right on to the next thing. Their self-worth isn’t tied to the outcome. The value of the work comes from their own perspective, not from what others think.

But around age thirteen (sometimes earlier) things change.

After years of chasing approval, learning the “right” way to do things, being graded and corrected by well-meaning adults, something fundamental happens. Their freedom to create without judgment slowly gets buried. Doubt takes root. Worry about what others might think starts to shape their process. Fear of looking foolish holds them back.

And as the years pass, it only gets worse.

Tell someone you’re going to take up oil painting, stained glass, sculpture, or any new creative pursuit as an adult, and they’ll likely have two reactions: a polite smile of encouragement, and quiet skepticism that anything worthwhile will ever come of it.

Starting something creative as an adult feels strange. It’s outside the bounds of what “normal” people do. It’s far easier to stay in line, avoid looking foolish, and sidestep the discomfort of being a beginner again.

But we are all beginners at birth. Even the rare prodigies had to take their first step (the one that happens long before we see the gifted 5-year-old who can play a piano concerto). For the rest of us, every new skill—whether it’s creative, practical, or professional—requires courage, repetition, failure, and patience.

I’ve learned that when I let go of expectations (not easy) and stop worrying about looking foolish (also not easy), the magic happens. With this new frame of reference, trying something new, something creative, or something unfamiliar, brings a new energy having nothing to do with the outcomes.

It doesn’t seek approval or chase productivity. It simply opens the door to wonder—something we often unlearn as we grow older.

I’m lucky. I get to spend time with my grandchildren, who remind me what fearless creativity looks like. They show me that learning and creating, and the fun we have along the way, are all that matters.

Maybe we all need a little more of that.

To create like children again.

Photo by pine watt on Unsplash

Planting Your Ideas…and Cultivating Them in an Environment of Trust and Collaboration

Imagine presenting your boss with a blank canvas, expecting them to sketch out the details of your plan—not impressive.

Instead, consider offering a detailed outline of your proposed actions, complete with timelines and expected outcomes. This approach allows your boss to review your thoroughness and provide feedback, while still enabling you to take the lead on the initiative.

As you consistently demonstrate the quality and reliability of your ideas, your boss may rely less on reviewing your plans in detail, knowing they align with your track record of success. This trust opens the door for you to play a more significant role in decision-making and strategy development.

Bosses appreciate having the opportunity to refine and improve upon existing ideas rather than starting from scratch. They usually don’t have the time or are unwilling to take the time to create from scratch. That’s your job.

By presenting well-researched proposals supported by data and evidence, you provide a solid foundation for collaboration. Offering multiple options allows your boss to feel involved in the decision-making process while subtly guiding them toward your preferred solution.

Timing matters. Choose moments when your boss is receptive and avoid times of stress or distraction. By seeking feedback and actively listening to your boss’s input, you demonstrate a willingness to collaborate, adapt, and learn.

Your goal is always to build a relationship of trust and collaboration. When this happens, your ideas have an opportunity to thrive and contribute to your organization’s innovation and growth.

You can walk around with your blank canvas, wondering why your ideas never get attention. Or, you can raise your hand, and share your ideas in a way that multiplies your boss’s (and your) effectiveness. I choose the second option every time.

p/c – Jonny Caspari, Unsplash.com

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Making the Clay: A parable about how projects come to life.

p/c WAI – John Cargile

In the dim glow of his studio, the sculptor stood before a vast expanse of pristine clay, lost in thought. His mind danced with visions of what he would create—a masterpiece that would captivate hearts and minds, a testament to his skill and vision. Yet, before his hands could shape the clay, there were crucial steps to take, like preparing the raw material before the artistry could begin.

As he contemplated the sculpture taking form in his mind’s eye, he pondered the perspectives he would bring to his creation. Each angle, each curve held significance, and he knew that his vision would resonate differently with each observer. He envisioned the awe in their eyes, the whispers of admiration as they saw his work.

But this sculpture would be unlike any he had attempted before—it would be monumental, stretching skyward in grandeur. The clay alone would not suffice; he would need the finest materials that could withstand the test of time. Yet, the cost of these materials weighed heavily on his mind. It was a venture that would require more than just his own resources.

Thus, he embarked on a journey to seek investors—patrons who believed in his vision and were willing to invest in its realization. With their support, he would procure the materials necessary to bring his creation to life. But it was not just financial backing he sought; he needed a team of skilled artisans who would join him on this sculpting journey.

Finding the right team was no small feat. Each member would bring their own expertise and perspective, enriching the project with their unique talents. Yet, it was not just a matter of talent—they would need to share his passion and commitment, willing to sacrifice their own pursuits to see the vision through.

And so, he set out to assemble his team, each member drawn by the promise of being part of something extraordinary. Yet, he knew that their dedication could not go unrewarded. He would provide for them, ensuring they had the means to sustain themselves as they poured their hearts and souls into the project.

With each detail meticulously planned, he secured a space large enough to accommodate the monumental sculpture, a blank canvas upon which his vision would take shape. And in his heart, he held onto the hope that there would be a patron waiting in the wings, eager to claim his creation as their own. A customer.

As he surveyed the clay before him, he saw not just a mound of earth, but the embodiment of possibility—the first step in a journey that would culminate in something truly extraordinary.

With determination burning bright in his eyes, the sculptor began to mold the clay, each touch infused with passion and purpose. He knew that before the sculpture could stand tall, it must first be brought to life in the fertile soil of his imagination.

Sound familiar?

If you launch a new idea, a new project, a new company, or a new rocket…you’re the sculptor. You alone see your vision. To see this new vision come to life, you will need to gather others, inspire them, challenge them, and ultimately organize your new team toward the goal of making your vision a reality.

It won’t be easy. Great things never are. You’ll risk failure at every turn. You’ll have to overcome challenges you never knew existed.

But you’ll never achieve meaningful success in your project (whatever it is) without taking the risk, making the clay, gathering your team, and ultimately bringing your vision to life.

I have one favor to ask: If you like this content and think someone else will like it as well, please forward this post to them.

Time For a Reboot?

Reboots aren’t only applicable to technology problems…

I learned a truism about computers back in the late-80’s:

More than 50% of the time, a computer problem can be overcome by merely rebooting the machine

Sometimes this means pressing a specific keystroke combination. Other times it means simply unplugging the machine from the wall, and then plugging it in again.

Fast-forward nearly forty years, and the old “reboot method” is still effective at least 50% of the time.

Reboots aren’t only applicable to technology problems.

Unplugging from a problem or challenge, even for a short period of time, can shed light on a new set of perspectives. And, guess what…about 50% of the time, one of those new perspectives will hold the key to overcoming your “unsolvable” problem.

Rebooting doesn’t only mean disconnecting. It can also mean purposely switching up your approach, assigning new team members, changing up the words you use to describe the problem, or putting the issue into a “timeout,” so you can work on something else for a while.

Rebooting may mean taking that vacation you’ve been promising yourself and your family. You tell yourself there’s no time for a vacation. No time to disconnect.

Wrongo!

Denying yourself the opportunity to temporarily disconnect is denying yourself access to your most creative idea flow. The flow that comes from freeing your mind, even briefly, from your day-to-day tasks.

There’s a ton of power in the reboot, the restart, and the disconnect.

The answers to your most unsolvable problems lie on the other side of that reboot you’ve been avoiding (at least 50% of the time, of course).

Photo by Nadine Shaabana on Unsplash