It’s the middle of a 2018 autumn afternoon, and Chris just got back to his East Village apartment from an Orange Theory Fitness class in Astor Place.  He’s getting ready to meet up with some friends at Bleecker Street Bar for the Penn State game.  After the game, Chris expects that he will most likely close out the evening at “The Red Lion” for late night singalongs to Petty, Hootie, and Bruce.  

Sounds like a typical Saturday for a young professional bachelor in New York City, right? For some it may be.  But for Chris, these days doubled as critical training workshops in sales and prospecting.  The trial and error, the success stories, and the constant rejection provided more education than any Masters Level Course ever could.

Although I never experienced life as a young bachelor in the big city, Chris has kept me well informed of the principles that he learned amidst the bright lights and fuzzy nights while living at 12th and 1st.  So as I settle into my new sales role at Vanguard, I’ve begun to apply his lessons.  And believe it or not, they actually work.  You can apply these rules to networking, sales and relationship building.  So Godspeed everybody… you’re about to learn how to act more like Chris.  

The first sales lesson that I learned from Chris was the importance of knowing who you are, what you’re looking for, and how to play to your strengths.  Chris identified a specific segment of the female population within New York City that loved Orange Theory Fitness, College Football Saturdays, and 90s music singalongs.  It also happened to be the one sub-species left on the planet that was still somehow attracted to the air guitar.  He specialized in that market.  He was aware that he would strike out every time at a nightclub like “1 OAK,” and he claimed that he wasn’t enough of a stud to wait for 8s and 9s to swipe right on the dating apps.  So he continued to put himself in a casual atmosphere where he could talk or jam out with fun and normal people just like him, and just by doing that he had a differentiated value proposition.

So in your office, while most people are trying to be good at everything, there’s that one guy that’s great at their thing. Strive to be that guy. Play to your strengths.  

The second lesson I learned was to always be prospecting.  Chris could’ve attended a gym with a bunch of meat heads if he really wanted a great workout, but instead he got a membership to Orange Theory and Soul Cycle.  While other guys were busy getting jacked, Chris was prospecting.  Chris has watched every Penn State game since we graduated, but I doubt he can name more than 3 players on the current roster.  While other guys were busy debating whether McSorley had what it takes to get us to the College Football Playoff, Chris was prospecting.  Chris loves 90s soft rock not because of the music itself, but because of the demographic who sings along to it. While other guys were busy complaining about the music selection, Chris was prospecting. 

So in your office, while most people are checking their email or talking about “Game of Thrones,” there’s that one guy making calls.  Strive to be that guy.  Always be prospecting. 

The third lesson from Chris was to focus on the client.  Once he stopped worrying about what line he would say next, or what gimmick he would use to grab the girl’s attention, he did much better.  He learned that listening is smoother than talking.  He learned that being interested inherently makes you interesting.  He learned in order to win over a girl, he must win over and influence their entire buying network (friends).  He realized that it’s more valuable to learn her favorite happy hour spot than share his favorite happy hour spot.  Why?  Because when he follows up to ask her out, he’ll most likely meet her where she wants to go.  

So in your office, while most people are talking about what they want to sell, there’s that one guy that’s listening to what the customer wants to buy.  Strive to be that guy.  Focus on the client.

The fourth lesson I learned was quality results are driven by executing the game plan.  When the Penn State game is in the 4th quarter, or the band is playing “Africa” by Toto as the final song of the night, Chris must stay disciplined and properly close the initial interaction.  While a long Saturday like this can lead to a tendency to overstay your welcome, the law of diminishing returns often kicks in, and nothing good can come from sticking around.  He’s made the connection, collected contact information, generated aligned interests, and now it’s time to cut himself off and define next steps.  The following day, he will send a message thanking them for their time, adding something witty based on what they discussed the night before, and asking for a second meeting at a relevant venue for their mutual interests.  His game plan conveys confidence and command, and creates momentum in the buying cycle.

So in your office, while most people are just brainstorming ideas, there’s that one guy executing a game plan.  Strive to be that guy. Execute the game plan.

