Richard St. John shares his views of the secrets of success in a little more than 3 minutes at the 2005 rendition of TED.

I really enjoyed Richard’s presentation, and highly recommend it to anyone. However, it could have been even better.

Garr Reynolds, whose post led me to this video, is spot-on with his take on what Richard could have done better:

The single biggest thing that would have improved his presentation is the use of a small remote so that he could keep his eyes on the audience and his hands and eyes off his PowerBook. The addition of a remote is a simple thing, yet it is the one change that makes a huge difference in one’s ability to free themselves from the PC and the podium and connect with the audience.

37signals founder Jason Fried nails it:

Inspiration is like picking up one of those blinky things in a video game that makes you invincible for awhile. You can do anything, go anywhere, and you don’t have to worry about it.
Those blinky things exist in real life too. It may be a picture, or some words, or a sound, or a idea, or a mistake, or a moment. Whatever it is, pick it up and run with it. Run with it like you stole it.
You can’t bottle up inspiration. You can’t put it in a ziplock, toss it in the freezer, and fish it out later. It’s instantly perishable if you don’t eat it while it’s fresh.
On Friday I was inspired by a few things. I swore off the weekend and dove into it. And I got about 2 weeks of work done in 24 hours. Inspiration is a time machine.
Inspiration is a magical thing, a productivity multiplier, a motivator. But it won’t wait for you. Inspiration is a now thing. If it grabs you, grab it right back and put it to work.

Here’s one from Seth Godin for those of you who have raised a cigarette lighter at a concert in anticipation of an encore:

Nelson Hoyt reports:
16,000 fans attempting to coax Eric Clapton & Band back for an encore. In a darkened arena, perhaps 100 people holding lit cigarette lighters aloft. Several thousand holding backlit cell phones aloft!

Surely that scene brought a smile to the face of a legendary musician who’s probably seen it all when it comes to audience behavior at concerts.

Tom Peters talks about effort in this video:

Highlights:

If I ever finish a speech and I can still stand up, then it was a lousy speech.

If you don’t fall over [after your performance – whatever it is], then you weren’t going hard enough.

Kathy Sierra nails it:

In Zen Golf, PGA Tour instructor Dr. Joseph Parent writes about mastering golf’s mental game. The very first concept he addresses in the book is beginner’s mind:

Beginner’s mind is a mind that is open, eager to learn, an empty cup. If your mind is open, empty of preconceptions, it is always inquisitive, receptive to whatever arises, and ready to engage.

[N]o matter how good the instruction is, it is only as useful as the student’s interest and effort in learning.

Dr. Parent notes that Buddhist teachings offer an excellent analogy for the learning process:

Four types of cups symbolize four kinds of students. Instruction is symbolized by water being poured.
The first cup is upside down. This represents a student who is supposedly there to learn, but pays no attention. You may have experienced something similar while reading a book: Your eyes move across the words all the way down the page, but when you get to the bottom, you realize you were daydreaming and have no idea what you read. That’s what happens when a cup is turned upside down. No matter how much is poured, nothing gets in.
The second cup is right side up, but has a hole in the bottom. We hear what’s being taught, but we forget it all too soon. We don’t chew on it and digest it and take it to heart…This is the classic case of “in one ear and out the other.”
The third cup is right side up and doesn’t have a hole in it, but the inside is covered with dirt. When the clear water of instruction is poured in, the dirt makes it cloudy. This symbolizes the way we can distort what we hear, interpreting and editing it to fit into our preconceived ideas or opinions. Nothing new is actually learned. When we take a lesson, if the instruction matches how we already see things, it is taken as confirmation. Anything new that doesn’t match our opinion is resisted, ignored, or disregarded.
The fourth cup represents the ideal way to be a student. It is upright, receiving what is taught. It has no holes, retaining what is taught. It is clean, open to learning something new.

Steve Shu points to this article, which reports on a recent study titled “Academic Dishonesty in Graduate Business Programs: The Prevalence, Causes, and Proposed Actions”. The study found that 56% of graduate business students admitted to cheating in the last year.

