Just Some Thoughts

Everyone has ideas.

But most aren’t worth a damn if they can’t be delivered, day after day.

Creativity is overrated. Discipline builds empires.

The real secret weapon? Process.

It’s boring. It’s thankless. But it’s everything.

Clients don’t just buy creativity—they buy reliability.

The best businesses aren’t the flashiest. They’re the most disciplined.

If your results feel hit-or-miss, it’s not a creativity problem.

It’s a systems problem.

Creativity thrives in structure. Build the right processes, and the results take care of themselves.

I had a professor in college — Dr. Hinsel. God rest his soul.

Great guy. One of those you either loved him or hated him types.

He taught an exit course on marketing strategy. Every week, he’d give us a business problem, and we had to come up with a strategy to solve it. Then, we’d pitch it to the class.

Now picture this: I’m sitting in the back, wearing sunglasses indoors, watching student after student walk up and get absolutely wrecked. Great ideas. Some fantastic thinking. But Dr. Hinsel would tear them apart like a fireman’s axe through plywood.

Red faces. Squinted eyes. Angry stares. Students storming off stage like moody grandmothers robbed of bingo winnings.

Then it was my turn.

I knew I was screwed. Because this wasn’t about marketing strategy. The ideas didn’t matter.

So I step up. First question out of his mouth?

“Mr. I Think I’m Cool — why the hell are you wearing sunglasses in my classroom?”

(Class laughs.)

Not off to a great start.

I took them off.

“Jesus. What happened to you?”

“I’ve got a stye in each eye, sir.”

Maybe I’d get some sympathy.

“Put the glasses back on. The class doesn’t want to see that.”

Nope. Definitely no sympathy.

I pitched my idea — something about increasing sales of fresh dog food. (This was the early 2000s, mind you.)

Immediately, he’s on me: What about this? Why didn’t you consider that? Have you thought about X, Y, or Z?

“Great points, sir. I’m not married to my idea.”

He pauses. Smiles.

“That’s right. Don’t ever get married to your ideas. That’s enough. Sit down. You’re scaring the class.”

Maybe it was the giant whiteheads in my eyes. Or maybe I passed the test. I’ll never know.

But what I do know is what I learned:

When someone challenges your idea, don’t defend. Get curious. Explore their point of view. If their idea’s better, go with it.

There’s no reward for clinging to a mediocre idea just to get credit. Real strength? It’s in choosing what works best — not what’s yours.

Growth rarely happens in comfort zones.

As a manager/leader, the hardest part isn’t solving problems— it’s letting the team make mistakes.

It’s so tempting to step in and ‘fix it.’

I used to do this. I wouldn’t let anything go out the door unless I saw it.

Other than becoming the super bottleneck, I robbed them of the chance to learn, adapt, and grow.

Our job isn’t to shield team members from failure; it’s to create a space where failure becomes a stepping stone.

Because the strongest teams are built on trust and lessons learned—not perfection.

People love to overcomplicate strategy.

‘What’s the best channel?’

‘What’s the perfect campaign?’

‘How do we hack the algorithm?’

But here’s the thing: It all comes down to trust.

If your audience doesn’t trust you—your promise, your product, your delivery—nothing else matters.

Trust is earned in the details:

• Showing up consistently.
• Being honest about what you can (and can’t) do.
• Delivering what you say you will, every single time.

Forget the hacks—start with trust.

The four most powerful four words I use in sales conversations: 

We don’t do that. 

The words build trust. There’s relief when they hear them. 

And it’s always a moment when they realize you’re not BS’ing them.

Clients come to me all the time. They kick things off by explaining what they do and what they want.

And sometimes, what they want? It’s just not what we do.

So I’m blunt: We don’t do that. If that’s what you’re looking for, we’re not going to be a good fit.

You’d think that would throw them off, but it’s usually the opposite. I can see the tension drop. They relax. The defenses go down. They’re not bracing for a pitch full of fluff.

And that’s when the real conversation starts—what they actually need, how we can help, and how we can hit their goals doing what we’re great at.

That honesty creates trust. It clears the air. But hey, if anyone’s got tips on how to drop the defenses even faster, I’m all ears.

When I misstep or stretch too far and lose, in reflection, I often find that practice is what’s missing.

I wanted it. But I didn’t earn it.
I didn’t do the reps. Not enough of them, anyway.

Luck plays a part, but preparation matters more.

