Practicing The Mentality Of “The Best”

What’s the best coffee you can sip in the morning—something that turns your bleary eyes into stargazing telescopes?

What’s the best car to drive when you’re dropping your daughters off at daycare—fast enough to feel alive, safe enough to feel proud, reliable enough to not make you late?

What’s the best report you can share with your manager—one that isn’t just numbers on a slide, but insight that makes their eyebrows rise like a stock price in a bull market?

What’s the best prompt you can give an AI—sharp enough to cut fluff, open enough to invite brilliance?

What’s the best dinner you can put on the table tonight? The best joke to land in a tense meeting? The best story to tell your kids at bedtime? The best text you can send to a friend who’s hurting? The best way to end a Friday? The best song to soundtrack a long drive? The best question to ask yourself when you’re stuck?

The list is endless because “best” is a moving target. It’s shaped by context, circumstance, the humans in the room, and the moment you’re in.

The magic comes when you practice asking “what’s the best here?” Because you start to notice how different groups evaluate “best” differently:

To your toddler, the best dinner might just be dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets.
To your partner, the best might be the meal you didn’t burn because you were scrolling your phone.
To your boss, the best report is one that solves a problem before they even name it.
To you, the best workout is the one you actually did, not the perfect plan you never started.

By asking the question repeatedly, you become fluent in multiple definitions of excellence. You see that “best” isn’t a monolith; it’s a kaleidoscope.

And here’s the twist: the trouble with quality in this world isn’t that we don’t have people thinking about “what’s the best.” It’s that too many people are waiting for someone else to define it for them.

Your power comes from exercising the muscle of best-seeking, over and over, in every small and ordinary moment—until the extraordinary doesn’t feel so far away.

Stay Positive & This Is Probably My Best Blog Post, Huh?