Written in 2014.
I previously wrote about five things successful people do. Writing it, I realised there are just as many things they don’t do — or rather, things they refuse to let stop them.
Five things successful people don’t do
- They don’t let negative thoughts take over. Not unrealistic optimism — but they generally focus forward rather than backward, and they don’t speak badly to themselves. If you see yourself as stupid or incapable, you project that, and people respond to the projection rather than the reality. I’m overweight, and I’m well aware of it. I’m also aware that it’s frequently not the first thing people take from meeting me, because it isn’t the first thing I lead with. I’m working on it. I don’t beat myself up about it. It is what it is, it’s changing, and I don’t let it run my life.
- They don’t let excuses accumulate. How often have you heard someone say they’ll do the thing once they’ve lost weight? Once the traffic reaches a number? Once the website is finished? We are frequently our own obstacle here. Between the negative self-talk and the waiting, it’s remarkable anyone gets anything done. Set the goal and start.
- They don’t let analysis paralysis take hold. There is always a better way to do something. But spend too long working out which way, and the deliberation costs more than the wrong choice would have. A good-enough answer is frequently fine. It won’t be perfect. It will be serviceable, and it lets you move.
- They don’t burn bridges. The world is an extraordinarily small place. Annoy people and it finds its way back to you. Be careful about undermining people or setting them up to fail, too — it isn’t worth the reputation it earns you.
- They don’t lie. Mean what you say and say what you mean. You may get away with it for a while, but you will be found out, and a reputation is nearly impossible to rebuild once it’s gone. It’s far easier to start honest and stay that way.
What the five have in common
Written out, they look like five unrelated pieces of advice. They aren’t.
Four of the five are about not letting something that hasn’t happened yet govern what you do now.
Negative self-talk is a prediction. Excuses are conditions placed on a future that keeps moving. Analysis paralysis is the search for a certainty that won’t arrive. All three are ways of waiting for a state of readiness that doesn’t exist.
The last two — not burning bridges, not lying — are the opposite. They’re about the future too, but they’re about the fact that it will arrive, and you’ll still be there when it does.
The hardest one, honestly
Number two is the one that costs people most, and it’s the one I’d expand now.
“I’ll do it when…” is an extremely comfortable sentence, because it isn’t refusal. It’s a plan. It sounds responsible. And the condition is almost always something that cannot be finished:
- When the website is done. Websites are never done.
- When I’ve lost the weight. See every photograph I avoided for years.
- When I have the qualification. Nobody asks.
- When things settle down. They don’t.
- When I feel ready. Readiness turns out to be something that arrives after you start, not before.
The test I’d apply: if the condition were met tomorrow, would you actually do the thing?
If the honest answer is no, the condition isn’t a prerequisite. It’s a reason, and it will be replaced by a fresh one the moment it’s satisfied. Better to find out now than after another two years of working towards it.
What I’d add to the list
A sixth, from watching a lot of business owners since.
They don’t confuse being busy with making progress. It’s entirely possible to work sixteen hours a day on a business that isn’t moving, and the exhaustion feels like evidence you’re doing everything you can. It usually isn’t. It’s frequently evidence that nothing has been decided, so everything is still on your plate.
The people who get furthest are rarely the ones working hardest. They’re the ones who decided what not to do.
A note added later: I wrote item one as an overweight woman who had made peace with it. I did eventually lose the weight — over 210 pounds across the following seven years. I’m leaving the original as it stood, because the point it was making was the right one and it wasn’t conditional on the outcome. Not letting it rule my life is what made the rest possible, rather than something I earned afterwards.
