Wow, I would not have thought to do that

I think the hardest part about taking an uncommon or unpopular path is not becoming obnoxious about it.

Because certain creative decisions can quickly morph you into a judgmental, pretentious, condescending blowhard. Your ego struggles not to ascend to its soapbox and declare the virtues of your lifestyle.

After all, how many sanctimonious monologues can one man really give about the benefits of only consuming rainwater and handpicked berries?

The good news is, there’s a little phrase I use to helps me in this regard. Anytime I see people making choices or solving problems in ways contrary to my own, I say this.

“Wow, I would not have thought to do that.“

It feels satisfying to say these words, especially out loud, while looking someone in the eye. Because it matters that we acknowledge the uniqueness each person offers.

That’s what we all want for ourselves. It’s also important to err on the side of openness.

Because what do we know? Maybe there’s a better way. I enjoy saying it because it also invites sharing. I want the other person to offer information about their decision, because that leads to a richer conversation.

Finally, there’s humility. The emotional confection we seem to have a shortage of in the human supply chain. It’s just so hard for people to admit there might be something outside of their own knowledge or experience.

Anytime anyone does anyone I would not have thought to do, I note it down mentally. Sometimes physically. Because it’s not only good practice, it’s also good data. This moment is joyful and exhilarating for my growth.

For example, one of the musicians in my songwriters club uses an artificial intelligence software program to write vocal melodies. Here’s how it works.

She types in her lyrics, adds the chords, and then the generator gives her original melody ideas for how to sing them, line by line. She then combines and edits all the melodies, makes them her own, and finishes the song.

I gasped when I first heard about this technology, because it’s not the way I like to write songs. The purist in me was deeply offended.

But then I tried out the software for fifteen minutes, and thought to myself, holy guacamole, this is cool. I would not have thought to do that.

Now, I am in no rush to outsource my songwriting process to our robot overloads. But it’s neat to know it’s there. Because what do I know?

Remember, if you’re in the minority due to prevailing social norms, that’s not a good thing or a bad thing. It’s just a thing.

What matters is, when you make choices that you didn’t realize were uncommon, growth is near.

What method of demonstrating commitment is completely foreign to you?