I love Seth Godin’s analogy about his dog, Woodie. When they first acquired the pooch, they installed one of those invisible fences to keep him from wandering away. Woodie probably got a shock once or twice from the collar when he attempted to leave the yard. The electronic barrier eventually broke, however, and Woodie was free to come and go as he pleased. And yet, he has never left the yard. The boundary is in Woodie’s head.

Can you relate? In our daily lives, we’re reminded of all the boundaries we dare not cross. “That is not the way we do it here,” we are told. “We tried that before and it didn’t work,” is the common refrain.

In his biography of Steve Jobs, author Walter Isaacson writes about how the inventor was famous for pushing his employees well beyond their boundaries. He was notorious for setting deadlines that were, by most accounts, unrealistic. And yet, Jobs had the ability to convince those employees they were capable of achieving and surpassing those goals.

What boundaries are in your head? And when was the last time you attempted to push beyond them? Achieve the unachievable? Reach beyond what you think is unattainable? How about now?

While walking this morning, listening to some of my favorite music on my iPod, I got to thinking about the impact Steve Jobs has had on my life. He changed the way I buy and enjoy music. He enhanced the way I communicate with others. And he made easier the manner in which I interact with my computer and other electronics. We are all aware of his many contributions to our culture. Just consider the praises that have been streaming since his death yesterday.

One of my favorite stories about Steve was how, when his fledging company was building the McIntosh, he flew the Jolly Roger from the flagpole atop their office building. His purpose in displaying the skull and crossbones was to remind employees when they arrived for work each morning that Apple’s intent was not just to create a marketable product, but to sink the competition and transform our culture through disruptive technology.

Yes, he had a flair for technology, although he hired others to implement his ideas. To me, Steve’s true genius was in his ability to envision a better world that we could not grasp. He was able to look at things around us, things that we all took for granted every day, and ask “what if …?”

When Bill Gates was shown an iPod for the first time, his response reportedly was: “So what’s the big deal? It’s just a mini hard drive.” True. But what Bill failed to see in that mini hard drive was a device that would revolutionize the music industry and put record stores out of business.

So thank you, Steve. For the iPod, iPad, iPhone, for Pixar, and for all of your many other inventions. But thank you also for reminding us to constantly look at our world and ask: “What if?”

I accompanied my daughter recently on her quest to purchase a replacement car. She and her mother had visited a Chrysler dealership the day before and had picked out a 2010 Jeep Compass as a possible contender. Upon our return, and after several hours of discussion and haggling, the dealership offered her the car at a competitive price, and she accepted. That should have been the happy ending to the story, but unfortunately, it was not.

After all the paperwork had been signed, the salesman handed her just one ignition key to the car. When I asked about a second key, his response was: “We were only given one key to the car, so we only have one to give you.” He added that she could purchase a second key for $200.

When she proceeded to leave the lot, she discovered there was barely enough gas in the tank to make it home. The car lacked floor mats, even the paper kind they give you at the auto repair shop. And she soon discovered that the car’s oil needed to be replaced as well as the air filter and cabin air filter. So much for the “meticulous inspection” the car was supposedly given before it was ever placed on the lot.

Instead of leaving the dealership feeling she had been given a fair deal, which she had, our daughter instead left feeling she had been taken for a ride, and not in a good way. What turned out to be a negative experience could have been avoided for just a little money and much more of a focus on customer service. Seeing the whole buying experience through the eyes of the customer would have provided an entirely different outcome.

Years ago, when I worked at the University of Florida, I asked the director of facilities how they determined where to place sidewalks. Quite simple, he responded. They just waited until students wore a path and then they covered it with concrete.

Your institution may be doing all the right things to help your students succeed. But are you evaluating the quality of those services through their eyes? And how do they perceive the experience?