David Maister saw the article while hearing a story about cheating in the professional services sector:

[T]he “20-something” daughter of some good friends was telling us about her new job as a personal assistant in the world of public relations. She pointed out, with great discomfort, that it was not unusual for her boss to say “I worked on the XYZ account for 4 hours but bill them for 20.” There’s even a word for this form of lying in PR firms, accounting firms, consulting firms and law firms: “value billing.”

This may be why I hold high respect for occupations which require part- or full-time performance on some kind of public stage. In professional golf, a foot wedge would never fly. A line forgotten by an actress in theater can produce awkward silence [unless she reverts to creative improvisation]. An executive’s speech delivered without passion fails to inspire the corporate troops.

Global business is a highly competitive game these days, so the pressure to perform at the individual level has increased. Most of us toil not on a public stage, but in relative isolation much of the time. Too many respond to the increasing pressure by cutting corners when the world isn’t watching.

Like Maister, I can’t say that I’ve never padded a handful of hours. Truth be told, most of us have one or two “young and stupid” moments in our past.

Here’s a recommendation for about half of today’s recently minted MBAs — and anyone else who wants to sleep better at night: In every situation, conduct yourself as if your five-year-old child were watching you.

In this modern age, most white collar workers rely heavily on their computer. News, email, spreadsheets — all emitted from a glowing LCD screen.

Christopher Kenton is no different. He claims here that he gets 95% of his information digitally. I can relate to that!

That’s why Kenton’s latest revelation, News at Life Speed, struck me. Just when I’m thinking that I should ditch the hard copy life and go 100% digital, he explains what happened after ordering real subscriptions of some of his favorite news publications (bold text is mine):

I [ordered] these publications with what suddenly feels like a nostalgic binge. It’ll be nice, I think, to sit on the porch swing with my coffee and read [the Wall Street Journal]. And that’s exactly what happened. I found myself kicking back at various times to relax and absorb the news and insight I’m so addicted to. And that eventually led to an unexpected, but not very surprising insight. I’m getting more value out of the print journals than I am online. Why? A simple side effect of psychology: it’s not only the data that matters, but the environment–the experience in which the data is collected.

When I gather information on my computer, I’m firmly rooted in the same environment and attitude I use for so many action-oriented tasks. I communicate through my computer. Think on my computer. Entertain myself on my computer. It’s all so…functional, and rigid. I sit up straight in my chair, staring at a single point in space, processing. When I read a magazine–just like when I read a book–I can kick my feet up, relax, and absorb. And I’m finding it makes a difference. I read deeper into the stories. I think about them more. I enjoy the experience more. But more importantly, I’m finding that I retain a lot more. It may sound a little strange, but I have the impression that I’m not emulating a computer with my brain–processing so many bits of data–but feeding my brain with ideas. It’s not a function of the information I’m gathering, but the environment I create to gather it. And what a subtle, but effective difference it seems to make.

Christopher’s insight was made in the context of news publications. I think it applies to nearly all text-based content, and I’m sure he would agree.

I’m not giving up television, the web or other digital sources of information. But Kenton is right. Sometimes we need to savor ink on paper.

“No man is a failure who is enjoying life.”
- William Feather

Most professional male golfers appear to consider a display of emotion on camera an embarrassment. A crack in the voice or a tear shed following a life-changing tournament victory seems taboo. The irony is that, while most of them manage to resist the temptation to weep, they also manage to lose control of their inner emotions during play in major championships.

Yesterday, Tiger Woods showed the golfing world the opposite.

Like so many major Sundays prior, he controlled his thoughts and emotions on the course while delivering a best-of-world performance. This time, he also showed millions of viewers that he’s not afraid to display raw emotion after the last putt fell, with the cameras still rolling.

When I ponder the whole thing — his skillful shotmaking under intense pressure, his between-shot demeanor, his rise to Chris DiMarco’s challenge, and his post-win reaction (captured in the video below) — only one word comes to my mind.

Beautiful.

I risk being teased by pals for using that word. I don’t care. I can’t think of a better way to describe it.

Welcome back, Tiger.