I recently posted a question to readers about what to do in an uncertain airport situation. This was the scenario:

You arrive very late at an airport you haven’t been to before. Security takes forever, but the flight is on time—which means you’re even more rushed.

You walk into the terminal and look for your gate: A70. Damn… you’re currently at A18. Above you is an “Express Train” that runs between A1 and A75 with an unknown number of intermediate stops.

You know if you take the escalator up to the train and catch a ride it could be faster—but remember, you’re unfamiliar with this airport.

Will you have to wait for the train to arrive? How much faster will it actually be? Might it be better to hoof it?

You can’t just stand there and think about it forever… remember, time is short. You have only ten minutes to get to A70 before they close the flight.

It’s up to you… what do you do?

I greatly enjoyed reading all the responses, which came in a range of perspectives. Readers were fairly divided on the answer. A majority said they would hoof it, but a significant minority said they would take the train. A few others had unconventional ideas that were fun to read.

I also tend to fall on the “choose the action you are in control of” side, and not just when I’m running late at the airport. Upon arriving in the downtown area of an unfamiliar city, I’m happy to walk for an hour with my bags… as long as I know where I’m going. When I’m lost, which happens often, I get incredibly frustrated with myself. In the case of the airport scenario, I hoofed it—and I made it to the gate just in time, sweaty but triumphant.

I don’t think this approach is always right, though.

Sometimes I notice similar situations where it would indeed be better to take the train, stop and figure out my surroundings, or whatever the equivalent decision is. For example, our internet went down at World Domination HQ (also known as my house) recently. I was frustrated and didn’t know what to do, but instead of trying to think it through, I used my iPhone as a connection for a while and then went outside to the nearby coffee shop for two hours.

Since I work online for much of the day, it was frustrating to lose the one thing that I absolutely need to function. Meanwhile, Jolie came home and spent five minutes figuring it out before it was working again. Ignoring the problem—my approach—was clearly not the best answer.

***

Showing up in Eritrea without a visa last week, I felt I was once again approaching the “walk or take the train” scenario, albeit with higher stakes. If something went wrong, I could be put in jail or thrown out of the country—which is exactly what happened in the end. But sitting on the tarmac before disembarking into uncertainty, I had a thought:

It’s not the outcome that matters. It’s the decision to act.

Most of us judge the outcome of a course of action, not the intent. Consider a guy who performs a dangerous stunt on a motorcycle. If it goes well, we think he’s brave, courageous, a badass. If he fails or is injured, we think he’s stupid, foolish, and deserves what he gets.

In the case of Eritrea, I wasn’t responsible for an outcome that was largely outside my control; I was only responsible for the decision to go. Perhaps it was a foolish decision, but I knew I had to take the chance.

By the way, thanks for the flood of input last week about whether the Eritrea adventure “counted” for my quest. Strong opinions were expressed from all sides, but it looks like a 3-to-1 majority voted in favor.

I also understand and appreciate those who disagreed with the majority. If I can get back to Eritrea at some point later, I will, but for now I’ve got to work on my 13 remaining countries.

As the plane touched down and we taxied to the remote stand where I’d hop on the shuttle bus and prepare to meet the officials, I asked myself: How am I feeling?

I had a lot of nervous energy, I really didn’t know what awaited me on the other side, and you know what? It felt good.

I resolved then that whatever happened, I was glad I had taken the risk. A few hours later as I was being marched back to the plane to Cairo with handlers who had confiscated my passport, I was exhausted and unsure how I’d find my way out of Egypt—but still glad I had made the trip.

It’s not the outcome; it’s the decision to act.

###

*Last reminder: tomorrow is the big day for WDS 2012! We expect to offer the final round of tickets to those on the waiting list at 9am PST / 12pm EST.

Image: Fayj

Many thanks to everyone who has been reading or supporting the launch of The Tower, my new manifesto. If you missed it on Tuesday, you can pick up your free copy in a range of formats.

I also want to thank my long-time friend and colleague Reese Spykerman, specialist in branding and magic, for her great work on the design. Reese truly raised her game on this one as we worked on telling a story through words and images.