Finally, Chris taught me to just keep swinging.  Chris has been laughed at, roasted, and rejected more than any of our friends. Yes, some of it is self-inflicted…ok, most of it is self-inflicted. But a lot of it is driven by the guy’s relentless and shameless persistence to get back in the batter’s box and just keep swinging.  It’s the beauty of Orange Theory offering classes every day, Penn State playing a 13 game schedule, and 90s music never getting old.  There will be more opportunities tomorrow.  Each “No” means “Not yet” and is a step closer to “Yes.”  He can keep going back…rinse…repeat…refine…and swing again.  His relentless persistence is the one principle of prospecting that has driven his sustainable success more than any others.

So in your office, while most people prefer to complain from the side line, there’s that one guy getting his butt kicked in the arena. Strive to be that guy.  Dust yourself off and just keep swinging. 

As Chris now finds himself in a serious relationship, he has transitioned from Sales Executive to Relationship Manager.  The NYC Saturdays full of prospecting are behind him, but the principles and his classic air guitar will remain with him forever.  These principles have driven his success at Salesforce, and have led to the great friendships and relationships in his life today. 

He plays to his strengths and is always looking for new opportunities to add value to everyone’s experience.  We can always count on him to follow up and plan the next event, and when that event is done, he’ll keep swinging and plan another. 

So as I start my new role in sales, or you look to succeed in your own professional or social life, consider these principles.  I can’t believe I’m saying this, but we could all be a little more like Chris. 

On our second wedding anniversary, as I reflect on the two amazing years that we just had together, I think about our vows. Perhaps I think about these vows so often because they’re hanging on the wall outside of our bedroom. Maybe it’s because I’ve seen the wedding video (shared below) so many times. But most likely, it’s because we’ve delivered on these bold promises every day of our marriage.

Some things haven’t been easy. Life threw us change, responsibility, and a full calendar all at once. It’s been hard work figuring out how to navigate it all together. But there isn’t a better person in the world for me to do it all with. As a result of our navigation together and a little bit of luck, we have been blessed beyond measure.

This year, it’s been special to witness our friends and family as they get married and make their own vows to each other. My wish for them is that they too deliver on the promises they make on that big day.

So today, let’s enjoy the video, reflect on the vows, and continue to deliver on our promises. I love you Jordan Lee Janiec. Happy Anniversary!

Wedding video

I’m home alone watching a baby and a dog on a beautiful summer weekend. What should I do? It’s a good time for a walk.

Jordan and I just came home from a long day of work and we need to decompress. What should we do? It’s a good time for a walk.

I’m meeting with a colleague, and we need to step out of the office to talk through some important matters. What should we do? It’s a good time for a walk.

And it’s the middle of the week, and I’ve hit serious writer’s block. So what should I do? It’s a good time for a walk.

I don’t know the clinical science behind walking, but I’ve found that some of my greatest conversations, best thinking, deepest connections, and least stressful moments are experienced with the street at my feet and/or the stroller in my control.

And no, Steve, I am not at the point where I count walking as a legitimate workout.

And yes, Chris, I did bump the “Prospecting Part 2” reflection for another two weeks to write about walking.

But the truth is, as I walked with Charlie and Riley on Sunday evening, I thought about what to write this week for the reflection. I struggled to come up with anything, but at least the walk was relaxing and refreshing.

Then, feeling great, I thought about how great the walk was the day before on the Wissahickon Trail with Charlie and my friends’ Jim and Kristen Reid. I thought about the powerful walking meetings I would take with my teammates at work. I thought about the refreshing CFP study break walks that I would take leading up to the exam. I thought about the romantic beach walks with Jordan, the fun campus walks at Penn State, and the post pre-game bar walks with friends in Philly. I thought about the thousands of other walks in which important conversations, connections, memories, or ideas were created. And I thought, this feeling is worth writing about.

So if you have a stroller or a dog or some stress or someone you want to talk with or a thousand thoughts to sort through, it’s probably a good time for a walk. Give me a call if you want company.

P.S. Maybe Dad finally got his wish 18 years later: https://www.dailylocal.com/news/e-goshen-man-longs-for-trails/article_f3a3b295-30bb-591c-8d75-fe94ea618a58.html

“We’re not getting a cat.” 

That’s what I insisted 4 years ago, and I had an easy case to make. 

