Jimmy Chim

Category: Story

  • Breakthrough at 99 Ranch

    99 Ranch is a pan-Asian grocery store in the U.S. What sets it apart from traditional American grocery stores is its fish department. While most American supermarkets sell pre-cut fillets, 99 Ranch features a wide selection of whole fish. The staff stands ready to prep the fish to your liking—cleaned, head removed, or even fried.

    Despite the robust selection and the full service, I had never bought a whole fish in my 15 years of shopping there. I often wanted to try it, but my lack of experience held me back: I felt stumped about which fish to choose and how to cook it. 

    Seafood is an integral part of Cantonese cuisine, so I had a fair amount of fish growing up. However, as a kid, I was a mindless eater. I often ate whatever was at the dinner table without knowing what fish they were or how they were prepared; my mother took care of all that.

    When I visited 99 Ranch this past week, I felt the urge to break the cycle. I decided to go with the most straightforward option that involved no work: fried fish.

    Approaching the seafood counter, I was once again overwhelmed by the options. Cod, tilapia, hamachi… How about bass? Oh, there are three types of bass…

    As I stood, undecided and unsure, the shoppers around me navigated with confidence. A Chinese lady picked up a trout with a plastic bag in hand. An Indian lady requested to slice her bass into four equal steak pieces.

    Finally, it was my turn. I mustered the courage and asked if snappers were suitable for frying; the seafood clerk behind the counter said yes.

    “Ok, I will take this snapper. Regular fry #5, please.” I said.

    The clerk efficiently cleaned and descaled the fish before dunking it into the hot oil. Five minutes later, he removed the golden-fried snapper from the fryer, wrapped it in foil and paper, and slapped a $6.32 sticker on the packet. He handed it over and wished me a good day.

    That’s it?

    I took the fish home and enjoyed it with soy sauce and chili sauce; it was delicious. What tasted better, though, was the triumph from a small breakthrough: I no longer have to shy away from the fish department.

  • Losing Rhythm

    I have been tracking my morning habits on and off for two years. My morning routine has three things: a few minutes of light exercise, a few minutes of meditation, and reading/writing. In my journal, I write an X every time I do these things. 

    I fell off the routine over the last 30 days; that was the longest stretch of misses in the last two years. I got sick for a couple of weeks and had work travels, among other things. My body struggled in the morning, so I prioritized rest. 

    My strength had since returned, but I didn’t resume my habits right away. After missing it for a few weeks, I lost rhythm. 

    Maybe I should just scrap the routine? 

    But I miss how it feels to accomplish the things I set out to do first thing in the morning. When I follow the routine, I feel more grounded. Going without it in the last few weeks left me more irritable and distracted. 

    So for the 47th time, I have decided to restart this week. I have been through this before: I will fall again, and that’s okay. What matters is whether I choose to pick up where I left off.

  • 30 Years of Pool

    For a while before the pandemic, I was into playing billiards. This hobby came to a halt when covid hit since all the pool halls were closed.

    In early 2021, a pool hall called Samwon Billiard in Oakland Koreatown was reopening. I texted Kevin, my pool buddy, to see if he was interested. Kevin and I hadn’t met in person for over a year. Both of us hadn’t yet been vaccinated at that point. We deliberated but quickly decided that the risk was worth it as long as we wore a mask. It had been too long since we last played.

    Once we decided to go, I grew excited. “I’m actually shaking. This is a dream lol.” Kevin texted back.

    Thomas, the owner of the billiard business, is a mellow, soft-spoken Korean man in his sixties. The pool hall has been around since the mid-90s. I asked Thomas why he went into this business.

    “The previous owner missed rent and left. The landlord was looking for someone to take over,” he said. “I was somewhat keen on billiards. A pool business didn’t seem hard to operate. But boy, that street was truly scary in the 90s… lots of crimes and gun violence back then.”

    Thomas often checked in on his customers. He would clean the tables himself, offered snacks, and–if you were up for it–show you to how to play Korean pool on the table without pockets.

    A year and a half ago, Kevin shared with Thomas that he would leave the Bay Area and move to New York, so it could be a while until he visited again. On Kevin’s last visit, Thomas bought us Korean dinners with galbi, japchae, and chicken. He offered his private soju for farewell.

