What matters?

A lighthouse tells you where not to go just as much as where to go. (Image by Benjamin Thomas)

In the food court of Concourse A at Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport, there is a guy who is really good at his job.

Not only does he keep the napkins stocked and the seating area tidy on the busiest of days, he will even approach travelers to clear their trash when they are finished with their meals instead of waiting for them to take care of it themselves. Pleasant but not overly friendly, he conducts himself with brisk efficiency. No energy is wasted or misdirected.

I wish more people were like this guy, including me. He's focused on what matters.

That's not to say that what matters is always cleanliness and efficiency. But it absolutely matters at the airport food court during a pandemic. I'm not sure I am always so clear on what matters in my own pursuits. I waste an awful lot of energy paying attention to things that make me feel better or more virtuous even when I know they don't make a difference to anyone else and might even interfere with my ability to do the things that matter most. These kinds of habits are tough to break.

I've been making an effort to achieve clarity about my priorities, along with helping others to do the same.This can be tricky. We've been reminded so many times of the importance of having a Big Hairy Audacious Goal that the signal can get lost in the noise. We end up having the goal for the sake of the goal instead of for some higher purpose.

When we're in danger of not meeting that BHAG (perhaps because we're trying to, I don’t know, adopt a corporate growth philosophy as a single individual), we have to strip away all of the bigness, hairiness, and audaciousness to get back to what is essential. Otherwise, we risk giving up or missing out on something that's actually very doable.

For example, I once had a client tell me that he needed to make a million dollars in income per year. He also wanted to spend more time with his family because he was totally overwhelmed with work.

Eventually, I learned that a million dollars was about three times this guy's annual income, which was already well above his expenses. He didn't actually need to make a million dollars per year. With some thoughtful changes, he could meet the goal of spending more time with his family, but the million-dollar goal would be in direct opposition to that. It was such an enormous goal that it would only be a big distraction — presumably, from what was most important. ("And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon...")

Sometimes, when I have a day free of meetings, I get overly ambitious about what I think I can accomplish. I write down a long list of tasks, hoping to clear the backlog and get ahead.

By the early afternoon, it becomes clear that I'm not going to get to everything. At that point, I need to thoughtfully reassess. If I don't — if I persist in thinking that I can do it all — I might actually give up completely because I'm overwhelmed and tired.

What I need to do then is be honest about what else needs to be done today. Often, out of four hours of "must dos," there's only one or two twenty-minute tasks that absolutely need to be done. They're probably the ones I'm most reluctant to do, but they seem a lot more doable when they're the last ones on the list. The extra stuff seems conscientious to include, but in reality, it is clutter that drags me away from accomplishing what I really need to.

There are so many details that we concern ourselves with that just don't matter in the scheme of things. So many commitments we've made to ourselves that nobody cares about. When we’ve set the bar arbitrarily or unrealistically, how can we know what is truly necessary?

If everything matters, then nothing can really matter. We have to prioritize — we can't do it all. We've got to think about the outcomes we truly need, then design a plan accordingly. When we're willing to give things up, we're more likely to get what we want.

The guy at the airport food court isn't going to let you linger. That's not what you want anyway. You've got a flight to catch. He's challenging you to keep moving because that’s what you’re there for. We might not always have that nudge, but it’s good to have it when it counts.