I was more of a dog guy.  I wasn’t keen on the idea of lint rolling every outfit before heading out the door to work.  I didn’t want our new furniture to become a scratching post or our new apartment to smell like kitty litter.  I wasn’t ready for our social schedule to be compromised.  I didn’t want a large percentage of our discretionary spending to go to cat food and vet bills.  I’d rather keep my ear buds and phone charger instead of letting them become chew toys. Our friends would probably stop coming over because they were all of a sudden “allergic to cats.” Most of all, I’d prefer to sleep through the night instead of getting a 4 a.m. daily ankle gnawing because the cat was bored or hungry.  My resistance to getting a cat seemed plenty logical to me.

So when Jordan came home with Stella and Luna on Memorial Day in 2015, I wasn’t thrilled.  Yet, somehow she convinced me to keep the kittens.  So I stood strong and said, “Fine…but uhhhh….you’re taking care of them.”  I figured if Jordan would be solely responsible for scooping the litter, buying the food and supplies, cleaning up after them, taking them to the vet, and getting coverage when we go away for the weekend, it wouldn’t be much sweat off of my back.

And let’s face it, we weren’t ready for a dog, so if she insisted on getting a pet, cats were the next best option.  Lint rollers are easy to use, our furniture wasn’t that expensive so who cares if it gets a little torn up by the cats, and we could always spray Febreeze and open windows to get rid of the kitty litter smell if we needed to.  That’s how we approached things in college anyway.

We were beginning to get some raises at work, so why not spend the extra money on cat food and vet bills.  Head phones were bound to go wireless soon anyway, so the cats basically did me a favor by chewing a hole in my old ones.  And hey, maybe my middle of the night wake up calls to feed the cats would help me get up and go to the gym early.  Looking at it this way, I decided to tolerate Stella and Luna and allow them to live under my roof if it made Jordan happy.

But four years later, I found myself sitting in the Veterinary emergency room at midnight on Sunday nervously awaiting Stella’s prognosis. 

Through the hustle and bustle of the weekend, she had been hiding in an upstairs closet without eating or drinking for almost 2 days. When we found her, she appeared very weak.  I took her downstairs to get her to eat something (which is never a problem for Fat Stell aka Fletcher Cox), and she got sick again.  After realizing something was seriously wrong, I took her to the vet where I would spend the next few hours while Jordan stayed home with Charlie.

The vet detected severe dehydration, stomach pain, and a high fever, and recommended several tests and treatments that they needed to do.  I was asked to approve a few mortgage payments worth of Veterinarian care in order to take care of Stella.  While my heart may have palpitated at the first glimpse of the estimate, I didn’t hesitate to sign the paper.  We had to save the Stell Bell (I am now reconsidering pet insurance.) 

Alone in that waiting room, I learned and confirmed something about myself.  Perhaps, I should’ve realized it long ago when I became the one to scoop their litter and feed them at all hours of the day and night.  Or maybe I should’ve noticed it when I started coming home from a long day’s work and getting on all fours to snuggle them, or in the middle of the night when I realized they had stolen more than half of my pillow, or when my jaw would clench with love and affection, when I’d laugh at them barreling down the stairs the second I would go near their food bowl, or when we’d see them adorably cuddle up next to Charlie.  In that waiting room, thinking about all of the good times and all of the inconveniences, I confirmed that I’m proud to be a Cat Dad.

Luckily, after a few days, Stella was ok and they sent her home.  It seems like it was just an intestinal flare up that we’ll have to keep an eye on.  Now, Jordan and I spend our mornings before work and nights before bed holding her down like a cattle in a rodeo just trying to give her medicine.  But that’s ok, because that’s a role I’m willing to play in my life.  I’m a Cat Dad, and the first step is admitting it. 

 

Rusty,

The most important decision you’ll make in your life is who you marry. You made an excellent decision. So did Kelsi.

The best person you can hope to be is the one that people always want to be around. Yesterday was living proof that you and Kelsi are those people.

The top days of your life are the ones spent with the people from your past and present to celebrate your future. Yesterday was clearly one of those days.

The greatest life you can live is one of joy, generosity, dedication, and love. You and Kelsi bring out all of these things in each other.

I admire and look up to you guys. You both deserve the best, so naturally you found each other. I can’t wait to see the life that you build together. Yesterday was a fantastic start.

My only advice is to keep doing what you’re doing. Show up every day. Always laugh the way you do when you’re hammered. Stick little notes in Kelsi’s lunch box. With that game plan, you’ve got the world in your hands, brother. Yesterday was a special day, and I was grateful to be a part of it.