    Recently, I heard that Samwon is closing next month. The area will be rebuilt as apartments. I also heard Thomas is happy to take a break after working hard for 30 years.

  • Secret Broth Ingredients

    There is a family-run Vietnamese restaurant not far from my house called Super Super Restaurant. I have been going there for years. The owner, his wife, and his kids work at the restaurant.

    Super Super’s menu has less than 20 items. Pho noodles, banh mi sandwiches, and rice plates are the classics. Their #1 noodle soup is my favorite. The pho broth is the best of all the Vietnamese restaurants in the area.

    When I went for lunch a few weeks ago, the owner took my orders with his usual big smile. As we chatted, I asked how long he had been in business.

    “Ohhhh…this location for over eight years. I started cooking in Vietnam in 1978, and I moved to America in 1982,” he said, “I have been cooking for over 40 years.”

    There it was—the secret to Super Super’s amazing broth: forty years of work and dedication.

  • The Cost of Delicious Lentils

    Earlier this week, we went to an Ethiopian restaurant nearby. Like our last visit two years ago, Shita, an Ethiopian woman in her fifties, greeted us with a warm, soft smile and hurried back into the kitchen. She was the only person working. Taking phone orders, cooking, serving — it was all her.

    The chickpea stew, lentils, and spicy mushrooms came out piping hot. As we enjoyed our meal, Shita confided she would likely close the business in the coming months. Rent had increased substantially. The kitchen would flood at times. The landlord was difficult to deal with: he refused to fix the plumbing issues and other damages on the property, and they were in multiple disputes. She fixed some issues on her own and paid for a contractor out of her pocket for other bigger problems, essentially making her work for nothing for days.

    Even though the quality of her food was outstanding (4.5+ stars on Google Maps and Yelp with hundreds of reviews)—Shita clearly took pride in her food—business had declined due to covid and inflation. A month ago, a customer stole her iPhone along with a credit card processor when she was working in the kitchen. For the next two days, customers couldn’t reach her (some grew concerned and checked on her in person), and she lost more business.

    “I have managed this business alone for eight years,” she said. “I’m tired. I think I’m ready to move on. It’s okay. The worst case is that I will live with less. I have my family. I have no problem being happy. I will figure something out. Maybe I will go back to the farmer’s market.”

    It’s rare to get a glimpse of the people working behind a mom-and-pop business. Shita strikes me as someone who believes. She takes risks, works hard when no one else pays attention, and persists even when the outcome is uncertain.

    Once I understand the real cost Shita bears to share her food with the world, the price I pay for my lunch is clearly too low.

  • Me? They’ve Got Me Wrong

    Most people know Michaelangelo as a famous painter, but not many know that he was also a poet. In fact, he wrote a poem how uncertain he felt about painting.

    Giovanni, come agitate
    for my pride, my poor dead art! I don’t belong!
    Who’s a painter? Me? No way! They’ve got me wrong.

    The Complete Poems of Michaelangelo, Poem #5

  • The Headaches We Don’t See

    I went on a bike ride with a friend the other day. He started a company 8 years ago. His company has been growing over time, and he now has a sizable team.

    Recently, he has hit a rough spot. He has been working with a large customer who promised 50x his existing business over the last three years. This customer turned out to be running into financial trouble over the last year. Their attitude began to turn, and the relationship soured.

    Now they are in a legal dispute over millions of dollars. The customer wants to cancel an order and get a refund of what was supposed to be a non-refundable prepayment.

    The whole episode has caused distress to my friend. Not only has his effort not turned into business growth as expected, but he is also spending a significant amount of time dealing with lawyers and court cases.

    My friend looked tired. “Sometimes I just want to be an employee. Get my salary and forget about the rest,” he said.

    The comment struck me. There’s often a halo around entrepreneurship. It seems like a “cool” thing to do, and in my view, it’s endlessly fascinating to build an enterprise, especially for a worthy cause, solving a problem you are called to solve.

    But what we often don’t see is the risks, the headaches, and the uncertainties that go behind the seen. It’s not all glamorous.

    Nothing is.

  • How I Came to Love Basketball

    When I was in fifth grade, I transferred to a new school.

