Welcome back to Is This It? 

Thank you to everyone who’s had a chance to open, read, and share my first few editions! I’ve appreciated hearing from those of you who my essays have spoken to. Let’s get into this week!

Inches & Fractions: how the little choices we've made so far have quietly shaped our story, and why those tiny steps still hold the power to change what's next.

We spend so much time waiting for the big moments - the promotions, the breakthroughs, the clear signs - that we forget our lives are actually built in inches. In fractions. In the space between thinking about something and finally writing it down. In the decision to answer honestly instead of diplomatically.

The Shortcut We Keep Avoiding

"Honesty is a shortcut to getting what you want."

I came across this again in my quote book and it hit different this time. Like, of course. Why have I been taking the long way around? How many inches have I lost over the years by softening the truth? By crafting diplomatic answers to professional questions, cushioning my needs in corporate-speak, apologizing for my ambitions before I’ve even voiced them?

This past week, during yet another networking conversation, I received yet another well-meaning suggestion to "really think about what you want." I've done this exercise in my head a hundred times. But this time, something shifted by a fraction - I actually picked up a pen (proverbially speaking).

The difference was honesty. Raw, unfiltered, unapologetic honesty.

I wrote down what I want - not what I think I should want, not what sounds reasonable or realistic, but what I actually want. Personally. Professionally. I found clarity in this. I also found confusion. For the first time, I wrote down what I need in my next chapter to feel happy. No hedging. No "it would be nice if…" or "ideally…" Just declarations. Just me, finally choosing to be selfish about what I deserve.

Two Levels of Thinking

The exercise itself was simple:

  1. Big picture: Do I want the same life with different scenery? The same rhythm but a different tune? Or something radically different altogether?

  2. Details: What actually makes me excited to wake up? What's genuinely important to me when no one's watching? What parts of myself translate anywhere, but might need some storytelling to explain?

Simple questions. But this time, with honest answers, they felt revolutionary.

When No Means Go

Which led me to another quote:

"Rejection is redirection."

Being honest about what you want also means being honest about what hasn’t worked -the rejections, the missed opportunities, the closed doors. What if those weren’t failures, but fractions of course correction? Inches pushing you somewhere you couldn’t see yet?

Every choice in the past 15+ years: the yes that came from fear, the no that came from pride, the stranger who changed everything, the risk I didn't take or the one I did… all shifted my path by just a fraction of a degree. Over time, those fractions add up to miles. Sitting with my honest list in front of me, I realized I'd been asking the wrong question all along. Not "Is this it?" but "What if this isn't it?" Because that second question -  that's the one that hands you the pen.

The Science of Small Effort

Turns out, there’s actual science behind these tiny shifts. Dr. Gail Matthews studied 267 people and found that simply writing down your goals makes you 42% more likely to achieve them. Share those goals with someone, and your success rate jumps to 76% (insert me, right now, sharing my life revelations with all of you. Leading by example? Oversharing? You decide.)

We’re literally talking about the fraction of effort it takes to move a pen across paper (or in my case, fingers across a keyboard). Years of keeping these thoughts locked in my head versus one afternoon of honest writing. That’s the inch between a 35% (the success rate when you only think about your goals) chance and a 76% chance of getting the life you want.

Destination Without the Journey

Maybe honesty feels risky because it requires vulnerability:  admitting what’s not working, naming dreams that might sound too big, needs that might seem too demanding, desires that might feel too audacious.

But honesty also requires realistic expectations.

Lately I've noticed this gap between wanting what we deserve and being honest about what it takes to deserve it. We all want the destination without the journey. The wisdom without the mistakes. The credibility without the uncomfortable years of building it. Everyone wants flexibility, balance, respect from day one - and they should. But some inches can't be skipped. They're earned through showing up when you don't want to, learning from people you don't like, and accepting that experience, as unglamorous as it sounds, is still worth something.

The inches and fractions work both ways. Yes, be honest about what you want. But also be honest about the incremental work it takes to earn it.

Measuring the Distance

But here's what I'm learning about inches and fractions: the distance between where you are and where you want to be isn't measured in miles. It's measured in the inch of courage it takes to be honest. The fraction of effort between thinking and writing. The small space between apologizing for what you want and simply stating it.

I don’t have all the answers. But for the first time in months, I feel optimistic - not because I’ve landed somewhere new, but because I finally asked myself the real questions. And I’m answering them. Honestly.

These inches matter. These fractions add up.

Your Turn

If you enjoy where this is headed, don't just sit there - subscribe! Forward it to your friends, family, frenemies, etc. (Remember: sharing goals increases success rates by 76%. Just saying.)

Drop a comment with your own inches and fractions - those tiny decisions that shifted everything, or the honest truths you're finally ready to write down. What's the one-degree change you're making today?

Share your stories, your shifts, or those little life surprises that keep things interesting. Let's make Is This It? a Friday stop on your way to whatever's next.

Until next Friday,
Chris

Next week: “Homework” - What a week in my hometown taught me about the work that's still ahead. Also, we need to talk about my relationship status with ChatGPT (and Claude, and... yeah, it's a whole thing).

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