Wyze.ly

Note sure you can hammer the nail more than this one. I love it! What’s the difference? Actually, there are many differences:

Amateurs stop when they achieve something. Professionals understand that the initial achievement is just the beginning.

Amateurs have a goal. Professionals have a process.

Amateurs think they are good at everything. Professionals understand their circles of competence.

Amateurs see feedback and coaching as someone criticizing them as a person. Professionals know they have weak spots and seek out thoughtful criticism.

Amateurs value isolated performance. Think about the receiver who catches the ball once on a difficult throw. Professionals value consistency. Can I catch the ball in the same situation 9 times out of 10?

Amateurs give up at the first sign of trouble and assume they’re failures. Professionals see failure as part of the path to growth and mastery.

Amateurs don’t have any idea what improves the odds of achieving good outcomes. Professionals do.

Amateurs show up to practice to have fun. Professionals realize that what happens in practice happens in games.

Amateurs focus on identifying their weaknesses and improving them. Professionals focus on their strengths and on finding people who are strong where they are weak.

Amateurs think knowledge is power. Professionals pass on wisdom and advice.

Amateurs focus on being right. Professionals focus on getting the best outcome.

Amateurs focus on first-level thinking. Professionals focus on second-level thinking.

Amateurs think good outcomes are the result of their brilliance. Professionals understand when outcomes are the result of luck.

Amateurs focus on the short term. Professionals focus on the long term.

Amateurs focus on tearing other people down. Professionals focus on making everyone better.

Amateurs make decisions in committees so there is no one person responsible if things go wrong. Professionals make decisions as individuals and accept responsibility.

Amateurs blame others. Professionals accept responsibility.

I heard you deleted the Internet from your phone. And that you deleted Twitter and Instagram and e-mail. No way that’s true, right?

It is! Whenever you check for a new post on Instagram or whenever you go on The New York Times to see if there’s a new thing, it’s not even about the content. It’s just about seeing a new thing. You get addicted to that feeling. You're not going to be able to control yourself. So the only way to fight that is to take yourself out of the equation and remove all these things.

What happens is, eventually you forget about it. You don't care anymore. When I first took the browser off my phone, I'm like, [gasp] How am I gonna look stuff up? But most of the shit you look up, it's not stuff you need to know. All those websites you read while you're in a cab, you don't need to look at any of that stuff.

Shoedog by Phil Knight

One of the best book I ever read. It made me cried and made me shout of admiration. Above all, you read this book because of how it makes you feel, and not just because it is phenomenally well written.

The energy and emotions you feel each time you take the book in your hands and read a chapter representing a year in the life of Phil is hard to describe. You wish you could teleport yourself in time and beg to be part of the adventure, to be part of the family. Not for the glory or the money, but for the possible dent in the universe you could make together.

Jason Fried:

One of the biggest costs is regret.

Sometimes you’ll do anything to avoid the immediate pain of saying no. And since in the near-term there’s little cost to saying “yes”, promises feel like a bargain. But while promises are cheap and easy to make, actual work is hard and expensive to do.

Once it’s time to get to work, you realize just how expensive that “yes” really was.

This is really well said by the author: 

"Wisdom is about pattern recognition. And the older you are, the more patterns you’ve seen."

George S Patton

Steve Prefontaine - The greatest long distance runner to ever lived.

“He was the exact age I’d been when I left with Carter for Hawaii. In other words, when my life began. At twenty-four I didn’t yet know who I was, and Pre not only knew who he was, the world knew. He died holding every American distance record from 2,000 meters to 10,000 meters, from two miles to six miles. Of course, what he really held, what he’d captured and kept and now would never let go of, was our imaginations.”

Phil Knight