Steph Curry and Culture Add.

This week, I’ve been exploring a few courses on building great, durable teams.

Two concepts that spoke to me on DIBs (Diversity, Inclusion, Belonging).

One, the idea of why great teams need to be diverse. Imagine Steph Curry: all-star guard with incredible handles and the smoothest stroke. He could (and has) won championships based on his talent. But would you want 5 Steph Curry’s on your team? Likely not. You need a lockdown center, big forwards and another shifty point. The diversity of skills make the team.

Two, when you’re getting that championship team, they don’t have to always have a ‘culture fit’. Then you’ll look at the room and see pure reflections of yourself (more or less). Rather, look for culture add. Someone who doesn’t think or look like you but will invariably raise the bar.

So when hiring: think differently, hire differently. It’s a rising tide that will raise all ships!

Linear paths and washing machines

I heard a humbling story about grief this past weekend.

In a podcast, Emma Tait recounts the story of loss: losing her love, losing her brother to suicide, and losing herself all in a few months.

And she struck a chord: the idea that grief is never linear. It’s not a line graph that goes up and to the right. In fact, you’ll feel much like a washing machine. Tossed and turned and spun, there will be weeks of good days sandwiched with a terrible day.

Most of us, this process will feel rough. You’ll tell yourself: it’s not working. I’m not healing.

But Emma gave some comforting words: You don’t get to see the path, you only get to feel the path. And whatever you’re feeling is natural. Remember: You are doing everything. You just aren’t trusting you are doing everything.

So, take heart. You are on your way. Everything will be better in the end. If it’s not better? It’s not the end.

Dullest ink

I heard a really great phrase this week:

The dullest ink is better than the sharpest memory.

I sincerely believe in this. There’s so much to remember. to-dos, birthdays, reminders, moments. And our poor brain can only keep so much in there. And it’s prone to forget easily as well.

That’s why for almost a decade plus, I’ve sworn by my (digital) brain to help keep it all together. And the amount of peace it brings me knowing it’s all there.

So my Friday tip: write it down. You won’t forget!

Daydream and down time

There are always moments in the day where you have a breath. Maybe you’re waiting, or commuting, or resting.

That brief period - what do you do? I know what I do. That sensation you get to pick up your phone and look. There’s always something to catch up on, right?

That seems to have a grating effect on my life. Loss of thoughts. Loss of wonder.

In an effort to dream, I’m just trying to take that time back to myself. And it starts with looking out than looking down.

Five and favors.

When someone reaches out for help, that’s an act of strength. Never easy to admit: "Hey, I haven’t figured all this out. Can you be there?”

But I realize, our first instinct is usually to estimate. How much time will this take? What do I have going on? What work will be needed?

I realize now that so much can happen in ‘five’. Five minutes to do a quick connect, review, text of encouragement. But that ‘five’ can be a massive multiplier to a person in need.

Take 5. You never know how much it’ll mean to someone.

The first cup of coffee

We lost my beloved Ajji this weekend.

And after 60 years, my grandpa had his first cup of coffee by himself.

Decades of busy mornings, relaxed mornings, ecstatic mornings. But now, a quiet morning.

It fills me with so much emotion:. A shared life and love over a generation. And now, a somber new beginning.

Ajji: you brought so much light to my grandpa. And to me. I’m sorry the last few years were so hard. I will miss walking with you, giggling with you, praying with you, and being with you.

I hope your first cup is heavenly too.

Community and Crews

This weekend, I am headed for a reunion for a dance crew, Punjabbawockeez. It’s a group I joined a decade ago.

The crazy thing is: there are deep connections between members almost a generation apart. Authentic camaraderie and care that is hard to fake.

My brother and two of my close friends have built a wonderful culture of connection that has stood the test of time. Something I rarely see from groups this long. As I was thinking, what makes this so community so unique?

  • It’s the journey, not the destination: From the beginning, the founders believed in fun and friendship over results. That made every practice, event, competition more joy than work. And that brought people to show up because they wanted to, not because they had to.

  • Meet for real: Every year or so, a group of planners ensured we had an opportunity to meet IRL. We went to NOLA, LA to ATX. That made a huge difference, because connection is forged on the ground level. Not on FB, IG or chats, but in different places with fun spaces.

  • Bring your (whole) self: People are the undercurrent of a good community. And we took people who brought themselves to the fullest: the zany, the goofballs, the pranksters and everything in between. You never hid from yourself, and everyone embraced it.

There’s a quote I like to describe this: An overnight success is 10 years in the making.

And I am proud of what the team did to foster such a durable and joyful community.

Tell them.

We love so deeply for some people in our lives.

Do they know though? Have they heard it out loud?

Maybe it’s not your style. Maybe it’s fear of vulnerability. Maybe it’s a lot of things in your head making you hold back…just a little.