To a long and happy marriage,

Janiec

Prospecting is hard. Whether it takes place from the boardwalk in your teens, the bar in your twenties, or the desk in your career, the challenge and principles remain largely the same.

We’ve all at some point had to summon the courage and unexpectedly initiate a connection when rejection had a higher probability than acceptance. The relationships you’ve acquired throughout your life and career has to come from some type of prospecting. We’ve all felt the invigorating joy when it’s been successful, and all felt the uncomfortable cringe when it hasn’t gone well.

With that said, after working primarily with warm inbound leads throughout my career at Vanguard and being in a serious relationship throughout my twenties, I’ve had minimal cold prospecting reps over the past decade. I’ve rarely had to summon the courage it requires to approach the table of girls at the bar, or call a prospective client out of the blue. I’ve rarely had to practice my approach to build instant engagement and credibility. So when my new role at work required the courage and skill set to call financial advisors and quickly win their trust and a share of their portfolios, I needed to learn how to do it well…quickly.

So in order to take the butterflies out of my stomach, the chatter out of my head, the marbles out of my mouth, and the cringe out of the interaction, I turned to an expert whom has prospected day and night for the better half of a decade. My buddy Chris, a living legend at Salesforce.com and once the most eligible bachelor in Manhattan’s East Village (until a few months ago), hooked me up with some sound advice. In all of Chris’ years of prospecting experience, he’s learned from personal success stories, epic failures, and seeing he and his own friends crash and burn in between.

Overall, he’s found that the skill is really no different in sales than it is in social situations. Chris approached girls at Bowery 310 the same that he approaches small businesses in need of a better CRM solution. So when I asked him to help me out with the prospecting part of my role, he gave me five rules that everyone should follow.

Stay tuned. For the sake of time, (I have to do my Villanova homework and take care of my child), I will share how I learned his five rules of selling in Part 2. All I will say for now is that applying these rules has helped me get better with each call.

It takes a village to raise a child. So when Jordan left for a bachelorette weekend in Avalon, I held the fort down in the best way I knew how. Outsource.

Despite the B-team on duty, Charlotte got to live her best life for a few days with some of the best friends and family that we could ask for. She had a smile on her face from the moment she woke up until she passed out cold each night. And unless you have a beard, she’s happy to hang with you (let’s keep it that way).

So thank you Aunt Nona for spending Thirsty Thursday with your little Charlie girl when I had class at Villanova. I heard we had $2 Formula drinks and puréed peas and carrots on special.

Thank you Chesterbrook Academy for always being a fantastic source of entertainment and development for your “Baby Char-Char.” You’re almost worth every penny (and that’s a lot of pennies.)

Thank you Kyle for choosing this weekend to propose to and throw a surprise engagement party for Kelly. Congratulations, and it was great celebrating such a special moment with you guys, and it also supplied me with about 30 amazing baby sitters.

Thank you girls for being friends, baby sitters, and a future source of corruption for the bear. My arms appreciate you taking the 20 pound medicine ball off my hands, and Charlie appreciates all of the smiles and snuggles.

Thank you Luna for watching over Charlie as she goes to sleep, and being the first one to greet her in the morning. I guess cats aren’t all that bad after all.

Thank you Mom and Dad for coming back and hanging with me and your granddaughter despite the jet lag. Best neighbors a son could have!

While all of the moments from a weekend of Charlie with her friends were fun and cute, nothing was better than her reaction when her mom came walking back through the door.

So cheers to me successfully holding the fort down. Cheers to moms still being able to go out and have their own fun sometimes. And cheers to our village, a special place to raise a child.

“Today’s a training day, Officer Hoyt. I’ll Show you around, give you a taste of the business… But I ain’t holding no hands, okay? I ain’t baby-sitting. You got today and today only to show me who and what you’re made of…You stick around with me, you’ll make it. Unlearn that [stuff] they teach you at the Academy. That will get you killed out here…You gotta see the streets. You gotta feel it. You gotta smell it, you gotta taste the streets.”

Those are the words of wisdom veteran Detective, Alonzo Harris (Denzel Washington), shares with his rookie officer, Jake Hoyt (Ethan Hawke), during Jake’s first ride along in the movie, Training Day.

