Stop being thorough
For the most part, we trust pollination to the pollinators. (Image by Tanja Schulte)
The thing I appreciate most about being “the boss” is that I don’t have to spend a ton of time worrying about what “the boss” wants.
Sure, I try to do good work for clients. But I get to decide what that “good work” looks like and feels like. If the client and I have a mismatch, that’s not the right client for me.
I feel bad when I see people on my team (or a team I’m coaching) digging into details that don’t matter. I want to tell them to stop being thorough. The broad strokes of the painting will suffice.
Granted, I’m coming from a high degree of privilege when I say that. I have the luxury of knowing — in fact, deciding — which details matter and which ones don’t.
However, people do run their own businesses (and even households) as though they are trying to please a nonexistent, domineering boss who might show up to assess random aspects of their work at any time.
And they can take a huge weight off of their shoulders if they realize that they are the one who gets to choose what to focus on and what to let go of.
For me, I try to pay attention to the aspects of my work that yield the results I’m looking for with the least effort. Here are a few corners I am willing to cut:
I don’t use folders or tags in my email. If I need to find something again, I will rely on the search function. If I can’t search for it because I no longer remember that it existed, then I won’t miss it.
For things like flights, hotels, gifts, and other one-time purchases, I pick the first item I find that matches my criteria. I do not look for something better. I stop searching.
I keep my communication light and direct when I’m talking to a close associate. If we’re going to message each other twelve times today, we don’t need to be polite and effusive every single time. A thumbs-up will do.
I only think ahead as far as my own decisions, not someone else’s. If I send in a proposal, I wait until the proposal is accepted and the contract signed before I begin planning next steps. If I’m in a conversation, I don’t imagine all of their possible replies and how I would respond to each one. I just wait until it’s my turn.
I trust my systems and my team instead of triple-checking and micromanaging.
There are so many places where we can work harder just to show that we’re someone who is willing to work harder. When I have to collaborate with someone who does that, it creates more work for me, too. If I asked someone to research the five best options and I’m presented with ten, I’m not going to be impressed. I’m going to be annoyed. They did extra, and now I have to do extra.
I’m not averse to working. I’m averse to work that is primarily meant to quell someone’s anxiety, even my own. I prefer, as Tim Ferriss suggests, to be willing to let “little bad things happen” to get the big stuff done. I refuse to be driven by anxiety — I want to be driven by results.
It’s a weird feeling to let go of thoroughness when you’re used to it. To trust that the 34 names you imported into the new system are the same 34 names you had in the old system without checking every one.
To leave things out of your suitcase that you might need in order to be unencumbered on your trip.
To resist the temptation to remind someone of something that they said they would do.
To give up control and allow someone to help you.
For me, it’s been the key to a satisfying life in which I have the time and energy to do the things that I want, thanks in large part to the support of great people who, I hope, have the time and energy to do the things that they want, too. We all deserve that.