I’m now writing from Dubai, en route to Nairobi and eventually Somaliland if all goes well. Over the next ten days, I’ll be in the region and visiting some hard-to-get-to countries.

***

The Tower is all about the subjects of urgency and legacy, written through the analogy of an iPad game I played on another trip to Africa several months ago. The goal is to encourage readers to think about crafting a life oriented around creative work that helps others.

Here’s a selection from the last portion:

There is a cemetery in my neighborhood that I often pass through while running. It’s been there for a long time, with gravestones marking the deaths of people who died as early as 1846. The cemetery is multicultural and interfaith, with inscriptions in many languages and numerous forms of honoring the dead.

As I run through this resting place and toward the waterfront that flows through the center of my city, I often think about these people, loved by others but unknown to me except through the epitaphs on their tombstones. Did they live the life they wanted? Their lives mattered regardless of the choices they made, but did they fulfill their potential? Did they die with any unresolved regrets?

Someone who died a hundred or more years ago may have lived a meaningful life, but the choices that were available to them were dramatically different than the ones available to us today. They couldn’t take one million photos, visit every country in the world, or talk to thousands of interlinked people from all walks of life through the online social web.

The same may be said about us in another 150 years, but that is not our concern. Whether the era that we live in is more special than others or not, a single fact remains: this is our time. This is our chance.

I wrote the manifesto, and this section in particular, because I believe it’s important to take advantage of the tremendous opportunities around us. That is the overall message I hope to communicate with AONC in general: life is short, so let’s pick up the pace and make our time count for something.

Next year I’ll be making some changes in how I publish this blog and the overall focus of related work. My goal is to continue getting more specific about how we can live intentionally and pursue a big dream, while serving others and crafting a legacy. (I’ll explain more about this during the forthcoming Annual Review.)

I’m grateful to have a platform with so many amazing people who read and contribute from around the world. You inspire me.

Oh, and if you haven’t read The Tower yet, check it out! It’s best read on an iPad or other tablet, but you can also read via simple PDF, Kindle, or just plain text.

You can also share your own ideas about legacy projects in the original comment thread.

Wishing you well from DXB-NBO,

###

Image: Mavis

Greetings, friends and readers.

I’m on the road as usual, and today I’m also excited to announce the release of a new manifesto, The Tower.

As with my two earlier works, A Brief Guide to World Domination and 279 Days to Overnight Success, this report is completely free, with nothing for sale and no email opt-in required.

***

You can download your own copy here –>

The Tower — Main Download Link (PDF)

Kindle Version | Version for Printing

Tech Notes: This document is best experienced on an iPad (click the PDF in Safari to open a version in iBooks) or other tablet device.

If viewing on a regular computer, you’ll need the latest free version of Adobe Reader. For Kindle support, see this page.

***

What It’s About and Who It’s For

This report is not about Frequent Flyer Miles or making money as a blogger, as much fun as those things can be. Instead, it’s about URGENCY and LEGACY—topics I’ve been thinking a lot about recently.

What if life were like a video game? How can we incorporate creative work and the desire to build something into our routine? What truly matters?

These are the questions I examine in the manifesto. Over the next few weeks, I’ll be traveling in Africa and then doing my Annual Review. Wherever you are in the world, I hope you’ll take some time to think about the next year and your own legacy project.

As always, thanks for reading.

Action #1: If you find the report interesting and valuable, would you please help in spreading it along?

You can post a link to this page or the whole PDF on your blog, through Facebook, or wherever you connect with interesting people.

Action #2: What does legacy mean to you… and what are you doing about it today?

Feel free to share your response to this question through the comments field.

###

Image: Thomas

I’ve been working on a new, non-profit writing project that I’ll share tomorrow. Here’s a preview of the concept—for more on the project itself, see the note at the end or check back tomorrow.

***

A specter is haunting the internet. Everywhere you go, you hear about how you should slow down. First it was slow food (a good thing). Then there was slow living (not so good) and the rejection of striving and effort (even worse).

The central part of this message is: “There’s plenty of time. Stop hurrying and take it easy. Bake cakes, play in the forest, do what you want.”