As I flew out to St. Louis for my first territory visit with my field sales executive, Roz, to meet with advisors across the Midwest, I naturally wondered if it would be a Training Day experience. To be fair, the structure and purpose of my trip was nearly identical to Jake’s. Before I would call on these advisors and try to set Roz up for success in the field, I needed to go along to her meetings to “see and feel the streets” and “get a taste of the business” as Alonzo would say. I assume Jake and I felt the same opening day butterflies. I assume that we went into training for our first “big boy” job with the same wide eyed optimism and engagement that only rookies really feel. And I assume Jake and I were both eager to learn from an experienced and highly skilled veteran.

But to my surprise, it was nothing like the movie. It was quite the opposite. Nobody got shot or beat up. In fact, the Marriott allowed for a safe and comfortable stay. Nobody was deceived to achieve a hidden agenda. In fact, we developed trusting and transparent relationships with clients that share the highest ethical standards. Nobody operated recklessly. In fact, both Roz and the advisors demonstrated sound, fundamental processes that delivered strong and consistent outcomes through a reliable client experience. The rookie wasn’t framed or set up for failure. In fact, I felt supported, developed, and inspired.

Unlike the movie, I had the privilege to observe and engage with several successful fiduciary advisors that are relentless about doing what’s best and what’s right for their clients. At the same time, I witnessed Roz’s relentless efforts to do what’s best and what’s right for the advisors themselves. It was not a game of “wolf and sheep” that Alonzo describes in the film, but rather the building of mutually beneficial relationships and strategic partnerships. The common purpose and trust led to powerful conversations and meaningful actions towards shared success.

Unlike the movie, it did not feel like a wild scramble of reckless tactics, but rather a strategic collection of little fundamentals that added up to bigger wins. Appointments were set and honored, objectives and agendas were clear and transparent, the right questions were asked and appreciated, important points were positioned and addressed at the right time in the right way, the notes were thorough and useful, and the follow up was timely and valuable. There was a natural and effective mix of intentionality, proactivity, and flexibility.

Unlike the movie, I was not set up to fail, but rather teed up to succeed. I was sufficiently prepped, thoughtfully introduced, consistently coached, and confidently given the “swing sign” to interject when appropriate.

Finally, unlike the movie, while Jake went home that day doubting his partner, his career choice, and even himself, I’m on my way home (even after an inconvenient flight cancellation) more confident in all three of those things.

While my training day wasn’t as riveting as the one in the movie, and our Jeep rental car wasn’t as cool as Denzel’s low riding Monte Carlo, and we didn’t run into Snoop Dogg or Eva Mendes, and we were fueled by waters and coffees instead of hard narcotics, and there weren’t any memorable quotes or Academy Award winning monologues, it was exactly what a training day should be.

I learned the craft, met fascinating clients, gained perspective of the industry, understood how my role fits into our broader vision, got to know my partner, and got a better sense of life on the road.

No quote sums up my overall territory visit better than what Jake says to Alonzo the night before his training, “That’s exactly why I signed up, and I just want to thank you.”

So thank you for a great training day. I’m glad I signed up.

I don’t know if it was the spirit of 4th of July weekend, or all of the Bruce Springstein and Zac Brown music, or the consistent chorus of U-S-A chants, or Charlie’s first beach trip, or the Women’s World Cup Victory, but it felt like a great weekend to be an American.

During the other 51 weeks out of the year, we may be critical about the problems our nation faces. But for this weekend, I was too grateful to be hateful. Because when you bring friends and family together with RED cups, WHITE sand, AND BLUE water, it really doesn’t get any better.

So on Saturday night, as I bounced Charlie around in the Baby Bjorn at happy hour, and the crowd belted out the country song “Chicken Fried,” I could see my American Dream playing out in front of me. With Zac Brown’s patriotic lyrics sharing all of the simple things in his life that he’s most grateful for, it made me think about what I would celebrate and recognize in my own personal version of “Chicken Fried.” I didn’t have to think long about it. I had been experiencing these things all weekend.