    My previous school was in a densely populated neighborhood in Macau. The school playground for 1,500 students was the size of one basketball court. The school banned students from running in the playground at all times except during PE classes.

    When I first walked into Colegio Dom Bosco, I was stunned: there were eight basketball hoops, a soccer field, and an indoor gymnasium. My new school allowed students to play sports anytime: before class, during recess, during PE, during lunch break, and after school.

    You must be joking.

    A religious society called the Salesians of Don Bosco managed the school. John Bosco, the society’s founder, was an Italian priest who dedicated his life to poor youth in Turin, Italy, in the 19th century. Bosco believed play must be an integral part of education, and sports should be available to all.

    I didn’t know anything about Don Bosco then, nor did I care. All I knew was that I played basketball four times a day. It was heavenly.

    On the other hand, my mother wasn’t too pleased.

    Many mornings when I walked out of the house in my ironed uniform–a white shirt, white pants, and a maroon tie in the winter–my mother reminded me that I was expected to be home by 4:30 pm sharp. She said I’d better get on the first available bus after school. I nodded.

    School ended. My friends inevitably asked, “Game?”

    Sure, why not. I have time.

    When I walked into the house at six o’clock, panting, my mother was furious. The buses were full, I said, and there was traffic. She pointed to the dark ring of stain that had formed around my collar from sweating. When I looked down, I noticed my white pants had turned gray. My black leather shoes had scuffs and scratches. I smelled terrible.

    But I didn’t care. I was having the best time of my life. That was far more important than keeping my uniform clean or getting home on time.

  • Balling with the Americans

    Two weeks after I arrived in America, I took a bus to Target–the one on Stevens Creek Boulevard in Cupertino. I located the sports aisle and settled on a $24.99 Spalding indoor/outdoor basketball. The cheaper $19.99 Wilson tempted me, but five dollars seemed a reasonable premium for a ball with a better grip.

    I went to an outdoor court near my apartment. The court was empty, so I practiced layups with my new ball. Ten minutes later, five guys showed up. They asked if I was interested in a game.

    I was nervous: I had never played basketball with Americans before. 

    Do they all really good?

    Two of the guys were much taller than me–must have been at least 6’4″–and I imagined them dunking. But I was the last player they needed for a 3-on-3, so I said yes.

    The group was friendly. At first, I didn’t understand what they meant when they said, “Let’s do 1’s and 2’s” and “Clear everything,” but thankfully, basketball is a simple game: you score when the ball goes into the hoop.

    They were all better players than me, but I had fun.

  • What Kept Me In the Game

    While packing my gym bag last Saturday, I held my basketball for a second. The sense of anticipation, of possibilities, hadn’t changed since fifth grade.

    What I love the most about basketball is the experience of focusing on one thing. When a game is on, the rest of the world melts away. The only thing that matters is the play at hand. There is no time for analysis when you must make hundreds of nuanced decisions within milliseconds. There is no room to dwell on the last airball when the other team comes up with another attack. There’s no choice but to let go of the busy mind, rely on the body, and let instinct take over.

    The game makes me feel free and alive. That’s why I go back for more.


    “It hadn’t really ever occurred to me to let things flow the opposite way. But that’s what knitting did. It reversed the flow. It buckled my churning brain into the back seat and allowed my hands to drive the car for a while. It detoured me away from my anxiety, just enough to provide some relief. Any time I picked up those needles, I’d feel the rearrangement, my fingers doing the work, my mind trailing behind.”

    —Michelle Obama on knitting, from her book The Light We Carry

  • How I Nearly Lost $196.24

    I received two texts Monday morning.

    6:34am: “Wayfair: You are unsubscribed from all SMS alerts.”

    6:32am: “Thank you for placing your order with Wayfair. Reply Y to confirm your order. If you did not place this order, reply N.”

    I was puzzled.

    Did I sleepwalk and shop for furniture in the middle of the night?

    I opened my email and saw a flood of messages. There were at least three dozen email list confirmations, coming from Alliance Française Bristol, United Churches of Langley, BPI Asset Manager, among others. Some were in Polish and Romanian.

