Whenever I talk about working in real-time, making decisions as you go, figuring things out now rather than before, I get a question like this... "If you don't have a backlog, or deep sets of prioritized, ranked items, how do you decide what to do next?" My answer:  The same way you do when your made your list. You make decisions. We just make decisions about what to work on next as we go, looking forward, rather than making decisions as we went, looking backwards. Why work from what /seemed/ like a good idea before? Instead, work from appears to be a good idea now. You have more information now — why not use it? It's always baffled me how people who pluck work from long lists of past decisions think you can't make those same kinds of decisions now instead. It's all yay/nay decisions. Same process. Before wasn't magical. Before was just now, then. Why not look at now, now? Now is a far more accurate version of next. The backlog way is based on what you thought then. The non-backlog way is based on what you think now. I'll take now. One's stale, one's fresh. We'll take fresh. Then is further, now is closer. There's nothing special about having made decisions already. They aren't better, they aren't more accurate, they aren't more substantial just because they've been made. What they are, however, is older and often outdated. If you've got to believe in something, I'd suggest putting more faith in now. -Jason

Business isn’t something you learn in books. Or posts. Or threads. You can’t read your way to the right hire. You can't consume enough content to produce a product. You have to do. You learn business by doing business. Hiring by hiring. Products by building them. We know this is true in music. Never pick up a guitar? Go read 100 books on guitar. You'll suck just as much. You have to play. You can only learn guitar by playing. Business is music. Some things can be taught. Some are just knowledge. Business isn't that kind of thing. Products aren't those kinds of things. Like music. Like sports. Like anything physical. You have to do the thing to get better at the thing. In that way, business is more physical than mental. It's not a formula you can learn. It's not a series of lessons you can internalize. It's not a list you can complete. Business is muscle memory. It's built by doing. Go do. -Jason

One of the great lessons of nature: Randomness is the most beautiful thing. Every forest, every field, every place untouched by humans is full of randomness. Nothing lines up, a million different shapes, sprouting seeds burst where the winds — or birds — randomly drop them. Stones strewn by water, ice, gravity, and wind, all acting on their own in their own ways. Things that just stop and stay. Until they move somehow, another day. The way the light falls, the dapples that hit the dirt. The shades of shades of shades of green and gold that work no matter what's behind it. The way the wind carries whatever's light enough for liftoff. The negative space between the leaves. Colliding clouds. The random wave that catches light from the predictable sun. The water's surface like a shuffled blanket. Collect the undergrowth in your hand. Lift it up. Drop it on the ground. It's always beautiful. However it comes together, or however it stays apart, you never look at it and say that doesn't line up or those colors don't work or there's simply too much stuff or I don't know where to look. Nature's out of line. Just right. You too. -Jason

I'm republishing this for a friend who doesn't have a reliable place to publish this online. It's a letter she wrote and sent to a number of newspapers. Her family was a victim of the recent Franklin wildfire, and unlike other recent fires, the Franklin fire wasn't included in the Governor's emergency declaration for disaster relief. This has devastating downstream implications on those who lost everything, and their neighbors and neighborhoods. Here is her piece, in its entirety. Governor Newsom can change this with the stroke of a pen, and it's my understanding he's been presented with an opportunity to sign this into being, but has, as of now, refused. If you know anyone who can reach Governor Newsom and help make this happen for all the folks who suffered dearly in Franklin, please do. Thank you. —— Malibu's Forgotten Fire: Why the Franklin Fire Must Be Included in Disaster Relief On December 9th, my home burned in the Franklin Fire in Malibu. Just 19 days after it was contained, the Palisades Fire ignited and raged all the way to my neighborhood. The fire was only stopped because there was simply nothing left to burn. Despite this undeniable connection, Franklin Fire victims are not included in disaster relief efforts, leaving me and my neighbors in a dire situation with no support. During this time, I was unable to return to my property. Homes on my street still lack drinkable water and essential utilities. The communication poles burned down, making recovery even more challenging. The already difficult job of dealing with the Franklin Fire has been compounded by the Palisades Fire, yet we have been left out of relief efforts. The housing market is overrun, and price gouging has made anything available unaffordable. I don’t qualify for help because my fire “doesn’t count.” I don’t qualify for free toxin testing or free debris removal from the Army Corps of Engineers. I don’t qualify for streamlined tax relief or financial benefits. I am still waiting for any assistance to cover my family’s initial six-week stay in a hotel with our pets. What was initially expected to be a few months of hardship has now turned into an estimated two-year ordeal—because I am at the bottom of every priority list. The most devastating realization is that I am woefully underinsured for this disaster. If I were allowed to combine my insurance policy, I would have the funds needed to rebuild. But because the Franklin Fire is not included in the broader emergency declaration, I am prohibited from accessing this option. If the Franklin Fire were bundled with the officially recognized wildfires, I could qualify for the necessary coverage to repair my home. It is heartbreaking to see that just 19 days after the Franklin Fire, victims of the Palisades Fire have been granted sweeping benefits and streamlined permits. They will be able to rebuild their homes “like for like” plus an additional ten percent without the need for permits—not even for homes or septic systems. Meanwhile, I don’t qualify for this exemption. I don’t qualify for state-backed relief efforts. My neighborhood, which was undeniably part of this disaster, is being ignored. Instead, I am left with nothing but bureaucratic red tape and empty reassurances. Why is my neighborhood excluded from these crucial relief efforts? The answer is simple: Governor Gavin Newsom has not signed off on it. Other fires across Los Angeles—including those caused by arsonists—have been bundled into the broader wildfire relief programs. Fires that never even touched the Palisades are included. So why not the Franklin Fire? Malibu is not just a playground for the rich and famous. It is home to multi-generational families like mine. I was born and raised in Malibu. My grandparents’ home on Pacific Coast Highway, which they purchased in the 1940s, was lost in the Palisades Fire. My parents’ home—my childhood home—was lost in the Palisades Fire. My own home, where I lived with my husband and child, burned in the Franklin Fire just 19 days before. The Franklin Fire was still smoldering when the Palisades Fire ignited. We were still in a hotel, not yet having found a place to rent. We are part of this disaster, yet we have been erased from its response. It is time for the Franklin Fire to be included in the state of emergency declaration. We need access to relief, insurance flexibility, and the same streamlined rebuilding process granted to our neighbors. We are victims of this disaster, and we deserve to be recognized as such.