I’ve been thinking about this a lot over the past few months, and tomorrow’s project is an attempt to say something different.

The central part of the alternative message is: “HURRY UP. Life is short, so we should put our limited time to good use.”

Why so intense? Because we only get one chance.

Why the rush? Because we’ve got a lot to do and a short amount of time to do it.

***

A common scenario involves imagining that today was your last day on earth:

What would you do if this was it? You have only one day to live.

It’s a good question to think about, but not sufficient on its own. If today were your last day, you might tell someone you loved them. You might try to make amends with someone you had wronged. You might enjoy the time as much as possible, and you might indeed bake a cake.

All of these things are good, but you can do them anytime. No need to wait for the warning of a last day that you’ll never receive. Most of us don’t get the chance to know when our last day is, and even if we do, we’re not usually in a position to make real changes.

Besides, a single day is short-term by design, and you’ll never create anything with lasting value in the short-term. Sure, you can “live in the present”—but if you want to build something beautiful, you’d better be thinking about the future as well.

Instead of watching life as it passes you by, what if you actively worked on crafting a legacy composed of creative work that helps others?

What if there was a systematic method of “legacy work” that allowed you to build this enduring record step-by-step?

Yes, there might be plenty of time left. But what if there’s not?

There is an urgency to life, whether you want it or not. When you embrace the urgency instead of ignoring it, you can create something that changes the world. Oh, and you can do this in a fun way that makes the best use of your own talent and motivation.

In a world of take-it-easy, who needs a life oriented about effort and achievement?

Well, I certainly do. And perhaps you do too.

***

Tomorrow morning I’ll release a new manifesto, the first in more than two years. It’s all about living with urgency and how you can build something over time. If you find it worthy of attention, I’d be grateful for your help in spreading the word.

###

Image: Rutty

Greetings from my corner of the world in Portland, Oregon.

It’s Thanksgiving Day in the U.S., a time when the internet shuts down and we all eat pie. Everyone else, feel free to enjoy the internet to yourself and eat pie along with us.

Earlier this week I was in Cuba, my 174th country and final country in all of the Americas. I’ll have more to say about my adventure there next week, but in short, I had a fantastic visit.

I’m now home in 97214 and looking forward to a long run this morning, then a Thanksgiving lunch with Jolie. I try to live with gratitude every day, so I don’t have anything special to say on the fourth Thursday of November.

Otherwise, our only-once-a-year sale at UnconventionalGuides.com continues today and through Monday. Use discount code “CRANBERRY” to save 15% on all orders.

I’ll see you again after the weekend!

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Image: Sarah

An unexpected thing happened on the streets of Seoul, Korea.

I’ve been to Seoul several times, and don’t really feel anything special about it. It’s not a bad place in any way, and perhaps I’d like it more if I spent more time there. I just don’t think of Seoul in a special way, as I do with other Asian cities like Hong Kong, Singapore, and Bangkok.

That’s why the thing was so unexpected. All of a sudden while riding along in the interminable airport shuttle (the main airport is more than an hour from the city), I began to feel sad. I looked around and realized that even though I didn’t love Seoul itself, in the near future I would greatly miss this experience.

For more than ten years, I’ve been actively traveling in all parts of the world. For the past four years, travel has been a near-obsession. I’ve been in at least 20 countries every year, often more like thirty-five when you consider all the transits and stopovers.

There hasn’t been any time when I haven’t been planning at least one big trip. I’ve had multiple, ten-segment itineraries open at any given time. I’ve spent thousands of dollars in processing fees and FedEx charges sending my passports back and forth from D.C. and various embassies, often receiving them back the day of my departure before rushing out to the airport.

And on this trip, I realized for the very first time… that one day, before too long, it will be coming to an end.

168 countries down, only 25 to go.

I remember my visit to Sri Lanka, country #100, so clearly. I was jetlagged and made the mistake of taking a nap at 4pm. Waking up before midnight, I spent the rest of the night writing the original Working for Yourself guide and walking on the beach outside my hotel.

It feels so recent, but that visit was actually sixty-eight countries ago. Life has been flying by so quickly.