    I scrolled to the bottom and saw the two messages that started it all:

    6:33am: Thank you for your order!
    ​
    ​6:20am: New Device Sign-in

    Now I understood what had happened. An ambitious fraudster woke up at six in the morning, logged into my account, and shopped for 13 minutes. He—or she—picked an “80-Quart Antique Patio Cooler” worth $200. Once he placed the order, he disabled text alerts on my account (he should have done this first). He then signed me up for multiple mailing lists to overwhelm my inbox and cover up the order confirmation.

    The invoice had a woman’s name and a delivery address near Sacramento, California. An online search indicates a 75-year-old woman lives at the said address.

    Did she commit the fraud? Possible, but unlikely; that would be too obvious. If it was her grandson, would he be so reckless to use her grandmother’s real name and address? Could it be one of the woman’s neighbors?

    Also, was the plan to use the patio cooler for a barbecue this weekend, resell it on eBay, or something else?

    Moreover, how many times has the fraudster pulled this trick? Where did he get my login? Does he do this for fun, a side income, or a living?

    I have many more questions.

  • 15 Minutes a Day

    Anthony Trollope was a 19th-century English writer. Throughout his life, he published over sixty books and an impressive collection of letters and short stories. He did that on top of a full-time job at the postal services.

    His childhood and young adulthood didn’t appear promising:

    • His classmates bullied him at school.
    • He failed his bar exam even though his father was a lawyer. 
    • He fled to Belgium to avoid money lenders when his farming venture was unsuccessful. 
    • He had a poor reputation for being late and insubordinate while working at the London post office.

    But things began to turn in 1841. Trollope transferred to Ireland for a new postal assignment. Around this time, Trollope explored becoming a writer. 

    Every morning Trollope would write for a couple of hours, in 15-minute increments, before heading to the post office. He aimed at 250 words every 15 minutes. 

    He kept this routine for decades. It made a difference.

    —

    When I first read Trollope’s story a couple of years ago, it inspired me to set small, effort-based goals. 

    I used to set multiple ambitious goals on a given day, like “finish an article” or “file taxes.” I would get frustrated at the end of the day when I couldn’t get even one thing done.

    Now my goals are simpler: “write for 20 minutes” or “work on taxes for half an hour.” They are independent of the outcome. I find it easier to focus on the task at hand and get into the flow. Working on projects this way has become less stressful and more enjoyable.

    Trollope’s method has also inspired me to go on short walks. 

    Every day I stroll around the neighborhood for 15 minutes. It has done wonders for my mental health. Sometimes Youali teases me and says, “You are back from the walk already? You just went out.” It’s lovely.

  • Imperfect Option

    Amelia Earhart aspired to be an aviator, but flying wasn’t a career option for women in the 1920s, so she got a job a social worker.

    One day at work in 1928, Earhart got a phone call. “Would you like to fly the Atlantic?” a man asked. Though with one condition: she would only be a “token pilot”—the plane would actually be operated by another man.

    What did she say to this preposterous offer? She said yes.

    Four years later in 1932, Earhart was the first woman to fly solo across the Atlantic Ocean. She became an inspiration around the world.

    None of these would have happened had she turned down that offensive offer in the first place. She knew she needed to get started somewhere—even though the option presented wasn’t perfect.

  • What Didn’t Change After A Decade

    This past week, I organized my room and came across a stack of old notes from a decade ago. It appeared I journaled for about three months before picking it up again six years later.

    I was taken aback by what I privately wrote, in Chinese, on August 23, 2014:

    A blank piece of paper.
    Don’t know what to write.
    No plans.
    No goals.
    I must write.
    Translate my thoughts into ink.
    I don’t need a glamorous life.
    But I don’t want a suffocating routine of only making money and paying bills.
    I must leave here.
    Life has to be more than this.

    Many aspects of me have changed in 9 years, but many have also remained.

  • Disrupt a 20-year Pattern

    In the last 20 years, I started many projects. I had a dozen blogs with less than ten posts. I had a podcast in 2006 with five episodes on computer-related topics. I lost count of how many journals I had bought.

    These projects were nowhere to be found three months later (sometimes only two weeks).

    Cantonese, my first language, has a lovely expression for someone like me: “having three-minute passions.”

    While six months isn’t long, my weekly newsletter project is the most consistent creative pursuit I have ever done.