For me? It’s taken years to break open these words: “I love you & you matter so much to me.”

Tell them. You will feel better. And chances are they will feel even better too.

Keep your shoes on

I’ve been lucky to be able to stay in a few family and friend’s homes in the last few weeks.

And I’ve been struck how well some people can take care of their visitors. Little details like luggage racks, hot food, fresh towels, phone chargers, easy-breezy entertainment.

When you stay with people who look after you so well, comfort reigns supreme. You leave fuller and happier than when you arrive.

Want to sprawl out? Go ahead. Wear your sweats? Please do. Keep your shoes on? This is your house!

Why not?

A lovely family, but I’ll have to love. Why not?

A fulfilling career, but I’ll have to work. Why not?

A steadfast friend, but I’ll have to be open. Why not?

A durable body, but I’ll have to push. Why not?

So much to look forward to, and it’s within reach. Others have done it, why not me?

The holiday life

Many of us taking some well-deserved time off for the holidays — including myself.

But what makes this different than a normal vacation? Why do we look forward it to so much?

I was thinking this week: it’s the basics. The things we’ve craved for a millennia: belonging, warmth, reflection - coupled with a roof, food, and loved ones.

A simple formula that recharges us for the full year (decade?) ahead. Grateful to have this little slice of life.

Lead from the back

One of our most inspiring humans to walk this earth: Nelson Mandela, said something amazing:

Lead from the back — and let others believe they are front.

Isn’t that so true? The most gifted leaders I have seen instill so much confidence and fortitude in their team without making a show. They counsel, listen, coach, encourage — and then get out of the way.

No hooting, hollering, or beating their chest from the top. Rather, they are side-by-side next to you, sleeves rolled up, caring to say: “Let’s figure this out together.”

Because it was never about them anyways. It’s about you.

Love with no place to go.

This week, I saw a sobering but illuminating quote:

Grief, I’ve learned, is really just love. It’s all the love you want to give, but cannot. All that unspent love gathers up in the corners of your eyes, the lump in your throat, and in that hollow part of your chest. Grief is just love with no place to go.

How true. So much of what’s inside of us—especially those sad feelings—comes from pent-up affection that is now collected inside our soul. Typically, it washes over people we care about.

But when we lose somebody, it has to reside us and starts to pile up. Truthfully, it’s a manifestation of love that needs an outlet.

Writing and talking has helped me so far, but I am exploring ways to help get that ‘love’ out.

Young again

Sitting here with my elders, I consider myself so grateful to spend hours with them. Reflecting and reminiscing, we have talked about life’s ups and downs and sideways moments.

It’s been wonderful but I have been struck with a thought: if we could spend time when they were at their prime. Bursting full of life and energy: what would their outlook be? What kind of person would be?

I dream of a time I could look into their eyes and they looked back with a fullness, a potential.

Today on thanksgiving, I am thankful for them. But smile at the person they were so many years ago.

Informal India

I am in India this week. It's been a lovely trip being back with my family.

An observation: I am amazed how much gets done through intimate, process-less channels.

There is a milk person who comes to your door who knows your preferences.

Good off-market flats are found through word of mouth.

Fruit vendors don't sell you a bad orange because they know it's sour, and if you're short money: they trust you'll come back tomorrow to pay your tab.

In a country of a billion people, amazed at how intricate and personal it always is.

Message in the mess.

Life: It’s messy, right? Things rarely go as planned. Perfectly good situations (in your mind, at least) turn out to be imperfectly bad.

‘Bad’ is an association though. An attitude you gave a situation as ‘fact’, when it could have easily been just your own ‘opinion’.

But since everything happens for a reason, something bigger is at play, right? What’s it telling you?

There is a story there, and we can find it.

Time and gifts

As I think about what I have to give, the answer I come to a lot is my time.

We all have the same amount, but can I leverage it better? Can I open it more to those who need it?

Likely, yes. This week, it definitely made me realize it’s one of the best gifts we can offer.

“You matter. And I’m here to spend it with you.”

A city's best

Many of live in cities. And some of the shine has worn off a little: it feels packed, expensive, maybe even dirty.

But at their best? They are social, convenient and clean. But the only way forward for change that I feel I can make a dent is by voting. Every year, no excuse.

Reminding myself that I have a lot to be grateful for my city. And I need to support it with the mechanisms I have to keep it at it’s best.

Feeling like fun

Our days are filled to the brim. For whatever fills it, have you checked that (some of) it is fun?

I hope so. Because fun can’t be faked. You know in your heart when you’re excited to do something, and dread it when it’s not.

I’ve been trying to add a little fun on things I suck at. Like lighting a candle and playing music when I’m in the kitchen, or eating a chocolate after a workout.

Reminder to myself to keep thinking of ways to spark a little ‘cheer’ whatever I do.