***

The quest to visit every country was always personal—I knew I’d do it even if no one cared or noticed. But when I started writing about big adventures (and YOU started reading), things changed a lot, mostly for the better.

At almost every book tour stop, meetup, or speaking gig over the past year, someone asked the question: “What will you do after you finish seeing the world?” Other people would nod, as if they were wondering too.

After a few false starts, I developed a good answer: “Well, I have no plans to stop traveling. I’d like to go back and revisit some of the places I especially liked.”

I also said that travel is only one part of what I do. I write books, start businesses, host the World Domination Summit and other events, and… a lot more. None of those things are coming to an end anytime soon.

These answers—I’ll keep traveling in some form, and I do more than just travel—are both true. But now I understand something that perhaps many of you already knew when you asked the question: the answers were true, but they weren’t sufficient. There is a real sense of loss as a big adventure comes to an end, and I should be prepared for it.

***

Assuming all goes well, the adventure is coming to an end over the next 16 months. There’s still a long way to go, but I can finally foresee a time when there won’t be any more stressing over visas and hopping off to random countries that I knew nothing about until a few years ago. I probably won’t sleep on many airport floors, and won’t likely maximize a 10-segment itinerary to get to as many stops as possible.

I don’t know what comes next, and the thought of coming to the end feels like a real loss.

An actor friend gave me a metaphor: when a show closes, the actors all experience a feeling of sadness and loss. This is usually true even if they didn’t especially love the show, or even if they’re all ready to move on to something else. You still have to say goodbye to an intense period of your life, and that’s always tough.

So now, after failing to grasp the problem, I suddenly get it. I felt like crying on that airport bus from Seoul, and it wasn’t because I wanted another day in Korea. It was that I’ve been working for something for so long, and now that it actually seems within reach, I don’t know what to do with myself.

Of course I’ll still travel and write after April 7, 2013. I’ll start more projects than I can finish and say yes to things I’m excited about. The best is yet to come. But I do understand… this is a problem I don’t yet know how to solve.

***

From Seoul I went down to Uzbekistan, a quirky little country in Central Asia. I’ve always been intimidated by the region before, mostly because I didn’t have the greatest experience in Russia. The lingua franca of the region is Russian, a language I know nothing of, and the administrative process in many “stan” countries resembles a Soviet Union that only exists in memory and excessive paperwork.

But this time, I began to see a key difference between a place like Uzbekistan and Russia itself. They are quite different, and I prefer Uzbekistan. I went for an hour-long run and returned back to a breakfast at my guesthouse with a large group of Indian travelers. Several of the people were quite loud and kept shouting to the waiters. “Hot milk! Bring us hot milk! Napkins! Omelette!” The waiters, who didn’t speak English, kept nodding and running back and forth to the kitchen. It was all quite hilarious and reminded me of why I travel.

I could have stayed longer. I would have enjoyed taking a tour to learn more about history and art. Of course, I had to move on after a brief stay, and that’s OK. No regrets. But when my taxi driver deposited me at the Tashkent airport, I motioned to him to stop outside the parking lot so I could walk in.

The driver, who told me had been taking English classes, phoned in to the dispatcher to find out how much the fare should be (another odd, bureaucratic system). He came back and quoted a figure that was a couple bucks more than I had been told to pay at the hotel. I explained what I had been told, and asked if I could pay the lower fare.

“Sir, I not lie you!” the driver told me. He seemed genuinely distressed about my concern, and genuinely honest. I gave him the higher fare, along with a small bit of extra cash that I wouldn’t be needing anywhere but Uzbekistan. Nice guy.

Then I took my time in walking to the terminal, stopping to watch the sunset and the crowded group of people waiting to greet arriving passengers. Another guy approached, offering another taxi but also just wanting to chat. We had a comical, one-sided conversation in English and Russian (guess which side I was) that ended with me flapping my arms to indicate I didn’t need another taxi because I was preparing to fly away. He smiled and waved me off.

Inside, I did the same thing… no rush, no hurry. Soak it all in, I told myself. Don’t forget this time and place. You’ll never be back, so hold on to whatever you can.