    This time, I made a simple rule for myself: No matter what happens, the newsletter goes out on Friday at 6:30 am Pacific Time every week. No exceptions. Even if the week is a disaster. Even if doubt kicks in. Even if I cringe at my draft on Thursday night.

    Let’s see if one change can break the patterns of two decades.

  • Streetlight Effect

    Late one night, a policeman sees a man looking for something under a streetlight. The policeman asks the man what he’s looking for.

    “My keys,” he says.

    Both of them look under the streetlight together. After a while, the policeman asks the man if he is sure he has lost the keys near the streetlight.

    “No, I lost them in the park,” the man replies.

    The policeman asks, “Why are you looking for the keys here?”

    “This is where the light is,” the man says.

    An easy place to search, but not where he should be looking.

  • Choosing to look 

    In 1928, Scottish physician and microbiologist Alexander Fleming went on a two-week vacation. He left a stack of Petri dishes for a bacteria study in his hospital lab in London.

    When he returned, he realized the dishes were never placed in an incubator as intended. Mold grew. The dishes were ruined.

    Amid the mess, however, he noticed something unusual. A particular kind of mold stopped the bacteria from spreading. He studied the mold further and ultimately discovered the first antibiotic: penicillin.

    How would medicine have turned out differently if Fleming did not pay attention? He could have become angry and thrown the unsalvageable dishes straight into the trash.

    But he chose to look. His mistake turned out to be a game-changer.

  • Go Forward

    Florence Nightingale founded modern nursing. In the mid-1800s, she drastically improved hygiene standard and reduced the death rate in hospitals.

    But before that, Nightingale was torn by the idea of leaving her comfortable home for service. In fact, it took her almost 16 years to respond to what she later referred to as “the call.” Healthcare work was dangerous back then. Unsurprisingly, her wealthy family disapproved.

    While wrestling with her call, Nightingale once asked Gridley Howe, a physician:

    “Do you think it would be unsuitable and unbecoming for a young Englishwoman to devote herself to works of charity in hospitals?”

    Dr. Howe responded:

    “It would be unusual, and in England whatever is unusual is thought to be unsuitable. But I say to you “go forward,” if you have a vocation for that way of life, act up to your inspiration and you will find there is never anything unbecoming or unladylike in doing your duty for the good of others. Choose, go on with it, wherever it may lead you.”

    ​

  • Karate Lessons

    When I was a kid, I practiced karate for a few years. I focused on kata, basically a choreography of martial arts movements. Like most Japanese art forms, precision, control, and accuracy are key to a great kata performance.

    One year I participated in a kata competition. My body was tense that day. The moves were not smooth. I lost balance on one of the turns. The punches and kicks lacked measured strength.

    I came in second. I was devastated.

    “If you are number one, you may not have won. But if you are number two, you have for sure lost.” I said, in tears, as my mom came to comfort me.

    My mom then kindly said, “Isn’t it good to lose sometimes? Others get to feel happy. And you get to learn what you need to work on next time.”

  • Did He Waste 27 Years?

    Before Nelson Mandela helped end apartheid and became the first democratically elected in South Africa, he was sentenced to life imprisonment for his political involvement.

    His bed in prison was a straw mat. The prison guard physically and verbally harassed him. As a prisoner, he was required to do hard labor and break rocks into gravel in a quarry. The prison denied his request for sunglasses, which caused permanent damage to his eyesight.

    At any point during his 27 years in prison, he could conclude he failed. After all, his physical freedom was constrained. His 8-foot-by-7-foot cell could be home for the rest of his life.

    However, he chose a constructive path. He studied for a law degree (even though the warden revoked his study privilege multiple times). He used his legal knowledge to prepare for his trial and supported other prisoners. He wrote long essays that have since inspired many.

    Archbishop Desmond Tutu once insightfully commented on the time Mandela served in prison:

    Many would say, Twenty-seven years, oh, what a waste.

    And I think people are surprised when I say no, the twenty-seven years were necessary.

    They were necessary to remove the dross. The suffering in prison helped him to become more magnanimous, willing to listen to the other side.

    Without the twenty-seven years, I don’t think we would have seen the Nelson Mandela with the compassion, the magnanimity, the capacity to put himself in the shoes of the other.”