When things feel out of rhythm, this should be your first thought: Am I practicing enough?

Practice isn’t just play—it’s focused effort, aimed at achieving something meaningful. It requires a plan. Without one, you’re only getting better at doing things the wrong way.

It’s best done alone, in the quiet, where you can get in the zone and truly refine your skills.

So when you feel like you’re not good enough or things aren’t going the way you want, ask yourself:

• Have I put in the practice?
• Am I out of practice?
• When was the last time I committed to meaningful practice?

Chances are, the answer will point you in the right direction.

“You’re there for a reason.”

The words hit me like a brick wall. Ice cold, straight to the point.

My mentor delivered them when my agency was struggling to find its footing. At the time, I dreamed of transforming mom-and-pop businesses into prominent brands. I wanted to give them resources they’d never had.

When I told him this, he short-circuited. It was a total WTF moment. He stammered, then said:

“They’re there for a reason. And you’re not going to be able to help them. What you want isn’t what they want.”

See, my clients weren’t paying their bills. We couldn’t grow our accounts even if they were. I wanted more for them than they wanted for themselves.  

He continued:
“You’re there for a reason too. You’re not the fix for their business acumen. You’re not in control of their desire.”

That shifted my perspective instantly.

We are all where we are for a reason—our actions, decisions, or even inaction got us here. The trick is recognizing that reason and deciding what to do next.

In my case, I had to face a hard truth: my goals and my clients’ realities didn’t align. I wanted something for them they didn’t want for themselves. That disconnect kept me stuck.

The same applies to all of us. If the reason you’re “there” doesn’t align with your goals, then you’re fighting yourself.

You’re there for a reason. And so am I.

Complacency kills. 

Google search is on a path to become gloried yellow pages. 

The way people look for information is evolving. 

Most Google searches are people answering a question with no buyer intent. That traffic is being siphoned off to ChatGPT and the like. 

A new habit is forming. 

Next year, Google’s predicted to be below 50% for ad search share for the first time in a decade. TikTok, Amazon, Perplexity and other AI tools are chipping away. 

This means that traffic is dwindling for anyone overly reliant on Google’s SEO traffic and ads, and you should explore other channels. 

Will Google die? Nah. 

Will you be left holding the bag if your competitors embrace the other channels? For sure. 

If you were late to the game with SEO and Google ads to begin with, don’t make the same mistake. 

It doesn’t matter. 

The small things holding you back, they don’t matter. 

The little voice inside saying, “but what if they think…”

Regardless, of what you do and what happens, it doesn’t matter. 

The only reason it matters, is because you’re making it so. 

It doesn’t have to be that way. 

You choose how you want it to be. It’s your game. 

Play it your way. Because after all, it doesn’t matter. 

Sometimes life comes at us too fast. Everything is vying for our attention, from apps to people. And while at work, we go from one task to another. Pow, pow, pow— just knocking stuff out.

But this overstimulation can make you anxious. Next thing you know, you’re unable to focus. You’re frustrated. And down and down you go. Maybe you have an anxiety attack. Maybe you feel exhausted. Maybe you burn yourself out entirely. Either way, you’re heading in the wrong direction.

But what if you could slow everything down. What if you could gain control of what’s happening?

I have a trick.

Write it all down.

You see, when your phone rings while typing that email and an incoming slack message catches your attention, your focus is pulled in three different directions. It makes it tough to get anything done. And your mind is like an engine. And just like an engine every time you switch focus, you switch gears. You’re grinding them. And by the end of the day, you’re frazzled and your brain is mush.

So the first trick is to write down the task you’re working on. I recommend a sticky note. Even if it’s on your calendar. Write down the task, and stick it in front of you no matter what. What’s on that sticky note is the only thing you’re supposed to be working on. When you finish the task, toss it in the trash.

Next, write down everything you do. I do this in a journal. I know, it sounds a bit crazy, but it works. You literally write down everything you do. One day may take up pages. Doesn’t matter. And I mean everything. If you’re writing the email to Carl and the phone rings with your mom on the other line and you take that call, write down “Email to Carl” and “Phone call from Mom” as soon as those tasks are complete.

The idea here is to create space so you can get into a rhythm. Going from one task to the next without a break is hard. And sure, you can take breaks in between. But it’s the accumulation of small tasks that’ll get you. Not the big ones.

Writing soothes the mind. You’ll find your breath and balance between your work. And you’ll also gain a sense of control.