***

On the way home the following week, I got stuck and had to detour for an unexpected three-day stay in Sydney. I ran in the gardens, went on a walking tour, drank Australian pinot noir. It was beautiful and once again reminded me of all the things I loved about travel when I started.

Then I flew home via Melbourne and Los Angeles, and then it was over. Sure, I have five open trips planned—sorting out my visa for Eritrea is the problem of the moment—but all is on track.

Only 25 countries to go. And then what? Only time will tell.

###

Image: YST

Earlier this year I went to Austin to co-facilitate a discussion at SXSW with Jonathan Fields. Our topic was “Fear and the Art of Creation,” and we had a great crowd. Despite the challenging time slot of early Sunday morning, tons of people showed up and filled the room.

I said a few things in an attempt to sound mildly intelligent (my secret: always be the opening act and get off stage quickly), and then Jonathan said some much more intelligent things. The image from this post includes a few of the stories we shared with the audience over the course of an hour (hat tip to Ogilvy Notes for the fun illustration).

At some point we dragged Kate Northrup up to the front, who also said some intelligent things—the car in the upper-right corner of the illustration came from where she talked about how she expected to marry a lobsterman in Maine, but ended up on a cross-country road-trip of undetermined length instead. (I guess you had to be there.)

This conversation was also an early preview of Jonathan’s new book, which officially launches next week. The book’s theme is all about turning fear into fuel for brilliance, redefining risk, and embracing (not just overcoming) uncertainty. I wish I had written this book myself, but because I didn’t, I’ll just have to buy lots of copies of this one.

Here’s a clip of Jonathan speaking at WDS 2011 for a more extended preview of his work:

***

After knowing Jonathan for three years, I’ve now spent time with him in Portland, New York, Austin (twice), Chicago, and Pittsburgh—where we spoke at the same TedX event at Carnegie Mellon two years ago. I asked him to be the final WDS keynote speaker because I knew he would do a great job at sending our attendees out to properly take over the world. (Similarly, I asked our mutual friend Pam Slim to be the opening speaker because I knew she would set the tone well.)

These days I get at least one review copy of a new book in the mail every day, and I’m only able to write about ones that I think are especially important or timely (I give the others away to the local library or used bookstore). Rest assured: this one fits the bill! It deserves broad readership.

If you’d like to check out the Uncertainty book, one tip: now is the time to do so. A lot of what happens with the life of published book depends on what happens the week of the launch, which is why I want to help give this one a push now.

You can buy it on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Chapters, or support your local bookstore. I have already pre-ordered several copies myself, as I know this is a needed resource at a critical time. If you read and appreciate it, help him out further by leaving a customer review or telling your friends about it.

***

Travel note: I’m in Tashkent, Uzbekistan today… all’s well, but I won’t be around for emails or blog comments. We’ll pick those things up again next week!

###

It’s a fairly self-explanatory question: what’s coming up in the near or faraway future that you’re excited about?

I’ll start. In the short-term, I’m looking forward to getting home from another long trip. It’s been fun, beautiful, thrilling, and exhausting. I live on the edges and sometimes they catch up to me. But that’s OK, because I’ll be happy to do it again soon.

In the medium-term, I’m looking forward to completing everything for my book manuscript. I recently wrapped up draft #3 and sent it to my friendly editor in New York. Now I’ll do another draft and some line-edits before wrapping up and moving to the next phase. I’m extremely excited about planning the launch, another book tour, and everything associated with it.

In the long-term, I’m looking forward to continued learning. I feel like I have grown and learned a lot recently, but there’s so much I still want to learn and experience. I believe there is a connection between living and learning: if we fail to learn, we aren’t truly living. Therefore, I want to keep learning and challenging myself whenever possible.

How about you—what are you looking forward to?

###

Image: Book Person

When you begin to share your important work with the world, a funny thing happens: some of the people closest to you don’t understand it.

They damn you with faint praise, or they point out something trivial that could be improved. Sometimes they never say anything at all, which of course is the worst thing.

When the time comes to show off your great project, you’re all, “Hey! Check out this thing that I did!”

And they’re all, “Oh. That’s nice.”