    Mandela’s story reveals a different way of thinking about hope. Unlike the “everything will be okay” type of hope we see in movies, this kind of open and participative hope is challenging, for it requires us to:

    • Acknowledge the persisting pain
    • Focus on the available options
    • Grow under unfavorable circumstances
    • Believe our choice has an effect
    • Remain curious about what will happen

    The question for us: Is this difficult kind of hope worth it?

  • What They Didn’t See in This Problem Child

    When Gillian was eight, she struggled with school. Her classmates found her noisy and disturbing. Homework was never on time. The teacher told her parents she had a learning disorder.

    The school was concerned. They sent her to a specialist to assess whether she should attend a special school instead.

    At the doctor’s office, Gillian grew restless and started to fidget. Twenty minutes into the session, the doctor told Gillian, “I need to speak to your mother privately. Wait here. We’ll be back.”

    The doctor turned on the radio on his way out. He whispered to Gillian’s mother, “Just stand and watch her.”

    Something unexpected happened the minute they left the room. Gillian was on her feet. She moved to the radio music with natural grace. Her face beamed with joy.

    After watching for a few minutes, the doctor turned to her mother and said, “Mrs. Lynne, Gillian isn’t sick. She’s a dancer. Take her to a dance school.”

    Her mother hesitated at first but gave it a try.

    The dance school in London became Gillian’s new home. She discovered a community: people like her who couldn’t sit still and used movement to think.

    She started with classical ballet and then moved on to jazz, tap, and ballroom. The young lady learned it all, practiced every day, and flourished.

    At sixteen, she joined one of the foremost ballet companies in Great Britain. Her talent quickly caught the city’s attention. Before she knew it, she was performing Swan Lake and Sleeping Beauty all over the world.

    After about a decade, her ballerina career slowly came to an end. Part of it was age, but mainly because she discovered a keen interest in choreography.

    She started her own dancing company, even though the field was male-dominated. Female ballet choreographers were rare at the time. Despite her accomplishment as a dancer, many did not receive Gillian’s transition with a warm welcome.

    It didn’t bother Gillian. She loved the art and was too busy breaking new ground. She innovated, took risks, and pushed boundaries.

    The challenging sequences she created departed from traditional balletic movements. Her work delighted the audience and impressed respected composers like Andrew Lloyd Webber. Invitations to collaborate on large projects began to go her way.

    Another decade later, she became responsible for some of the most successful musical theater productions in history on Broadway and beyond.

    Her name is Gillian Lynne. Heard of Phantom of the Opera and Cats? She was the musical stager and choreographer behind it. She came a long way from being the problem child.

    “I believe that every child is born with unique talents and gifts, and it’s up to us to help them find those talents and develop them.”  Gillian Lynne

  • From Firewood Sales to Presidency

    In between his mediocre military career and his presidency, Ulysses S. Grant went through a period of setbacks and financial difficulty.

    To support his family at one point, he had to sell firewood—hardly a glamorous venture for a West Point graduate. His ex-army colleague was shocked, and said, “Great god, Grant, what are you doing?”

    Grant replied, “I’m solving the problem of poverty.”

    No shame in doing whatever it takes to get through a difficult patch in life*.

    Reference: Grant by Jean Edward Smith

  • When Winning Isn’t Winning

    Pyrrhus of Epirus was an ambitious Greek king and a strong opponent against early Rome. In the Battle of Asculum in 279 BC, he triumphed against the Romans but destroyed most of his own forces.

    In Pyrrhus’s own words, it was “a victory that is not worth winning because so much is lost to achieve it…If we are victorious in one more battle with the Romans, we shall be utterly ruined.”

    This is now called a pyrrhic victory, where the deep losses outweigh the gain. Winning a battle, but losing the war.

  • Two Mini Stories on Learning

    Story 1

    In secondary school, I sat in a Chinese history and literature class for five years. I recited poems, dictated answers, and memorized emperors’ names.

    15 years later: I have forgotten 98% of my studies. What’s left of it has little bearing on my life today.

    Story 2

    In my last year of secondary school, I spent three months preparing for a speech contest. I wrote a speech and practiced it many times. My coach (thanks, Stan!) took me to rehearse in a busy public plaza. It was awkward, but I did it.

    15 years later: I am still using what I learned about writing, speaking, and handling pressure from that experience.

