A friend reached out a few months back and asked for help.
He was shaping the next chapter of a business and asked if I'd help guide it. The more we talked, the more it lit me up. The strategy. The structure. How I might actually do it.
It fit a lot of what I care about too. A role that felt like the amount of time I wanted to give it. Impact that resonated with me deeply.
So I flew out to see the lay of the land. I had a great time with my friend. It felt alive.
People ask me some version of the same question. The opportunities keep arriving. Some are exciting. Some are a stretch. A few come from people you love. How do you tell which ones are yours to play?
I didn't know the answer to that one when I started. Exploring it is how I found out.
Somewhere after the trip, it started to feel heavy.
It stopped feeling exciting. As the details came into focus, it got clearer that doing it well would take far more of me than initially planned. More time. More presence. Months on the ground, getting my hands "dirty".
Nothing wrong with hard work or a challenge, but that wasn't the game I wanted to play.
Commitments come in sizes. Saying yes to something for a day is easy. A couple of weeks is a different conversation. A couple of years, different again. This one had the shape of half a decade, maybe a decade.
So I gave it the time and space a commitment that size deserves. I felt into all of it.
The hardest part was my friend. He'd looked to me for help. I didn't want to let him down. If it had been a neutral opportunity, I'd likely have said no sooner.
Oftentimes we've identified as the "character". The one with the name and the calendar, hands on the wheel, taking whichever road shows up next.
We don't always know the "player" has a say. The player gets to architect the game. Design the business. Design the whole ecosystem of a life, with the business as one part of it.
That's what this one showed me. The player reset the destination. The character got to go back to enjoying the drive, puzzles and all.
The enticing invitations that turn out not to be yours refine your own game. They reveal who's been steering.
I didn't have to say no. I chose to.
I chose it because I want the best for my friend. A yes from me would've been a yes out of obligation. A half-hearted yes takes up space. It sits in the seat that someone with their whole heart in it could be filling.
Soon after, someone else stepped forward. Excited. Already talking about moving toward it. We had a long conversation recently that gave him some clarity on the path. I left it wanting him to absolutely crush it.
My no and his yes add up to a better game for everyone in it.
I think of it as a forest that moves on its own. It lets through what belongs and turns each of us toward our own road. Sometimes you're the one being ushered. Sometimes you're part of the forest. Your no can be how the right person finds their way in.
I've recalibrated how I hold these now. It's always a refinement. Always an evolution.
When something intriguing lands, I feel into it. Does it feel exciting? Is there something to learn here? Is this a no I can give more easily, for me and for the other person, so the right person can step into those shoes?
The body holds the answer. If it feels exciting for a couple of days or a couple of weeks, I honor that and explore it. A small commitment gets a quick taste. A big one gets a longer digestion. That's fine too.
Then the moment arrives when it's clear. Oh. This isn't the game. But now I know better.
Each time, the knowing comes a little sooner. Contrast, alignment or simply, this is awesome.
If most of what you've known is choosing by obligation or fear, the feeling of something that's actually yours can feel almost foreign at first. A breath of fresh air.
You can get familiar with it on purpose.
One Alive Thing starts with a single hour spent on the one thing that feels most Alive to you right now. Time inside your own game. So when the next invitation lands, you already know what yours feels like.
And the ones that aren't yours become someone else's yes.
Lane
Enjoy the Journey