Nice?

You feel crushed because you desperately wanted their approval, even though you knew this was probably an unhealthy desire. (Just because you know something to be true doesn’t mean you always abide by it.)

You wanted—and expected—them to say, “This is great! I always knew you could do this. How can I help make it better? How can we tell the world about it?”

But no, you don’t get that at all. You just get the the faint praise, the brush-off, the indifference.

Then you realize… maybe this thing just wasn’t that important to them. Or maybe you didn’t know them as well as you thought you did. How sad.

But then! Another interesting thing happens.

All kinds of other people suddenly appear. Your fan club. Your support crew. A small army of remarkable people.

These people are all, “WOW. THANK YOU FOR DOING THIS. Here’s how my life is different because of the risk you took and the courage you displayed.”

You feel surprised. Refreshed. Energized. And most of all, you feel responsible to keep going, because you see it was good that you went ahead with your project even if you weren’t universally loved.

Some of the people you expect to be your biggest supporters will disappoint you—and some of the people you rarely thought about, or didn’t even know existed, will turn out to be your true friends.

This is how it works when you begin to share yourself with the world.

It’s a funny thing.

###

Image: Jeff

A lot of people mentioned that they liked the “hell yeah” test for making decisions mentioned here and condensed as follows:

We all have to make decisions about opportunities. When you think about any opportunity, if it’s not a “hell yeah,” don’t do it.

I’ve modified this a bit in my own life to be: if it’s a “hell yeah,” why not do it?

I thought I’d ask… what have you said “hell yeah” to? But first, here are a few stories from our community…

The 10 Mile Prison Swim — Last weekend, Sarah Peck and her friend Kim swam 10 miles from Prison to Prison (P2P) as the first two women to cross the San Francisco Bay from San Quentin state prison to Alcatraz. The distance is six times longer than the Escape from Alcatraz swim, which I always thought of as hardcore until I heard what Sarah and Kim did. Hell yeah!

The Plummet at the Summit — Earlier this year, Joel had an idea to go skydiving while visiting Portland in June. But then he decided to ask if anyone else wanted to come… and 40 people signed up! At the time, Joel didn’t even know if he could actually take that many people with him, how they would all arrange transport, and so on. But as things usually do, it all turned into an excellent adventure. Hell yeah!

The Impromptu Irish Adventure — While in Galway, Ireland, Jeff decided to join a friend on a spur-of-the-moment ancestry hunt. What happened next involved hitchhiking, actual hiking… and a “mission accomplished” hell yeah at the end of the day. Read more at the link.

Oh, and here’s Amber’s flow-chart for making decisions. Hell yeah!

***

By the way, the “hell yeah” test originally comes from Derek Sivers. I met Derek on a recent stopover in Singapore, where he kindly made green tea for me at his house before heading off to a gig. You can check out his brand-new book from the Domino Project here.

I asked Derek for a recent “hell yeah” story, and here’s what he told me:

Three years ago, I dreamed of going to TED. I applied, was rejected the first time, applied again a year later, and got in. Hell yeah!

After attending two TEDs, I dreamed of speaking at one. I applied, and was accepted for a smaller one (in India), but I spoke at TED! Hell yeah!

Then I dreamed of speaking at the big one. I applied and got got accepted, then did a talk that got a standing ovation, got 1000 tweets, and a lot of great reputation. Hell yeah!

But hmmm…. what next? I got invited to speak at at TED in Taipei Taiwan. Could be interesting…. But how to make it a “Hell yeah!” kind of thing? Hmmm….

Then I got an idea. That TED is almost a year away. What if I were to do the talk in Chinese?

I don’t know Chinese, but I really want to learn. I’ve been studying casually…. maybe I could ramp it up with this as a huge goal. An 18-minute TED talk in Chinese by next year? Now that’s a “HELL YEAH!” Just thinking about it makes my heart race in fear.

Congratulations to Sarah, Joel, and Jeff on their big adventures. Thanks to Amber for the fun flow chart, and good luck to Derek with learning Chinese.

So how about you… what can you say “hell yeah” to?

###

Image: Funk