    Lesson 1

    Time spent on an effort is not created equal. Active learning that involves creativity, craftsmanship, and discomfort is far more valuable in the long term. This type of learning does not only inform. It transforms.

    Lesson 2

    Were those five years of Chinese classes a waste of time? Not entirely, either. Without it, I couldn’t have written this idea.

  • Creativity without Fear: The Pixar Way

    Pixar has produced two dozen films since the animation studio was founded in 1986. Almost all of its movies—such as Toy Story, Inside Out, and Incredibles—became instant blockbusters.

    While Pixar spends millions of hours[1] on each movie attending to every detail, perfectionism does not guide its creative process.

    On the contrary, every day Pixar shows unfinished work internally to the whole company to discourage a culture of perfectionism.

    This practice helps teams get over the embarrassment of sharing incomplete work. It liberates people to take risks, try new things, and inspire each other with constructive feedback.

    Creativity blossoms when we stop worrying about failure.

    ​

    [1] Pixar has “600 people working on a movie for 3-4 years.” If we assume 2,000 work hours per year x 600 people x 3 years, that’s ~3.6 million man-hours.

    In other words, it takes the equivalent of a single person working 24 hours non-stop for over 400 years to produce a Pixar movie. Yet another way to look at it: each minute on screen for a two-hour film takes ~30,000 hours behind the scene.

    This idea was originally inspired by a question: How can a company that spends so many resources on high-risk creative projects ensure perfection? The counterintuitive answer is: it doesn’t, at least not at the beginning.

    If interested, this article written by one of Pixar’s founding leaders is an excellent read.

  • Failure is Not the End

    While writing her first novel Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone, author J.K. Rowling went through a dark period in her life.

    At one point, she was jobless. Her short-lived marriage ended. She lived in a mouse-ridden apartment as a single parent on government assistance.

    She reflected on those difficult times:

    “Failure meant a stripping away of the inessential. I stopped pretending to myself that I was anything other than what I was, and began to direct all my energy into finishing the only work that mattered to me…

    Some failure in life is inevitable. It is impossible to live without failing at something, unless you live so cautiously that you might as well not have lived at all – in which case, you fail by default.”

    Source: The Fringe Benefits of Failure, and the Importance of Imagination

  • The Power of Saying No: Southwest Airlines’ Simple Strategy

    One curious thing about Southwest Airlines is what it doesn’t do.

    It doesn’t offer business class. It doesn’t offer food (unless you count the peanuts). It doesn’t go to Asia or Europe. It doesn’t use wide-body jets like 777s. It doesn’t do freight. It doesn’t join any airline partnerships. It doesn’t assign seats. It doesn’t sell tickets on third-party websites (nope, not on Expedia).

    If you look at this list, it’s hard to imagine that Southwest is one of the most-liked airlines in the US*.

    How can that be?

    By not offering food or freight, Southwest removes complexity. This means fewer delays and faster turnaround time.

    By not diversifying its fleet, all Southwest pilots can fly any plane since they are the same (all 737s). This means easier scheduling, one set of operating procedures, and fewer maintenance parts.

    By not going to too many faraway destinations, Southwest remains efficient. It increases the frequency of existing routes. Its staff is not spread too thin.

    In exchange, Southwest offers what most customers value: more flight time options, no change fees, and free checked bags. Above all, consistency. You get what you expect.

    And the secret is hidden in plain sight? Southwest has stuck to the same strategy since the 1980s. This strategy isn’t sexy, but it works.

    What should we commit to not doing over the long term? What are the vital few things we must say yes to?

    *According to this report, Southwest has the highest net promoter score (NPS) among the airlines in the US. NPS measures how likely customers recommend a company’s products to others.

    Another fascinating stat: Southwest’s fleet size  (740) was about half of United’s (1,400), yet Southwest carried ~20% more passengers (123 million) in 2021.

    Southwest’s business model also inspired other low-cost carriers worldwide, such as Ryanair and EasyJet in Europe, AirAsia in Asia, and Volaris in Mexico.

  • 4. From Devastation to Triumph: A Basketball Story of Perseverance

    Steve Nash is one of the best point guards in NBA history.

    Throughout his 18-season career as a player, he made more than 9 out of every ten free throws across 1,300-plus games. His three-point percentage was 42.8%*. Most impressively, he contributed more than 10,000 assists^.