I thought about how excited Jordan was to present Charlie and I with matching 4th of July outfits. And I thought about the Sandlot-esque Independence Day Block Party with the Bonders and their friends in Haddonfield, NJ. And I thought about the rest of the weekend, when Charlie rocked a beaming, toothless smile in her red, white, and blue striped bathing suit when she touched the sand and salt water for the first time (which was followed by her first Jersey Shore meltdown when a little tiny wave rolled in.) And I thought about my first demonstration of “dad strength” when I carried the family’s umbrella, bags, towels, chairs, and toys from the Buckley’s Margate house to the beach. And the peace of sipping on a Spiked Seltzer or a Corona in the warm, summer sunshine as Charlie joyfully splashed around in the nearby shaded baby pool. And the competitive game of spike ball with my buddies followed by a postgame cool down in the refreshing waves. And where the only worry in my world was whether I missed a spot with the always elusive sunblock spray. And I thought about going back to the house where we shared more laughs, sang more songs, played more games, drank more beers and ate more food as everyone showered and got ready for the night to have more laughs, sing more songs, drink more beers, and eat more food. And I thought about the meals in which burgers and hot dogs are so good off the grill that they don’t need ketchup or mustard. And how we have these magical things called Baby Bjorns that allow me to be a family man without missing out on a good time with friends. And I thought about the luck of having a baby that can sleep through thunderstorms and fireworks. And I thought about the ease of waking up the next morning, recapping the weekend over a cup of coffee, driving home, and watching an amazing and inspiring group of women win the World Cup. And finally, I thought about one last long walk through the neighborhood with Jordan and Charlie to reminisce what just happened before getting ready to go back to work on Monday.

That is my Chicken Fried. That is what makes me so grateful for all of the people that sacrificed and continue to sacrifice to create a place where we can be lucky enough to have an experience like this. That memory right there is what makes me proud and lucky to be an American.

What’s your “Chicken Fried?” I hope you had a taste of it this past weekend.

A few weeks ago, I saw Stew Friedman speak for the second time.

When I initially saw Friedman’s Work/Life Integration keynote at the 2017 Vanguard Leadership Symposium, I was a new leader, a new husband, and about to be a new homeowner. When I saw his keynote three weeks ago at the 2019 Vanguard National Sales Conference, I was a new internal sales consultant and a new dad.

A lot of change has happened since I last saw the Wharton professor speak. A lot of change is happening right now. A lot of change will continue to happen in the future. Life’s treadmill keeps on going and seems to increase the speed and incline at each interval. The treadmill belts keep running at home, at work, in our social community, and even in keeping up with personal health And wellness. If I try to simply balance all of the competing priorities, I’m essentially attempting to hop from moving treadmill to moving treadmill without stumbling.

Friedman argues that you can’t only balance these domains, but you must instead find a way to integrate them. This message came at a near perfect time…both times.

He led the audience through an exercise in which we took 100% of a pie chart, and divided it up across four domains based on their personal importance to us. The domains were:

1. Home (family, house)

2. Social/community (friends, community events/impact, network)

3. Career (current job, future development, additional education)

4. Self (health, enjoyment, personal time, hobbies, relaxation)

Once we allocated the percentages based on importance, he had us redistribute our percentages based on how we actually allocate our time/energy.

Many of us realized that we aren’t spending optimal energy on the things that we say matter most to us. For example, if we claim our home life is significantly more important to us than our career, why do we spend so much of our time at home stressing about our work week or the homework assignment for our masters program?

In some cases, we may underestimate how important certain domains actually are to our happiness. In some cases, we just struggle to effectively manage our energy, priorities, and expectations. But in most of these cases, we’re trying to balance all of the domains instead of creatively integrating them.

Friedman challenges us to find or implement experiments (4-way wins) in our lives that will integrate multiple domains at the same time.

After the first time going through these exercises two years ago, my 4-way win experiment led to the weekly reflection as it stands today. I hadn’t written anything in years, and Jordan was encouraging me to get past the writers block and get back into it. It was refreshing to take the time and reflect on the new life experiences I was facing at home. It was helpful to document what I was learning and new experiences I was having as a leader. I wanted to capture important memories with friends. Each week as I think about what to write, go through the writing process, and share the post with others, I feel more connected to my home, my social community, my career, and myself.

As I went through the exercises this most recent time, I came up with a new integrated experiment. I thought of the fact that a 10 year hiatus from the tennis court is long enough. I realize it can be a game to bond with Jordan and eventually teach Charlie. I imagine the fun future tennis events we could host with friends, family, and coworkers. Getting back onto the tennis court is my new 4-way win.

Now it’s your turn to go through the exercises. How would you allocate your “pie chart” of what’s most important to you? How do you actually spend your energy? How might you integrate all 4 domains? How might that change your life?