    He attributed his success to preparation. “If every basketball player worked as hard as I did,” he said, “I’d be out of a job.”

    But one thing most people did not know was that Nash suffered from a degenerative spine condition called spondylolisthesis. It created tremendous pressure and pain in his back. One wrong twist could put him out of the game for weeks—possibly forever.

    This threat did not stop him. Nash followed a special regimen to train his core. He stretched daily. He re-learned how to run, jump, and pass to avoid injury. When he wasn’t in the game, he would lie on his back instead of sitting on a bench to reduce muscle stiffness.

    With his more petite body build, Nash also developed a style to minimize direct contact with the big guys. Instead, he created opportunities for his teammates. When no one was looking, he finished a play with a graceful finger roll.

    Nash did not blame the bad cards he was dealt with. Instead, he accepted the challenge. He focused on what he could control. He worked hard, he worked smart, and he worked around his limitations.

    Grit, fearlessness, and resourcefulness.

    That’s what made him a great player.​

    ​​*Only 14 NBA players have ever achieved 3-pt field goal pct above 42%. Two other notable ones are Steve Kerr (45.4%) and Stephen Curry (42.8%). Warriors fans would then ask, “What about Klay Thompson?” He’s at 41.7%.
    ​
    ^Nash ranked no.4 in career assists. Watch this video for his top 10 jaw-dropping passes. I have admired his game since I was a little kid!

  • Why Can’t A Musician Also Be A Plumber?

    Philip Glass is an influential composer and pianist. His operas, symphonies, and chamber music are highly regarded. Three of his film scores were nominated for the Oscars.

    While establishing his career, Glass supported himself by working as a plumber*. Once during a service visit in New York City in the 1970s, he came across Robert Hughes, an art critic for the Times magazine. Hughes recognized Glass and stared at him in shock and disbelief.

    Here’s how Glass recounted the exchange:

    ‘But you’re Philip Glass! What are you doing here?’

    ​It was obvious that I was installing his dishwasher and I told him I would soon be finished.​

    ‘But you are an artist,’ he protested.

    I explained that I was an artist but that I was sometimes a plumber as well and that he should go away and let me finish.

    Situations are never ideal. Sometimes we have to take an unglamorous approach to make life work. That’s not a problem at all.

    ​Source: When less means more​

    *He also worked as a taxi driver. “If you’re in New York City, you might hail a cab. There’s a good chance that the driver would be an actor or a performer. A lot of day jobs around New York are picked up by people in the arts.” he said in an interview.

    I have been looping his Glassworks (composed in 1981) all week. Another classical guitar cover of the same piece is just as beautiful.

  • Fix The Minor Issues Now

    The other day I knocked over my cup while working from home. Water spilled all over the desk, the wall, and the power strip on the floor.

    It was lunchtime, and my mind was occupied with heating my meal. Annoyed, I grabbed a towel, halfheartedly wiped down the areas that looked wet, and headed to the kitchen for lunch.

    I resumed working in the afternoon and forgot about the whole thing.

    When I returned to the desk the following day, there was a burning smell. My laptop charger was overheating. The router stopped working. The Internet was down. A few cables turned brown and black at the tip.

    Water had entered the power strip–how foolish was I not to wipe everything dry! A problem that could have been resolved in a few minutes became a big headache.

    Fix the minor issues now before they fester. If you wait, they will cost you way more down the road.

  • One Starfish At a Time

    One morning an old man walked along the beach. A big storm had just passed. As far as the eye could see, the shore was littered with starfish.

    From a distance, the man noticed something unusual. A woman picked up a starfish, threw it back into the sea, and repeated with the next one.

    He approached the woman.

    “Why are you throwing starfish into the ocean?” he asked.

    “When the sun gets high, unless I throw them into the water, they will die,” The woman replied.

    The man scanned the many miles of beach.

    “But there must be tens of thousands of starfish. Sending a few into the water can’t possibly make much of a difference,” the man said.

    The young woman knelt, picked up another starfish, and threw it into the ocean. She smiled and said, “It made a difference to that one.”

    We don’t have to be overwhelmed by the many problems of the world. We can start by acting on a small problem in front of us.